White Wolf (Laurel Lance)

Wild West

Salvation, Dakota terrority. 1771.

When Bucky was a kid, he would imagine himself in one of Clint Eastwood's western Movies. He would often put on a cowboy hat and a pair of guns. He would never have thought he would be in a time where some of his favorite movies took place, wearing authentic clothes, hat a and pair of six guns. He would've enjoyed the time he was spending in the Old West if he wasn't being hunted by mercenaries on Time Masters' payroll. They were in Salvation, Dakota that was located in a time fragmentation, a blindspot in the timeline.

He was playing a game of Texas Hold'em inside a talon near the town square with Stein and he was doing well so far.

"Straight flush. Ace high." Bucky announced what he had, showing the five cards on the poker table. His opponent growled, tossing his own cards in frustration, like a small child over the loss of his money.

"I gotta say. you sure know how to play poker, professor." Bucky said impressed seeing that the oldedt member of the Legends had won money of his own.

"Well, My father was what some might call a degenerate gambler, others would say criminal." Stein told him. "When I was old enough, he'd pull me in on some of his schemes. I picked up a thing or two at a few of the card tables he frequented. Then I took a different path."

"Seems that the catchphrase like father like son isn't always the case." Bucky replied.

"Agreed."

A female waiter walked up and served drinks to everyone at the table. The man who lost the hand didn't take it too kindly as he grabbed her wrist roughly stopping her from leaving. "Do I look busy to you?"

"I'm sorry. I..." The waiter stuttered in fear.

"You spill another drop of that whiskey, and you will be."

"Hey!" Bucky snapped, getting the attention of the man who was rude to the waiter. "Just because you're losing, doesn't give you the right to be a dick to her."

"That's none of ya damn business, freak." The rude man spat and Stein closed his eyes in dread knowing the rude man was in big trouble. If there's one word Bucky hates being called, was the f word.

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky went over the table grabbing the man by the collar. Bucky glared coldly at the man. "The next words coming out of your mouth, better not be another insult. And If I were you, I'd apologize to her. Now." He snarled.

"Now, now, boys, let's just take it easy." Snart drawled, dropping by the table having watched all that.

"Oh, when our friend here is being reasonable, we know we have a problem." Stein noted gesturing to Snart as the voice of reason.

"Exactly." Bucky said, not taking his eyes off the man.

"I'm not the one with the problem. You are." The rude man growled, drawing his gun out. A shot was fired causing gasps around the talon from and it was not Bucky who was shot. It was the rude man who soon after getting shot by Snart in the heart, collapsed to the floor, dead.

Bucky looked at Snart annoyed that he came to his aid. "I had it handled, Leonard."

"You're welcome, James." Snart deadpanned sarcastically.

Unfortunately to their bad luck, the now deceased man had friends as they rose from their seats, having saw their friend killed by Snart at the poker table.

Stein paled seeing that the rude man had compatriots, so he tried to diffuse the situation at hand. "Clearly the deceased was a friend of yours. But, uh, my friends..."