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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

“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.”

"I have no doubt," he assures her with a grin of his own.

He's thoughtful for a moment as he sips his tea, looking from the range to the way they came, and then back to Midge. "If you like, I could see if they have some smaller models for you to try."

“Smaller pistols?” She asks. “I was actually thinking of trying the rifle - the beginner’s one.” His is so heavy that she would probably find it unwieldy.

“Do you think I’ll need to know how to shoot it if I come to visit you?”

Who knows how remotely he lives? It might feel like being a pioneer in the old west. Those women had to know how to shoot rifles.

That manages to perk him up no end, her answer making him pleasantly surprised. He'd feared she'd written off the larger weapons.

"Of course, you can try whatever you like. You get more range with a rifle, too." As if she cares... He can't help it. He's excited and trying not to show it.

"You won't need to know how to shoot. I'll be with you if you're ever anywhere dangerous," he assures her. "Knowing how to pin a snake down with a broom is useful, but you probably won't have to do that either."

His excitement is obvious, but it’s sweet to see it. He loves sharing this with her, and while she will never be a gun aficionado like he is, she can still enjoy it with him. Besides, she likes how animated he gets when he’s happy about something. It’s the same way when he talks about animals.

“Oh, God. Please tell me that’s a joke.” Midge already knows that it’s not. The entire compound will know if there’s a snake in Robert’s house because she will scream loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I’ll have you to protect me from everything else though?” she asks with a flirtatious smile. Midge puts a hand on his chest, then leans in to steal a kiss from him. “Aren’t I a lucky girl?”

With that, she picks up the rifle and turns it over in her hands. “How do you load this?”

"You're the comedian, not me." That doesn't mean he's not smiling, though. He doesn't plan to leave Midge anywhere she might have to deal with the local wildlife on her own, of course.

It's ridiculous how easy it is for her to distract him. He leans into that kiss and it takes him a second to pull himself back. Now is not the time or place, so he takes a breath to cool down. "I'll protect you from anything. Without a second thought."

Seeing her holding a rifle doesn't help things. He's always had a soft spot for women with guns, but right now he has to focus on safety and practicality. Rather than take it off her, he uses the opportunity to touch her some more, adjusting the weapon and then Midge before showing her how to load the weapon. Then he guides her to the right spot to show her how to stand, how to hold the gun, and how to aim. He does pay special attention to the stock, because it's likely this is where she's going to feel the recoil. Though he doesn't say it, the last thing he wants is to be the cause of her having to wear high collared dresses to hide a nasty bruise.

Midge likes rattling him, making him want her. Before she pulls away, she leans in to whisper in his ear. “Do you know how much that turns me on?” The idea of him being her protector is very arousing to her. While she considers herself a modern woman and can protect herself from some things, there are other things that she would consider to be his specialty.

Midge is glad to let him touch her in order to show her how to load the gun and stand with it. The positioning is different compared to how she held the pistol. She aims, holds the rifle for a moment and then fires.

The shot is louder and the recoil is stronger and Midge lets out an involuntary yelp. Her bullet hits the target, since now she’s used to aiming higher than what seems natural.

As if it isn't difficult enough behaving himself. Then she has to go and say something like that just before he's meant to focus on Serious things like gun safety.

He does manage to focus, though. That little whisper can be kept locked away for later when they don't have dangerous weapons around. He'll hold onto that for a long time yet, in fact.

Seeing her hit the target with a new gun, even with that yelp, is a good distraction. It's not a bullseye, but it's still far better than he'd expect of a beginner. He's not just being polite when he says, "Good shot! I told you you were a natural!"

He’s welcome to save his response for when they’re alone and the guns have been put away. He’s also welcome to act on it in whatever way he sees fit.

Midge laughs lightly. “I don’t know. Is it that hard to hit a non-moving target?” Maybe it is. Midge did kind of think she would be hopeless at this, but she’s doing better than she thought. If a person or animal tried to attack her though, she doubts she’d be able to hit them. It takes her a good ten seconds just to aim.

"It's hard when you've never lifted a gun in your life." And when that gun is primarily suited to a man who has years of experience. "Believe me, I've taught all sorts of people. You're a good shot."

She doesn't need to be good at shooting, he's got that covered for them both, but it's important that she knows her accomplishments. Especially when he's keen for her to have a pleasant, or at least not a frightening, first encounter with guns.-

Midge knows he’s not just indulging her, because he isn’t the type to do that. He’ll tell the truth, even be blunt about it, in most situations. Still, she can’t believe that she’s really impressing him.

“You can call me Midge Oakley from now on,” she says, aiming the rifle again. Quietly, she starts to sing: “Anything you can do, I can do better…”

She fires and the butt of the gun hits her shoulder. “Ow.” She must not have been aiming correctly. At least the bullet manages to sink into one of the rings of the target.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject