Pairing: C/V -- Time hasn't changed Ruby J.!

Rating: NC17 (Language, Explicit M/M sex)

Disclaimer: Sadly, they still don't belong to me, but to the creators of the M7 series. Thanks to Mog for letting us all play in the ATF sandbox.. All original characters are my interpretation of Chris's somewhat dysfunctional family.

Author's Note: I'm back after a long hiatus involving Graduate school, and a rather hectic year of RL. The muse was plumb wore out! But she came out to give you all a Christmas present. This story deals with some tough issues of family dynamics and homophobia. There is also an "off stage" death in Chris's family. But there is a happy ending for our heroes. I also want to thank my best pards, Sue N., Jean, Renegade and Pam, and LaraMee for support and encouragement to coax Ruby J. out of hiding.

And I would like to applaud two of my favorite authors, Suzanne Brockmann and Diana Gabaldon for introducing gay heroes who are strong, tough and smart, and giving them credible romances that play to a mainstream readership.

Vin Tanner was jolted from sleep by the ringing of Chris Larabee's home phone. Next to him, Chris had sat up just as quickly and snatched the phone from the cradle as if he could keep it from waking Vin. Too late, he was already awake, like he could sleep through that racket when the sound of the furnace coming on could rouse him. He brushed at the tangle of chestnut curls on his forehead and peered at the bedside clock. It wasn't quite 6am.

Vin tried to figure out what was going on from his lover's expression. He knew the call wasn't work related: his pager would have gone off, too. It wasn't anybody on the team - they used cells. That left family and neighbors. The conversation was fairly monosyllabic on Larabee's side, but he could tell that it was serious. When Chris closed with, "I'll get there as soon as I can," Vin's heart dropped. So much for their Christmas plans. It was a selfish thought, but he'd had so many years without Christmas that he tended to jealously guard the happiness he'd found with the teams and most of all, with Chris.

"What's goin' on?" Larabee's shoulders were slumped, his head down. Vin kissed his back. "Bad news?"

"That was my sister Jen. My father is in the hospital again. Another heart attack. It's not good." He ran a hand through his blond hair. "How the hell am I going to get a flight from here to Indianapolis two days before Christmas ... on a weekend, yet?"

"I'll make some coffee while you get online and check things out, okay? You'll get there, Chris. Ya gotta go. He's your Pa. Jist 'cause I grew up without one doesn't mean I don't understand how important that is."

"I know you understand." Chris turned to look at him. "There's not much you don't know about me. And you still love me, which I sure as hell don't get."

Vin laughed. "Reckon we was jist meant to be." He kissed Chris. "I'll get that coffee going."

"I'm sorry, Vin. About Christmas."

He paused in the doorway. "Ya don't hafta be sorry. Just knowin' I was lucky enough to have plans fer a happy Christmas is more than I had fer most of my life."

By the time coffee was made, the sky was turning light. Vin heard the shower running. He filled a mug and put in on the bathroom vanity for Chris before he went out to feed and water the horses. Larabee usually took the morning feed, knowing that Vin felt the morning cold intensely, leaving the evening feeding to him when his body temp was up.

The snow crunched under his boots as he hurried across the fields to the barn. Peso and Pony were waiting for breakfast, bright-eyed and ready to eat. He brushed them down quickly, enjoying the feel of their warm muscles under their wooly winter coats. "Yer damn lucky," he said, "growin' all that extra hair. Ya both got enough to stuff more'n a few sofas." Peso nudged Vin's slouch-brimmed hat from his head and nuzzled his hair. "Yeah, I got hair, too. But it don't git twice as thick when the weather turns cold."

He finished up in the barn and nearly ran back to the house, thoroughly chilled by the time he was back in the mud room, toeing off his boots. "Chris! I'm gonna take a shower. Be out in a few, okay?" he hollered on his way to the bathroom.

Back in the den, Chris was about ready to pull out his hair. No flights from Denver to Indianapolis. The best he could do was a flight from Denver to Chicago, with a commuter connection from there.

"Ya find anything?" Vin asked. He came to stand behind Chris, laid his hands on his shoulders and leaned close, his damp hair brushing Chris's cheek.

"Only one with seats available from Denver to Chicago. Then a commuter flight to Indianapolis, with a four hour layover."

"We could rent a car and drive from Chicago in about the same time," Vin said.

"We?"

Vin stood upright, his eyes narrowed. "Yeah ... We. As in you and me. Do you think I'd let you go through this alone?"

Chris turned in the chair. "Vin, this is family."

"Family? What am I? A good lay?" He felt like he'd been punched in the gut and only pride kept him from puking on the rug.

"Jesus, Tanner!" Chris's anger made his voice crack. "Don't! You're my heart and my soul -- "

"But they're blood." He challenged Chris to refute it.

He couldn't. "You don't know them. You don't know what they're like. It's complicated. You really can't understand ..."

"I'd like to try." He struggled to get his mind around Chris's apparent rejection. Apparent, because he knew Chris wasn't being intentionally cruel. Maybe there was a weird logic going on in Chris's mind. Maybe it was what was okay here in Denver wasn't okay with his folks. He'd rather it was a moral dynamic than the idea that Chris might be ashamed of him -- of them. He sighed. "I ain't stupid, Chris. I reckon your family doesn't know about us. I mean, ya cain't tell'em that yer in love with a queer. Somethin' like that ain't gonna go down easy in the heartland."

Chris looked like he felt; kind of stunned and nauseous. "You think I didn't tell them because I'm ashamed of loving you?" He crossed over to Vin and took his hand. "It's not shame. Who I love and how I love is nobody's business, not even family."

"Sounds like a convenient excuse, Larabee."

"Jesus, Vin. I love you! You want to know why I didn't tell my family? Because I'm the liberal one, God help me."

Vin went from hurt and outrage to laughter. "You? I ain't never thought I'd hear you and liberal in the same sentence."

"They're not bad people, just ... just ... not exactly open-minded. I grew up hearing every pejorative word for gay in the books. I don't want you to be hurt, that's all."

"I'm pretty tough, in case you haven't noticed," Vin said. "I've been livin' this life a long time. Let me come with you, Chris. Not as your lover, but as your friend. Ya need a friend in times like this." He crossed the floor to Chris, looked in his eyes. "Book the flight, Larabee. For two."

"I'm paying," Chris said, yielding, much to Vin's relief.

"Yeah, you are. That's why ya get the big bucks." They kissed, hard and filled with undisguised yearning, but still loving. Vin ran a thumb over Chris's full lower lip. "Least we'll be together on Christmas," he said.

"For better or for worse."

"Damn straight, cowboy." Another kiss. "I'll start packing."

+ + + + + + +

Vin had been a lot of places; some of them most people couldn't locate on a map, but he'd never been to Indiana. This place that was part of Chris, that had given him birth and nurtured him, had shaped his voice, his character ... this was more foreign to Vin than the ends of the earth. He watched the snow-covered landscape roll past; through small towns, fields. Traffic thinned and then grew heavier as they approached Indianapolis. Chris was driving as if he could have done it with his eyes closed. Every now and then he reached over to touch Vin's hand, as if to ground himself to what they had left behind in Denver.

He had called his sister when they landed. She told him to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. His father's heart was failing and it seemed only a matter of time. Chris had been pretty much silent since that call.

"Chris, I'm sorry about your pa. I remember when my ma died, even if I was only five. I felt cold fer weeks. My grandpa let me sleep in his bed until I stopped shivering. He was all I had. When he died, it was fast. He had a massive stroke, was gone in a minute, according to the docs. I was at school when the neighbors came to get me. I wished I had a chance to tell him what he meant to me ... to thank him fer teachin' me. It was right about this time of year, too."

"My dad's a tough SOB," Chris said. "He was a veteran. Korea. I swear when I was sixteen, I thought he had a ramrod up his butt. We fought at every turn. I was never good enough, strong enough. Man enough. When I joined the Navy, he was angry. He wanted me to go for the Marines -- like he had. I didn't tell him it was because I wanted to be as different as from him as fire from ice. I didn't see him for nearly five years. He never wrote, never called. When I got out of BUDS, I figured I was tough enough to stand before him like a man. He cried, Vin. Five years earlier, he'd practically thrown me onto the bus to boot camp. Now, it was like I was the second coming. I didn't understand. It made me angry at him for all the years of neglect until my mom told me that he'd been drinking ever since I left. I looked at him again and saw a man with a lot of wasted years. It had turned him bitter as gall."

"Ya didn't put the bottle in his hand. And ya made amends, right? Least it seemed like it."

"He wanted me to come home. He wanted me to work with him on the farm, or to be a teacher or a swim coach at my high school. He couldn't see the world beyond that."

"Ya would'a died of boredom," Vin observed.

"You think?" Chris smiled, but it was tight and unhappy. "The ATF came calling, and I left again. After I married Sarah, and Adam was born, things were good between us. Lately ... not so good. Most of that was my fault. I drank, he drank. We both said some pretty harsh things. Even threw a few punches which scared my mom to death. For her sake we worked at making it better."

"Did it get better?"

"A little, but not much. I got my temper from my old man."

Vin gazed thoughtfully at his lover. "I'll lay low, Chris. Nobody'll pick up any vibes from me."

"I hate this!" Chris slammed a fist on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, but jist remember, nothing's changed for us. No matter what happens, you and me'll get back to Denver."

"I'm counting on it."

By now they were in city traffic. Chris expertly negotiated the off ramp and the city streets until they pulled up to the hospital. Vin touched Chris's wrist. "Go on. I'll park the car and meet you up in CICU."

Chris nodded, his green eyes shadowed and soft. "I'm glad you're here."

"Anything for you, cowboy." He watched Chris stride across the drive to the hospital entrance. Any sign of vulnerability was gone. Vin put the car into gear and went to hunt down a parking space.

+ + + + + + +

All hospitals were alike, Vin thought. All sterile and cold; an atmosphere that the red and green tinsel strung around the central desk failed to enliven. Too many monitors, too many machines. Too many pale, hollow-eyed relatives leaning against walls or sitting in the waiting areas. He'd been in enough hospitals to last him the rest of his life - both as a patient and as a friend.

"Can I help you?"

A nurse was standing before him, her eyes concerned. Vin shook his head. "I'm with somebody. Larabee?"

"The family is in now. Are you a relative?"

There was a form in Denver that said he was Chris's next of kin, but he doubted that would have any weight in Indianapolis. "Jist a friend of the family."

"Then you'll have to wait out here." Her eyes flicked to a cubicle on the far side of the floor. "They need to have privacy. I'm sure you understand."

"He ain't ... I mean, he's not passed yet?"

"I'm sorry. It's just a matter of time."

"Hell of a time to die," Vin said. He looked around at the faces of the people, the tinsel, and wondered how many would be grieving and how many would be smiling on Christmas day. He wished with all his heart that it wouldn't be Chris and his family planning a funeral instead of a celebration.

The nurse blinked at him. "Is there a good time?"

"Sorry, ma'am. I guess I'm kinda used to walkin' with death." When she looked thoroughly spooked, he explained. "My job. Law enforcement."

She seemed to understand, then. "It's a rough world out there. I used to be in ER until it got to me." She looked around. "This is ... different. Good days and bad, but with the advances in medicine, there are a lot more good ones."

Vin nodded. "Is there someplace to get a cup of real coffee around here?"

"Sure. There's a Starbucks in the lobby."

"Thanks. If ... if my friend Chris is lookin' for me, tell him I'll be back in a few minutes."

He got two grande cups of black coffee, and put two packs of sugar in his for energy. Chris needed something, too, but he'd spit the coffee out if Vin put sugar in his. He purchased a blueberry muffin instead. If Larabee didn't eat, his stomach would start acting up or he'd get a migraine. Vin hoped he'd packed his meds, otherwise he'd end up in ER begging for Imitrex.

When he got back to the CICU, Chris was sitting in the waiting room, bent over his knees. Shit. "Chris?"

Larabee lifted his head. His eyes were red-rimmed, but calm. "He's gone. The family is in there with the priest."

Vin sat next to his friend, his lover, and ached right along with him. "I'm real sorry about your pa. Were you able to talk to him?"

"He knew I was there. Held my hand. And then he just stopped breathing."

"Least it was peaceful. You and me have both seen a lot worse." Vin held out the coffee. "This is probably me bein' insensitive, but ya need this. And you have to eat."

Chris straightened and took the coffee. "I don't know if I can eat."

"You have to."

"You channeling Nathan?"

Vin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and Rain's chiming in for good measure. C'mon, Chris. Things are hard enough without you bein' laid flat with a headache."

He sighed, but he took the coffee and the muffin. He ate slowly, with sips of coffee in between bites. He was just finishing when a woman appeared in the door. She was enough like Chris for Vin to assume she was his sister, Jen.

"How can you think about eating?" she asked, her voice cracking with anger. "Mom's been in there sobbing her heart out on Father Murphy's collar and you're in here, having breakfast! I don't know why I should have thought you'd change! It's always been about you, hasn't it?"

She was on the verge of tears herself, obviously distraught. Vin was inclined to forgive her, but not without a defense. "Ma'am, if Chris doesn't eat, he'll get a migraine, so let him finish b'fore you start in on him, okay?"

"Who are you?" Hostility, but also curiosity, lit her eyes.

Chris swallowed, had a sip of coffee. "Jen, this is Vin Tanner. Vin, my sister, Jen."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think." She dabbed at her tears. "You can tell I've got the Larabee temper."

She also had the set of Chris's features; though they were softer and her hair and eyes were dark brown. Vin guessed she got her coloring from her mother. "I'm sorry about your pa. If there's anything I can do - run errands, watch the house, you just say so. I owe Chris a lot."

She seemed surprised by the offer. "Thank you. I'm sure we'll need some help. Chris, I'm sorry I lit into you like that. I wish you had stayed with us, though."

"Father Murphy and I haven't seen eye to eye since I came back from the SEALs and told him I didn't think I'd done anything requiring absolution. I figured we'd all be better off if he and I didn't get into it right now."

"Mom wanted some time to say good-bye. Father Murphy was on his way out, though he'll stop by the house to help plan the service. Dad wanted a Mass, but no funeral visitation, so at least we'll be spared that torture."

A shadow darkened the doorway. "Well, the prodigal son returned in the nick of time, as usual. Nice timing, Chris."

Vin felt his hackles rising. The man in the doorway was as tall as Chris, but heavier with coarser features. His eyes were a pale gray-green, less striking than his brother's, and more bloodshot. Vin wondered if he had inherited the family proclivity for drink, or if it were just stress that had driven him to the bottle. So, this was the "good" son, the one who had stayed near home, grew up and took over the family business. There was no doubt that he had the Larabee smarts. He didn't dress like a farmer. His clothes were better than Vin's; expensive jeans, sweater, boots. This was what Chris might have been like if he hadn't rebelled and left home. Vin wasn't sure he liked that thought, given the look in his brother's eyes when they lit on him.

"You with Chris?"

Hmm. That was a good question. "I came with him, " Vin said cautiously.

Chris spoke up, his voice sounding weary. "Take it easy, Bill. This is Vin Tanner. He's on my team."

"No Buck Wilmington?"

"Buck's my SiC. Somebody had to mind the store."

"What do you do?" Bill Larabee took in Vin's worn jeans and flannel shirt. "Office boy?"

"God could you be an any bigger asshole?" Chris asked.

Vin decided to step in before Chris said something he'd regret. "It's okay, Chris." He rose and met Bill Larabee's hard eyes. "I'm the team's sniper," Vin said. He usually wasn't so up front about it, knowing that people's reaction ranged from mild curiosity to outright disgust at what he did. Frankly, he didn't care what Bill Larabee thought as long as he knew Vin could kill him in between one breath and the next.

He took the point and had the grace to look ashamed at his earlier faux pas. "Mom is ready to leave. Tom Riggio is taking care of ... arrangements. Dad wanted to be cremated and interred on the farm ... under the oak tree."

"Yeah, I can see how he'd like that." Chris rubbed his eyes.

A small, trim woman with fine, but grief-ravaged features pushed past Bill Larabee and went over to Chris. "Are you getting a headache, son?" she asked, setting a hand on his forehead. Vin would have loved her for noticing when nobody else had. "Let's get you home."

"We're supposed to be taking care of you," Chris said. He smiled for the first time that day.

"We need to be taking care of each other." She noticed Vin and came over to him. "I'm Mariah Larabee. You must be a friend of Chris's?"

Vin blushed. "Yes, ma'am. I'm Vin Tanner. I'm - I'm so sorry for your loss."

Mariah Larabee, tired as she had to be, was from hardy stock. She held out her hand. "Thank you for your sympathy. It means a lot to me that Chris didn't have to come alone." She frowned up at him. "You don't look much better than my son."

"I'm fine, ma'am."

"Come on, mom. Let us take care of you for a change," Jen said. She gave her mother a hug. "You'll never be alone, you know."

Chris rose. "Jen's right. It's time to go home."

+ + + + + + +

The Larabee homestead was just what Vin had always imagined. A big, white rambling farmhouse with dark green shutters; well-maintained and set in a landscape of fields and outbuildings. Chris's father had worked hard to make it profitable, and if Bill was doing the same, then he deserved some credit. Vin imagined Chris running across the broad front lawn, swinging from the tire swing that still hung from the big maple tree. He would have talked to Chris about growing up there, but his tamped down his natural curiosity. The blueberry muffin hadn't done much to stave off Chris's headache judging from his pallor and the tense draw of his mouth.

"You have your meds with you?" he asked as he unloaded their bags from the trunk of the rental car.

"Yes." One word, accompanied by a unconvincing glare.

"Take 'em, and go to bed. Yer ma'll need you up to speed later."

To Vin's surprise, Chris took an Imitrex and went without protest to bed as soon as they settled in at the Larabee house. Jen showed Vin up to the guest room. "It's not fancy but I think you'll be comfortable."

Vin looked at the wrought iron bedstead, the handmade quilt and the old maple furniture. "After some of the places I've been, this is like the Ritz. Thanks, Miss -"

"Call me Jen. It's easier. I'm going to try to get my mom to lay down for a while, so you might want to catch some sleep, too. There are neighbors coming later. They'll be bringing tons of food along with condolences. Mom and dad had a lot of friends here."

Vin nodded. "Thanks, but if there's something you need, don't be afraid to wake me. I'm a light sleeper, so jist knock on the door."

"Mr. Tanner ... Can I call you Vin?"

"Sure. Mr. Tanner doesn't sound right to my ears." He tried to smile, but Jen's bright eyes were making him nervous.

" Vin, I hope this doesn't sound rude, but you're not what I expected a sniper to look like."

Neither had any of the men he'd shot, but that wasn't what he should say to a woman who'd just lost her father. "It ain't the first time I've heard that," Vin said. "Jist remember Hollywood ain't real."

She gave him a look from under her lashes, a purely feminine and intentional flirtation. Great. He was fucking her brother, and she wanted to fuck him. He faked a yawn, rubbed his forehead. "I'm feelin' that jet-lag," he said, and yawned again, this time for real.

Jen looked disappointed. "I'll wake you for dinner." She gave him an over the shoulder glance as she left, that made him feel queasy. He decided to set the alarm on his cell phone. Before he did, he called Buck and told him what had happened. Wilmington sounded sorry for Chris and pissed-off at being in charge for a week.

"So, Junior, when will you be back?"

"Don't know. The Mass is tomorrow. Don't think they'll be able to do anything with the ashes until Spring. It's up to Chris to decide when to send me home."

"Is his brother still an asshole?"

"Yeah."

"Jen try to jump yer bones yet?"

Vin laughed. "She's getting' ready to leap. But don't worry, Bucklin. I ain't stupid."

"Is Chris around?"

"He's tryin' to sleep off a migraine."

"Ask him to give me a call, okay? And express my condolences to the family. The team is making a donation to the local Korean War Veterans organization. His dad was pretty active in it."

"Thanks, Buck. Chris'll appreciate it."

Vin laid down on the bed and despite everything on his mind, slept until the alarm on his cell phone woke him. The room was chilly, so he put a sweater over his flannel shirt and ran a comb through his hair. He rubbed his chin. Stubble. He'd have to shave in the morning for the mass. No point in doing it now.

He paused at the top of the stairs. There were a lot of voices. Neighbors coming by with food and sympathy. Vin knew the drill. He wasn't looking forward to being in a house full of strangers. He wondered if Chris was down there. He went to Chris's room and knocked softly.

No answer. He went inside. The bed was mussed and a knit afghan was pooled on the floor. Vin picked it up, and Chris's sweater tumbled out. He caught it and held it in his hands. It smelled of Chris. Soap, cedarwood and sage, masculine musk. He held it close to his face and inhaled deeply. Longing poured through him like fire. He sat on the bed, waiting for the heat in groin to dissipate. God, he was worse than a randy teenager. But there was so much more to this feeling. More than he had ever dreamed of or hoped for. This was the first Christmas he and Chris would have had without shadows; no haunting pasts, no hospitals. Just love. Vin touched the silver and turquoise ring he wore on a chain around his neck. It had been a gift from Chris last year. This year, Vin had brought a silver band inlaid with ebony for Chris. He had planned on giving it to him on Christmas Eve.

Instead, Chris would be at a funeral mass, and come Hell or high water, Vin would be at his side.

He closed the door and went downstairs, his stomach jumping with nerves. Chris was standing in the hall talking to a middle-aged couple. The woman was looking at him like he was the second coming. No wonder, in that place filled with good, ordinary people, he stood out like gold in coal.

Vin ghosted down the stairs and lured by the aroma of brewing coffee, made for the kitchen, then nearly backed out when he saw Bill Larabee. He held up a mug. "Made fresh. Want some?"

"Thanks." Vin took the mug and sipped at it, wanting sugar, but deciding to keep it black. "Looks like ya got good neighbors."

"Mama won't have to cook for two weeks." He gestured to the counter laden with casseroles, pies, cakes, and incongruously, plates of decorated Christmas cookies. "Go ahead, have some."

Vin took a plate and dished out chicken and noodles, and a broccoli casserole. "Chris should be in here eatin' something," he said.

"You're kind of concerned about my little brother's well-being."

Vin felt an itch between his shoulder blades, but kept his voice and expression neutral. "Friends watch out fer friends. Workin' with Chris taught me that."

"How long have you known him?"

"'Bout three years." Vin decided he didn't want to tell him any more than that. He picked up the plate.

"Watching out for your friend?" Bill asked, giving the word an ugly twist. Vin wondered if he had "fag" tattooed on his forehead. God. That was all Chris needed right now.

"I'm takin' this out to yer ma," Vin said evenly. He pushed away from the table and left the kitchen.

Chris's mother was standing in the living room, looking about as played out as a lady of her steel will could. Vin courteously broke into the conversation she was having with an elderly man. "Excuse me, sir, but I'm thinkin' Mrs. Larabee might like to get off her feet and have some food. There's plenty in the kitchen. Bill will make sure to take care of you." He took Mariah Larabee's arm and gently led her to the couch. "I think ya ought to eat somethin'."

"Why thank you, Vin." Her eyes lit on Chris, still standing in the hallway. "Now if you could do the same for that son of mine, it would give me some peace of mind."

"I sure will, ma'am."

"Where'd you get such nice manners?"

"I reckon my grandpa and DI Hammersmith drummed'em into me," he smiled at her. "I'll take care of Chris, don't worry."

"You do that," she said with sudden intensity.

Vin drew back, afraid that he had revealed too much to this woman. "He's the best friend I ever had," he said in perfect truth. "He's been a real good friend to me, ma'am." He wandered over to the foyer where Chris was still holding the fort.

Chris looked weary. His eyes were dark-circled and his cheekbones were sharp beneath the skin. Vin came to his side, "C'mon. Time to eat. Yer ma's takin' a break. I don't know where Jen is, but Bill's hidin' in the kitchen. It's 'bout time fer him to do his part."

"Is he drinking?"

"Just coffee."

"Did you take a whiff of it?" When Vin's eyes widened, Chris gave him a grim smile. "Yeah. My big brother's a drunk. So, maybe it's not such a bad thing that he stays out of the way."

"Guess I'd better bring you a plate, then."

"No, I'll get it." He looked around, and seeing they were alone, bent closer. "I love you, you know that."

Vin's eyes widened. "With every breath I take, cowboy."

+ + + + + + +

Vin woke after a few brief hours of exhausted sleep, Too wound up to relax, he finally gave up hope that he would drift off. Maybe some milk would help, maybe just being able to sit in the quiet would bring some ease. He went down the stairs. A soft light came from the living room. Somebody had left the Christmas tree lights on; probably not a good idea. He went to turn them off and realized that the room wasn't deserted. Chris was sitting on the couch, looking at something he held in his hands.

"Chris?"

"Dad made this for me when I was five." He opened his hand. A little carved horse lay in his palm. When I was old enough to hold a knife without cutting off my fingers, he taught me how to whittle. When Sarah told me she was pregnant, I made a little horse just like this one for the baby. Dad would have gotten the biggest kick out of teaching him, too ..." He gave a ragged sigh, "He wasn't perfect, Vin. But he loved us. Even when we were butting our damn Larabee skulls together ... deep down, I knew that. I wish ... I hope he knew the same."

Vin sank down on the sofa and gently wiped away the tear that was scrawling down Chris's cheek. "I reckon he knew that, Chris."

"God, I'm tired ..." He slumped against the back of the couch.

Vin folded his arms around his lover and held him. "Yeah, me, too." He stroked Chris's hair, careless of where they were; it was 5am and they were alone. "It's Christmas Eve," he said. "I sure thought we'd be at the ranch, decorating that tree."

"We'll do it on New Years."

"Won't you want to be here 'til after the holidays?" he asked, surprised.

"I'd rather fly home for those three days than stay here." Chris chuckled softly against Vin's collarbone. "In case you haven't noticed, we're the living example of the dysfunctional family."

"Nobody's perfect."

"I've got a brother teetering on the verge of alcoholism, a sister who is so desperate to get married that she'd hit on any breathing man who crosses her path, and a mother who's a saint for putting up with my old man and corralling her semi-toxic brood. No, I don't want to be here for New Years. I want to be with you - in every way."

"Lord God, I want that, too ..." Vin breathed. Chris sat up and suddenly he was the one holding Vin, kissing him, strong hands at the back of his head. Vin surrendered, let Chris invade his mouth, his tongue filling him with sweetness.

"Shee-it. I shoulda known 'best friend' meant 'fuck-buddy'." Bill Larabee's slurred voice cut through the sweetness of the moment like a knife made of acid.

Vin sprang away from Chris, who rose from the couch in a single, dangerous motion. "You're drunk," Chris said. "Go sleep it off."

"Hell, I ain't that drunk." He gave an ugly laugh. "Isn't this sweet? The big, strong Special Forces hero is a faggot. No wonder Dad was so set against you joining the Navy. We know what goes on below decks, right? And then there's nobody more macho than a SEAL. You sure had us all fooled. What is the policy? Don't ask, don't tell?"

"This isn't any of your business. Just get out." Chris's voice held a note of icy warning, but his brother was too drunk to hear it. A lifetime of jealousy came pouring out.

"What about Sarah? Was she just window-dressing for you career? And Adam ... he must have been the crown jewel. Look, I have a son! That proves I'm no fag. God, it must have been such a relief when they died -"

Chris couldn't take any more. His forearm came up and using the weight of his body, he shoved him against the wall. "I could kill you for that," he rasped. He pressed harder on William's larynx.

"Chris - don't. It ain't worth it." Vin's hand came down on Chris's shoulder. Chris was breathing hard, all of his grief and pain etching his face. Vin felt sick. He never wanted this. Never wanted to alienate Chris from his family, no matter what the cost. "Back off, Chris." He pulled him away from his brother. "Let it go."

William was gasping. He rubbed his throat. "Go on, big man. Let the little cocksucker do your fighting for you if he's such a lethal weapon." But he took a quick step away when he saw Vin's eyes turn cold and deadly, and realized that he was looking at a truly dangerous man. He had no chance to recant what he had just said.

"William Carter Larabee, I will not have such language in my house!" Mariah Larabee stood on the bottom step. Behind her, Jen was staring at them with wide, alarmed eyes. "What is going on here?" Mariah demanded.

"Oh, mama, you don't want to know," William said. "Right, bro?"

Chris shrugged away from Vin's hold. "No. Maybe it's time it all came out. I'm sick of it. Sick of hurting and grieving. Sick of trying to hide because my choices of who or how I love damns me in the eyes of a lot of people."

"Sure, tell them, Chris. Destroy their illusions. I know I see you a lot clearer now. You and your very special friend." He sneered. "I'm going to get a drink - I already know the truth."

"You've had enough." Mariah's gentle voice was clipped and stony. "Jen, turn on some lights and make some coffee. "I have a feeling this is going to take a while. Bill, you go with her. I want to talk to Chris and Vin."

Nausea wrenched at Vin's stomach. He shouldn't have come. But it had been so natural, so easy to want to be with the man he loved at this time, when he'd suffered another loss. He couldn't seem to move; he just stood next to Chris, his shoulder brushing his, the only physical contact he could risk until he knew where they stood in Mariah Larabee's eyes.

"You two, come and sit down with me."

Vin felt like he was about to be called before the teacher for some transgression. Hadn't Mariah Larabee been a teacher? Seemed Chris had told him that. Chris sat on the sofa, Vin at a full-cushion's length away from him, but it didn't matter; he could feel the vibrations of emotions surrounding him. Apprehension, fear, anger ... but also tenderness and love. It was all that held Vin in place.

Mariah held out her hands to Chris. He knelt before her. "Son, what's going on with you? I heard some mighty ugly words being thrown at you and your friend. Are they true?"

Vin wouldn't let Chris weather this alone. He spoke up. "Yes, ma'am. I reckon I've always been the way I am. But Chris ... I mean I never tried, ma'am ..." he trailed off, not wanting to say anything that would repel her.

"Son?"

"I love him, Mama. I'm sorry if it breaks your heart."

Mariah tenderly stroked Chris's blond hair. "The only thing that would break my heart was if you never found love again. And Vin, I hardly have to ask if you love him, too."

"I'd die for him."

Mariah looked deep into his eyes and read the truth there. She relaxed in her chair. "How long have you been together?" she asked Chris.

"Three years."

Mariah laughed. "Oh, my! Three years? That's longer than any relationship your sister has had ... longer than your brother's marriage lasted. Frankly, I find their choices a lot more questionable than yours." She smiled at Vin. "I knew, or suspected last night. The way you looked after Chris ... the way you looked at him. I just didn't know if your feelings were returned."

"They are. In every way." Chris said. His hand caught Vin's, their fingers entwined, unashamed to show that affection in front of his mother. "Mama, is this all right?" He sounded so young, like an uncertain boy instead of the leader of men that he was.

Mariah smiled slightly. "Your father ... well, he's probably raging mad right now, but I'm not him. Never was. God knows how we managed to hold the marriage together. Yet even in the worst times, we loved each other. That will take you a long way. I know there's folks who would use those ugly words and who would damn you for loving as you do, and I'm surely sorry that one of them is your own brother, but I'm not like that. I figure when God gives you the capacity to love, you use it wisely. That's all he asks of us."

Vin felt a huge weight lifting from him. Next to him, Chris's shoulders straightened and they were standing, still holding hands, when Jen and William came into the room.

"God, don't tell me you condone this?" William said. "It's sick!"

"No, son. It's not 'sick.' I won't have that kind of talk in this house - or out of it," she warned. "This private. It's family. Whether or not you approve, Chris is still your brother, your blood. I expect you to behave in a civilized manner at the service. I need my children right now." She wiped a tear from her eyes. "Please."

"Oh, mama." Jen set down the tray of mugs. "Of course!" She looked from Chris to Vin and shook her head sadly. "It's true. All the good ones are either married or gay."

Vin smiled. "Jist think of me as another brother and you'll be all right." He handed a mug of coffee to Mariah, and one to Chris before taking one for himself. He figured Bill could help himself. Most assholes could.

+ + + + + + +

He sat in the pew behind the Larabee family at Mass. Father Murphy gave the requisite sermon of praise and faith for the eternal salvation of Franklin Adam Larabee. Jen and Mariah sat between Chris and Bill, who didn't look at each other or exchange the Sign of Peace. Hell, that alone would start folks talking, Vin thought. When the service was over, six Marines from the local reserve group carried the flag-draped casket from the church, followed by the family and friends, who went to a reception in the church hall.

Vin found Chris in the crowded room. "I'll see ya back at the house. With Bill starin' daggers at us, folks'll start wondering."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not me. Maybe not even you, but yer Ma is a real lady. She needs her friends right now, not their judgments on you an' me. We'll go back to Denver, but she'll be livin' here. She doesn't need any talk."

Chris looked at him, love fleeting and hot lighting his eyes before his guard was back in place. "I'll ride with Jen. Thank you."

"Thank me when we git back home."

"Oh, I intend to."

Vin ducked out quickly, before anyone could see the betraying blush on his cheeks. He drove the rental car back to the Larabee house, then started packing. Before they had left for church, he had called Buck and asked if he could pull a few strings to get him on a flight. As an ATF agent, the airlines were glad to have him as extra security on crowded planes at this time of year. He arranged for a cab to take him to the Indianapolis airport to catch the flight to Chicago, and from there, home. He didn't want to leave Chris, but it would be for the best if he did. The family needed time to grieve, to heal. Not argue about whether or not Chris and him were shacking up.

He wrote a note and put it on Chris's bed, then another for Mariah, which he left on the kitchen table. He was on the way to the airport in half an hour.

+ + + + + + +

It was dusk; a beautiful, clear, perfect Christmas Eve. Vin stood on the deck watching the first stars glimmering overhead. The moon was just starting to shed its light on the snow-covered fields. Peso and Pony were still frolicking in their corral. It was a scene that was timeless in its simplicity and peace. If only Chris were here, it would be perfect.

He heard the glide of the sliding doors behind him. "Buck, I thought ya went home."

"I am home." Warm, hard arms wrapped around Vin, turned him. Chris's eyes reflected the moonlight; pale as jade, but lit with love. He kissed Vin. "Your lips are cold."

Vin was stunned. "C-Chris, what're you doin' here?" he stuttered.

"You aren't the only one calling in favors."

"What about your family? They need ya."

"When my mother read your note, she told me that if I didn't go home for Christmas I was a bigger fool than Bill. 'You've got love waiting for you. That's the most important thing in this world,' she said. So, being a dutiful son, I packed up and left. I'll go back after New Years for a week or so to help with some legal matters and personal effects, but for now, I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Bet yer brother was thrilled with that."

"Before I left, I asked him how many friends did he have who trusted him with their lives? Who would follow him to hell and back? I have six, including one who loves me and who I will love until death do us part. I asked him to tell me who was more bent? When he couldn't answer, I walked out the door."

"You did that fer me?" Vin asked, wondering what he had done in this life to deserve such a love.

"I did it for us." He kissed Vin again. "And to show Bill that being an ass won't make his life richer or better."

"Think he got the point?"

"No. But that's his problem. I can't help that." He touched Vin's cheek. "You're shivering."

"In case ya haven't noticed, it's cold out here."

"Then maybe we should go inside. I'll heat up some cider, light a fire. We never did get the ornaments on the tree."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Then maybe I can undecorate you." Chris's breath was warm on his face. "Hmm?"

Vin pulled Larabee close. He caught Chris's lip lightly between his teeth, nibbled on it gently. "S'long as I c'n open my present," he murmured. "I'll git Pony and Peso settled."

"No. I'll do it. You go inside and warm up." He kissed Vin tenderly, deeply, until Vin didn't care if the deck was the fucking Arctic Circle. There was an inferno burning in him.

He broke away, gasping. "Don't think I could get much warmer," he said, still clasping Chris's arms.

Chris smiled. "Trust me, you can." He released Vin and set off down the steps and across the fields. Vin was half-tempted to follow him to the barn, but the wind had kicked up and he was starting to shiver again without Chris's surrounding warmth.

He went inside and laid a fire in the hearth, then went into the kitchen and poured cider into two mugs, added splashes of Applejack and put them in the microwave to heat when Chris finished in the barn. He switched on the tree lights. They had strung them the night before the phone call summoning them to Indiana.

Boxes of ornaments were piled in the corner. Vin pulled them out and opened them. They made him smile. No color-coordinated, high-priced ornaments for Chris. Each one meant something: from the seven shellacked gingerbread men Casey had made - each one dressed like a team member -- to the antique carved angel Chris had given Sarah the year Adam was born and the crooked little star Adam had made for his father in kindergarten. There was the silver and turquoise dreamcatcher Chris had given him last year, and the small ivory-handled Colt six-shooter that Vin had picked out for Chris.

Vin took those two and hung them on the tree. He'd let Chris place the other ones. He stood back and admired how the lights glimmered on the silver and ivory. He was still standing there when he heard Larabee in the mud room. A few minutes later, Chris came into the den, the mugs in his hands. He handed one to Vin, then crouched down in front of the fire, holding out his hands.

"It's going to be a cold Christmas Eve," he said.

"Not as cold as some I've known," Vin replied. He couldn't help looking back each year at how far he had come. "Hey, I got a card from Graciela. And one from Abel." He would be eternally grateful for the two Denver cops who had saved his life so many Christmases ago. "Graciela sent an ornament." He held out the latest addition to the collection; a miniature of "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn."

Chris rose. "I forgot something." He went down the hall to the bedroom and came back with a small box. "My mother gave me this before I left." He opened it. It was a silver "Sheriff" star, slightly dented and a bit tarnished. "When I was five, my dad and I went shopping together to buy something for her for Christmas. This is what I picked out. My dad tried to talk me out of it, but I was a cowboy even then. It didn't matter to mom. She loved it and hung it on the tree every year. She said she thought we might like to have it for our tree."

"Our tree?" Vin whispered. "That means she's okay with us bein' together?"

"She said we had already found the greatest gift." He touched Vin's cheek. "I couldn't ask for more." He strung the star on a branch, right above the two ornaments Vin had hung. "C'mon, partner. Let's get this tree decorated."

+ + + + + + +

They stood in front of the tree, now decked in holiday glory. Chris's arm was secure around Vin's shoulders, and Vin's arm curved around Chris's slim waist. "It's a real nice tree. How come every year it's prettier than the last?"

"Let's face it, pard, when you live like we do, each Christmas is a miracle. Makes us appreciate it more."

Vin was silent for a minute. "I asked my grandpa once why we decorate trees at Christmas. He said that in the winter, decorating the trees reminds us that spring's gonna come, no matter how bleak and cold it is."

"He was a real smart man." He kissed Vin, passion kindling.

Vin felt that passion, and felt his body rising to it. He buried his hands in Chris's hair and held him close as he deepened the kiss. "Thought ya said something about 'undecorating' me."

"Oh, yeah ..." Chris's fingers began working at the buttons on Vin's denim shirt. "Sometimes you have to take off a few ornaments to see the real beauty." He stripped the shirt off and tugged Vin's t-shirt over his head. "That's better."

Vin felt himself blushing and aroused by Chris's devouring gaze. If he waited much longer, he'd be lost. "Let's see how that works." Vin grabbed the hem of Chris's sweater and lifted it over his raised arms. He stood back a moment. "Looks better already. Still might be more on it than needs to be." He gave Chris a push towards the couch. Unresisting, Larabee sat. Vin knelt and pulled off Chris's socks, ran his hands up his hard thighs and unzipped and unsnapped his jeans. He tugged jeans and briefs off. He sat back for a moment, admiring his lover's beautiful body. His cock was already swollen and erect. His eyes were lit with smoky anticipation. Vin could see the pulse of his heartbeat in his throat. He touched that hollow, felt the blood surging through Chris's body. He kissed his way from throat and clavicle, to the hard nubs of Chris's nipples and down the lean plane of his stomach and groin.

Vin licked his lips; he could smell the sweet musk of Chris's semen as it welled from his penis. He lapped at it, quickly, lightly and heard Chris's breath draw in sharply. He took the head in his mouth, swirled his tongue around it. It was velvety, soft, moist. He tasted his lover's seed, as sweet as nectar.

Chris groaned as Vin suckled him. The release he needed so desperately rushed through him; Vin could feel its building intensity in the movements of Chris's body. Larabee's hips thrust his cock deeper and Vin took him in, his throat and tongue working skillfully to bring Larabee to his climax. Chris cried out as his seed erupted into Vin's mouth.

Vin finally raised himself, releasing Chris in a slow, sensuous withdrawal. Chris was panting, his skin was gleaming with a sheen of perspiration, and he was smiling. Vin never thought Chris looked more beautiful than he did now; in the glow of Christmas lights and flickering firelight. He kissed his way back up to Chris's mouth, finishing with a deep, tender kiss. "Love you," he whispered. "Don't know of anything better than that."

Chris sighed and opened his dreamy eyes. He held out his hand. "C'mere. I know of one thing. I've got that present you wanted."

Vin slid up from his knees. "Yeah?"

"But I'm the one who gets to unwrap it." Chris sat forward, pulled Vin close and opened the snap on his jeans. He slid the zipper down slowly, letting his fingers play over Vin's cock through the denim. He pulled the throw from the back of the couch and arranged it on the floor. "I gotta deal with this package on the floor," he said.

Vin wasn't about to argue. He felt like all his blood had flooded to his groin. He sank down, clinging to Chris's arms as he was lowered to the soft throw. He raised his hips so Chris could strip off his jeans, then they were both naked and his body was covered by the full length of the Chris's warmth. Chris braced himself and kissed Vin as their cocks teased each other; hard flesh, crisp hair, velvety skin.

"What do you think so far?" Chris asked. His lips brushed lightly over Vin's.

"S'nice, but I still ain't getting' the full effect." With a sudden, wiry move, Chris was tipped to his back and Vin was the one on top.

"Someday you have to teach me that move," Chris muttered. But he smiled and threaded his fingers through Vin's curls. "Not that I'm complaining."

"I'm keepin' that a secret," Vin said. He ran his finger down Chris's breastbone. "It's the only way I c'n get ya where I want you."

"You can have me any time, any place," Chris whispered. "All you have to is say so.."

"So." Vin whispered back. He leaned forward to kiss Chris, rubbing his cock against Larabee's, moving his pelvis in a sinuous movement. He felt Chris's body responding. Felt the sudden warmth of cum smearing between their shafts as their semen mingled. He slicked his fingers with the moisture and massaged the sensitive bridge of flesh between Chris's balls and anus. Chris angled his hips up and spread his legs, offering himself for the taking; an act of trust and choice that took Vin's breath away.

He reached up to the end table for the tube of lubrication he had put there before the unexpected trip to Indiana. He spread some on Chris and on his own fingers, then gently slipped them into Chris's body, working the tight muscles until they loosened and Chris was nearly begging Vin to take him.

Vin was aching, his cock leaking and swollen. He wanted Chris so badly, wanted him so completely that he could scarcely breathe; but he wouldn't hurt him by taking what he wanted before Chris was as ready as he was. As his fingers played inside Chris's body, he bent over and sucked Chris's glans, lapping at the weeping slit with devastating delicacy. Chris cursed and writhed, his breath coming in hoarse gasps of suppressed desire.

Then just when he was poised on the brink of climax, Vin positioned himself and pushed his shaft into Chris's hole. Larabee cried out. His arms wrapped around Vin like bands of iron. Vin rocked deeper, the head of his cock rubbing against Chris's prostate. The sensation was exquisite, breathtaking. Chris's muscles tightened around him. Vin felt his orgasm rushing through him; thighs, belly, groin. He ejaculated into Chris, as Larabee's second climax loosed a spurt of hot cum. Vin's hoarse cry of ecstasy was echoed by Chris. Then they were both spent, collapsed in each other's arms, unable and unwilling to move.

Too soon, Vin's flesh softened and slipped from Chris's body. He lived for those all too brief moments when they were one flesh, one mind. He was never so free as when their bodies were tethered together, linked by sex and love.

Vin pulled the throw over them, cocooning them in warmth. He didn't want to move even though he knew he would start shivering from the aftermath of sex. He just let Chris hold him close; his breath stirring his hair.

"Did you like your present?" Chris asked.

"It's one gift where the getting' is even better than the wantin'," Vin sighed. "I'll never stop wantin' you, Chris. And it ain't jist being with you like this - it's everything."

"It's love," Chris said. They were silent together for a bit, then Chris moved. "I'll start that shower." He got up and made sure that Vin was covered before he gathered up his clothes and headed for the master bath.

Vin waited until he was out of sight. Then he stood, still wrapped up in the throw. He opened the end table drawer. The velvet box with the ebony and silver ring was still in there. He gave it a quick look, smiled, and then joined Chris in the shower.

A while later, wrapped in warm terry robes and seated on the floor in front of the fireplace, Vin pulled the box out of his pocket. "I got a present for ya, Chris."

Chris raised his brow. "I don't think I can handle another present tonight, partner."

"Wanta try?" Vin winked, and when Chris's eyes widened, he laughed. "Naw, I'm 'bout as played out as I've ever been. This is easier, I promise."

He held out his hands. His silver and turquoise ring glinted on his left ring finger. He opened his right hand; the silver and ebony ring was in his palm. "Last year, ya gave me my ring. I figured it was time I did the same fer you."

Chris picked it up. He held it, admiring the ring, and obviously touched. "Vin, it's amazing." His voice was soft, a bit hoarse with emotion.

"Will ya wear it, Chris?"

"'Til death do us part." Chris slid it on his finger. "Perfect fit."

They both knew wearing the rings meant wearing them on a chain, out if sight in public, only putting them on their fingers when they were alone. But that didn't change what they represented: Love. The greatest gift.

The End

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