A/N Just in time for Gunsmoke's 60th anniversary, a Matt and Kitty story that takes place early in season 1. I don't own these characters. I did, however, completely fabricate the events in this story.

The Bed

Matt gazed longingly at Kitty, stretched out naked before him. With a welcoming smile, she held her hand out to him and he lowered himself onto the bed next to her. He reached for her, eager to partake in the pleasure that awaited them both. He looked tenderly into her beautiful blue eyes, hoping to convey everything he had so far been unable to put into words. The frantic shouts of his assistant in the background suddenly intruded into the long-awaited moment of intimacy. "Mister Dillon! Mister Dillon!" The jailhouse door was flung open and Matt bolted upright, looking around, disoriented. He was not in Kitty's room at the Long Branch. He was lying on his cot in the jail, having attempted a nap before another night of keeping the peace began. He blinked, trying to wake enough to understand the words that were coming from Chester's mouth.

"It's Speck Trainor, Mister Dillon. He's back in Dodge. He told Moss Grimmick down to the stable that he was headed fer the Long Branch."

Matt heaved himself off the cot with a groan. He reached for his gun belt, surreptitiously checking the front of his trousers to be sure, after the dream that had just been interrupted, that it was safe for him to go out in public. It was, but just barely. He raked his fingers through his hair, frustrated that it was the presence of gunmen like Speck Trainor and his kind in the world that ensured he would never be able to do anything more than dream about Kitty.

A look over the top of the Long Branch doors revealed neither Trainor nor the pretty redhead who so often drew Matt to the saloon. He pushed through the doors and made his way inside. "Evening, Marshal," Sam greeted him from behind the bar. "Can I get you a beer?"

"Maybe later," he said absently, continuing to search the room, still not finding the two people he sought.

"Miss Kitty's working right now." Sam avoided his gaze when answering the unasked question. Matt forced himself to remain expressionless when receiving this news. It meant she was upstairs, entertaining. If it had been all right for him to go up, Sam would have just said she was in her room. His glance around the barroom had shown all the other girls to be accounted for, so if Speck Trainor was there, that must mean he was-Matt groaned inwardly at the thought of what Kitty's job required, and who she might be with. He was about to ask Sam if he'd seen Trainor that night when one of the other girls sidled up to him.

"Evening, Marshal," Olive said boldly, cozying up next to him like she did whenever Kitty wasn't around, and running a large square hand, fingers bitten to the quick, up and down his arm. He had never particularly liked her, but she'd barely paid him any notice until he and Kitty had become friends. Now she played up to him every chance she got, despite his obvious lack of interest in her. "How about a drink?"

"No thanks, I've got work to do," he said as politely as he could, stepping back from her in what he hoped was a casual manner. He was again about to ask Sam about Trainor when two loud crashes, each followed by a startled scream, came from the room at the top of the stairs. Kitty's room.

Lightly pushing an indignant Olive out of his way, Matt bolted toward the stairs. He took them two and three at a time, drawing his gun on the way. When he reached Kitty's door he didn't waste time checking to see if it was locked.

At the same time Matt was standing at the bar with Sam and Olive, Kitty was in bed next to a very young, very nervous cowboy, trying to get the kid to relax enough so he could get something approaching his money's worth for their time together. Johnny Watson was no more than eighteen, on his first cattle drive. If it wasn't his first time for something else, Kitty thought, she'd eat her beautiful, brand new, much too expensive hat that had just arrived and she hadn't even had a chance to wear yet. On second thought, hedging her bets, it might have been his second or third time. She was never gonna know for sure anyway, and since she was betting against herself and no one was going to hold her to it, her hat was safe. Johnny was a nice boy, clean, polite, and reasonably good looking. He had been a welcome change of pace from the brutes she usually had to do business with, which was why she agreed although she hadn't planned on taking anyone upstairs tonight. If his behavior since they'd gotten to her room was any indication, though, she wondered how he'd even gotten the nerve to ask if he could spend time with her. He couldn't seem to figure out what he should do, or wanted to do, first, and Kitty was resigned to the fact that she was going to have to take matters in hand (groaning silently at the bad pun she had just made) when disaster struck. Johnny, evidently deciding that a kiss was a good place to start, reached across her waist with one hand to pull her closer, while putting all his weight on the other elbow as he leaned toward her. Suddenly the frame of the bed detached itself from the headboard and fell to the floor with a tremendous bang, sending Kitty tumbling off her side of the bed, where she landed on her derriere with a shriek. Johnny, meanwhile, had jumped backwards off the other side of the bed in order to avoid the headboard that was heading straight for him. The weight of the headboard in turn separated the other end of the frame from the footboard, and the rest of the bed dropped to the floor loudly, causing Kitty to scream once more.

"Damn!" she exclaimed as soon as she had her wits about her. "I told Bill last week that bed was about to fall apart and he never did anything about it!"

Johnny stared at Kitty, dumbfounded. Kitty covered her mouth with both hands to stop the attack of giggles she felt coming on at the sight of the boy standing there with his pants around his ankles, not to mention what she imagined she must look like sprawled out on the floor in her own undergarments. She had barely managed to get herself under control when her door flew open with a crash and a deep voice ordered "Hold it!" It was impossible to tell which of the three was the most stunned as the big lawman took in the sight of the young cowboy standing in his long underwear, and the redheaded object of his desire on the floor, wearing nothing but a lacy corset, red satin pantalets, and stockings. Kitty recovered first.

"Matt!" she gasped. "What's the idea busting in my room like that? The door was unlocked, you know!"

Of course he didn't know. He hadn't checked, in his haste to rescue Kitty from-a broken bed? A moment later he was both relieved and further embarrassed when he finally realized the man in the room with Kitty was not Speck Trainor.

"Everything all right, Marshal?" Sam stood behind him in the doorway, and they heard the footsteps of several more people following him up the stairs.

"It's under control," Matt answered tersely. "Move along, everyone, nothing to see here." He'd spoken those words dozens of times in his life, and they had never before been less true. He pushed the door closed behind him and crossed the room to Kitty, gently grasping her arms to help her up. "You all right, Kitty?" he asked, still regarding the young cowboy with some suspicion.

"A couple bruises, maybe," she said, rubbing a sore spot on her backside, "but I think I'll recover. Listen, mister," she said to Johnny apologetically, "you better take your money back and find yourself a girl someplace else tonight. I'm sorry about the bed...and the marshal." She shot a pointed look Matt's way.

"Yeah," Matt growled. "Go, on, you heard the lady. Move!" The cowboy nodded silently, too intimidated by Matt and embarrassed by the whole situation to speak. He hastily buttoned his pants and, grabbing his money, his gun belt, and the rest of his wardrobe, he skittered out the door without a word.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?" Kitty glared at him, resting one hand on her hip, gesturing toward her broken door. Matt looked at the floor, face reddening over both his overreaction and his growing awareness of Kitty's dishabille.

"Kitty, could you, uh…." He couldn't quite bring himself to ask her to cover up, but she understood, suddenly realizing herself that, although she had no more skin showing than she did while wearing one of her saloon dresses, the man she'd been falling in love with for months was seeing more of her shape than he ever had before.

"Sure." Tactfully pretending not to notice that her state of undress was having an effect on a particular part of his anatomy, she crossed the room to pick up her robe from the floor, where it had fallen from its hook when Matt kicked the door open. Conscious of him watching her every move, she threw the robe over her shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves. Purposely leaving it open so Matt could still get a good view of her figure, she walked back to him, looking up at him expectantly for the answer to her question.

Predictably, the ruffled pink robe did absolutely nothing to conceal her body or to ease Matt's discomfort over the situation, and he continued to look away from her slightly. "Kitty, I'm sorry about the door. I heard Speck Trainor was at the Long Branch and then when I got here and didn't see him, I-"

"You thought he was up here with me, and when I screamed, you jumped to conclusions," Kitty interrupted.

Looking at the floor again, Matt nodded sheepishly.

"I'm surprised at you, Matt. I wouldn't give Trainor the time of day, much less…." She jerked her head toward the bed. "He was downstairs earlier, had one drink, and left without saying anything to anyone. What's he doing back in town, anyway? I thought you threw him out last week."

"I don't know, Kitty, but I aim to find out."

"You sure that's a good idea? Going out like that?" Kitty crossed her arms at her waist and looked him up and down appraisingly. Matt's face turned an even deeper shade of red when he realized what she was talking about. "Of course, I could probably help, um, relieve that condition for you. On the house, of course." She made an exaggerated glance toward the bed. "Oh, I guess I can't. I haven't got a bed. Or a door." She glared at him, wondering how she could still be enamored with this man when she was so infuriated with him. She stalked over to the window and looked out. "I told Bill that bed need fixing but he never got around to it. Now I guess that and the door are both gonna come out of my pay."

"Kitty, I told you I was sorry about the door-wait a minute. Why should you have to pay for them?" Kitty shrugged, shaking her head silently. Matt approached her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "All right, look. I'll explain to Bill about the door. That was all my fault."

Kitty nodded. "Sure." She was beginning to feel embarrassed about the whole situation, and regretted her outburst and subsequent proposition of Matt, even more so since it was made in anger. Why wouldn't he just go away, so she could get dressed and get back to work?

"I'll see you later, Kitty." He gave her shoulders a little squeeze and let himself out her door, pulling it behind him against the frame since it wouldn't really close.

Kitty stared out the window a while longer, wondering whether it was about time to give up on the idea of she and Matt being any more than friends. In the nearly one year she'd been in Dodge, they had become quite close. Kitty had felt instantly drawn to the tall, reserved marshal the first time she had seen him eating breakfast at Delmonico's. She had just been passing through town, determined to get as far away from her past as her money would take her, but one look at the biggest, handsomest man she had ever seen had made her feel that Dodge City, in spite of its depressing atmosphere, just might be worth staying in after all. It had taken Matt a little longer to take notice of her, but gradually the occasional beer he bought her became a daily, sometimes twice-daily occurrence. He began making the Long Branch his last stop for the night before going back to the jail or his room, to share one more drink with her while she helped Sam close up. When they started seeing each other away from the Long Branch, often sharing meals either alone or with Doc and Chester, it seemed as though they were heading into something that was more than friendship. It was on the day they went fishing together that things took a turn, but not in the way she'd hoped. As much as she enjoyed fishing, to her surprise and, somewhat to her annoyance, Matt actually intended to fish. She had been pleased when he'd finally stolen a kiss from her, only to feel let down a moment afterward when he apologized profusely for leading her on. As gently as he could, he explained that as much as he wanted to, it wouldn't be right to ask her to be his girl when he couldn't offer her a future. She'd taken it personally and had been politely cool to him for months afterward. They had just begun easing back into their previous friendship when Dan Grat had come to town and gunned him down right in front of her, leading her to realize two things. First, that she was hopelessly in love with him, and second, that as long as there were men like Grat in the world that Matt felt a duty to deal with, he would never really be hers, no matter how many kisses she allowed him to steal.

Ignoring the snickering and hushed whispers as he descended the stairs, Matt accosted Bill Pence just as he was returning from his supper and they went into the office to talk. Feet spread apart, thumbs hooked in his gun belt, he fixed Bill with a steely gaze as he related the recent events, taking the blame for the door and ending with Kitty's concern that she would be held responsible for the damage as well as the broken bed.

"No, Marshal," Bill responded somewhat nervously. "I promise you, there won't be any trouble for Kitty over it."

"Well, good, there better not be," Matt said in a low tone just this side of threatening as he turned and left the office without saying goodbye or closing the door behind him. Nodding at Sam, he left the Long Branch and got to the general store just as Jonas was locking the doors. The storekeeper was none too happy about opening back up for him, as he was already closing later than usual, but when Matt explained what he needed, he reluctantly let him in.

On his way back to the jail, purchases in hand, Chester caught up with him. "Mister Dillon, I been lookin' all over fer you. That Trainor is over to the Alafraganza a-drinkin' hisself silly if you wanta see what he's doin' back in town."

Matt sighed. "Thanks, Chester." Speck Trainor had been the least of his concerns for the last half hour or so, but since the man was to some extent responsible for the damage to Kitty's door, in Matt's opinion, he'd better go see whether he had learned how to behave himself in the last week. "Take this back to the office for me, will ya?" He thrust the paper-wrapped parcel into Chester's hands and took off down the street.

The stocky, dark-haired gunfighter was halfway through a bottle of cheap whiskey but otherwise minding his own business when Matt came to stand next to him at the bar.

"Trainor."

"Marshal."

"I told you to get out of town last week."

"I did."

"All right," Matt said with exaggerated patience. "I should have been more specific. You have some business in Dodge this time?"

Trainor shrugged. "Just passin' through. I ain't touched none a these gals, or any over to the Long Branch, neither."

"Joe?" Matt questioned the man behind the bar.

"He hasn't bothered anyone in here, Marshal," the lanky young barkeep confirmed.

"All right, Trainor," Matt repeated. "I don't want your kind here in Dodge. Finish your drinkin' and then move on. And this time I mean for good, or you're going to jail."

In answer to this, Trainor reached over and picked up the bottle of whiskey, refilling his glass. He raised the glass toward Matt as though he were making an obscene gesture. "One for the road," he said, pulling his hat lower on his forehead and taking a sip. The gunman felt Matt's stare pierce through him but refused to acknowledge it. Matt gazed around the half-empty barroom as if to signal the rest of its occupants to avoid Trainor, then turned on his heel and stalked out.

Matt kept busy the rest of the evening breaking up fights, starting with the Lady Gay and eventually making his way around to every saloon in town except for the Long Branch. When he had to return to the Alafraganza for his last stop, Trainor was nowhere to be seen, nor had there been any sign of him elsewhere. When the last troublemaker had been locked up, he stepped outside the jail for a moment and looked longingly in the direction of the Long Branch, chagrined to see the downstairs was dark. A look at the upper floor showed not only Kitty's but several other rooms still lit up. He muttered a curse, for he'd meant to get back earlier to have a talk with Kitty. Not much chance of doing that privately with all the other girls upstairs for the night. If Kitty was still mad at him things might get a bit loud. It would have to wait until tomorrow. He hesitated for a moment and then walked over, anyway. Even though Chester had made the rounds while he was dealing with fights, he checked every outside door, front and back; to be sure it was locked, and even went up the back stairs to check that door. With Kitty unable to lock the door to her room, he felt the need to personally ensure the building was secure from the outside.

Kitty had returned to work, head high, maintaining her dignity as best she could. Sam had asked if she was all right and Bill called her into his office to apologize for not fixing the bed earlier, promising to take care of it as soon as he could. Olive and a couple other girls threw smirks her direction, but otherwise no one mentioned the mishap that took place earlier. Kitty strictly worked the downstairs like she'd originally planned. It was a busy night for all of them, and Bill helped her and Sam close up, saying he'd come back early the next morning to do the books. When Kitty locked up behind them, out of sorts because Matt hadn't come by at closing, she headed up the stairs, suddenly realizing it had been so busy that neither Bill nor Sam had gotten a chance to fix her door. She walked into her room and noticed, much to her displeasure, that everyone, herself included, had forgotten her bed, as well. Stubbornly refusing to give any of the other girls the satisfaction of being further amused by her predicament, she pulled and tugged at the headboard by herself until she freed it from the rest of the bed, leaving it flat on the floor so it wouldn't fall on her during the night. She took a straight-backed wooden chair and propped it under the doorknob, hoping it would hold against any potential intruders. That task finished, she got ready for bed and although she wasn't happy about it, she dropped into the mattress, remembering a few times in the past she didn't even have that to sleep on. Her last thought before dropping off to sleep was that she needed to apologize to Matt for losing her temper with him earlier.

What seemed like just minutes later, Kitty was awakened by a soft but persistent knocking at her door. "Come back later," she muttered, already going back to sleep as she burrowed her head under the pillow. The knocking resumed. "Go away!" she whined, a little louder, throwing the pillow in the general direction of the door.

"Kitty, can I come in?" The familiar low, rumbling voice worked its way into her consciousness and she forced herself up from the mattress and over to the door. She struggled with the chair under the doorknob until she finally managed to pull it away and the door swung open.

"Matt?" She looked up at him, blinking in confusion. "What are you doing here this early?"

"Early? It's after eight!"

Eight o'clock in the morning? It might as well be the middle of the night! She continued to look at him in bewilderment.

"Can I come in?" he repeated. "I brought you something."

"Brought me something?" Her faint smile broadened into a grin when he held up the jailhouse toolbox in one hand and a small package wrapped in brown paper in another. "Is that what I think it is?" She pulled on her robe.

"Depends on what you think it is." He handed her the package to unwrap while he looked over the damage to the door. Luckily the wood was only pulled away from the door frame and not broken. Kitty sat on the chair near the door and leaned back, crossing her legs, watching Matt as he made the necessary repairs to the doorway. Kitty wasn't the only person to consider the hour unreasonably early. As soon as Matt started swinging the hammer, a chorus of female voices in various states of wakefulness began to protest "quiet down!" "who's making that racket?" "shut up and let a girl get some sleep!" as well as a few more colorful and less ladylike phrases. They both ignored them; Matt concentrating on the task at hand and Kitty trying to stay awake enough to watch. They shared a companionable silence while Matt replaced the broken lock, punctuated by the occasional loudly voiced complaint from one of the girls whenever they thought he was making too much noise.

"There!" he said finally, closing and opening the door a few times to make sure it latched properly. He held out the new keys. "Better make sure they work."

"All right." Kitty took the keys, smiling up at him as she stood. She tried them both, on each side of the door. "Seems okay to me. Thanks, Matt. Half my problem's solved, anyway."

"Let's see about the other half," Matt said, crossing the room to the bed. Kitty stood near the door watching as he examined the frame and headboard. "Sorry, Kitty, I think it's had it. The wood's split in a couple of places. I could try putting it back together but I don't think it'd be safe."

"That's all right, Matt. Thanks for looking at it, anyway. Bill said he knows where he can get another one, practically new," she said, not moving from the doorway.

Neither of them was sure how it happened or who made the first move, but suddenly they were standing together in the middle of the room, both pairs of arms reaching for the other. Matt looked up from the broken bed, for the first time noticing the way the thin fabric of her nightgown clung to Kitty's slender yet full curves. Momentarily forgetting his resolve not to exceed the boundaries of friendship, he moved toward her just as she realized his purpose for being in her room had come to an end and she wasn't ready for him to leave. Matt's arms were already around her, but when Kitty wrapped hers around his neck, he pulled her up and held her securely against his chest. Their lips met and they kissed frantically, the kiss consuming yet fulfilling them both.

Matt groaned softly and lowered her feet back to the floor. He grasped her by the shoulders and pushed her away gently. Why hadn't he just turned and walked out of her room? Out of her life? "Kitty, I never meant for any of this to….I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

"Damn it, Kitty, this isn't fair to you."

"Why don't you let me be the one to decide what I think is fair?" She reached up and gently traced his lips with one fingertip and he felt his resolve weaken once more. In another minute he would-

A drunken, belligerent voice pierced the morning calm. "DILLON!"

Matt sighed audibly, giving Kitty a look full of meaning. This was exactly what he'd been talking about. He bent his head and kissed her on the forehead. "I have to go take care of this." This was the moment where any other girl would dissolve into tears and beg him not to go. But Kitty wasn't any other girl. She gave him a silent look. Be careful, Matt. And something else he couldn't quite read that might have been Make sure you come back. "Stay here." He settled his hat on his head and turned and walked out of her room, reaching for the gun at his side as if to make sure it was there. Kitty heard him let himself out the door to the outside stairs and after a moment, stepped into her slippers and followed.

From her vantage point in the alley, Kitty stayed just out of sight and peered around the corner of the Long Branch. She watched and listened to Matt try to talk Trainor down from the confrontation he was determined to have. In another minute it was all over, and Matt stood looking down at the gunman, shaking his head in disgust. He bent over the man briefly and then stood back up. Kitty heard him tell a couple of bystanders to take Trainor to the undertaker and then he turned on his heel and strode away as she looked on sadly. She knew it sickened him to have to take any man's life. He often had to go off by himself for a while to deal with it, but she suddenly felt the need to take some of the burden away from him.

As Matt passed by the alley next to the Long Branch, he was tempted to keep walking when he heard the quiet voice say his name, but he turned to look at Kitty standing there.

"I told you to stay upstairs," he scolded her gently, knowing as he did so that he was wasting his breath. This was a girl who wasn't going to be told what to do.

"You all right?" she asked him as she wrapped her arms around him. She rubbed her hands up and down his back and he could feel some of the feeling of sickness and evil and stupidity drain away, but the entrance of the alley was too public a place for this type of intimacy.

"Yeah," he growled, taking her by the arm. "Come on." He led her further back, under the stairs, away from the general view, although they could still be seen if anyone cared to look. The drunks sleeping it off out back, for instance. Or Doc, on his way out to make some calls, had a clear view from his upstairs landing until he decided he needed to add a few more supplies to his bag and let himself back into his office.

The two of them stood for a long moment, just holding each other. Finally Matt pulled back slightly. He cupped Kitty's cheek and leaned in for one soft, slow kiss. "You sure you want to get yourself into this?"

"I'll take my chances."

"You know how it has to be."

"I'm learnin'."

He took the time for one more kiss before he had to go finish up the business with Trainor. She returned the kiss with eager, yet restrained passion. Matt broke away reluctantly. He glanced meaningfully toward the upstairs of the building. "See ya later, Kitty," he said, stroking her arm as he turned away from her.

As he walked through the alley toward the street he heard her say from the stairs, "You'd better."

END