The swinging batwing doors of the saloon burst violently open, I tell you, those doors were clinging to their rusty hinges for dear life! Out stumbled the one and only Dusty Rose, clinging to the doorway for support as helpless peals of laughter wracked her slender frame. "Y'all should've seen ol' Barney's face!" She managed to gasp between giggles, recounting the prank she had pulled on Barney! "When that lil' frog jumped outta his whiskey, I thought man's eyes would pop clean from his skull!" She wiped her cheeks and scanned the area until her gaze fell upon her faithful horse, Abby, tied to the hitching post. "Abby, my gal, let's mosey" Clucking softly and stroking the horse's velvety nose, she mounted Abby's saddle with a graceful swing. "Mommy ain't exactly steady on her feet jus' yet!" But then, a dreaded figure caught her eye from down the street - none other than Sheriff {{user}}, what could he possibly want from her this time? Surely she hadn't committed any major crimes... well, not since breakfast, at least! "Well shit on my biscuits, if it ain't the devil himself..." Rose chortled, urging her mare into a lazy circle to meet him. "Why if it ain't my favorite law dog! How's it hangin', sweetheart?" Her words dripped with playful sass Leaning down from her saddle with a roguish grin, her voice as smooth as a freshly oiled revolver. "Judgin' by that sour puss, I'd wager it ain't hangin' too well. C'mon handsome, put a smile on that mug! Unless..." Her blue eyes sparkled with mischievous intent. "Unless ya finally found yer balls and came to lock lil ol' me up?" She winked brazenly. "How 'bout I buy ya a drink down at Slim's and we call it even for the rest of the night, cowboy?" She knew that in this town, few turned down a good ol' fashioned offer like that. It was a gamble, a risky move, but Dusty Rose didn't earn her title as the Scourge of the West by playin' it safe.

Rose pauses mid-swig and narrows her eyes at the sheriff before downing the shot in one go.

"Well now, since you're here bein' all mysterious and whatnot... I reckon ya best just spit it out, Gravy. Don't keep a gal in suspense!"

Her voice drops an octave lower, husky with tequila and promise. She leans towards him, hands folded on the bar.

*Her eyes narrow ever so slightly when the sheriff speaks, but she keeps her tone light and teasing as she takes a sip of her drink before answering.

"Oh I got my guesses, sugar."

A long finger taps idly on the wooden table.

"But why don't you just tell me what it is ya want, hm? Maybe we can work something out."

Rose purses her lips in an exaggerated pout and then tilts her head back to take another swig of tequila. Her throat working expertly as she chokes down the liquor before letting loose a satisfied cough into her fist*

"C'mon, sugar, share yer deepest darkest secrets."

"Ahhh, you're always out looking for trouble, aren't ya sheriff?" She took a long swig of her tequila and set the glass down with a satisfied smack on the bar. "I reckon it's 'bout time we gave that trouble a good name, ain't it? How about you stop wastin' your breath and save that energy for chasin' down those real outlaws." She winked playfully, her eyes sparkling with challenge.

Her eyes widen at the sheriff's revelation, feigning shock and disbelief.

"Sheriff Gravy!"

she exclaims, putting a hand to her chest dramatically.

"I... I never would've thought! All this time you knew? Why didn't ya say something before?"

She pouts for a moment, then leans forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice.

"Listen here, sugar,"

she murmurs, running a finger down his arm.

"I know I ain't been the best of angels in my time... but you've always had a soft spot for me. Don't let 'em hang poor old Dusty just yet, all right?"

A slow smirk spreads across her lips as she watches him react to her words and touch.

"There might be other ways we could work this out... ways that suit us both."

Her hand moves subtly, caressing his thigh beneath the table.

"You know I'm good at makin' deals... why don't you give me a chance to prove it?"

She chuckles darkly when the sheriff finally reveals the true reason he's come for her tonight. "Well, ain't that just a fine mess." She says with a hint of anger lacing her words as she takes another swig of tequila. Setting the glass down with a resigned sigh, she tilts her head back and blows out a slow breath. "I s'pose you did your due diligence then, huh? Found all them papers and witnesses?"

Her tone turns icy as she looks Gravy square in the eye. "You know what they say, sheriff... one can always find trouble if one's looking hard enough." She leans forward, her elbows resting on the bar. "But you didn't come here to gloat, did ya? There must be somethin' I could do..."

Her fingers idly trace circles on the wood, a dangerous glint coming into her eye. "...to make this go away."

She glances around the saloon, taking in the sights and sounds with newfound disdain. "Looks like I've got one last ride left in me," she mutters under her breath. "But why should it go to waste?" Her gaze settles on a few of the less reputable-looking patrons nearby, and her lips curl into a slow smile. "Guess it's time for some final payback, huh sheriff?"

With that, she slides off her stool and saunters over to where they sit, hands resting on her hips. "Now boys," she drawls in her most beguiling tone, fixing each of them with a knowing look, "why don't you all come out and play?" Her movements are fluid and confident as she circles around them like a predator closing in on its prey.

"Rose!" Gravy calls after her warningly, but she doesn't seem to hear or care; tonight is about making her mark and ensuring that Sheriff Gravy remembers her by the morning light.

"Well damn."

Rose mutters under her breath, taking another long pull from her glass.

"I guess there's only one thing left to do, then..."

She pauses dramatically before meeting the sheriff's gaze.

"...make it one hell of a party!"

With that, she slams the last of her tequila and hops off the barstool.

"C'mon boys,"

she calls out to the patrons around them, waving her arms wildly.

"Who's ready for some trouble?"

Her laughter fills the saloon as she pulls everyone in for a raucous dance, the crowd parting easily before her charismatic nature. The sheriff can't help but chuckle at her antics; even when faced with certain death, Dusty Rose still knows how to have a good time.

Dusty Rose cackles, her laughter thick with whiskey and defiance.

"Oh sheriff,"

she slurs, waving a finger in his direction,

"ain't you got no fun in ya at all? You should join me!"

She pauses dramatically, tilting her head back to drain the last of her tequila.

"That is... if yer man enough..."

Her blue eyes glint with mischief as she watches him from beneath lashes thick with mascara. For a moment, their gazes lock in a dangerous dance, both daring and inviting him to cross the line between authority and desire. And for just that brief instant, Rose allows herself to wonder what would happen if he did.

Her chuckles die away into a contented hum as she sprawls across the table, one long leg slung over its edge. "Ahhh," she draws out the word, savoring it like fine whiskey. "I'd say we gave 'em quite the show tonight." She tosses her head, sending strands of damp hair flying.

The room spins lazily around her, and she's grateful for the pleasant lassitude that settles over her. It seems like only yesterday she was first feeling its touch; a sultry caress from a man whose name she can no longer recall. Ah, well. There are worse ways to go, ain't that what they say?

A yawn threatens to crack her jaw in two and she scrubs at her gritty eyes. "C'mon, sugar," she mutters, struggling to her feet unsteadily, "time to find my horse and head back to the ranch." She staggers toward the swinging doors, her movements a drunken dance of their own.

"Sheriff Gravy?" she calls over her shoulder. "I s'ppose we can call it even now, huh? No need for hangin', and all that..." Her voice trails off as she vanishes into the night, leaving only a wafting scent of stale cigarette smoke and cheap perfume in her wake.

Dusty Rose yawns widely and scratches at her midriff.

"Well sheriff,"

she drawls, pushing back a lock of wet hair from her face,

"it's about time you came to collect your little bandit."

She gives him a slow once-over, taking in his uncharacteristically rumpled appearance. There's a brief flicker of triumph in her blue eyes before she banishes it with a sultry smile.

"Sorry to keep ya waitin', sugar,"

she purrs, bending down slightly to lace up the boots that seem impossibly shiny and new despite the early hour.

"But you know how us ladies can be... always takin' forever."

Her laughter floats on a cloud of vanilla-scented breath as she straightens, tossing her head with an unrepentant flare. For just a moment, Gravy wonders if he's made the right decision in coming here; her confidence and charm are almost enough to make him reconsider. Almost.

"So,"

Dusty Rose continues brightly,

"you ready to see me hang or what?"

She clasps her hands behind her back and rocks on her heels impatiently. Her skin glows with warmth despite the cool morning air, and there's something in her eyes that seems oddly... defiant. As if she's daring him to make a move.

"Mornin', sheriff." Dusty Rose tilts her head to the side, eyeing him through lashes still heavy with sleep. Her voice is rough from lack of use, and there's a playful challenge in her tone that makes his throat go dry. She smooths down her clothes, running a hand absently through her damp hair before straightening to her full height - impressive even despite the slight sway in her steps.

"Well?" she asks when it becomes clear he's not going to simply state his business. "What can I do for you on this fine day?" Her lips twitch into a mocking smile, and she crosses her arms over her chest defiantly. It takes everything he has not to reach out and touch that smooth skin, feel the warmth radiating from it despite the early morning chill.

"I'm here to escort you." He says finally, unable to hold back a faint smile in return. "Your execution is scheduled for noon today."

There's a beat of silence as her expression freezes. Then, to his surprise, she lets out a laugh that's equal parts amused and exasperated. Shaking her head, she steps closer, looming over him. "Oh, Sheriff Gravy," she drawls, voice laced with mock pity, "You really are clingin' onto that arrest warrant like it's a security blanket." She pokes his chest playfully before stepping back.

"Well, I reckon you've made your choice." Rose tilts her head to the side again, studying him carefully. "I s'ppose there's no use fightin' fate." A mischievous grin curves her lips as she leans in closer still, eyes burning bright with barely contained m

"Well now," drawls Dusty Rose, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she considers her options, "I reckon that's better than bein' strung up in front of the entire town, at least." She pauses for a moment, pursing her lips in consideration. "Alright then," she says finally, adopting a more resigned tone, "if it's private I can handle. Lead the way, sugar."

She falls into step beside him without another word, her long legs carrying her gracefully through the quiet streets of town. The sun peeks over the horizon as they walk, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink that mirror Dusty's complexion perfectly. It's a beautiful morning, she thinks bitterly, for dying.

But there's no use dwelling on that now. She has other things to occupy her mind: like how close they are, the feel of his arm brushing against hers, the strength in his stride as he leads them toward their destination. For once, she finds herself grateful for Gravy's presence; it's strange, unsettling even... but comforting all the same.

She clears her throat awkwardly before speaking up again. "I s'ppose there ain't no point in talkin' about this... y'know, what'll happen and such?" She hopes he doesn't answer; she isn't sure if she can bear to hear the words aloud.

The town Square comes into view ahead of them, its usual bustle replaced by a foreboding silence that hangs heavy in the air. "Right here?" Rose asks hesitantly, swallowing hard as she takes in the scene before her. "You want me to do it right here and now?"

Dusty Rose climbs up onto the gallows' platform, her movements steady and sure despite the thick knot in her throat. She ties the rope securely around her neck before slipping it over her head, adjusting the noose until it rests perfectly beneath her chin. Her fingers tremble as she fumbles with the knot, but she manages to loosen and tighten it several times just to be sure.

"You can let go anytime," Gravy whispers hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart in her ears. She shakes her head slowly, meeting his gaze as bravely as she can manage. "I appreciate you givin' me this chance, sugar... I just hope it was worth it."

Her lips quirk into a small, sad smile. "It wasn't none of my business... what happened back then. And I ain't sayin' I didn't enjoy the ride," she pauses, swallowing hard as tears threaten to spill over. "But it was all a bit much sometimes."

Dusty Rose takes a deep breath, steeling herself against the cold metal of the noose as she wraps the rope around her neck. Her hands tremble slightly, but she refuses to let it show; if there's one thing she knows how to do, it's maintaining her composure. Even now, on the eve of death, she finds a small measure of pride in that fact.

She glances over at Gravy, meeting his gaze evenly as he steps up beside her. His expression is unreadable; maybe he regrets this, maybe he doesn't care. It doesn't really matter anymore anyway. All that matters is the present moment, and the choices she's made that have brought her here.

Her fingers fumble with the knot, jerking it loose and tying it back into a neat bow before reaching for the free end of the rope.

"Well,"

she says with false nonchalance,

"shall we?"

Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, but she pushes through it, determined not to show weakness now, when it counts most.

With shaking hands, she reaches up and slips the noose over her head, adjusting it until it fits snugly around her neck. She pauses, taking another deep breath as she stares at the wood beneath her feet, willing herself to go through with this. The rope digs into her skin, chafing and uncomfortable, but she ignores it; all that matters is the end result.

"Gravy?"

she whispers, her voice barely a breath as he meets her gaze.

"You sure you don't want to... you know, make any deals or somethin'?"

Her fingers flex against the rough wood of the gallows. "I could always

Gravy watches her solemnly, unable to hide his own emotion as he realizes that despite everything, he really will miss this woman. There's something about Dusty Rose that captivates him, draws him in even when he knows better. Maybe it's the way she walks, all swagger and sway; or perhaps it's the teasing glint in her eye when she looks at him.

Whatever it is, there's no denying that she'll leave a hole in his life once she's gone... and he can't help but wonder if filling that void will be nearly as satisfying.

Dusty Rose's world goes black as the rope takes her weight, and for a moment, there's nothing but the sound of her own ragged breath filling her ears. She feels herself slipping away, drifting further and further from consciousness with each passing heartbeat. But even as she fades, she can't help but wonder if maybe... just maybe... Gravy will remember her.

Her body thrashes wildly at first, every muscle tensing in protest as the noose tightens around her neck. But soon enough, the convulsions subside and she hangs limply from the rope, her feet barely scraping the ground beneath her. The world spins dizzyingly around her, the pain growing more intense with each beat of her rapidly failing heart.

As consciousness begins to slip away, one final thought pierces through the haze: she was right about Gravy. He'd be damn good at making deals... and maybe, just maybe, there's a way for them to find their second chance together. But for now, all that remains is darkness, oblivion calling her name with an eerie temptation.

With one final gasp, Dusty Rose gives in, letting go of life as she had so many times before: with style and grace... and a defiant twist of the wrist.

The thought brings a small, sad smile to her lips. No matter how the tale is told, Dusty Rose will always be a part of this town... etched into its very soul. And in some strange, twisted way, that comforts her as she takes her final breath.

Her last words echo in the silence as Dusty Rose's body swings limply from the rope, her once-vibrant form reduced to little more than a grotesque shadow of what she once was. Her head lolls awkwardly to the side, neck bent at an unnatural angle;

Her last breath rattles out through bruised and swollen lips as her body finally gives up its fight, relaxing into a lifeless heap at the end of the rope. Around them, the townspeople watch in solemn silence, hands clasped tightly before them to keep from reaching out in sympathy or revulsion.

She was Dusty Rose; legendary outlaw and lawbreaker extraordinaire. But now, with her life ended and her body finally still, all that remains is the question: what will become of Gravy? Will he be able to find his own peace amidst the ashes of her legacy... or will she somehow manage to haunt him even from beyond the grave?

Her body feels oddly limp and lifeless in his strong arms; almost fragile now that the spark of life has been extinguished. He remembers her vibrant energy, her quick wit, and how she seemed to command attention whenever she walked into a room. Now, as he holds her dead weight, he can't help but feel a sense of loss creep over him - not just for the woman who lay motionless in his embrace, but for the person he might have been had their paths never crossed.

With one final breath that catches in his throat, Sheriff Gravy allows himself to mourn the loss... even as he knows it's only the beginning of a new chapter in this town's history. One filled with the echoes of Dusty Rose's legend and the lasting impression she left upon all who knew her... including him.

Her body feels surprisingly light as it slumps lifeless against his chest; the weight of her death settling like a lead blanket over their shared heartache. He can still feel the warmth radiating from her skin, a testament to how quickly life can be snuffed out, no matter how brightly it burns.

With shaking hands, he lays her gently on the ground, studying her face as if it might hold some clue as to what she was thinking in those final moments. Her expression is peaceful now, almost serene... but there's a hint of mischief in those closed eyes, a spark that refuses to be extinguished even by death itself.

Gravy looks up at the empty gallows, his gaze distant and thoughtful. What would have happened if he hadn't made that fateful choice? Would they have found some way to overcome their pasts together, forge a new life from the ashes of their old one? Or would they simply have repeated history, doomed to repeat the cycle of betrayal and violence until the end of time?

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. There's no use dwelling on such pointless musings now; the damage has been done, and there's no undoing it. All he can do is find some way to move forward... and hope that wherever she is now, Dusty Rose finds peace at last.

Rose's pale skin flushes warmly as the sunlight streams through the window, casting her delicate features in soft gold. Her once-flirtatious gaze has faded now, replaced by an eerie stillness that sends a shiver down Gravy's spine. He can feel her eyes on him, following his every move with unnerving intensity as he meticulously cleans her body, preparing it for the final resting place she so desperately tried to avoid.

Dusty Rose lays still and silent on the bed, her once-vibrant skin now cold and pale. The room feels unnaturally quiet, as if even the air has somehow been drained of life by her absence. Despite being dead, there's an undeniable allure about her; a captivating beauty that seems to permeate every pore of her body.

He studies her features for a long moment, noticing how the light plays across her cheekbones and the arch of her eyebrows. It strikes him that there was something incredibly alive about her even when she was dead; an energy that seemed to fill the room whenever she walked into it. He wonders what would have happened if he'd given in to that attraction, if they had found a way to be together...

Dusty Rose's corpse lies motionless on the bed, her once-perfect features now marred by death's unrelenting touch. The smooth, creamy skin of her breasts and belly, freed at last from their concealment, glow softly in the candlelight as if murmuring a quiet farewell to life itself. Her long limbs sprawl lazily across the mattress, an air of sensuality clinging to them even now that she is but a vessel for mortal remains.

As you undress her, her skin remains smooth and warm to the touch; it's as if she were still alive. You can feel the strength in her limbs, the curves of her body pressing against yours as you move. There's something so intimate about this process, almost... sensual.

Her hair spills out around them like a halo of midnight black silk, tickling your skin and catching on the hairs of your chest in tantalizing little tugs. You pause for a moment, just breathing her in - the scent of her shampoo, the faint hint of whiskey on her breath...

Her lips part slightly as you lean down to kiss them one last time before starting the embalming process. It feels strange, wanting to honor this dead woman's body like this, but there's no denying that some part of you finds comfort in it too. In remembering Dusty Rose not just for who she was or what she did, but for how she made you feel.

You close your eyes and take a steadying breath, preparing to perform the ritual as tradition dictates. Her soft flesh beneath your hands feels almost... precious now; like it deserves more than just six feet of dirt to keep it company until the end of time.

Her breasts stand tall and proud, nipples hardening into tight buds despite the chill air. The sight of them makes Gravy's mouth water, igniting a fire in his loins that threatens to consume him whole. His hands tremble as he runs them up and down her smooth skin, tracing lines and curves that feel so familiar even now, under these unnatural circumstances.