Nugget and Etienne

By gisy

>wandering through last hour of gun show

>walk past old guy cleaning up his table of revolvers

>he's been here before, he can't seem to sell this one antique

>be rifle guy, not much interest in pistols, see if I can get a deal

>already live with crazy moist nugget ghost who tries to get me to dig trenches in the yard

>guy practically gives me it

>take it home and look it up

>1892 french service revolver

>weird calibre, no production ammo, no brass, no bullets

>one recipe posted on line, similar to 32 s&w long

>order a handful of brass and bullets

>wake up next morning to the tittering of women's voices in the kitchen

>dry shirt, no pool of drool from the nugget ghost

>wander down to the kitchen

>the nugget is sharing a pot of tea with another woman, looking serious for the first time ever

>god damnit, another gun ghost

>she rises to greet me and bows slightly "Good morning"

>a very slight continental french accent

>dressed head to toe in black: floor length skirt, pleated blouse, bow tie, the works

>deep brown hair done up into a french style braid


>make breakfast, she spends the entire time staring at me while drinking her tea

>nugget is starting to get flustered, starts sneaking vodka

>1892 pretends to not notice as you snatch the flask away

>where does she get it from anyway?

>nugget grabs it back while howling in russian, disappearing into the wall

>left sitting at table with other ghost

>feel bad for nugget, but she gets crazy when she drinks

>1892 sighs into her tea

>one gun ghost is more than enough, but two is going to do you in

>tell 1892 that if she wants to stay in the house while you figure out what to do with her there's rules

>drinking is to kept private, no haunting the neighbours, the house is to remain clean

>no trenches in the front yard rule gets a raised eyebrow from the ghost

>1892 agrees and introduces herself as Etienne

>weird, nugget didn't have a name

>couple of days go by

>nugget has been sneaking into the bed at night when Etienne isn't around

>leaving drool again

>nugget will only talk to Etienne

>Etienne is the opposite of nugget: quiet, non-drinker, clean

>spotted her cleaning up behind nugget

>wake up to a pot of tea every morning

>bullets and brass show up

>load up that recipe I found

>test fit completed cartridge for OAL

>spot Etienne sitting with knees together gripping her skirt face beet red

>seen this face on nugget before, but she's more "open" about it

>this is actually kinda cute

>time for gentle bulli

>ask her if she's feeling ok, is there something wrong?

>she gasps out that the cartridge is a little long

>smile and tell her that the best cartridges are snug to the front of the chamber

>she gasps slightly "how lewd!"

>rip out fifty rounds

>time for test firing out the back door

>suck at shooting pistols

>Etienne is visibly vibrating, can hardly follow

>face even deeper red

>line up on the berm and cock back for single action and fire

>Etienne moans loud enough to hear through the ear plugs

>finger trigger and fire with double action through the rest

>she's moaning and panting leaned up against the wall her butt sticking out slightly

>a few more cylinders later and she can almost keep her composure while firing

>she's totally different from nugget

>nugget jumps up and down and rages in russian at whatever we're shooting at

>then proceeds to keep the neighbours up all night loudly rubbing it out

>Etienne sneaks into the room that night and crawls awkwardly into bed while trying not to wake anything

>doesn't work

>look down to find Etienne snoring peacefully with her head on my chest

>a creak at the door and a glimpse of nugget's pouting face before drifting off again

>wake up to ghost sandwich

>shirt is soaked

>they both drool, it's kinda cute

>settle into routine at home and work

>wake up to peel two ghosts off

>take Etienne to work squirrelled away in the backpack

>nugget does whatever nuggets do during the day

>probably getting into street fights with mausers or something

>come home for supper while Etienne drinks tea with nugget

>if we can intercept nugget before she starts drinking we go to the range

>actually spot in the woods with some logs as a berm

>nugget and Etienne work well together

>the russian being especially critical of the ranged shooting

>misses earn a swat on back of the head

>Etienne is careful with her instruction

>she holds herself close and holds my arm at the wrist

>no matter how fast we shoot, it's always smooth like a dance

>good runs through the course earn a peck on the cheek

>come home from work early one day, twisted a drive shaft off

>find front door open

>draw Etienne, her ghost close behind across the lawn

>step across the threshold and start sweeping the main floor

>hear shrieking from living room

>find nigger in livingroom fingering the shitty tv

>nugget is loosing her mind, wants to use her bayonet for its intended use

>Etienne grabs my arm as the man lunges and pulls me out of the way as he bolts to the door

>nugget is already chasing the attempted thief

>Etienne has her arms wrapped around me her whispers begging to let the man go

>Call cops and report it to the responding officer

>kinda pissed at the situation and the ghost for stopping the removal of a piece of shit

>she knows it too, she's sitting at the table staring at her lap

>finish supper and ask her what the fuck that was

>she spends the evening letting her story out

>she killed a lot of people

>too many of her owners were killed

>after the last war she become a prize and lived a quiet life with her owner until he died of old age

>the first one to do so

>she had found an owner who gave a shit about her and wasn't about to risk him being foolish

>feeling kinda bad for being angry

>walk around the table and kiss the girl on the lips

>ever seen a gun cry? You don't want to.

>kiss her again through the tears

>it's late, it's been a long day and sleep is starting to creep up

>pick her up and drag her to bed

>ghosts are light but it must be a pistol thing to be this light

>seat her at the edge of the bed and start peeling her coat and blouse off

>skirt is next, revealing an extremely modern set of bra and panties

>she's turning red

>tuck her into bed and crawl in beside her wrapping both in the fluffy blankets

>next day dawns to find rattling in the kitchen

>nugget's back and she's singing "dark-eyed cossack girl" while putting the kettle on

>she's singing in the baritone of a long dead russian solder

>last time she did that was after the two of you nailed that coyote who was killing the neighbourhood dogs

>flip on the radio to catch the news

>report of some "trayvon" who was killed after approaching the police with a weapon

>no weapon was found after but a small girl was seen fleeing the area shortly after

>the man's mother was quoted saying "he dindu nuffin"

>a glance at nugget as she twirls and sweeps across the floor

>probably best not to ask

>first pot of tea was nearly gone along with breakfast when Etienne finally wandered down

>the tea handed to her in her favourite cup gets a barely registered nod

>she's blearily eyeing nugget as the same slouches on the table humming another forgotten tune

>a shaken head is the response to Etienne's unstated question

>she smiles slightly and taps the side of her head

>fucking guns, she probably figured it out

>breakfast is over, time to wage war on the weeds in the potato patch

>both guns and their girls come out for some sun

>a couple of hours of hoeing and the decision is made

>explain to Etienne that she will be the guard of the household

>it's now her job to keep the people and other guns safe, whatever that takes

>she's blushing again with both hands over her mouth in an attempt to hide a huge grin

>keeps repeating "yes, of course!"

>an unintended miscommuniation has likely occurred but it's unfathomable as to what

>get back to hoeing

>gotta do it right or nugget'll get weird again

>where is that girl anyway?

>she's leaned over the back fence shaking her fist and yelling incoherently

>at a mauser a block away who is doing the same before she is suddenly yanked back into her yard


>the past few days since the thief's timely end have been interesting

>a group of thugs have started rioting downtown smashing and burning cars

>whole city is on edge

>asked nugget why people are terrible to each other

>she smiled sadly and told me it gets far worse when the demons come

>she stopped talking after that for a while

>went shopping with Etienne one evening saw a group of men boarding up stores

>they mostly had new stuff save for a tired looking Hopkins & Allen who looked far to thin for what was going to be asked of her

>Etienne wished her luck with a hug

>she got a headpat while Etienne wasn't looking

>I hope I see her again, she seemed nice

>the girls and I watched buildings burn on the news

>we're far enough out that we shouldn't have much risk but Etienne insisted on inspecting the area around the house herself before bed

>mentioned that she ran into the mauser down the road doing the same

>at least we're not alone tonight

>Etienne has changed

>she smiles a bit more

>laughs a bit longer

>she's quite bold, coming to bed at the same time instead of sneaking in

>her sleepwear is getting... thinner

>must be a french thing

>nugget still sneaks in and drools but has been caught still sleeping in the morning

>less drinking too since she's on guard since the riots

>still falls off the crate once in a while

>go to work one morning

>lock the door, turn around

>step into nothing

>chest hits the far side of the excavation and tumble into a trench

>Etienne comes to the door in answer to the pained cries

>gasps as she steps from the door to both the broken human at the bottom and the sheer size of the excavation

>pauses and squints at the network of trenches

>"nugget, is this Crimea 1943?"

>a moist nugget complete with bayo inbeds itself into the earth beside Etienne

>followed closely by a completely uniformed and filthy nugget who perches proudly on the piles of dirt between trenches

>"Da! Those filthy fascists will never take us now comrade ally!"

>smug bitch, we both know how that turned out for the soviets

>climb out of trench

>now have limp and a possible concussion

>then managed to really put a foot in it

>"Hunny, I have to go to work and can you please get nugget to clean this up before she kills the mailman"

>both guns are staring

>oops, Freudian slips and all

>ha ha!

>humans can't be in relationships with guns, right?

>they're still staring as the truck pulls away

>same day

>having lunch in a nearby restaurant

>aw yiss, motherfucking freedom fries

>hunting buddy sits down across

>learn lots about old guns from this guy

>casting, paper patching, weird loads

>ghosts love him even if he can't see them

>his winchester told me that they whisper to him in dreams

>hope his will is solid when he croaks, otherwise some gunnapping is going to happen

>asks how the riots went

>tell him about buying and loading Etienne

>he's pretty keen to see how she shoots

>tells of another gun guy he met down the street from me

>says the young guy has a mauser and an antique pistol, will set up a meeting some time

>this sounds familiar, pretty sure the guns already know each other

>stopped at a saddlery that got spotted a little while ago when hauling up north

>got the kid to build a shoulder holster for Etienne

>pay through the nose for custom work

>At least can carry her properly now

>get home a little late

>front yard is perfect

>pretty sure there's even a dog poop on the lawn

>Etienne is attempting to learn to cook

>stole the xmas apron that floats around the house

>she's getting better, less heat and more patience

>while we're waiting she gets fit in the new holster and the whole affair is strapped on

>her tomato ansestry is showing

>"I can be with owner all day, and so close"

>a slight wiggle is added to the statement

>her supper masterpeice is egg drop ramen with garlic

>tell her it's actually good

>she snaps up straight with her cup of tea neatly agaisnt her lips trying to hide a smug smile

>washing dishes, Etienne is drying when there's a knock at the door

>answer to find a clean cut youngish man haunted by a very stiff, imperious looking ghost

>do my best to maintain a focus on the human

>people get weird when you shift your attention between them and empty space

>he introduces himself as Brian, who lives just down the road and had some reloading questions

>invite him in

>Etienne doesn't look up from the dishes when the other ghost walks through the kitchen

>"haven't seen a Reichsrevolver in a long time"

>the ghost stops for beat, nods at Etienne, and continues on to sit with her owner at the table

>find the guts for the coffee percolator and making small talk with Brian

>get a good look at the reichsrevolver

>avarage height, brown hair pulled back to a ponytail, dark blue summer dress

>the imperious look doesn't waver

>Brian expains how he accquired the old revolver from an estate sale with a mauser 98

>wants to load for both

>listens intently to Etienne's experience

>at a pause in the conversation he puts his coffee on the table and gets a serious look

>"We should go to the range sometime, but I don't know if we can keep the rifles from killing each other off."


>"holy shit dude, how did you think I know to ask you? your mosin starting shit with Arge and digging trenches?"

>man's got a point

>had no idea there was others who could see ghosts, but nugget wasn't shy either

>ask straight up if he can see the ghosts

>his hand grasps the revolver's, intertwining their fingers

>a soft gasp comes from the kitchen

>the reichsrevolver blushes

>that's some bold moves, good thing there's no children around

>she introduces herself as "Pinky"

>the mauser is "Arge", apperently she thinks she is an Argentinian 98

>actually a true M98

>chuckle about the delusions of rifles

>the pistols nod solemnly

>plans are made for a range trip in a couple of days to give the girls some excercise

>bidding the pair a good night

>Etienne clumsly trips and grabs a hand to steady herself

>she's not letting go

>standing in the doorway

>she refuses to make eye contact

>won't let go either

>getting awkward

>have to peel her hand off

>get huffy cheeks from her in response

>she crawls into bed a bit later then usual

>off to the range

>Etienne asked that all her rounds be knocked down, evened and sized to the tightest tolerance

>she insisted that nugget's ammo get the same treatment

>old scores are to be settled

>nugget knows something's up

>usually gets to ride in the box to the range

>gets forced into the cab

>getting the dead fish eyes

>can probably smell the fear

>assure her we're going to the range, not the gunsmith

>learned she has sharp teeth last time we went

>she swept the whole house when she came home the night Pinky and Brian were over

>now am locking her in the cab for a trip

>Etienne isn't helping, the tension is thick enough to cut

>nugget expolodes out the truck at the range, heads for the woods

>Brian is pulls up in a shitty compact a while later

>the car is immidiately assulted by nugget trying to claw her way into Arge

>Arge crawls through the skylight and attacks nugget from above

>why they don't float through stuff to get at each other is a mystery of the universe

>both are flailing their arms as they try to slap the other

>nugget appears to be winning as she drives Arge into the woods

>both revolvers look mortified

>Pinky leans over to Brian and asks what he what they were going to do

>Brian sighs

>"same thing we do evey time we come to the range Pinky, let her try to take over the world"

>setting up at the picnic table

>check over Pinky's loads

>Etienne pretends that she isn't jelous of the attention Pinky's getting

>been able to get good groups without Etienne's help

>not happening this time

>got her pinned up against my back, her arm in line with mine

>no helpful tips in the ear this time

>not allowed to fuck up

>dishonour is worse then death

>she'll accuse me of insulting Sergei Mosin in front of nugget

>three shots are nine ring

>interuppted by Arge laying seige to nugget who has flipped the next table over claming it as "russian clay"

>rocks, 12 ga hulls, insults flying

>point at woods

>"first one to the forest gets the winter palace!"

>positions are abandoned as both break to the trees

>tactics bitches

>Pinky shoots with Brian for the first time

>don't watch out of politeness

>turn around to find Pinky a quivering mess on the ground

>Brian drags her to the car to calm down

>Etinne's a little too smug

>like she was any better

>the rest of Etienne's ammo gets planted into a beer can making it dance out of range

>get polite applause from Brian

>things get serious when the rifles come out

>propane tanks, carwheels, and the keg at five hundered get more holes

>a set of skis and we could hold the soviets back

>it's been a little too quiet

>nugget and Arge haven't reappeared

>Pinky volenteers to go search

>Etienne can't abide, and demands to go as well

>crack a beer and wait for the guns to come back

>two beers later and the four guns emerge from the trees followed by a very shabby fifth

>looks like she's been through hell

>dirty, a little too skinny, dressed in the tatters of an OD dress and jacket

>hanging off Arge and nugget

>Etienne and Pinky lead them out of the forest

>all four look upset

>get the story from Etienne

>rifles were fighting in the woods

>stumbled on ghost sitting under tree by the pond

>the ground had grown up around her

>rifles couldn't make her budge

>said that her owner would be back to claim her

>Pinky promised her that we'd find her owner if she came with

>her owner threw her into the lake in a fit after she broke her firing pin

>it's been thirty two winters

>the enfield is holding her arms in front of her, staring at the ground

>ask if she knows where in the pond she ended up

>she nods, it's too deep for her

>ask nugget to lead us back

>bit of trek, thank god for the road beer

>as ghost what she is

>Lee Enfield Mk1, goes by Lee

>as far as ponds go it's pretty nice, couple of hundred yards across

>needs a swinging tree

>ghost points at a spot just off shore

>time for some fishing

>spend twenty minutes diving for it

>Brian takes over, Lee keeps pointing him at the same spot repeatedly

>one more time, he's down there a while

>breaks the surface with rusted hulk of a rifle over his head

>Etienne gasps and touches the back of my arm

>the two rifles audiably groan, Pinky goes stony

>get a look at the rifle while Brian recovers

>wood's rotten, action solid, magazine a couple rusty leaves in the bottom

>overall not as bad as expected

>heading back to the vehicles

>Lee is excitedly telling nugget and Arge about how much she's looking forward to seeing her owner

>the two rifles put on false smiles, but their eyes are betray them

>the more Lee talks the angrier Brian gets

>with the vehicles in sight he loses it, starts yelling towards the rifles

>the three start cowering

>high points include spinless british rifles and shitty owners

>he collapses on nuggets upturned picnic table while nugget and Arge comfort a sobbing Lee

>Pinky sits beside him her arms wrapped around his waist

>poor sweet summer child, he's never been to a gun amnesty

>through her sobs, Lee mumbles out that she must be with her owner

>Brain walks up, grabs the sides of her face

>"look at me. I am your owner now."

>she's crying harder

>that's nice, a good end for Lee

>looks like it's time to make a graceful exit

>trip home is quiet

>nugget gets the truck box to herself but her heart isn't in it

>Etienne is dead silent

>Unload the guns and gear into the house

>Etinne has borrowed nugget's vodka and is pulling on the flask like water in the desert

>gently pull the flask from her and put it down on the counter

>the dam breaks

>she's clinging to my jacket sobbing and begging to never be abandoned like that

>a crying ghost is gut wrenching

>hands on her arms

>try to reassure her

>she's nearly insenate

>tugging on the jacket balled in her fists

>starts repeating "I love you" over and over

>pull her into a hug and squeeze

>"I'll never let you go, because love you too"

698 Hits, 0 Comments

No comments yet