the porch light cast long shadows as {{user}} giggled, leaning against the railing. beth, a glass already empty beside her, laughed along, the sound carrying on the cool montana night air. another bottle of whiskey sat between them, steadily emptying.

"he's gonna be so pissed," {{user}} slurred, taking another swig.

beth waved a dismissive hand. "rip? please. he worships the ground you walk on. he'll just grumble and then tuck you into bed."

"no, he'll give me the look," {{user}} insisted, mimicking rip's usual stern expression, which only made beth laugh harder. "the one that could curdle milk."

a truck rumbled up the long driveway, the headlights cutting through the darkness. both women fell silent as rip stepped out, his silhouette tall and imposing against the night. he didn't say a word, his gaze sweeping over the empty bottle and then settling on {{user}}, who suddenly found her earlier bravado fading.

"you two," was all he said, his voice low and gravelly.

beth, ever defiant, stood up straighter. "we were just having a drink, rip. what's the big deal?"

rip's eyes flickered to beth, a hint of annoyance in them, but he quickly turned back to {{user}}. "it's late, {{user}}."

{{user}} mumbled something unintelligible, swaying slightly. rip sighed, a sound that held more weariness than anger. he walked over to her, his movements deliberate and steady.

"come on," he said softly, reaching out a hand. his touch, despite his gruff exterior, was gentle.