[Lane] Whiskey for my Men

[Jacquelyn Noelle Daniels]

It wasn't a fantastic job, and it didn't pay all that well...but it was the only job she could get after being convicted of a felony... especially a felony like "grand theft auto" that landed her in jail for three years. It was a good thing she didn't really have that many bills to pay because she barely made enough to pay the ones she had. Every penny she made went to board for her horse, and whatever was leftover from that went to the vet as a payment on the $5000 she owed for the surgery, leaving not even so much as a dime for rent, meaning Addison's dear little jailbird was quite literally homeless, a real pain in the ass during the colder seasons of the year, but nothing she couldn't handle. Most nights she spent either in the stall with the horse or in the hayloft where she wouldn't be found so long as she woke up early enough to avoid the people who came to feed in the morning.

Most of the time she tried to work the night shift so as to avoid the need to sleep altogether, but even the most exuberant people couldn't go without so much as a wink of sleep for all that long. Unfortunately, for more than one reason, she'd landed herself the day shift. She really hadn't slept much last night and felt a little like a zombie this morning. Nevertheless, there was work to be done. After spending her usual time with her horse, she headed off for work, still feeling a little like she was sleep walking. It really wasn't a very good idea to be half asleep while mixing drinks, but it wasn't as if she could help it. Between taking care of her horse and staying out of trouble, and working on top of it all she hardly had time to get decent rest.

As she walked in the back door she felt like her whole body was protesting taking another step, and her brain kept tempting her with thoughts of "missing one day won't hurt, you can just tell him you forgot" but on the other hand she knew she needed every cent she made, and missing one day really would hurt. She could hear the sound of music coming from up front, the very few people currently there chatting, and the horse racing on the TV in the back, but it hardly registered in her mind. Sure, she was normally more alert, but she was barely coherent at this point, and there wasn't really much of anything registering in her mind at the moment.

Jacq trudged up towards the bar, and stopped as she stepped out of the back room, eyeing the occupants of the room warily. Trust was definitely her biggest issue, despite having worked here for a short while now she rarely ever spoke a word to her co-workers. In all honesty, she hated this job with a passion. Her co-workers were men, the people she served were mostly men, the cops who came to break up a fight or bust a minor were usually always men... it was like one great big sausage fest and she was stuck in the middle of it. Oh sure, she was probably exaggerating a lot, but in her bitter and overly defensive mind that was exactly how it was... but day in and day out, when the crowds came she put on that same face she'd put on every day when she'd been "dating" Beck, and pretended like nothing bothered her.

In truth, it bothered her a lot... the drunk and/or desperate men attempting to hit on her and having to force herself to flirt with them to ensure a decent tip. The only reason she worked here was for the money... and if she had some other way to pay the board and make the payments, then she definitely would quit, but she didn't, so she was stuck here. Not wanting to engage with anyone, as she typically didn't, she just hung back and waited to be approached, making absolutely sure none of the people there decided to come invade her rather lage bubble of private space. Unless it was one of the guys ordering a drink at the bar, no one was allowed within her bubble... and no one would be given the legitimate reason why if they questioned it. There were some things a girl just didn't talk about with people she didn't fully trust.

She leaned her elbows on the counter and waited, fully aware of the fact that she probably looked a bit like a zombie at the moment. Slowly but surely, she was wearing herself into the ground, and one of these days she probably was going to collapse in the middle of doing God knows what and land herself in the hospital or something of that nature... but she just didn't know the meaning of "when enough is enough" and she wouldn't quit until she was forced to, there was a life depending on her, and she was going to see to it as best she could, no matter that the life wasn't human.

[m4ry23]

hold tight with a leather fist;

<sub>The Addison afternoon air was warm but it had a cool undertone, nice enough to wear a thin longe sleeve shirt while you worked outside or worked your horse. He had done both this morning already, and now he was parched and needed a cool liquid to refresh him. The cool liquid of choice was a beer, and the place of choice would be Molly's of course. He was what you would call a usual at the night life scene here in Mollys, usually walked out of the doors of the Saloon with a different girl each night.

Lane was coming from running calves at the barn's outdoor arena on his four year old gelding, Sunny. He wore a straw cowboy hat with a hawk feather sticking out of the hat bad, his dirty blonde hair coming up in tufts around the sides. He was dressed in a long sleeve black tee-shirt that said NFR Rodeo in grey, with a few sponserships on the back. The shirt was tucked into the seam of his dusty blue jeans, which were held around his waist by a worn leather belt with one of his many winning belt buckles holding it together. As he walked into the saloon, his boot heels scuffed along the wooden floor, the rowels of his spurs twisting with each step to make a spinning sound.

His green eyes caught site of the bar tender, peeling away for a second to walk over to a table where two old times asked him how the roping was today. "Same ole same ole, my little gelding did good," he replied to them, shaking some hands and laughing as the old men talked of back when and began conversating between themselves about when the did rodeo. He pushed off the table, walking to the main bar and pulling back a bar stool with one of his callolused hands. He smiled at the girl behind the bar, noting that she looked exhausted or uninterested in her work. "Afternoon, can I get a pint of coors from tap please?" he asked, his deep Texas accent bellowed as he spoke. His handsomely chisled face was complemented by his pearly white teeth and tanned yet olive skin. He was sure he had seen her bartend here before, since he was in here almost everyfriday and some other days.

"You look exhausted, you alright?" he asked, his green eyes glancing her a one over, for once just not checking her out, though his eyes did stray over curves. He was Lane freaking Brooks, he was a champion Calf Roper in the NFR, a bad ass team roper, and a damn good cutter. He was a rich young kid with a hell of a talent and an eye for the ladies, but the ladies surely loved him too. He was quite the cocky boy, with a lean, muscular build and a tall frame. He threw calves everyday, and since he could pick up a bale of hay he worked on the ranch. He was from a big, tight family and they did everything together, including ranching, but he had recently decided he made enough money to do things on his own, therefor he transitioned his lifestyle to Addison. Addison was still close enough to home that he could go for a weekend, but it was far enough the the twenty-two year old could live on his own and make his own life.

Lane was from Stephenville, Texas. He was the spawn of two rodeo champions and at young age he had also become one. Now a days he trained horses for roping and cutting, and rodeoed to make his living. For a guy of twenty-two his bank account was loaded. He had bought his house and a new truck and trailer rig this year for travel, mostly with cash. Sure he worked hard for his money, but he really had no problem spending the money he earned too. He liked to go out, drink, party, buy new tack, horses, and boots. He had boots like most women had high heels. Unless he was at the gym, he wore nothing but boots, it was a little rediculous how many pairs he had of all colors. Not to mention he had sponsorship with justin boots, so he got new stuff all the time.

"I'm Lane Brooks," he told the pretty bartender, just trying to strike up conversation. He had a real friendly, easy-going personality and he loved to talk and make friends. He was easy to get a long with almost everyone, except some guys whom he had messed around with their girlfriends. That was kind of a no go, but still he liked to be friendly to everyone, espically a pretty bartender.</sub>

watch out when he starts to twist!

[Jacquelyn Noelle Daniels]

Poison Ivy... that was what Jacquelyn was. A innocent looking delicate white little flower...... that was bound to make you so terribly miserable you wanted to curl up in a corner and disappear. well, not really quite that bad, honestly she was a little more like barbed wire... get tangled up with her and not only were you unlikely to be able to get back out without getting hurt, but she would do her absolute best to do as much damage as she possibly could as long as she had you in her grasp. She was bitter, and the whole world had better know it, and they were going to pay for it. Oh sure, she knew not a single person here had anything to do with anything that had happened to her, but you bet she didn't care. As far as she was concerned one man was just as bad as the last... and when you followed that chain down far enough, you'd come to her foster dad who was just about as bad as they came.

Jacq glanced up as another person walked in, her cold steel gray eyes following his every move as he meandered through the room and over in her direction. She'd seen him around quite often... most every night she'd worked he came in, and most every night she'd seen him leave with a different girl latched onto his arm. Typical cowboy. No doubt he had practically married himself to the rodeo, but one thing the rodeo couldn't give him was relief from the primitive urge to reproduce... or at least to go through the motions of doing so... so he used unsuspecting women to fill that need. He was cheating on his rodeo, but she wouldn't ever know, and the girl he was cheating with... she probably knew about the rodeo, but she didn't care... and part of her probably hoped that he would leave it for her, but we all know he never would. Women were like play-things to cowboys, used and thrown away when they got tired of them.

When he moseyed on over to the bar and requested his drink, she grabbed the glass, poured the beer, and set it on the bar in front of him without her usual flintiness. Not only was she not in the kind of mood to pretend to be one of those cute flirty girls but she also just really didn't feel like she was going to like this guy at all... not that she ever liked anyone at all, but she was just in a bad mood this particular day. She knew all too well that she should do her best to make people like her while she was working so she could make decent money, but some days she just couldn't do that, after all, she was only human, and there was only so much she could take of pretending to be someone else. Every once in a while she needed a day to just be her usual bitter self.

When he asked if she was alright, she simply scowled and had no response. What did it matter to him if she was alright or not? The day she would finally be alright was when she had paid of Vince's vet bill and could actually afford somewhere to live... so unless he was going to pay it for her, there was absolutely nothing he could do to change her status as alright or not. Friendly conversation was not something Jacq was fluent in. As far as she had seen in her life people were only nice to you to get something out of it and she had no interest in partaking in that kind of relationship. Since that was the only kind of relationship she believed existed between humans, she was apt to live her whole life alone aside from her horse, and if he took a turn for the worst and had to be put down, she would quite literally have nothing.

He then went on to tell her his name, and probably expected hers in return... but no such luck cowboy. Charmed. She muttered with a vast amount of sarcasm dripping from the word. If anyone wanted to get more than a word or two at a time out of Jacquelyn when she was in one of these moods they were going to have to try a lot harder than that. She was a hard egg to crack, and even then she still wasn't all that open about anything. Needless to say, Jacquelyn definitely wasn't your typical girl, and it didn't take people long to figure that out. You actually had to work at it to get anything out of her.