You come across some Yankee soldiers harassing Goodnight and end up threatening them. You don't realize how much you care about him until later.

Some minor swearing and violence. Also mentions war trauma.

****

You're exhausted as you enter the saloon, just wanting to have a few drinks and sit there, alone, hopefully unnoticed. You get a bottle of whiskey and retreat to the back of the saloon, sipping on the strong liquid when a bunch of union soldiers come barreling into the saloon, laughing loudly.

You slide further down into your seat, watching as the group boisterously jabs one another, talking far more loudly than necessary and teasing each other.

You glance over, noticing a tall, slender man, dressed in a gray, wool suit, at a table close to yours, shoulders hunched up around his ears, his eyes downcast as he sips his drink, puffing away on his cigarette.

You immediately recognize the stance of war trauma. You'd seen it too many times in the vacant gaze of those who fought in the war. It broke your heart, and you didn't blame them for feeling the affects of that horrible violence.

Suddenly one of the union soldiers takes notice of the man and elbows one of his buddies, whispering loudly, gesturing towards the man. You sigh. Here we go. Some asshole is going to make a scene. You'd best leave before you get caught in the fray.

"Hey, old timer! You lost?" The man saunters over to the older gentleman, who doesn't even lift his head.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" The young man kicks at the older one, causing him to jerk and drop his glass. You watch as the glass crashes to the floor, the remaining liquid making a puddle at the man's feet.

"What do you want?" The older man's tone is dull and sluggish. His eyes are glazed over. You don't miss the sadness lurking in his beautiful steel blue eyes.

"You're a no good, lousy confederate! Get your sorry ass outta here before I make you!"

The man slides his chair back, struggling to stand. Another union soldier joins. The second the older man is on his feet, the second man punches him right in the face. He stumbles backwards, tripping over the chair and falls heavily onto the floor. Both of the men laugh.

The older man just lies there for a few minutes before struggling to get up. As soon as he's about up, the first man shoves him, causing him to stumble again.

"That's enough!" You're on your feet, anger flooding through you as you march over to the men.

"Oooh! Are you angry?" The second man taunts, pretending to be scared.

"Damn right I am! Get out of here before I go get the sheriff and have you two arrested for disturbing the peace!"

The two men just laugh, as they start to walk away. You whip out your gun, pressing into the first man's back. He stiffens. You grin.

"Did you think I was bluffing?"

"N..No..not..exactly."

"Then get out! Now! Before I get trigger happy!" The entire group of soldiers run out as you return your gun to your holster and turn to see if the older man needs help.

He's staring at you in disbelief. You go and help him up. He smiles a little. You grin.

"Care to join me for a drink?" You ask.

"That's mighty kind of you. I'd be honored."

***

Goodnight Robicheaux is his name. You'd told him yours, Y/N. You've been sitting here for several hours, just chatting about anything and everything. He's a damn decent fellow.

"One thing I don't understand," Goodnight says quietly.

"What?"

"Why did you come to my defense?"

"Those assholes were bullies and obviously have no respect for anyone who has a different opinion than they do."

Goodnight leans over and you fight against the urge to..kiss him. He looks so..broken and it's killing you inside. You reach for his hand and grasp it tightly.

"They weren't wrong about me. I'm...nothing."

"That's not true," you argue. "You're a human being and you have feelings, same as anyone."

Goodnight nods, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I have a room I'm renting upstairs," he murmurs. "Care to join me for a while?"

"I'd be honored, Mr. Robicheaux. Thank you."

***

You'd fallen asleep, nestled securely in Goodnight's arms. You hadn't exactly planned on that, but he certainly didn't seem to have any complaints about it.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd slept so well, either. Even Goodnight admitted that he'd slept better with you close to him.

You smile, gently kissing him as he chuckles softly, hugging you closer, your arms around him, holding him protectively.

"I'm really happy I decided to stop in this particular saloon," you murmur sleepily as you caress Goodnight's face.

"You know what, darlin,'" Goodnight says, kissing your forehead. "So am I."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Goody," you tease. "But I'm afraid you're stuck with me now."

Goodnight hugs you closer as you snuggle into his chest.

"I'm content with that, Y/N. I wouldn't want you to go." You tilt your head up, kissing him again.

"I'm pleased to hear that, Mr. Robicheaux. So pleased."

"And I'm pleased you're staying, Y/N."