Discliamer: We do not in anyway own these characters nor the movie Tombstone and are making no profit with this story

No Clue

She thought Wyatt Earp was all the man a woman like her could ever want, but that was before he came striding into her life

The after-party -as it was later called- was held at the Oriental. The saloon was full to busting with Cowboys and townspeople drunk beyond belief. She briefly wrapped her arms around herself as she inhaled the smoke-filled air before stepping gracefully into view. The crowd went wild at the sight of her. Almost immediately, she spotted Wyatt. He was standing next to two men; one who looked to be his brother and another whose very person radiated Southern gentleman. She smiled charmingly when a drunken well-dressed man offered her his arm in a dance that sent her directly towards her prey. Having been released by her second dance partner, she came to a stop in front of Wyatt, holding her arms out in coy invitation. But Wyatt didn't take the bait; instead he turned away then walked back to his table with his two now smirking companions while she was kept company by Sheriff Behan. With half an ear, she listened to Behan's attempts to seduce her, all the while watching Wyatt like a hawk.

He strode up to Wyatt's table with two men: one in a loud red shirt and the other so disgusting she doubted he was totally human. Perhaps she couldn't take her eyes off him because of the sheer contrast he presented next to his two companions. The scarlet-shirted one, while gifted with an easy smile, seemed to have something intrinsically evil about him, and the dirty one had the vicious brutality of someone with little to no intelligence. He, though dirtier than most men she'd been around, was cleaner somehow than the others, and she could see the flame of intelligence burning brightly in his eyes even from across the room.

"Who is that?" Behan's incessant seductive chatter halted and a slight frown graced his features as he realized she wasn't hanging on his every word. His frown deepened to a light scowl once he squinted in the direction she was looking.

"Oh. That's Wyatt Earp-"

"No, not him...the other man; the one flourishing the gun..." She hadn't thought it possible but Behan's scowl became even fiercer.

"That's Johnny Ringo. You want to stay away from him: he's one of those Cowboys, not to mention one of the fastest gunslingers this side of the Mississippi."

She nodded absentmindedly not really taking in a word Behan said after he spoke the man's name. 'Johnny Ringo...' There was a burst of laughter and she was surprised to see the man in the red (whom she later learned was called Curly Bill) walking straight for her and Behan's table with Ringo.

"Sheriff." Curly Bill said with laughter coloring his voice. Ringo passed not two inches in front of her as Curly Bill said his greeting. Though impossible, time seemed to slow and his eyes - a peculiar shade of blue-green under the shadow of his hat- roamed quickly over her body. She felt her entire being flush with embarrassment under his gaze before he and his companions were gone out the door.

Suddenly the air was suffocating. She stood hastily.

"I-I need some fresh air."

"Allow me to-"

"NO! No…I want to be alone."

"...If you insist."

She wasn't thinking clearly or else she wouldn't have left.

It seemed amazing that all he had to do was look at her -even with the kind of look a man might give when choosing cattle- and she could feel all sorts of rampant emotions piercing her soul. Her bodice had grown tight in the passing minutes and she slipped loose the top button to allow her some cool air. The rough wood of the building pressed up against her back and it felt real and tangible beneath her fingertips.

The heavy oppressing heat of Tombstone weighed her down, even with the setting of the sun. A sudden scuffling in the dimness around her made her jump like a frightened rabbit and she pressed herself even closer to the wall behind her, in hopes of not being seen.

A blur flashed across her vision and the man she had been ogling earlier showed through the dark and by the dimness of the moon, she could make out the fierce snarl on the his face. A similar expression on a different man stood a few feet from him, blood dripping from a cut on his lip.

She had never seen such violence in her life, and it terrified her that someone who'd seemed so calm, even as he twirled his deadly weapon around, could be provoked to such violent behavior. She whimpered as Ringo dropped his opponent with a punch and quickly wished she hadn't as his head whipped around in her direction and his eyes narrowed. He slowly approached her position in a way that reminded her eerily of a hunter stalking its prey, but she couldn't move for fear of what her obvious fear would make him do.

She imagined she could smell the drunk on him from two feet away, but she would rather have had him breathe his nasty drunk on her than quietly stand there looking at her with those peculiar eyes of his.

"You're that devil-lady…the one from the theatre." For some strange reason this pleased her more than it should have. She decided to humor whatever feeling inside her that made her like him so if only for the sake of conversation.

"Yes that was me. My name's Josephine…I'm an actress." He grunted slightly and took a few steps in her direction. Up close he didn't look very drunk at all, and he didn't smell like most drunks either.

"An actress…a pretty actress. I'm Johnny." She smiled at the compliment even as it sent shivers down her spine.

"Well Johnny, you're not as drunk as you'd like me to believe are you? If I remember correctly you left the saloon more sober than I am, and I don't think you can get drunk quite that fast." She saw his aquamarine eyes widen slightly before an amused smirk crossed his features.

"Well, you do catch on quick, I'll give you that much." His booted footsteps thudded against the packed dirt, still making their way closer and closer to her. Her palms itched and her forehead felt clammy but she remained rooted to her spot, the violent fight she had just witnessed scaring her immobile.

She saw his eyes travel down her neckline and she followed them, a blush swamping her face when she realized she still had her bodice slightly undone and she was giving him an eyeful of cleavage than necessary.

"You know, only whores walk around dressed like that," he commented offhandedly, his eyes once again appraising her body. And once more, she felt the warming heat gather in her abdomen but this time there was no place she could escape to. She was stuck here, trapped between the wall behind her and his arrogant gaze.

"Well I'm not a whore, sir." Johnny grinned at her haughty tone.

"And I'm not a 'sir', Miss Josephine. I told you my name is Johnny, so please call me by it." His eyes had apparently decided they liked her breasts the best because they had locked onto them, and he had yet to look her in the eyes. She was quickly tiring of his arrogant behavior, not to mention she didn't think she could stand talking to him another minute without giving in to the temptation kissing him had become.

"Please, Mr. Ringo, stop staring at my breasts. My face is a little farther north."

She was taken aback when, instead of becoming angry as most men would when caught staring, he openly laughed at her boldness. His eyes twinkled mischievously at her before stepping forward, closing the space between their bodies.

A calloused hand came between the two and caressed the top button of her bodice in a playful manner. Heat flooded Josie's face and she tried to side-step him but was stopped when his other hand slammed onto the wall next to her, effectively trapping her in place. She gazed up underneath her lashes at him and was not surprised to see a coy smile etched onto his features.

"So Miss Josie, you said you were an actress, right?" he drawled in his heavy Texan accent, all the while running a finger down the line of buttons on her top. His teasing motions were causing her heart to accelerate and Josie was pretty sure he could hear her pulse throbbing in her temples. From this close proximity, the urge to kiss him was running wild within her and she knew that if she could only work up the courage to stand up on her tiptoes and lean forward, he would do the rest.

"Yes I did. What about it?" Impossibly, his coy smile widened and he leaned so close to her their lips were almost touching, and her heart was beating so fast she was surprised it didn't beat right out of her chest. His lips barely brushed up against hers and still she was struggling to hold in an excited moan. She could feel his smile against her cheek as he slowly made his way to her ear.

"Why don't you show me what you can do, hmm?" His thick accent whispered in her ear and sent shivers of arousal down her spine. As quick as he'd approached her, he'd leaned back and was now regarding her with an amused glint burning brightly in his eyes.

She knew what he wanted but was determined to send him on his way without it and properly chastised because, no matter what he seemed to think, she was still a lady and deserved the respect of a filthy Texan like him. Smirking she leaned close to him and managed to control her hypersensitive body enough to lightly trail her fingers down his chest.

"You'd have to come to my room to see anything special, Johnny." She purred his name and was satisfied in a feral way to see his pupils dilate. He quickly released her and offered her his arm in a mocking way.

"After you, milady."

She casually looped her arm through his and led him to the quiet part of town, where the bright lights of the hotel shone like a beacon to the two of them.

Each step that brought them nearer gave Josephine one more second to rethink what she was doing. This was so unlike her! She had never offered to take a man up to her room; it always seemed like something the tramps of the town would do.

But even if she wanted to run away, she couldn't. Not with the heavy thud of boots walking next to her and the substantial weight on her arm. The hotel was quiet upon entering, as most of the occupants were still at the Oriental drinking their cares away. Quietly, she led them up the stairs to her room, grateful for the dark of the stairwell to hide the rosy blush on her cheeks.

Swallowing her nerves down, she smiled at him and opened the door. Luckily someone (probably room service) had been in and lit a few of the candles so the room wasn't completely dark.

Ringo shut the door with a quiet click that seemed to seal her fate, and she cursed herself for not realizing he would get what he wanted one way or the other. A startled squeak escaped her when she felt a pair of steely arms wrap around her waist, and her cheeks flamed when she felt his entire front pressed up against her.

"So show me your tricks, Miz Actress" His voice was husky and deep, and she almost melted against him. Before she knew it, she was sitting upright on the ottoman near the bed and his body was leaning over hers and his mouth was on hers and she couldn't think of anything else even if she wanted to. His evening shadow scratched against the soft skin of her cheeks reminding her of the sheer masculinity of the man above her.

His hand found its way between their bodies and traced the seams of her bodice in a teasing gesture that made her mouth part in a quiet moan. His tongue played at the soft skin of her lips and she opened her mouth wider to accept. He traced the edges of her teeth, encouraging her to kiss him back.

And when she finally did, a grunt of approval emerged from his chest and the hand at her chest suddenly encompassed the mound of her breast in a possessive gesture

She hadn't even felt him remove her dress strings, and she didn't much care when he was touching her and kissing her the way he was. His fingers were such a contrast to her cool skin, and she arched into his embrace, hungrier for him than she had ever been for any man. Her hands grasped the cloth covering his biceps using it as an anchor in the tide of emotions he'd plunged her in.

He pushed her down unto the ottoman, and released her long enough to pull all his clothes from the waist up off. She had almost no time to study him because he was on her again in an instant, pulling the edge of her dress down to her waist.

His calloused hands bit at her skin but she couldn't find it in her to care when her dress was somewhere on the floor and he was now working at undoing the ties to her underwear. She gasped out and clung to his shoulders as his mouth descended on her breasts, fiery heat racing straight from his mouth to the very core of her.

She imagined it was to distract her as suddenly she found his hand in a place where she would have never thought it would be next. She emitted a long moan as she arched and bucked up into him and he hummed in his throat when her nipples grazed his chest.

Strange sounds were coming from her throat, unfamiliar ones as this was a new feeling and had never happened with any of the other men she was with. It was like he knew all the right places and wasted no time in using them to his advantage. Just his very presence was arousing and intoxicating all at the same time.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she realized that their match in clothing was a little off, and she raised a red-tipped nail to graze along the seam of his pants before undoing the buttons before her. He stopped his ministrations and gazed at her while she undid his pants and the blatancy of his stare caught her off guard and she grew flushed and embarrassed. His smile was lusty and sexy. He pulled away from her and her embarrassment grew when she heard the moan that escaped her. He smirked and stood.

"Is this what you wanted?" He laughed lowly and undid the knot on his blood red sash. Josie almost screamed when, not only his sash, but also his pants fell with it, telling her that the sash had been doubling as a belt. Again he gave her almost no time to look at him before he was on her again, his legs making room for himself between hers and his body pressing against hers.

The intensity of the room suddenly shifted and Josie could feel the blood thumping somewhere behind her ears as his body positioned himself above her and with a slow fluid movement, he pushed himself inside her. Not all the foreplay in the world could have prepared her for something like him; he filled her so completely that for a split moment, she felt truly one with him.

Her blood churned with lust and pleasure and she didn't even try to stop herself from digging her nails into his back when he moved in a particular way that made her see stars behind her eyelids. His eyes bored into hers and he occasionally lowered his mouth to catch the pants coming out of hers.

He was surprisingly gentle for the rough-and-tumble Texan she knew him to be and it struck something deep within her that he cared enough to be that way; where other men would have not given her that much consideration, just took what they wanted.

She arched into him and was rewarded with a deep groan when her body took more of him in. Her body seemed to burn hotter than the fires of hell as his thrusting hips brought them both closer to climax. The pleasure seemed too much, and when she climaxed, it was too much and she sobbed out his name over and over again; almost pleading with him to end her satisfying misery; almost begging him to stop prolonging his own peak and shatter with her, but he ignored the sound of his name falling from her lips until he couldn't any longer. He buried his face in her neck and howled his completion into her skin, the shudders running through him triggering another climax in her.

He collapsed beside her, his entire body trembling and a light coat of sweat making his body gleam in the dim light. Her own body could barely move, and she was in shock: no one had ever made her feel that way that powerfully. She felt herself drifting off to some well-deserved sleep when Ringo slowly pulled her languid body next to his in a spooning position. She could hear him panting softly in her left ear, and the soothing sound sent her to sleep.

The next morning started with a bang…literally. Before she was even half awake, Ringo already had his pants and sash back on and his guns waiting in their holsters. She pulled the blanket from the bed over herself and waited fearfully with her lover.

"Who do you think it is, Johnny?" His hands tightened their grip on his gun handles. His intense green-blue eyes didn't leave the pounding door.

"I don't know, but they don't know who they're fucking with that's for sure."

The violence of last night was nothing compared to this. The person outside didn't even yell at them to open the door, just kept methodically beating it in, and Johnny just stared unblinkingly at the door.

Suddenly, Wyatt's voice boomed from the other end and Josie shrunk back into the headboard, afraid of the thick malice she could identify.

"Johnny fucking Ringo, I know you're in there. You better have not hurt that girl."

Josephine glanced, alarmed, at Ringo but was shocked to see a devilish smirk spread on his features and in that moment, she thought she could never be more attracted to him.

The beating resumed on the door and this time a loud shot rang in the hotel as Wyatt aimed his gun for the lock on the door. From her vantage point, she saw that Wyatt also had his brothers with him and a burst of fear struck through her for the safety of Ringo.

"Johnny! There's more than one, get out of here!" she commanded him. He glanced over at her and apparently read the fear in her eyes, for he hurried to her side and breathed out a kiss upon her lips. He then rushed to the window in the room and kicked it out, squeezing his body through the space seconds before Wyatt stormed into the room, firing at the space he had just been in.

"Damn!" he swore, sliding his pistol into his holster. He rushed to her side and immediately searched her eyes for the fear that just wasn't there. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

She shook her head softly no and gazed past him, out the window and imagined she was escaping with him, running by his side. Silently, she turned over in the bed and ignored the other occupants in the room.

Her heart felt suddenly empty and she knew then, that the whole night had not just been a careless act of passion. She never put much on the standards of love, but this wasn't just a little feeling she was having anymore.

She was falling in love with Johnny fucking Ringo; wanted man at large.

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-- Co-written with Mask of Mirage...loves you MoM!!