Second round of the competition. He's facing a little lady with cold eyes and quick fingers. He thinks he's met her before. If these gunfights weren't to the death, he reckons he might fancy her.

She nods to him, and he tips his hat to her. Yessir, he's pretty sure of it now. He double-checks the ammo in his Vaquero. Fully loaded and ready to roll, just like always.

As the two fighters take their places in the street, she pulls her hat off, revealing long brown hair, curled at the bottom. He loses his breath for a sec, and then gets control of hisself. Hate to kill a beauty like that.

Twelve o' the clock, and its time to move. He draws fast, but his hesitatin' mind slows him, and she gets her gun out too. Heartstoppers hurtle toward each other, and he can just make out his name written on one of 'em. She opens her coat to welcome it.

It stings like hell when it hits, and he knows it didn't go out the back. He's not even surprised when he hits the ground like a sack of feed. Feelin' up his body, there's a hole on the right side of his chest. Damn. There ain't no comin' back from a wound like that. He looks over to see where he hit her. She's getting to her feet. What in the hell?

She walks over to him, and drops the bullet on his chest, along with a metal-ribbed corset. Armor.

"You cheated?" he asks, tryin' to keep his vision from blurring.

"It was payback," she says. "I couldn't trust you."

He realizes where he knows her from, but its too late to say somethin' now. He just lets go.