Bourbon, Black Bart, Big Bears (Day 2 Late Afternoon)

The open topped shuttle booked by the doc lowered to its’ skids. Dorian climbed down, before turning to assist Serena as she stepped onto the grass. “Easy now, Little Sistah,” he took both her hands.

Serena giggled as he did, gingerly taking the step down to not ruin the tape she coveted covering the gunshot wound. “Tha drinkin’ age is sixteen,” she reminded him. “An Ah’m sixteen.”

Adler offered his arm. “Yah are out with me,” he reminded her as they made their way into the festive environment. “Ah’ll make sure yah get a coupla tastes. And Ah must say,” he added, “yah look very lovely, mei-mei.”

Serena twirled in the pink floral sundress Yazmina had given her for the occasion, the breeze being refreshing on her legs. “You like it? Ah borrowed it special for the High Spirits,” she told him. “Do yah think they’ll have pretty lights like New Kasmir?”

He reclaimed the girl’s arm to keep her from losing her balance. “Ah need yah tah take it easy,” the medic cautioned. “Prob’ly not lights in tha sky...but it’s a festival. Once it gets dark an’ tha neon comes tah life, Ah conjure it could get very colorful.” Arm in arm, they strolled along the booths of the carnival midway. Barkers shouted their hooks and attractions. “Put the ball in the cup and win a prize! Shoot the Browncoat! Land on the planet and win a teddy bear for your sweetie!”

“No shortage of distractions tahday, “ Adler observed. “Well, mei-mei...what tickles yah fancy?”

“Yah gotta play a shootin’ game,” she said, wide eyed as she took in all of the sights and sounds. “Ah bet you can win anythin’ you shoot at!”

Doirian chuckled. “Lead on,” he gestured.

Serena bit her lip and grabbed his hand, bounding from one booth to the next. She could have skipped, but each time she tried, the tape caused her to wince. One booth had milk bottles set up with a baseball you could throw at them, another had clowns to knock over, but the perfect game for him was easy to spot. “This one!” She said excitedly. The game had a holstered pistol, and an animatronic villain with a robotic am, ready to draw. “Show ‘em what’s what, Da ge! Win a bear in a Keller hat!”

“Welcome to High Noon, Pardner!” the barker greeted Dorian. “Purty simple game. All yah gotta do is outdraw Black Bart! Beat ‘im three times an’ the purty lady gets a teddy bear! Have yah got the courage to face this gunslinger?”

“Ah don’t know,” Dorian quipped at the snarl painted on Black Bart’s cartoonish face. “He looks a might peeved.”

“Just step right up an’ you can shoot that frown right off his face!”

With a smile for Serena, Dorian moved onto the line. The plastic gun hung in its’ holster.

“When Bart says ‘Draw!’, you draw!” the barker instructed. “Now don’t miss, hombre!”

“Come on, Mistah Doctah Adluh!” Serena cheered. “Ah know yah can do it!”

“Ah’m a dead man.” Dorian adopted his usual posture, a casual sort of relaxation. His thumb tapped the belt where normally one of his own pistols would reside. “Ah suppose Ah’m ready,” he said.

“You think you can outdraw me, you lily livered tenderfoot?” the robotic gunfighter taunted. “Get ready to eat lead. Three...two...one...Draw!”

The metallic arm was a third of the way up when Adler’s weapon scored the point. Before the recorded voice could shout “you got me!” the doc had returned the red plastic revolver to its’ holster.

“Two more!” Serena counted, clapping her hands. “Make ‘em push-up daisies, Mistah Doctah Adluh!”

Adler grinned at the girl. ‘Ah’m yah Hā kè bèi lì,” he chuckled. The scowling robot issued a fresh taunt before resuming the countdown.

“Three...two...one...Dr...hoooowee!” Black Bart shouted as his hat flew back on his head. “Got me agin,” you snake!”

“Mister, I din’ even see your hand move,” the barker scratched his head. “How you so fast?”

“Plastic gun,” Dorian laughed, “and no bourbon yet.”

The barker moved off to one side. ‘One more,” he said, “and yer pretty girlfriend gets to choose a bear! You ready?” Undeen by his patrons, the showman rolled up the animatronic gunman’s speed setting.

“He called me pretty!” Serena whispered with a giggle. “Oh he’s ready all right, Black Bart don’t stand a chance!”

The animatronic outlaw spoke again. “Think yer somethin’ special, pardner? “Wait til I put a hole in ye. Three...two...one...Draw!” This time, Bart’s mechanical arm shot upward like a lighting bolt. Dorian squeezed the trigger, but was beaten by the robot. “I got you, you lowdown goat roper!”

“Tough luck, cowpoke!” the barker smiled. “But you got two more chances to beat Bart!”

Dorian offered a wry smile. “Looks like old Bart got his settin’s turned up a notch.”

The barker shook his head emphatically. “Strictly an honest game, my friend. But,” he tilted his head, “if you’re up to put some coin on the next shot, we can sweeten the deal.”

“How so?”

“Ten spot on the table. You beat Bart, yer lovely lady friend can pick any bear off the top shelf. You lose?” he smiled. “I take the ten.”

“Gun’s in mah hand...at mah belt,” Adler countered.

“Done.”

“That one!!” Serena said confidently, pointing to a bear with a pink bow.

Dorian placed a 10 credit note on the barker’s counter. He removed the toy pistol from its’ holster, before resting it against his right hip.

“This is it, you pesky varmint!” the robot shootist threatened. “Get ready fer the undertaker! “Three….two...one...Draw!” The mechanical arm burst upward. “You got me!” Bart shouted, spinning around on it’s mechanical pivot. Dorian stood in place, his own gun leveled just above his hip.

“Hey, mister, yer sposed to lift yer arm!” the barker protested.

“Honest game, right?” Adler chuckled as he retrieved his money. “Yah heard Bart...he called tha shot. Ah believe,” the medic put his arm around Serena, “that this lady has chosen her bear.”

“That one!” Serena said practically bouncing on her toes. “On account of you said Ah can pick any bear off the top shelf, an’ he’s on tha top shelf!” She looped her free arm around Mistah Doctah Adluh’s waist. “An tell Black Bart not tah feel bad. “Mistah Doctah Adluh is numbah sevn in tha verse when it comes to gunslinging. We’re glad tah see he honors tha code.”

“Aw,” Dorian shrugged as they walked away with their prize, “Ah doubt old Bart cares much fah tha code.” He laughed at the delight with which she treated the bear. “So, mei-mei,” Adler ventured, “gunfightin’s thirsty work. There’s a booth from Earth-That-Was Distillery ovah there. What say we take Bart Junior in fah a taste ‘o’ bourbon?”

“Thank you for tha bear! Drinkin’ age is sixteen!” she reminded him. “An Ah’m a Connoisseur!”

“Twenty year, if yah please,” Adler lifted two fingers to the waitress as they took their seats. “Neat.” Bart Junior, the prize bear, occupied a chair between them at the small table. Once the glasses were delivered, Dorian offered a toast. “Tah tha last duel Ah evah hope tah fight.” Their glasses clinked together, and he sipped at the earthy beverage.

Serena watched him closely, and took a sip about the same size as his. The bourbon warmed a trail down her throat to her belly, but it didn’t burn her nose like the captain’s. “It’s good… “ She said, pursing her lips together. “A little sweet, but not like sugar, right?” She took another small sip.

He nodded pleasantly. “Just a bit,” Dorian lifted a finger. ‘Take a sip, an’ let it roll around in yah mouth a little, tah get all tha flavahs. Yah’ll find,” he said, “that what tastes one way on tha tip of yah tongue will taste entirely different as yah swallow it.” He swirled his glass. “Aftah time, yah’ll taste grain, perhaps some vanilla, and also even tha oak from tha barrel.” The medic savored another sip, eyeing the teen as she concentrated on her own glass. “So,” Adler said quietly, “feel free tah tell me this is none of mah business...but did yah evenin’ go well?”

“Yah told me…” She replied, swirling the glass like he did. “Tah use discretion. And Ah promised tah only share the bits that a girl should give her big brothah. Ah’ve nevah had a brothah to know what bits one tells or doesn’t tell. Ah still don’t know if Gil like-likes me though.”

“He’s a nervous young man,” the medic offered his reassurance. “His first time, aftah all. Mah first time?” Dorian smiled at the memory. “Ah was a nervous wreck. Only savin’ grace was that tha young lady was equally rattled.” Dorian took a sip, then offered a final opinion. “Mistah Gill seemed awful happy when Ah left y’all last night. Tah discretion,” he reached across the table with his glass for a toast. Not what I’d expected, he thought, watching the girl who clearly wrestled with her thoughts.

“Did yah like-like her? Tha young lady?” Serena asked, toasting him back and taking another sip.”

He nodded. “She was a girl from tha next farm down tha valley,” Dorian offered a smile. “Pretty thing with fire red hair, blue eyes, an’ some freckles across her face.” He signalled for refills. “Ah was evah bit as nervous as Ah saw yah Mistah Gill. Good thing was,” he added, “she was willin’ tah let us try it a few more times….leastways til her parents caught us in their dryin’ barn,” he chuckled.

“Ah can’t pictuah yah bein’ not good at sex.” Serena said, finishing off her glass. “Not if the sound you an Marisol or you an the Lieutenant are any measurin’ bar. And that ain’t all from eavesdropping, there’s thin walls.”

Dorian smiled as he lifted the second glass. “Cheers,” he offered. “Somethin’ yah should know. Marisol an’ Ah nevah had sex.”

Serena raised an eyebrow. “Don’t lie less you want lied to,” she warned.

He curled his pinkie. “Honest an’ swear.” As the girl listened, Dorian recounted finding the bug in the medbay, and enlisting Marisol’s help in creating a “radio drama” to lure the compulsively sexualized Jacy to expose herself. “So,” he concluded, “we thought playin’ it up would get her so worked up she couldn’t resist challengin’ one of us. She nevah did,” Dorian said as he lifted his drink. “Leastways, not til it served her purposes.”

“Did ya want to have sex with her?” The inquisitive teen pressed as she took a sip from the second glass, fixing her eyes on him as he spoke.

Dorian nodded. “Ah did. Marisol’s a beautiful woman,” Dorian said. “Wasn’t what she wanted. We did, howevah, become tha best of friends. Ah saved her life once….an’ she saved mine a few times.”

“Why wouldn’t she wanna have sex with you?” Serena asked, surprised, the idea seeming unfathomable as she finished her second bourbon, forgetting to hold it for a moment like he’d said.

“Married, fah one thing,” he shrugged. “Children at home. An’ she had responsibilities...believe me, our friendship is too valuable tah us both now, mei-mei. Ah love her like Ah love you. Would do anythin’ fah eithah one of yah.” He took a reflective sip. “That’s why Ah set you an’ Gill up. Sorry if it didn’t turn out like yah hoped.”

“Ah didn’t say it didn’t, ah like like Gil, but we don’t much talk on account of he’s always bumping into somethin’ or runnin’ away, so ah can’t tell yah much. Like where he’s from, you know, like you’re from Hera, or if he likes mustard on his sandwiches, like you don’t, Ah don’t know what his Dad’s name was, like yours was Charles, and his brown eyes aren’t the same as your brown eyes on account of yours have little flecks of gold in ‘em. He doesn’t even get what an oven mitt is, ‘cept something you use in the kitchen to take somethin’ hot outta the oven.”

Dorian smiled, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Guess that means Ah’m fortunate,” he lifted his glass toward the girl. “We had a lot of conversation...and that made us intah friends,” he clinked her glass before taking a sip. “Now, yah mah mei-mei...and that makes me happy. Maybe you’n Gill will get closah...if yah want. If not...take mah word fah it, Serena. Yah very beautiful, with a plain spoken nature an’ a kindness that people can see. Yah’ll have yah chance fah tha right man. Ah don’t doubt it a bit.”

“Yah think Ah’m beautiful?” She asked with a giggle. “Can ah ask you anotha question?”

Adler cast a glance toward the gunslinging bear. “Don’t suppose Bart Junior can save me now,” he shrugged. “Ask away.”

“Crew chief said he doesn’t like me *like that.* So how do yah know if a boy likes yah *like that,* or if it’s just yah the only girl ‘round his own age willin’ tah have sex or play spin tha bottle with yah?”

Dorian chose to forego any comment on Vas’ proclivities. There were demons lurking there, demons who would defy explanation to the black and white sensibilities of Serena Edwards. Jacy...Annika...didn’t help that boy at all with her grandstanding antics, he thought. Likewise, Yazmina. As the one person who might be able to undo some of the damage wrotught by the pervious “Companion,” she’d pretty much shunned the situation when Adler discussed te therapeutic value to Vas. Mayhaps I’ll hire him another, he thought to himself.

“Men are pretty simple, truth be told,” he offered. “Best way tah know if someone thinks about yah ‘that way’ is tha interest they show. Tell yah what,” he chuckled. “As we’re walkin’ around tha fair this aftahnoon, see how many boys an’ young men look at yah. Pretty girl like yah will have no shortage of interest. An’ Ah guaranty every one of ‘em will be lookin’ at yah ‘that way.’ It’s up tah you tah decide who yah spend yah time with...who yah let take yah out..who yah wanna get close tah. Now, Gill,” Dorian stopped to swirl the last of his second drink, “he’s still tryin’ tah figure it out. Yah can help him,” the medic said, “or yah can wait til someone yah like bettah comes along. Yah’ll have lots of choices in this life.” He finished the bourbon, and offered his hand. “Shall we go conduct our social experiment?”

Serena giggled again, *he called me pretty,* and took his hand in hers. “Yes!” she said finishing her bourbon as well, “I’d like tah be a connoisseur when it comes tah boys. Or… men.”

“Don’t fahget Bart Junior,” he pointed toward the gunslinging teddy bear. “Ah think he’s lookin’ at yah ‘that way” Dorian quipped as he and Serena left, arm in arm, to finish exploring the fair.

“C’mon, Bart Junior.” Serena said picking up the comically large bear. “We got bourbon to try and some *social experimenting* to do.”