doesntsing | shot through the heart (for allbedestroyed)

shot through the heart (for allbedestroyed)

This is definitely the most unique first date that Midge has ever been on.

Despite the fact that Robert took her to his company party one night and came out to see her show the next night, this outing is their official first date. And it’s to a shooting range outside of the city. Certainly not what Midge would have picked, but she’s open to new experiences. She doesn’t think she’s ever held a real gun, let alone shot one. She’d be more nervous if Robert wasn’t with her. He’s so calm and steady that it should keep her from panicking too much. It helps that he’s an expert shot as well. Midge just hopes that he’s a patient teacher.

They managed to get a warmer than usual day for December in New York with the sun shining brightly overhead. Midge is wearing a sweater and a pair of trousers with her coat and a hat. They’re going to be spending the day outside, so she had to dress sensibly, though still fashionably, of course. They packed a picnic lunch to eat on the grounds after they shoot, and Midge brought along a big thermos of tea to hopefully keep them warm. Tea because he’s English. She made an assumption.

The range is about 30 minutes outside of the city and Midge watches the fields go by as the two of them race through the countryside in his rented car.

“How did you hear about this place?” she asks.

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That sounds like a story for another times.

As they walk to small building where they’re supposed to check in, Midge listens as Robert talks about the types of animals he hunts, and apparently eats.

“Are those Kosher?” she muses to herself. “Not hogs or boar.” Then, she huffs a laugh at his question. “Not my father. My ex-husband and ex-father-in-law do some fishing when we’re at Steiner. That’s the summer camp that you think is a luxury resort.” Her tone is teasing.

"Sounds like a luxury resort," he insists with a mumble.

He takes a little time to talk to the man behind the desk to get them checked in. Midge won't have to worry about any of the directions the man gives, Muldoon is more than comfortable with all of it.

"This way," he says once he's done, and starts walking round to the range. "What are the criteria for Kosher meat?"

She can follow instructions. Mostly. A lot of it is about safety and not pointing the guns at any person while at the range. Midge figures that Robert will show her what else to do.

“It’s a little complicated,” she replies. “Animals that don’t have split hooves aren’t Kosher. Pigs aren’t Kosher. Deer are. I’m not sure about wildebeest. I don’t remember what their feet look like. It also matters how the animal is killed though. It’s supposed to be done in accordance with Jewish law, which says that it should be done by cutting their throats. I don’t know where that leaves hunting.”

Midge shrugs. “I’m not incredibly strict about keeping Kosher.”

"Wildebeest have cloven hooves. But the goal of hunting is to put them down as quickly as possible. That's not usually done by cutting their throat. I don't think there's much of a Jewish community in Nairobi, though."

As soon as they step into the range he rattles off the key safety points, mostly in case there are any other shooters they need to be mindful of. After that he sets the guns he has out, he looks over them before turning to her. "I've brought three types of gun with me today. A rifle, a shotgun, and a handgun. If you don't want to use one, or if you're not comfortable, I want you to tell me, alright?"

"They're all unloaded at the minute, so you pick them up and look at them. If you have a preference, we can start with that one."

He can go through more safety and rules then, but he doesn't want to scare her before she's even seen the guns up close. They've been carefully selected, lighter than he'd usually go for, and with less recoil. Though he still has his favourite in one of the bags in case there's time for a few rounds with it.

“That’s not very surprising,” Midge replies. The meat being Kosher isn’t really something she’s worried about at the moment, though she thought of it when Robert mentioned that he eats what he hunts. She supposes that means that he cooks too. It’s something to ask him later, because she probably needs to pay attention while he explains to her how to use his guns.

Midge picks up the handgun and examines it. It’s weighty in her hand, though not too heavy. “I suppose I shouldn’t hold it like a spy in a Hollywood movie?” she jokingly strikes a glamorous pose, holding the gun out in front of her with one hand.

He stands back and watches her while she looks over them, allowing himself the smallest smile at her pose and question. "Only if you want to miss your shot and give yourself a black eye."

Then, putting a hand on her back he positions her over by the stand designated for shooting. It's here Midge will get to experience the time honoured tradition of Totally Not Flirting while he corrects her posture. Since they've already spent a night together he has no qualms about putting his hands on her hips as he explains how to stand, or wrapping his arms around her as he explains how to hold the pistol. Shooting is never as glamorous in real life as in the movies, but learning it can still be fun.

With his hands on her shoulders and his voice low, he asks, "Would you like to try shooting?"

It’s Totally Not Flirting. Not at all. Except for the fact that feeling his hands on her waist like that brings back memories of him holding her there while he fucked her. Those thoughts are incredibly distracting, and it’s all Midge can do to pay attention to the instructions that he’s giving her, considering that they’re for everyone’s safety.

She practices pulling the trigger of the unloaded gun a few times and then nods. “Let’s do this.”

"Alright." He takes the gun from her, but has his eyes pretty much entirely on her while he loads the weapon. "You're going to put on the earmuffs, pick up the pistol, keep it aimed towards the target at all times, take your aim, turn the safety off... and then shoot when you're ready. Take your time, and if you're ever unsure of anything, put the safety back on and put the gun down first."

It would not be a fun date it she ended up accidentally shooting him.

Clicking the clip back in, he sets the pistol down and directs her to the earmuffs. "When you're ready. Take your time. Breathe."

It’s impressive that he can load the gun without even looking. Midge listens to his instructions, though she’s starting to feel a bit anxious now. She takes a deep breath and puts on the earmuffs before picking up the gun.

She tries not to hold the gun like it’s a bomb about to go off, but she’s being very gentle with it. Her thumb flicks off the safety and then she aims. The target seems extremely far across the grass and her hand shakes a little. As long as she keeps the pistol facing this direction, everything should be alright.

Midge squeezes the trigger, waiting for it to go off and lets out a yelp when it does. The retort is a lot stronger than she expected it to be. She fired something though.

“Did I hit it?” she asks, squinting at the target.

Muldoon is too used to being around guns to worry about putting on ear protection himself. It's why Midge might find him a bit more responsive when she's on his left. He still steps back out of the way when she aims her weapon. The yelp doesn't surprise him, but he manages to wrangle his smile down before he steps back close again.

Setting a hand on her lower back reassuringly, he shakes his head and points to where he saw the dirt scatter. "No, but you're in the right direction. Aim higher, don't lock your arms. Here..."

He gently adjusts her posture, and this time he keeps his hands on her shoulder and waist so she stays in the right place. "Try again."

“I’m supposed to be able to concentrate when you’re touching me like this?” she quips. “For the record, don’t stop touching me like this.” Having him physically show her how to stand is helpful.

Midge aims and fires again, the sound of the shot frightening her less this time. There’s a thunk as it hits the bottom of the target.

She's making it impossible to stop smiling. It's just as well he's nowhere near his workplace or people would stop seeing him as the scarily stern head warden. The comment is all well and good, but seeing her actually hit the target makes him proud.

"There you go! Good job!" He might be a touch excited as he does a few more corrections. "You're shorter than a lot of the people coming here, so you have to aim higher than you'd expect. It might feel wrong, but you'll get results, trust me."

Midge loves that she can make him smile, that she’s able to break through that stern exterior. That’s been one of her goals ever since meeting him. His coworkers would certainly see a whole different side of him if she were ever around while he was working.

“Thanks.” Midge is thrilled to have just hit the target at all. “I have a good teacher. And I’m 5’3”, thank you very much.”

So yes, shorter than most men. Her indignation is fake though.

Midge takes care to remember that she still has a live weapon in her hands. She holds her arms higher than what feels normal and shoots again, hitting the target again.

Just because she didn't hit the dead centre doesn't mean she's bad at all. The fact that she made such a marked improvement makes Muldoon swell with pride, and hope that she feels as much satisfaction as he does with a well made shot.

"Well done! You're a natural!"

Midge laughs and shakes her head. “I think it’s because you showed me what to do,” she tells him. “Although I was pretty good at archery at camp when I was a kid.” See? It is more than a luxury resort.

She shoots a few more times, getting closer to the bullseye before she turns the safety back on and puts the gun down. “Your turn,” she says.

That is a luxury resort! How many city kids get to go and do archery? Muldoon still isn't accepting the brushoffs, though. "You need to have a knack for these things to pick them up so quickly. You're good, Midge."

When the gun goes down and she taps him in, he hesitates as he considers protesting, but reconsiders pretty quickly. They're here to have fun, and he does enjoy shooting. He suspects she expects him to show off, too, and he isn't about to disappoint her.

Nudging her aside playfully, he picks up the weapon and reloads it. His stance is more relaxed than hers, more comfortable with the weapon raised. It isn't all that heavy to him, and he's more than used to holding larger guns up for longer periods.

Muldoon won't notice the way his smile falls away, replaced by a stern expression of concentration as he picks his target, and then fires. One shot, an adjustment of his aim, and then three more in steady succession. The holes are all neatly clustered around the centre, which he finds acceptable, despite what the unhappy tug at the corner of his mouth might suggest.

"It's not my weapon of choice," he concedes as he slips the safety back on. "How did you find it?"

Agree to disagree on Steiner! Apparently it’s not hardcore enough for Robert.

Midge shrugs a shoulder, a smile on her face. “I’m a fast learner,” she concedes.

She watches as he picks up the gun and shoots, his motions much more fluid than hers. Of course, he’s had far more practice. He’s able to get much closer to the bullseye, though he seems frustrated that he doesn’t do better.

“I picked it because it was the smallest one. It seemed fine to me.” But what does she know about guns? “What is your weapon of choice?”

Muldoon hesitates before returning to the bags and pulling out another rifle. This one is notably heavier than the one he brought for Midge. It's been diligently cared for, but still has signs of its years of use.

"I was raised on rifles and shotguns. Big game weapons. I prefer rifles like this one."

He offers it over for her to try holding, but keeps his hands nearby in case it's too heavy or unwieldy.

"I didn't take it out for you because it's not a good weapon for a beginner. The last thing I want is for you to bruise your shoulder with the recoil."

“Tea?” Midge pours a small cup of tea out of the thermos while Robert is retrieving his gun. Once she’s closed the thermos, she takes the rifle in her hands. It’s much heavier than the pistol she just shot.

“Do you carry this around with you?” she asks. Midge can’t imagine lugging around something this heavy. She hands it back to him. “I’d like to watch you shoot it, but I think I’ll stick to the smaller guns, personally.”

Edited 2025-01-21 19:39 (UTC)

"Yes please," to the tea. Despite having shed as much Britishness as he can, tea is always appreciated. A consequence of having been raised by a very English mother.

"I do, when it's appropriate. I've had to bring it on treks that lasted several weeks, through jungles and mountains." Sensing the weight of it might be a key issue here he adds, "The rest of the pack is usually heavier."

Since it's unloaded, he's happy to set it down as he takes the tea and sips at it. "But for where you are, a handgun suits you just fine. They have incredibly small ones for going about the cities. I just didn't have one to hand."

Midge passes him the cup of tea, then pours one for herself. Looks like her intuitions about his Britishness were right.

“Weeks?” Midge asks. “I can’t imagine.” She’d be miserable doing that, but that’s not the sort of life that she’s lived. Robert is used to it. As long as he doesn’t expect her to join him on such treks.

“You know, I usually feel safe in the city,” she continues. “Most of the clubs I perform at are in Midtown and I take taxis if it’s late at night instead of walking.” She’s also a true New Yorker. If anyone gives her shit, she’s going to give it right back to them. Hopefully there’s no need for a gun.

"A lot of places I've worked are extremely remote. You can't drive there. You're lucky if you can get a boat part of the way."

Unless she specifically requested to go out on a hike, he would never look for Midge to join one. Not even a much shorter one. He's seen the sort of clothes she enjoys wearing and that tells him plenty about what she's comfortable with. Hiking through dense jungle or wading through leech infested swamps don't factor into it.

He sips his tea as he listens, nodding approvingly at mention of taxis at night. It doesn't surprise him. Midge has a good head on her shoulders. "Midtown's not the bad part of town, then, is it?"

As long as he still likes her even if she won’t be joining him in any multi-day hikes. Day hikes, she could be persuaded to do. She would dress properly for them and would probably have a lovely time, so long as they don’t involve leeches.

“No,” she says. “It’s a lot of businesses, which are closed at night, but there are restaurants and clubs too. If you stay where there are a lot of people, you’re less likely to get mugged.”

Midge isn’t naive enough to think that she could never get hurt in New York, but she’s not afraid to go out on her own either.

“If I started carrying that thing around though—“ She points to Robert’s large game rifle. “-I doubt anyone would mess with me.”

Given that his expectations from youth were to marry a homemaker, he's not put off in the slightest that Midge is more of a city woman. Plus, if they did come across leeches he would be inclined to just carry her to spare her the discomfort.

There's more approving nodding as she explains. It's what he'd thought she'd meant, but it's better to hear it said out loud. When they part it's going to be difficult not to worry about her, but this is some consolation.

"I'm shocked anyone would mess with you without a weapon."

Clearly opposites attract in their case.

She will, of course, be worrying about him out in the wilderness as well. So many things could go wrong. Midge will try to remember that as comfortable and confident as she feels in the city, he feels the same way out there.

She smiles slyly at him. “They wouldn’t know what hit them.”

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