Last Updated: 4/28/99

Charlie stood up from the bale of hay that had been doubling as her seat. Josiah nodded to her a little and walked reluctantly toward thelivery door. After she had cried for about half an hour he had told her that he needed to check on someone. Jenn, or Jenna, or something like that. She couldn't really hear him he was talking so quietly. She had wiped off her face and calmed down enough to at least make it back to her boarding room. She walked toward the livery door and stood outside a minute. Shoving her hands into her pockets she just leaned against the outside wall, and looked around. The air was heavy, the skies were dark, the town was quiet, and it wasn't even night yet.

Charlie didn't know why, but she didn't feel much better. Even Josiah hadn't calmed her fear of what would happen to Buck. He didn't know that much about Buck's injuries, he'd said. Then he'd told her that what had happened wasn't her fault, yet deep down she felt it was. She wished she could change the events of earlier that would lead to the destruction of later. Yeah...she'd just have to spit in one hand and wish in the other. Maybe a miracle would happen. She shook her head. Maybe a drink would calm her down a bit. She knew Buck hated when she drank, but she also knew Buck wasn't there to see her do it. She pulled her hands out of her pockets and slowly headed off toward the saloon.

Lena sat alone at the corner table. She sipped her drink slowly and watched the evenings crowd begin to gather. She forced down the remnents of the terror she had felt earlier. Once she reached beyond the fear, she could feel a wall of sorts. And beyond the wall...

Tenitively she grasped a bit of the energy that lay just within her reach. It came to her eagerly, flooding forward and ready to please. She was suddenly keenly aware of the people around her. The miner at the end of the bar was frustrated... and in love. The ranch hand next to him was certain he'd been under paid and was drinking up the courage to demand his full wages. The person just entering was distraught. Guilt, fear, anger, it was all there.

Suprised at the level of emotion, Lena's natural defenses and a lifetime of Mama Anna's training snapped into place. The bond severed, Lena sat stunned for a second, before turning toward the source of the crisis point.

Jack turned as sharply on his heels as he could in his current state and walked down the street. "Stupid girl..." he grumbled to himself. The phrase didn't go unnoticed by Kit but she managed not to laugh. Whatever his story was, she could wait to hear it.

She continued following him and he bit back his urge to run away from her, as though he really could. His attention was drawn by music pouring out onto the street from one of the buildings. Getting closer he realized it was a saloon. *Cool!*

Stepping up onto the boardwalk he started for the door as a big, burly man rushed out, knocking him into a boardwalk support post.

"Hey!" he gasped at the man. "Watch where you're going."

The man turned and sneered at him. The alcohol was evident on his breath as he leaned closer to Jack. "You got a problem, kid?"

"Yeah I do," Jack said stepping up to the challenge. *What kind of people do they hire at this place? Tsk, drunk on the job.* Before Jack had a chance to think anymore about the hiring policies of this tourist trap, the man took a swing at his head. The broad fist slammed into his nose, making it bleed.

"What the--?!" he exclaimed bringing a hand up to feel his nose. *Still intact.*

Kit jumped up on the boardwalk, not exactly sure how she should stop the fight before it went any further.

"Still got a problem boy?" the man asked smiling smugly at his nearby companions.

"Oh yeah, and I'll be discussing it with the manager right after I kick your butt." Without further ado he tore into the man, momentarily forgetting his injuries. The moment was short-lived as it became apparent that the pain he was getting from each punch outweighed the pain he was inflicting on the drunk. The man, who was a little taller and twice as wide as Jack, grunted and wheezed a few times, then started fighting back, much to the excitement of his friends.

Jack did his best to fend off the blows and return them but one got past his defenses and slammed into his already injured ribs. He flew back through the batwing doors into the saloon, hitting a man carrying a bottle of whiskey. The whiskey slipped from his hands spilling on another man. The saloon was soon in an uproar with chairs and people flying, not that Jack was concerned about that. He was too busy trying to remember how to breathe so he could grind that man's face into the floor. The man had a different plan as he kicked Jack hard in the side.

Jack let out a yelp of pain and curled up to protect his stomach from further assault. *I think that ruptured my spleen,* he moaned to himself as his eyes watered.

*I can't believe you're being beaten by a drunk,* a voice that sounded surprisingly like his first drill sargent complained.

*He's twice his size,* another part of his brain countered.

*He's taken down bigger opponents without ever getting hit.*

*He wasn't already injured then.*

Jack shook his head. It wasn't the first time he'd had an argument with himself but now wasn't the best time for it to continue.

Chris and Chandrika were walking toward the church when he noticed the commotion coming from the saloon.

"Can't they last a day without a brawl?" he asked the air as he grabbed Chandrika's arm and pulled her with him toward the saloon. The middle of a fight wasn't a good place to take a lady, but he didn't want her to run off while he was dealing with the latest trouble in town.

Chandrika glared at the blonde gunslinger as he gripped her arm hard as they ran toward the saloon. There wasn't any reason that he had to drag her with. Wasn't like she was leaving town soon. She yelped in surprise as she and Chris ended up on the floor, he on top of her as they ducked a flying chair.

"Stay here," he ground out before getting up and practically diving into the fight to break it up. Chandrika glanced up and looked around.

"Like hell I will," she mumbled getting up. She tucked her knapsack under a table where no one would notice and joined in the fight. One man not noticing she was a woman took a swing at her and with a swift turn, she delivered a high kick to his head, knocking him down. Many of the men near Chris and Jack stopped and glanced at her, as did Chris and Jack, though she noticed the man looked at her through a daze of pain. Chris opened his mouth to say something to her.

"Oh shut up," she said then delivered a blow to a nearby man who held Chris' arm. Chris stepped back surprised and watched Chandrika dispatch the man on top of Jack with ease. Chandrika could feel with her mind that Jack was hurting and she knew this man was part of it. She slammed his face into a nearby table and with a grnut he fell to the floor. As she leaned down to help Jack up, Chris came over, dispatching the rest of the group, which wasn't too hard once she saw Ezra come in as well, his guns out, and since none of the regulars would mess with any of the men, they quickly dispersed. Chris stood behind Chandrika glaring at her.

"Woman, you don't listen very well. And you are stubborn as hell," he growled. Chandrika threw a beautiful smile at him over her shoulder helping Jack.

"Glad you noticed, maybe now you won't be so quick to deliver orders to me. I won't listen," she said. Chris scowled and shook his head as he leaned down to help her.

"Mr. Larabee? Is everything all right now?" Ezra asked. Chris nodded.

"Stay here though and make sure nothing happens again," he said helping Jack to his feet, surprisingly with Chandrika's help. She made no move to go with them.

"Ms. Ryley if you don't mind coming with?" Chris asked gazing at her. She shook her head.

"I can stay here," she said. Chris scowled.

"This is no place for a lady," he said. Chandrika scowled back at him.

"Maybe not but I'm staying, and you know I'm stubborn," she said cocking her hip, smiling. Chris felt his teeth grinding. He said nothing, he merely turned supporting Jack. He walked past Kit as they exited. She looked at him startled as he mumbled past her.

"Damn fool stubborn woman," he mumbled.

Lena watched in amusement as the brawlers scattered. The drunk cowboy had gotten together enough of his courage to loudly proclaim himself cheated out of honest wages. The whole thing might have ended there, except the rancher in question and his foreman had chosen the momentary silence after their public denoucement to enter. Caught between his job and his ego; the cowboy started swinging.

Lena wondered about the surge of emotions that she had felt, just as the fight had broken out. She'd missed seeing who had come through the door, and didn't think it would be wise to try to 'feel' for them again.

She half-heartedly considered going over and speaking with Larabee. He was, after all, the reason she had come into the saloon in the first place. But now that he was here, she found herself coming up with reasons not to approach him. The more convienent, she chided, the better. Besides, he was busy with two people in, well rather unusual garb.

Charlie watched the fight that had broken out a few minutes after her arrival. The new guy, Jack, had shown up and started the whole thing. She'd seen him out on the porch. All she could do was hope that he didn't get himself killed by those large idiots that frequented this place.

She had pretty much ignored the whole fight, except when it came time to stand up or move quickly due to flying debris or people. Now she found herself in the back of the saloon, in the darkest corner she could find, gulping a beer. She watched as the large room cleared of most of its patrons, watched Chris leave with Ezra and Jack, watched the woman in the strange clothes take a seat across the room, and watched everyone else go back to whatever it was they had been doing.

This had to be the longest, strangest, hardest, and most awful day of her life. Yet it still was not through. These people had only made it worse by adding a headache.

She leaned back in the chair and finished off the beer. Then, without even thinking, she stood up and went back to the bar.

"Two more, Inez." She said, running her hand over her collar bone, a pained expression appeared on her face then disappeared. Inez gave her a sympathetic look and handed her the two beers. Charlie took them and went back to her table in the corner. When she was seated she reached up and touched her collar bone again. She knew she'd been feeling pain there. It was extremely tender. She didn't even been realize she'd been hurt out at the farm house. She rubbed her hand across it for a minute and concluded it had to have been a hard hit. The pain was too much to have been sustained by falling or something. But she didn't remember being hit. She remembered when the lightening struck, and she had hit the ground, but that wasn't how it happened. She remembered Buck's pushing her out of the way, that hadn't been it either. She remembered the little scene outside the livery when she'd passed out. That wasn't even it. She decided to forget about it. What was done was done. She picked up one of the beers and went to work on finishing it quickly.

Chris and Ezra helped Jack out of the saloon and turned toward the church. Jack appriciated the help from the two people for all of a minute.

"I'm okay," he said trying to pull away from them. *Except that annoying headache is back and I can't get half a breath in and my nose is bleeding all over the place still.* Kit snorted and he shot her a dirty look. "I can walk myself." He wasn't exactly sure that was true but he didn't want anyone dragging him through town. Neither of his helpers relented.

"We'll get Nathan to look at you, then you've got a lot of explaining to do," Chris said through gritting teeth. Everyone was being stubborn today.

Jack's face hardened. "I don't have to explain anything to anyone." Chris paused and, to anyone that knew him, had a very dangerous look on his face.

"We're he law in this town," he began.

*Aw, crud. Just my luck to run into the police. The last thing I need is to get booked.*

"And you do have to explain exactly what you're doing and where you came from."

Jack pressed his lips tightly together. He knew his day had just gotten a lot longer.

After Jon left Jen decided to sneak out the back to go to the saloon. When she entered the saloon, it was filled which she really didn't care. She went to the counter and ordered a beer, her headache was still there but she needed a drink not tea or anything else.

'Dangit. Oh, he's going to be coming back after me again!' Jen thought, the man that kidnapped her didn't care about the town or it's people. He wanted her and he wanted his revenge. She took a sip of her beer and sat down at a table, her head spinning.

Clair looked to the churches double doors as Mary Travis entered. She watched as Mary took in the scene before her. The smile Mary had directed towards her faded as the other woman noticed the baby she held in her arms. Mary quickly moved across the room the where Nathan and Vin stood in quite conversation. Clair noticed Mary turned her back to her as she spoke to both men. Anger boiled in Clair, as Vin stared pointedly over Mary`s shoulder at her and nodded his head at what was being said. Clair knew what was to come and she refused to let it happen.

Kit watched the personalities conflicting in front of the saloon with a half-smile. Chris Larabee wasn't one to be brushed aside, and Jack Malone wasn't the type to be pushed around. It made for an interesting encounter. Chris looked like he was about ready to knock Jack to the ground and drag him over to Nathan's if necessary, and Kit could tell Jack was wondering if he'd be better off running. Not that he'd get far, even if he wasn't already beat to hell. Ezra was right there on the boardwalk, and Kit knew Jack wouldn't stand a chance against both he and Chris combined.

She considered staying out of it - 'stupid girl' indeed! But considering the blows Jack had already taken, she figured a little bit of intervention might go a long way.

"Mister Larabee," she offered, breaking the staring match between Jack and Chris as the latter turned to look at her. "Meet Jack Malone." Chris' icy eyes flicked back at Jack before returning to Kit. "He's not from around here," she continued with a smirk and a sidelong glance at the visitor. It didn't go unnoticed, and Jack scowled.

"I'd figured that much," Chris clipped. "Otherwise he'd've known better than to start a barfight."

"Oh, but he didn't start it," Kit corrected. "Ames did. He came barrelling out of the saloon, drunker'n a skunk, and ran right into Jack here, who was just minding his own business." She shook her head remorsefully. "You'd think a big guy like Ames could hold his liquor better. And before Jack here could say three words, Ames was swinging at him like he was trying to take Jack's head off." Kit indicated Jack's bloodied nose. "So Jack tried to defend himself. What else was he supposed to do, I ask you?" She tried an innocent smile at the two protectors, and was pleased to see the ice in Chris' eyes melt slightly. "And when Ames knocked him clear back into the saloon, well... you can imagine what happened then."

Chris grimaced, remembering. "I don't have to imagine." He exchanged a look with Ezra, then turned his attention back to Jack. "Is that what happened?"

Jack knew a golden opportunity when he saw it. "Yessir," he replied. Chris regarded him for a moment longer, knowing there was more to the story but unable to do anything about it at the moment. Jack knew from the stare that there'd be a reckoning with Chris soon, however it didn't look like it was going to be right at that moment. Considering the state of his ribs, it was a blessing.

"All right," Chris said at length. But it wasn't, and all four of them knew it. He started to pull Jack down the boardwalk towards the church. "Let's get you over to Nathan and..."

Kit could see Jack's muscles tense and could practically feel his belligerence rising up again. *Oh no, you're not going to undo all that work!* she thought in annoyance, and moved in front of Chris. "Um, I think Nathan's got his hands full with Buck right now," she reminded him. "Do we really want to interrupt him with a bunch of bumps and bruises?" She looked from Chris to Ezra and back, as if considering. "I don't know, do you think he needs much more than a good wash and a long rest? We could put him up over at the hotel or boarding house, and then Nathan could come by when he has the chance."

Chris weighed the options in his head, unhappy with the idea but recognizing it might be best for all involved, particularly Nathan and Buck. He looked Jack over, realizing that while he was pretty beat up, he wasn't going to keel over and die right away. "There's a room over at Miss Maggie's," he relented, and turned to cross the street with Jack.

"Mister Larabee?" Kit ventured once more. Chris stopped again and glared at her. Kit decided to tread lightly. "I could escort Mr. Malone to the boarding house, if you had other business to attend to," she said with a nod at the saloon behind them. Chris' eyes narrowed, realizing that Kit had seen him enter the saloon with Chandrika. He looked over his shoulder at the saloon's batwing doors, considering, then looked at Ezra.

"And if you have difficulty with our guest, here?" Ezra asked in his smooth drawl.

Kit grinned. "I know just where to hit him." The remark earned her a black look from Jack, but Ezra's mouth quirked into a slight smile as he nodded.

"Very well," he said. Jack frowned at the fancy-dressed man's laugh at his expense. Then Chris was half a foot away from him, staring him in the eye with a cold expression.

"You stay out of trouble," Chris warned. "And you stay where I can find you."

"Yessir," Jack bit out. It rankled, but Jack was no idiot. *It'll give me time to heal, and then we'll see who gives the orders, cowboy.*

Chris gave a curt nod before wheeling on his heel and striding for the saloon, spurs jingling. Ezra appraised Jack again with a sharp eye, then offered a courteous tip of the hat to Kit and followed the gunslinger.

When they were out of sight, Kit took Jack's elbow. "Come on, let's go," she said, turning for the boarding house. She wasn't surprised when Jack balked, shaking off her hand.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," he said. Kit grinned wolfishly and walked up to him, closing the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. Her eyes sparked brightly as she stared up at him, and Jack took a step backwards in spite of himself.

"Listen," Kit growled, still smiling. "You owe me one. I just saved your bacon, whether you know it or not. Now you can go storming off on me like you did before, but I will guarantee you that you'll be back in trouble with Mister Larabee and the others inside half an hour. And you can bet that I won't bother to help you out next time." She paused to let that sink in before continuing. "Now you can either come with me over to the boarding house and get cleaned up, or you can go barrelling off into town without me and end up in even more trouble. Which is it going to be?"

While Jack didn't want to go anywhere with Kit, she had a good point about helping him out (not that he'd done anything wrong or needed her help) and his tendency to get into trouble. And all he'd really wanted to do all day was get cleaned up and get some sleep. With a sigh he broke her stare and shrugged.

"Fine, let's go."

Kit's smile grew and Jack felt distinctly uncomfortable though he had no idea why. She grabbed his arm again and started walking across the street to Miss Maggie's. Miss Maggie was at the front door and gave a disapproving look to the pair at they approached.

"We're here for a room," Kit said personably.

"I've got one," Miss Maggie said with a heavy accent. "But I'll have no trouble here."

"I'll be no trouble at all," Jack replied with a smile that seemed to say the opposite. The owner tsked but pointed the way to the room.

Once they arrived Jack looked in at it without entering. It was a small room with a simple bed and dresser. It didn't smell bad but it didn't smell good either. At last he stepped in and took off his coat, dropped it on the bed, then plopped down on the bed himself. There wasn't much else to do there and he stared at Kit who stood in the doorway. The stare continued as neither had anything in particular to say. Kit finally broke the silence.

"I'll see if I can find you some clean clothes," she said starting to turn away.

"Wait," Jack stopped her. "Where's the bathroom."

"The bathhouse?" Kit asked then continued without waiting for an answer. "It's down the street, I can take you there then get the clothes."

Jack looked at her in surprise then slowly got up off the bed. *Down the street? There is something strange about this town.*

Kit noted Jack's obvious pain as he stood. A hot bath would do him good, no doubt. And she could probably rustle up some clothes from Mrs. Potter. She had a little bit of pocket money, and could probably get something on credit, since she'd done some chores for the woman on occasion. Besides, Miss Maggie would no doubt prefer that their bloody, muddy visitor not rest on her clean bedclothes. As Jack stumbled towards the door, Kit winced at the stains he'd already left on the bed. She noticed that Jack had left his jacket tossed haphazardly on the foot of the bed, and was glad when he didn't seem inclined to take it with him.

"Well, let's go then," Jack sighed. "After you." He indicated the door with a weary wave of his hand.

"Such a gentleman," Kit couldn't resist teasing. Jack's response was predictable, and she grinned at his scowl as she entered the hallway. Jack followed, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Oh, damn," he said after they'd taken a few steps. "My jacket." Sighing, he turned to go back to the room.

Kit grabbed his elbow, and Jack hissed in pain as she hit a tender spot. She immediately released him. "It's not far to the bathhouse," she assured him. "You won't need it." *Besides, how can I look it over if you've got it with you?*

Jack wavered for a moment, indecisive, then gave half a shrug and continued down the hall with Kit. *It's more walking to go get it,* he rationalized. The pair stepped out onto the boardwalk and made the short journey to the town's bathhouse.

Kit ushered him inside and he stopped in shock. "What the--"

"Mr. Pierson!" Kit called, and Jack winced as her shout pierced his throbbing head. A man came out of the depths of the building and stopped short as he got a glimpse of the visitors.

"Miss Pelli..." he started in an undertone, glancing back over his shoulder nervously. "Y-you can't..."

"It's okay, Mr. Pierson, I'm not coming in. I just wanted to deliver a customer for you," she assured him with a grin and a nod at Jack, who was still standing dumbfounded beside her. "He had a bad evening at the saloon, I was wondering if you could help him clean up while I fetch him some more respectable clothes?" Kit fished a piece of silver from the pocket of her split skirt and handed it to the proprietor. Pierson looked at the coin in his hand, then back up at Kit in surprise. "If you could take care of him...?" Kit trailed off meaningfully.

"O-of course," Pierson stammered, turning solicitously to Jack. "This way, er, Mister..."

"Malone," Jack supplied automatically, still looking at the rustic furnishings around him. Boy, they sure went in for authenticity here. Pierson gestured for Jack to follow him, and Jack looked over at Kit.

"Go on," she shooed with a wave. "I'll be back shortly with some clothes." *And some answers,* she mentally added as Jack and Mr. Pierson disappeared from sight.

Jack followed Mr. Pierson around a curtain wondering what Kit had meant when she told the man to "take care of him." He stopped suddenly when he realized he was in some kind of communal bath. There were large tubs set up in the room, one of which was occupied. Mr. Pierson went to another tub and started filling it with water while Jack stood watching, flabbergasted.

"I'll get some more water," he said trying to go around Jack. Jack grabbed his arm to stop him.

"I, uh, I wanted the bathroom."

Mr. Pierson looked at him blankly then made a little motion with his hand to the tubs.

"No, no, I want the toilet, the facilities," he was getting more urgent the longer he stood surrounded by water.

"The outhouse is out back, Mr. Malone."

"The outhouse."

"Is out back," Mr. Pierson finished for him, indicating a door.

"Is out back."

Mr. Pierson understood why Miss Pelli wanted him to take care of this guy, he looked rather beaten up and was obviously confused. "I'll get the rest of the water."

Jack watched him go then looked around the room again. Some curtains, tubs, and steam filled the room. *This can't be right...* Slowly he walked to the door and opened it. There was indeed an outhouse there, though he'd been expecting a Royal Flush, and he cautiously walked up to the wooden structure and knocked. There was no response so he went in.

When he went back into the bathhouse Mr. Pierson was just finishing filling the tub and the other man was getting dressed. "Here's your bath, Mr. Malone, and here's some soap and a wash cloth. You just call if you need anything else."

*I could've used some toilet paper a minute ago,* Jack grumbled to himself as he watched the proprietor leave. He waited another minute as the other man finished getting dressed and left as well.

*Where the heck am I?* he wondered as he slowly pulled his shirt over his head. He gritted his teeth against the pain the movement caused him. He surveyed his upper body and saw more bruises than normal skin color, though he was covered in dirt so it might not be as bad as it looked. *This is just great,* he sighed sarcastically. He struggled with his pants for a while then got tired of it and gave them a hard tug letting the snaps come undone with a flurry of pops. When he was finally undressed he slid into the tub and forgot about how much he didn't want to be there. The tension of three days on the run slowly drained away as the hot water soothed his battered body. *This isn't so bad...*

"We've gotta find a momma for that baby," Nathan muttered, casting a quick glance at the pew where Clair sat. "She's gonna need food and looking after."

Buck was resting peacefully on his pallet, the wound cleaned and dressed to Nathan's satisfaction. Mary had entered the chuch a short while ago, and Vin and Nathan filled her in with a sketchy version of what had transpired at the Taylor ranch. She was aghast at the story, even though the men had left out the more graphic parts, telling her that Kitty's parents had been killed and leaving it at that. Nathan and Vin had no explanation of what the thing that attacked Buck had been, so they told Mary it was a wild animal of some sort, avoiding awkward questions on the subject.

Now Mary turned her concern to the infant. "Yes," she said quietly, also looking over at Clair. The younger woman tightened her grip on the baby and stared back at the group defiantly. "But who?"

Vin shook his head. "I don't know." There was a mess of strange things going on in their quiet little town, and it bothered the tracker deeply. Finding a wetnurse for Kitty was one of the last things on his mind.

Mary sighed. "Well, why don't I take the baby back over to the newspaper offices. I can find her something to eat there. Perhaps I can get something from the hotel."

Nathan nodded, knowing that Mary was more than capable caring for the child. "She seems okay, but I'll be over when I can to check on her."

Mary gave a last look at Buck's sleeping form before turning and walking over to Clair's pew. She stopped in front of Clair and paused expectantly.

Jon chuckled as he heard the girl try and sneak out of the boarding house. If she felt well enough to try that, she was either okay or very determined. Either way, he'd keep an eye on here.

Jasper and Jezebelle where right where he had left them. Rosie was no where to be seen. That was just as well, the pup would only have been underfoot while he conducted business.

He unpacked the carefully loaded furs and headed toward the trading post. He should get a decent price for this batch.

Jon's business completed, he headed toward the general store for supplies.

Chandrika scowled at Chris as they entered the church. She felt as if someone punched her in the chest when she heard a small baby cry a bit. Ever since she lost her child at 16 in a car accident she could sense other babies keenly and the utmost worst thing was how her body reacted. It was as if she was a newly made mother who was ready to breast feed and care for a child. She knew it all stemmed from her telepathy and empathy but it didn't help her when it came to comfort or embarasssment. How does a woman who is not pregnant and has no child explain why her breasts where ready to feed a child? Times like now she wished she didn't have this *gift* so to speak. Especially now. Very much especially now. She could tell just from the possesiveness in which the girl was holding the baby that the baby's parent's where dead, not to mention she could sense it in their minds. But if they knew about this little feeding thing she was now capable of, she couldn't afford to and protect the other men. Then again, maybe that would be a good cover. Chandrika tipped her head to the side, but a flash of pain through her chest as the baby cried more hit her, sending her almost sprawling into Chris who grabbed her arms.

"Are you all right Ms. Ryley?" he asked. Chandrika nodded curtly crossing her arms over her chest.

Charlie leaned forward putting her elbow on the table and resting her head on her hand. She traced her finger over the lines on the table. Her face showed an even bigger frown than she's walked in with, and her eyes kept shutting from being so tired, but she wouldn't let herself fall asleep. She swayed slightly as she tried to keep her balance in the chair. She looked up to see Inez staring at her with a worried expression. Charlie gave her what she thought was a mean glare, but actually turned out to be more of a drowsy, sick sort of look. Inez shook her head sympathetically and went back to her customers.

Charlie decided she'd had enough of the saloon. She stood up, none to gracefully, and stumbled out of the place. Once she was on the boardwalk she steadied herself on the porch post and took a deep breath. She couldn't remember what she was doing. She leaned her head against the post and felt the pain of the bruised collarbone again. The pain shot through her neck and shoulder, and she figured maybe she should see Nathan. Forgetting everything else she literally tumbled down the steps to the street. Passerby got wide eyes as they saw the girl, who was falling down drunk, falling down the down the stairs.

Charlie stood up and continued toward the church occasionally tripping over her own feet, or stopping to catch her breath. When she reached the church steps she took them slowly and one at a time. She pushed the door open and peeked inside.

"Nathan!" She whispered loudly. Nathan looked up at her. "I need your help," She slurred. Nathan walked toward her, worried. "I got hurt or something..." She opened the door all the way and closed it slowly. She leaned heavily on the back of the nearest pew. Nathan stopped a few feet away from her, she looked tired, and very drunk. Her green eyes had dark circles under them, and they looked even darker against her pale skin.

"Charlie," He took her arm and helped her sit down. He saw how everyone was now staring at the poor girl. "You been drinkin'?" He really didn't have to ask, he could smell the beer on her breath. Charlie shrugged as wooziness suddenly set in.

"How did you get hurt?" He asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know. I just know it hurts whenever I touch this right here." She held her finger a few inches from her collarbone. Nathan looked over the place and then looked at the other side.

"You mean over here?" He pointed to the opposite side. It was dark blue and swollen. Charlie shrugged again. "I think you just got hit by somethin'." He touched the darkest place and made sure it wasn't broken. Charlie winced at the pain. "I'll get you a wet towel to put on that. Maybe bring that swellin' down a bit." He stood up. Charlie waited silently, counting the holes in the floor. Nathan came back and was bit disturbed by the way the girl was acting. As he started to fold the towel and put it over her shoulder, Charlie began to talk.

"Did you know that I can see tomorrow today? And I saw today yesterday, but I can't see tomorrow today, because there won't be a tomorrow. Tell 'im Clair. Tell him what we saw." She looked over Nathan's shoulder at the girl who was staring at her. "And did you know that Clair could read minds? That's how she saw what I saw. She knows how to get into peoples heads, she can tell what you're thinking. Lord, I wish this room would quit turning in all directions!" She rubbed a dirty hand over her face and tried to hold herself up by leaning slightly on Nathan. "And did you know that that thing that attacked Buck was pure evil! Ain't no other way to explain it! It's after that baby." She pointed in Clair's direction, but managed to point behind her. "We gotta get that baby outta here, 'cause, you know, if that thing comes looking for it," She looked around. "We're all goners! Hell!" She smirked. "We're all gonna die anyway!" She said loudly tossing a hand in the air. The entire room got silent. "And I saw it all...I knew it was coming. I knew what would happen when we went out there today. And this town....is going to be destroyed by whatever evil it was that killed....those two people." Her words were still slurred, and she still swayed in different directions.

Nathan stood up. All he could think of was that the girl had had way too much to drink. She had drunk away all her senses. Now she was only talking crazy. He and the others in the room looked at each other, then he settled his eyes on Clair.

Mary, who was waiting to take baby, looked appalled at Charlie's condition and shocked at the words coming from her mouth. She just stared at the tipsy young woman.

Vin looked down at Buck to make sure he was still asleep. He was sure that if he'd seen or heard his neice he'd get riled up about it. He remembered the last time she'd had a little too much too drink. He'd talked the girl to sleep in the middle of the saloon.

Clair looked rather uncomfortable with the silence, the staring, the looks of utter confusion between the group.

Charlie looked up and saw everyone. "Oh great!" She rolled her eyes. "Now everyone's mad at me! Buck, and..." She waved a hand at Clair, having momentarily blanked out on the name. "her were mad at me first, now everyone's mad at me! You think I'm crazy? Clair will tell ya the truth! She knows, she saw it too." Charlie looked up at Chris and woman next to him. She saw the looks on their faces and turned her eyes to the ceiling, waiting for someone to speak.

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