Ha, I am clever. Or like to think so. While the picture of Jack above is just spiffy, I have ulterior motives. Like reading. Sorta.

I scribbled this down a while back and decided to clean it up a little and then thought "Hey, Writers get ALL the babes! Those artist folks are always SOOO jealous, so I should something up here!"

Barely a page long I was trying to create a simple snapshot of Jack Dancer, my German Shepherd Jetpack wearing Ex-Patriot. So there we go. No porn parts, sorry! :)

Martian Sunset

---

“Colonel Dancer, you are a righteous citizen and are fooling no one.”

. The German Shepherds ear twitched, and he looked away from the chaotic spectacle of the county fair, garish facades and crowded games glowing red in the faint martian sunset. His black nose swung to bear and he grinned lopsidedly tilting his head to the side with a raised eyebrow.

. “I do believe you may have caught some manner of fever or are under the effect of a narcotic. I do not believe I would qualify for an honorary 'even slightly righteous' award.” His voice was even if slightly quick with the faint polished remnants of an American southern accent. He winked and tossed his half eaten sandwich over the dark railing of the airships deck to let it fall to the ground below.

. The golden eyes of the well dressed Labrador tracked his smirking features and smiled. “I don't think you understand my full meaning Colonel Dancer.” She turned toward him, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her elegant lavender skirt with honey colored paws.

. “What I was speaking of, is that your character tries to encompass the right things in the world.” she continued, jaw set with refined determination. “But you don't wish to be known as such. You have all the appearance of a man who is without a care beyond his next appointment with a bottle or brothel. But you do a poor job of hiding your concern for others.”

. She delivered the words flatly and without blush at the indelicate institutions in a way that caught Jack off guard. Rarely would the pampered and protected members of society speak both bluntly and so accurately. He managed to produce a weak smile and make a show of straightening his out of date uniform. The many buckled top coat of a Royal AeroScout and Colonel having seen better days, its original rust hue faded to a worn brown.

. “Well miss you currently are my concern, in a way far more concrete than any imagined idea of my righteousness.” he looked out over the fair as one of the sailors on the aft deck tossed a mooring line free in preparation of departure. The fair had drawn everyone in the small outlying territory to the quaint crater-town of New Binghamton.

. ”I am being paid to keep you safe, and while I think this excursion offers less danger than say, your average game of whist, I could be wrong.” he settled against the rail and rubbed one shoulder absently while looking over the small crowds of settlers walking about the fairs entertainments, not wishing to meet the perceptive females gaze as of yet. “But I have been known to underestimate the dangers of whist.”

. She leaned closer into his line of sight. “Being righteous isn't easy. But you do fine, don't you?” she swept her silvered fan up to flick away a dustfly, her expression one of quiet confidence in her deduction. She watched him, trying to read his brown eyed gaze.

. His left ear flicked as he considered her words. “I do alright I admit. Nothing so tumultuous that I haven't survived ma'am.” His tone cooled slightly and she began to believe she had over stepped the conversation. He held up a hand as she started to speak. “I am taking you seriously Miss Cavannio. And I think your views of the wayward American or ex soldier may be colored a bit by the penny dreadfuls. I'm no saint. However a citizen doesn't have to be righteous to stand up to something they know is in plain fact wrong.” He chuffed and rolled his neck a bit. “More folks ought to try it. Does wonders for the conscience.”

. Miss Cavannio folded her fan and tucked it away as she looked back out over the fair. She then changed the subject gamely, her voice neutral.

. “You were in her majesties Navy I see, but you're obviously American. Do you find yourself drawn to the military career Colonel?” She felt the deck shift below her expensive maroon dress boots and she placed a delicate hand on the railing to steady herself. She turned back to Jack and the last rays of the far distant sun illuminated her long muzzle.

. “Its just Jack, and it's just a coat. It's the only substantial thing beside Isolde' I brought to this world. And she isn't always that happy about it.” he teased.

. “Oh. I did not mean to pry.”

. “It's alright, you are just making conversation, and I doubt you would find much fun in sparring with the stuffed shirts who couldn't even be bothered to leave the cabin to see the fair we flew out here to visit.” he took a breath, and could already feel the martian air cooling into evening. “You are very sharp Miss Cavannio. But don't worry yourself, I have nothing between myself and my next appointment, be it bottle or brothel. Isolde's my flight pack there. She is always trying to kill me.” he nodded past her at the large brass and iron device resting on the rear deck, secured with a single tie down.

. The deep hum of the aether drives shivered through the 80 foot skimmers deck and the cool wind whirled off the martian plains as they began to rise up out of the protected windbreak of the towns crater wall. Jack moved into the lee of the ships upper superstructure and offered a hand to walk Miss Cavannio to her cabin. She glanced up at the stunningly bright stars and then down at Jacks suddenly wistful expression.

. “Do you miss your home Jack? I mean America and Earth both, I get so terrible homesick for England sometimes.” she stepped into the golden glow of the open hatch silhouetted there.

. “I miss people sometimes. People that should have been here. Lot of them far better than me, Miss. Was a damn wastrel world out there. It's why I had to leave it.”