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She was watering plants when the door suddenly opened itself, no knock, no announcement. The small, colorful watering pail hit the counter with a metallic clatter as Jules straightened her shoulders and mentally prepared herself for whatever scoundrel or thief had entered her home. He hadn't even attempted to be quiet, which meant it could possibly mean someone was here to attack her and if that were the----

"Dallas?!?"

Blue eyes widened in startled surprise as the large cowboy made his way into her kitchen. It wasn't like him not to knock -- sure, he burst his way into her house a time or two but he'd never not announced himself like this, meaning something was up.

Before she could question him, however, he was already hoisting her up, causing a small shriek to leave her mouth as smaller hands scrambled to grab at the back of his shirt for leverage. He was a man on a mission, clearly, because he said nothing as heavy boots made their way down her back hall towards the bedroom, of all places.

"Jimmy Wayne Dallas, this is not how you treat a lady!"

Squirming proved useless -- Jules's strength was pitiful in comparison to her powerful alter ego, leaving her at the burly man's mercy... for the time being, at least.

The order was harsh and unexpected. There was no jovial attitude, no catty comeback for her exclamation -- and he'd used her last name, no less.

Strong hands grabbed at her wrists and she felt a surge of adrenaline course through her once the heavy weight of the younger man pushed her down into the mattress. This wasn't like their normal playtime -- he smelled of alcohol and smoke, of too many vices before he'd decided to pay her a visit.

Legs and arms began to fight back but it was clear he was prepared for it. More weight was pushed down and for a split second, Julianne Payne debated switching over to Angelite to give her back full control of the situation.

"Did you get the ******** letter?"

Her face drained itself of color at the mention of the letter. Hers had been buried away in the drawer of her nightstand, a sad farewell she'd never been given a choice about. Jules hadn't believed it for a moment - it was too ridiculous, even for Knot, to be true. And while the girl was wild, she wasn't heartless... so to leave without even saying goodbye...

He barked another question out at her and before she could snap back, he was forcing a kiss onto her mouth and sharing just how many vices he'd partaken in before bursting into her small home.

Once he drew back and his grip loosened, though, she took full advantage.

"You a*****e, do you think I'd let her just leave like that?"

Small hands didn't try clawing their way away, not when she could plant both palms firmly across his chest and shove with all of her civilian might. The kiss still lingered, the taste of alcohol more than apparent. Her own anger was rising, the accusation of his questioning not gone unnoticed.

"What kind of woman do you take me for, Dallas???"

The fist came down and moved the mattress, her head dipping down as the impact was still a little too close for her liking. The anger was still fresh in her, being tossed around, being accused of hiding things... that is, up until his next question hit her.

She'd taken the boathouse. She'd mentioned the cousin, Jules had skimmed that portion too, caught up in the whirlwind of Knot running off to join some ridiculous circus story. But the Negaverse?

The blonde woman stilled when he mentioned the organization, blue eyes narrowing. What did he know about the Negaverse? Had Knot known about it -- had they done something to her?

And yet, it was his latter question that had her frowning again. Her heart hurt and she could tell his was hurting too but there was too much confusion going on, too many mixed signals. Her body was still running on the high - part had been expecting other sorts of action while another part was still in fight or flight response from his aggressiveness.

Hands grabbed the front of his shirt and she yanked him forward, teeth gritting as she growled out, "If you did something to that girl, Jimmy Wayne, I'm gonna slap the scruff clean off of your face."

The kiss would leave a rash, without a doubt, the scruff scraping against her skin and causing beard rash within moments. Her bottom lip stung from the bite but he hadn't gotten away unharmed, not with the way her own teeth were behaving.

The threat left her riled up, energy singing in her veins as his teeth grazed her neck, the kissing traveling south. Before she could concoct a plan of escape, he was already shifting and trading spots, as if freely giving her the opportunity to run off.

She did not.

"Don't get attached?"

He was free game. Her hands could find his trachea in a second flat and she could crush it if she wanted to.

She did not.

Instead, hands released the shirt she still clung too and she let a fist sail - smacking him directly on his sternum.

"You come and go as you please - the hell you say, you getting attached."

She knew it wasn't fair - his relationship with Knot had been a close one. She gave him a run for his money and took his boat to boot - they were good for each other and now his shadow had disappeared and he was left with only himself to contend with.

Him and a nurse that wasn't as sympathetic as she probably should have been to the grieving cowboy.

Grieving. This was Jimmy Wayne Dallas grieving and as hard as she wanted to stay mad at him, as badly as she wanted to throw him out of the house for daring to treat her anything less than the respectable woman she was, Jules found herself leaning down to stare right into those pretty eyes that knew better than to get attached to someone like Knot Halyard and had anyhow.

It was her turn for her voice to lower, blonde hair falling down over her shoulders as the fresh lovebite on her throat continued to sting.

"I didn't ask for this bullshit either, cowboy, but here we are."

The anger behind his words began to wane and she huffed when he tried to correct his comment, especially following it up with such a dolt-worthy question.

One leg dismounted from off of his lap, the other soon following as she took a seat beside the large man still sprawled across her bed, legs tucking themselves beneath her. One hand rose up to find his, de-threading it from her hair as she squeezed it, eyes making a very distinct point to roll at him.

"She's not dead, you dummy."

The hand fell into her lap and smaller fingers began idly playing with the calloused palm of a man who wasn't afraid of hard labor and had the scars to show for it.

"She'll come back." Her voice was confident, as if she was trying to sell the story to herself as well as the man laying next to where she sat. "She'll come back and she'll probably be happily married to that Russian Romeo of hers by then and who knows. Maybe they'll have a kid when she springs up on us again."

She cracked a small smile.

"God forbid they end up naming him Dallas, though."

She snorted at that. He was a true red blooded American if there ever was one. It'd serve him right if the kid came back with a name that was Russian for Jimmy or something to that effect.

"What, that you're a bad bluffer?"

Her toying paused as the grin grew wider, hand squeezing his before finally releasing it. "Nah, I'll take you as you are."

She paused, as if giving the comment a second thought and then she was finding her way back on top of the large cowboy, straddling him with one leg on each side of his burly chest. Hands came down to his shoulders and squeezed playfully, bracing herself as she did her best version of "pinning".

"That is, as long as you're not going to pull a stunt like today on me again. You don't want me pullin' out my secret weapon, Jimmy Wayne. I shoot to kill."