For Both Of Us

by Firefox


Chris looked in the mirror for what felt like the fiftieth time. A rather apprehensive and anxious face looked back at him, green eyes a little too bright, face a lot too edgy, though the couple of hours sleep, a shave and a shower had eased some of the taught lines from the features. He pulled a comb through his thick blond hair and stood back – checking himself over in the reflection.

Black polo neck sweater tucked into black jeans that everyone else always swore were too tight but he found comfortable, black leather belt with a large silver buckle – a Christmas present from Vin – and an almost new, long, black leather jacket.

Great. He looked like a fuckin’ undertaker. Oh well, too late now.

He sighed. Why the hell was he so nervous? And why the hell did he feel so bloody stupid?

Damn Buck and his ideas – this was all his fault. Damn Wilmington – stickin’ his nose in where it didn’t belong. Turnin’ up here uninvited in the middle of the goddamn night, all smiles and good advice. Helping with the chores, cooking lunch, watching old movies, then calmly suggesting that Chris invite Vin and Cooper out to dinner, to give them all a chance to get to know one another without the other members of the team, albeit unintentionally, getting in the way.

"Or, as Ezra would say, ‘obfuscatin’ the situation’", was what Buck had actually said.

"Buck, you are definitely spendin’ too much time around Standish."

Buck had just grinned. "Ain't Ezra we're talkin' 'bout here Stud - it's you… c’mon Chris, think about it logically fer a minute – you know how Vin is… he’s probably just soundin’ this guy out – tryin’ to work out the best way of tellin’ him about you’s two…" The indigo Wilmington eyes had bored into Chris’s like lasers. "If Vin thinks a lot of this guy, values him as a friend, he’ll want to handle it right, just like you wanted to handle it right when you told me – remember?"

Chris did remember. It still ranked as one of the most frightening things he’d ever done – telling his oldest friend he was in love with another man. And Chris had had the advantage of Buck already knowing Vin, not to mention the fact that Chris had seen Buck damn nearly every day for more years than either of them cared to remember. How would he have handled it if Buck had turned up out of the blue, like Cooper had?

As usual, Chris thought, Buck had made sense. The relationship Chris shared with Vin was something very special, but there were plenty of people who wouldn’t see it that way, and Cooper might be one of them – especially if he and Vin were old friends.

Of course, if Chris’s suspicions were correct about Vin and Cooper, then that lit the problem from the other side altogether – probably making it even more complicated to handle.

Either way, Buck’s idea of a civilised dinner to assess the situation was a sound one.

Chris had phoned the Marble Star Restaurant – quiet, good quality without being flashy, and not ‘personal’ to him or Vin, and booked a table for 3 before he changed his mind, then phoned Vin, who had been delighted with the idea. Tanner had sounded perfectly normal on the phone.

"And you were expecting what Larabee?" Chris asked his reflection. "You were maybe expectin’ Vin to admit that he an’ Mr photographer had been relivin’ old times? Havin’ one for the road on Vin’s couch, maybe?"

The reflected eyes clouded a little.

"An’ now I’m talking to myself…get a grip, for God's sake!" The admonishment seemed to work – the face in the mirror actually tried to smile.

Before he could think about it and change his mind, Chris grabbed his keys, wallet and cell phone, and left the ranch, heading for Purgatorio and what promised to be a very interesting evening…

7~7~7~7~7~7~7

The faded green front door of Vin’s fourth floor apartment opened in response to Chris’s knock, and Mitchell Cooper stood in the hallway, stepping back to let Chris in.

Despite his best efforts to prevent it, Chris felt the hackles rising on the back of his neck as Cooper half-smiled at him. The smile did not reach the brown eyes – it barely made it to the corners of his mouth.

"Hi – come on in", Cooper said, turning and walking away from Chris, rubbing his long dark hair with the towel that was draped around his shoulders as he went.

He was handsome, there was no doubt about that – tall, broad without being overblown, the navy blue t-shirt he was wearing emphasising a breadth of shoulders that the leather jacket had successfully hidden yesterday. Tanned arms, decidedly more muscular than Chris’s or Vin’s, narrow waist and long legs encased in blue denim. And that goddamned hair – still damp, it glistened – the loose curls shining like jet ribbons. Chris gritted his teeth. Oh God – he was right about this guy – he could feel it.

"Where’s Vin?" Chris asked, looking round for evidence of Tanner and finding none.

"Market", Cooper answered, "we ran out of a few things."

We? Chris wanted to shout, What’s with this ‘we’? You aren’t part of any ‘we’! You don’t live here – you’re just a goddamn intruder. He said nothing.

He sat down on the sofa in Vin’s living room, looking for evidence of blankets or pillows to show that someone had spent last night sleeping on it – there was none, and his stomach contracted into a tight knot, suspicion and jealousy vying to override one another. Both of them made Larabee feel nauseous.

Cooper stuck his head out from the kitchen, where he had retreated. "Coffee?"

"Black, no sugar – thanks" Chris said, without meaning it.

A few moments later, Cooper appeared carrying two mugs. He placed one on the coffee table in front of Chris, before seating himself in the low-slung armchair opposite and regarding Larabee with those plain chocolate eyes. It was a direct, challenging look, and Chris felt the glare building as he returned the stare.

A hostile silence reigned for long moments before Cooper broke it.

"Why are you here?" he said softly.

Chris snorted. "I’m not the one who should be answering that question."

The brown eyes widened in feigned surprise and the dark head tilted to one side. "Oh, I see… you think I owe you an answer, do you?"

"As it happens, yes, I do", Chris’s voice was low and soft, "though I doubt you’ve got the courage to come up with an honest one…"

Cooper gave a harsh laugh. "And what the hell makes you think you know anything about me or my courage?"

"I know that I don’t trust you, and most people who can’t be trusted are cowards." The voice was still low, almost silky, and combined with the glittering green eyes, the effect was chilling.

Cooper, evidently, did not feel the cold. "Vinny trusts me." A twist appeared at the corner of his mouth, just a slight upturn that could have manifested itself into a smile or a sneer, but stopped before either.

Chris almost shuddered at those words, heavily tinged with meaning, yet hiding their true nature. He stared at Cooper. There was nothing to be read in the man's face – no malice, no lust, just a blank, unreadable countenance. A mask. To hide what? What game was this guy playing? Who the fuck was he? Chris felt something cold and black clawing its way up into his throat. "You play games with him Cooper, and I’ll…"

"You’ll what?" He cut Chris's words off - quickly. The sneer appeared now, fully formed, and the brown eyes burned with defiance.

Chris turned the glare up to full power, as if the force of what he felt could wither his opponent on the spot.

"…I’ll make sure you have to go somewhere a fuckin’ lot further afield than Colombia to get away from me", he hissed.

Cooper put his coffee mug down on the table and stood up, taking a step towards Chris and leering down at him.

"If I do… I’ll take your sharpshooter with me… or don’t you think I could?" he taunted, eyes sparking now.

He bent lower, almost into Chris's face, his voice a low, mocking whisper. "He’s real sweet, ain’t he? Them big blue eyes, that tight little ass – ‘n all wrapped up in that sad, lonely childhood. So attractive …. quiet, lost, vulnerable, wantin' … s’enough to turn any guy’s head, ain’t it?"

That was it. Chris sprang off the sofa like a mountain lion leaping for the kill, knocking the table over and sending the mugs arcing through the air, trailing waves of hot coffee. He grabbed Cooper by the throat with one hand and by the hair with the other and pushed him backwards across the small room, his rage boiling in a searing torrent through his veins as he thrust the bigger man up against the wall.

The speed and sheer power of the attack, combined with Larabee’s years of training, more than compensated for their difference in height and weight. The strong hand around Cooper’s throat began to squeeze as the green eyes bored their way into his face.

Still the guy wouldn’t quit. "Why should it matter to you?" he rasped in a half-strangled choke, dark eyes blazing.

Chris’s lips were pulled back over his teeth in a feral mask of rage. "Because…", his voice sounded as constricted as Cooper’s, emotion turning it into a harsh, grating whisper, "you… twisted… piece of shit,… I… love… him, and if you hurt him, I will follow you to hell and back, and then…I…will… take… you… apart… one… fuckin’… bone… at… a… time...you got me?"

Totally without warning, Chris felt Cooper go completely limp against the wall, the hardness in his face relaxed, and he held up both arms in a gesture of surrender.

Chris could not believe it when he saw a smile – a real, genuine smile, lift Cooper’s mouth, even though his hand was still firmly around the guy’s throat. Chris was so astonished, he relaxed his grasp on the hair and allowed the hand that was constricting Cooper’s windpipe to ease its grip, just a little. Cooper kept his hands up, exactly as if Chris were holding a gun on him, but he shrugged and smiled. "You win…you c’n let go now…"

Chris let his hands drop, but was still wired, on edge, his weight balanced, ready to bring down Cooper in a split second if he had to.

Cooper stayed exactly where he was, against the wall, still with his arms up to demonstrate he was not going to fight. A huge grin was plastered across his face, in complete contradiction to his stance.

"I am sorry…really", he said levelly, brown eyes now warm and completely guileless, "…but I had to be certain…"

"What?" Chris’s confusion was obvious.

Very gently, Cooper lowered his arms.

Still keeping his eyes locked on Chris's, he spoke quietly and calmly. "It’s okay Chris – Vinny told me about the two of you…"

He paused for a moment to allow that to sink in, before continuing in the same even, low voice. "I just wanted to be sure that you felt the same way he so obviously does… and you obviously do", he added with a quick grimace, allowing one hand to rub his burning throat, "…so, if you can resist taking me apart for a few minutes – I’ll explain…"

Cooper was grinning fit to burst, and Chris suddenly felt as if he’d been caught red-handed doing something, though at the moment he wasn’t at all sure what, exactly, except that Cooper was no longer acting like a jerk, and now looked like a totally different person to the one who had been taunting him a few moments ago.

"Shall we sit down?" Cooper said gently, sensing that Chris was not at all sure what had happened in the last five minutes.

"I am sorry", he said again as they sat back down in their original positions, Cooper righting the table but leaving the spilt coffee where it lay for the moment. "I just couldn’t think of any other way of finding out for real whether or not you were genuine about Vinny."

Green eyes, a little calmer now, but still wary, flashed. "You could have asked me."

Cooper shrugged. "And you could have lied and I might not have been able to tell… I figured the only way to be certain was to get you so damned mad at me that you would act from your gut, instinctively… and a man’s guts are usually pretty honest..."

He smiled and rubbed a hand around his throat, "…and let me tell you, there aren’t too many people in the world I’d have gone through that for… you got one powerful temper there, Mr ATF Agent…"

Chris actually grinned. "You ain’t the first person to tell me that…"

"Vinny said you had a ‘dark side’ to ya – I’m just glad the fuse weren’t too long – I ain’t much of an actor, an’ I didn’t enjoy doing that one little bit…"

Realising he had been well and truly duped, though still not entirely certain of the reasons for it, Chris's reply was completely honest. "Believe me, from where I was sitting, you just earned an Oscar…"

Cooper laughed and moved forwards in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at Chris intently.

"Now I know your secrets, I guess I oughta fill you in on mine…" he said quietly.

Chris felt slightly uneasy. "What ever you and Vin were… is… well, I mean, it ain’t any of my business…"

Cooper shook his head. "It ain’t what you think… despite my little ‘performance’… that was all for your benefit… oh, I love Vinny – never be in any doubt about that Chris, but not how you mean… it’s more like you and Buck…we’re like brothers…"

Chris frowned. "So why were you so evasive when Ez and Buck were asking about how you met? I thought…"

"You thought wrong…" Cooper said. "I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure what they already knew, or what Vinny wanted ‘em to know. Until I was sure, I was gonna keep quiet."

"Are you sure now? How did you two meet? When? Why hasn’t Vin ever mentioned you? And why haven’t you been in contact with him?"

Cooper held up one hand. "Whoa! I’ll tell you everything you wanna know, but I think it’s probably easier if I start at the beginning…"

"I think that would be a very good idea…"

Cooper took a deep breath. "My mother was a hooker, I never knew who my father was, an’ I doubt she did either. I used to kid myself that, 'cos of my hair, he was an Indian – a Sioux warrior I decided… but the truth is, I don’t know…never did, and never will. I was about six years old when she went out for cigarettes one day - just walked passed me on the porch an' waved… and never came back… I sat there, on the front porch, just waitin’ fer her… it musta bin hours… I remember it got dark, 'n I was still waitin'…someone, one of the neighbours I guess, I never did know for certain… phoned the police – next thing I know, I’m in a black ‘n white… I figured I was goin’ to jail…", his eyes had a faraway look, and for just a second, Larabee had a quick flash of that frightened, bewildered child and his heart turned over.

Cooper grinned, a wry, quick smile. "Well, I didn’t go ta jail – they turned me over to the Texas Child Protection Services, an’ I ended up in Waterfields Children’s Home… " The voice dropped a little. "…I guess I’d bin in there ‘bout six months… it was okay actually, not too bad…ya got fed regular, sent ta school, laundry done…" the voice trailed off for a moment. Chris sat unmoving, waiting, almost dreading what he was certain was about to follow.

"One night we wus sittin’watchin’ tv, the usual gang o'kids, when the door opens an’ there’s one o’the social workers – ‘n she’s got this kid with her – jus’ standin’ there he was – like a little statue next to her… kinda leanin' ta one side…all three foot of ‘im, tryin' ta look like he was six feet tall… face like stone…set…fixed…still as rock… that’s what I noticed right off… he wasn’t cryin’… all the new kids, all they did was cry – but not this one – he jus’ stood there – skinnier’n a pile o’sticks, pale as death… but no tears…"

Cooper took another quick, shallow breath, and looked at Chris, a spark of something appearing in his eyes. "What I remember best, tho’… hell, what I’ll never forget… is them eyes… them great, big, blue eyes – this grubby, skinny little kid, with this intense, tiny little face all swallowed up by them huge blue eyes… all eyes, he looked… the oldest goddamned eyes I’d ever seen…y’know?" Cooper swallowed. Chris was transfixed. He knew. Oh God, he knew.

The soft almost-whisper carried on – memories finding a voice. "He glared at us all like he was ready to take us all on… all spit ‘n vinegar…" Cooper grinned quickly, flashing a look at Chris, who was grinning too.

"I guess ‘cos I’d bin there a while… they asked me to look after him… y’know, show ‘im the ropes… Well, me ‘n skinny Vinny, we wus kinda joined at the hip from then on… he slept in the bunk under mine, we walked to school together… we walked home together… we ate together…we was inseparable…lookin' out fer one another - watchin' each other's backs…"

Cooper stopped, sucking in a huge breath, and Chris had some idea of just how difficult this was for him.

Eventually, he looked down, closed his eyes, and took up the story again. "We decided that we were never gonna be separated… promised each other…we made plans… I remember on the way home from school there was this field full o’horses… Vinny loved horses… we used to hang over the gate ‘n he’d make this little clicking noise, an’ these horses, they’d all come trotting over to ‘im… we decided we wuz gonna buy a ranch together an’ breed horses… just as soon as we cud get outta school ‘n get some money together…" The eyes opened, a wistful expression crossed his features, and was gone almost before it registered.

"…Neither of us had any family, so we decided we’d choose to be brothers… one night we snuck out an’ went to visit the horses ‘n Vinny said we’d gotta be real brothers, not jist say it – so we had us this little ceremony… I had a penknife… we cut our palms, then held hands and joined our wrists together with an elastic band… blood brothers, just like my Indian chief father would’ve wanted… ha!" he laughed - a swift, bitter noise that seemed to slice through the air like a knife.

"… Well, we walked all the way back with our damn hands clutched together, bound up so tight in this elastic band, they wus turnin’ blue…" a lop-sided smile, strangely reminiscent of Vin’s, flared across Cooper’s face.

"A few weeks later… Vinny comes rushin’ inta dinner, all of a lather, sayin’ they’re gonna take him away… they got a family for ‘im… well, we weren’t gonna let that happen… we couldn’t be separated, we just couldn’t, we'd promised each other… so we decided we’d run away…" The smile faded, and Chris noticed the broad shoulders tremble slightly. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think of a single word to say.

"It was rainin’ like the angels wus tryin’ to drown us all… a terrible night… me ‘n Vinny, we waited until lights out, then we got dressed… only problem was we didn’t have no coats… it wus the middle o’summer… but the rain was comin’ down somethin’ awful… so we put our bathrobes on over our clothes, snuck down to the kitchen to steal some food… as usual, all there was left was cold mashed onion an’ potato… then we crept out of the pantry window… I tell ya, I ain’t ever seen rain like it, afore or since… we was soaked inside five minutes… well, we knew we couldn’t get far in that weather, so we decided to hide… the home had a coal bunker, so we crawled in there… dark, filthy, but we figured nobody’d come lookin’ fer us there… we was so afraid they’d take Vinny while we wus asleep, we tied our bathrobe belts together in the most complicated knots we could manage… knots we thought would stop ‘em getting ‘tween us…then we just held onto each other an’ waited fer the rain to ease up…The police and staff found us the next mornin’… two skinny little kids, fast asleep, covered in coal dust, in wet bathrobes with the belts tied together… …They took Vinny, an’ two weeks later I was ‘placed’… by the time Vinny came back, I was gone…" his voice choked, and Chris reached out and placed a comforting hand on one wrist – an instinctive action. Cooper’s brown eyes latched onto Chris’s green ones, and in an instant, understanding flowed between them. The brown eyes were fighting to keep their composure. "I let him down…. I broke my promise and couldn't keep us together… 'n that was the last time I saw him… until yesterday…"

A silence fell. A silence so hard and full of pain that neither of them had any idea how to fill it.

It was Mitch’s soft voice that eventually shattered the quiet. "But I never forgot him Chris… I swear to ya… they wouldn’t tell us anything… I ran away three times, from three different foster homes, to look for 'im… but I couldn’t find ‘im… I couldn’t find ‘im…" he scrubbed a hand across his face, then looked up, shaking his head, trying to regain his self-control, a struggle which he appeared to be in imminent danger of losing.

Chris had no words – too many feelings were reeling around in his head and his heart for him to put together a coherent sentence. He could only begin to imagine what Vin and Mitch had suffered, and the scars that remained from those old, untreated wounds.

Something else, obviously more pleasant, came into Mitch's memory, and he pulled a face at Chris. "Coupla real rebels we were", he said, grabbing a handful of his lustrous hair and holding it. "That’s what this is all about… the home always made us have our hair real short… me ‘n skinny Vinny, we’d both hide when it was time ta go to the barber’s… this is our badge of defiance… our six year old way of givin’ authority the bird…some things I guess ya never grow out of…or never forget… so I don’t have m’hair cut, except when I have to… an’ every time, every single time, I think of Vinny…"

Chris held his hand out to Cooper. A gesture of apology, forgiveness, understanding and compassion to a person who had tried to help Vin at a time when he had needed it the most. Mitch reached forward, past his hand, clasping Larabee's forearm in the familiar warrior’s grasp that was such a special part of Chris and Vin’s communication. He smiled at Chris’s wide-eyed expression. "Where’d ya think he learned it?" he asked with a grin. Chris gripped the strong forearm in return, without speaking, but he was smiling.

So much more of Vin made sense now. It was as if Cooper had given him a glimpse of something precious, distant but yet still here, still inside Vin, part of his heart and soul. Never again, Chris vowed, would he tease Vin about his hair, or feel his irritation rise when Vin couldn't sleep, fidgeting and restless, afraid to relax . Never again, because now, thanks to the man sitting opposite him, he understood why.

Cooper took a deep breath, back on a slightly more even keel. "So… what else do you wanna know?"

Chris shook his head. "Just how long it’ll take me to apologise properly…"

Mitch grinned. "Forget it… you ain’t got nothing to apologise for… I baited you on purpose 'n I'm sorry fer that - but I hope you realise now, why I had to know… for certain…"

Chris nodded. "If our situations had been reversed - I’d like to believe I'd have done the same thing… and I take back that remark about your courage - I don't think I could've been more wrong…"

"When he told me 'bout you - heck, all he's talked 'bout for the last twenty for hours is you… well, I admit I was a bit sceptical…Vinny's no fool, but he's all heart… " Mitch said frankly, "I owe him… I couldn't let him down again Chris, …. I just couldn't…I wanted to be sure he was safe this time…", the words held real feeling, " but I’m sure glad you admitted how you felt afore you strangled me!"

Chris's voice was full of compassion when he spoke. "You didn't let him down Mitch - not back then, and not today…you don't know it, but you two are very alike, and I don't think either of you are capable of lettin' a friend down…"

At that moment they heard the key in the front door, and Mitch looked up at the clock. "Damn boy never did have any patience! I told him to wait at least forty five minutes!"

Chris laughed. "You told him?"

Mitch almost blushed. "I told him to make hisself scarce for a while… this had ta be ‘tween you an’ me… an' he trusted us both enough to give us that…"

Vin appeared a moment later, wide-eyed as he emerged around the door. He spotted the mugs scattered on the floor and the puddles of coffee, and his eyes flittered from Chris to Mitch and back again.

Larabee and Cooper both smiled and Vin’s face split into a huge grin. "What's bin goin' on here - you two bin' dancin?"

"No, not exactly", Chris said carefully.

Mitch smirked at Chris. "We did get 'toe-to-toe', kind of… only Chris wanted to lead all the time…"

"Yep - 'n I tol' ya he’s meaner’n a rattler when he don' get his own way…" Vin looked at the two of them with a knowing expression.

"Yeah, you did, but ya didn’t tell me he’s faster’n one as well!" He eyed Larabee. "You came off that couch like a rocket…" he whispered.

Chris just eased a blond brow upward and shrugged at the compliment.

"So.." Vin said, sticking his thumbs in his belt and cocking his head to one side, "…you two done discussin' me, or whatever the hell it was you needed ta talk about, then?"

Chris looked at him - Vin Tanner, who had so often believed that no-one really cared about him, but who was unaware of just how extraordinary he was, and how deeply he affected people. It didn't matter a damn whether Vin was six or sixty, he would be walking into people's lives and illuminating their souls - and they would never be quite the same again. And the two other men standing in this room with him were testimony to that.

Vin looked around the room, then back at them. "I don' know what's bin' goin' on here… an' I ain't altogether sure I want to, but as you's 'r both all smiles, I take it we are goin' out fer dinner?"

"Don' know where he puts it all - eats like a machine…" Chris said in a stage whisper to Mitch.

"Always did - even cold mashed onion 'n potato…" Mitch replied.

7~7~7~7~7~7~7

It was raining. Chris could hear the drops pattering on the window behind the drawn shades. It wasn't quite light yet, the familiar furniture in the room just beginning to emerge from darkness into the muted soft grey tones of first light.

His eyes were open, but he kept perfectly still, knowing that the slightest movement would wake Vin, and unwilling to do that until he absolutely had to. Vin was in the one place he seemed to be able to sleep deeply and peacefully, enfolded in the warm, strong circle of Chris's arms - beside him, against him, a perfect fit, every dip and curve melding to his own, the long, smooth, supple body so close that Chris couldn't tell where his ended and Vin's began. Tanner's head was pillowed on Larabee's right shoulder, warm breath whispering against Chris's neck, a mass of unruly curls almost shrouding the sleeping face. One long arm lay loosely draped across Chris's chest, one bent leg lay folded over his right knee beneath the covers. They breathed in total unison, and Chris could feel Vin's steady heartbeat against his side, matching his own as if they were one living being, existing in two bodies.

This was one of those moments that Chris wanted to keep forever. Lock it away, safely, so that he could return and savour it over and over again. So much of their lives was taken up with danger, fear and risk, it made these silent moments of complete contentment and peace infinitely more precious. Warmth, safety, quiet, calm - all denied Vin for so much of his life that Chris took fierce pleasure in providing them for him whenever he could. His eyes lowered to the slumbering figure he held so securely against him, and he felt that familiar surge of passion, wonder, heat, tenderness and total peace that only Vin had ever inspired in him. Only Vin had ever released in him. Only Vin.

With a stab of hot anguish, he thought of two little boys, soaked and huddled together in a coal bunker, knotted bathrobe belts their only defence against separation, fear, loneliness, and a world that they felt had rejected them. If his love and protection now, could heal even a tiny part of that cold, aching pain of then, he would hold Vin until he died doing it.

The increasing light brought the room into clearer focus, and Chris's eyes rested on the new framed photograph that sat atop the dresser. It was a stunning, 10 x 8 glossy, taken by Mitch on his last day with them, and showed Chris and Vin leaning against a rail fence, both laughing, the barn and Peso and Pony visible in the field behind them. A fraction of time, frozen - a single shot that captured the essence of everything that was so special and so important to them both. Mitch had seen it, caught it and given it to them to keep.

It had arrived several weeks ago, in a package addressed to Chris and Vin at the ranch, posted in the Middle East, where Mitch was stopping over as a pre-cursor to trying to gain access to Afghanistan. Mitch went wherever the good pictures were waiting to be taken - and, if it was good pictures you were after, Chris had decided, Mitchell Cooper was the man to be taking them. Once you got to know him, there was a lot of Mitch visible in his pictures - his sense of style and artistic eye definitely, but more than that - he saw things in people that he managed to capture on film, preserve for ever.

There had been something else in that package - a flat, sealed brown envelope with 'Chris' written on the front. What had been in that envelope was now locked in a drawer in Chris's study, too precious for him to share just yet. He wanted to keep it under lock and key until he could look at it without his heart somersaulting.

It was another photograph, taken that same day. It was Vin, completely unaware of Mitch's lens trained on him, leaning on his elbows on the gate to the field, relaxed and happy, looking out at the view with those amazing eyes, a gentle smile on his face. No spectres, no bad memories were visible in that expression, a rare moment of true happiness, unguarded, open and honest. His Vin. Those eyes had almost filled the frame - Vin's unique, wide, blue, wondrous, ancient, soul-reflecting eyes.

Chris had gasped when he first looked at it - a perfect image of the other half of his soul, captured by someone who understood exactly what that meant.

Turning the picture over, he had seen a message:

C,

Thanks to you, he has the horses, the ranch, the life and the love he always deserved.

I will owe you forever for keeping my promise.

Over to you, cowboy -

Love him for both of us

M.

And Chris had made a silent promise of his own in return.

I will Mitch, I will. For both of us.

~ The End ~

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