Chapter Text
‘ What, the actual fuck!?’
It took Adora’s brain a few seconds to catch up to what was happening, as her body instinctually tried to do two things at once. The finger on the hammer of her revolver yanked back the spurred firing pin with a click in response to Catra’s sudden movement, whilst her other hand shot up and eagerly threaded into the Magicat’s short mane of hair as Adora mindlessly deepened the kiss.
When Catra’s mouth easily opened to let her in Adora’s mind took a back seat as their tongues began dancing, the sudden deluge of years of repressed desire spilling forth and drowning out the frantic voice of reason that was screaming at her to back away and out of danger. This was a moment that Adora had spent so many nights dreaming of, and then just as many trying to forget. The only woman she had ever loved was now fighting her tongue for dominance, squirming desperately underneath her, unable to reach out touch Adora like she probably wanted thanks to her bound wrists, as Adora had at some point climbed into the Magicat’s lap, desperate to close the distance between them further.
Catra had kissed her?
Catra was kissing her!?
Adora didn’t understand it, the order of events seeming incongruous. But then again, when did love ever make sense, or follow rhyme or reason. Catra had shot her, nearly killed her, but she still craved this contact, needed it like a traveller lost in a vast dessert searching for a glass of water. Instead she had found a river, roaring and dangerous, threatening to sweep her away in its strong current. But Adora wanted to be dragged under, to leap in and never surface again so that she could drink from its cool depths until she was full.
However, there was a hole in her chest making itself known. It still ached and itched like a wound not properly heeled, perhaps sensing the presence of the one who made it. A twinge of pain followed by a flash of a face, half clouded in gun smoke, blue and gold eyes staring straight through her. It had been a while since Adora had actively thought of that moment. In her dreams, her nightmares really, it was a common feature that always jolted her from her slumber with a scream. But in those, Catra’s face had always been twisted with anger and hatred, eyes determined and hard. Perhaps her memory of that moment had become warped over time, because in that brief flash Catra hadn’t looked at her with malice, she’d looked… scared.
Regardless, the twinge of pain from her old bullet wound was enough for Adora to regain her senses, and she tore her mouth away from Catra’s and fell jerkily out of the Magicat’s lap into the dirt. She quickly scrambled back, trying to put her iron and as much distance as possible between her and the apparently magnetic Magicat’s lips.
“What the fuck, Catra!” Exclaimed Adora, breathing hard as she tried to force herself not to think about the kiss and how much she wished she was still doing it.
Catra, for her part, looked surprisingly dazed, though a faint smirk still pulled up the right corner of her mouth to reveal a razor sharp fang. “Not quite, Princess. Though you definitely got to second base I think, got a little handsy there!” She snickered, her tail weaving smugly behind her, her previous nervousness apparently having evaporated.
Adora scowled at the use of Catra’s old nickname for her as she picked herself up off the ground. It smacked of a familiarity they no longer had, even if she now knew what Catra tasted like. “I’m not in the mood for games, Miss Meow-Meow!” Bit back Adora, revelling slightly at the way Catra’s chuckling suddenly cut off abruptly at her the mention of her last names. Clearly this had been some sort of… intimidation tactic, designed to knock her off balance and put her off her game. Yeah… that was the best explanation. Any other reason she could think of felt dangerous. “You are gonna stow your bullshit whilst we ride into Brightmoon, make my life easy or else I’ll happily let Micah hang you!”
“Oh how gracious of you, Adora! Save me from one noose so that you can personally rope another around my neck?” Sneered Catra, as she lounged lazily against the tree looking pleased with herself. “Will I get another tree or will I have a nice scaffold with a fancy trapdoor to break my neck?”
Immediately realising that arguing with the Magicat wasn’t getting her anywhere, and that continuing the conversation likely meant addressing the torrent of emotions battling inside her chest, Adora huffed and turned back to Swift Wind, walking over to her horse and pulling out her lasso. Turning back towards Catra, Adora was surprised to see the feline go white under her fur. It took a solid second for Adora to understand the panic suddenly sweeping across the Magicat’s face, following her eye line to the rope in her hands.
“Oh, err- this is to retrieve your horse!” Rushed out Adora, appalled that the Magicat seemed to think her petty enough to string her up in response to a few harsh words. “I-I assumed you didn’t want to ride these nasty nags?” She said, gesturing to the now scattered horses of the posse who’d tried to hang Catra.
Coughing to cover her discomfort at being called out, Catra scowled up at Adora before jerking her head towards Lashore and his men’s bodies. “Well in that case Princess, can you get the rest of my stuff? Fuckers took my hat and my shootin irons ‘as compensation’,” she sneered derisively, spitting towards the corpses.
Sighing heavily, Adora glanced over to the corpses she’d created and began making her way over to them, not looking forward to rooting around dead people stuff. “Who took what?” She asked, because it had been a minute since she’d last seen Catra. She’d changed a lot since Adora had last laid eyes on her, the Magicat having grown into adulthood rather well. She was still the lean and lethal looking predator she had been back when Adora had known her, however her muscles were now more defined and it looked like at some point she’d started eating properly, no longer as gaunt as she once had been. Overall Catra looked agonizingly good, rocking a black snakeskin boots and dark wool poncho combo that shouldn’t work for the Magicat as well as it did. And her annoying cockiness that had always somehow managed to make Adora’s knees weak seemed to have only gotten worse.
“Lashore- the dumb one who was in charge- took my guns, and idiot number three in the blue vest has my hat. Doesn’t even have my fuckin ears, so no idea why he took it!” Grumbled the Magicat, sulking slightly, probably because she’d allowed these fools to get the jump on her. The Catra Adora knew- had known would’ve been fucking livid about being one upped by cattle trash.
Adora found her hat first, easily identifiable by the two earholes cut through the brim for the Magicat’s ears to poke through. An unsurprisingly black telescope hat, with a wide flat brim, and a patterned band circling the crown that likely symbolised the Magicat’s Mexican origins. The band looked knew, probably because it was, as Weaver wouldn’t have stood for anything so ‘un-American’ within the ranks of the Horde.
The guns Adora found next, her breath catching at the sight of them hanging from Catra’s familiar silver studded black leather gun belt that was currently buckled around the lizardfolks corpse. Catra’s two pearl handled pistols sat unused in their holsters, Lashore never having lived long enough to even draw them.
Adora winced as she gazed down at the body beneath her, wondering if Catra had even remembered that these were the pistols that she had almost killed her with. She probably had, given that Catra tended to put more meaning to such objects than Adora. To the Marshal her Peacemaker was a tool, a thing to be well maintained and cared for out of necessity, but never cherished. Catra on the other hand had always prised her two pistols, being easily the most expensive things she owned. Twin pearl handled Colt Navy revolvers, with a dark blued nickle finish, decorated with silver inlay; the guns of a consummate duellist who wanted all who saw them to know of their trade. She’d saved up her measly horde pay-outs for years to be able to afford these things, viewing them as a sign that she was truly starting to move up in the ranks when she could afford them.
Not really understanding why she was taking them, Catra wasn’t exactly going to need them after all, Adora tucked the two colts safely away in her saddle bags before wandering back over to Catra and returning her hat. After that it didn’t take long for her to corral the Magicat’s horse, saddle Catra up and securely tying her to its pommel, before beginning to head back towards Brightmoon, leading the second horse behind her. It wasn’t a long journey; if they didn’t dawdle they should be back in town before nightfall and if she was lucky she’d be able to catch Spinny or Netossa in town and tell them what happened to their cattle.
It might have even been a pleasant ride home. But predictably, Catra didn’t come quietly.
“You named your horse Swiftwind?!”
“Couldn’t you find a bigger hat to cover your barn door of a forehead?”
“You still hiding that stupid hair poof under that thing?”
“Who taught you how to use your tongue, Princess?”
“Do you still snore like a broken steam engine?”
Quite frankly, by the time they had exited the valley, Adora really wanted to pull her rifle from her saddle and shoot her ex-best friend.
“Oh my God, will you shut the fuck up, Catra!” Exclaimed Adora eventually, unable to bear another hour of the incessant yammering after the bandit asked what felt like her two hundredth question. Muttering quietly under her breath, “jeez, I don’t remember you being this annoying!”
“It was an innocent question Adora,” smirked Catra, a devilish grin on her face.
“You asked me if my bustier matched my drawers!”
“Well, do they? Because the red really piqued my curiosity, Princess!” Snickered Catra, clearly enjoying flustering her captor, who was indeed wearing a red bustier thanks to all her plain ones being in the wash. They’d been a gift from her friend Glimmer that she rarely wore, not believing there was much point in having something so garish that no one would ever see.
For a split second Adora considered telling the Magicat she wasn’t wearing any drawers, just to see what her reaction would be. However the Marshal realised that might probably be dangerously close to flirting, and she’d already gotten far too caught up with the Magicats magnetic charm once today already. “That’s really none of your business, Catra,” she snapped, sweeping the new valley around them with her eyes, catching a tell-tale plume of dust rising to the west of them.
“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours, Princess!” Purred the Magicat cheekily, batting her eyelashes suggestively.
Ignoring her prisoner, Adora reached into her saddlebags and pulled out a pair of binoculars, using them to get a better read on whoever was headed towards them. “Huh… remind me again who you robbed?”
“I didn’t rob anybody,” answered Catra automatically, apparently having already forgotten her earlier confession.
“So the hundred and fifty thousand dollars you buried in that cemetery just appeared out of thin air?”
“No, ‘I’ didn’t steal that, Grizzalor did, remember?” Huffed Catra, rolling her eyes. “I simply liberated it to be put towards a better cause.”
“Oh, my apologies for offending your noble intentions.” Snorted Adora, not bothering to look at the Magicat’s likely insufferable expression. “Who did Grizzalor steal it from?”
“He robbed an Army supply train carrying a pay chest headed to Fort Seaworthy, why?”
“Remind me which regiment operates of Fort Seaworthy?”
“Err, Seventh Cavalry?”
“Hmm, that probably explains why they all look so pissed…” Responded Adora dryly, focussing her binoculars on the guidon flag being carried by one of the lead horseman, the Seventh’s insignia clear as day.
“Wait- what?” Sputtered Catra, suddenly looking very apprehensive.
“Yup, that’s the seventh cavalry alright, though only a company of them I think. The rest must be out searching back east for their money,” mused Adora, stowing her binoculars and shifting in her saddle to get comfortable.
“A-Adora, I love you and I always have!” Blurted Catra suddenly, earning herself a raised eyebrow from Adora. “Don’t hand me over to them. I didn’t even steal their money!”
“You’ll really say anything to save your neck, huh,” snorted Adora, settling back into her saddle and making no move to urge her horse forward, keeping her eyes fixed on the approaching soldiers, content to just sit and wait. Though content was perhaps the wrong word. Catra really was fucking with her heart strings today, every one of them thrumming after hearing those three words leave the Magicat’s mouth, the ones she’d always wanted to hear her friend say. To hear them said so disingenuously twisted her gut something awful.
“Please, Adora!”
That got the Marshal to turn in her saddle to regard the criminal behind her, doing her best to not react to the somewhat stricken expression on Catra’s face. “Wow, ‘sorry’ and ‘please’ all in the same day, Catra! You must really be desperate.”
“I’m not lying, Adora. I-I don’t just say stuff like that unless I mean them.” Winced the Magicat, shifting uncomfortably in her horse’s saddle, her bindings likely pinching her fur unpleasantly.
“Maybe the old Catra wouldn’t have, but I don’t know you. Especially considering the fact that last time I saw you I got a bullet through my h- chest! So excuse me if I don’t believe a single goddamn thing that comes out of your mouth Cat.” Retorted Adora harshly, forcing herself not to react to the flash of pain that danced across Catra’s face at her words. “Besides, if we run now it’ll look suspicious and unlike you, I’m not a wanted felon with a ten thousand dollar bounty. I have nothing to hide.”
Mentally slapping herself, Adora spun back to face forward in her saddle, hoping that the Magicat didn’t notice her slip up. Adora had no business knowing what Catra’s bounty was, especially considering all the warrants for her arrest were from two states over, way out of her current jurisdiction. Knowing the Magicat’s dollar value was tantamount to admitting she’d kept tabs on her.
Fortunately Catra seemed to be too nervous to notice her slip, making no further comment as the Cavalry rounded the next hill and made a beeline towards them. As they made their final approach, Adora suddenly twisted back around and locked eyes with the Magicat. “Keep your mouth shut, ok?” She hissed, unsure why she was even telling her old friend. “Let me do the talking!”
To her relief the startled Magicat slowly nodded, her panicked eyes flickering between Adora’s and the oncoming soldiers. Catra had a… disregard for authority that bordered on suicidal. Assuming she hadn’t grown out of her rebellious phase of course; which Adora felt to be unlikely. Give her a figure of authority and she would usually challenge them, loudly and with gusto. Unfortunately, Adora had had a few run-ins with the Seventh Cavalry over the years, given that they were the local garrison in this territory. They were mean, brutal, and quite frankly a bunch of assholes who were more concerned with hassling the local native population than actually defending any of the settlements they were tasked with protecting from those they provoked.
Doing her best to look unruffled, Adora raised a hand in greeting as the lead horsewoman reined her horse in and signalled for her company to halt. Adora immediately recognised the leader, the purple skinned woman being a regular visitor to her office in Brightmoon’s courthouse. Captain Huntara wasn’t necessarily a bad person, being a little less… enthusiastic about clearing the natives off of their land than some of her peers, but that was hardly a high bar as far as the Seventh were concerned. She also was somewhat enamoured with the Marshal, insisting on dropping by whenever she was in town. Advances that Adora generally didn’t encourage, but tolerated because she was too polite to turn the Army officer down.
“Marshal Grey! Ain’t you a pleasant surprise!” Called Huntara, giving Adora a wide smile before removing her hat to wipe the sweat from her brow and beat some of the dust from her blue uniform.
“Captain,” greeted Adora stiffly, well aware that Catra was watching her like a hawk from her position over Adora’s shoulder. “What brings you this far west? I thought the Indian’s were making trouble further north?” Adora had no idea if that was true, but she always did her small part to try and draw some of the heat away from the local natives that lived in the vicinity of Brightmoon. She and the townsfolk had cordial relations with them these days, and were happy to coexist with them as much as possible. The Army however took their orders from Washington, where ‘Indian’s’ were markers on a map rather than people, to be forcefully corralled into smaller and smaller reservations; they didn’t know how to just let things be.
“Haven’t you heard? Someone raided our pay chest off a train headed to Fort Seaworthy!” Scowled Huntara, replacing her hat and trotting her horse up alongside Swiftwind, side-eying Catra as she approached.
Adora let out a low whistle that she hoped sounded like genuine surprise. “Straight off an Army supply train? Surely that was well guarded?”
“It was.” Replied Huntara sadly, her eyes clouding slightly. “Sixty soldiers, all massacred down to the last man and woman.”
“Dear Lord,” gasped Adora, resisting the urge to glance back at Catra to gauge her reaction. If that was true, Catra hadn’t been lying about how large the Horde had gotten. Taking on a full company of army soldiers and winning would make them practically a militia rather than some jumped up gang of cowpokes.
“Yeah, I hadn’t seen anything like that since… well, since The War,” muttered Huntara, looking haunted. “I mean, the train looked like it’d been hit by artillery for God’s sake. Seemed most of them died before they even got to their weapons! Who would even do something like that?”
Pausing for a second to decide how much to tell the Captain, not wanting to expose both Catra and her previous affiliation to the Horde (she’d left a long time ago, but she still didn’t think it wise to advertise that fact). “I heard of one outfit making moves like that, or at least making noise about wanting to?” She started slowly, choosing her words carefully.
“Any leads would be helpful at this point, blondie. We’ve been chasing our tails for weeks.”
“They called themselves the Horde? Their leadership were former Reb’s if memory serves correctly.”
“Hmm, that can’t be right…” replied Huntara, frowning and shaking her head quickly. “The only Horde I know of is a private militia up north that’s being paid by the governor to assist us with clearing the Sioux onto the new reservation.”
Adora fought hard to keep her expression neutral at that titbit of information. Who in their right mind would’ve used government funds to pay for an organisation that was clearly anti-union? “Governor Hope is paying for a private militia?!” Exclaimed Adora, unable to hide her incredulity. Fortunately her disbelief in this instance was warranted. Governor Light Hope was legendarily stingy with the public purse strings, always wanting to “bring balance” to the territory’s accounts. The idea of her springing for a whole militia was laughable.
“Hmm? Oh, no not Hope. Governor Prime, back in Nevada.”
It took everything Adora had not to react to that, internally screaming ‘what the fuck!’ on a loop for a solid four seconds behind her carefully blank expression. Catra on the other hand broke out into a full blown coughing fit, the news apparently being a revelation to her also. Who in their right mind had thought that former Confederate Colonel Magnus Prime was a sensible pick for governor of a U.S state!?
“Who’s the kitty?” Asked Huntara, casting an eye at the feline tied to her saddle behind Adora who’d now attracted her attention.
“This is- Gladys Moonfoot,” lied Adora, wincing internally at her poor name choice.
“Uhuh, and what did ‘Gladys’ do to earn herself the honour of being hunted down by ‘She-Ra’?” Snorted Huntara, turning her attention back to the Marshal who grimaced.
“Wait- you’re She-Ra!?” Exclaimed Catra loudly, who was apparently unable to follow an instruction for once in her damn life. Adora shot a warning glare at the Magicat, but once opened her jaw just kept on flapping. “The fastest gun west of civilisation?”
Adora really didn’t like the nickname the newspapers had decided to slap her with, as it smacked of a vanity that she didn’t have. Unlike some lawmen, she didn’t feel the need to sensationalise herself or her exploits. For instance, fame is what really killed Wild Bill Hickok in the end, as eventually his infamy as a gunslinger got so great that every fool on the frontier with an iron was gunning for him, wanting to test their mettle against his draw. It had only been a matter of time before someone decided to not face him fair and put a bullet in the back of his skull.
“That’s right, Kitty! You’ve been captured by a genuine frontier celebrity, so don’t fuck around or else she’ll drop you faster than a rattlesnake!”
“She’s arrested under suspicion of horse theft,” Interjected Adora grumpily, hoping to head off this particular line of enquiry, hating talk about herself, good or otherwise. She was faster than most with a pistol, but that was hardly a cause for celebration. People glorified killing folk far too much in Adora’s opinion; life wasn’t nearly as cheap as some seemed to think it was, the price always weighed heavy on her shoulders.
“Hah, that’s all they got you dealing with these days Marshal? What a waste of your talents! Those ‘fast hands’ of yours would be much better utilised in the service of the United States government instead of chasing horse thieves stealing cheap nags!” Husked Huntara, her eyes sweeping up and down Adora far more intently than could be considered polite, the Captain’s poorly concealed double-entendre about as subtle as a steam locomotive crashing through a china shop.
Adora suppressed another grimace, hoping her distaste didn’t show on her face. She didn’t want to offend the Captain, as she wasn’t that bad a person per say. But Huntara couldn’t spot a hint even if it punched her in the bosom, and had been pursuing Adora for quite a while now despite any real reciprocation on the Marshals part. It had gotten a little old a while ago now. “I already work for the government, Captain. I’m a U.S. Marshal remember?”
“Naw, you know what I mean blondie! Join us boys and girls in blue and continue the civilisation of these territories. You’d look good in uniform, if I don’t say so myself!” Cheered Huntara, in what Adora guessed was supposed to be a flirtatious tone.
Behind her, Adora heard a stifled snort emanating from her prisoner. Catra knew damn well that if Adora had ever come close to donning a uniform it would’ve been grey, back before she’d finally seen through all of the Hordes bullshit, not that she’d ever truly believed it. It always caused Adora to wince whenever she thought about her days in their old outfit, the things she believed and said back then. Nowadays the idea of joining any army was unthinkable. She’d much rather help people, and bring bad folks to justice. She very much doubted she could do that in a cavalry regiment.
“Unfortunately Captain, I think I’ll pass,” smiled Adora, hoping it didn’t look too forced. “Now, my apologies, but I am hoping to make Brightmoon before sundown so I must be going, Captain.”
“Ah, of course. I won’t keep you any longer, Marshal,” grinned Huntara, seemingly expecting this answer. However her smile suddenly dropped, replaced with a more uncertain expression before she leaned in and lowered her voice so that only Adora could hear. “If it pleases you, Adora, I was wondering if- if you would like if I visited you next time I’m in Brightmoon? It won’t be for a while, we are heading north in search of our stolen pay chest, but next time I’m in town?”
Adora blinked in surprise at the Captain’s words, the big cavalry commander looking the most uncertain she’d ever seen her. Huntara had never been subtle about her attraction towards Adora, the Captain more often than not openly leered at her whenever they met. However this was the closest she’d ever come to actually propositioning her.
Adora knew that she really should say no. She wasn’t attracted to Huntara and she disliked her occupation even more. However, despite her profession, Adora hated confrontation in her personal life. And she really hated the idea of disappointing a friend so… would it really be that bad to entertain the Captain for one- Why is Catra growling?
“Oh for fuck’s sake, She-Ra! Either take me to Brightmoon or shoot me now because I am bored out of my mind waitin here!” Grumbled the Magicat loudly, scowling at the back of her horses head.
Huntara grimaced at the interruption, turning to glare at the prisoner, her hand resting on her pistol. “That can easily be arranged, Kitty!” She spat, narrowing her eyes at Catra menacingly.
“Please don’t shoot my prisoner, Captain,” sighed Adora, inwardly relieved that the officer had been distracted. “You’d be surprised how much paperwork is involved with bringing in a corpse for a bounty.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t, Blondie,” muttered the Captain, her eyes hard. This was most of the reason Adora could never see herself with Huntara. Given the opportunity her rules, the supposed codes of honour or chivalry she learned back at West Point, flew out the window whenever it was convenient. It always made her wonder how many of the supposed ‘battles’ the army fought against the Indians were actually justified.
Glancing back at Catra, Adora was unsurprised to find the Magicat staring at Huntara with her trademark smirk/bitch-face. Was the felon actively trying to provoke a slightly unhinged army captain whilst she was unarmed and tied to her saddle? Yes. Was this completely in character for the woman she’d known all those years ago? Also yes.
Adora narrowed her eyes at Catra, wondering why the feline thought it was a good idea to poke this particular bear. She didn’t think that Adora would back her up did she? If she did she’d have to be insane. Adora was good but she wasn’t suicidal. She only had five rounds in her pistol, plus a further ten in the rifle holstered in her saddle, so she’d run out of bullets long before Huntara ran out of men. Not that she’d ever even consider drawing on the army. That would be foolish. Even for Catra.
“Jesus, either shoot me or don’t, I don’t have all day!” Huffed Catra, rolling her eyes and blowing out a bored sigh.
Huntara snorted, unimpressed, before popping the flap on her holster and moving to draw her revolver. Quickly making a decision, Adora’s hand snapped out and gripped the Captain’s wrist, staying her hand. This was swiftly followed by the sound of a dozen ominous clicks sounding out from behind Huntara, as all of the front rank of her company drew and cocked their rifles, levelling them at Adora.
Ignoring the weapons aimed at her, though without any more sudden movements, Adora gave Huntara a flat look. “Captain, I’d really rather you didn’t. I’m not even a hundred percent sure this is my guy and I’d rather not hand Judge Micah the wrong corpse! If she’s the one I’m looking for then she’ll hang anyway, and if not, having a smart mouth isn’t a crime.”
“Micah aint a hanging judge though, he don’t like using the rope. We could take her to Fort Seaworthy, where I’m sure the colonel will try her fair!”
“We have a witness is in Brightmoon,” lied Adora quickly, her mind moving a mile a minute to try and figure a way to diffuse the situation. “They can identify the thief and will know if C-Gladys is guilty.”
After a tense moment, Huntara’s eyes softened and her hand left her pistol, allowing Adora to release the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “I don’t know how you deal with all that lip, Marshal,” she grumbled, irritably waving at her soldiers to stand at easy and lower their weapons. “Sorry about them, they are a little jumpy these days, what with their pay being robbed from under their noses.”
“Don’t worry about it, Captain. I understand things are a little tense at the moment,” shrugged Adora, trying to appear nonchalant, letting go of Huntara’s wrist and slowly leaning back into her saddle. “And also, you haven’t been dealing with her bullshit for the last forty miles. I’d gag her if I didn’t know she could bite through it. What I wouldn’t give for a way to shut her up!”
“I could think of a one way, princess!” Whispered Catra lowly, so that only Adora would hear. Honestly, Adora had no idea why she was helping her.
Desperately praying that Huntara would attribute her blush to the heat, Adora sighed and patted her thighs awkwardly, shifting in her saddle restlessly. “Well, I think I best be going, Captain!” She exclaimed suddenly, hoping she didn’t sound too forced. “A hot meal and my bed are calling to me!”
“I- of course, I won’t keep you any longer,” nodded Huntara awkwardly, likely figuring that her soldiers drawing on the Marshal had probably killed her chances, in the short term at least. “We could escort you into town if you’d like?” She asked hopefully, gesturing in the direction of Brightmoon.
“Err- no thankyou Captain, I’ve got it from here,” replied Adora stiffly, ignoring both Catra’s poorly stifled snicker and the winces of the soldiers behind Huntara, everyone clearly understanding the dismissal for what it was. “Good-day,” she said finally, tipping her hat to the Captain and kicking Swiftwind into a trot, nodding to the other soldiers as she passed leading Catra’s horse behind her.
“Jesus, Catra!” She hissed once they were out of earshot of the company, glancing angrily back at the Magicat who had the gall to look smug. “Do you have a death wish or something?”
“Oh don’t give me that Princess!” Smirked Catra, her tail weaving playfully behind her. “You didn’t want to accept that idiot inviting herself over for ‘tea and biscuits’. You were just too polite to turn her down, like a goober! I saved you from a wasted evening with a woman you clearly weren’t interested in. She wasn’t even your type, Adora!”
“So you risked getting your head blown off by the Army because you were what? Defending my honour?!” Retorted Adora, wondering how the hell the Magicat knew what her type was after all these years.
“Someone had to! You clearly would’ve suffered through what I’m assuming was gonna be extremely sub-par sex and then get married because you were too polite to say no!” Shot back Catra, now fully laughing at the Marshal. “Straight people have more than enough loveless marriages to go around without your stupid ass getting involved, Princess!”
“I- I wouldn’t have slept with her!” Exclaimed Adora indignantly, momentarily forgetting not to take the bait from her former best friend. “I’m no ‘loose woman’, Catra!”
“Ooh, you still spouting that bullshit Shadow taught you about ‘womanliness’? Please tell me you’ve gotten laid since I last saw you, or is your vagina gonna creak like a rusty saloon door when I get down there?”
“Wha- you are not getting anywhere near my- my- personals, Catra!” Spluttered Adora, her mouth going mysteriously dry all of a sudden, her face heating up something fierce as it did so.
“Oh please, Adora. We both know that it’s only a matter of time now after this morning!” Grinned Catra, looking entirely too confident about that fact, and giving Adora an intense look that could only be described as predatory.
“You are currently tied to your saddle and on your way to jail, Catra. I don’t think there’s gonna be much opportunity for what your vivid imagination is conjuring up.”
“You mean these old things?” Simpered Catra, motioning towards her bindings and lowering her voice seductively. “Well, luckily for you, I’m into this shit! So why don’t you stop denying what you want for once and come over here and show me what a big strong Marshal you really are!” She said, accentuating the end of her sentence with a highly suggestive series of hip rolls into her saddle that did not cause Adora’s heart to begin galloping in her chest.
After a brief second of being very jealous of Catra’s horse, Adora forcibly snapped her gaze back forward and did her best to ignore the sudden string of absolutely filthy words now spilling out of the Magicat’s mouth. After a long exhale that was a mostly futile to calm herself, she kicked Swiftwind into a faster trot and did her best to resist the urge to scream.
It was going to be a long ride back to Brightmoon.