The back of the bar at the Busted Knuckle was a colorful array (or disarray) of neon colored concert flyers, legal tender from various realms, a pastel yellow tie smattered with frogs in mid-hop, posters advertising various brews, mardi gras beads hanging from fixtures, and a big bold sign that read, "Liquor in the front, Poker in the rear". However, no matter how hard Colt attempted to lose himself in the dizzying display as he sat at the bar with a short stumpy glass of whiskey before him, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation at the table behind him.

Had it been a night of live music, the discussion most certainly would have been drowned out but the thumping beat of the jukebox failed to completely hide the words being spoken.

"That Allie Dee has the nicest rack this side of Marketplace." One of the drunken potbellied ship builders at the table declared sagely after Allie Dee had set down another pitcher in the center of their table and then headed off to put in their order of jalapeno poppers.

One of his cohorts gave an overly loud guffaw. "Well, wait until you see Jackie. Girl's got the finest ass in the joint. Shapely."

It shouldn't have been enough to spark violence out of him. A sharp remark? Sure. But even he knew better than to start a fight with patrons who made relatively harmless comments. It typically wasn't until body parts were smacked, grabbed, or pinched that he lost his temper. Tonight, though, the live wire that was his temper wasn't protected by its usual encasing. It was loose, jumping wildly at the slightest provocation. The comment served as an unexpected spark and immediately Colt was on his feet to face the trio at the table.

"Have a little bit of respect, man!" Colt's growl was low and dangerously on edge.

A particularly hairy man at the table sprung to his feet at the scent of a fight while the other two sat in wide-eyed silence. Yet, even though he was the largest, he was still badly outmatched by his broader, more sober opponent. In fact, the hairy one may well have been the least sober at the table and perhaps that is what caused him to go nose to nose with the rather irate growler without any real idea what had sent Colt swiveling on their table. "What the hell're you talking about?"

Colt reached up a single hand, shoving it squarely in the hairy man's chest sending him stumbling back a step. "Keep your boozed up bad breath off me and shut your god damn trap 'bout my sister 'fore I beat you into the floor."

A slur of incoherent words slid free of the drunk as he launched himself towards Colt who settled in to prepare himself for the fight. Before any punches could land, a massive immoveable wall was suddenly between them. The hairy drunk bounced off the stretch of black fabric that covered the half-orc bouncer's chest before he clattered to the ground. "No fighting," the bouncer demanded in a grumble while shooting a frown over his shoulder at Colt that sang of his disappointment in him.

Before another growl could erupt from Colt, an unyielding hand landed around his bicep, pulling him backwards. He let his eyes shift towards the owner of the hand long enough to catch the hard, set lines of Allie Dee's face. There were no words spoken. His sister's coworker simply yanked him towards the break in the bar. Maybe subconsciously he knew it was for the best because he didn't grind his heels in and refuse to move. Instead, he let her lead him out of the chaos of the bar and into the kitchen before reaching up a hand too try to peel her fingers off of his arm. "C'mon, Allie Dee. Let go. I'll finish my drink and head home."

"Save it for somebody who'll buy it, shit head. You been sittin' at that bar for an hour just sulkin' and lookin' for a fight. If I let you go, you're just gonna march your stupid ass on to another bar and accost their payin' customers."

Suddenly, Allie Dee's fingers released his arm and he crossed his arms over his chest to frown down at her. However, before he could come up with a biting retort, she reached out to open the door to the walk in fridge. Then both hands lifted to give Colt a good strong shove just above those crossed arms. With all of her power behind the unexpected move, she managed to make him stumble back a couple steps. Just enough.

Just enough, that is, to close the door, effectively locking Colt into the walk-in fridge. A fist reached up to knock firmly on the heavy door. "Not funny, Allie Dee! Let me out!"

"Your sister's shift starts in fifteen minutes, moron. I recommend jumping jacks."

Colt couldn't help notice once he was back at a stool at the bar that the noise had dimmed down in his absence. The three drunks had paid their bill and wandered out to sleep off the alcohol they'd ingested after leaving Allie Dee a tip appropriate enough for having the best rack in town. Even the jukebox seemed to be keyed up to slower tempo songs. He spread his palm out wide over a knot in the wood of the battered bar while Jackie made coffee. He didn't bother mentioning that he'd rather have beer. It was quite clear that he had been cut off.

"I really don't need your advice." It was half-hearted because they both knew it was untrue. Yes, he didn't want to burden her so soon after her divorce. Yes, he didn't want to take advice from his little sister. Yes, he didn't want to have to admit what was on his mind. But, no, it certainly wasn't that he didn't need advice.

Jackie was busy pouring a mug of the freshly brewed coffee for Colton and for a moment it might have seemed like she didn't hear him. The mug was set down in front of him, the pot was returned to its rightful place behind the bar, and a container of sugar was plunked down next to his mug. Once that was all done she finally stopped and folded her arms over the counter between them, giving him a look that made it clear she wasn't taking no for an answer. "Come correct, Colt. Yah don't want my advice. Yah always made funa the guys that settle themselves in front of me with a drink an' go on 'bout what's wrong with 'em. But it don't mean yah don't need my advice." She blew on her nails, letting a little smile shine through now. "'Sides, you know everyone says I'm onea the best bartenders fer passin' out advice. Can't help m'self worth a damn, but I can help others."

Colt stared down the mug of coffee and the sugar for a long moment, resisting the temptation as he resisted the temptation for the advice. Eventually, though, he broke and went about dumping far too much sugar into the coffee. It was the off season. He could eat whatever he wanted. He'd be paying for it in a couple months but, for now, he'd use as much sugar as he wanted. The movement helped spur his ability to speak. "I'm takin' Ten out of town. And... and there was somethin' I was gonna tell her. Amthy thought it was the right thing. I thought it was the right thing. But now? Now I don't think it is. I don't think I'm gonna do it."

She was patient and made no movement to rush him into spilling his guts. Jackie was abundantly confident that it would all come out sooner than later. Her attention slid along to the others at the bar while Colt seemed to silently ponder. By time she had plucked a beer from the fridge, popped the top, and sent it sliding to an older man hunched over the bar a ways down Colt was steadily confessing his issues. Well, to a point. Of course he was going to be vague about it. Why would she expect anything less?

"I've heard that floatin' 'round 'tween you two, the goin' outta town thing. I think it'll be good fer the both of yah." Her brows furrowed. "But whatcha lookin' to tell her? Or maybe, maybe not tell her? If yah thought it was right off the rip than it more than likely is, yer jus' given yerself too much time tah talk yerself outta it." She paused, realizing he didn't actually explain what that certain something was. "Are you gonna tell her 'bout..." She didn't want to say it out loud. It was something he had told her and it wasn't meant to be heard by prying ears lingering around the Busted Knuckle. So, she tapped her finger to the side of her nose, hoping he would get the picture.

It seemed he did get the idea because when she tapped her nose, a warm laugh escaped him. Colt had hid his heightened sense of smell, the ability to read energy trails in the air for so many years and, in the end, Jackie had accepted it. In fact, she barely batted an eye over the news. Certainly, though, the past couple of months in RhyDin had to have opened her mind to the supernatural. "No. She already knows."

The laughter, his good humor, the warmth in his smile faded away, leaving only the anxiety once more. "I was gonna tell her... y'know... how I feel 'bout her."

Her smile grew at the laugh. Even when Colt and Jackie were dealing with serious topics, it was all so much easier to handle when they were smiling through it. Anything else felt out of place and unlike them.

His news of his special abilities was something Jackie curiously pondered over these days when she had some down time, but it was nothing she would ever hold against him. It was only now that so many things in their life made much more sense. When Jackie tossed one of her fits growing up, she would declare she was running away forever. Often times she barely went further than the shed. But during those rare occasions when she got bold enough to go to the watering hole or find a particular tree in the woods she would call home from then on out, it was Colt who always found her. She had always figured it was because he was the one most determined out of her brothers to find her, but now she realized there was more to it. Now it was because he wanted to find her and because he was the most capable. Well, considering he was the one who tracked her to RhyDin it appeared nothing had changed.

Jackie's expression softened to match Colton's, brows knitting together in concentration. "What d'yah mean how yah feel 'bout her? I mean, yer goin' 'way with her. Havin' her mean the family, Lord have mercy on her. What more d'yah gotta tell her 'bout how yah feel-" The words came to a sudden halt and she was left blinking. This was never something she had heard from her brother. Sure, there were countless other men who had lamented to her about the same problem, but Colton Nash Daniels had not ever been one she would imagine sitting in front of her having this conversation. She found her words, approaching them carefully. "Colt, do you... love Ten?"

Colt had never had a problem running after Jackie. He'd never minded sitting on the edge of Lick Log Creek on a crisp early fall afternoon dipping his heels into the chilly bubbling water as he listened to Jackie complain about life with the whole lot of them. She never failed to be entertaining with her rants and, while he wouldn't admit it to her, she was usually pretty dead on. He'd always been closest with Jackie which was a fact that his older and younger brother had never let him live down. However, Jackie was the one who teased playfully, never cruelly, and understood just how easy it was to trample on her middle brother's feelings. Therefore, when he finally gained the courage to have the discussion, it was no surprise that she was the first of his family that he had it with.

He felt the familiar twist of his stomach as the word was uttered. Maybe if he just talked about it enough, he would get desensitized to it. Then maybe it would be easier to finally say it aloud himself. A gut feeling told him that was a pipe dream.

"Yeah. Yeah, I love her."

Her brother's hesitation made Jackie pause. It seemed almost difficult for him to say and she couldn't for the life of her remember him ever uttering those words about anyone that wasn't kin before. She was focused on his problem, but it was impossible for her to not briefly shine a light of realization on herself. She was always so free with the word, love. She gave it so openly and easily. Is this how it was supposed to be when you really did love someone? Was it supposed to get lodged in your throat with emotion and worry that the other person not feel the same?

She shook her head, rattling the thoughts loose so she could focus on Colton and Ten. "If yah love her, then yah gotta tell her, Colt. I can't fer the life of me even begin to wonder what in the hell would get in yer skull tah think it's not a good idea. She should know. And the way she looks at yah? C'mon now."

His hands felt too large when wrapped around the mug. It was warm but not scalding hot any longer. His gaze lingered on it as he set it down. It was hard to explain without dropping Ten's secret. How did he make Jackie understand that the 'long haul' wasn't something that Ten expected to be around to see? A sharp exhale was released as he lifted his eyes back up to Jackie, lifting a single shoulder into a shrug. "Cause it ain't Ten. Just like it wasn't me."

"Neither of us have much thought 'bout the future and when you use that word you're suggestin' somethin' serious. Somethin' longterm. I'd rather have her company for whatever period of time that she's willin' to offer it than to say somethin' she doesn't want to hear and lose her."

"No, it ain't never been you. An' considering that she's the one that's got yah all hung up I wouldn't be much surprised at all if you an' her were cut from the same damn fabric." She pushed out of her casual lean, palms placed flat on the counter in front of her. "Yah ain't been one fer love, ain't been one fer the future, ain't been one fer somethin' serious. But the fact yer thinkin' 'bout them things now 'cause of her, well, ain't that a good reason tah make it known? It ain't like yah trip this hard fer all girls. There's somethin' special 'bout this one. I might nota seen it at first, but I know that now."

She took a breath, glancing around to making sure everyone's glasses were filled while she considered her words. Then she looked back to Colton as she spoke, low and clear. "There's always a chance of losin' someone, Colton. No matter whatcha do or whatcha don't do. Ain't nothin' guaranteed, no matter how badly yah want it to be. But... it's better tah be honest 'bout whatcha got and whatcha want then sufferin' through scared alla the time. Love's 'bout takin' chances, jus' like everythin' else. Sure, sometimes when yer honest it don't end the best." She wasn't trying to project her own experience onto the situation, but it seemed fitting. "But I think when yer honest and it turns out right? Well, there ain't nothin' better than that. An' both y'all deserve it."

Colt let her words settle around him, initially refusing to be sucked in by that calming power that Jackie's voice could have. For a moment, her patrons would forget that she was a twenty-two year old divorcee with a high school education and she would morph into an world renown doctor of psychology. He failed. Just like thousands before him failed.

He gave a laugh at himself as he rose to his feet, leaning across the bar to drag her into a one-armed hug. "I promise you that I'll think 'bout it at least. Alright?"

She smirked at the laugh. It wouldn't be the first time or the last time someone laughed at the advice she had given them. I'll think about it, she had heard that before. But she was well aware of her own track record. Jackie could barely sort her own life out at times, but being an outsider looking in? That was easy. It was what she was good at.

The hug was leaned into and she pat Colt on the shoulder. "You think 'bout it a lil' bit, then you think 'bout it a whole lot. Then do me a favor in the end and turn yer damn brain off. Sometimes yer too quick to act without thinkin', but this is onea them cases where it's a good thing to let yer heart do the talkin'." The hand on his shoulder then settled into a firm squeeze, her sweet tone carrying just a little extra edge to it. "An' if you ever start shit in mah bar again I'll be the one wipin' down this counter with yer face. Keep that in mind, Colton." After that, she released him. Smiling big and pretty all the while.

"No shit startin'. Got it." But the wave he gave her over his shoulder as he started for the door was more dismissive than it was a wave of acknowledgement for they both knew it was only a matter of time before he was back in the Busted Knuckle causing trouble.