by Ness Ayton

Disclaimer: They don’t belong to me, as if you all didn’t know.

Explanation: This is the first thing I’ve written for a very long time, inspired by both the programme itself and all you wonderful writers out there, particularly Sue N whose stories I adore but who probably doesn’t realise what an influence she’s had on me!

This is OW, genfic and quirky – I do quirky a lot! But I am working on some non-quirky. The picture is a clue to the main character.

Anyway, let me know what you think.


Vin Tanner stood in the middle of Four Corners’ main street; hands on hips, bullets flying around him and glared his best Larabee glare; fair shouting the word.

“Huh?” The woman bent over the keyboard looked up and stared at him.

“I said no. Whatever it is I ain’t gonna do it!”

“You ain’t? I mean aren’t?”

“Nope, I ain’t. Whether it’s being shot; stabbed; falling off Peso; being knocked out; tied up; getting caught in a storm, landslide, flash flood; being scared of the noose; not wanting to be tied down; disfigured spine; bad tempered horse; horrendous childhood memories – you see I know them all; and that doesn’t even begin to cover all those things you can’t mention in genfic– I don’t care, I ain’t doing it!” As he spoke he counted the calamities off on his fingers.


He glared again.

“What part of ‘no’ don’tcha understand?”


“You writers can give me a rest. I’ve had enough. I’m outta here.”

“But you suffer so……..well.”

“Well, I’m not doing it no more!”

“That’s a double negative,” the woman frowned.

“Go to hell,” he snapped and, after another glare, turned on his heel and started to walk away through the hail of bullets.

“Okay,” the woman said thoughtfully. “Let’s see. I suppose I’ll just have to shoot Chris instead.”

“Chris!” Vin’s head snapped round, quickly followed by the rest of his body. “You can’t shoot Chris.”

“But if I can’t shoot you…..” She left the threat hanging.

He stood for a moment, eyes cast down and shoulders slumped; then he looked across at the blond man crouched behind the horse trough.

“Aw hell,“ he breathed softly and made his way over to his wagon. “Okay, do it.”

The shot tore through his shoulder; eliciting a small moan and sending him face down into the dirt. He heard Chris scream his name and then felt himself dragged into the shade of the wheels. Opening his eyes he looked up into the green eyes above him.

“Chris,” he moaned softly, “you’re safe.”

He shot a pain filled glance at the woman poised over the keyboard.

“Okay, I’s shot,” he hissed. “Now, can we get this over and done with, please?”

As he lost consciousness he heard Chris’ confused voice.


And the woman grinned.