(Sequel to Them's the Breaks)
Main Character: Chris, Vin, Buck and Ezra
DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Trilogy, MGM, Mirisch etc and were used without permission. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made.
English spelling has been used in this story.
Vin Tanner was bored. Bored, bored bored! He glared down at the casts adorning his ankles. Why did it have to happen? It wasn't fair! It wasn't. Sure he had played an exceptionally successful practical joke on Buck, but that had been in retaliation for things Buck had done to him, so he did not deserve the unkind twist of fate in the form of the accident that had subsequently resulted in his being imprisoned in the spare room at Larabee's ranch.
Well, perhaps 'imprisoned' was a bit of an exaggeration ... but only a bit. It just wasn't fair! He was bored with lying in bed. Inactivity always galled him and to be unable to even walk was devastating. It had been bad enough when Chris had been present, but it was worse than ever now that his whining and complaining had driven Larabee out of the house and back to the office.
Of course, immediately after the accident it had been all go. Buck had scooped him up and carried him inside, Nathan had diagnosed two broken ankles and then he and Chris had driven Vin to the medical centre. After an excruciatingly long wait, Vin had been finally wheeled into x-ray and was subsequently offered a choice of cast colour.
"White!" he had said firmly, determined to prevent the teasing his previous Wilmington-selected, pink cast had inspired.
"I'm sorry, Mr Tanner, that's not one of the options," the nurse said.
"What have ya got then?"
"Well, there's blue and ..."
"That'll do," Vin interrupted.
Blue was a nice, inoffensive colour. He could live with that. At least, that was what he had thought until he emerged from the clinic.
The first person he had seen as Larabee wheeled him out to the clinic's car park was Buck Wilmington, flanked by Josiah, JD and Ezra. Buck had grinned broadly, before asking solicitously, "Everything all right, Slick?"
"Yeah."
"I see you've chosen a pretty colour for your casts."
"It ain't pretty!" Vin insisted.
"Course it is! It just matches those baby blues. Mrs. Carstairs will be in raptures."
Vin had glared at him in a remarkably close replica of a Larabee glare, but it had not fazed the scoundrel in the least. Vin had had his fun at Buck's expense and Wilmington was looking forward to exacting a just retribution. It did not matter that Tanner's actions had been payback for two of the ladies' man's pranks, Buck was more than happy to seek revenge. Thus, he continued, in a voice of sympathetic concern that did not fool Vin for a moment, "I really must call her and tell her the sad news. She'll be wanting to wipe your fevered brow and fluff your pillows and when she realizes how difficult that bathing will be for you-"
"Shut the fuck up, Buck," Vin snarled, interrupting hurriedly.
However, Buck ignored him and continued, " ... I am certain she will be more than happy to help care for you. You know the sort of thing: making nourishing little snacks, brushing your pretty curls, assisting with any bed baths that you might need."
"Yes, I could imagine her being so kind as to do that," Josiah added, also smiling, as he observed the outrage, horror and downright fear commingled on the sharpshooter's face.
"Do you really think she would?" JD asked in feigned innocence.
"Indubitably," Ezra replied. "It is my considered opinion that there is nothing that that good woman would not do to ... I mean for Mr Tanner," he corrected.
The deliberate slip of the tongue had not been not lost on the others and it had caused much hilarity.
Indeed Vin was soon bright red with embarrassment at the comments that it encouraged. He tried to stand up in a futile attempt to escape his friends, but Chris put firm hands on his shoulders to hold him in place lest he manage to do himself more damage. Taking pity on Vin, he said, "I'd better get our invalid home now, boys."
"I want to go to my place," Vin insisted. In truth, all he wanted to do was get away from his so-called friends.
"Too bad, cowboy, 'cause you're coming with me," Larabee said firmly. "Hell, you can't walk. You'd never manage alone."
Vin pouted and started, "But I ..."
"But nothing! You'll have to do as you're told for once." He grinned at the others over Vin's head, and added, "That'll make a pleasant change for us all."
Some days later, he was to recall his ill-judged choice of the word 'pleasant' and to wonder what on earth had caused him to forget that the sharpshooter, although normally so even tempered, metamorphosed, when sick or hurt, into the patient from hell.+ + + + + + +
Vin had been quite serious when he had stated he wanted to go home, not least because he was certain that the dreaded Mrs. Carstairs would not dare to enter Purgatorio. Chris' ranch might not prove so daunting to a determined woman.
Fortunately Mrs. Carstairs had not turned up at the ranch, but Vin had been in fear and trembling that she would. She had sent regular messages of good will and other more tender emotions that had Tanner running scared. At least he would have run if only he could have done so, but even standing was still beyond him.
The little notes had come on nauseously scented paper, patterned with a profusion of tiny pink rosebuds, and these were, in theory, from her pen. Actually Vin suspected they were not. Well, in truth, he hoped like hell they were not. It certainly looked like a woman's hand, but he would not have put it past Buck to sweet talk one of his numerous ladies into writing them.
However, apart from the Carstairs' threat, at first things hadn't been too bad at the ranch. Sure he didn't like the fact that Chris had to help him with some very personal things, but it was far better than having a stranger at some hospital assisting him or, horror upon horrors, Mrs Carstairs. And, at first, it wasn't too bad because Chris had taken three weeks annual leave to look after him so Vin had someone to talk to and he enjoyed having Larabee all to himself for once.
However, inevitably Vin became frustrated with his inability to walk and, bored with lying in bed, began to grow peevish and snappy so that the conversations rapidly deteriorated into snarling matches. Larabee's always volatile temper rose rapidly and dangerously, as Vin drove him to distraction. His fingers fairly itched to grab the sharpshooter and shake some sense into him.
Indeed, one evening he had come very close to doing just that.
The boys had all called to visit and a surly Vin had got increasingly obnoxious as the evening had gone on. Sure, Buck had been teasing him at length about Mrs Carstairs and had brought yet another note purportedly from that source, but Larabee had felt that the string of obscenities that Vin finally emitted had been uncalled for. "Shut up, Tanner!" he snapped. "I'm sick to death of your childish behaviour. You act like an ill-mannered brat and I'll treat you like one. Any more and I'll put you over my knee and warm your ass for you."
Vin's blue eyes went wide with shock. He was used to the threat to shoot him, but this was different and caught him completely off guard. Then he heard Buck chuckle, as the scoundrel envisaged Chris in action, and realized he couldn't let Larabee get away with such a threat unchallenged. Hell, Buck would never let him forget it and would use the threat on every occasion he could.
Accordingly, Vin questioned cockily, "You and who's army?" He chose the taunt deliberately, if Larabee thought him childish that's what he'd damn well be.
Without missing a beat, Buck had ordered, "Fall in, men!" in his best Sergeant Major's voice and, without a hesitation, the other four had scrambled into line. "Attention!" Four right feet thudded down in unison. Then Wilmington turned to Larabee, saluted smartly and said, "Reporting for duty, Captain Larabee, sir!"
Larabee kept his back to Vin so the latter could not see his grin. "Thank you, Sergeant, I appreciate the timely support, but I believe the enemy might be about to make a strategic withdrawal to his room." Swallowing his grin, he turned to Vin and said, "Bed or apology, Cowboy?"
Vin bit his lip. He knew he had been grumpy, but had been taken aback by his friends' reaction in ganging up on him. Caught up in his own frustrations, he had not realized quite how annoying he had become. "Sorry, Chris, Bucklin ... everybody, I reckon I's outta line ... a bit," he could not resist adding almost under his breath.
"Well, I for one could not possibly reject such a heartfelt and magnanimous apology," Ezra announced, smiling inwardly at Vin's rebellious little addition.
"Yeah," JD agreed, having missed Vin's qualification, "we know being stuck in the house hasn't been any fun for you. We're not really mad with you, are we, Chris?"
Larabee smiled sardonically. "Speak for yourself, kid, you haven't tried living with him."
"But I am certain that brother Vin really appreciates all you've done for him and intends to mind his manners henceforth," Josiah said encouragingly. In fact, he privately suspected that that was impossible for the contumacious sharpshooter, even if Vin had such a laudable intention, which he doubted. However, he hoped to encourage Vin to give Larabee at least some respite from his grumbles. "You are going to try, aren't you, Vin?" he urged.
Cornered, Vin muttered, "I s'pose so." Thus worded, it wasn't a promise as Vin was too honest to give his word unless he could keep it, but Sanchez beamed at him and tried to make it into one, hoping by his reaction to force Vin into compliance.
However, Larabee was not fooled for one moment. Sure there might be a respite in hostilities, but he did not for one moment believe the sharpshooter was going to change. In truth, a pleasant, polite and co-operative Vin would have set alarm bells ringing as he would have wondered what secret mischief was afoot. No, the cheeky, irreverent and stubborn Tanner might be ... Hell, why pussyfoot around it? Was hell to live with, but Larabee had always secretly enjoyed the fact that the stroppy, little bastard would stand up to him when all others quaked in their boots. However, that did not mean that they were not going to butt heads.
However, to Larabee's surprise, Vin was on his best behaviour for the rest of the evening and for most of the following day ... until he realized that Chris was taking Pony out for some exercise.
"Peso needs exercise too," Vin pointed out.
"Probably, but I'm taking Pony."
"But Peso ..."
"Is an ornery beast and can wait his turn," Larabee responded firmly.
"If I came ..." Tanner started.
"But you can't."
"Why not?" Larabee detected a slight whine and knew Vin was rapidly returning to normal.
"Because you have two broken ankles and I don't want to see you with a matching cast round your fool neck."
"I wouldn't fall off," Vin protested.
"Peso might have other ideas. In any case, you can't even get to the bathroom let alone the barn."
"I could iffen ya'd help me."
"Vin, I've been lugging you around for days. I am not carrying you any further than I have to."
"Gettin' weak in yer old age, Larabee?" Vin asked challengingly.
However, Larabee refused to rise to the bait. "Old age does seem to be coming on to me prematurely," he observed. "It must be all the grey hairs you give me." Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed for the door. "Must go, Pony's waiting."
He returned home an hour later to find Vin in a full-blown sulk and soon relations were at the lowest ebb they had reached since Vin's accident.
Two days of that and a fuming Larabee was desperate. He was at the absolute end of his tether. He knew he was going to have to put some space between them or he would be unable to answer for his actions and Tanner would be lucky if he could sit comfortably for a week. Knowing that work was piling up in the office, he finally told Vin that he was heading in to town for the afternoon and that he would have to cope alone.
"Great!" that irritating individual replied promptly, adding for good measure, "I could do with a break from yer snappin'."
Accordingly, Larabee took pleasure in emphasizing Tanner's helplessness by thrusting a bedpan at him and commenting, "I hope you've finally learnt how to use one of these because I might be late."
Vin blushed hotly and glared at him before turning his face to the wall.
So Chris departed, for once certain that Vin Tanner would be unable to prematurely vacate his sickbed.
However, he had reckoned without Tanner's determination. As soon as he heard the Ram drive off, the sharpshooter wriggled head first over the side of the bed and dropped awkwardly to the floor.
Then he crawled determinedly to the chest of drawers and began to pull open the drawers in search of his clothing. However, the only things in evidence were spare pillowcases, sheets and blankets.
Undaunted, Vin decided to purloin some garments from Chris' room. The gunslinger was taller than he was, but he figured a pair of his jeans should fit fairly well. Anyway, it served Larabee right if his clothes were used, both for taking Vin's clothing and for being such a damned grouch.
He found just what he was seeking in the bottom drawer of Chris' dresser. There was a nice pile of black jeans just begging to be borrowed. Seizing the pair on the top, with never a thought as to the likelihood that that might well be the position of Chris' favourite pair, Vin lay on his back, raised his buttocks and awkwardly pushed down the pyjama pants Chris had lent him. Once he had these round his thighs, he was able to sit up and extricate himself fairly easily.
Momentarily, he debated raiding Chris' underwear as well, but that seemed a bit personal and the thought made him blush. No, he'd go commando. That was easier anyway.
Then, grinning as he imagined Chris' outrage, he thrust his legs into the jeans, only to have disaster strike. He had not given a thought to the fact that jeans are much narrower in the leg than pyjama pants, and Chris Larabee's ones were notoriously tight-fitting. Now the sharpshooter found himself in trouble, as his casts stuck tight half way down the lower legs. Cursing, he struggled to pull the jeans over the casts, but the damned things would not move.
'I'll have to try another pair,' he thought, but that was easier said than done. The casts were firmly stuck.
There was only one thing for it. Larabee had lots of black jeans. He would never miss one pair. Vin crawled determinedly for the kitchen.
This time his progress was slow and awkward as he kept kneeling on the jeans bunching around his knees and, in his anger and frustration, he did not give a second thought to the advisability or otherwise of what he was about to do. Reaching up to the knife drawer, he grabbed the sharpest knife he could find and used it to split the jeans' legs, thus enabling his casts to push through. 'I reckon Miz Nettie'll be able to sew them up again,' he thought optimistically, 'and iffen she cain't, I reckon Chris'll not notice one pair of black jeans missin' outta that heap.'
He eased the jeans over his hips and zipped up the fly with some difficulty. "Shit, Larabee, how do ya breathe in these," he complained aloud.
Then he debated going back for a shirt. He reckoned it would probably be warm enough without one and he was anxious to get outside, but the thought of pinching yet another item from the grumpy Larabee appealed, so he crawled awkwardly back to Chris' room.
With quite some effort he pushed a chair across the room to the wardrobe and then dragged himself up onto it so he could reach the wardrobe handle. Opening the door, he perused the contents. 'Looks like I can have black or black or black,' he mused, never for one moment considering the few white dress shirts. He reached for the nearest and pulled it from its hanger.
Clambering down from the chair, he hurriedly donned his new acquisition. The sleeves were slightly long, so he rolled them up to his elbows.
Then noticing a studded leather belt hanging on the back of the chair, he reached for that as well. 'I might as well go the whole hog,' he thought, as he threaded it through the trousers.
He glanced across the room at the full-length mirror and grinned at his reflection, before trying out a Larabee scowl to match his new apparel. 'I'd like to see Larabee's face iffen he could see me,' he thought gleefully, choosing not to consider the likely consequences that could follow such an eventuality.
Getting down awkwardly from the chair, he crawled as fast as he could out of the house and headed for the barn.
The day was actually unseasonably cool, but Vin hardly registered the fact, smiling happily as he thought of Peso. Even the occasional sharp stone cutting into his knees did not call forth his habitual curses. He was too pleased with himself to care about such minor annoyances.
Reaching Peso's stall, he called out, "Hey, mule, have ya missed me?"
As he spoke, he pulled himself up on the rail to pat Peso.
Unfortunately, there was one thing he had forgotten. Peso was used to treats. Vin spoilt him with apples, sugar lumps and lots of other goodies and, having missed out on these for a few days, the big horse was full of expectation.
He began nuzzling Vin's shirt in search of food and then started to bunt his head against Vin in frustration. "Stop it, mule! Ya'll knock me off!" Vin protested. Hanging on as best he could with one hand, he tried to fend the determined horse off.
Peso wasn't having that. His teeth closed on Vin's left forearm. Vin gave a yelp of pain and jerked away, losing his grip and falling backwards.
He hit the ground with a solid thump and lost consciousness.+ + + + + + +
Meanwhile, a guilt racked Chris Larabee was in the process of turning the Ram back in the direction of the ranch.
He had not got far from home when he had begun to have second thoughts about leaving the sharpshooter. He knew how hard the enforced bed rest had been on Vin, especially as his dyslexia denied him the distraction of books, and was wondering if he had overreacted. Under the circumstances he supposed Vin has a right to be a bit tetchy. He'd been too hard on Vin. Now all he could see was a pair of expressive sky blue eyes full of hurt and reproach. He could not stand that, hence his decision to return home.
As he headed back, he called Buck's phone. "Hi, Buck, it's Chris. I've changed my mind about coming in. I reckon I should go back to Vin."
"Good idea, Stud. You never know what mischief Junior'll be up to in your absence. Anyway, there's nothing happening here. Things are as quiet as I've known them, so you aren't missing anything."
"Okay, I'll call you later then."
"Fine," Buck replied, adding, "Don't forget to pass on Mrs Carstairs' fondest regards to Vin."
"Do your own dirty work," Larabee retorted, smiling. Unlike Vin, he was fairly certain that Mrs Carstairs' notes were the handiwork of one Buck Wilmington. Although he was not prepared to spoil Buck's fun, he was also not willing to stir Tanner up further on the former's behalf.
So Larabee headed for the ranch, resolving to be more tolerant and caring towards his charge, but those good intentions were to be of short duration.+ + + + + + +
Vin slowly regained consciousness and peered dizzily around in confusion, unsure, at first, where he was and what had happened. His head and back were aching and he felt sick. A gingerly inquiring hand located a large bump on the back of his head and the stickiness of blood. A wave of nausea engulfed him. Rolling painfully over, he was violently sick and then lay gasping. 'Shit, ya've done it this time, Tanner,' he thought, imagining the likely bruises. 'It's goin' ta be hard to hide this from Chris. Hell, he'll go ballistic iffen he finds out.'
All thoughts of a ride were gone as he grappled with his new problem. Well, obviously the first thing he had to do was to get back to the house and that was easier said than done.
As he dragged himself out of the barn, he became aware of yet another pain and, looking down at his forearm, saw blood oozing from the deep bite Peso had given him. Cursing, he pulled the sleeve down to cover his arm, while wondering how he was going to conceal the injury from Chris. 'Well, I guess there's an advantage in wearin' black,' he thought, 'the blood won't show.'
He started to drag himself slowly and painfully in the direction of the house, fighting down further sensations of nausea.
He was pulling himself awkwardly up the back steps and was tempting providence by starting to think that maybe he could get back to his room and, provided he could keep his arm covered, could hide the evidence of his disobedience from Larabee, when he heard the Ram's unexpected approach.
Knowing there was no hope of reaching his bed before Chris entered the house, Vin immediately turned back towards the barn in somewhat of a panic, but quickly realized flight was not an option for a man who could barely crawl.
What the hell could he do? Then it struck him. It would be better if Chris thought he had caught him in the early stages of his escapade and therefore would not realize he had actually reached the barn. Chris would be mad enough without knowing he had managed to hurt himself. Indeed, if he was really lucky, Chris might be even be fooled into believing that his intention had been merely to get out into the sun for a bit of much missed fresh air.
He heard Chris call out reassuringly, "Vin, it's just me." Then he obviously had reached the bedroom as his voice became louder and tinged with anger, "VIN? VIN! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, TANNER?"
Vin knew he ought to reply, but he was in no hurry to face a thoroughly pissed off Chris Larabee so he waited quietly in trepidation.
Finally the door was flung wide and Chris' eyes immediately fell on Vin sitting at the bottom of the steps. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"N-Nothin'," Vin stammered guiltily, trying not to cringe before the infamous Larabee glare. "I's jest ... jest gettin' a bit of fresh air."
"And just when did I give you permission to do that?" Larabee inquired icily.
Vin bristled at Larabee's tone. His feeling of guilt vanished. He'd had enough of being treated like a kid. "I didn't need yer permission," he responded defiantly.
"You promised to stay put," Chris remonstrated.
"I did! I didn't leave the ranch," Vin protested, arguing when remorse would have served him better.
That was enough. That was it! Larabee blew a fuse. Without a pause for thought, he grabbed the startled sharpshooter and with a surprising show of strength tossed him over his shoulder and headed up the steps.
"Let me down!" Vin protested indignantly, but he was totally ignored. The head down position did nothing for his already swimming head and the thought occurred that it would serve Larabee right if he was sick down his back.
A seething Larabee stormed through the house and dumped Vin flat on his back onto his bed.
It was only then that he paused to consider what Vin was wearing. "You've taken my clothes," he exclaimed, stunned by the sharpshooter's sheer effrontery.
Angry at having been carried and even more at being dumped so unceremoniously, Vin went immediately onto the attack. "That's yer fault, Cowboy."
"And just how do you figure that?" Larabee asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.
"Iffen ya'd left my clothes here I wouldn't have had to," Vin replied in an irritatingly matter of fact tone, as though he was having to state the obvious to someone incredibly stupid.
"There's no 'had to' about it, Tanner. You had no need to go any where. And what the hell have you done to my jeans?" he added, only just noticing their ragged state.
"Cut them," Vin stated with irritating calm as though cutting up someone else's clothes was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.
"CUT THEM? WHY THE HELL D-" Larabee shouted.
Vin interrupted defiantly, "To get my casts through of course."
"Well, you'd damn well better get them off again. NOW! C'mon I've absolutely had it with you."
"Why'd ya come back then?" Vin demanded.
Chris paused and then said quietly, "If you must know I came back because I felt I'd been a bit hard on you this morning. How stupid is that?"
That hit home. Vin gulped. A wave of guilt washed over him. What the hell had he been doing? Stirring up the person who meant most to him, the person who had just spent days and nights looking after him. Hell, nobody before Chris had ever given a damn about whether Vin was sick or lonely or ... 'Yer a fuckin' idiot, Tanner,' he berated himself silently.
Somehow he had to make amends and, he guessed, the best way to start was to follow Larabee's last instruction.
Accordingly, without a word, he undid the belt and tugged it from the jeans, tossing it across the bed. Then he rolled over so his back was towards Larabee and started trying to extricate himself from the tight jeans. Twisting awkwardly, he managed to ease the jeans off his hips and down his thighs and then found that the bunched jeans were reluctant to go over the casts
Chris stood impatiently watching the wriggling ass and then his frown deepened as he caught sight of a label. Shit, his favourite jeans! That fuckin' Tanner had cut up his favourite jeans.
Temper flaring, he reached for Vin, yanked him roughly across the bed and turned the stunned sharpshooter over his knees.
Automatically grabbing the belt, he proceeded to administer several sharp slaps, turning the creamy ass a painful red as the studs dug into the tender flesh.
Caught off guard, at first, Vin lay still, but after the first few smacks, he tried to struggle free. However, the jeans tangled around his legs obstructed him and the stronger man used his free hand to twist Vin's outside arm up his back to force him to stay still.
Biting his lip against the stinging pain, Vin gave up and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going anywhere. 'Fuckin' bastard,' he thought wrathfully, but stopped himself voicing the thought lest he further enrage Larabee.
Anger and humiliation warred within the sharpshooter's breast. He was being treated like a child yet again and he hated it. Being carried in had been bad enough, but this .... He was furious with Larabee and yet ... and yet ... Hell, he noted in embarrassment, part of his anatomy was definitely not objecting to the rough treatment. Oh, God, he could feel himself getting an erection. What if Chris noticed? What the hell would Chris think of him? He had to get away. He started to struggle violently.
However, Chris was too preoccupied with his own feelings to notice. When he had made the earlier threat to spank Vin he had had no intention, certainly no conscious intention, of actually doing such a thing. He had never spanked anyone in his life and was now in a state of total confusion. Guilt at having treated Vin in such a way warred with an unsettling feeling of arousal. Manhandling Tanner had proven unexpectedly exciting. He had never looked lasciviously at another man in his life and now, with that delectable, pale ass across his lap, unsettling thoughts of what he would like to do with the lithe Texan were relentlessly assailing him.
At that moment, Vin started to struggle frantically. Hell, surely Tanner had not felt his erection. Panicking he lurched to his feet, dumping Vin unceremoniously onto the floor, and hurried from the room failing to hear the quickly suppressed cry of pain surprised from Vin's lips.
Heading aching and eyes filled with tears of humiliation, Vin lay where he had fallen for some moments. Chris had clearly noticed his erection and was horrified at Vin's reaction to his punishment. God, what on earth should he do? The one clear thought in his brain was Run! Get away from the ranch and Chris. Gain some space to decide what to do. But how the hell was that to be achieved when he couldn't even walk?
He had no money, so a taxi was out of the question. It would have to be one of the guys. Well, Buck was out. He'd back Chris. JD then? No, the kid would ask too many embarrassing questions. Nathan would turn him down flat and would no doubt throw a lecture about ungrateful patients in as well. Josiah would also refuse, though not as abruptly, no doubt launching into one of his convoluted, moralizing stories that frequently left Vin even more confused than Standish's multi-syllabic vocabulary. No, Ezra was his only real hope.
Ezra wasn't afraid of Chris or, at least, managed to hide his qualms, and frequently enjoyed seeing just how quickly he could set that vein in Larabee's forehead throbbing. No, Vin knew Ezra liked to live on the edge and would agree to help just for the hell of it, even if he had not been on Vin's side. And Tanner had no doubt that was where Standish always stood.
Right from their first meeting the outwardly disparate pair had been unaccountably close. Vin trusted Ezra unreservedly, to the latter's amazement, and Standish found himself sneering at such apparent gullibility while being simultaneously determined to do nothing to undermine that trust.
Getting painfully to his knees, Vin crawled over to the bedside table and fumbled for his cell phone.
Moments later, Standish answered his phone to hear a hesitant, "E-Ez?"
Ezra, who was just in the process of exiting his Jaguar and heading up to the AFT office, after a visit to one of his more reliable informers, immediately recognized the identity of his caller in spite of the shaky whisper. Nobody else employed that appalling diminutive, "Good morning, Mr Tanner, how may I be of service this fine day?"
"Ez, I-I g-gotta ask a favour."
"And what, may I ask, is the nature of your request?" Ezra prompted when nothing more was immediately forthcoming.
"C-Could ya come and get me p-please?"
"Where are you?" Ezra asked, fearing that Vin had somehow managed to leave the ranch and imagining the resultant fury of Chris Larabee.
"At Chris' place."
"Which is exactly where you are supposed to be," Ezra observed, relieved to hear that Vin was at the ranch.
"I-I n-need to go home ... Please."
"I am certain that Mr Larabee would prefer that you remain at his residence until your recuperation is completed to Mr Jackson's satisfaction."
"I cain't stay here, Ez. Ch-Chris is awful mad with me."
"What misdeed have you committed?"
"I didn't ... I-I was j-just ... I didn't ..." Vin stammered, unable to explain what had happened. Unbidden, tears flooded his eyes.
Ezra's sharp hearing picked up what sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Vin, what is amiss?" he asked in some trepidation. "Please tell me what is wrong."
"N-No ... No! I caint t-tell ya. P-Please, Ez, I j-jest need ya to come to get me."
Certain now that Vin was extremely distressed and very worried as to the cause of such upset to the normally laidback sharpshooter, Standish abandoned his habitual circumlocution and stated simply, "I am on my way."
He would have been even more worried had he been able to observe Vin, exhausted by the effort of trying to speak normally while feeling that he was about to disgrace himself by crying or spewing or both, had sunk back onto the floor in a faint.+ + + + + + +
Meanwhile, a desperate and extremely confused Chris Larabee was in his room phoning his oldest friend. "Buck, it's Chris."
Most people would not have picked anything different from Chris' normal tones, but Buck wasn't just anyone. He had known Chris Larabee too long and he also knew the likely cause of any upset. "What's the matter, Stud? What's Junior gone and done now?"
Chris ignored the question and forged ahead. "Buck, I need a favour. Could you put Vin up at your place for a few days?"
"Yeah, sure. Where's Travis sending you?" he asked, assuming it could only be the demands of work that could be causing Chris to abandon his charge.
"Nowhere. I've just ... Vin's just ... I think it's time we both had a break from each other," he finished lamely, unable to admit what he had done. Buck might be his oldest friend, but he could hardly say to him, "I was spanking Vin and it got me turned on. He probably thinks I'm going to molest him and the way I feel I'm worrying that he might just be right." He might not pride himself on being a ladies' man like his friend was, but this ... This did not fit with the Chris Larabee Buck knew or the image Chris had of himself. Shit, he'd been married, and very happily so, so what the hell was happening to him?
Anyway, as he kept trying to reassure himself, there was a chance that he had moved fast enough and that Tanner was not aware of his arousal. If this was indeed the case, as he devoutly hoped it was, then there was no point in making a confession and just exacerbating the situation. No, this was definitely a time for 'least said, soonest mended', assuming that anything could be salvaged from the regrettable incident.
Actually, the thought occurred that, if he was exceptionally lucky, the punishment might even remain a secret between him and Vin. After all, Tanner was exceptionally bashful and self-conscious and so was not likely to want anyone knowing what had happened. So if he could just get some space between them to let them both calm down then maybe an apology from him might save their friendship .... maybe ...
"What's been-" Buck started, but Chris cut him off.
"Just come and get him, Buck. Please!"
The plea surprised Wilmington. Chris Larabee almost begging! Things had to be bad. "Yeah, okay, Stud, I'm on my way," he replied.
He hurried out of the office and down to the car park. Spotting Ezra getting into the jag, he hurried up and said, "I'm just heading out to Chris' place."
"Apparently that is my destination as well."
"Huh?"
"Mr Tanner has requested transportation."
"What?"
"He has just telephoned me and said he is desirous of an immediate return to his usual place of residence."
"Shit! Things must be really bad out there," Buck exclaimed.
"May I enquire as to what leads you to that conclusion?"
"Chris just called and asked me to collect Vin."
"I fear our compatriots must have fallen out," Ezra observed.
"And how!" Wilmington agreed, adding in a tone of some wonderment, "Chris was almost begging."
"And I very much fear that ..." Standish started only to stop as he wondered at the propriety of continuing.
"What?" Buck demanded.
"I probably should not say, but, I think, that Mr Tanner was crying. He certainly sounded most upset."
"Damn! I wonder who turned who down."
"I beg your pardon?" Ezra questioned. Of course nothing got past him, but he was not about to admit that he descended to listening to common gossip. It did not fit with his image. In any case, he was keen to learn just what credence Buck put on the speculative whispers that sometimes surfaced about the exact nature of the unusually close friendship of Larabee and Tanner.
"Don't give me that! You're not that slow. You must have heard the odd rumour about Chris and Vin."
"Mr Wilmington, I fear that you have introduced an issue hardly suitable for a potentially public place. In any case, I think it advisable that we proceed to Mr Larabee's residence to collect Mr Tanner. If you deem it necessary, we can continue our discussion en route." As he spoke, he unlocked his passenger door and gestured to Buck to get in.
Wilmington complied, but almost immediately returned to the topic of their friends. "Well, you have heard the rumours, haven't you?"
"In any large organization there is invariably gossip. I believe all seven of us have probably been the target of both malicious and admiring tongues at times. Why even my honour and integrity have been unaccountably maligned, on occasion, by the envious and misinformed. Naturally, I endeavour to ignore all tittle-tattle about any of our little group. However, I have observed that your name does seem to arise with regrettable frequency when our female colleagues are conversing, as do the names of others of our team."
"Yeah, but how many of those ladies have first hand experiences of actually dating either Chris or Vin?" Buck asked.
"Since it is not part of my nature to pry into the private lives of my associates, I have no idea. However, I have noticed that Mr Larabee tends to escort that newspaper woman, Mrs Mary Travis, when he is in need of a partner to attend a function, so perhaps he simply prefers to avoid the complications of office romance."
"And Vin?" Buck persisted.
"Admittedly I have not observed him with anyone, but Mr Tanner is not the type to flaunt a relationship."
"Yeah, and that would certainly be the case if he was playing for the other team."
"Playing for the other team?" Ezra queried, reluctant to admit his acquaintance with such an expression.
"You know what I mean," Buck insisted.
"Yes," Ezra conceded, "and, before you ask, I have heard the innuendo, though I am willing to wager a considerable sum that Mr Larabee has not."
"No bet! Hell, nobody would be game to say anything like that in front of him, more's the pity."
"Pity? Why?"
"Just between you and me, I reckon old Chris has not quite realized what's what. Tanner just sauntered into his life and took it over. Suddenly Chris realized there was more to life that looking at the bottom of a bottle. Trouble is I don't think he's realized just how much more there can be. I reckon hearing a few of those rumours might just have woken him up before now to exactly what he's been missing."
"And you consider Mr Tanner that would have acquiesced had Mr Larabee desired such a relationship?"
"Yep, 'cause I reckon he already loves Chris ...Though he might not know it."
"And has he heard the rumours?"
"Unfortunately, some people have been all too ready to toss all the old fag insults at him. That pretty face and mop of curls really rile some of our co-workers. One or two have had their teeth rattled for them by our pretty boy, who, as we both know, is a damn sight tougher than he looks."
"Surely that suggests the idea is distasteful to him," Ezra observed, having decided to play devil's advocate.
"Nope!" Buck responded confidently. "Knowing Vin he was probably more concerned about Chris' reputation than his own. He doesn't seem to have a high opinion of himself. I reckon, being tossed from one foster home to another's done that. I think Chris was the first person who ever really gave him a sense of self-worth and in Vin's eyes, I reckon, he can do no wrong."
"But Mr Tanner is always arguing with him."
"Yes, but let anyone else criticize Chris and Vin's right there to support him."
"Yes, I concede the accuracy of that observation. However, could you elucidate further upon your earlier statement wherein you wondered 'who turned who down'? Please correct me if I am wrong, but I assume you meant that you suspect that one has made advances to the other and these have been rejected."
"Yep, I'm betting on Vin taking the lead, but we'll have to wait and see. You never know. Chris' been literally seeing a lot of Vin lately with all the personal nursing stuff he's been doing. Maybe he finally woke up and saw what was right in front of him."
"Would I be correct in assuming from all this that you do not find the thought of two of your friends in a sexual relationship .... um ... shall we say, unsettling?"
"Nope, I reckon it'd be the best thing for both of them," Buck said positively. Then he paused and asked, "How do you feel about it?"
"I must confess the whole thing, that is assuming you are correct in your speculations, has rather caught me off guard. However, I have had friends who were in same-sex relationships before and so I am comfortable with it .... as long as .... as long as ...." He trailed off uncertain as to the advisability of continuing lest he offend his colleague who was, after all, Larabee's oldest friend.
"C'mon, Ezra, what were you going to say?" Wilmington prompted.
"Well, Mr Larabee is a very old friend of yours so you are bound to consider his well-being as paramount, but I would need to be sure that V-Mr Tanner," he corrected himself, "was happy with this new development and on the telephone he sounded anything but that. I hope Mr Larabee has not hurt him in any way."
"Chris wouldn't force him," Buck said confidently.
"I trust not." However, he could not help but consider Chris' volatile temper and to wonder whether it had flared when Vin made an unwelcome advance or conversely rejected an advance from Larabee.
They drove on for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts.
Then Buck asked, "Did you let the boys know that we won't be in the office?"
Only the previous week, Director Travis had sent a memo to all the teams to complain about operatives neglecting to inform others of their intended movements and causing others' concern, not to mention time wasted in locating 'missing' personnel.
"No, I must confess that the thought did not cross my mind. I was just pulling into the parking area when I received Mr Tanner's call and decided to proceed to Mr Larabee's residence post haste."
"Okay, I'll let the kid know." Pulling out his phone he called their office.
"Sanchez speaking."
"Hi, Josiah, it's Buck. What're you doing answering JD's phone?"
"He's helping Team 4 with some computer problems."
"Yeah, I remember him saying something about that. I'm just calling to let you know that Ezra and I are heading out to Chris' place."
Josiah was instantly on the alert. "Anything wrong?" he asked.
"I don't think so. Just a little domestic tiff, I expect," Buck said airily, as though the matter was of exceptionally minor importance.
The profiler was not so easily fooled. "Tiff? What do you mean 'tiff'? Have Chris and Vin fallen out?" he asked. He had already been wondering what as going on, after Chris had first unexpectedly called to say he was coming into the office and then had phoned back to say he had changed his mind and was returning to the ranch. Although normally Chris and Vin were exceptionally in synch with each other, he knew only too well that the enforced inactivity caused by his incapacity had brought out the worst in Vin The sharpshooter had been taking out his frustrations on them all, but Chris Larabee was his main target by the virtue of physical proximity and emotional closeness. 'You always hurt the one you love,' he thought, wincing inwardly at the cliché, but aware of it's validity nonetheless.
"I reckon Vin's just getting on old Chris' nerves a tad. Hell, we all know that boy'd wear down anyone's patience when he's off colour. I'll give you a call later to let you know what's going on."
"Okay. We'll hold the fort here. Hear from you later, Buck," Josiah said, hanging up the phone.
Hearing a noise behind him, he turned to find Nathan Jackson looking questioningly at him.
"So we're holding the fort, are we?" Jackson asked, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. "I know JD is making himself useful, but I don't see why Ezra and Buck should go swanning off somewhere just because Chris is away. After Travis' directive last week, they ought ..." he started.
Aware that the rather judgemental Jackson was starting to get into full flight, Sanchez hurriedly interrupted, "They're just heading out to Chris' place to check on things. They'll be back later."
"Check on things? Why should they need to ... Wait a minute! What's Tanner done now?" he demanded.
"I don't know that he's done anything."
"Has that silly, young fool hurt himself again? Is that why Chris had to head back there rather than coming in?"
"Buck didn't say anything about that. He reckoned Vin and Chris had had a .... well, he said a 'tiff', so I suppose they've had an argument, but he didn't say what it was about."
"And why would Ezra and Buck have to rush out there because those two simply had a disagreement? There must be more to it than that." He paused considering, and then said, "Do you know what I think? I think, that damned Tanner has ignored my instructions about staying in bed and has hurt himself. He's probably fallen trying to walk. In that case, there probably has been an argument! I'll bet Chris has gone ballistic and I wouldn't blame him one bit."
He started rummaging in his desk.
"What are you doing?" Josiah asked.
"Getting my keys."
"Why?"
"I'm heading out to see what damage Vin has done to himself this time."
"But we don't know that he's actually done anything," Josiah pointed out.
"Really?" Jackson asked, with a hint of sarcasm. "And in the words Ezra would be sure to use in this situation, 'Would you care to wager on that?'"
"Not me, brother," Sanchez hastily replied, "after all, it is Vin Tanner involved and we both know his propensity for injuring himself. I hope we're both wrong, but you'd best go and check on him."
"I'll see you later."+ + + + + + +
Out at the ranch, Larabee proceeded to down several stiff drinks and tried desperately to decide exactly what he would say to Buck.
In the bedroom, Vin had come around and now finally managed to remove the jeans. He lay flat on his back gasping, the effort having exhausted him. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and sink into oblivion, but Tanners were not quitters. So, battling nausea, he tried to force himself to concentrate on how to extricate himself from his current predicament. He wondered miserably what he could do about clothes to go home in. Home? Hell, Purgatorio wasn't his home anymore. Home was where Chris Larabee was .... or it had been. He'd damn well ruined everything. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Unbidden tears started rolling down his pale cheeks once more.
Shamed by this, he rubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of Chris' shirt. He felt absolutely dreadful. If only his head would stop throbbing and his stomach cease churning. 'Get a hold of yer self, Tanner,' he remonstrated. 'Ya can't let Ez find ya like this.' He rolled over and tried to get to his knees, but the movement proved his undoing. A sharp pain shot through his head and he pitched straight off the bed and landed face down on the floor, unconscious once more.+ + + + + + +
It was with mixture of relief and trepidation that Chris heard Buck's car pull into the yard. Relief in that he knew that his oldest friend would do whatever he asked of him, was mixed with some worry about what questions Wilmington might have about what had led to the call. Sure he had managed to stave him off on the phone, but face to face was going to be difficult.
One thing was certain, he was definitely not going discuss spanking Vin with Buck and had absolutely no intention of even hinting at his unanticipated response to having the sharpshooter over his knees. No, his best bet would be to try to give Buck the impression that he had merely lost his well-known temper with Vin, berating him harshly, and had come perilously close to actually decking him. Wilmington would not be surprised by that and so would hopefully see that it was a sensible thing to take Vin away from the ranch.
At least Buck had arrived. That was the main thing. Once he had had Tanner safely removed from his vicinity, he would try to decide what his next move should be.
He flung open the door to greet Buck and was extremely taken aback to see the Jaguar, with Ezra at the wheel. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
"And good afternoon to you too, Mr Larabee," the undercover agent responded, with just the slightest tinge of sarcasm. Although he certainly was not beyond baiting his boss, he knew from Larabee's thunderous expression that now might not be an expeditious time to indulge in such an activity.
"Well?" Larabee snapped, ignoring the implied rebuke.
"I am here in response to a somewhat urgent request for transportation from Mr Tanner."
"What the hell-" Chris started, but fearing a confrontation, Buck swung out of the passenger seat and hastened to intervene.
"Seems like you and Slick both decided it was time he took his leave," he said, hurriedly. "I met Ezra in the car park and found we had both been phoned, so we decided we might as well come out together and see what's going on."
"You'd better come in then," Larabee responded ungraciously. Standish could irritate him at the best of times and was too perspicacious by half. He might be able to fool Buck, but conning the undercover agent was quite a different matter.
As they followed him in, he turned to Ezra, and said peremptorily, "You know which room he's in. Buck, I want a word with you."
So Buck followed Chris into the living room, while Ezra headed along the passage to Vin's bedroom.
Ezra tapped lightly on the door, while saying, "Vin, it is Ezra." Getting no response, he pushed the door open and went to step inside. To his horror, his eyes immediately alighted on the prone figure on the floor. He went to his knees and gently laid a hand on Vin's shoulder. The sharpshooter groaned and seemed to rouse slightly. He muttered agitatedly, "Ch-Chris ... I's sorry ... sorry ... Please don't ... don't ..." and then went limp again. With a further shock, Standish realized that Vin was naked apart from what would, from its somber colour, have to be one of Chris' shirts. Then his eyes were riveted by the angry red marks left by the belt studs on the creamy globes of Vin's ass.
He stared in horror and disbelief. Larabee must have ... must have ... He could hardly complete the thought. That Larabee could do such a thing to Vin. His thoughts whirled in shocked confusion. He felt oddly lightheaded. For a few moments, he thought he was actually going to faint.
Then, beyond logical thought, instead of tending to Vin, he lurched to his feet and rushed from the room in search of Larabee.
Meanwhile, Larabee was remonstrating with Wilmington. "What the hell did you bring him for?"
"I told you. Anyway, he brought me," Buck responded cheerfully. In spite of his friend's anger, he still believed that the whole affair was a lovers, or 'soon-to-be-lovers-once-they-woke-up-and-admitted-their–feelings' spat.
" I don't care ..." Larabee started, only to break off as the door was flung open and Standish stormed into the room.
"WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT TO VIN?" Standish shouted, his usual calm and collected demeanour, having vanished along with his normally multi-syllabic speech.
Bristling both at Standish's tone and manner, Larabee retorted nastily, "Why not? It was just what he was asking for."
"You bastard!" Standish exclaimed and landed a lightning fast left hook on Larabee's jaw. Caught completely off-guard, Larabee staggered backwards and would have hit the floor if Buck had not shot out a supporting arm.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Ezra?" the ladies' man demanded, as he hurriedly lowered a groggy Larabee onto a chair and moved to stand protectively in front of his friend.
"Rearranging that bastard's face for him," Standish announced grimly, trying to push past Wilmington.
The larger man grabbed his arms and wrestled him away from a dazed Larabee, who was still sprawled in the armchair and was making no attempt to rise. "What the hell's going on?" Buck asked, holding off the struggling undercover agent with surprising difficulty considering the disparity in their sizes. "Give it up, Ezra," he ordered, adding, "I'm not going to let you anywhere near Chris. Just tell me what the hell you think you doing."
Abruptly Ezra ceased his fruitless efforts and swung back to the door. "Come and see for yourself," he invited, as he abruptly left the room. "You'll change your mind."
Casting a look at Chris to see that he was okay, a bewildered Buck followed, only to come to a shocked halt in the door way of Vin's room at the sight of a semi-nude Vin sprawled unconscious on the floor.
"It seems you were wrong in your assertion that Mr Larabee would never force Vin," Ezra said, kneeling down beside Vin.
"Ch-Chris did this?" Buck asked fearfully, his eyes drawn to the marks on the sharpshooter's buttocks.
"So it appears. Don't just stand there, help me get him onto the bed."
Appearing dazed, Buck complied with the order. "Chris wouldn't ... He wouldn't ..." he started, as they laid Vin down upon the bed.
"It seems he would!" Ezra snapped, as he pulled up a sheet to cover Vin's nakedness.
"Wh-What are you going to do?"
"I am going to endeavour to revive Mr Tanner and then I will call ...."
"Call? Call who? You ain't going to call the police, are you?" Buck interrupted, agitatedly.
"I was going to say I will call Nathan. I know I should contact the police, but without Mr Tanner's agreement I do not know if -"
Buck broke in. "Look, Ezra, I still can't believe Chris'd do this to Vin. Yeah, I could see them choosing to have sex, but Chris ain't the sort who'd .... He ain't ... He wouldn't...."
"Well, someone seems to have assaulted Vin. Has Mr Larabee actually denied responsibility?"
"Not yet, but please give me a chance to talk to him."
"All right, but I will still have to call Nathan."
"Okay, but don't say anything yet. Just tell him that Vin's hurt. Please, Ezra, just 'til I talk to Chris and find out what's been going on. Please."
"Okay, but if Chris has sexually assaulted Vin, I will see that he pays for it."
Buck reentered the living room to find an angry and confused Chris Larabee sitting where he had left him, rubbing his aching jaw. "What the hell does Standish think he's playing at?" he snarled.
"He's worried about Vin."
Assuming from Ezra's violent reaction that Tanner had told Standish about the spanking, Larabee had decided it was time to go on the offensive. Accordingly he responded, "Why? So Tanner's a bit upset, is he? As I told Standish, he just got what he was asking for. I should have done it days ago."
Wilmington blanched at both Chris' tone and choice of words. "Chris, you didn't. Please tell me you didn't," he pleaded.
"Well, I did! And I'd damn well do it again," Larabee responded defiantly. "One way or another Tanner's going to learn to do what I tell him."
"B-But forcing ... forcing ."
"Forcing?" Larabee demanded in bemusement. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You doing that to Vin. I didn't ... Chris, how the hell could you do it? I mean sexual assault ... I can hardly believe you'd ... "
"Did that lying, little bastard call what I did to him sexual assault?" Larabee interrupted, his tone incredulous and his always volatile temper rising further. He had known that Tanner would be angry with him, but had never thought that the sharpshooter would stoop to making such a ridiculous accusation in order to get revenge on him. And for his oldest friend to believe he would do such a thing was incredible. Chris was ready to go ballistic.
However, Buck's next words prevented the explosion of Larabee wrath. "He's not saying anything at the moment. He's still out of it."
Out of it? What the hell was Buck talking about? Chris stared at him in honest confusion. "He's what?" he managed.
"He's still unconscious, but -"
"Unconscious?" Larabee questioned, heading for the door. Shit! What the hell had that idiot Tanner done to himself?
Buck hurriedly moved to position himself between Larabee and the door. "Where are you going, Chris?" he asked worriedly.
"To check on Vin, of course."
"You'd best not go near him," Buck warned.
"Why the hell not?"
"Ezra's looking after him. Anyway I don't reckon Vin'll want to see you when he comes round."
"Look, Buck, I don't know what Tanner's playing at. Sure I yelled at him and was furious with him for sneaking outside, but what you're suggesting is ... I'd never ... I'd never ... It's ridiculous to even think such a thing. You know me better than that, don't you?"
Buck hesitated. "Yeah, I do, but ..."
"But?"
"Well, if you didn't hurt him, who did?"
Larabee hesitated, his mind whirling. He had no desire to confess what he had done, but that had to be better than Buck thinking he had sexually assaulted Vin. "Well, actually ... Look, Buck, I ..." he started.
However, at that moment, they both heard the sound of hurrying footsteps on the porch. "Shit someone's coming!" Wilmington exclaimed. "Stay here!" he added, as he moved hurriedly out into the hallway to intercept the unwanted new arrival.
However, even as he reached for it, the front door opened and Nathan Jackson bustled purposefully inside. "All right, where is he?" he demanded.
"Nate? What are you doing here?" Buck asked. He could not fathom how Jackson could have reached the ranch so quickly.
"I thought I'd better come and see why you and Ezra were scurrying out here. What's Tanner been up to this time?"
"I ... um ... Well, I don't ... I don't know what's been going on exactly ..." Buck stalled. In truth, he did not know what to say. He was relieved to see Nathan for Vin's sake, but was wary about how the rather moralistic medic would react if he found that Larabee and Tanner's relationship had apparently become sexual. As far as he was concerned what two consenting adults chose to do in privacy was their own affair ... but then were both consenting? Hell, he didn't know what to think. He would have preferred a bit more time to get the full story out of Chris before facing Jackson.
"But I'm right, aren't I? Vin is hurt, isn't he?" Jackson said, confused by Buck's evasive manner.
"Yes, he most certainly is," Standish said, emerging from the bedroom, at the sound of voices. "I just tried to call you and Mr Sanchez informed me you were already en route."
"Right, I'd best see what the damage is," Jackson said, heading into the room.
Standish followed him, pausing to close the door firmly in Buck's face.
Buck debated opening it, but knew Vin would not welcome an audience and so, feeling a need to get outside, headed out onto the porch.