Disclaimer: Not mine.

Carnivale: Rita Sue, Jonesy → regret

"You're gonna regret it," she said coming around the corner and running her hand along the tent. "And it'll be sooner rather than later." She put her cigarette to her lips and took a long, lazy drag.

"What are you jawwin' on about?" He was bent over a crate nailing the lid in place. It was cool and dark outside after the show had come down, and the occasional breeze that whipped at the canvas tents was filled with dust. Jonesy looked up from his hammer and watched Rita Sue pull another cigarette from her cleavage.

"Cigarette?" He took it and she offered her own as a light. Their eyes met as he took his first drag, but they both looked away to smoke in silence for a moment.

"My baby has a strong will, though she don't show it 'til it matters. She ain't like me," Rita Sue said looking across the midway. She inhaled and exhaled the smoke slowly, letting the words sink in before elaborating. After a moment, when she didn't or couldn't speak again, Jonesy sighed and moved around the crate to stand in front of her.

"I'm not sure what you're tryin' to do, but Libby and me is married, and it's gonna stay that way." His tone was stern and his words deliberate and steady. "You and Stumpy can huff and puff all you want, but Libby ain't a little a girl no more."

"She's not no woman either. She may look like one and men may notice her like men do, but she might as well be in diapers when it comes to knowin' the world. She's got some notion you're a hero done saved her."

"Maybe I have. But she don't need me to be her father, and she can look after herself just fine." He threw his cigarette to the ground and looked down where it lay for a few moments to breathe.

"She's a dancer, Jonesy," she said as he looked back up at her. Rita Sue made sure he was looking her dead in the eyes when she spoke again. "That's all she knows. That and whorin'."

Whatever reaction she was hoping for, she didn't get nearly half of it. His eyes narrowed and he breathed roughly, "Thanks to you." He took his hat off and ran his hands through his hair as he turned away from her.

"Yeah, she came by it honest. Guess you got yourself a type." She could see his shoulders tense and waited for the storm to come. For good measure she added, "You married the only natural-born whore I've ever laid eyes on." And there it was.

He whirled around and threw his hat to the ground. "She's my wife, goddammit! I don't care if you're Jesus Christ himself, but you don't talk about her that way!" Jonesy said trying to keep his voice down. His face was red and his eyes were blazing. "Now she's married. That makes her a respectable woman."

"I'm married. Guess that makes me respectable, too," she chirped.

"Your husband sells you to the highest bidder every night. I ain't havin' no shit-hole marriage like yours." He spat in disgust. "Libby is with me and only me, 'til death." Jonesy picked up his hat, dusted it off on his pants, and limped away toward his tent.

Rita Sue lit another cigarette and smiled to herself as she watched him disappear into the darkness.

End.