Crescent Smile ~ John Marston Story

✽.✫☽ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹𝟸 ☾✫.✽

(Unedited)
Word count: 5191
{Listen while you read?~I recommend Hard Day by The Death South}

☽✫.✽✦✽.»»——⍟——««.✽✦✽.✫☾

The next morning in Blackwater brought a serene calmness to the town. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a warm golden glow across the quiet streets. Dixie woke up in her rented room feeling refreshed, the events of the previous day slowly fading into the background as she stretched and yawned.

As she made her way downstairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, drawing her towards the cozy saloon. John was already there, sitting at a table with two steaming cups in front of him. He looked up and smiled as Dixie approached.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her, pushing a cup of coffee towards her. "I figured you'd need this after you gave me all your money last night."

Dixie gratefully accepted the cup after sending John the finger, taking a sip of the rich, aromatic brew. She glanced around the saloon, noticing a few locals starting their day with a hearty breakfast. The atmosphere was relaxed, with a few conversations and the occasional clinking of glasses breaking the morning silence.

As they sat together, savoring their coffee, John looked towards her, "We gonna talk to Professor and Nastas today don't like I can deal with the agents today."

"I agree with that." "I concur," she grumbled discontentedly, her fingers delicately wrapped around the warm coffee cup. With their drinks now emptied, they leisurely made their way back across the street, approaching McDougal's office. John courteously held the door open for the woman, who acknowledged him with a nod of gratitude before stepping inside. He followed suit, entering the room moments later. Immediately, their attention was drawn to the peculiar sight of the doctor hunched over a microscope.

"Incredible. Simply incredible," he exclaimed to himself, his voice filled with awe.

"Hello, Professor," John greeted, still standing behind the woman, as he closed the door.

"Hello, sir!" replied the professor, without even bothering to look up. When he finally raised his gaze, he let out an unexpected shriek. "Ah, woman!" he practically screamed, before John stepped out from behind her. "Oh, Mr. Marston, sir. Good day, good day. How are you?"

Moving closer, John joined the woman in examining the sparse furniture and bare walls, absentmindedly spinning his glove as he addressed the professor. "Well, apart from the fact that my family's health and well-being are being threatened by unscrupulous government agents, and my hard-won freedom is under duress, I suppose I'm fair."

"Yes, the challenges of civilizing nomads. Tell me, sir, are you of Norse stock?" inquired the professor, standing up and circling the cowboy. Dixie raised an eyebrow, a hint of concern etched on her face.

"Not as far as I know. I was raised in an orphanage. My father was Scottish," John replied.

"Unfortunate. You would have made an interesting case for my theory on natural population characteristics," McDougal remarked.

"Really?" John asked, his amusement evident as he cast a questioning glance at Dixie.

"Why, yes. A white man, obviously, but with a savage spirit," explained the eccentric doctor. "Please trust me, sir, I mean 'savage' in the best possible sense. A natural nobility, yet also unspoiled and pure. I have been studying some blood samples under my microscope, and you know what?" The strange doctor turned to face John, who exchanged a puzzled look with Dixie. She simply shrugged in response.