Careless Whisper

by Carla

Thanks to Mady for letting me use her take on Vin as a U.S Marshal and the events that led Vin to become a member of Team 7 in her most excellent story Out of the Frying Pan, Into The Fire.

Time can never mend, the careless whisper of a good friend. To the heart and mind. Ignorance is kind. There's no comfort in the truth. Pain is all you'll find Careless Whisper - George Michael

Full circle. Yep, that about sums it all up. Cause, here I am, once again, sittin' alone in a dark, dingy bar, thinkin' on the way things were and tryin' ta drown all my regrets in a bottle of whiskey.

My name's Tanner...Vin Tanner. I work for the ATF. Team 7. Maybe y'all have heard about us? We're gettin' kinda famous. Folks have taken to callin' us, "The Magnificent Seven." You know, like them seven cowboys from that old movie.

Now, I'm not the braggin' kind, but that name really does fit us, or, it did fit us. We weren't one of the best, we were the best. Yep...The Magnificent Seven. Problem is, we ain't so magnificent right now, and after what I did, we ain't even seven anymore.

Guess I'm probably confusin' y'all, so I better start at the beginnin'. I'm not what you would call a talkative guy, hell, I don't really say much at all, but I got a story to tell, so I'm gonna tell it. This is what my good friend, Ezra, would call one of them there "cautionary" tales. Damn. Ole Ez would be impressed with that. 'Cept, I can't really tell him. Don't know what he's thinkin' about me right now. Anyway...

I'm the Team sharpshooter, the guy who watches everyone else's backs, who makes sure that we all come home at the end of the day. Ah, but not this time. This time, I did what no thug, mobster, gunrunner or even pencil pushin' bigshots could do. I single-handedly took down the Magnificent Seven, and I didn't even have to fire one shot to do it.

Ya see, Team Seven has been together for a couple of years now. I was the last one to join. Now, me, well, I was what ya might call a loner. I spent most of my life like that. Guess when ya get passed around from foster home to foster home, ya learn not ta get too attached, and that was a hard lesson that stayed with me through my whole life. Gotta tell ya though, when I ran away from the last foster home I was ever in, I was just a kid, but I was used ta being alone and of being leery of people, and that served me real well in those days.

I ended up enlistin' in the Army as soon as I was old enough. Didn't have much education, couldn't see any other way off of the streets. So, when they said, "Uncle Sam Wants You," I figured I'd take him up on his offer, specially seeing that no one else wanted me. Army life wasn't so bad. I mean, I got a roof over my head, three meals a day, and pretty much didn't have ta think about anythin' else...The Army did my thinkin' for me. Yep, it was a pretty easy way of livin', easy that is, until they saw me shootin' my rifle. Then life wasn't so easy anymore.

A Natural. That's what they called me. And before I knew what was happenin', I was transfered out of my unit and sent ta play with the big boys. I was sent ta trainin'. I learned how ta survive being lost and alone in enemy territory, how ta survive being captured by the enemy, and most important, I learned how ta shoot and kill the enemy. One shot, no questions and I sent them knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door...or in some cases, hell's door. I was a U.S Army Ranger sniper. And I was damn good at what I did. Guess that makes people kinda nervous, even the guys whose backs I watched. Being a sniper is a lonely job, but I was used ta that. Doesn't make it easy ta make any friends though, so I didn't try all that hard.

Yep, a lot of what I did back then don't sit too well with me. But orders are orders, and I followed them. I can't really tell ya what I did, 'cause if I did, then I'd have ta kill ya. Aw, don't get nervous. I'm only jokin'. Truth is, things just weren't black and white then, they were gray...lots of shades of gray.

When my time with the Rangers was up, I decided to move on. Didn't want to re-enlist. I just couldn't do it anymore. So I went back home, back ta the mean streets of Purgatorio. Course, at least this time, I wouldn't actually live on them streets. I got an apartment, and thanks to the Army, I got a GED, and even graduated from the community college. I bounty-hunted for a while, but I wanted ta make a difference in the world, so I went where I knew that my experience with trackin', and my skill with a rifle would do the most good. I became a U.S Marshal.

Working for the Marshals was a dream come true for me. I was doing great, loved the job, and I worked well with my first team. Eventually, I was recruited by a Captain Nealson, of the Denver Office of the U.S Marshals. I was real surprised and, okay, flattered when Nealson told me that he handpicked me. The man was known as one of the best leaders in the Marshals. The offer was just too good ta be true, and too good ta pass up. Well, if there's one thing I've learned...If it's too good ta be true, it probably isn't. Hell, it wasn't.

Anyway, things were getting pretty bad for me at my job. I had a partner, went by the name of Elias Joseph Banks, EJ, for short. Well, ole EJ just seemed ta live for causing me nothin' but trouble. He was involved in lots of underhanded things, and went out of his way ta make me look bad. Seems whenever somethin' happened, or somethin' went wrong, EJ always found a way ta place the blame on me. Now, it didn't take a genius ta know that Banks had connections where it counted, including our boss. I knew I was gonna go down for somethin' that EJ had done. It was only a matter of time.

At about the time that I really started ta worry about my job, we got an assignment. We were gonna be working with an ATF team on a joint bust.
The buy went down, and all of a sudden, bullets were flying everywhere. I saw one of the ATF agents standing in the line of fire, so, I just took off in a full out run and knocked him out of the way. Turns out I saved the man's life that day, and although I didn't know it at the time, I changed my own.

See, turns out that the man I saved was Nathan Jackson, ATF agent, and paramedic for what eventually came ta be known as Team 7. Nathan's boss, Chris Larabee, spent some time talkin' ta me after the bust. For whatever reason, I just started tellin' him all about my situation at the Marshal's and how I knew I was heading for big trouble.

Chris made it his business ta find out all he could about me, even got a look at my files, and the man believed me. So, ta make a long story short, Chris made it so that I would have the last laugh on Captain Nealson and EJ. See, Chris Larabee recruited me, and the rest, as they say, is history.

+ + + + + + +

It took me some time, but I soon found that I fit in with this team, in a way that I never fit in anywhere before. As time went by, I found myself doing somethin' that I hadn't done since I was just a little fella. I let my guard down. I began ta trust all the members of the team real gradual like, but one I trusted completely right from the start. There were no walls for Chris Larabee ta break down with me, he didn't have to, 'cause I just knew that he was what I had been missing in my life for so many years. Yep...knew it, like I knew the sun would rise and set everyday. Guess sometimes you don't really know what you think you do.

All of us on the team have come to think of each other as family, a band of brothers. Now, when ya spend as much time together as all of us do, well, ya start ta believe that there ain't nothin' that ya don't know about each other. I guess for the most part, that could be true. But there was something about me that the guys didn't know. I had a secret. A secret that I had never planned ta let see the light of day. But you know what they say about the best laid plans.

Ya know? They won't get you laid the way you planned. Always thought that was kinda funny.

Anyway, in this line of work, specially working with a bunch of hard as nails, rough and tough guys like this bunch, well, there are just certain secrets that should just stay in the closet, so to speak. But sometimes what you should do and what you do do...well...they're just two mighty different things.

Guess you can probably figure out where I'm goin' with this. I like men. I don't mean in the let's be pals type of way. I mean, like the Preacher would say, in the biblical sense. Ha! And Josiah thinks I don't listen ta him. If only I was thinkin' with my brain, and not my dick. Damn, none of this would have happened. If only. Worst fuckin' two words ever said.

It all started innocently enough. We were all hangin' out at Inez's Saloon. Drinkin' and relaxin'. The night stretched on, and we were all feeling no pain. Course, ya know, when the drinks keep flowin', well, it tends ta cause loose lips. It wasn't long before Buck Wilmington, our very own Romeo, had us wide eyed and open jawed with the details of his latest romantic liaison, with a set of twins, no less. Ha! Liaison. Another Ez word. See, I really do listen. Soon, everyone was tellin' stories. Even JD Dunne, known to all of us as the Kid, had a few tales. Truth be told, they were a bit more rated PG than X. If ya get my meanin'.

The night was wearin' down, and I knew that the guys wanted my story. See, I had a few lady friends who I would take out every now and then, or whenever I needed to show up with a date. They knew the score, and no one got hurt. Kept the guys from asking too many questions. But not tonight. So what could I say? Guess what, guys? Not really interested in the ladies. I really just want ta fuck our boss into next week. Oh yeah, that would go over just fine and dandy. Sad thing is, that was exactly the truth. Okay, not the complete truth. I didn't want ta just fuck Chris, I wanted ta love him. Love him forever. Didn't know why it happened. Didn't know how ta stop it from happening, but I loved and was in love with Chris Larabee. Had been from the first few months I'd joined the team.

Truth is, I'd been wonderin' if Chris was feelin' a little somethin' for me, too. Now, I know what ya'll are thinkin'. It was probably just wishful thinkin' on my part. Well, I'm not one for puttin' much stock into wishes. I learned real quick that wishin' and wantin' pretty much leads straight ta dissappointment, and I was used ta getting by with what I needed, 'stead of what I wanted. But I've been on my own since I was a kid, and I survived cause I knew how ta read people. People just don't realize the kinda signs their bodies and their eyes send out. But I know. And Chris was tellin' me lots.

Chris is not a touchy, feely type of guy. But, he didn't seem ta mind puttin' his hands on my shoulders. The man has a thing 'bout his personal space, but he never did mind if I was standin' in it. And worry? Damn, the man was always worryin' over me. Shit, I'd rather get in the way of a bullet than deal with Larabee frettin' over me. Well, okay, that ain't exactly true either. I really kinda like Larabee frettin' over me.

Now, before ya'll burst, I know all that don't amount to a hill of beans. I mean it all seems innocent enough, just the man actin' like a friend. And yeah, I know ya'll are just dyin' ta bring up the dead wife. But she's been gone a long time now, and yeah, he'll always love her, but Chris has been among the livin' for awhile now. He's moved on. So don't even go there. Anyway, it was what I saw in his eyes. There was just somethin' there, in the way he'd look at me, when he didn't know I was aware.

I know I wasn't seein' things. I know I read the signs. I couldn't have fucked up so completely...Could I?

Shit! Well, back to the bar. The guys were waitin' for me ta start talkin'. I noticed that when it was my turn, Chris kinda straightend himself up and was paying real close attention ta what I was gonna say. Damn, the way he was lookin' at me, I felt like the last piece of chocolate cake in a room full of chocolate lovers. Shit!

Lucky for me, I ain't a kiss and tell type of guy. So I just stare right back at Larabee, hell, if I'm the cake, then he fer damn sure is the frostin', and I give him my best lopsided, boyish grin, which I'm told, drives the ladies (and a few guys) crazy. I didn't say a thing. The guys just complained and moved on, but Chris, well, Chris just shakes his head and smirks at me.

When it's Chris's turn, he just talks about some of the crazy things he did with some woman named Ella. Course, my pants got a bit uncomfortable when he mentioned that she nicknamed him, Bareback Larabee, and why. Damn, I just couldn't get the picture of Chris all nice and nekkid like on a horse out of my mind.

Should have known my imagination was gonna lead me inta trouble...Shoulda, woulda, coulda. More fuckin' words I can do without.

So, Chris is tellin' his story, and me, I'm thinkin' that Inez oughta crank up the a/c, cause I'm feelin' hotter by the minute. Well, maybe it was just me, 'cause no one else seemed ta be bothered. Anyway, I'm thinkin' that it's funny that the only stories Chris ever tells are always about before he got married, and some while he was married, but never after his wife passed on.

Now, I'll admit. I was still a little buzzed from all the drinkin', and I was way too caught up on that Bareback Larabee picture in my head, but I got ta thinkin'. Maybe I ain't the only one with a little secret. Maybe good ole Chris got himself a secret too. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. And that kinda thinkin' started me down the road to my own personal hell. I'll tell ya now, what I shoulda remembered then. Thinkin', drinkin' and being horny makes ya nothing but stupid and turns your brain ta mush. Damn!

We closed the place down and everyone went on their way. Me and Chris were the only one's left in the parking lot. My jeep and his truck parked side by side. That always seemed to happen. Anyway, we was just enjoying the silence when Chris stops at my jeep and he asks me, "So, pard, what's the story that you didn't want to tell in there?"

Aw, Hell. Now, I'm still thinkin' of how much I want ta get him out of his pants and inta mine. And me, the guy who don't believe in makin' wishes, is wishin' for nothin' else but for Chris ta know how I feel about him, and how much I want ta fuck him and be fucked by him.

Guess he can see that I have somethin' on my mind. He says to me, "Come on, pard. You can tell me, I'm your best friend, remember?" Oh yeah, I remember all right. Shit! "Come on Vin," he says, "it can't be all that bad." Then he goes and gives me a grin of his own. Fucker.

Well, I remember in some movie that I saw, the guy says, "stupid is as stupid does." Ain't that the truth. I'm lookin' at Chris, he's lookin' at me, lookin' sexy as hell, grinnin' at me, and he's got this look in his eyes, like he was gonna get that last piece of cake after all, and hell, those damn lips of his. Well, fuck. I'm only human. I couldn't help myself. I just look at him, lean in, kiss him with all the passion and longin' that I felt. I pull away from him, and tell him, "I love ya, Cowboy."

Now, if it wasn't me who's fuckin' heart got crushed, I'd be on the floor laughing my ass off. If ya coulda seen the look on Chris's face. The man was positively struck dumb. Shock, horror and hell, even a bit of terror. All of a sudden I ain't feelin' so much like laughin' anymore. I'm even gettin' a bit worried. I mean, the great Chris Larabee, meanest badass on the planet, all silent and stunned.

"Chris," I say. Trying to snap him out of it. "Chris!" I yell. Well, for whatever reason, that worked. He shakes his head and looks at me. I start to say somethin', and he just starts walking to his truck.

"I gotta go," he says. Nothing else. Just, "I gotta go."

He gets in his truck, and let me tell you, I ain't never seen a truck move so fast in my life. It was like the damn thing was on them there steroids or somethin'. He burned more rubber leavin' that lot, and he didn't look back at all. Gettin' inta my jeep, all I can hear is Ezra's voice, "A catastrophe of epic proportions, Mr. Tanner." Shit! Even when the man ain't here he gives me a headache. Shit!

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! How could I have been so stupid? 'Cause your brains are in your pants, that's how, Tanner. I can just see my tombstone now...Here lies Vin Tanner, absolute proof that stupid is as stupid does. Know what? I hated that stupid movie.

I leave the parkin' lot, and head for home. I try to call Chris on his cell phone, but he don't answer. No surprise there. I give him some time to get to his ranch and I try again. Still no answer, and still no surprise. Okay, so I try a couple a' million times more, and I finally accept the fact that he ain't gonna answer, so I leave a message on his machine. Hoping that I don't sound as desperate as I feel, I say, "Just call me, Cowboy. Please."

It's Friday night, actually two a.m. Saturday, and I know I'm gonna have the whole weekend ta think about this. Ya know, all the guys, they seem ta think that me and Chris can read each other's minds, that we always know what the other is thinking or is gonna say or do, and I guess we really do read each other that easily, but man, not this time. This time, we weren't on the same page. Hell, we weren't even readin' from the same book. Yep, all weekend to go over this. Shit! Did I mention the fact that I'm fuckin' stupid, stupid, stupid?

+ + + + + + +

The weekend passed as slow as I knew it would. It was Sunday, and I didn't hear from Chris at all. I figured I'd just leave him alone, and hope that I still had a best friend on Monday, not ta mention a job.

Monday sucks, for no other reason than it's Monday, and this Monday was no different. I was the first one in the office, as usual, but this was no usual day for me. The guys all came in and everything seemed fine. No one made any remarks, an they were going about their business the way they always did, so I figured that Chris didn't tell anyone what happend. I started ta relax, thinkin' that maybe things weren't as bad as I thought. I was doing just fine. Fine, that is, until Chris walked through the door.

Yep, he walked in the door, and acted like he acted every single fuckin' day since I started workin' here. Now, call me crazy, but it ain't everyday that your best friend puts ya in a liplock and tells ya that he loves ya, and hell, I don't know what I thought would happen, but I didn't expect that he would be so...so...normal. Well, I ain't one ta look a gift horse in the mouth, and I learned my lesson about that whole 'stupid' thing, so I decided that I'd just keep my mouth shut about the whole thing. Well, that was the plan, but y'all remember what I said about those best laid plans.

So, here's Larabee, tryin' like hell ta act like everythin's the same, like nothin' at all ever happened, and failin' completely. I'm guessin' that the rest of the guys had a feelin' somethin' was off, but they didn't know what I knew, which pretty much got me into this fuckin' mess in the first place. So, everyone just thinks that Chris is in one of his moods. But I know the truth. Boy do I know, and Chris was gonna make sure that I never forgot it either.

See, as the days passed, Chris started actin' all business like with me. And all of a sudden, that personal space of his that he never had any problem sharin' with me, well, that was not happenin'. Yep, ole Chris pretty much put up a no trespassin' sign. Cross it, and I'll shoot you dead. And all of a sudden, the man was doing lunch with a different lady every day. God, he even started gettin' cozy with Mary Travis. Well, he wasn't foolin' me. I know for a fact that Chris don't feel anythin' for Mrs. Travis. He told me as much. After all, the woman gives new meanin' ta the word 'frosty.'

Gotta admit though. I was gettin' pissed. I mean, I knew the parade of woman was for me. I got the message. The man didn't have ta act like a gigolo. Yep, Chris Larabee, super stud, ladies man. Ain't no man gonna go where no man's never gone before. Only ladies need apply. Bastard.

So, I put up with all this shit for a while. Chris barely talked ta me, wouldn't be alone with me, and pretty much ignored me, unless it was job related. Well, by the second week, I'd had enough.

Chris was in his office, so I just decided ta mosey on in. He looks up at me. He don't seem the least bit surprised that I'm standin' there. "What do you want, Vin?" he asks.

Ta fuck you senseless, I'm thinkin'. But somehow, I just knew that was not the thing ta say. So, I let out the breath I'm holdin', look him straight in the eye, and tell him, "I'm sorry, Chris."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Vin. Nothing happened."

"Nothin' happened?" I say. "I was there Chris, and somethin' definitely happened."

"I told ya, Vin. As far as I'm concerned, nothing happened."

Okay, I probably shoulda just left it alone at that, but hell, this was nuts. The man was treatin' me like I killed his puppy or somethin'. Pretty much actin' like I wasn't in the same room with him, and he wants ta say nothin' happened. Well, fuck that!

"Chris." I said. "I kissed ya, and I told ya I loved ya. Seems like a whole lotta something ta me."

"You were drunk, Vin," he says.

"I wasn't drunk," I said.

He goes all Lord of the Glare on me, and tells me, "I said nothing happened. I don't want to talk about this ever again. Let it go."

Damn, I felt like I was in that Oz movie. The all powerful Chris Larabee has spoken. If ya got somethin' ta say, well, it sucks bein' you. Don't let the door hit ya on the way out.

Chris decides ta ignore me again, and gets real interested in his paperwork, and me, well, I figure I'm fightin' a losin' battle, so I just turn around and go back to my desk.

So, I bet y'all are thinkin' that things can't get much worse then this, right? Here's a little piece of advice for ya. NEVER say that. I mean, that's just askin' for trouble. Things can always get worse. Fact is, they usually do. And yeah, for me, they surely did.

A couple of days had passed since I tried to talk to Chris and discovered that he decided that we should both get a case of memory loss. It was a long week, and I was more greatful than I can say when the clock hit five p.m. on Friday. All of us head out ta Inez's on Friday's after work. It's kinda become a Team 7 tradition, and today was no different. Common sense told me that with all that happened, and with Chris's attitude towards me, I should just skip it, and go home. Who ever said I had any common sense anyway?

Inez's Saloon is a big ATF hangout. On a Friday, it's pretty packed, and it's always loud and rowdy. Inez is pretty tight with Team 7. We're kinda the unofficial peace keepers of the place, and Inez gave us our very own table in the corner of the saloon. No one sits there when the seven are in the house.

I was pretty much just drinkin' beer. Like I said before, drunk and horny leads ta stupid, and I'd already been there. No way in hell was I makin' a return trip. Guess Chris wasn't the least bit worried 'bout takin' a trip ta the land of the drunk and brainless, 'cause the man was suckin' down whiskey like it was water.

I went up ta the bar ta order another round. The sharpshooter from Team 3 was there, and we started ta talk for a bit. We're talkin'all friendly like, and I smile at a raunchy comment he made about a 'lady' sittin' at the bar. Well, I turn around and I'm lookin' right at Team 7's table, but I don't see anything but Chris starin' right at me.

+ + + + + + +

For a guy who made it painfully clear that he was not interested in what I had ta offer, Chris sure was takin' stock of my goods. I caught him starin' at me a few times over the past two weeks, but tonight, he wasn't just starin', he was leerin' at me. I swear, he even licked his lips. I tried to shake that image from my mind, and I reminded myself of how much Chris was drinkin'. But, I couldn't help feeling that Chris had been actin' the way he thought he should be towards me, rather than the way he really wanted to be. Damn, how'd things get so messed up?

I head on back to the table, and Chris looks up at me. For a second, when I look at him, I look right in his eyes, and I'm a bit taken back by what I see. Sadness, desire, love, maybe even some compassion. But most of all, I see my best friend again. I can't help myself, I let my own mask drop and I know my eyes are showin' all of what's in my heart. I can feel the smile on my face. I start ta try and talk, but the words die before they ever escape my lips.

Guess Chris wasn't too happy with what he saw in me in that moment, and in the blink of an eye, the old Chris, my best friend, dissappeared and the new one was back, and mad as hell at me. There wasn't a trace of understandin' on his face. The man was leerin' at me again, but there was nothing sexy about it, this wasn't an "I want to get you nekkid and fuck you all night long" type of look. Nope, this was sinister. At this point, I'm kickin' myself for coming here. I knew I should have gone home. I throw a quick look around the table, my eyes fixin' on Chris again, the hair on the back of my neck is standin' up, I feel the cold pain of dread going up and down my spine. Yep...should have gone home, 'cause this night had disaster written all over it.

There are lots of stories about Chris Larabee. Some are exaggerated but most have a grain of truth in them. There's one thing that is true about Chris, one thing that everyone knows about him. The man can drink most men under the table, but even Chris gets drunk. Problem is, when Chris Larabee gets drunk he gets real mean and nasty. He's cold and cruel, and he shoots first and asks questions later. Sadly, he was aimin' that gun right at me. Yep... a disaster in the makin'.

I sit down and let out a long sigh. I'm tryin' ta prepare myself for whatever Chris has planned for me, and I wonder, not for the first time, why can't Chris just be flattered? Why can't he just say thanks but no thanks? Hell, no. Not Chris. That would just be too damn easy.

To my surprise, Chris doesn't say or do anythin'. Conversation at the table picks up, and I start ta relax a bit, thinkin' that maybe I might just get out of this mess in one piece. Should I remind y'all about that 'stupid' thing again?

JD starts ta horse around a bit with me, he has his arm around my shoulder and he starts ta tell me a joke, a funny joke, believe it or not. Anyway, we both start laughin', and that's when Chris's evil twin decided ta fuck with me, and I don't mean fuck in a good way.

"JD," Chris says. "You better watch yourself with him."

Hell. I think. Here it comes...

Ready...

The whole table quiets down.

JD looks at Chris, totally confused, and he says, "Watch myself, with Vin, why?"

Now, I'm starin' at Chris, Chris is starin' at me, and everyone at the table is gettin' whiplash from lookin' back and forth between the two of us.

I take a quick glance around the table, and I can tell by the smiles and shakin' heads, that the guys think this is a set up. They think that Chris is gonna pull one over on JD. But I know that this is no joke, ain't nothin' funny about where this is headin'. So, I look at Chris, and wait.

Aim....

"Listen up, everyone," Chris says. Now, Chris Larabee is the type of guy who just naturally gets your attention. He don't have ta yell. Ya just can't help but ta listen to him. But, Chris is drunk, and he's loud, so not only is our table listenin' to him, but most of the damn saloon is too.

He looks at me, and hell, if I don't want ta just slap that stupid, fuckin' evil lookin' smirk right off of his face. He knows he's got everyone's attention, so he just moves right along.

"I know something. Something that our very own sharpshooter don't want anyone to know."

Well, the place is gettin' quieter by the minute, the rest of the guys are getting nervous. They can tell by the tone of Chris's voice that this ain't no joke. They look at me, and they can see that I'm lookin' like a deer in the headlights, and I'm about ta bite through my lip.

Chris's voice breaks through the tension and everyone is once again all ears.

"Seem's Vin has got himself a big secret that he don't want to tell any of you. But he told me. Now that just don't seem fair. Does it?" he says.

Now, the guys are getting really confused, and worried. Part of em want's ta just up and leave, but, the curiosity is killin' them, and I know they ain't goin' nowhere.

Chris looks straight at me again, and I know what he's about ta do. I know I have ta stop this, but I can't, for the life of me, figure out how.

Gettin' everyone's attention again, Chris starts saying, "Our good friend, Vin, well..."

"Chris..." I say.

The bastard just looks at me. I know he ain't gonna stop now. He starts ta talk again.

"Chris. Don't." Hell, I sound so damn pathetic. "Please don't do this ta me." I say. "Please." Hell, I didn't just say it, I was pleadin' with the man.

I might as well been talkin' ta the wind. Chris puts this big smile on his face, the cat that ate the damn canary kinda smile, and I know I'm fucked. Once again, not in a good way. I stand up from the table, thinkin' that maybe I can get out of here before Chris says anymore. Talk about wishful thinkin'. Shit.

Fire....

Good old Chris, he downs a shot of whiskey, and as clear as day, he says, "Our buddy Vin is playing for the other side, guys. Yes, sir. Our prettyboy likes to bend over and spread em."

Hell, the place was so quiet you could've heard a pin drop. I actually feel the color drainin' from my face, and I have ta grab the back of the chair 'cause my legs feel like rubber. But Chris, the bastard, he wasn't quite done with me yet.

"And," he says. "All this time, not only was he watching our backs, but he was watching our asses too." Well, the bastard was on a roll now, and he was ready ta put the last nail into my fuckin' coffin. "Guys," he says. "That ain't even the best part. See, my best friend here wants to spread em' for me. He's in love with me."

I'm standin' there, shakin' my head. I'm hopin' that I'd just wake up from this nightmare, but no such luck. I can hear the people in the bar whisperin', the gasps of shock, and even the snickerin', and I know that every eye on the place is shootin' daggers at me.

I looked at the faces of my friends, and I wished that I hadn't. Hell, if I'd'a got nekkid and fucked Chris right on the table, they wouldn't have looked more shocked and pissed off. They all turn their eyes on me, waitin'. I can see the questions. I can see the denial, and I can see that they ain't feelin' all that friendly or brotherly towards me.

I turn my eyes ta Chris. I don't think even he can believe what he just did ta me. Did he feel guilty? Did the booze all of a sudden wear off, and he realizes that he just flayed me alive? Well, I didn't really give a fuck what he was thinkin'.

I tune out all the talkin' around me. I look right at him. And I find my voice, and it's strong and clear. "You really are a cold-hearted, fuckin' bastard." I say ta him.

I turn around and walk towards the door with my head held high. I can hear all the vulgar comments, the guys in the bar whistlin' at me, some yellin' at me to drop my pants and show my tight little ass, some saying what they thought I'd just love ta have shoved up my tight little ass, and some sayin' even worse things. As I'm almost out the door, I feel the spray of a drink that someone threw, that just missed me. Last thing I hear is someone laughin' and tellin' Chris that if he didn't want the pretty boy, then he'd take me. Oh, that got lots of laughs. Fuck. From respected sharpshooter, to a fuckin' bar room joke. Thanks for nothin', Chris.

I get to my jeep, and it all just hits me. Chris outed me. My best fuckin' friend outed me. And not just ta our friends, but ta half of the Denver ATF. I sit in the parkin' lot, and I'm just stunned. How the fuck could he do that to me? How?

The fact that no one, not one of my so called brothers, said a word ta defend me in there, or even came out after me, tells me all I really need ta know. I feel my world crashin' around me, and all I want ta do is run. I start up the jeep, and I head for home. I don't even remember the drive.

I walk up the four flights of stairs, and I go into my apartment. I hear every word that Chris said. Over and over, and over again. Every damn word. I vaguely wonder why I don't feel anythin'. Shouldn't I feel somethin'? I'm just empty. So completely and totally fuckin' empty.

I go into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I don't understand. I look at myself, really look at myself. Am I any different? Does the fact that everyone knows that I like men make me any different of a person than I was before they all knew? God, I just don't understand. My friends, my brothers, just stood by while I was held up for a public stonin'. Worse, the one man that I loved and trusted more than anyone else in the world, led the way, threw the first rock.

Hell, I know that kissin' the man wasn't the smartest move I ever made, but, was that really such an unforgivable crime? Shouldn't everythin' we've done for each other and been to each other before that stupid kiss and confession count for somethin'? Shouldn't it?

I hear it all, and it won't leave me be. I hear them laughin' at me, talkin' about me, and ruinin' me. I can't stop the stomach churnin' pain I feel in my gut. I can't stop thinkin' about this whole fuckin' night, and I'm not surprised when I have to kneel down at the porcelain throne and I throw up.

The fuckin' bastard outed me. I feel so sick, and it's not because the truth is out, it's because even with all that he did to me, all that he cost me, nothin' has changed. I still love and am in love with the almighty Chris fuckin' Larabee. God, I need to throw up some more. Fuck!

+ + + + + + +

Once again, I found myself left with a whole lotta weekend and no plans ta do anythin' but sit and ponder everythin' that happened. Hell, I think I'm gonna make sure that I have ta work weekends from now on, I just seem ta get into a whole heap of trouble on Fridays. Guess, I better think about a job, before I start worryin' about that. Anyway, I was really doin' more broodin', than ponderin'. Spent a lot of time just feeling sorry for myself. I mean, it ain't everyday that your life just up and falls apart.

I tried ta get busy. Figured there was always somethin' around this apartment that needed fixin, and for awhile, that kept my mind off of things. But, once the phone started ringin', well, I knew there was no escapin' the fallout from the bomb that Chris had dropped.

I figured this would be a good time ta start screenin' my calls. Good thing too, cause it would have been a damn tragedy for me ta have missed the one from the heavy breather, or the one from the gay datin' service, or hell, my favorite, the one from the guy claimin' ta be on parole, and wantin' me ta know that he wanted me ta be his bitch. Yep, didn't want ta miss any of that.

Oh, I got calls from the team, heard em' all sayin' that everythin' was gonna be okay. Saying how things got outta hand at the Saloon, and that I had nothin' ta worry about, nothin's changed. I was still part of the team. They weren't mad at me. Well, wasn't that just fuckin' big of them.

Shit! They could pretend all they wanted, but everythin' for damn sure had changed, and I was done with pretendin'. Hell, even though I didn't see them, I could hear the unease in their voices. Yeah, nothin's changed. 'Cept that I once had friends and brothers, and now I don't.

As much as I tried not to, I started ta think on what I was gonna do now. I didn't know if I still had my job. I mean, the ATF is one of those 'don't ask, don't tell', kinda places, and they might not have asked, but Chris sure as hell told. And too fuckin' bad for me, but there were way too many bosses at the Saloon that heard it. So, if I did have my job, I probably wouldn't have it for much longer, and hell, I don't know if I could ever go back anyway. Oh yeah, what was it I was saying about a disaster?

I decided ta put on some music, and I found myself watchin' the sun set from my window, and gettin' caught up in the sad songs. Hell, could this get any more depressin'? There were songs about love lost, love thrown away, love never returned. Shit. Guess, one night stands ain't such a bad thing after all. Slam, bam, thank-you man. No love, no problem. Just too fuckin' lonely.

I musta been more caught up in the music than I thought 'cause I never heard anyone in the hallway. I only realized that someone was there when I heard the knock on my door.

I was thinkin' that maybe one of the guys got elected ta come see me in person, and truthfully, I wasn't in the mood ta be nice and friendly-like, but I figured the sooner I got this over with, the sooner whichever one of em' it was would go away.

Well, imagine my fuckin' surprise when I opened the door and came face ta face with the head bastard himself.

I got over the shock of seeing the asshole pretty quick, and shock turned into mad just as fast.

"Chris," I say.

"Vin," he says.

Oh yeah, this was really goin' great so far, don't ya think?

I step back a bit into the apartment and wait for Chris ta step in. And y'all know what he does? Nothin'. The man just stands there and doesn't move.

I'm getting well and truly pissed. I mean, what did the arrogant bastard think I was gonna do? Rip his fuckin' clothes off and fuck his brains out? Well, okay, the thought did cross my mind, but only for a minute.

I watch him standin' there, and I say to him, "I ain't gonna have this conversation in the hallway, either come in or leave."

I walk away from the door and sit down on the couch.

I guess we were havin' this conversation after all, 'cause Chris finally came in, and he sat down on the chair across from me.

I'm sittin' there, givin' him a nice glare of my own, and Chris, he gets real interested in his shoes. The silence in the room is deafenin'. I let out a huff of breath. I'm about ready ta kick him the hell out of here, when he finally looks at me.

"Vin," he says. "I'm...I'm sorry."

He's sorry? I think to myself. "How fuckin' nice for you." I say.

I know how sarcastic I sound, and so does Chris. But, damn it, I'm feelin' more than a little bitter at the moment. Fuckin' kicked to the curb and kicked in the head and thrown away like yesterdays garbage. Yep...that would be bitter all right.

"I...I don't know why I did it, Vin." He says. "I was drunk, and I just couldn't stop myself. I...Hell....I know that's no excuse. I'm just so, so sorry."

I look at Chris. Look right into his eyes, and I know that he's telling the truth. He is sorry. It's written as plain as day on his face. Suddenly, I don't feel so mad anymore. I feel myself being crushed from the weight of his guilt, by my feelings for him, and under the truth that saying "I'm sorry" won't make any of this go away and more than anythin' else, crushed by the knowledge that I know I wasn't wrong, I didn't misread the signs, and that doesn't even matter any more.

"Tell me somethin', Chris." I say. "Is your problem really with knowin' the truth about me, and how I feel about you, or is it all about you and how you really feel about me?"

Chris ain't the type that likes ta have the tables turned on him, and now he's the deer in the headlights. Let me tell ya, it ain't often that Chris Larabee is in the spotlight, nekkid for all the world ta see. Oh, damn. Now I gotta get that image out of my head.

"Was I wrong? Chris. Just tell me that. Was I wrong?" I ask.

He looks me right in the eyes, he tells me, " I do love you, Vin."

I musta looked a little too hopeful, 'cause like those old west gunslingers, he aimed his gun, took a shot that was fast and true, and shot me down with a bullet in my heart.

"But, not like you want," he says. "I love you like a brother, Vin. It will never be anything more than that. It can't be anything more. I'm sorry."

I felt a blanket of sadness wash over me. I heard what Chris was sayin', and I knew that it wasn't me he was tryin' ta convince, but himself. God, this was breakin' my heart, and not only for me, but for Chris, because the man was lyin'. Lyin' ta me, and lyin' to himself.

Any anger that I felt had died. I only wanted ta make this easier for Chris. I wouldn't push it with him. I just wanted ta be what he needed the most and that was his best friend.

I reached out ta him, puttin' my hand on his arm. I started ta say that I understood. I never got the words out. As soon as my hand touched him, Chris jerked away from me. It was as if my very touch was burnin' him.

I watch as Chris rushes to the door. I can feel the burn start behind my eyes, and I know that they're turnin' glassy and wet. Before he walks out the door, Chris turns ta look at me. His eyes reflect the sadness that I know he's feelin' inside. His voice is low and bearly above a whisper when he says, "It will never be anything more, Vin. Never. You just have to accept that. I'm sorry." And then he walks away.

I watched him go, and I knew at that very moment that I had just lost everyone, and everythin' that I had loved and that had any meanin' ta me. Nothin' would ever be the same. An overwhelmin' feeling of despair crashed into me, and I felt the tears flow freely from my eyes. I didn't even bother ta try and stop them. They were all I had. All I was ever gonna have.

So, that's how I ended up in this dingy little bar, and that's my story. Yep, I'm sittin' here, drinking ta the memory of the Magnificent Seven. Here's ta my best friend, the man that I love with all that is inside of me, but who made it clear that he won't let himself ever love me. Here's ta my brothers, and the life that once was mine. Here's to the ATF, and ta the new sharpshooter that will most likely take my place. Come on, everyone, drink up.

Funny, this damn whiskey ain't workin'. It ain't helpin' me ta forget that I'm once again alone in the world and left with a whole lotta nothin'. And why?

Why? All because of a kiss and a careless whisper.

The End

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