Target Practice

by cxrsedxangel

Summary:

Arthur takes you to practice your shooting after a successful job with some of the other gang members.

Riding on the back of your golden brown horse, Dawn, with the gang members who had accompanied you for the robbery. Coming down from the adrenaline high of a successful score from the bank from the next town over. Coming home with a few thousand, along with some other jewelry and gold.

You steer Dawn, following behind Arthur, Hosea, Charles, and Sadie as you all enter the vicinity of camp. The gang members all get off their horses, while you do the same, hitching your horse up to the post when you hear boot steps approach you. You didn't need to fully turn around to know it with Athur, his broad frame blocking the sun from shining on you. You look up, petting Dawn, as you gaze up at him.

"Can I help you, Mr. Morgan?"

He nods slightly, tilting his head down, letting a bit of sun hit your eyes as he leans against the post, resting his hands on his belt buckle.

"I wanna take you somewhere." It's not quite a question, but not forceful enough to be a command, but that's all he says, leaving out any details as he stays leaning against the post, waiting for your response.

You stare, looking at those blue eyes, not entirely convinced, you continue to pet Dawn's back a bit more.

"And where exactly would we be going?"

"To teach you how to shoot."

You scoff, rolling your eyes at him, crossing your arms and folding them over your chest, very much offended. You knew how to shoot. Granted, you weren't a highly skilled, experienced gunslinger like Arthur, but it got the job done. You knew the basics, and it had gotten you this far.

"I know how to shoot, thank you very much."

Arthur shakes his head, obviously disagreeing with that. He stands up off the post, walking to stand closer to you. Scratching his neck as he looks back at you."No, you know how to pull a trigger and hope you hit what you intended. There's a difference. Now I will admit, you're mighty fine with a bow, I'll give ya that, you and Charles are the best with a bow out of all camp. But, and I mean this with no offense, you can't shoot for shit darnlin'."

You shift a bit, looking at the down at the dirt, trying not to get mad, but you really didn't think it was that bad. You take a few seconds before looking at him, covering the sun with your hand, bringing it up to your forehead. "I think I shoot fine enough, still alive, aren't I?"

He chuckles, letting out a short, low laugh, "You shoot sloppy, your breathing is all wrong, your footing is unstable, and your aim is 50/50. You're decent at shooting when the target is still, but back there, back at the bank, you were shooting at the air, hoping for the best."

Arthur goes over to Boadicea, mounting onto the saddle, reaching his hand out for you to get on. "C'mon.."

You pause hesitantly, not wanting to admit that he was spot on with everything he had just described. You roll your eyes, grabbing hitching Dawn. Then you reluctantly take his hand, mounting on the back of Boadciea, sighing as you reach around, wrapping your hands around his stomach. "Where are we going?"

"Going to practice, maybe even hunt if you get there." You don't respond as the two of you ride out of camp. Quietly enjoying the sounds of nature, you ride deeper into the woods.

After a few minutes of comfortable, peaceful silence, you speak up. "And you're sure you're not dragging me out here to kill me?"

Arthur laughs hard. You couldn't see it, but you could hear the big smile that must've been on his face. "Nah, now if your name was Micah Bell, that it would've been a different story."

"I wouldn't blame you. Hell, I don't think most of the camp would either. He's up to something."

Arthur hums, agreeing, "I know he is darlin' him and Dutch, something isn't right."

You nod, trying to calm yourself after hearing the pet name slip from his lips for the second time. Grateful that his back was to you, so he couldn't see your attempt at suppressing a smile. It was only a few minutes longer till Arthur was in a spot he was satisfied with, hopping off Boadciea, then taking your hand to help you down. He hands you a rifle, before grabbing a few old bottles also. You watch as he walks over to a stump, setting up your target practice and adding a few old cans from his pouch. Then he grabs some of his rope, tying it around the bottles and hanging them up in a few trees, making a "moving" target.

You stare at your targets, expecting something that was at least alive, a rabbit or something. Not Uncle's old bottles and the empty food cans.

"You said we were going hunting, not shooting cans."

Arthur follows your stare to the bottles and cans before looking back at you."Gotta crawl before you can walk. Now show me how you hold it."

"This is ridiculous. I know how to hold a gun."

You hold the rifle up like you usually do. But Arthur comes up behind you, adjusting your hand placement and lowering your shoulders. His hands move to your hips, gently repositioning them as well. You can't remember the last time you and Arthur had ever been this close, if ever. You let him shift your hips, squaring them with your feet. Even though there was a bout half a dozen layers between his hands and your bare hips, you still felt rattled, and suddenly very hot and distracted, focusing more on his big, rough hands on you, than on how you were supposed to be standing.

"Well, you're not showing it." He retorts, stepping back, pleased with your position, moving out of the way, nodding to the bottle, giving you the go ahead to shoot. "Alright, now try to hit the bottle third to the left."

You nod, gripping the rifle tightly, and bring it up. You try your best, lining your sight with the bottle, take a deep breath, as you pull the trigger. Firing the rifle with a loud bang. Only to hit nothing, the bullet landed in the grass behind the bottle. You lower the rifle, looking over at Arthur, but before he could get a word out, you were already justifying your missed shot.

"You're making me nervous, standing over there in that all black outfit, and tall and… you're just intimidating."

Arthur chuckles at your excuses but entertains them, taking a few steps back a bit more out of your periphery. "This better?"

"No. Arthur, this is stupid. Why can't we go track a deer, or something?"

"You can't even shoot a bottle thats not moving. Now try again this time-" Arthur walks over, standing behind you, changing where your hands were on the rifle.

"Keep your feet planted steady, keep your eye on your target, and always pull the trigger on empty lungs, not while you're inhaling." He guides with his deep and low whisper. Once again, distracting you more than helping you focus.

He steps back a bit, giving you some room, watching as you hold up the rifle, looking down the shot, taking a deep breath, exhaling, and pulling the trigger, firing a shot at the whiskey bottle you aim for. The bullet lands and shatters the bottle. You lower the rifle, satisfied as you turn to face him.

"Told you I know how to shoot."

Arthur snorted a chuckle. "You didn't know anything. Don't lie. Now, try aiming for one of the bottles I tied up there. I'll give it a little push."

You watch as Arthur goes over to the trees, pushing a few of the bottles, which sway in the wind, adding to his push and making the bottles move a bit faster. You wait for him to step away before holding the rifle up, looking down the sight.

"Try to shoot the green-looking bottle, wanna see how you handle being told what to shoot."

You nod, setting your eye on the bottle Arthur pointed out, focusing on Arthur's suggestions and pointers running through your head, and implementing them. You slow your breathing, taking a big inhale before exhaling as you pull the trigger. Successfully breaking the bottle off the tree, as it shatters, falling into the grass. You smile once again, satisfied and honestly a bit shocked at your accuracy. You lower the rifle as Arthur walks over, clearly proud of your improvement, bringing his hand on your shoulder, rubbing it affectionately.

"Well, look at that! A few more practices and you might be able to give me a run for my money."

"Oh, now you're just stroking my ego. I'm still much better at a bow. But thank you for making me decent with a gun."

You practice a few more, successfully hitting all the bottles and cans he had set up. You'd never admit it to him, but he really did improve your shooting and your aim.

He smile a bit as you hand him the rifle back. "See look at that. Now, if a job goes wrong, I won't have to worry about catching your stray bullets."

"I was never that bad. Never accidentally shoot anyone before. But um, seriously, Arthur, thank you.

"Ah, it's nothing, just wanted to make sure you can handle yourself. As often as things go wrong, can't be too safe."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to do all this. You could've just done nothing, honestly."

Arthur doesn't say much, going back to put the rifle back in his horse bag. Deflecting, like always, whenever you try to compliment him and his character. You knew he was a good man. It was evident in the way he spoke to the others around camp, how he was always helping everyone, even Herr Strauss and Micah.

"Alright, you ready to head on home?"

You pause, thinking for a bit. "Can we just sit out for a bit. Camp is always so claustrophobic and tight, don't get me wrong, I love everyone back at camp, but sometimes it's-",

"It's just you wanna be somewhere quiet. I get ya."

He comes over where you were sitting against a stump, sitting next to you. He takes off his black cowboy hat, setting it on the ground next to him.

He doesn't say anything, and neither do you, but it's not awkward or uncomfortable. You both just sit, enjoying the silence and comforting presence of each other. After a few seconds, Arthur reached his bag, took out his journal, and started to draw. You hear his pencil moving along the paper as you look at a cardinal that landed on a branch a few trees away. You assume Athur is drawing the scene in front of you, that is, until you turn to see the paper, seeing a portion of your own face on the paper in complete and in progress, but already recognizable. You don't say much, not wanting to embarrass him or make him think you're creeped out. But it did make your heart warm, knowing you'd have a place in his journal for a while, for forever even. You take another glance at the paper before looking at the trees relaxing in the calmness of the woods.

You speak up, breaking the silence. "Next time we'll go hunting."

Arthur cracks a smile as he agrees, nodding a bit. "Sure, we can go hunting. Let me know when you wanna to go. Just don't ask me to go fishing, cause that would be a sad sight."

You both laugh again, before falling back into a comfortable silence, only hearing the chirping of different birds, the slight breeze through the trees, and the sounds of Arthur's pencil sketching on the paper in his journal.