ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

+17 months, 03.62 days fusion point

In the past, coming "home" to his and Chris' little room with its video monitor, computer workstation, actual shower, and comfortable bed had been the best part of his days. Even this past year and a half, without Chris, it had still held something that was a comfort to him, something that was still safe and warm, a refuge from war and work and the constant strain of this perverse new life. But coming back to it today filled him with a sickness in his gut that threatened to push his heart right up out of his throat.

Mary had promised him that they'd dialed down the drugs, and he talked to Chris enough to know that he was going through some sort of withdrawal - he looked like hell. But those conversations had been short and one-sided, more Chris talking, begging, really, than Buck asking anything. And Chris hadn't wanted to talk about how he felt physically, hadn't wanted to talk about anything that touched on what he had done with Vin.

Chris hadn't needed to. Buck had seen it, as much as he could stomach anyway.

Now, as he stood at his newer, bigger, better comm unit, Chris' code already on the screen, he knew what he'd see on the other side of the camera: his friend, his lover, worried, angry, but, like Buck, fully aware that there were no options. Make or break, Chris would say, their private code for backing each other to hell and back.

Only hell had never looked like this, this rich merger of pleasure and pain.

He hesitated, his finger on the send key, but he didn't punch in the code. For all that was between him and Chris, they weren't alone in this. And while they had danced around it, and did more talking about it in their avoidance of it, he had yet to even talk to Vin.

He needed to see the other man first, really see him, so he threw down his jacket and left the room, trying not to acknowledge any relief at the small delay. It wouldn't be long; transit to the complex was quick this time of night, and the officers at the gates knew him and his badge, letting him through quickly. From there, he turned down wide concrete corridors and badged himself through several more levels of security until he came to the oppressive office that housed the emergency medical teams. The walls were eight feet thick and reinforced with energy barriers, and still nobody was supposed to work more than three weeks in a row, special radiation detectors clipped to their lab coats turning slowly from black to red until they got rotated out and treated.

More people's badges were red these days, as they ran out of staff and equipment and the luxury of personal safety, but nobody complained.

"Hey, Tanya," Buck said, easing up behind one of the techs who had suited up fast and saved Vin's life, all those months ago. He'd been grateful, then, but with the image of Vin from just days ago still in his head, he wasn't so sure now. "I need to see Vin."

She smiled at him, but there was hesitation on her face. "Not Chris?" she asked.

"Not yet," he answered. "Haven't seen Vin in a while, heard he was having a harder time with this."

She looked away, but the gesture was telling; very few were supposed to know what was going on in there, but they all knew. The fact that they had to clear the entire floor when the energy levels spiked was a good indicator.

As of late, they were given advance warning to let them know that it was planned. Didn't take a rocket scientist to add the numbers and come up with something nobody wanted to think about.

She punched a keypad and he heard steel blast locks sliding free of a door at the far end of the room. "He's awake," she said, her eyes tired and sad. "He's... he's a lot better."

Tanya Reynolds and her team knew everything there was to know--more than Mary, more than Dr. Greer or Blackfox or Fowler himself, because they knew the men as well as the information. Tanya spent more time than she was supposed to sitting in a metal chair outside the clear wall in one corner of Vin's 'receiving room,' as Ezra had started calling it. She talked to him, helping him stay sane through most of it. Buck thought Vin might have developed a little crush on her at one point, and Buck couldn't blame him; she gave Vin a sense of normalcy that pretty much no one else in the universe could, talking about the rats, helping him name them, telling him about the progress with the reversal experiments and the war and her home in the fourth quadrant, where she had grown up, near that place where Vin had wanted to settle with Charlotte.

Buck squeezed her shoulder gently. "That's good. That's real good."

Her hand came up to cover his briefly, and he tried not to look at the graying beds of her fingernails. She was killing herself for this project by slow degrees, and he knew she knew it. If this war didn't end soon, if she didn't get weeks in treatment and decontamination, she'd be another one of the casualties.

It didn't make his own situation any easier, but it did give it a little more weight.

She let go and flicked a button. "Vin? You have company."

It took longer than Buck thought it should before Vin's disembodied voice wafted out of the speaker. "I got a choice?" he asked dully.

"Of course you do," Buck said before Tanya could. "It's just me, pard. I'd appreciate it if you could spare me a little time."

"Buck? Yeah... yeah, come on in."

Buck waited until the speaker light was off before he cursed. "That's better? He sounds like hell."

She nodded somberly. "It's a lot better. Most of the drugs have cleared his system, he's got his faculties back. He's feeding Eddie and Bob himself again, and he managed to keep down some solid food today."

That sick feeling intensified, but Buck didn't say anything, just went to the door and waited for it to swing silently open.

He stepped through and strode down the short hall to the clear barrier, putting both hands on it as he peered through. "Hey, pard," he said quietly.

Vin leaned against the wall in clear view, head down, hair hanging over his face, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. "Hey," Vin mumbled. "Didn't figure you'd have much need for talkin' to me."

He hadn't expected it to come out quite that fast and blunt, and it left him not quite knowing how to answer. Best just dive in, he figured, since it was too late to be playing any games. "Ain't like you had much say in it," he said. "Fowler had control of everything, shipped Travis and Greer out so he could do what he wanted, drugged you both into submission."

"Yeah, that's about the way of it," Vin said, and his head rolled heavily on his neck. "Mary wouldn't have stood for what--for what they did."

"Fowler? Or..."

Vin's body jerked like he'd been struck, but he shoved off the wall and walked toward his side of the glass, pushing his hair back off his face. "He doped Chris too," he said finally. "Had to. Buck, I wouldn't believe Chris could do the shit he did to me if he'd had his own mind. I can't believe that."

"You're right," Buck replied, feeling that sickness in him supplanted by a small sense of calm. It was true; Chris couldn't have. He knew that, but something in saying it, in hearing Vin say it, calmed some of his own torment. "And he can't do it now, Vin, not on his own."

Vin frowned at him. "So - you are gonna help him." The words were hollow but there was a little heat behind them. "You're gonna help him do this to me."

Buck studied him for a second then asked quietly, "Is there a choice here, Vin? You know what we're up against - what you and Chris are up against."

Vin shivered a little. "Yeah. I know."

"Then you know why I'm here," Buck said softly.

"Yep. Got to pretty me up for your partner," Vin said hollowly, "make me into something he might actually succeed in fucking this time."

"Then you don't know why I'm here," Buck said stubbornly, feeling a little of the anger burn. "Look me in the eye and tell me you think I came to see you just to make this easier on Chris."

Vin did look at him, and the range of emotions that played across that pretty face were many and varied. Mary hadn't lied to him, then; Vin had most of his own mind back. He was pissed too, and desperate, and despairing, but he was awake inside his own head, and Buck was grateful. Selfish too; this meant that Chris was better, more himself. Images of that last time still played through his mind, too horrible for him to accept.

Buck just stood there and withstood the scrutiny, and after a long moment Vin sighed. "Sorry," he said.

"Nothing to apologize for," he said, meaning it. "This sucks six ways from Sunday. Mary thinks half of Chris's, uh, performance trouble that last time came from the drugs Fowler had pumped into him, but Chris disagrees. He's tearing himself up over what he's doing to you and to me--now hold on," Buck said, holding up a hand to stay Vin's indrawn breath, "I'm not defending him. I'm telling you that even if he won't say it--and you know he probably won't, because he's an asshole and always was--he's gonna be sorrier than hell about what he's done, hell, probably already is. And sorry about what he has to do. And that sorry is gonna make things harder, 'cause it's making him angry, so we have to get past it. I have to get him past it." He watched as Vin mulled the words over. "You hold onto that, okay, Vin? Hold on to your friends, like me and like the rest of the boys, and Chris too, because it's the only thing that's gonna see you through this, especially after it."

Vin let his breath out on a sigh, and Buck wondered how to go on, how stable Vin really was with fewer of the meds in him. They'd all been to see Vin as often as they could since the accident, Josiah, JD, Ezra and Nathan more because Buck had "obligations" to fulfill with Chris in what little time he'd had. But he knew how hard this had been for Vin even before the sex and the drugs. It had gotten so much worse since then.

"I ever tell you my mother was a prostitute?" he asked, thinking to ease Vin into what really needed saying.

Vin's eyebrows rose but he said nothing, which was answer enough for Buck.

"She didn't much like the work but she was good at it, and she hadn't been trained for much else. She did it for the money, because she had a sick sister who needed expensive treatment, and because she cared more about being able to spend time with my cousins and me than she cared about 'respectability'. It wasn't easy on her, especially at first. But Vin..." he sighed, remembering. "She learned something, and she taught me something about people, men and women.

"What she did, she did to put food on the table and keep my aunt's medical bills paid up. She wasn't saving the whole planet."

"That s'posed to make me feel better, Buck?" he asked, his lip curling a little. "She still had a choice."

Buck nodded. "I was hoping it would, yeah. Because you have a choice too, Vin."

Vin frowned, his wide forehead lining with confusion. "Don't look like it from in here."

"I reckon that's because you don't want to see it. I reckon you think it's easier to blame everybody for the shit we're all in, and not make that choice. But, Vin, I've gotta tell you, I never met a hooker who didn't choose to make it work who had any kind of happiness in her soul. And I knew plenty who did choose, and were plenty happy." He paused, thinking it through. Wondering what else this was going to cost him, and Vin too.

"You choose, Vin. At the very least, you choose what you've got, and maybe this'll go easier for you."

"Choose what I've got?" Vin spat. "What I've got is a pretty prison and monitors in all three of its rooms. What I've got is a best friend who's brought me off more times than I want to think about against my will and is planning on doing it again for the greater good - only this time, it ain't enough to let him jerk my dick, this time I gotta let him fuck me. What I've got is a fucking rapist for a cellmate and a body that belongs more to him than to me!"

His voice had gotten louder with each word until the last were yelled, screamed loud and hard enough that the words themselves distorted with rage.

Buck wanted to tell Vin what a shitpile his own life had become, what he and Chris had become, but if there had ever been a worse time for self-indulgence, he couldn't imagine it. "Yeah," he said, still quiet. "That's what you've got. You've got a fucked-up body that holds the key to saving billions of people, and a best friend who's as manipulated and messed up as you are. What you've got is a friend standing right in front of you who's sacrificed things he never could have imagined. What you've got is four more friends who will do whatever they can, and a team of doctors and scientists doing their damnedest under impossible circumstances to get you out of this box you're in." His own voice had started to rise, and Buck stopped, sucked in a breath, that sick feeling rising again in him.

"What you've got," he said after a moment, "is a man who loves Chris Larabee so much that he's carved out survival in a cell of his own and a TV monitor and jerk-off sessions, where the last thing we had left for each other is really all about producing power for the war effort. You've got two friends who have whored everything that means anything to them, and who don't have much left." The tears had started to well up as soon as Buck had mentioned Chris's name, but Buck hadn't looked away. They spilled over now, hot and scalding on his skin, but at least he could see Vin clearly again. "What you've got," he said, coughing to clear his throat, "is a friend who's about to go into a room and watch the man he loves fuck another guy, someone else he cares a whole hell of a lot about."

The sickness in his gut clenched down hard, cramping something inside him, but Buck plowed on. If he was going to puke, his stomach had better have the decency to wait until he got outside, or at least far enough down the hall that Vin wouldn't have to see it.

If he failed, well... they'd all fail. Everything would.

"Choose that, Vin. Choose what you've got, because it's a little bit better than what you've been pretending you have. The right to say 'no' ain't never been a choice, so you got to let it go."

"You been talking to Fowler?" Vin asked then, his voice tightly controlled.

"What? No." The question was so unexpected that he was thrown.

"Huh. 'Cause he said something like what you're saying now." The tightness started slipping, an animal noise working its way out with the words. "He said I ought to just suck it up and take the one pleasure I've got left in here... letting some man, any man touch me, make me... bring me off... do the things--"

He wasn't prepared for the hand that slammed into the barrier on Vin's side of it, or for the noise that climbed up out of Vin's throat. He wasn't prepared for the way Vin crumpled to his knees, hands still pressed against the glass, or the sobs that tore out of him. He wasn't prepared, but he acted, dropping to his side of the wall and pressing his palms hard against Vin's, crying harder now than he could remember crying since he'd thought Chris and Vin had died in that blast.

"I'm losing myself, Buck," Vin choked out. "I don't know who I am any more. It's all mixed up in my head, getting worse now 'stead of better, like I don't know what I want, what I feel . . ."

"It sucks," Buck heard himself saying, over and over again. And it did.

Soon enough that blast of feeling washed out of them, leaving Vin small and shaking on one side of the wall and Buck dead inside on the other.

His hands started to tingle, just like they did when he and Chris had done this for more than a minute, but he held them there, not really caring anymore. Soon enough though, Vin pulled himself together and jerked his hands away from the barrier like he was the one getting burned. "I--?" Vin looked to Buck's hands wildly, checking him for damage.

Something in Buck eased again then, seeing Vin's concern for him, knowing that Vin was aware enough to realize his surroundings.

"It wasn't that long, don't worry," Buck said, sniffing. He dropped to his butt on the floor and then, after a second, to his back. They were all so fucking tired.

"I'm gonna go grab a shower," Vin said slowly, "get cleaned up. Give me half an hour before you call us, okay?"

Buck turned his head to look at Vin, saw a little of the man's old determination, and nodded. Maybe this was just what both he and Vin needed, a chance to set it straight in their heads and wallow for a minute. A luxury.

Vin's brows furrowed though, and he asked, "Choose what you've got, huh?"

Buck nodded, wondering how much a fool he was. "Best way through it."

"Have you seen any of the video?"

"What video?" he asked stupidly, even though he knew what Vin was asking.

"Of... of Chris and me. Of when we..."

Buck's gut roiled again. "Yeah. The first two. The last one."

Vin nodded, resolute even though snot and tears shone gold on his face. "It don't mean nothing, Buck," Vin said, his voice hard-edged for the first time in weeks. "You hold onto that, okay? It don't mean nothing."

Buck thought he knew what Vin was saying, but he wasn't sure. So he just said, "Yeah it does, Vin. He's your friend, you're my friend, and it's gonna save all of us. It means everything."

Vin's eyes were tired and sad. "Yeah, save us all," he murmured. He shook his head and sighed, pushing himself up.

Something he'd said came to Buck's mind, a sort of reassurance he hadn't thought of. "Vin?"

Vin turned back as Buck got to his own feet.

"I'm helping to make it easier for both of you. 'Cause Chris needs me, or so he says. If I make it easier for him, then he might not need to do nothing more than touch you."

He watched the play of emotion over Vin's face, relief the strongest but something else, that thing he had talked to Mary about. That sense that Vin was coming to care for Chris, want more, than Vin himself was ready to accept.

"Thanks," Vin nodded. "Hope you're right."

But some little part of him hoped Buck was wrong, and Buck saw it in his eyes. The knowledge of that made him both jealous and worried.

Buck started toward the doors, but paused to straighten himself up. Not that it mattered; Tanya looked at him sadly as he came through, her eyes soft and warm.

"I tried not to listen, Buck," she announced, coming around the counter to slip an arm around him. "But when he started yelling, the energy spiked a little and - "

"I know," Buck let his own arm settle around her. "Guess you heard more than you wanted to."

"You're right, the whole thing sucks," she agreed. "For all of you." She stretched up, kissing him on the cheek, and he let her. It was nice just to have that warm body against him, different from the warm bodies he had played with several days ago, the warm bodies he hadn't been able to bring himself to hold. Hers, he could, because he knew it wasn't going any farther.

The tears were building again, but he fought them this time; he had things he had to do now, two other people he really had to be helping.

Slowly, he eased her away. "You on all night?" he asked, squeezing her shoulders as he gently moved her away.

"Yeah," she sighed, "my turn to see the floorshow." She colored a little as soon as the word left her mouth, and he realized that this was a new jargon word, that the techs had given a name to the times that Chris and Vin got up to what they got up to.

Given his own role in this, it seemed far more apt than he'd expected. Despite himself, he grinned at her. "Should be something to see, at least the light show."

She tried not to grin but she couldn't help herself. "It's right pretty, yeah."

"When this is over tonight, I want you to check on Vin for me." He was asking, even though it came out as a sort of command. "He's scared and he's got a right to be."

She nodded. "I know. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to . . ." She shook her head, but followed it with, "I can't imagine what it's gonna be like for you, either, Buck. You're a good man, not to have walked away from all of this."

He smiled again, but looked away. "You keep an eye on Vin. He's probably gonna need some kind words."

"You want to see Chris?" she asked, reluctantly breaking their connection to head back around the counter to the controls.

He shook his head. "Not right now." He was gonna see as much of Chris as he could stand in just a few minutes, but there was no need to tell her that.

He took his time getting back to the room, as much for Vin as for himself. He wasn't surprised that none of the rest of the team was there; they all knew that it was coming, Mary had probably put out some polite innuendo about it and Ezra had picked up on it - and he was here alone.

Hopefully some of them were with JD.

He walked into the room, stopping inside the doorway to stare at the big screen mounted on the wall above his desk. He'd wanted it initially, requested it every chance he could, a monitor that would let him see Chris full-body.

With the irony that he was coming to despise, he'd gotten the large-screen just in time to see Chris in bed with someone else, both of them in all their glory. Goddammit.

He sighed, shrugging out of his jacket, then his shirt. His shoes were next, but he moved to the bed to take them off and found that he couldn't sit down, not yet.

A quick shower, he thought, but he knew he was stalling and he knew he needed to talk to Chris before they brought Vin in. And he knew how nervous Vin would be. A virgin on her wedding night, he thought, but there was no wedding-bliss in this, no pretty words or ceremony or anything.

He shook his head but walked to the desk, keying the address before he had time to think of a reason not to.

Chris answered so fast that Buck knew he had been waiting.

The green eyes were clear and bright, and holding more need than Buck had seen in a long time. Enough need, enough want, to take his breath.

"Buck," Chris said, but it came out as a hiss, and low and throaty, full of promise. Against all the odds Buck would have put on this, it stirred the fires of his own desire just a little, taking some of the edge off this. "God, have I missed you."

"Yeah," he agreed, surprised his own voice was so deep. "How you doing?"

Chris shook his head. "Missing the hell out of you," he answered. "Didn't realize how hard it'd be, not being with you. Even as little as this, what little we got right now."

"Yeah," Buck heard himself agree again, wondering when his vocabulary had become so limited.

"You look good," Chris said, and Buck could almost feel the eyes on him. "Real good."

"'Course I do," Buck said automatically. "Hard for me to look any other way." But he was doing his own looking, staring hard at the golden shimmers he had come to love.

"How's your head?" Chris asked, and it took Buck a few seconds to realize that the question wasn't about his attitude but about the actual injury.

"Still itches a little but it's coming along - I'm feeling a little underdressed here."

Chris smiled a little, then easily pulled his shirt off, the movement clean and graceful. "I been worried about that leg wound - guess I get to finally see it, huh."

Buck chuckled, but he was paying more attention to drinking in the sight of his lover. Chris had lost a little more weight, his ribs more prominent than Buck liked. He also seemed paler, the lack of color not so obvious on its own but indicated by the intensity of the glittering.

But seeing him did all those things to Buck that made him forget, for a few seconds, what was going to happen here. Made him realize that this was why he hadn't been able to do anything with those willing bodies who'd offered themselves to him so recently,

It must've worked for Chris as well, because he tore his eyes away from Buck's bare chest long enough to meet his eyes. "Wish it were you," he said, and while the words were familiar, the sentiment shared, the depth of it was stronger than ever before.

"Me too," he murmured, reaching out without thinking to the face on the screen.

"Show me," Chris said, one of his hands teasing down his own chest to his belly, the lower, cupping his rising erection. "Let me see you, Buck."

It was habit but also desperation. Watching Chris watching him was a form of solace, to see the heat in the eyes of the man he loved was confirmation that no matter what had happened previously, what was going to happen later, Chris was still his. And he was still Chris'.

They were both naked, but aroused, falling into the patterns they had developed that needed no thought but brought maximum pleasure. Buck watched Chris' hand moving, mirrored it with his own, when the unwelcome thought intruded that they were getting too close, too soon.

Perhaps thinking it himself, or seeing it in Buck's face, Chris groaned, low and long, but slowed. "Damn," he whispered.

Buck nodded. "Get him, Chris, before it's too late."

"His room," Chris sighed, and reluctantly let go of his leaking cock. "I'll code you when I get there, and get him."

Buck nodded, watching as Chris turned away from the camera, watching the flex of his muscular ass as he walked away, thinking about what it had been like to hold those globes of flesh, to spread them to find the secret place within, to bury himself in the other man.

He closed his eyes even as he moved to break the connection, but as he heard the doors slide apart he was startled to hear Chris' voice, annoyed.

"What the hell - "

He opened his eyes in time to see Vin just barely visible past Chris. "Decided I didn't want to wait around for you to show up," Vin rasped. "You want to do this, we can do it in your room this time."

Buck smiled, knowing that some part of what he had told Vin had gotten through. Vin didn't have a lot of control in this situation, but he was taking what he could. If nothing else, he'd have a little more sanctuary in his own rooms, not being reminded of this every time he looked at the bed or the pillow or the desk.

Chris' shoulders straightened, and Buck realized that his lover didn't like this side of Vin - but then, Chris wasn't going to like any of this.

"Come on in, Vin," he called, catching those blue eyes. "Party's just getting started."

Vin's eyes widened, reminding Buck of his own nakedness. For an instant, he thought he should be embarrassed. But he had seen Vin naked, several times now, and it was only fair, given what was about to happen, that Vin have a little something to equalize this.

"Seems like it's going along just fine," Vin said, trying to keep it light, Buck knew. But his voice cracked a little, the unease catching up.

Chris reached out, catching Vin by the arm and pulling him forward enough for the door to close.

The contact was rough, Buck could see the shimmering outline of Chris' fingers on Vin's skin, but it had its usual side effect as well; Vin's eyes started to dilate and he inhaled sharply.

Part of Buck wanted to look away, remembering the videos and what usually came next; he didn't want to see Chris' mouth on Vin, biting and marking, didn't want to see the play of his lover's hands on the other man's body. Didn't want to see Vin trying and failing to put those hands elsewhere.

This time, though, it was different; Chris didn't pull Vin in close, didn't try to touch. As soon as the doors closed, he let go of Vin and stepped back and away.

Buck wasn't the only one surprised; Vin leaned in close, only to find himself alone, swaying slightly as Chris turned back to the camera, his back to Vin.

Something passed over Vin's face, but Buck didn't have time to study it.

He didn't want to.

His attention was on his lover, Chris' words colder with the loss of some of his own passion.

"Don't know how to do this," he said, "want to see you, Buck, want you, but it ain't your dick I'll be touching. Tell me what to do."

Behind him, Vin's eyes were closed and he had stepped back. Buck tried not to see him, but it was hard.

"Ain't many ways to do this," he said quietly, concentrating on Chris. "You got to touch him, Chris, gotta keep the current going."

"I know," Chris whispered, stepping closer to the camera. "Just feels so wrong."

"I'm sorry to be so inconvenient," Vin said calmly, but there was a hint of annoyance to it.

Chris closed his eyes, frustrated Buck knew, but he held his temper as he said, "Don't go getting all sensitive on us. Ain't like you want this either, so don't take it personal." He opened his eyes as his fingers touched his monitor, touching where Buck's face probably was for him.

Buck swallowed, wishing he could feel the fingers that were touching the other monitor. "Vin?" he called instead, holding Chris' eyes. "How 'bout you strip down?"

"Don't want to see him, Buck," Chris whispered, his voice tired. "Don't want you to . . . "

"I already have," Buck said slowly. Behind Chris, Vin made a little noise, and Buck couldn't quite tell what it was, but he didn't have time to worry on it. "It's all right, he ain't got nothing I ain't seen before."

"That ain't the point," Chris sighed, straightening up. He met Buck's eyes, his own sad, then turned quickly and Vin was in the frame.

His hands were on the bottom of his shirt, his eyes on Chris, frowning at the sudden attention. "What?" he asked, arching one eyebrow. He seemed sure enough, but Buck saw the way he gripped the cloth, his hands knotted into fists. Vin was choosing, but he was scared, and the thought came back to Buck that this was no different from a virgin on her wedding night.

Chris took a breath, but it was stuttered, and Buck knew he was fighting some internal battle for control. When the words came, they were measured and even, a sign that he was working hard to find a line between being honest and angering Vin.

"Don't need you to show everything - don't think it'll help me." Slowly, he caught Vin's wrists, pulling them away from the fabric and tweaking the compulsion between them. "Don't need to take that off to do what we need. All you gotta do is drop your pants and bend over the bed."

The words were soft, but Buck recoiled almost as much as Vin did.

"Fuck you," Vin spat, but even as he said it, Chris stepped in closer, his hands still holding onto Vin.

"All I gotta do is touch you, ain't that right?" he asked, still keeping his voice soft, like he was gentling a horse. His hands rose, closing on Vin's upper arms, tiny sparks pinging into the air around them. "You're harder than I am already, and you don't even want this."

"Chris," Buck called, worried about where this was going, worried about how quickly Vin was losing his will. He'd seen it in the videos, but here, in front of him, it was worse, as if the person he knew was simply leaking away before his eyes.

For a second, he thought Chris was going to ignore him. But with an effort, he let Vin go and turned back.

"Ain't no need to rush this," Buck said before Chris could speak. "You wanted me here to make this easier, for both of you. I ain't gonna be the excuse for you to do more than you have to."

"Hate for you to have to see this," Chris said, quietly. "Don't want you to - "

"You stop worrying about me," Buck interrupted. "Let's worry 'bout getting this done and getting it done right. Now, be best if you two could just touch each other, like you been doing - "

"Ain't you," Chris said, his voice soft and desperate. "I want to see you, Buck, want to pretend it's you with me."

"I know," he answered, his own desperation slipping past his resolve. "So let's pretend." He paused, trying to think only about what they had to do, not about what he wanted or Chris wanted or even Vin. Especially Vin, who was looking at Chris with his own desperation. "Vin?" he said, "how about you go ahead and take your pants off and lay down on the bed."

Chris closed his eyes, his head dropping, but he didn't argue. He also didn't look at Vin, and neither did Buck. Instead, he pitched his voice low, knowing that Vin could hear it, but more interested in what Chris heard. "Look at me, Chris, look at me. Ain't no one else here but the two of us right now. Think about what we were doing just a few minutes ago."

Chris slowly looked back up, his expression wary.

"Just the two of us," Buck said again, ignoring the movement in the background as Vin pushed his pants down and stepped out of them, his erection willing even as his hands trembled. "I'm touching you, Chris, my hand pulling on your cock just the way you like it, slow and easy, twisting a little at the head, pressing on the spot you like me to tease."

Chris' breath caught, and Buck saw the desire rekindling, golden flames in the green eyes. "Love to taste that spot, the tip of my tongue flicking over it fast, your drippings smearing my lips. Love to have you in my mouth, sliding deep into my throat, filling me up."

Chris swallowed, his hand drifting lower, back to his cock. Buck did the same, grateful that it was working not just for Chris but for him; everything he was saying was true, and for now, as real to him as anything could be.

Except that Vin was still standing there, uncertain, and distracting, his eyes moving from Buck to Chris and back. There was reservation in his gaze, as Buck had expected, but there was curiosity as well, the sort people had about things they didn't understand. Buck had seen it enough growing up, the twin elements of disdain for his mother and intrigue at her profession.

Vin wore that look now, as if this were something he wasn't involved in.

But it was, and the sooner he got involved, the better for them all.

Buck held his irritation, trying to keep his voice as seductive and warm as it had been. "Lay down, Vin, lay down and close your eyes, think about getting sucked on."

Chris started to turn, but Buck caught him. "Chris, you know how much I love going down on you, taking as much as I can 'til my chin's resting on your balls and my nose is bumping into your belly - love them little sounds you make, whimpering and whining, begging me to move, to let that hard shaft slide in and out of my lips, my tongue working you for everything."

Chris did make a little sound then, sort of like a whimper, and Buck went on. "All the while, I'm letting my hands move on you, your ass hot and tight, but spreading so pretty for me, letting me slip my fingers right on down to find your hole - always so tight, grabbing at me, wanting me."

It was a distinct whimper now, and he knew he had Chris hooked. "Almost too tight, Chris, always gotta be easy with you, don't want to hurt you - you never hurt me, not when you know how much better it is when I'm begging for you. Remember? Remember how good it is when I'm stretched wide, your fingers finding my sweet spot, making me beg?"

Chris erection was standing tall and ready, clear droplets oozing over the crown. Just like Buck's own. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see what he had to do next.

"Get on the bed, Chris," he said, working himself as the distraction. "Be easy with me, gentle, like you were that first time - remember that first time?"

Buck did, that first frustrating, agonizing time, when Chris had treated him like spun glass and he'd lost his erection twice because it was taking too long.

Unlike Vin, he'd had male lovers before, and even though it had been a while, and he was tight, he didn't need the care and tenderness Chris had insisted on. Not that it hadn't been worth it; eventually, it always was with Chris.

He heard Chris moving, heard the shifting of the bed, heard - something, words that were short. He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to see, but he knew he had to.

Vin was on his back, staring up at Chris with those impossibly wide, bright eyes, and Chris - Chris was staring at Buck.

Buck held that gaze, refusing to look away even as he said the words he hated. "Touch me, Chris, just like you did then. Take my cock in your hand - "

"Ain't yours," Vin said, and Buck wondered why they hadn't gagged him.

But he was right, and they needed to include him in this, because it wasn't right not to.

"Shut up," Chris growled, and Buck saw Vin wince, surprised, when Chris' hand closed on his erection.

He didn't want to see this, didn't want to see Chris touching that slender, alien shaft with the pale pink head that sparkled silver as it was pulled. Didn't want to see Vin's hips rise, his almost-hairless groin, bare from the transfusions months ago, answering so easily to Chris' touch.

Didn't want to see Vin's hands grabbing at the bedclothes, didn't want to hear his soft voice carrying Chris' name, the sound a mixture of warning and wonder.

"That's it," Buck encouraged, just looking at Chris, watching the way he watched back, his hand moving, his tongue touching his lips.

The thought came then, partly on his own need, partly on memory. "I remember you sucking me, Chris. So hard against my leg or in my hand, so wet and good on my cock. I want you to suck me. Suck Vin, and pretend it's me, and Vin can pretend it's that pretty Tanya and I can pretend it's your mouth on me. We can all live with that, Chris. All of us."

For a second, Chris was horrified, the repugnance clear in the arch of his eyebrows and the thinning of his lips.

"Be easiest for me," Buck whispered, not caring at all that he was manipulating his partner with those words. "I can see it, Chris, see you, think of you going down on me the way you used to. I miss that, let me see it now, remember it." Unconsciously, his hand was stroking at his own cock, working it back to desire.

Chris saw it though, his gaze dropping, his tongue slipping back out for an instant. "Yeah," he agreed, the sound throaty, "yeah."

He switched hands, his right, dominant, going to his own cock. Vin whined at the change, panting heavily, but Buck ignored him, watching Chris fist himself. The gold hue around him deepened, his desire building and evident.

Buck's own matched it. "Suck me, Chris," he whispered, "Remind me what it's like."

Chris growled, low in the back of his throat, but he bent down to let his tongue swipe across the slick head of Vin's cock.

Vin cried out at the contact, the sound cutting through Buck's control. For a bare instant, he hated the other man, hated him for being there with Chris, hated him for feeling this pleasure that was Buck's by right and by choice, hated him for making his presence known.

But Chris either hadn't heard or didn't care, the sound not distracting him at all. He was licking at the straining cock, long slow laps that tasted and teased and made Buck hurt with the thought of it on his. He took some small pleasure in the fact that Vin was not as big as Buck himself was, and he had a certain hope that he didn't taste as good either. It was a cheap shot, but right now, envious and jealous and hating Vin, it was one he would allow himself.

Chris was gonna find out soon, though, if the noise Vin was making was any indication. He was moaning, keening almost, the sound cutting off in a ringing silence when Chris' lips closed around his head and sucked him in.

Buck picked it up though, unable to stop his own moan at the sight of Chris' mouth taking in the hard flesh, his cheeks hollowing as Buck had fantasized too many times in the past year. His left hand had moved from the base of Vin's cock to his hip, holding him down and still. It was an effort, Vin twisting with the need for more contact. At one point, his hand caught in Chris hair, and Chris pulled completely away, grimacing at the pull.

Vin whimpered at the loss of contact, but he was a quick learner, and his hand fell quickly away from Chris, to wrap back into the sheets.

He was close, pulsing almost with the need for release. Buck had seen it in the videos, the building of the connection between them, the intensifying of the current. Chris, though, was slower, not as fast or as bright as Vin.

"You do that so good, Chris," he said, closing his eyes to catch the image in his head. "Take all of me, suck me down."

Chris didn't say anything, but the keening started again, and Buck held onto the memory of how Chris had looked the last time he had done this, looking up at Buck from where he knelt on the floor, his eyes flaring with heat of this, sucking and tonguing and laughing deep in his throat.

Of his own hands carding through Chris' hair, shorter then, his fingers tracing the shell of those perfect ears, then down over the sharp bones of his jaw.

"God, Chris," he moaned, and his had gripped more, sliding along his shaft, picking up the speed.

Chris made a noise himself, that deep vibrating sound that Buck knew, that at this instant, he thought he felt. He jerked, his own orgasm building. Even with his eyes closed, he knew Chris was getting close as well, the light from the other room penetrating his eyelids, strobing with the gathering release.

"You're too good at this," he murmured, lost in the idea of being with Chris, "always have been, so good, knowing what I like, touching me, touching yourself. Gonna come, it's getting close - " Too close, the thought of Chris swallowing around his throbbing head sending him past his control.

He arched, strands of come rising to his chest, splattering like hard rain over his skin. His climax came in deep waves that rushed up through him, as if Chris really were on him, drawing everything he had up and out.

He was vaguely aware of Vin crying out, of Chris' own groan, then the sharp white-noise of the signal distorting. But he let himself ride through his own pleasure, let himself have this little time and space to be happy and whole and with Chris. Alone.

"Buck?"

He grunted, forcing himself back to awareness. The screen was slowly resolving itself to an image, Chris looking up, for him. He was licking at his hand, and Buck was envious, wanting to taste the flavor of his lover, wanting that shimmer on his own lips.

But the glow on Chris' flesh wasn't just from Chris, he reminded himself, and with an effort, he forced himself to look at the man Chris had just brought to release.

Vin was unmoving on the bed, his eye closed, his body lax and heavy. He seemed really out of it, and Buck remembered Mary's comment about Vin not being out of the withdrawal yet.

But there was a faint smile on his face, and why not? He'd just had one of the best blowjobs a man could ask for. Buck knew; he'd taught Chris himself.

"Buck?" Chris repeated, unwinding himself and pushing up. He staggered a little, weak and unsteady in the aftermath, but he moved in closer, blocking Buck's view of Vin. "Miss you," he rushed, "but this - this was good, as good as we can have for now. Ain't the same - but I could almost believe it was you. Almost."

Almost.

He wondered if Vin thought so too, that it was almost as good as - what? Charlotte?

He knew, though, that it really wasn't an 'almost' for Vin. Chris had given Vin something that Vin would want again, and that Chris could give him again. For a while, this would be enough for them - and for Fowler.

"Buck?" There was a grate of anxiety in Chris' voice and Buck shook his head.

"Miss you, too," he said, the words heavy on his tongue. "Miss you more than I can . . . "

"Don't," Chris sighed, "it's all right, it'll be all right."

How odd that Chris was the strong one now, but that had been the nature of their relationship from the start, even before Sarah. Now it was Chris' turn to take the weight of it, to will the reality to work.

"Want it to be me," Buck said, his voice choked off. "Should be me, not him."

"It will be again," Chris murmured. "Has to be."

Buck nodded, swiping at one cheek with the back of his hand. It was only as he felt the smear of stickiness that he remembered what was on that hand, but right now he didn't care. "Gotta go," he muttered, "gotta think."

"Buck," Chris said more urgently, "don't think too much. It ain't nothing, he ain't nothing compared to you. You're the one I want. You gotta believe that."

The hell of it was that he did believe it, and it only made it harder. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'll check in later."

Before Chris could say anything else, he cut the connection and powered down the unit, locking out any incoming calls. Then he rolled onto his side, alone in the bed that had been theirs, and cried more tears than he thought he could possibly have.

+17 months, 03.97 days fusion point

The bar was small and crowded, one of the few places still open, and one of the places the team had frequented back when they were a still a team. Now, it was Ezra and Josiah; they'd left JD and Nathan at the hospital, things quiet for the moment, but it was too early to head back to their unit.

They all knew what was happening tonight, Buck's stress more telling than his oblique references to needing some privacy tonight. Nathan's confirmation came through Mary, another suggestion that Buck would need space.

So Josiah and Ezra had found themselves here, an old familiar haunt giving the illusion of old security and a time when things had been far simpler. Like most places, this one was conserving the limited energy, candles and oil lanterns creating a soft ambiance that was actually pleasant, and live musicians played softly in one corner, strings and flutes merging in a mix of different styles that mostly didn't bother Ezra too much. But he had been pleased to find a small table on the patio, far enough away that his patience wasn't tested overmuch.

"Nice night," Josiah said, settling in beside him. "Funny how you can see the stars without so many lights on."

The city lay before them, sprawling out into the open flatland of the desert, but it was mostly a dark jumble of shapes and shadows, lit only by the soft twinkles of lights much like their own here. Across the valley, on the rise facing them, even their own complex was dark, just the soft lights of the fencing and security gates outlining the crest of the butte. Unlike the city, the complex was active, a center for military intelligence which never stopped, but the windows were covered so that no light escaped to attract attention.

Except for the very faint glow on the top of the complex, 'the box'. Even here, clicks away, Ezra could see the faint shimmer in the air that came from his former team mates.

"Indeed," Ezra agreed, sipping his whiskey. "The stars."

Josiah sighed, and Ezra shook his head. That sat in silence, listening to the stream of conversation around them, light, happy voices so at odds with their own thoughts that it was almost surreal.

"Saw Charlotte couple of days ago," Josiah said, apropos of nothing.

Of course Josiah never talked just to hear his voice, and Ezra braced himself even as he asked, "And how is our she-devil?"

Josiah snorted, shaking his head, even as he answered concisely, "Pregnant."

Ezra managed not to choke on his own swallow, barely sputtering as he commented, "Well, that was certainly expedient of her."

Josiah shrugged. "Think it means Vin never stood a chance. Wonder if we should tell him, though."

Therein lay the problem. Ezra studied his drink, pondering the question with all its ramifications.

He was saved from having to answer as something around them changed, voices growing slightly louder and more animated, drawing Ezra from his thoughts. As he glanced around, searching for the source of the distraction, his eyes adjusted to a rise in the lighting, as if someone were turning a dimmer switch.

But it wasn't from inside the building. Josiah inhaled sharply, and as Ezra turned his head toward the valley, he heard a faint hum in the air.

At the top of the complex across from them, the shimmer of gold had brightened and expanded, creating a halo around the top of the complex. The glow of it penetrated the night like the sun at dawn, not blindingly bright but beating back the shadows, bathing the valley in a soft warmth.

The first arc was silver, shooting through the glow as if it would explode into the sky like a firecracker or a missile. But as it reached the apex of the gold, it seemed to explode, waves rippling outward along the surface of light. More followed, and did the same, creating a light show that was stunning and brilliant, and, Ezra knew, deadly.

A new flare joined the silver ones, this one gold, and stronger, striking the top hard - the shield, Ezra realized, the shield that was in danger of collapsing. At that instant, another gold arc shot up, weaving around a silver one, and together they hit the dome, which turned a deep crimson.

The crowd around them gasped, and Ezra heard several people laugh, a man saying, "Wish they'd tell us when they were putting on these shows! This is the third one in a week!"

"Secret weapons?" some asked, while someone else called, "Could be dangerous - they don't seem to know what they're doing up there!"

Murmurs of agreement coincided with another flare of mixed colors, another sharp strike against the shield. It wasn't as strong this time, the 'bubble' of light turning bronze instead of red.

"Damn," Josiah murmured.

It was hard to tear his eyes away, the sight of it attractive and haunting, perhaps more so because only he and Josiah understood what was truly happening. But when he finally managed it, as the intensity of color and light was waning, he wasn't surprised to find everyone in the bar staring across the valley.

"Think that was it?" Josiah asked quietly, his eyes still on the distant butte.

"Undoubtedly," Ezra answered, picking up his drink. "It would seem that our dear Captain Wilmington was successful in his unwanted task."

Josiah finally looked at him. "He's got more spine than most of us." He lifted his own drink, slugging it back quickly. As he put the glass back down on the table, he continued, "I don't envy him or any of them, not one whit."

Not for the first time, Ezra found himself in agreement. He turned back to watch the rest of the fading show, wondering how many of them would be paying the price for it in the morning.

+17 months, 03.99 days fusion point

Chris stared at the blank screen, knowing that as he stood there, Buck was alone and upset, probably curled on himself in that empty bed, crying. The pain on Buck's face had been horrible, a devastation that Chris tried hard to deny to himself.

He sighed, scrubbed at his hair. The very movement seemed to take every bit of his concentration and his energy, as did turning around.

He shouldn't have been surprised, it wasn't like he had time to forget, but he had. Or, more like, blocked it out of his mind.

Blocked Vin out of his mind.

But there he was, sprawled on Chris' bed, naked and boneless and infuriatingly present. The taste of him was still in Chris' mouth, salty and bitter and so different from Buck that Chris fought down the urge to vomit it back up.

Except he wasn't sure any more how different it was, couldn't remember what Buck tasted like. He'd thought he'd never forget, but now, looking down at Vin, bile burning in his belly from what he'd just done to another man, he couldn't compare the lingering flavor to his lover, couldn't produce that memory clearly at all.

On the heels of that, he realized that he couldn't remember what Buck had felt like either - oh, bigger, definitely, Buck was one of the most well-endowed men Chris had ever seen. Vin didn't begin to compare. But when Chris thought about it, he considered the pain he had when he was stretched as far as he could go, his jaws tight with the effort of taking all of Buck's width, his throat filling to the point that he couldn't breathe. Compared to the work he had had to put into pleasing Buck, Vin had been easy and almost effortless, needing so much less.

Wanting so much less.

No, he caught himself, bending down to pick up Vin's pants. He didn't want easy, he wanted Buck.

"Here," he said flatly, tossing the clothing at the prone man. "You need to get off my bed."

Vin startled more at the impact of the fabric on his naked groin than he did at the words. He bolted upright, eyes blinking fast, hands going instantly to his crotch where they tangled in the cloth. "What?" he stammered, and Chris sighed.

"It's done," he answered, unable to look at the other man. Some part of him thought it odd; he'd just had Vin's dick in his mouth, but now he didn't want to see him. He wondered if he ever would again. "I want to go to bed."

"Bed?" Vin mumbled, but he moved, pulling his legs to him, as if making room for Chris. As if planning to share.

"Alone," Chris said sharply. "I want to go to bed alone. We don't need to be together right now." It was as much because of the radiation as because of the distance Chris wanted, craved at the moment.

Awareness was coming to Vin, slow and sure. He blinked, then frowned, but nodded. "Sorry," he mumbled, pulling himself over the mattress. His legs were wobbly as he got them under him, and it took several seconds for him to get his balance. It had probably been too soon for him, Chris thought, remembering how pale and weak he'd been in the bathroom not so long ago. What they'd just done, the energy they'd just released, it had taken everything Vin had.

But he couldn't bring himself to turn, or to reach out and help. To touch.

"Chris?" Vin said as he made his way to the door, the pants clutched tightly in one hand.

"What?"

"I . . . thanks. I . . it was good, real good, I - "

"Yeah, you're welcome," he said, "your reputation is still intact." He didn't mean for the bitterness to be so sharp, but the thought of what that blowjob had cost him was a price he intended to share with the other man.

"That ain't what I meant," Vin said quietly. "Even though I owe you and Buck both for that, I reckon."

Chris shook his head, still not able to look at Vin. "Reckon you do."

Vin sighed, and Chris flinched, wishing he'd just leave. Especially at his next words.

"It would have been easier on you if I'd died back then, after the whole thing with Charlotte. If I'd known then what this was gonna be like - "

"Don't." He turned finally, meeting Vin's eyes. "Ain't none of us happy with this, you know now how much of a price Buck and I are paying for this. It ain't fair to none of us, Vin, on any sort of level. It's messing up me and Buck, but it's messing up me and you, too, probably worse. I won't lie about the fact that there are times I hate you. And you'd be a liar if you said you didn't hate me as well - I know, I've seen the look in your eyes when you're cornered and my hands are on you."

Vin looked away, his shoulders sagging a little.

"But as miserable as we have it now, as hard as it is between you and me, I still prefer having you here to being alone. I don't act it much lately, but I still care about you, maybe more than I should." The radiation, he thought, but didn't say. No other explanation for why he'd come to feel more for Vin than he had before the 'accident' that had changed them.

The admission, though, felt like a betrayal, especially in light of the past hour, but it didn't sit as heavy on him as the way Vin looked at him now, relieved, and almost happy. As if Chris had given him something special.

Maybe he had, he thought, watching Vin smile a little shyly, then nod before moving out the door. Maybe he'd given Vin back his life,

He crawled into his bed, refusing to believe that it smelled at all of Vin, and curled onto his side, closing his eyes and trying to think only of what it had been like to go down on Buck.

+17 months, 6.36 days fusion point

Fowler had been right, goddamn him. The Albies had come two days later, battle cruiser backing up as big a fleet as they had fielded to date. It had been close, almost too close. They'd lost hundreds of thousands of people, lost almost a third of the second quadrant infrastructure when one of the Albie destroyer class ships had dived right into the core reactor. There was still a question as to whether it was intentional or not.

Along with the loss of life, they'd lost another power plant as well as the largest agricultural division on the planet. Three cities were gone, including Chandow, the center of textile and polymer manufacturing, and Toara, the technology-research enclave. It would take years to rebuild what had been lost, both in physical terms and in research and development. The casualties had been high, but not as high as when the fourth quadrant's power plant had gone, and at least this time, there didn't appear to be any nuclear radiation trouble. Most of the military support people and the civilians had made it to the safety shelters, and the shelters had held against the onslaught. There would be people to rebuild in the war's aftermath.

At the end, the very near end, someone in the satellite control room had done something amazing and the three cannons had fired in sync and true, and the last Albie battle cruiser had been sliced into tiny bits. That hadn't stopped the destruction, the metal remnants raining down dangerously on whole sections of the planet, but it had put the Albies on the run, and given the survivors cause for celebration.

Which was where Buck was now, with Ezra and Inez on one side of him, and Nathan and Raine on the other, Josiah dancing with his sometime lover, Emma.

Buck was at the bar, fetching the next round, already buzzing enough so that thoughts of Chris were distant, and less tainted with his own unease.

Which was probably why it happened.

Like everyone else, she was giddy and happy and living completely in the moment. She laughed as he accidentally knocked against her, almost spilling her drink, then smiled at him with laughing eyes and beautiful white teeth, her laugh rich and sweet and innocent in all the right ways.

"Louisa," she said, "Louisa Perkins." Her hand was slender but strong as it shook his, her hair dancing around her shoulders as she moved to the music.

They joined Josiah and Emma on the dance floor, then later, he joined her in her bed, losing himself in the welcome heat of her, the passion that was for him alone, the touch of someone against his body.

When he woke at dawn, the noise from the street let him know that the celebration was still going on. He felt guilt for being here, for cheating on Chris, for hurting her. He knew he should leave now, try to mitigate this disaster.

But as she rolled toward him, her eyes softer now but no less welcoming, he knew that this disaster was just going to grow. For the first time in what seemed to be a lifetime, he felt clean and content. It wouldn't last, but for now, it was enough.

When he buried himself inside her again, bringing her to climax with an ease he'd forgotten he possessed, something frozen inside him started to heat back up.

+17 months, 6.97 days fusion point

Chris watched the videos yet again, the news loop constant, the frames slowed down in those last two seconds as the last Albouais battle cruiser exploded into space dust. He'd turned the volume down, no need to hear the news anchor's jubilant commentary on the great victory for their planet, on the rumors that the war was, for the moment, over.

It was actually possible that it was. The attack had happened two days ago, and so far, according to Fowler and all the news agencies, the Albies had no back-up ships in production, no resources with which to continue the war.

In truth, if the original reports had been correct, the Albouais had re-started the war because their world was collapsing in the wake of the first peace treaty.

For the moment, they had peace. News commentators babbled at Administration lackeys about the potential benefits of going in and finishing them off once and for all, but Chris didn't really care. They wouldn't need him for that.

And, for the moment, the drugs had cleared his system. Fowler had made good, so far, on his promise, cutting back the doses and easing them through the withdrawal. For Chris, it hadn't been that bad; the drugs he'd been taking had been in smaller quantities and for fewer concerns. He could feel a difference, though, in how he was thinking, and how he was feeling.

How he was missing Buck.

He was still staring at the monitor, the images scrolling by, his hand hovering over the address entry.

He'd called Buck more times than he could remember since that night before the battle, that night with Vin. That night that Buck had done what he'd promised, helping him, helping them to do what needed doing.

And he'd actually managed to get through to his lover a couple of times, but the conversations had been like before, short, no real sharing, just cursory answers, so distant that Chris could feel the chill on his side of the monitor.

He rubbed his hands on his thighs again, hating the way they shook. The war was over now, at least for a while. Several years, if current intelligence could be believed. They had time to devote to finding a 'cure' for him and Vin.

'Success'. They'd had it finally, enough that he wouldn't have to visit Vin any time soon. He wasn't certain which one of them was more relieved. Not that he talked much to Vin; there wasn't a lot to say, not now, not while Buck was hurting.

He typed in the address, his hand hovering over the button to send it.

"Chris?" The voice was soft, coming from the doorway. He had been so distracted he hadn't even heard it open.

Vin leaned heavily on the frame, his clothes hanging loose around him. He'd stopped losing weight, but he wasn't gaining it back. Mary hadn't said as much, but she was starting to get worried, Chris had heard it in her voice.

"You talked to Buck?" he asked, his voice quiet.

It felt wrong to be talking to Vin about this, the memory of what they had done still too close, the memory of what he had said to them both. "Don't you worry about it," he said shortly, turning back to the monitor. "I'll deal with Buck."

He waited, listening for Vin to leave, but the silence was strong for too long. He looked back, irritated, to find Vin staring at him. "You need help finding your own room?"

Vin looked away finally. "Was it that bad?" he asked.

Chris frowned. "What the hell are you talking about, was what bad?"

Vin shrugged. "What we did. Was it that bad?"

Chris drew his hands into fists, knotting them hard in hopes of keeping them still. "I don't like to think on it," he answered, truthfully. He didn't like to think on it, it was bad enough that it was haunting his dreams, the taste and feel of Vin's cock in his mouth, the emotions in those blue eyes staring up at him. Recurring, as if he wanted it again, wanted Vin again. "We did what we had to do."

Vin swallowed. "That's all it was then, what we had to do."

Chris blew out a breath, the irritation moving into anger as the images played more closely to the surface of his thoughts. "What the hell else could it have been? You're straight and I love Buck. I sucked you off, we saved the world, did what we had to do. I'm sorry if you didn't like it, but it's done now, you don't have to worry about me touching you anymore. You're safe, it's over. Ain't that what you want?"

Vin didn't say anything, but his gaze drifted slowly back to settle on Chris. It was the same look he had worn that last time, that same combination of more things than Chris could sort.

More things than he wanted to sort.

The same look he wore in those damned dreams.

Maybe the drugs hadn't completely cleared Vin's system. That was the only answer. 'Cause the Vin Tanner he knew would never have looked at him the way Buck did. The way Buck used to, anyway.

He closed his eyes, the thought of Buck looking at him that way making him weak with want. And ill with the fear of having lost it.

When he finally looked again, Vin was gone.

Buck didn't answer.

+17 months, 8.22 days fusion point

"Where the hell have you been, Buck?" JD demanded, but there was a smile on his face and his hug was warm, if weak. "I been out of the hospital a whole day now!"

"Well, you know how to call me - "

"I been trying! We all have!"

And they probably had been, Buck thought; he'd stopped checking his messages and his pager after the fifth call from Chris. Glancing about the room, seeing the looks on Josiah and Ezra's faces, he knew that was a good guess.

"How you doin'?" he asked instead, stepping back to get a good look at the kid. "You look great!"

"Feels great to be out of that place!" JD shot back, but his smile was still in place and he did look - great.

As ever, JD rambled on about all the wonderful things about being out, about seeing Casey, being in his own bed, being with the team, winning the war. And inevitably, he asked the questions Buck had been desperately trying to ignore. "How are Chris and Vin? I haven't been able to get through since - well, I guess, since - well . . . "

Discretion, Buck thought, the kid gets it just in time not to need it.

Ezra answered, more to protect JD, Buck knew, than to help him out. "They're good, JD, as thrilled as the rest of us at the current turn in the military situation."

JD's face darkened. "Fowler sure got what he wanted out of them, didn't he? They gave him what he wanted, enough to blow that last cruiser into space dust. You haven't talked to Chris?"

Ezra's gaze flicked to Buck, but Josiah answered. "I talked to Vin this morning. Seems things are getting back to normal up there, as much as they can, anyway. Haven't you talked to Chris, Buck?" The echo of JD's question was intentional, Buck knew.

Putting it all right out on the table. He looked at Josiah, trying to hold his composure, seeing the knowledge in the other man's face. They all knew where he'd been these last two days and why. "Reckon Chris and I have said all we need to say for right now. He's doing just fine."

He didn't give them a chance to argue or even ask, turning instead and walking back to his room.

The computer greeted him with the message chime the minute he stepped through the door. The big-screen monitor flashed '17 messages', against a screen-saver of moving pictures of him and Chris, and the team, and his ma.

The big-screen monitor that he'd watched Chris go down on Vin.

Needed to get the damned thing out of here as soon as possible, before he started remembering -

"Buck?"

He stared, completely unprepared for Chris to be looking at him, his green eyes so familiar.

"How the hell - ?" he started, moving to shut down the feed.

"Please, Buck, please. Just give me a minute - please."

It had been days since he'd heard Chris' voice, or seen his face. Days of trying to forget everything he'd been a part of that night. But it had been years since he'd seen Chris the way he was now, desperate and begging and in his right mind.

The shock of it did more to give him pause than the begging itself.

"I know you're angry, I know you're hurt - in your place, I don't know how I'd be, other than ready to shoot you and whoever it was. But just give me a chance."

Buck waited out the words, thinking of the last time he'd talked to Chris, the love, the need, the desperation. "Kinda tired, Chris, been a long several days."

"Reckon so," Chris said quietly, and Buck knew that Chris knew where he'd been. Not the specifics; he didn't figure anyone here had actually told Chris, but Chris had always been good at reading people. Especially good at reading him. "Was it . . . " Chris stopped himself, looking away from the camera, and Buck saw the war in his face. He was angry and hurt and all the things that Chris Larabee did so very damned well.

But he was also aware that he had no right to be. That there was nothing he could do or say to give Buck what he needed.

"I'm sorry, Chris," he said finally, his voice rough. "I can't . . .it's too much right now. Give me some time, let me work it out in my head."

Chris nodded, but his voice was flat as he asked, "You seeing her? I assume it's a her. You always did find women more healing."

Buck hesitated, but only for a few seconds. He'd thought of this all the way back to the room, knowing he was gonna have to deal with it. "We're friends, just like you and Vin - "

"Don't bring him into this," Chris snarled, the anger finally winning out. "I didn't choose, don't want him."

"I know you don't," Buck said, and he did. "Don't change the fact that it was his cock in your mouth."

"And you saw that because I needed your help, Buck, because I need you!" There was heat in the words but the desperation was there as well. And the fear.

"I know," he said again. "I know all of it. I know that for all his wanting it to be otherwise, Vin's developing feelings for you, feelings that have him all screwed up. And for all your wanting it to be simple, it ain't. And for all my wanting, Chris, I got stuck in the middle, trying to make it so that the person I care most about in the world and one of my closest friends could do something that burns in my gut like cleaning bleach. I helped you both, Chris, and I'll probably end up having to do it again. And I'll do it, because I care that much about you, and about him, and about saving this world. But I have a need, too. I need to feel like I'm somebody on my own, somebody that can still bring happiness and pleasure to another human without selling a part of my soul."

Chris stared at him, the sadness cutting right to Buck's heart. "I guess I understand that," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry, Buck, I really am."

"Me too," Buck agreed. "I ain't made no decisions about her. She's a good woman, too good for me to hurt her. I ain't looking to replace you or end what we got, not unless that's what you want. Hell, I don't even know if I'll see her again. But no matter what, right now, I need to come to terms with me, Chris, not you and not Vin, but myself. Do you understand that?"

Chris wanted to argue, the words were on his lips, ready to spew forth. He didn't though, merely nodding his head. "Will you stay in touch?"

Buck smiled. "Yeah, I will. Better than I have these past few days, if you want me to."

Chris nodded. "I do. Miss you. That wasn't a lie then, ain't one now."

"I know."

Chris hesitated, then said slowly, "The war's over, at least for now. They can start working on getting us cured, Buck, getting me out of here, or at least to a safe point."

Buck swallowed, looking away from the other man. "You think that's what Fowler's gonna do? You think he's gonna let you and Vin just walk away, Chris? Yeah, the war's over - until the Albouais build another ship or two."

Chris took a deep breath, and Buck knew in the way the other man's shoulders straightened that he wasn't saying anything Chris hadn't already considered. Part of him was thankful; whatever had been going on with Chris, with Fowler and the drugs and the blackmail, at this moment, Chris was the man he had known for so very long. "I know," he said simply. "And I know the price of rebuilding, getting our own people back together."

Buck looked at him. "Were you gonna bullshit me about that? Make me promises you suspected or knew you weren't gonna be able to keep?"

Chris didn't look away. "I can't lie to you, Buck. Even if I tried, you'd know. Everything I do, everything Vin and I do is bright and shiny and lit up for the world to see." He sighed. "No, no promises. And I wouldn't ask any of you. Would be stupid." Chris looked away then, his voice quiet. "This it, then? We done?"

And there was the heart of it. Buck sighed. "What do you want me to say, Chris? That it's okay for you to fuck Vin as long as you love me? I know you ain't got a choice. Don't make it any easier."

"You still love me?" The question was so faint that Buck almost didn't hear it. Wished he hadn't.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing at his face. "Bigger question is if you still love me."

Chris smiled then, that soft, gentle smile that was so rare. "More than anything, Buck. I know you don't believe it, but thinking of you is all that got me through . . . well, I can't do it without you. Won't do it without you."

The threat was there, subtle and scary, reminding Buck that there was still more he could lose. The memory of Chris' madness returned, Vin's as well, and with it, the knowledge of how fine the line was for them both. Right now, Chris seemed to be on the right side of it, on the same side with Buck. But then, Buck wasn't certain of his own mind at the moment. Louisa's perfume still clung to his clothes, the impression of her body on his.

"Buck?"

He nodded, knowing that for now, there wasn't a choice. "All right, Chris. We'll do what we have to do."

He wondered passingly if this was how Charlotte had felt.

+17 months, 12.07 days fusion point

Josiah was surprised to find anyone up when he entered the common room; it was almost two in the morning and he himself was bound for bed as quickly as he could get there.

"Long day?" Buck asked quietly, smiling as Josiah set his kit down on a chair and headed to the cooler box. "Nathan said you did a second run to the fourth quad."

"Is it that bad?" JD asked from where he was sitting at the table across from Buck. "The news feeds have been pretty vague, just saying that the relief effort is working."

Josiah yawned as he pulled out a beer, then held it up, the offer clear. Buck shook his head and JD looked at the bottle hungrily then sighed and shook his head as well. With all the meds he was on, alcohol was prohibited and he knew that they knew it.

"It's bad," Josiah answered, opening the bottle and taking a long swallow before adding, "but it's coming along."

"Nathan said you ran two runs today," JD said with a sort of enthusiasm. He was beginning to get his energy back, for which they were all thankful.

Josiah grinned, walking back to the table. "They need pilots right now, and there's not a lot more we can do. Buck, you're taking a run tomorrow, aren't you?"

He turned his eyes to their team leader, noting how washed out he looked.

Part of him was relieved to see that Buck was suffering. Not that he wanted his friend to suffer, not that Buck hadn't suffered enough already with this whole thing. But he had spoken to Chris several times, and to Vin as well, when Vin would answer, and he knew that the two of them were hurting as well. Chris more so by Buck's behavior, of course, but Vin was caught in it as much because he was not only losing Buck but Chris as well.

It was a nasty mess, as horrible as any set of friendships could be.

"Yeah," Buck answered, his voice low and throaty. "First quad, tomorrow afternoon, medical supplies and food, I think."

"Good," Josiah nodded. Not that Buck needed his approval but right now, he didn't have much else to give.

"Speaking of which, I'd best get to bed," he said, pushing himself up. He looked at JD, frowning. "Don't be up too late, don't be pushing yourself. We need you back on your feet as soon as possible."

JD rolled his eyes, but Josiah knew he was as much pleased with the concern as annoyed by it. "Yes, Dad," he said, drawing the words out in long syllables, sounding as much like a kid as Josiah had ever heard.

It worked, though; Buck grinned and reached over, ruffling JD's hair. He nodded a goodnight to Josiah and headed off to his room, limping slightly.

Josiah picked up his kit, planning to head off to his bed as well, when JD asked quietly, "We ever gonna be all right again?"

He sighed, not really wanting to have this conversation, but knowing that it was inevitable. "Lot of ways to answer that. You want to narrow down my possible choices?" Even though he already knew.

The answer was confirmed by the look JD cast to the door through which Buck had disappeared.

Josiah sighed again, but before he had a chance to start to answer, JD continued.

"I can't imagine what that must've been like, having to watch Chris with Vin. I couldn't do it if it was Casey and I'm not even as much in love with her as Chris and Buck are - they still love each other, don't they? Isn't that why he's hurting so bad?"

Josiah shook his head, but he smiled slightly. Out of the mouths of babes. "Suppose so," he said. "But he's got to find his own way with this, JD, they all do. And they will. You've trusted them for a long time. Trust them a little longer."

JD looked at him, and Josiah saw the maturity he knew JD had, but often kept hidden. It came out in his next words as well. "The war's over, more or less, but it's not for Chris and Vin, is it? Fowler's not going to leave them alone, so he's not going to leave Buck alone, is he?"

Josiah stared at the younger man, appreciating his insight and yet hating that his innocence was gone. He hadn't even seen it pass, even though he thought, perhaps, that almost dying might have rushed the process along faster than any of them had thought. "No, he's not. And no, there's not a damned thing any of us can do about it other than try to be the best friends we can be to them."

JD leaned forward, his eyes bright with anger. But even as he started to speak, Josiah saw the truth of it settle in his young features, hardening them to a sad worry. The anger died, but in its place was a resolve that Josiah understood. "We'll do whatever we can," JD said. "For each of them."

Josiah lifted his bottle in a small toast. "That we will, John Dunne, that we will."

As he drank, he saw JD gaze back to Buck's door. He knew where the youngest member of the team would start, which was good. He'd have more success there than with the other two.

And he hoped JD would have success; Buck was the key to keeping Chris and Vin safe, Chris first, then Vin through the strange connection the three of them had. Josiah himself had talked to both Chris and Vin in the past few days and while they both seemed a lot better, a lot more themselves, there was still something at play. Chris was depressed, worried about losing Buck. Even without saying it, it was there in his eyes.

Vin, though . . . It wasn't the depression, like it had been around the time Charlotte had pushed the final button. And it wasn't the desperation he'd had during the worst of the drugging.

But it was something like them both, but still different. A sort of resignation, as if he'd given up on fighting. As if he was biding his time.

Josiah hoped it was something that simple, but he doubted it. Things didn't seem to be going all that well for any of them, least of all Vin and Chris.

"Night, Josiah," JD said, slowly getting to his feet. He held on to the table for a few seconds, getting his balance, and Josiah waited, in case he needed to help.

"You all right?" he asked, and JD rewarded him with a smile.

"I will be," he said, reaching for his one crutch. "We all will."

Josiah nodded, hoping the kid was right.

+17 months 15.76 days fusion point

Vin sat quietly on the bed, waiting. Eddie was in his arms, her little nose twitching against the thin skin of his wrist and setting off little flares of color. Bob was in his cage, running on the plastic wheel. It was almost worn out already and they'd only had it several days. But the metal ones, while lasting longer, picked up the radiation too quickly. The rat had almost set the place on fire the other night, the flames catching Vin's attention before they got out of hand. That was only because he was in the room more now, for the moment. Until Fowler needed them again, and let the shield fall, forcing them back together.

Or the compulsion came upon them.

It was time, past time, really, but then, Chris had been so depressed after talking to Buck that Vin knew he would fight it. Hell, they were both fighting it. But the radiation would have its way - ten to fourteen days, Fowler believed, that was how long they could be around each other before the need to 'complete the circuit' would overpower their rational control. It had been twelve days since they had been together that last time, Buck talking Chris through it. Seven days since Buck had said whatever it was that Chris refused to talk about.

Fowler had cut back on the drugs, a lot, but not as much as he claimed. They weren't all gone, Vin knew that. He also knew that the shield Fowler had put back into place between their rooms was still completely at his control. He could drop it whenever he wanted, forcing the resonance between them to build.

The chime came first, a warning more than an announcement. He didn't move, didn't have to. Chris opened the door with the conviction of someone who knew he was in charge. He did blink, a little startled at the fact that Vin was on the bed, but he covered himself quickly. He always had. He did glare at Eddie though, his nose wrinkling in distaste, and Vin pulled the rat closer, protectively.

"We need to talk," Chris said flatly, and Vin almost smiled. Chris continued though, as if Vin's silence was permission. Maybe it was, Vin thought. He'd given up fighting, there was no point. Choose your life, Buck had said, and he was trying to do that. That attitude wasn't entirely new to him, but the passivity it required now was. The fact that he was adapting faster than he'd expected was his most conclusive proof that Fowler's drugs were still somewhere in his body.

"Fowler's asked for our help," Chris stated, stepping into the room. "They've placed us high on the list of projects, trying to find a way to get us cured or at least safe for others to be around. Mary's back in charge of the medical section of the project, and Fowler put a reactor at her disposal. We're a top priority, once they get the hospitals stabilized and the recovery effort underway."

He was smiling and Vin wondered what drugs Fowler was slipping now to Chris, if there was an hallucinogen. Had to be if he truly believed Fowler's promises.

"To make that happen faster, they need us to keep supplying power - not at the level that we were, but enough to keep things working while they get the other power plants back on-line. Fowler thinks we should be okay if we do it once every three or four weeks or so, as long as we still - you know, supplement, on our own. That will probably time out with when our bodies force it anyway. If it's going to happen, we may as well use it for our own good this time."

Chris looked at him, his eyes bright but determined.

He expected it to start then, watched Chris' hands, waiting for one to reach for him.

But Chris didn't move to him, not yet. He stayed still, just looking at Vin, his green eyes sharp. "You with me in this?"

Vin tilted his head, surprised when Chris actually seemed to expect an answer. 'Choose what you got.' But Vin realized he didn't know what he had, and the only person who could answer that for him stood right in his doorway. After a few seconds, he said, "Does it matter?" watching Chris closely.

Chris' expression hardened, his body straightening. "Reckon not. Just be easier on all of us if you'd come willing. We knew it was going to come to this. You going to make it hard again?"

The pun was unintentional, but Vin didn't miss it. Nor did he misunderstand the message. "No. I reckon I'm with you," he said softly. "Pretty much always have been."

Chris nodded, relaxing a little, as if that were the answer to everything. Maybe it was, Vin thought. It was gonna be the only answer Chris would accept, from him, anyway.

And it was the only answer he had clear in his own head. All the rest - well, that was still the drugs talking. At the worst, genetic-mutation, like Fowler said. Had to be. There was no way he could be falling for Chris, no way he could actually want this thing between them, not matter how good it had been that last time, Chris' mouth on him, driving him crazy.

No way that he could want to be trapped in here with Chris, doing what they were doing.

"I'm gonna go talk to Buck. Going to need him, if he'll help. You okay with that?"

Something stirred in him, something that should have been shame or embarrassment, but that felt a lot more like jealousy. But he shrugged, hearing the words without really thinking about them. "Whatever it takes."

"Good," Chris smiled, and something sparked in his eyes. "You get some rest."

He left then, just a simple three steps to and through the door, and the disappointment was sharp, but short. There was nowhere Chris could really go, was there? They were stuck here together, probably for the rest of their lives. If Chris needed the hope of getting out to keep him going, then he'd have it.

But Vin knew better. Fowler was right, damn him. Best to take what he could get before it was gone. Or as Buck had said so well, 'Choose what you have.'

He was choosing.

He stretched out on the bed, pulling Eddie to his chest to pet the furry head as he turned to watch the screensaver scroll. Pictures of the jungles in the fourth quadrant, things he knew he'd never see again.

Time. It was all just a matter of time.

Continues in
FISSION: Finding Resonance

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