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We'll do a little frog giggin', cow tippin'
How 'bout a little skinny dippin', bass fishin'
Take it easy on the 'shine
And stay away from other boys' women
That's one damn good way for a
man to get it whooped down here
These boys tough down here
Get your ass tore up down here
And be an all nighter with the hippies and the hicks
Jocks and bikers, they all came
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Ruger's ability at concealing emotion was a gift he was especially grateful for as they followed Blue's confident footfalls toward the exit. He desperately wanted to get Polly out of that corridor of death...wanted to separate her as much as he could from the evil that could reappear at any moment. Her strength and cunning were unbeatable--just from what he had seen so far, he knew she rivaled some of the men he had served with in the sandbox in both skill and physical aptitude. Even so, Ruger didn't give a single damn. It wasn't about who she was for Ruger in those moments...it was what she was. Underneath it all, beyond her prowess and impeccable hunting capabilities...she was a woman. Despite the marked differences between what had happened to Kathryn and the partnership he had accepted in Polly, his mind simply could not get past the fact that the last time a woman had depended on him, he had failed. Ruger was not a man prone to fear...he had always found little use in it's presence in his heart. The darker beings that inhabited the shadows, that roamed in the deepest recesses of the earth's secrets and founded the basis of every nightmare...those things he accepted without fear. Death itself sounded like more of a comfort to Ruger than an experience to be fearful of.
But failing another? Of costing another life? That was enough to strike panic into the stony exterior of Ruger's heart.
It was only with calculated and conscious self control that Ruger kept that panic from consuming him completely and snatching Polly up and carrying her as far away from the building as he could. It was with even greater control that he managed to keep his posture and his pace from showing even a hint of the inner turmoil raging within. Oh, he knew he would pay dearly for the confrontation later, when he would lay alone in the seedy hotel across town trying to keep his personal demons at bay with the bottle of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes or two. He had seen Jarilo's face in his dreams for four long years, but had never expected to see it in the flesh again. The full weight of the fact that it had happened hadn't quite grasped him completely...but when it did, he knew it would hit him like a freight train.
His wry humor was his mask, and it was the face the chose to show Polly when she commented on the storm. "Wouldn't have minded seein' a lightnin' bolt send either of those fuckers to hell." He told her gruffly, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips as he passed his gaze toward her. She didn't look too worse for the the wear, from his careful assessment as he watched her move. Surely she would sport some colorful stories on her flesh for a few weeks, and he was willing to bet she'd be picking out splinters for days to come just as he, but oh, it could have been worse. So much worse. As for himself, Ruger felt mildly like he'd been hit by a bus. Not quite a city bus...maybe one of those little Volkswagen micro buses. But a bus nonetheless. It pissed him off that he wasn't moving at his full potential...he didn't like the idea that Polly might look at him like a liability instead of a formidable ally. It was no matter, really...even if that was the conclusion she drew, he knew he would prove it wrong soon enough, if she had enough faith in him to keep him around a bit. Ruger was something of a master when it came to working through the pain. His life had become a regular exercise on the subject, after all.
He watched as the breeze, lightly laced with a fine mist as an aftermath of the storm, pick up her silky strands and dance with them as she turned her face toward it. Even now, with the immediate danger having passed, Ruger felt an overwhelming desire to protect her. To think of Jarilo sinking his fangs into the slender curve of her neck was enough to make Ruger's stomach twist painfully...and also breathed life back into the flames of his anger. It flashed in the clear blue of his gaze as he looked at the nondescript black van, slowly making it's way closer. "I ain't doubtin' that any, but it don't change the fact." He told her lowly, his husky voice really no more than a few decibels above a whisper as he watched the van with cautious interest.
Ruger's hand rose to brush the bloodied strands of his hair away from his eyes once more, though they stubbornly obstructed his view almost immediately following the action. He peered at her intently as she spoke, grizzled face stoic as he took her in. Watched the earnesty shine in her oceanic gaze, her truth just as stark as his own. He didn't peer back at the van, though he was aware of Blue, focused intently on the vehicle with his ears perked. His gaze remained focused on Polly's, even as that saucy little smile tugged t the corners of her lips.
He didn't respond immediately...but it was not because he was weighing her offer. He had accepted it before she'd even voiced it, after all. Would have insisted if she had asked otherwise, in fact. A low breath taken, he closed the distance between them, coming to a halt nearly toe to toe with her. Still his gaze remained trained on hers, but his ruggedly handsome features had taken on another appearance altogether. For the barest moment, the mask was off, and she was getting a good look at just how fervently he wanted her to understand what they would be up against. And the guilt he felt for bringing her into his world, when it was clear she had enough going on in her own. "Now, you listen good here sweetheart, 'cause what I got to say is one of them life and death things." One hand lifted, fingertips featherlight beneath her chin as he tilted it in effort to draw her gaze completely to his own. "That thing in there. That ain't a critter you mess with on your own. Ain't no leech. Not totally. You're a helluva fighter....but even I don't know what the fuck that thing is. Not completely. And I had someone depend on me once where he was concerned. Didn't turn out so well." Ruger's gaze was hard as he admitted those words, but he moved on, unwilling to elaborate further. "You promise me you don't go after that critter on your own. You promise me that, sugar, and this Tiger'll keep up til the end of the goddamn earth." He held her chin just a beat longer before letting go, and he finally dropped her gaze in favor of casting a glance toward the van. "If you wanna run with this ol' tomcat, that is."
Blue shifted slightly, nosing Polly's left palm. He huffed, then looked up at Ruger. Ruger patted the dog's massive head, then nodded toward her hand. "Everythin' alright? Noticed you was favorin' it a bit earlier." He smirked just slightly, though the grin was humorles. "What a pair, eh? We aint' even got started yet and blood's been shed. It'll make for an interestin' story come mornin." His hand absently wandered to his flank, testing the dampness around the wound. He would need a new shirt and a cleanup before they proceeded, or else they might as well broadcast their location. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his keys, jingling them at her. "Well let's get on with it then. I always did enjoy a good interrogation." That sly little half smirk danced on his lips again as he tossed her the keys. "You're gonna have to handle the beast though, woman. I got cleanin' up to do." Always prepared, he had a couple clean shirts and plenty of wet naps in is glove compartment. Plus a water bottle and a few rags...which, he hoped, would be enough to wipe away the blood and staunch the flow from his flank.
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Our side of the barbed wire
Money grows in rows
If it don't you're goin' broke
So we
We hang out by the bonfire
Just the good ol' boys having a dang good time
We crank it up down here
We get loud down her
Throwin' down in the dirty, dirty south down here
Be an all nighter with the hippies and the hicks
Jocks and bikers, they all came to kick it in the
sticks
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