“Merda!” Saint gasped standing up as he and Wash sat in the barn.
“What lad?” Wash asked blinking in surprise.
“Merda! Look!” Saint growled pointing. “Luis… Only he would do this…” he sighed rubbing his forehead.
“What Sa... Jaysus! What the Hell?” Wash exclaimed jumping up and standing next to Saint as he saw what Saint pointed to. “Luis!” he growled in agreement.
“Why in Hell are these things in here?” Saint asked Wash slowly backing up.
“I have no idea lad, but why even bring them in here?” Wash responded backing up with Saint.
“I am going to kill that little bas…” but before Saint could finish his sentence he jumped back a bit.
“Saint, we can’t just leave them here lad, we have to get them out or something,” Wash suddenly jumped back a bit too.
“Merda, Hell no!” Saint snapped at Wash quickly. Wash slowly turned around and looked up at Saint with fear.
"We're surrounded lad..." Wash whispered silently. Saint looked around to and growled.
"Merda, merda, merda! How many of these basterds are there?" Saint wondered allowed.
"How did the lad get them all? What the Hell is he planning on doing with these things?" Wash responded while jumping towards Saint. "We can't leave these things here, it would be bad for the horses and what would Bender do if he found out we did nothing?" Wash added.
"Wash, you are absolutely right, but I need a cup of coffee," Saint patted Wash on the shoulder yawning actually tired and then ran a hand through his hair pulling out a piece of hay.
"Saint, don't you dare use that excuse!" Wash eyed at Saint extremely annoyed.
"Good luck!" Saint smiled at Wash and then slowly made his way to the barn doors.
"Saint, Saint, please don't leave me!" Wash pleaded helplessly.
"Good luck Wash, by the way it was your idea," Saint added pushing the doors open his back to them.
"Saint! If one of these things feckn' bite me, I will kill you!" Wash yelled after him with at that a stick flew in the air hitting Saint's head. Saint left the doors open for Wash and walked back to the station. Walking to the door to the kitchen a sweet sent washed over him. The girls must be cooking, he thought absently. I’ll yell at Luis later, or if Wash is bitten, Sorry to leave you to the rattlers Wash.
© 2010 Ellie