Rogueofstorms AU

[moonshadows]

 

Carefully, I charge one hand as I venture into the cowboy's room. The bathroom door is wide open, and my feet make no noise as I slip in and discharge the energy, making his hair stand up. It's not really long enough to pull back easily, and he probably doesn't have any clips, but this way I can get it out of danger. He doesn't seem to notice, but then again he's also busy. I perch on the sink and wait for a quiet moment.

"We weren't talking about you," I say when he stops to catch his breath. "I was playing a computer game with Papi."

"That's...not as much of a relief as it could be," he says shortly.

What’s that supposed to mean? "Jesse...you don't have to worry about me taking advantage of your drunk ass." Mainly because I can’t, but I’m not saying that.

He gives me as incredulous a look as he can manage without turning his head too far.

I sigh. "Okay, listen. Any teasing I do, any shit I give you, I promise I will never do anything more than look. Without your permission." Because hey, I don’t want to lock any doors before they even open.

He seems to be finished. I fill the cup his toothbrush was in and hand it to him so he can rinse and spit.

"You promise," he says bitterly. "Well, that's all well 'n good, you won't try nothin' with me. But what if I try somethin' with you?" A glance at me, then he stares into the cup before taking a second mouthful of water and swishing it around. "Against your will," he clarifies quietly after he's spit and flushed.

Well, then he’d be disappointed, and he wouldn’t be the only one. "Would you?" I ask. "I didn't think you wanted to go there, and not just because of Papi."

"I don't. Especially after hearing you don't want to, either. But get a feller liquored up, and his brain ain't the only part of his body he starts listening to."

Damn. ...oh. Oh. "Jesse McCree, are you getting shit-faced because you can't get laid?"

He glowers at me. "That ain't the only reason, and I'll thank you to not ask any more questions like that. Now, I'm gonna take a shower, so...d'you mind?"

He's going to take his clothes off. Free show! "Not at all! Go right ahead."

Jesse stands up, smooths his hair down, and gives me a hard stare. "I meant, d'you mind not looking."

"I'd rather look, actually."

My implied appreciation for his unclothed body seems to make him uncomfortable. After a moment, he steps into the shower fully-clothed and closes the door. Now protected by frosted glass, he shucks off his clothes before tossing them over the shower door and onto the floor of the bathroom. I wait until the water's going before I gather them up and go into his room. It only takes a minute to dump the dirty clothes in the laundry assemble a set of fresh ones. I leave them, neatly folded, on the edge of the sink and close the door behind me.

===
~Timeskip~
===

A few days later, as we're clearing the table, Jesse again says, "Hey, shadow-sis..."

"Nope. You want help firing your Colt, you ask Papi."

"It's not that," he says quickly. "I just...I wanna thank you fer puttin' up with me all this time. I wanna make it up to you." He sees my uncertain expression and gives me a puppy-eye look. "Please?"

I sigh. "Okay."

He hugs me, and we finish cleaning up. The night is clear and cold, and the bar is warm and inviting. Jesse points me to a corner table and goes to the bar while I sit down. When he comes back, it's with a bottle of bourbon that the bar had to have ordered specifically for him, a pair of shot glasses, and a glass of water for himself.

"Never thought I'd be the one drinkin' responsibly," he jokes as he pours the first shots and hands one to me. "To my lovely sister, who has sacrificed so much for this family without even bein' able to get drunk."

"I'll drink to that," I say dryly.

We touch the shot glasses together and sip appreciatively.

"So..." Jesse plays with his glass, not looking at me. "I was thinkin'...now that you're equipped, as it were...I can finally repay the favors you've given me and help you find a nice stallion to ride."

I am not drunk enough for this conversation. I pour myself another shot, toss it back, and pour a third.

“Alé?”

“D’you remember your first?” I ask, not looking up.

He pours himself another shot. “Yeah.”

Sounds like it was as good as mine. “D’you remember who you wished your first would be?”

“Yeah,” he says again, softly.

“Me, too. And I can’t help thinking about that, since I’ve kind of got a chance to do it all over again.”

I drink my shot; Jesse pours me another one. “He still around, then? Sorry,” he says as I look up, and he looks away, flushing. “Shouldn’t have assumed it was a he.”

“It’s a he,” I reassure him. God, this is even more awkward than I thought it would be. “I’m even in touch with him.”

Jesse toasts me; we drink our shots. “Hey, if you’re in touch with him, I think you should see if you’ve got a shot.”

I grimace. “Thing is…I’m pretty sure he’s not interested.”

“Then he’s a fool,” the cowboy says darkly. “I thought you were gorgeous the minute I first saw you, even it was a lie, but it’s the flesh-and-blood truth now and you’re still gorgeous so if he don’t want a piece of you, even if it don’t mean nothin’ but fulfilling a dumb-ass teenage hormonal wish, then he better not dare call himself straight or I’ll kick his motherfucking ass.”

That makes me go from gaping to laughing, imagining him trying to kick his own ass.

Jesse grins. “There, that’s better. You’re Gabe’s kid, Alé. He don’t give up even when he probably should, and neither do you. If you’re in touch with him, and you want him, you should go for it.”

I toy with my shot glass, and he pours for me. I toss it back before teasing, “So, assuming he’s straight, any man should want a piece of me, hmm? Does that include you?”

He flushes an impressive red. “Yer my sister, Alé.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t want me anyway, Jesse.”

“No, but it means Gabe’ll kick my ass into next week and be there to kick me back into this week. And that’s after you got done kicking my ass.”

Great, now I’m blushing. “Who says I’d kick your ass?”

“You said…” he shakes his head. “You said you’d never…”

“Never without your permission.”

He stares at me, fighting the bourbon to make my words make sense. “Wait…so does that mean…I mean, I know you like lookin’ at me…” He shakes his head again. “Don’t matter. This ain’t about me, it’s about getting you hooked up with your crush.”

Yeah. This is way more awkward than I thought it would be. “You don’t even know who my crush is! Was.”

That gets me a teasing smile. “Oh-ho, you still carrying a torch, Alé?”

“Maybe,” I say, but I’m blushing even harder.

“No, you are, you totally are! Don’t worry, I think that’s cute. I’m also a little drunk.”

“Yes, you are. So, you really think I should try to hook up with my crush?”

“Absolutely,” he says firmly.

“No matter who he is?”

“You’re the daughter of Gabriel Reyes. You can’t spell Reyes without yes.”

“Even if it might make things weird?”

“How many questions I gotta say yes to, Alé? Yes.”

“So do I have your permission?”

“Yes, Alé, just – wait, what?”

“You were my crush, Jesse,” I say quietly, my eyes dropping to the table.

Slowly, he reaches out and screws the cap back onto the bottle. “Say that again.”

“You were my crush. I’ve had sex with too many strangers to want to do that again, but you’re not a stranger and after all this time…you’re still hot.”

There’s a pause before he says, “Alright, we’re goin’ home now, and I won’t hear another word about this tonight..”

Shit. I fucked up and ruined everything.

As I stand and start walking to the door, he catches my wrist. “Listen to me, Alé. I’m drunk enough to make things questionable. I want to talk about this when I’m one hundred percent sober. Okay?”

This is what hope feels like. “Okay.”

===

Jesse wakes up to a note on his bathroom mirror that says, “Meet me in west wing 3^rd floor kitchen. –S”

I’m waiting with coffee when he gets there, and he takes it with a nod of thanks before sitting down.

“How’re you feeling, cowboy?”

He grimaces. “Sober. You?”

“Terrified.”

That makes him look up in alarm. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to fuck everything up. I’d rather have you as a brother than not have you at all.”

“Does Gabe know?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. He owes me for shit from when he was a dog, he’ll let it slide if I call that in.”

“So you still…”

“Want to ride your horse? Yeah.”

“And afterwards?”

Great, I’m blushing again. “Until I learned who Reaper was, I figured the only way I’d ever get Gabriel Reyes as a father was if I married you. I invested a lot of time and energy into that fantasy.”

“Is that what you want now? To legally shackle yourself to a scruffy trash cowboy? Because I gotta warn you, I ain’t real good with that house-picket-fence-two-kids-and-a-dog shtick.”

“Good thing I got the house, the fence is high-tech, we had the dog, and we’d have to adopt.”

He flushes and mutters, “Well, when y’put it like that…”

“Jesse…what do you want?”

He looks up, colors more, and looks away. “I…may have entertained a few fantasies about settlin’ down with you and emphasized the sister thing to remind myself that they weren’t gonna happen.”

“So…do we need to figure out all the details now, or can we go mess up a bed and sort the rest out later?”

Jesse smiles slowly, wickedly, and I find myself returning the expression. “Yeehaw, missy.”

===

“And just where,” Papi demands jokingly as we walk into the kitchen, “have you two been?”

“We just ducked out for a bit,” I tell him loftily.

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “Alé, you’re not serious.”

I smirk at him. “Actually, I think we are pretty serious.”

Jesse takes Papi’s hand in both of his. “Sir, I know it’s a bit sudden, but might I have the hand of your daughter Alessandra in marriage? Or at least your blessing to marry her?”

“You say this like I have any say in the matter,” Papi answers dryly.

“Well, I would like to be able to sleep at night, knowin’ my father-in-law isn’t waiting for me with a shotgun or two.”

“I do have shotguns.”

“Papi!”

He laughs. “Relax, mijo. If you’re crazy enough to marry into this family, then you’re crazy enough to be in this family. Besides, if you fuck up, it’s not me you’ll have to worry about.”

Jesse looks at me and smiles. “I’ll take that risk.”

===

"Got a question for you, Alé," Jesse says lazily, one metal finger trailing down my side as we lie half-tangled in his bed.

"I'd say 'shoot' but we just did," I tease. "What's on your mind?"

"D'you want to get hitched? I mean, I know you can just..." He wiggles his mechanical fingers. "And change records, and if that's all you want I'm fine with it. If you even want that much at all."

I lift my head off his shoulder enough to kiss him lightly. "What do you want?"

He hugs me gently to his chest. "I was just thinkin'...I mean, I never thought about it before now, but I kinda like the idea of standing in front of a Justice of the Peace and sayin' 'I do' with you."

"In an actual suit?" I tease.

"Aw, hell naw! ...unless you want me to," he amends with a brief kiss.

I roll us over so that he's on his back and I'm straddling him, my hands on his chest. "Jesse McCree, are you pussywhipped already?"

"No, ma'am. Just not dumb enough t' get on your bad side," he teases, sliding his hands up my sides. "Especially when you're sittin' so near the goods."

"Good answer, cowboy," I tease back. He urges me down to sprawl on his chest again, and I don't resist. "I never thought about the details either," I admit with my head tucked up under his chin. "I suppose I want to keep it private, just Papi and 'Rienne for now, and maybe Uncle Jack and Tia Ana. Let everyone else find out later. Little family party in the backyard. Tamales, cake, tequila."

"Gonna be too cold for that," he says, his voice resonating through his chest. "Unless you want to wait for spring."

"I'll be a ghost until Easter anyway."

"Good point." He thinks about that for a minute, hands roaming over my back. "Does that mean I get to propose to you at the Easter Gala? Let everyone know you're off the market before anyone gets any bright ideas?"

"I have a better idea."

"I'm all ears."

"I put my record back a few days before Easter. We get hitched, have a little party, and you get to spend all evening at the Gala disappointing the ladies because you're a married man."

"Ooh, I like that idea. Sorry, gents, this fine fiery flower is already spoken for and y'all never had a chance. Yeah, let's go with that."

"We should tell Papi," I say drowsily. "Let him make our wedding outfits."

"That'll work," Jesse says, kissing the top of my head. "G'night, Alé."

=

Papi hands us mugs of coffee when we wander into the kitchen.

"Good morning," he says dryly. "This going to be a regular thing with you two?"

Jesse grimaces as he sinks down into a chair. "Would you rather I be picking up random women in a bar?"

"If it means you won't be fucking my daughter?" he counters. "Jury's out."

"Papi!"

"I'm allowed to give your boyfriend shit," he protests. "I'm your father, and he's a damned ingrate. I'm making pancakes, you want cinnamon in yours, hija?"

"Si, Papi," I say, smiling at him.

"How 'bout you, chulo?"

Jesse colors slightly. "Uh...sure. Thanks, Dad." He smiles as I scoot my chair closer to him, and leans over to kiss me. "Besides, she initiated. It's all her fault."

Papi stares at nothing for a good long minute before shaking his head. "I did not need to know that." He mock-scowls, then gives us a shit-eating grin. "Is that why I didn't hear your battle cry?"

"You mean yee-haw?" Jesse asks while I groan. "C'mon, that was just playing the part for the tourists. I'm not even the one on top."

I smack his arm. "Jesse!"

He laughs and kisses me. Unrepentant bastard. I'm actually blushing. Papi's grinning at me, too.

"Own it, Alé," he encourages me. "No shame in this family. If you're the one that wears the spurs, be proud of that."

"I'm not used to this, okay?" I cross my arms sulkily. "All my experience has been fleecing marks. I've never actually...cared...before."

Jesse leans over to hug me, nuzzling my hair until he can get it out of the way enough to lay a kiss on my jaw. "And that's why we don't do anything unless she wants to," he tells Papi, who gives him a look of approval. "So...we were thinking maybe we'd get hitched a day or two before the big reveal. Nothin' big. You, 'Rienne, a Justice of the Peace, and a little party after with Ana and Jack."

Papi lays two plates of pancakes on the table in front of us. "Alé?" he asks gently.

"I'm putting myself back in the system a few days ahead of Easter. If we do it this way, I'll emerge out of nowhere as your daughter and Jesse's wife and we'll head off the inevitable fight over who gets to kick the ass of anyone who tries to hit on me."

"You will," Papi and Jesse say in unison.

"Unless you say differently," Jesse adds.

"So...will you make us something to wear?" I ask.

Papi lays a kiss on the top of my head. "Please, hija, like I'd let you wear anything else? You just let me know what you want for your dress, and what kind of monkey suit you want this trained monkey in," he says with a smirk at his trash cowboy son.

I stand and hug him. "Thank you, Papi."

===

"Everyone ready?" Papi asks as the limo pulls up and takes its place in line.

Jack straightens his collar and nods. I check my hair and nod. Jesse reaches into his formal black cowboy hat and clears his throat.

"So I was thinkin'," he says with a hint of nervousness.

I know something's up when Papi doesn't make a crack about Jesse and thinking.

"It's traditional to prove you're married by wearin' a ring. Now, I know there's nothing traditional about us, but I don't want t' have to get physical with anyone tonight, so I thought..." He fiddles with something.

Jack's grinning. He and Papi were both in on this. I don't know whether to be indignant or flattered.

Jesse pulls his mechanical hand out of the hat and holds it out for inspection. "Had t' get it specially fitted, of course, but how's it look?"

There's a wedding band on his ring finger, black edged in yellow gold, fitted to the rectangular shape of his artificial fingers.

"Looks better than you do," I tease.

He tries to look affronted, but he's grinning. "Now, you keep talkin' like that, maybe I won't show you what else I picked up."

I lean over and give him a quick kiss. "Not my fault I'm the pretty one."

"I can't argue with that," he sighs. "Alright, give me your hand and close your eyes."

A little apprehensive, I close my eyes and offer him my left hand. Cool metal slides over my ring finger, followed by familiar lips on the knuckles.

"Okay," he says softly, "You can open them."

The wedding band is the inverse of his, black gold with a thin ribbon of brilliant yellow gold in the middle. The engagement ring is wider, solid black gold with inset rectangles of something vividly blue and opalescent marching up the sides of the band to a huge purple diamond flanked on each side by four tiny white ones. It's gorgeous, and all I can do is stare in awe at this amazing piece of jewelry that I would covet so hard if it weren't already on my finger.

"D'you like it?" Jesse asks quietly, nervously.

"I love it." My voice is barely louder than a breath.

He smiles in relief. "Good. It's our turn."

Sure enough, a uniformed servant is opening the limo door. Jack steps out first, as agreed, and there's an ocean of camera flashes and voices calling his name. When he's halfway to the door, Papi steps out and the crowd of reporters falls utterly silent before roaring his name and clamoring for his attention. He ignores them all and turns to offer me his hand, helping me out of the limo. The reporters falter, unsure of who I am. When Jesse climbs out and puts his hat on, Papi transfers my hand to his metal one, and he raises it to his lips. The crowd buzzes with curiosity. Like royalty, we make our way up the red carpet and ignore the questions and flashes.

Once we reach the door, however, we stop and turn back to face them. Flanked by Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, I smirk at the reporters. Then I take Jesse's face between my hands and pull him down for a fierce, possessive kiss that goes on for far longer than anyone was expecting, I'm sure. He groans a little when I finally release him.

"God, you're a wicked woman," he breathes. Then he straightens and faces the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press," he announces, holding my left hand out to display the rings. "My wife: Alessandra Reyes!"