Starfox Alternative: One and Nineteen More
Leon pulled back the corrugated iron sheet and slipped into the dark and humid access tunnel. A few lanterns hung from beams, dimly illuminating the passage further into the mine. Despite the lighting, the way ahead was barely lit, the constant particulate matter than hung in the air obscuring any vision beyond a few dozen feet. Stepping cautiously over a pile of discarded mining tools, the charmeleon pressed forward into the depths.
"Boss! Bossss!"
The gold vein had run dry decades ago, along with most other mines in the area. As the miners left, the vagrants moved in, claiming the abandoned shafts and dugouts as their own. With little interest in such matters on the part of law enforcement, it was a simple matter for the O'Donnell gang to take up residence in the Sargasso Gold Mine.
"Bosssss!"
Leon, picking up his pace as the tunnel sloped gently downward, bellowed and screeched ahead. His voice carried far in the confines of the mine, sure to be heard by his waiting partners. After a few dozen yards, the tunnel flattened and widened, coming to a large, well lit open area, cleared of rubble and detritus. It was here that they had made themselves their encampment. A fire crackled in the centre of the den, warming the air to a temperature slightly above comfortable, but nonetheless providing necessary lighting. Strewn about the area were a number of bedrolls and personal effects, placed upon aging tables or stacked on worn wooden shelves. Of particular note was a large, sturdy workbench, perhaps some twelve feet long. Arranged haphazardly about its surface was veritable armoury of weapons, ranging from revolvers and shotguns, to long rifles and repeaters. More notable still was the unmistakable outline of a maxim gun, a weapon recently pilfered by the gang on a heist against federal agents crossing through the territories to the east coast. In part, it was for this reason that they had spent the past few days hiding away in the mine.
"Boss, we've got a problem!"
Wolf O'Donnell, wanted outlaw, notorious gunslinger and leader of the O'Donnell gang, sat at the workbench with his boots up, turning a finely engraved revolver over in his paws.
"And what might that be?" he asked, his tone one of disinterest and boredom.
The chameleon inched closer, wary of the wolf. While not prone to bursts out anger or aggression like a number of his previous employers, the lupine was far from kind to those he perceived as incompetent.
"Well, uh," stammered Leon. "sssome fox in town is looking for you, saysss he's offering forty dollarsss for your head."
Wolf chuckled. "Forty dollars? Is that all? Panther, how much did that last guy offer you to rat me out?"
"Two hundred." came the reply, deep and silky smooth.
"Perhaps I'm losing it." mused Wolf, setting the revolver down. "You think so, Leon? I mean, forty dollars is a handy little pay packet, but I was hoping perhaps I'd warrant a bit more."
"I uh..." said Leon, glancing nervously about.
"And yet, even though some mutt comes rides in, waving a lick of a bounty about and you get yourself all scared, come running in here like we've got a hundred feds riding down on us."
"I...I just thought."
"Aw hell." continued Wolf. "Perhaps I am losing in. We only had to shoot half a dozen men that last job. Was it half a dozen, Panther?"
"Five."
"There you go. Five men, just like that. What might this fox's name be?" he asked.
"McCloud. Fox McCloud."
"Uh huh, and what makes Mr McCloud so special?"
"He ssssaid he was a ranger from over Arizona way." replied Leon. "Had himself an awfully big gun, wassssn't doing too good a job of hiding it neither. He's either just showboating, or he's here for some businesssss. Take your pick, boss."
"Let's say he's here with putting a few chunks of lead in my on his mind." said Wolf. "Think you might be able to see to it that that doesn't happen, or do I need to go myself?"
"Uh, yeah!" said Leon, his voice rising. "I'll get on it!"
"Maybe you might want to be reminding Bill Grey of our agreement, perhaps he can just send this mutt on his way."
Wolf watched Leon scamper his way back up the access tunnel towards the entrance to the mine. He gave the chameleon fifty-fifty odds of being able to remove this latest inconvenience. He was more than confident in his own abilities; the twenty kills notched up on his pistol proof of that. He was, however, more than just a good shot, he was ruthless and cunning. He knew that fear was just as effective at preying on small towns as bullets and knifes. To that end, facing all comers himself would be unseemly; the allure of the outlaw was steeped in mystery, something Wolf was careful to cultivate. In keeping a low profile, he made his public appearances all the more intimidating. He wasn't about to lose sleep over some fox from the territories.
"Forty dollars now..."
"There you go, room's all yours for the night." said Krystal, motioning through the doorway. "I'll draw a warm bath for you at seven o'clock."
"Many thanks, ma'am."
"You know." she continued, shuffling a little close. "I'm finishing up just after. A fox wouldn't be included to buy a lady a drink after he's done doing whatever he does, would he?"
"He just might." replied Fox. "That's of course if what he done does doesn't do him in."
Krystal giggled. "You're cute. Are you really planning on taking down O'Donnell?"
"That's the idea, unless someone comes up with a better one."
"I might venture that you just drop it." said the vixen, her voice suddenly dour. "Not just for your own hide's sake, mind you. You wouldn't have come all the way over from Arizona if he was just some small-time crook. He's bad news, and he don't got his reputation for nothing, no telling what he'll do once he finds out someone's fit to take him."
"I'll get him." said Fox. "Don't you worry your pretty little head."
Krystal forced out a meek smile. "Well alright then, s'pose I gotta get that drink off you anyhow."
Without saying another word, the vixen spun on the spot and started off down the narrow corridor, headed back towards the bar. Fox watched her depart before entering his room and depositing his travel pack on the creaky wooden bed. His possessions were meagre; a few fresh pairs of undergarments, a few days rations and camping supplies, as well as the clothes on his back.
And of course, his revolver.
The room itself showed little sign of recent use. One of four the saloon offered for rent; the worn door frame and handle, along with the well trodden rug suggested that it had once seen better days and more frequent custom. In days past, saloons such as this were welcome stops for travellers heading west toward the pacific. In its current state, however, the thick layer of dust and fading curtains rang true to a town down on its luck, devoid of much needed income from both its now dry mines and hospitality establishments. Fox, however, was not here to revitalise the local economy.
The walk to the gunsmith recommended to him by the barman served only to reinforce his rapidly deteriorating opinion of the town. Eyes followed him up the street, yet no-one came close, going so far as to duck behind a building or rapidly change direction as he approached. Icy receptions were par for the course in his line of work, but this was something else, as if the entire town was gripped by fear. Even the children, ever curious towards new arrivals in most towns, were sullen and reclusive, playing by themselves, if at all.
"You'd find more cheer at the gallows..."
Ignoring the townsfolk, Fox pushed on until he came to the gunsmith's shop. Compared to many of the other buildings in town, this one had been maintained to a high standard. The windows were clean and dust free, the door freshly painted and signed, reading very simply 'Peppy's'. A pair of painted revolvers completed the signage.
His paw instinctively brushing over his own weapon, Fox pushed the door open and entered.
"Well good morning, Mr McCloud." said the proprietor, an elderly rabbit. "What can we get done for you today?"
"Really? That fast?" replied Fox, slightly surprised that his name was already known.
"Hardly, but you can't just expect yerself to be walking into town, waving yer bounty about and claiming you're gonna take down that O'Donnell brute without folks taking notice. Don't take but five minutes to run from one end of Agua Fria to the other, easy to find out when strangers come a visiting."
"Nice to know someone is taking notice." Said Fox. "What's your name, friend?"
"Peppy Hare, at your service. Now, about why you be finding yerself in my humble little shop."
Fox pulled out his revolver and deposited it on the counter with a clunk.
"Needing myself a few pounds of bullets for this old thing." he said. "Think you might be able to oblige?"
Peppy cautiously reached forward and took up the revolver in his paw. He carefully inspected the weapon, turning it over several times in his paw to note the proofing stamps.
"Cornerian Ironworks single action," he said, replacing the pistol upon the benchtop. "Model eighteen seventy seven if I'm not mistaken. Fifty-seventy Government, pretty rare cartridge, not going to find many places stocking them this side of the Mississippi, folks these days are running around with the Forty-five Colt. Any reason you be needing something so big?"
"Long story." said Fox, picking up the revolver and shoving it into his holster. "I'm taking it you don't have any?"
"Sorry, Mr McCloud, can't say that I do. Could always sell you a new gun, got a nice little number here for five dollars."
"No thanks, friend. I'll be leaving, then."
"You might not be headed out Sargasso way?" asked Peppy, narrowing his eyes.
"That I am." replied Fox. "No sense giving O'Donnell time to dig himself into that hole."
"Christ son, you got a deathwish? You're not the first to try and I dare say you won't be the last. Won't stop you, though, you're free to act as you see fit. Word of warning, though, sold one of his boys a couple hundred rounds of three-oh-three british a few days back, heaven only knows what they need so much lead for, but you better be expecting to come up against some serious firepower."
"Noted." said Fox. "Thank you kindly. Best be off, wouldn't want to keep O'Donnell waiting."
A voice hissed in the doorway, low and sinister.
"That won't be necesssssary."
Typically, Falco would have paid little attention to the shots as they rung out across the town. Gunfights were common, with disputes often ending poorly for one or both involved parties. From time to time he may have to patch up a hole on the exterior of the saloon, or replace a shattered window, courtesy of a wayward piece of lead.
This time, with the arrival of one Fox McCloud that very morning, such events were unlikely to be mere coincidence. Risking a peek out the window, Falco peered across at the source of the sound.
"Darn it, McCloud, what did I tell ya!"
He recognised the chameleon, Leon Powalski, immediately. One of the O'Donnell gang, the lizard was known for being snide and devious, with a cruelty streak more pronounced than that of even his boss. As he currently was, he was displaying none of these qualities, choosing instead to empty round after round from a lever action shotgun through the doorway of Peppy's gunshop. Falco would have given one hundred to one odds that Fox was in there.
Ducking back from the window, the avian called out for his bar girl.
"Krystal! Bring me my gun!"
It was fortunate for Fox and Peppy that Leon, among other things, was a poor shot. The first cloud of pellets flew high, shattered the glass ammunition cabinet behind the counter. The second shot was lower, but wide, this time pepper the counter itself, throwing splinters into the face of the fox and rabbit.
"Down!" screamed Fox, vaulting the counter.
He landed hard, bring Peppy down with him in the process as more shots flew overhead, showering the pair with splinters.
"I'm here for your hide, foxxy!" yelled the lizard, pacing slowly into the store. "Make it easy and show yourself!"
He let loose a few more shots, working the lever with each round. Fox pulled out his revolver and turned to Peppy. The rabbit was counting.
"Five, six..."
"You alright there, Peppy?" asked Fox.
"Winchester eighteen eighty seven." he said. "Bastard's only got a single shell left. Only gunna be able to hit one of us. How's your shooting arm?"
"Good enough that I won't miss from ten feet." said Fox.
The pair nodded to each other and grasped their weapons tighter, Peppy producing his own revolver from under the counter, a smaller single-action army model. Tensing up, they prepared to spring.
A warm barrel pressed against the top of Fox's skull.
"Shoot! How'd he get over here so quiet-like?"
"Thought you were going to get the sssspring on Leon, did you?" hissed the lizard.
"Easy their friend..."
"Up, foxxy, drop the heavy." he commanded, speaking slowly, his voice dripping with malice.
Fox's revolver clattered to the wooden floor.
"And yoursss." he continued, motioning toward Peppy.
The rabbit's revolver followed suite.
Standing up, Fox turned about to face his captor. The chameleon was grinning broadly, menacingly brandishing the shotgun in Fox's face, the barrel still smoking.
"Think you can jusssst waltz in here mouthing off all that claptrap?" hissed Leon. "Think you can jusssst talk about the bossss like that?"
"With words like those, I'd reckon you'd be with O'Donnell." replied Fox.
"Sharp, sharp, I can see why they sssent you. Perhaps I'll walk you outside and we'll see what colour your brainssss are, make an example for all the good folks in town that you don't messsss with Wolf O'Donnell!"
"Yeah?" came a voice from behind the lizard. "Well, chalk me up for messin' with him, then."
Falco Lombardi, sporting a long, lever-action rifle, stood just inside the doorway. The weapon was trained squarely on Leon's head.
"Sssstay out of this, bird."
"No can do." replied Falco, stepping forward. "See you've got a customer of mine there at gunpoint, and he's fixin' for buying everyone a round at my humble establishment once we run your scaley hide out of town."
"The fox isss a dead man, you know that!"
"I don't recall asking your opinion!" he said, taking another step. "Now judging by those there bullet holes, seems to me that you're not the fanciest shot around here, so I do suggest you take yourself and scoot!"
Falco racked the action, loading a round into the chamber.
"Now go on, get!"
Leon glanced nervously about. The situation was clearly stacked against him. Any action that he chose to take other than compliance would very likely result in a bullet to the skull. He dropped the shotgun to the floor and walked slowly towards the exit, eyes locking with Falco's as he passed.
"I'm going to enjoy plucking the featherssss from your corpse, bird."
"Don't count on it, show your face around here again and I'll be turning that scaly hide of yours into a pair of boots."
With Falco's weapon still trained on him, Leon slunk out the door, disappearing quickly from view. Falco let out a sigh of relief.
"All good there, Mr McCloud?"
"Thanks for the timely rescue." replied Fox, brushing some splinters from his duster. "You still with us, Peppy?"
"Yep. Sure am. Going to take more than that yellow bellied coward to do me in."
"He nearly did have us there." continued Fox. "Seems to me that certain people in this here town are fed up with O'Donnell and his gang of crooks."
Falco looked slightly sheepish at the remark. "I uh...I gotta say, Mr McCloud, I might not have been so hurried in my getting over here if it was Wolf rather than Leon loosing all them shells at you."
"By my guessing, if it was O'Donnell, I don't think we'd be standing here talking about it."
The trio stood in solace for a while, Peppy occasionally bemoaning the loss of merchandise as he picked through the ruins of his ammunition cabinet. Poor aim aside, close range buckshot blasts had a habit of hitting just about everything in front of them.
"Falco." said Fox, turning to face the blue bird. "Why you seein' fit to help me out all of a sudden?"
"Let's just say it's not entirely about you, I've got my own reason for wanting to see the backs of those hoodlums."
"I won't pry, then. You going to be alright, old timer?"
"I'll be a darn sight better once we're rid of them thugs." replied Peppy, a touch of anger in his voice. "I you was to put a bullet in his head I'd not lose a wink of sleep over it."
"I'm sure the legislature would rather I bring him back," said Fox. "but we're a long way from Phoenix. Things do happen out here."
Without further discussion, the bird and the fox walked outside, leaving Peppy to attend to the damage. Leon was nowhere to be seen. Standing directly in front of the shop, mounted on horseback and flanked by his motley posse, however, was Bill Grey.
"Now what did I say not this very morning about causing a ruckus up in my town?" he began, smirking broadly to his compatriots.
"Nice to see you too, Sheriff." spat Falco. "Coming running as soon as the shooting stops."
"Don't recall addressing that comment at you, bird." said Bill. "Unless you think we should be having a chat with you along with your little friend there."
"Sheriff." started Fox. "I was just conducting some business of a personal nature when one of your resident hoodlums saw to open up on us. Don't see how we're to blame."
"All I see is one shot up store, an outlaw fox and a townsfolk rightfully scared."
The posse dismounted their horses, save for Bill Grey, and cautiously approached Fox, paws on weapons.
"Now, I think you should be coming with me, we'll have ourselves a nice little talk at the lockup." said Bill.
Fox waved Falco away as he moved to protest. There was little sense in arguing here. For one reason or another, local law enforcement in Agua Fria appeared to have it in for the vulpine. Not unprecedented, and certainly not something he hadn't experienced before. Nevertheless, it was an inconvenience, one that might allow O'Donnell to give him the slip.
"Well alright, Sheriff, I'll come quietly."
"I thought you might."
The lockup was located at the other end of the town, a walk straight down the main street. Escorted as he was by Bill Grey and his posse, Fox no doubt confirmed the suspicions of those looking on that he was, in fact, an outlaw. The walk itself was relatively short, and apart from a few witticisms from Grey's deputies, undertaken in silence. Arriving a few minutes after the faux-arrest, the posse dismounted and shoved Fox towards the lockup.
"Woah there..."
Any further complaints he may have had were to amount to nothing. As he was shoved through the doorway into the small, dingy sheriff's office, Bill's truncheon connected with the back of his skull. Head spinning and vision blurring, Fox fell forward, landing hard on the wooden floor. Before he could reach for his pistol, a second blow connected, this time a boot kicked viciously into his ribs.
"I told you, but you type are always so stubborn and self-righteous. See to him, boys."
His attempts to defend himself futile. Fox's world went black in a flurry of kicks, punches and jeers.
"Back so soon?"
Leon, for a good few moments, seriously considered letting his final shell off in the big cat's face.
"There were some problemsssss." he replied coldly. "That sssstupid bird, Lombardi decided to get involved."
"A barman and a drifter." said Panther, doing little to hide his sarcasm. "Quite the foes. I'm surprised you made it back alive."
"Shut it, Panther." Came a booming voice from deeper in the mine. "Your words aren't going to make this problem go away."
"My apologies."
Leon walked forward, closing in on the figure of Wolf O'Donnell, sitting leisurely by a small fire. He kept his scaly hands in front of him, as if to fend off a sudden attack.
"Bossss." He began, glancing nervously about the mine. "I...ran into a little issssue with the Fox."
"So I heard." came Wolf's reply, his gaze still fixed on the fire. "Do tell why you're back here without his head."
"Well, it's just that Lombardi decided to get all tangled up in it, and Grey's not being cooperative, thinksssss he's going to make the town hissss own."
Wolf finally stood up, and motioned for Leon to join him. The pair made their way towards a tunnel entrance, one that would take them deeper into the mine. The chameleon followed several paced behind his boss, nervously glancing over his shoulder as the tunnel darkened.
"Remember Pigma?" said Wolf, now holding his own lantern to light the way.
"Yesss, I do."
"I trusted him. He said something similar to what you did just this morning, said he'd go and take care of a problem for me."
"Bossss." protested Leon, coming to a halt. "The fox issssssn't some drifter. He'sss here to do us a world of hurt. We've..."
"YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT!!!" screamed Wolf, grabbing Leon by his jacket collar. "I send you out to do some work and you make me look a right fool!"
Leon wasn't able to resist, Wolf was far stronger. The chameleon was dragged forward several feet to the point where the lupine had been standing. With a mighty heave, Wolf hoisted Leon from the ground and held him out, dangling him over the shaft that marked the end of the tunnel. The ground dropped away into blackness, marking certain death should wolf release him.
"Do you remember what happened to Pigma after he failed?" snarled Wolf. "Are you feeling fit to join him?"
"No, no boss! Please!"
"Please what?" He continued. "You best convince me in the next ten seconds or we'll be finding out just how deep this here hole is!"
"Alright, alright, look." stammered Leon, eyes wide in panic. "Grey beat up the fox real good, sssaw it myself I did. He's not fit for fighting no more, we jussst gotta head on in and finish it off. He's already caused big enough a fusssss in town, folks won't be thinkin' it out of place if you were to show up."
Wolf released his grip.
As it turned out, the shaft of the old Sargasso mine was some two hundred feet deep. After a good four seconds of blood curdling screaming, Leon's body hit the ground with the sickening crack of shattering bones. Spitting down upon the now former member of his gang, Wolf turned around and came face to face with Panther.
"Working for you is getting dangerous." the big cat spoke. "Perhaps I should ask for a pay rise."
"What did I tell you about that there mouth of yours." Shot Wolf, his eyes full of anger. "Load up the maxim, we're paying the fox a visit in the morning."
"Why wait?" asked Panther. "It's dark, people will be sleeping. Easy to get in and out, nice and quiet."
"We're not doing it nice and quiet. We're doing it loud."
"If that's how you want to play this."
"It is."
"Anything else, boss?"
Falco placed a tray of dirty mugs on the countertop. The day had been long, and with the threat of some manner of retaliation from the O'Donnell gang, his mood had suffered greatly.
"No, that should be it, Krystal, scoot on home." he replied, wiping his brow with his wing.
Depositing her apron on the bartop, Krystal made for the door.
"Wait." called Falco. "Just, see if you can't be a good girl and stop by the lockup, see what Grey's gone and done with my customer."
Krystal's ears perked up. "Sure thing!"
It was well and truly past dusk when Krystal walked out of the Lone Falcon. The street was near deserted, with only a few drunkards and vagrants picking their way about. Despite the temperatures reached during the day, there was a distinctive chill in the nighttime air, frosting her breath. Bundling her coat about her torso, she struck out. The vixen made it some three steps before a meek whimper caught her attention.
"Hello...uh, sir...oh my lord, Fox!"
Fox McCloud, battered, bruised and barely conscious, had been unceremoniously dumped in the water trough outside the saloon. His arms and head hung limply over the lip of the trough, with the remainder of his body submerged in the fetid water.
"...who's...who's that?" he gasped, voice barely audible.
Krystal rushed over, plunging her pawss into the cold water and hauling Fox out. He was limp in her arms, eyes unfocused and jaw hanging slack. Kneeling down in the dirt and cradling his head, she spoke softly.
"Who did this to you?"
Fox coughed up a bit of water, wincing at what could well be a broken rib or two, before responding.
"Grey...Bill Grey and his goons." he said. "Right roughed me up..."
"That I can see." replied Krystal. "How you end up in the sheriff's sights, anyway?"
"Don't... really matter, just get...just get me up to my room, I'm fit for resting."
Krystal helped Fox to his feet. His legs were weak, and he was barely able to make it up the few steps to the saloon door. Pushing inside, they made their way across the barroom floor.
"Jeez, Krystal, I told you to check on him, not bring his corpse in here!"
"I'm alive, Falco...barely."
Krystal deposited Fox into a chair, propping his head up against the wall.
"He's hurt real bad, boss." she said, concern evident in her voice. "Got your medical box?"
Falco shook his head. "Not here. Might have a few bandages. Take Mr McCloud up to his room and draw him a bath, he reeks of something foul."
Again picking him up, Krystal threw Fox's arm around her shoulder and the pair made their way up the rickety staircase to the saloon's upper level, the vulpine grimacing in pain with every step. Courtesy of Fox's injuries and the vixen's diminutive stature, the journey, a mere fifty feet, took them some five minutes. Arriving in Fox's room, Krystal deposited him gently onto the bed.
"Boiler's still running." she said. "I'll up and fetch you some warm water."
Fox simply lay on the bed, motionless, as Krystal darted from the room, running hurriedly down the stairs. For what seemed like hours he waited, gazing up at the ceiling. The still-burning stumps of candles littered the room, casting a soft, flickering glow across the walls. Earlier, he had heard Falco talking about the possibility of Agua Fria receiving electric power in the near future. For the time, however, Fox was content to resort to candles and fireplaces. Electric telegraphs were one thing, but having electricity pumped directly into homes and business? It just seemed off.
Over the next ten minutes, Krystal made several trips, emptying pails of steaming water into the cast iron bathtub present in the room.
"Here you are, handsome." she said, emptying her last bucket of water into the tub. "A good soak and you'll be right as rain."
Fox sat up from the bed. His clothing was still soaked, as too were the bedsheets. Standing up, he paced his way slowly towards the tub, limping with every step.
"Woah there!" said Krystal, moving over and placing her paw on Fox's chest. "Can't have you getting in the tub all dressed up. Let me help you out of those."
Despite the pain and injuries, Fox blushed. Krystal's paws roamed over his body, dropping his duster to the floor before working at the buttons on his shirt. His fur did little to cover the extensive bruising on his torso. Purple splotches were easily visible, marking a good portion of his left side, as well as about his shoulders and neck. A few specks of dried blood stuck to his fur, the dark red of the streaks combining with the bruises and dirt to give a haggard, beaten appearance.
"Uh...ma'am...you don't..."
"Call me Krystal."
"S...sure, Krystal." he stammered. "I'm...I'm not sure you should be here while I'm bathing, wouldn't be proper to have a lady present.
Krystal leaned forward, speaking huskily into his ear. "I don't mind."
Her paws moved from his shirt buttons his his belt buckle, unclasping it and allowing his worn and dusty trousers to drop to the floor.
"Well, seems that everything is working just fine down here..." she said, a hint of mischief in her voice.
For Fox, the pain had almost disappeared. His heart pounded in his chest, thumping heavily against his ribs, and his breaths came in short and sharp. He could smell her, a rich, intoxicating scent, the scent of something he hadn't had in a long time.
He reached out with his paw.
"Come on, Fox." said Krystal, taking it without hesitation.
"Uh..."
"The tub, hop in, I'll scrub you down."
Feeling slightly foolish, Fox eased himself into the warm, balmy water. Within seconds, the aches and pains suffered at the paws of Bill Grey melted away. He hadn't bathed in a week, and it felt good to recline in the deep, heavyset tub. Krystal's paws worked gently at his scalp and back, massaging out the dirt and the soreness, sending him into a blissful state of relaxation. For the next twenty minutes, he sat in silence, eyes closed, simply enjoying the attention and company. Thoughts of how to handle O'Donnell left him completely, he needed only concern himself with the present.
And with Krystal.
"You just sit there and soak for a while." she said, standing up and making for the door. "I'll be back in a moment with a towel for you."
Fox stretched out, pushing his arms up and behind his head. He was still sore, and his ribs would more than likely need attending to, but he was otherwise content.
"Perhaps this town isn't so bad..."
His relaxed demeanour left him in a heartbeat at the sight of Krystal re-entering the room.
Wearing nothing but a white towel.
Speechless, he watched the blue vixen pace slowly towards the tub, swaying her hips as she walked. Before he could open his mouth to comment, the towel dropped, folding itself on the floor at her feet.
"Krystal..."
Placing one leg over the lip of the tub, she climbed in, lazily and calm, deliberately giving Fox a long eyeful of her shapely rear.
"Uh, Krystal." Said Fox, his heartbeat heightening once again. "What..."
Krystal leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Fox's neck.
"You don't look so beat up to me." she breathed. "If you're still itching to take down O'Donnell, might as well have yourself some fun before the shooting starts."
"I'm...what about the other guests. Falco won't be appreciating a ruckus up here."
"What other guests?"
"Fair point."
"Besides." she continued, pressing herself closer. "You might be dead by this time tomorrow. I'd like to get to know you before then, even if just a little."
"Well." replied Fox, abandoning his composure and returning the embrace. "My father did always say I should be trusting in my instincts."
Any further conversation was cut out by the two vulpine's mouths locking with each other.
No, Agua Fria wasn't such a bad town after all.