Disclaimers: I don't own these men. Darn it.
Comments: Another answer to another challenge from my daughter to use an unusual song title for a fic. This one was almost too easy.
He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it started, but he knew the very second it had gotten out of his control. And it never should have happened; there was absolutely no reason for it. Vin was doing nothing out of the ordinary - nothing exciting, nothing dangerous, nothing in least bit sexy, for God's sake.But standing in the doorway of his office, watching Vin struggle through yet another report, Chris found he could no longer fight the urge to touch.
As he came up behind Vin, the younger man sighed deeply and pushed both hands through his hair -- an obvious sign that he was stressed. Vin might be astonishingly calm when peering through the scope of a high powered weapon, but a few letters on a keyboard freaked him out.
Laying a hand on his friend's back, Chris calmly spoke. "Take it easy, Vin. It's just a stupid report - not a matter of life or death."
His fingers lingered too long on the stiff shoulder before casually weaving themselves in the silky strands of Vin's hair. That was a mistake, but he caught himself too late, and only after Vin slanted a flaming cheek his direction. Definite heat there, skimming along the fine bones of Vin's face, in the bright blue of his eyes and in the warmth of skin beneath Chris's fingertips. Out of control for both of them, and it had to stop. Somehow, it had to stop.
Chris thought he might know a way, but how to present it to Vin was the question. That certainly wasn't the time or place, especially when Buck and JD made an unexpected appearance.
"I'm tellin' ya, JD, she dug me." Buck's boisterous voice preceded his lean frame through the door.
"She dug you? This ain't the seventies, Buck, nobody talks like that anymore. Besides, that waitress is way too young for you."
"You're just jealous because she isn't interested in you," Buck argued.
"She's not interested in you, either. She was just passing the time because Vin wasn't with us."
"And speaking of the devil," Buck said, apparently just noticing that he and JD were not alone in the office, "what are you two still doing here? It's Friday night, the bad guys are all locked away, thanks in large part to yours truly, and-"
"Oh, for Pete's sake, Buck," JD interrupted with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
"I repeat the question, what are you two doing here? I figured you'd have left hours ago."
Chris didn't want to say that Vin hadn't left because he hadn't finished his report. And he sure didn't want to confess that he hadn't left because Vin was still there, so he answered Buck's question with one of his own. "And you two left hours ago, so why did you come back? And don't tell me it's because of your uncompromising commitment to the job."
"You wound me, Chris," Buck replied seriously. "But alright. The kid here forgot his keys."
"Well, good, then you can lock up. Vin and I were just leaving," Chris stated.
Vin finally looked up from the keyboard to protest, "But Chris-"
"We're leaving, Vin. That can wait til Monday."
Anger, or maybe embarrassment, colored Vin's face as he rose to his feet, but he hid it with a dip of his head. "Whatever," he mumbled. "You're the boss."
That wasn't quite the reaction Chris was hoping for, certainly not the one he was expecting. Chris never played his authority as a trump card -- unless it was on the job, of course, and even then Vin acted like the distinction was negotiable. But it was clear from his tone of voice that Vin was upset with him, and Chris began to doubt his earlier assumptions.
Maybe Vin didn't want him. Maybe this was a completely one-sided infatuation.
Or maybe not.
Vin turned just then and looked at him from the corner of his eye, and Chris knew that he was seeing the same confusion, frustration, and pure want in his friend's eyes that was undoubtedly reflected in his own.
He swallowed. And remembering that Buck and JD were still present, he attempted to recapture the former casualness of the moment. "You boys have a good weekend," he said, shuffling Vin out the door ahead of him with a lightly placed hand on his back.
"Hey wait! Where you two goin'?" JD piped up. "Maybe me and Buck could-"
"We ain't goin' nowhere until you figure out where the hell you left your keys!" Buck snapped.
"Well it wouldn't be a problem if you hadn't given Darlene your key to our apartment, Buck," JD argued.
Shaking his head, Chris kept on walking. He waited until they reached the elevator to ask Vin if he wanted to get a drink somewhere. Any other time, Vin would likely toss out his answer without much thought. Hell, any other time, Chris would know his answer without asking. But he'd screwed things up when those damn traitorous fingers had strayed to the wavy dark hair; it seemed that the intimate gesture had knocked Vin off balance.
With a shrug, Vin finally replied, "Kinda late. And I'm tired."
"Vin, I . . ."
He stopped there, mostly because he had no idea what else to say. He'd already upset Vin, so admitting that he spent every free moment thinking about him, dreaming about him, fantasizing about him - well, he had a hunch that wouldn't go over too well.
But now that he'd stopped sidestepping the issue in his mind, he couldn't let it go, either.
The elevator arrived at the parking garage, and Chris caught on that Vin was staring at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "I don't feel like going home to an empty house just yet. I mean, I need to unwind a bit. You know."
It was a pathetic attempt to garner Vin's sympathy, and he probably should have felt more guilty than he did when it worked. "Alright," Vin agreed. "Stop at my place and have a beer before you go."
Chris smiled. "A beer would be good." Privacy with Vin would be even better.
"One beer," Vin emphasized. "I ain't drivin' you home tonight and I ain't listenin' to you bitch in the morning that my couch ain't comfortable."
"One beer," Chris agreed with a grin. But when he got in his car, he decided one beer would never be enough to give him the courage he needed to confront Vin.
It shouldn't be that hard, he told himself. He and Vin were about as close as two friends could be. They practically read each other's minds. It was only natural that this odd sexual attraction would come into play. All they had to do was act on it once, and that would be it. Chris was certain the moment he and Vin lay down together -- that thought at once terrifying and exhilarating -- it would be over. They'd quickly realize that they were two heterosexual men and whatever this thing was between them would be vanquished, once and for all.
But could their relationship withstand the trial? He thought so. He prayed so. He'd rather live with this unsettling, nauseating, increasingly desperate longing for Vin than lose his friendship altogether.
It turned out that he didn't need any alcohol to make his move. Vin had just pulled the bottle out of the frig and handed it to him when he realized he'd rather say it all straight up and sober. No chance of misunderstanding that way, or less chance, anyway.
Vin twisted the cap off his beer and took a deep swallow, before leaning back against the counter and watching Chris curiously.
Chris held onto his own unopened bottle like a lifeline; the urge to get it all out in the open burning strong within him. He never was one for playing games, anyway. "What's going on with us, Vin?" he asked bluntly.
Vin tensed as he gripped the counter behind him with one hand, the other still holding onto the bottle of booze tightly. Chris watched the play of muscles under the tight, black t-shirt, and the vision of that bare chest quickly came to mind. He'd seen all that Vin had to offer, generally under the worst circumstances . . . emergency rooms and hospital beds. There were a few times when Vin had helped him out at the ranch, but Tanner would soak a shirt with sweat before he'd take the damn thing off.
And Chris wanted him to take the damn thing off now. The jeans, too. All of it. Made no sense at all, Chris thought; he was a man who had been content with soft curves his entire life, but suddenly he ached to feel long bone and hard muscle against him.
No sense at all.
"We're just good friends," Vin finally replied, his voice a low, wispy rasp that only made Chris more determined.
How had he missed that before, how sexy Vin's voice was?
"I don't think so. I mean, yeah, we're good friends, but there's something more going on between us. I don't know what it is, exactly, but I think we need to -- to talk about it."
Vin turned away from him, slamming the bottle on the counter with enough force to spill liquid from the mouth. But he regained control just as quickly, taking a deep breath before he uttered, "Better t' let it lie. Nothin' we can do about it anyway."
Setting his own bottle on the counter next to Vin's, Chris moved up behind him and said softly, "There's one thing we can do. Maybe if we get it out in the open . . . maybe if we try -"
"No," Vin answered abruptly.
The doubt returned; maybe he was the only one there feeling like a hormonal teenager, maybe Vin really didn't want him. But no, if that were the case, Vin would tell him straight up. Tanner didn't play games, either.
"Vin," he tried once more, moving close enough to speak directly in Vin's ear. "Ignoring this isn't working. At least, not for me. I wonder all the time what it would be like if you and I acted on our attraction. Just once. Hell, I'm not gay and neither or you -- we probably couldn't even get it up."
Vin kept his back to him and spoke softly under his breath, "Don't wake the monster."
Not sure he was hearing correctly, Chris leaned in closer and asked, "What? What was that?"
But Vin only shook his head. Chris was close enough that he could hear Vin's uneven breath, and he sensed, rather than felt, the slight tremble that coursed through his friend's body.
"I know you want it, too, Vin. I can feel it. And it's not going to go away, for either of us. Not until we get it out of our system. If we . . . if we try it, just once . . . then-"
"No, I can't," Vin stated emphatically, almost desperately. "I don't wanna know. I can't touch you and feel you and . . ." He paused and licked his lips before continuing, "I can't think that you're mine - not even for a moment, Chris. I just can't."
He got it then. And the knowing was almost more than he could contemplate. He stepped away from Vin so he could think for a minute, catch his breath. He'd had it all wrong; Vin wouldn't turn him away because he didn't want him, but because he wanted him too much. And it wasn't their friendship that might not survive a brief sexual experiment, but Vin's heart that would likely be the casualty.
And he couldn't risk it. Hurting himself was never much of an issue, but hurting Vin was out of the question.
"Alright," he said softly. He turned and picked up his coat off the kitchen table and headed for the door.
He looked back as he left the apartment, but Vin didn't. Chris decided it was better that way. He didn't want to see Vin's face, Vin's eyes. He didn't want to know any more than he already did.
Maybe Vin was right - let sleeping dogs lie.
+ + + + + + +
Vin shouldn't have been surprised when it happened, but he was. Not a week after Chris approached him in his kitchen, he started dating Mary Travis. It wasn't unexpected, not really; there had always been a mutual attraction between the two, anyone could see it. Vin thought it went deeper on her side, but maybe he was wrong.
It was a good thing, Chris and Mary. Everyone said so. The beautiful widow and the handsome widower, both of them strong, smart, and independent, were like a match made in heaven. Toss in a little boy in need of a father, and it was meant to be. A perfect couple.
Buck was elated. He'd tried for three years to get Chris to open his eyes. But for all those years, Chris had danced around the subject, although he had formed an abiding friendship with the woman.
So no one was surprised. Except Vin.
It was no big deal when she and Chris went out for dinner that week. It wasn't the first time, after all. But when Chris began to routinely opt out of Friday nights at the bar with the boys for dinner and a movie with Mary, Vin knew the friendship had moved into another phase.
That was real good. He was happy for Chris. It didn't matter that he couldn't sleep and he had to force himself to eat; didn't matter that his legs felt like wood every time he stepped into the office; didn't matter that he couldn't look at Chris without remembering the feel of his breath against his neck - without thinking of the offer Chris had made.
It didn't matter because Chris had been wrong, although it wasn't his fault -- he couldn't have known. Vin had nearly snickered that day at Chris's words . . . "we probably couldn't even get it up." That sure wasn't a problem, Vin thought ruefully, not for him. No, the problem was taming his damn dick every time Chris got too close.
He shouldn't have been surprised that Chris moved on after his rejection. Larabee wasn't one to sit around on his ass and brood. Vin shook his head and chuckled lightly as he twisted the beer bottle in his hands. Okay, so maybe Larabee was exactly the type to sit around and brood -- but he hadn't this time. Nope. Chris had dismissed the so-called attraction between them in less than seven days and moved on to greener pastures.
Vin sat the half empty bottle on his coffee table and rose to his feet. No use him brooding about it, either. He hadn't given Chris a choice because he'd meant what he said. There was just no way he could feel Chris's heart beat against him, taste his lips, touch his skin. He would never recover from that. It was hard enough to look at the man every day as it was.
Sleep eluded him that night, as it had many nights before. If only Chris hadn't tried, hadn't made the offer, it would all have remained unspoken and unacknowledged -- a deep, forbidden dream. But Chris had opened the door, and Vin knew it would take long months for him to shut it tight again.
He had to try. That much was clear when Mary stepped through the door of the office the following day.
"Is Chris available?" she asked Buck.Vin looked up from his desk, just in time to see her glance towards Chris's office. It made his heart clench, seeing that look of hope and anticipation in her eyes. How many times had others witnessed the same in his own, he wondered?
Mary turned towards him then and smiled, "Hello, Vin. How are you this afternoon?"
"Good," he replied, trying to hold her eyes and failing miserably. He was certain she would know just by looking at him how badly he wanted what she had.
Chris spared him by walking out of his office at just that moment and asking, "Mary? Did we have a lunch date?"
"No. I just had a free hour and thought, if you hadn't eaten yet . . ."
"Oh. Yeah," Chris stammered, blushing as every man in the office watched his reaction -- save one.
Vin kept his head down, acting like he was consumed with his work. Last thing he needed was to see Chris and Mary staring all doe-eyed at each other. He was happy for them, of course he was, but he didn't need it rubbed in his face.
"Sure. Let's go," Chris finally managed to reply. He laid his hand on Vin's desk as he passed by and added, "You're in charge, Tanner."
There was no call for it. Chris was only going to lunch. But it was like he needed a reason to say something to him, to linger just long enough to touch his desk. Vin didn't want to think about what that meant. It was hard enough dealing with the fact that Chris never touched him anymore. Not even a hand on his shoulder. The most he could hope for these days was that Larabee would brush by his desk or chair as he journeyed along in his new life.
He sounded bitter, Vin quickly realized. He'd have to put a stop to that. This was what he wanted after all, wasn't it? It could never have worked for him and Chris, and he wanted Chris to be happy.
But as the weeks passed, and Chris seemed to settle in to a life with Mary, Vin grew more despondent. He tried to hide it, which was something he used to be good at. Apparently not so much anymore, however.
It was Ezra who called him on it. "Vin? May I talk with you a moment?"
Ezra was standing near Vin's jeep in the parking garage, and Vin could see the man waging a war within himself about whether or not to take his chances and lean against the less than spotless vehicle. Apparently, he decided his new suit was worth more than the effort to get comfortable, though he did his best to relax his stance and appear casual.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Vin fished his keys out of his pocket and replied, "Nothin' to talk about that I know of, but go ahead."
"It's just that . . . I've noticed . . . you appear as though . . . not that it's any of my business, but-"
"Just say it, Ezra," Vin snapped, already weary of the man. Either Ezra beat around the bush a hundred times to make a point, or he used such big words that no one understood him.
"You haven't lost your best friend, Vin," Ezra said then, his quiet voice still managing to echo in the wide open spaces of the cement garage. "I imagine it feels like it, but that is hardly the case. Chris is in the throes of new love at the moment, embracing the newly reborn ecstasy of romance, riding the blissful waves of-"
"I get it, Ezra," Vin snapped, wondering what he'd done in his life to deserve this latest torment.
"Yes, I suppose you do. My point is that eventually things will once again settle into their rightful place and Chris will have time for you again."
Dear God, was he that pathetic? He glared at Ezra, wondering how in the hell the man thought he was making an already impossible situation better by reminding him not only that he was miserable, but that everyone knew he was miserable.
Not trusting himself to speak, Vin edged closer to his car, anxious for a quick escape.
"You are far too important to him to be cast aside," Ezra continued, twisting the knife, though Vin was certain his teammate's intention was not to hurt him. "I just wanted you to know that I am available to lend an ear, share a drink, whatever suits you."
Vin bit his lip as he regained his composure. Damn Ezra for bringing it all out in the open -- didn't anyone know when to leave well enough alone? But since he had, Vin could hardly be rude and turn him away.
"Thanks, Ez. I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine."
"Of course you are. But-"
"Chris is happy. Buck's happy that Chris is happy. JD's happy if Buck is happy. Josiah's so happy he's already practicin' his sermon for the wedding. Hell, Nathan's so full up with all this damn happiness, he can hardly see straight. It's all good. I'm fine with it. Don't need a 'best friend' -- I ain't some silly school girl. In fact, I'm happy, too -- elated, overjoyed -- so quit yer frettin' and join the don't-worry-be-happy club, Ezra."
If that wasn't the most ridiculous mouthful of shit he'd ever spouted, he didn't know what was.
And damn if Ezra didn't know it, too, because he just looked at Vin sadly and said, "The offer stands."
Ezra went to his own car then, and Vin was glad that his friend was no longer around to witness how his hands shook when he tried to fit the key in the lock of his car door.
But it obviously wasn't his day. The keys slipped from his hands and slid under the car. He was on his hands and knees, cursing the poor light in a federal parking garage, when he noticed a pair of high heels standing a few feet from him. By the time he laid eyes on the keys and got a hold of them, a voice had accompanied the shoes and the long, very shapely legs.
"Vin? I'm sorry to bother you, but can I ask a favor?"
He nearly banged his head on the underside of his jeep as he quickly pulled himself out and got to his feet. Immediate guilt flooded him, and he knew the flush of his face had given him away. This was a new low for him, ogling Mary's legs. Mary Travis belonged to Chris, which was just fine. He didn't want her anyway, even if she did have nice legs.
"Vin?" she called his name again.
Finally finding his tongue, he replied, "Yeah?"
"Um, well, I hate to ask, but I have a flat tire."
"You want me t' change it for you?" Vin offered, relieved to have something else to occupy his mind.
"No. I mean, that would be nice of you, but what I really need is a ride. I have an interview in a few minutes and I'm afraid I won't get there in time."
"Oh. Sure," he said, immediately moving around to the other side of the car to get the door for her.
"Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. It took me months to get this interview and I doubt I'll ever get this opportunity again. I can call someone to look at my car and to take me home after. So if you just drop me off, that would be wonderful."
She was rambling, and Vin got the distinct impression that she was as uncomfortable with him as he was with her. Did she know that Chris had approached him first? He had the ridiculously childish urge to say, "He's only with you because I turned him down." Of course, he didn't say that, in part because he was a nice guy who didn't want to hurt anyone, least of all Mary Travis, and in part because he knew that was only the partial truth. Chris hadn't approached him with a request for a relationship, merely a sexual encounter. "Maybe if we try . . . just once . . ."
That's all it would have been, too, just once. None of that -- how had Ezra put it? Being in the throes of new love? Riding around on ecstasy and romance and waves? No, none of that. It was all about satisfying an urge, scratching an itch - and apparently Chris forgot all about curiosity killing the damn cat. But Vin hadn't forgotten. He knew danger when he saw it.
"Turn left here, Vin," Mary's hesitant voice interrupted his musings. "That's it. You can just drop me off here."
Vin took in the small Italian restaurant and his heart caught in his throat.
"Mary, who are you meeting here?"
"Don't worry about it, Vin. Thanks for the ride."
"I ain't stoppin' the car until you tell me. We both know who owns this place and what his reputation is."
"Mr. Castillo's ties with the mob have never been proven. And he's finally asking for a chance to tell his side."
"Great. He can tell it t' somebody else."
"If you don't let me out, I'll find another way to get here. I'm not backing down on this. I've worked too hard and everyone deserves a chance to tell their story. I don't care what his reputation is."
Damn fool woman, Vin muttered under his breath. Talk about a reputation, Mary Travis was well known for her stubbornness, and apparently it wasn't exaggerated. The problem was, she was going to get herself killed, and then what would happen to Chris?
"I'll let you out. But I'm goin' in with you."
"Absolutely not. He'll never speak to me if you're with me."
"You two can talk real private like, just as long as I'm nearby. It's either that, or I call Chris." He emphasized his point by pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.
She begrudgingly agreed, and Vin pulled his jeep into the small parking lot behind the restaurant.
The "Closed" sign was on the door, but Mary knocked on it anyway.
"They're not here. Let's go," Vin said, prepared to physically drag her away if he had to.
But true to her nature, she couldn't let it go as she pushed on the door to let herself inside.
"Hello? Mr. Castillo? Are you here?" she called out.
Vin had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, but Mary left him no choice; he had to follow her inside.
A male voice with a thick Italian accent quickly called out to her. "It's not a good time, Mrs. Travis. We'll need to reschedule."
Before Mary could reply, a large man with a gun walked out from a back room. "Actually, it's the perfect time," he said. He smiled at Mary and added, "How wise of you to bring a bodyguard." He then turned his attention to Vin and ordered, "Remove your coat."
Vin thought about arguing as his hand instinctively reached inside his jacket for his own weapon. The big guy might get off a shot, but Vin was reasonably confident he could take him down first.
That is until two other equally large brutes came out from the kitchen with guns of their own, dragging the obviously resistant Castillo along with them. "Leave them out of this," the older man ordered. "They have nothing to do with us."
"That's true," the first man said with wicked grin. "But they could come in handy as a bargaining chip -- especially if you are sincere in your claims that you have turned over a new leaf, Hector. Surely you will not want such innocent -- and beautiful -- blood on your hands."
Vin hated the way the guy leered at Mary, but he kept his mouth shut and took off his jacket. He was quickly frisked and disarmed by one of the other men, before he and Mary were led to corner and ordered to sit on the floor.
"I'm so sorry I got you into this," Mary whispered.
"Me, too," Vin admitted. But he added with as much assurance as he could muster, "Don't worry, we'll be fine."
He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he would do whatever he could to keep Mary safe and spare Chris further grief.
+ + + + + + +
Channel-surfing wasn't his style, but Chris found himself unusually restless that evening. He normally watched the news, but it didn't hold his interest, and neither did anything else. Finally giving up, he clicked off the television and moved to his cd collection instead. He had a little bit of everything, mostly because his friends had a wide variety of tastes and they all seemed bent on imposing their choices on him. He hadn't been surprised to find out that Mary listened to classical music, but she'd stunned him when she had expressed equal passion for alternative rock and country. It was funny, but her taste in music was actually similar to Vin's.
Not that he spent much time comparing the two -- he didn't. There probably couldn't be two more different people on the earth than Mary and Vin, aside from the fact that they were both beautiful . . . and stubborn . . . and passionate. Fiercely independent. Loyal to a fault. Great at their jobs. So maybe they weren't so different after all.
Of course, the most important thing Vin and Mary had in common was that they both put up with him.
And they both loved him.
Nah, that was probably a stretch. But he remembered so clearly how Vin had choked on his words, "I can't think that you're mine -- not even for a moment." And just that afternoon, Mary had that wistful tone in her voice when they talked about their plans to go away for the weekend together.
He'd tried so hard not to look back after he'd left Vin's apartment that day. There was no point. He might be ready to give himself over to a sexual fling with a man, but he couldn't imagine being in a long term relationship with one. Hell, he could hardly imagine a long term relationship with Mary, and she was everything he should want. She was everything he was supposed to need. A man would have to be blind, deaf, and really, really dumb not to see what she had to offer.
Still, he seemed to spend a lot of time convincing himself how perfect she was, and even more time avoiding Vin altogether. Not only had he given up spending time with his best friend, he'd given up private conversations with him and anything that might be construed as a personal interest in him.
It had to be that way, otherwise Chris knew he'd lose the control he'd finally gained over his foolish feelings for Vin. And forget touching. His fingertips were confined to Vin's desk, Vin's chair, Vin's computer -- anything that Vin touched was fair game, so long as it wasn't the man himself. Touching by association -- that was all he could handle.
He was still deep in thought when the phone rang well after ten o'clock. His first thought was that Buck had locked himself out of his apartment again. He had no idea why his old friend always called him when that happened, especially knowing that all Chris would say was to call a locksmith and hang up on him.
But it was Josiah this time, and his voice was far too serious. "Chris? We have a . . . situation."
A situation was never a good thing; the hesitation in Josiah's voice told him that this time it was worse than not good, it was personal.
"Go on."
"It's uh . . . it's Mary."
"What?" his heart hammered in his throat. He wasn't exactly sure of his feelings for the woman just yet, but there was no denying that he cared deeply about her.
"Apparently she was interviewing Hector Castillo tonight and-"
"She what?" Chris roared. "Has she lost her mind?"
"I don't know, Chris."
He quieted enough to ask the important thing. "Is she alright? What happened?"
"I don't know that, either. We just know that we have a hostage situation at Castillo's restaurant and Mary is there."
"Shit," he muttered, unable to clear his head enough to say anything else just yet.
Josiah's voice grew even more ominous as he continued, "There's more, Chris. Apparently Vin brought her there. He's inside, too."
Now he was sure someone was messing with him. "That doesn't make any sense at all, Josiah."
"Yeah. I know. But you better get down here."
This could only happen to him. God surely had a twisted, bizarre sense of humor; that was the only explanation for how the two people he had on his mind all night -- the two people he couldn't decide about having a relationship with -- wait, no, he wasn't thinking about a relationship with Vin. That was never in question. He went back to his original thought that it was just too unbelievable that both Vin and Mary's lives could be in danger at the same time.
But it was true. He remained on his phone the entire way to Denver, sorting out the details, what few of them there were. Apparently a patron had approached the restaurant, noted that is was closed, and had just reached his car in the parking lot when he heard what sounded like gunfire coming from inside. He'd quickly driven off and reported the incident. The police arrived to investigate, and were met with the threat of bloodshed if certain demands weren't met.
Chris wasn't sure what those demands were as yet, but he knew that Vin's jeep was in the parking lot, and that Mary definitely had an interview scheduled with Castillo for that night. A second phone call from Josiah shed more light on the situation; Mary's car was still in the parking garage - with a flat tire.
He couldn't decide who he was angrier with -- Mary for stupidly agreeing to the interview in the first place, or Vin for taking her there. The only thing he was certain of was that if anyone was the victim of the bullet fired, it would be Vin. The man had a damn bull's eye plastered across his chest. And Chris knew with certainty that Vin would easily sacrifice his own safety to keep Mary from harm.
The entire street outside the restaurant was blocked off when he arrived, with police cars and ambulances standing by. He quickly found the detective in charge, a Lieutenant Kauffman, and asked him what the situation was.
"We think it started out as a personal grievance against Castillo," Kauffman replied. "But when the squad arrived to investigate, it turned into something else. They're cornered and they know it."
"Any word on the hostages?" Chris asked, hoping the officer didn't detect the raw panic in his voice.
"No. Just that they have three -- Castillo, your man Tanner, and that newspaper woman, Mary Travis."
"How many shots were fired?"
"Just one that we know of."
That we know of . . .
The blinds were closed in the small restaurant, and Chris could barely make out the lights inside, let alone any people. "Who's communicating with them?" he asked the Lieutenant.
"I am. Not that there's much communication going on. They want a way out, but they're not going to get it."
No, they weren't. Chris knew there would be very little negotiating in this case. The best they could hope for was that the criminals would choose a lengthy prison term over certain death.
"I'm trying to get them to release Mrs. Travis as a good faith gesture," Kauffman continued.
"Yeah," Chris agreed weakly. It was what they should do -- get Mary out. Castillo was a reputed criminal himself, and Vin was a trained agent - he'd be the last one they'd negotiate for. It was part of the job, a risk they all took, but it was still grossly unfair.
"Please let him be alright," Chris whispered.
"What did you say?" Josiah's voice suddenly echoed behind his back.
Chris cleared his throat and turned to meet his fellow agent. "I said, I hope they're alright."
Josiah looked at him doubtfully for a second before stating, "I refuse to consider any other possibility."
They were soon joined by the remaining members of the team, but Chris wasn't in the mood to talk. He turned his back on them while Josiah quickly filled in the other men on the events of that evening.
A moment later, he felt Buck's sure hand on his shoulder. "They'll be fine, Chris," he promised. "We'll get them both out."
He didn't reply because he couldn't speak. A dozen conflicting emotions filled his head; fear was first among them, but regret was a close second. He had the horrible notion that he hadn't been fair to Vin or to Mary because he hadn't been honest with himself.
And now he could lose them both.
+ + + + + + +
Vin didn't have a bullet in him, but he was hurting. It was worth it, though. At least now, Mary had a chance.
He'd determined early on in the crisis that they were dead if they didn't get some help. The three criminals' demand of Castillo was actually quite simple: in repayment for some real or perceived injustice against them, they wanted the older man to sign over his restaurant to them. Their two hostages were just icing on the cake to get the man to comply. The problem was, as both Vin and Castillo knew, as soon as that signature was dry, they wouldn't need any hostages -- or any witnesses.
Castillo did his best to stall; attempting to negotiate while making threats of his own. But patience was growing thin and time was running out.
It was a fluke that a customer came to the door just when things were becoming tense, and Vin took the opportunity for what it was. He knew if he could just get one of the guys to fire at him, the customer would take off running and hopefully call the police. He had to believe there were still good people out there who would get involved rather than look the other way.
His plan worked, for the most part. He'd taken a flying leap at the criminal closest to him, hoping the man would get off a wild shot. He did his best to block Mary, but when the gun went off, he could only pray the bullet hadn't strayed and hit her. It hadn't, burrowing in a beam near the ceiling instead. And while the criminal's partners berated him for firing in the first place, the burly man took out his frustration and temper on Vin with his fists.
Vin felt the first blow to his ribs and the second to his jaw, but after that, he was only aware of laying on the floor, Mary's clear blue eyes filled with concern as she begged him to wake up.
That had been several hours ago, or at least Vin thought that much time had passed. His plan had worked; the police were outside, and undoubtedly by this time, Chris was, too. His ribs ached like a son-of-a-bitch, but Mary would get out of this -- Chris would see to it. That was unless Mary annoyed their captors so badly that they ended up shooting her before Chris could free her. The woman had spent her time asking questions and discreetly taking notes, trying to get a 'handle' on Castillo and his enemies. She'd get her story yet, Vin thought with a wry smile as his heavy eyes started to slide closed once more.
"Vin? Are you awake?"
Mary's soft voice startled him, and he cursed softly at his ineptitude. They were in the middle of a crisis situation and he'd drifted off.
"Yeah," he replied.
"How are you feeling?"
She was sitting on the floor next to him, close enough for him to smell her perfume or maybe the shampoo she used on her hair. Even under the grim circumstances, with her hair mussed and her eyes bright with fear, Vin had to admit that she was still beautiful. It was no wonder Chris was happy with her, he thought, gagging on the word "happy." He couldn't remember ever hating a simple word quite so much.
"Fine," he mumbled as he shifted a bit in an effort to sit up straighter. The movement was painful, but at least he could breathe easier.
Mary sighed and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. "You don't look fine," she said with a small grin.
"Ain't nothin'. Don't worry about me."
Her smile widened. "Of course I'll worry about you. You're my hero."
His eyes rolled, but he played along. "Just doin' my job, Ma'am."
"Your job doesn't normally include throwing yourself at a loaded weapon, I hope."
"Seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Well, it got everyone's' attention, that's for sure. But you really didn't need to get beat up on my account."
He winced when she tenderly turned his face to look at his jaw. "Don't look so frightened," she chided. "I promise not to fuss too much. I know how you hate that."
His brows furrowed as he looked at her questioningly.
"Chris told me. He talks about you a lot. Every time we're together, in fact," she explained.
Vin didn't know what to think about that, let alone what to say, so he remained silent.
Which worked out fine, because Mary was apparently just getting started. "I know he hasn't spent as much time with you lately, and I just want you to know that I'm sorry about that. I never meant to come between you. I know how much he . . . he cares for you."
"Mary -- please -- you don't have t'- t' say anything."
"Yes, I do, Vin. And now is the time. We may not get out of here alive and it's important that you know how you much mean to him."
But he chose you, Vin thought. "Uh, thanks, Mary. I, uh . . . thanks. You mean a lot to him, too," he added, just because he thought he should. Obviously she already knew how Chris felt about her, but maybe she needed to hear it as badly as he did.
And he did need to hear it. She was right about that. It was one thing to know that Chris had found someone else to care for and to meet his, uh, needs. But he had been hurt by Chris's complete withdrawal from his life.
Mary's eyes filled with tears, but she quickly brushed them away. "Yes, I think he does care for me. But . . ."
"But what?" Vin asked, not at all sure where she was going with this conversation.
"But sometimes I think that he's using me to forget someone else."
She looked at him pointedly then, and even though he knew it wasn't true, he had to turn away from her when he replied, "Not Larabee. He's not like that."
"Not intentionally, no," she said with a sad smile. "I'm quite sure he's not even aware he's doing it."
Vin wasn't sure how to respond to that, he needed time to ponder her words. But he didn't get that chance. Shots suddenly rang out in the kitchen where Castillo was being guarded by one of their captors. Within minutes, more gunfire erupted in the small restaurant. Vin threw Mary to the floor and laid down on top of her, and prayed that Chris was leading the charge.
+ + + + + + +
They wouldn't let Chris anywhere near that restaurant, not until the gun fight was essentially over. He'd been told that the SWAT team would handle it and he was to stay out of the way. Like hell, he thought, but in reality, it was pretty much over in minutes. The sound of gunfire in the kitchen spurred the officers to make their entrance through the back door, and the battle was on.
Chris didn't know exactly what happened after that, but once the last shot was fired and the smoke had started to clear, he took off running through the doorway of the restaurant, totally ignoring the ranting Lieutenant.
His eyes were immediately drawn to the corner of the dining area where Vin was gingerly pulling himself off of Mary. Although stunned, Mary immediately saw him coming towards them, and she jumped to her feet and ran into his arms.
Chris heard her gasp and felt her shaking, and he knew she was trying to be brave as she fought back tears. Holding her close, he stroked her hair and whispered in her ear, "It's alright. You don't have to be strong all the time."
As she began to softly cry on his shoulder, he allowed his eyes to move to Vin. His friend had pulled himself up to sit crookedly against the wall, but he wasn't making an effort to stand. His face was pale, and Chris noted a bruise coloring his jaw, but Vin was in good enough shape to meet his eyes and offer a weak smile.
Chris saw his world in those eyes and his life in that smile, and at just that instant he knew that he'd been a fool to think it could ever be otherwise. It was such a pure revelation to him, that when the blue eyes widened perceptibly, he was certain it was because Vin had seen the truth, as well.
But in the next few moments, as Vin's eyes slowly closed and he slumped lower against the wall, Chris suddenly recognized what had happened.
"I need help over here!" he shouted, Mary quickly forgotten in his quest to get to Vin.
He'd known it. From the very second he'd heard that Vin was involved, he'd known it would end up like this. Another trip to the ER, another endless night of waiting and worrying -- one interminable moment after another of begging, bargaining, and denying.
He was so damn sick of denying.
He'd hardly gotten to Vin, hardly had the chance to whisper his name and touch his face, when he was pulled away.
"Let 'em to do their job, Chris," Josiah said.
"I know the drill," he spat. Goddamn you, Vin, he thought. Couldn't Tanner just once lay low?
"He probably saved Mary's life." It was Buck this time, looking at Chris like that should make it all worth it.
"He did. I know he did. It was all my fault. He didn't want to leave me here."
Mary's voice trembled, but he was having trouble caring. She was right about it being her fault.
"Please, Mrs. Travis, there will be sufficient time to sort matters out later. Come with me now and allow the paramedics to examine you," Ezra said.
Chris knew he should have been the one to say that, the one to make sure Mary was taken care of. But he couldn't seem to move. He could hear Mary mumbling that she was fine; could feel her eyes watching him as he watched Vin, and he wished he could make himself behave the way he was expected to.
"Uh, guys, we have t' get out of here," JD's voice rose up among the noise and confusion. "Kauffman's getting real pissed off."
Chris wondered why JD thought that would matter to him in the least, but since Vin was already being loaded up on a stretcher and carried out, he complied with the demand. As he left the building, he noticed two body bags and two more stretchers being carried in. Apparently Mary was the only one to walk away unscathed.
"It's not serious, Chris," Nathan said, as he moved up to walk beside him. "Looks like the bullet just skimmed his side. He probably passed out more from exhaustion than blood loss. He'll be fine."
It was never that simple with Vin, and he was about to argue the point when Nathan made the case for him. "Of course, it looks like he got beat up a bit. Could be a concussion . . ." Nathan trailed off as he ran after the paramedics, probably to fill them in on Vin's penchant for doing everything the hard way.
Mary's voice drifted to him then from somewhere amidst the tangle of bystanders and police officers. "I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm fine."
Her stubbornness grated on nerves worn raw hours ago. "God damn it, Mary, just do what you're told," Chris growled as he approached her.
He immediately regretted it when he saw the pain in her eyes. She had to be exhausted and she probably didn't deserve his wrath. But as he watched the ambulance pull away with Vin lying inside, he changed his mind."What the hell where you thinking?" he asked her, though his words were clearly more of an accusation than a question.
"Chris, this isn't the time," Josiah warned.
But Mary was indignant now and her nostrils flared when she replied, "I was just doing my job! And for your information, I didn't ask Vin to come here with me. In fact, I tried to get him to leave. And I sure didn't ask him to jump in front of lead bullets or steel fists to protect me!"
"You didn't have to ask," Chris said coldly. 'Vin couldn't have done anything less -- and you know that."
"What I know is that I'm sorrier than I can ever say that he got hurt on my account. But it wasn't intentional. We're all human, Chris, and sometimes we hurt each other, whether we mean to or not."
She was obviously even smarter than he'd given her credit for, and he flinched as he turned away. Somehow she knew that he'd deceived her -- probably long before he'd figured it out himself. And while she may have been guilty of foolishly putting her job over her welfare, he now knew that he was guilty of far worse.
He softened his tone. "You need to be checked out. I'll drive you to the hospital."
"I said I'm fine. I didn't do anything except sit on the floor all night."
"Well apparently Vin did a little more than that. So if you won't go for yourself and you won't go for me, go for him. He'll need to see for himself that you're fine."
Her nod was reluctant, but she followed him to his car and climbed inside. Kauffman leaned in his car window before he could pull away and said he needed a statement from Mary, especially since she appeared to be the only one that would be able to do any talking for awhile. Chris told him to send someone over to the ER to talk to her, and he took off.
They all thought he was playing the role of the concerned boyfriend, he knew that, and he used it to his advantage. Mary truly wasn't hurt, but Vin was, and he'd say or do whatever it took to get to him as quickly as possible. What was one more misperception?
The yellow light from the street lamps flickered across Mary's face as they drove through the city, and Chris thought he'd never seen her look so uncertain. He wondered if she had been this uncomfortable with armed gunmen holding her hostage. Probably not, he thought with a ghost of a smile. She probably annoyed the heck out of her captors with her strong, stubborn pride -- maybe she'd even taken notes for her next story. He'd have to ask Vin about that later.
The image of Vin slumped against the wall reminded him all too quickly where they were headed and why, and he couldn't suppress a deep sigh.
"This isn't going to work, is it?" Mary asked softly.
"What?" he asked, turning his head to meet her eyes.
But she was looking out the window, and she didn't turn towards him when she spoke again. "Us. We're not going to work."
He sighed again. "This is hardly the best time to have this discussion."
"Actually, it's the perfect time," she said.
"Mary, you're exhausted and I'm-"
"Who were you thinking of, Chris? When you got the call that Vin and I were in trouble? When you stood in the street and waited? When you heard the sounds of gunfire and breaking glass? Which one of us were you thinking of?"
It wasn't that simple. And it wasn't fair. His panicked thoughts during a crisis shouldn't be held up as the example, as the answer, as the truth.
Or should they?
His silence stretched too long, and he heard her suck in a sob beside him. Reaching for her hand, he gently squeezed her fingers and whispered, "I'm so sorry."
"I know," she breathed. "That's the worst of it. I can't even be angry with you."
They rode the remainder of the way in silence. Chris felt there was more to be said, but maybe it was better that neither of them had the energy to say it.
Soon after arriving at the ER, Mary was pronounced as fit as she insisted she was from the start. Shortly after, two officers arrived to get her statement. Chris remained at her side as she gave her account of the evening's events. In spite of their earlier conversation, he didn't feel right leaving her to fend for herself.
The other members of the team had arrived by then, and Chris could feel their curious eyes on him and Mary when the interrogation finally ended and they returned to the waiting room. His men had witnessed his anger with Mary and observed his worry for Vin, but he knew they had no clue about the true underlying reason for those emotions.
How would they feel if they knew that when it came down to it, if only one hostage could be spared, he'd prayed it would be Vin? What would they think? He hardly knew what to think himself. It was wrong in every way. Mary was an innocent, single mother . . . and yet, Chris couldn't imagine facing another day without Vin at his side.
How would his men handle that? How would Vin handle it?
Ezra was the first to speak as they approached; he quickly offered to take Mary home, but she refused, stating she wanted to see Vin first. Even though Chris had initially agreed that she needed to see Vin, the tension between them was becoming uncomfortable. He was about to argue that she needed to go home and sleep, when the doctor entered the waiting room. It took the man less than a minute to say that Vin had been stitched up, and they were awaiting the results of x-rays. But by all indications, Vin would be released after twenty-four hours of observation.
Chris instructed the rest of his men to go on home as they were due in at work in just a few hours. They briefly told him to give Vin their good wishes, and they took off.
Only Ezra remained. "I assume you'll want to stay here with Vin?" he asked Chris.
There was something there, in Ezra's eyes, but Chris was too tired and too relieved to give it much consideration. "Yeah," he responded. "Does the offer stand to take Mary home?"
"Of course," Ezra answered.
Chris turned to Mary. "You still want to see Vin?"
"Just for a minute," she replied.
"Come on." A gentle touch to her arm softened the coarseness of his tone, and she nodded as she followed him to the curtained-off cubicle where Vin lay.
It might have been his imagination -- or wishful thinking -- but he could have sworn that Vin was disappointed when he saw the two of them enter together. But if it was so, Vin quickly stifled the emotion and offered them a weak smile, "Hey. You two alright?"
Chris was thinking Vin must have hit his head harder than they thought if he was asking about him. "I wasn't the one throwing myself in front of -- how did you put that, Mary?"
"Lead bullets and steel fists," Mary replied, managing to smile a bit in spite of her obvious unease.
Vin blushed and lowered his eyes. "I didn't do anything of the kind," he argued. "I just did what I had to t' keep you safe."
"I know." The waver in Mary's voice was probably only noticeable to those who knew her well, and it dawned on Chris that she was in a difficult situation, as well - indebted to the man who had come between her and her new love. But she rose above her mixed feelings long enough to add, "Thank you, Vin, for everything. Take care of yourself."
It was painfully apparent that she couldn't wait to get out of there. She turned and met Chris's eyes briefly before excusing herself and hurrying away.
Vin frowned. "What was that about?"
Chris pulled up a chair and sat beside Vin. "Nothing. Well . . . something, but . . . nothing we need to talk about now."
"Chris?"
He should have known that Vin wasn't drugged nearly enough to let that go. "We just figured out that we can't give each other what we really need," he replied. He watched Vin's eyes for a reaction, hoping for relief but seeing only confusion.
Almost without thinking, he reached over and rubbed his thumb across the tender skin of Vin's forearm. "The monster's awake, Vin," he said softly. "And it ain't goin' down easy."
Vin bit his lip and closed his eyes for a long moment. And when he finally opened them to look at Chris, he said the strangest thing. "Have you seen my legs lately?"
"What? Your legs? Well, no . . ."
"Mary's got great legs, Chris. I can't compete."
He thought he knew what Vin was trying to say, even if he had chosen a particularly odd way of saying it. "Mary's a beautiful woman, that's certain."
"She's a good woman, too."
"She is. But I don't love her."
"You could. In time."
"No. Not with my whole heart. Not the way she deserves. Not when I feel the way I do about you."
"You don't know how you feel about me," Vin whispered.
"Not entirely. But I need to find out -- and I think you need that, too." He took Vin's hands in his own and he asked him, "Which monster are you really afraid of Vin? The one in you or the one in me?"
"I figure they're equally dangerous. But it's the combination that really scares the shit out of me."
"Me, too. But I don't think we can ignore it any longer. I don't think we can lock it away and act like it doesn't exist."
"I can't do a one-night stand, Chris." Vin's face was pale and drawn as he spoke, and Chris wondered if he'd been fair approaching him at this time.
But the monster was raging, refusing to be denied any longer. Chris leaned forward and took Vin's face in his hands. "Neither can I," he replied.
It was stupid -- and dangerous -- kissing Vin like he did with only a flimsy curtain separating them from the rest of the world. Police officers and reporters hovered nearby, waiting for news on the criminals and the infamous alleged mobster. Nurses, doctors, x-ray technicians, anyone could have seen him softly, hesitantly taste Vin's lips.
And if Vin had been in his right mind, surely he would have pushed him away instead of latching on harder, pulling him closer, and forcing his tongue between his teeth.
It took Chris a few seconds to catch on; to realize that Vin was kissing him with all he had, like this could be the first and only time. Like he might change his mind . . .
He pulled back, and Vin groaned. "Easy, Vin," he soothed. "We've got time."
Vin blushed and nodded. "I just had t' take my chance while I had it. In case, you know, this ain't what you really want."
Chris claimed his mouth again, and to hell with caution. This time he made it perfectly clear to Vin exactly what he wanted and how badly he wanted it. He only let loose when it dawned on him that Vin's second groan might have come more from discomfort than desire.
"We'll settle this once we get you out of here," he promised.
Holding his gaze, Vin rasped in a low, sultry voice, "I'm holdin' you to that, Pard."
Unable to hide a hint of a smile, Chris gingerly picked up the thin sheet that covered Vin and peeked at his legs.
"You're right, Tanner," he teased. "You've got chicken legs ... hairy, chicken legs."
"Well, you can't hold a candle to Mary's legs, either."
"Maybe not. But I got other attributes," Chris quipped with a wicked grin.
Vin shook his head. "Hell, I've created a monster already."
Unable to resist, Chris kissed him once more. "Just think of the one we'll create together."
The End ....