Discredited

He woke slowly, with that head full of cotton feeling that told him that he had been given some kind of drugs. He listened for a few minutes to confirm that he was, indeed, in a hospital.

Damn he thought, not again. What had happened to put him here?

He tried to remember and drew a blank, the last thing he could remember was Friday night at the Saloon with the team, then, nothing. At least nothing til now.

Had he crashed the Jeep?

He didn't remember even getting into the Jeep and he knew that he'd only had a couple of drinks so he couldn't have been drunk .

Thinking about it was starting to make his head hurt so he decided to make the effort to open his eyes and ask Chris what had happened.

Not that he had heard Chris or anything, but he knew that when he opened his eyes Chris would be there by the bed, watching and waiting. He was always there when Vin woke up in a hospital.

Well at least he had been every time during the past year since he had joined Team 7.

And especially now, since they had so recently admitted to each other that they had feelings.

Now that they were about to make the move from admitting those feelings to beginning a relationship, one that Vin had wanted almost from the day he first met Chris Larabee.

A relationship that he never actually believed possible.

And then the impossible had happened and Chris had come to him and had confessed that he had feelings for Vin, that he wanted to be with him.

The problem was that this was all new to Chris, he had never been attracted to a man before and wasn't sure how he felt about being attracted to a man. About how he felt about being attracted to his best friend. The only thing he was sure about was that he wanted to try, to be with him because he had tried to ignore his feelings for the past few months and had come to the conclusion that he couldn't do that.

So they'd been taking it slow and easy. Spending time together, getting closer and learning to trust. They had started with some kissing and caressing and moved slowly from there. The had yet to "comsumate" the relationship but they were very close to doing so.

Chris had moved slow because this was all so new to him, and Vin, because he needed to, he wasn't prepared to open his heart completely only to find out along the way that when it came down to it, that Chris wasn't willing to make the change to a male-male relationship. Vin had needed to go slow not because it was new to him, but because it was old, the times that he had been hurt were too many and too painful and he was unwilling to allow himself to be hurt again. No, he needed not only to be sure about how he felt, but how Chris really felt before he would let down his barriers and let the man he loved in.

He opened his eyes then, blinking a bit at the brightness, and turned his head looking for the green eyes that could lead him out of his confusion. He looked to the left and saw no one, turned his head and saw, not the blond head he needed to see, but instead saw the gray hair and blue eyes of Josiah.

"'Siah?" he managed to get out, his voice a raspy drawl and barely louder than a whisper.

The older profiler looked down at him, his face relieved to see the younger man awake but holding something back, hiding something.

"Hey, Vin," he greeted the barely conscious man softly, "good to see you awake."

He could tell by the look in the younger man's eyes that he wasn't the person that he had expected, no, needed to see. He could see the question in those too trusting blue eyes.

And he dreaded having to give the answer that he knew he would have to, and wished that he had more time to figure out a way to make it easier for the young agent, knowing that all the time in the world wouldn't make it one bit easier.

Vin looked into Josiah's eyes and knew that there was something that the big man wasn't telling him.

"Oh, God..." he rasped, "something's happened to Chris!" He looked at the sad face and feared the worst.

"He's dead, ain't he..." The flat quality of the soft voice spoke volumes to the former preacher. He realized that he had made a mistake by not offering an explanation sooner.

"No!" Josiah cried. "No, Vin...Chris is fine," he added hastily, placing a comforting hand on the shaking shoulder of the younger man.

"Then why ain't he here?" The question was so softly spoken Josiah wasn't even sure for a moment that it had been asked aloud.

He sighed as he realized that nothing less than the truth would satisfy the distraught man, and knew that the truth he had to tell might well hurt Vin more than his first assumption would have.

"It's a long story, Vin" he began, and was cut off as the clear blue eyes turned towards him, begging him to tell it.

"Don't look like I'm going anywhere for a bit, ya might as well tell me."

They were interrupted as a nurse entered and sent Josiah out. The doctor was on her way and needed to check out Vin.

Josiah was both relieved and worried by the interruption, he knew that he had to tell Vin what was going on, but really needed a bit of time to compose himself and figure out the best way to do so.

At the Saloon Friday night, (four days ago)

The team had just finished a relatively easy week. Their new case was in the early phases, lots of research, hours of footwork tracking down possible leads, and absolutely nothing dangerous or, for that matter particularly interesting. All in all a nice break from the past couple of months.

The Berger case was finally over, well, all but the trial that was slated to start in a couple weeks. The operation had taken months and had been one of the most intense cases that Team 7 had ever worked on.

At the moment, a bit of boredom wouldn't be such a bad thing.

The drinks, while enjoyed by all, were not taken in excess. Most of the team had shared the pitchers of beer, except Ezra who had opted for a brandy, and Josiah whose latest drink of choice was one of those awful "iced tea drinks". No one had overindulged, the dart game had occupied almost everyone at some point during the evening, but luckily for the other players, Vin had been otherwise engaged, as had Chris.

They had spent the entire evening, much to the amusement of the rest of the team, talking quietly at the table, nearly unaware of anything else in the room. The fact that they were "courting" was, though well known within the team, a secret. Whereas their field of employment was not the best environment for a relationship to develop in, an openly gay relationship would cause serious repercussions for both men. But hiding such a relationship from the other five men would have been difficult as well as pointless. They were all family, and they had all known about Vin's sexual preferances from the start. He had made a point of being up front about that after having tried to hide his lifestyle at a previous job. He had decided that here he would be himself. If that caused him to lose his job so be it. He was done hiding.

Most of the team had known before Vin that Chris was interested, he had spent more effort hiding it from him than from them, unaware that any of them would take notice. Now they watched, each hoping in their own way and for their own reasons, that the two men would be able to make the relationship work. It was just too obvious that they were meant to be together. Now if they could both get past their own barriers and fears and let it happen, the rest could relax and start looking for someone for Ezra.

Instead of going home with Chris on Friday, Vin had wanted to stop at his place and spend the night before joining him at the ranch on Saturday.

When Vin hadn't shown up on by noon, Chris had been reluctant to contact him, thinking that he might just need a bit of space. They had been spending a lot of time together lately, but on the other hand, this was the weekend that he thought that they would take that final step. So he finally caved in and called, and got no answer, and called, and got no answer. Finally, Chris got in his truck and drove into Denver and went to Vin's apartment.

Vin wasn't there. His Jeep wasn't there. He wasn't answering his cell. And now Chris was worried. He called Buck, hoping that Vin had spoken with one of the others, that there was a simple explanation for his absence. But today wasn't a day for simple explanations, for easy answers.

Neither was Sunday.

Then on Monday morning, the phone call came.

Vin had been arrested.

Was even now in the lockup at the 14th Precinct.

Not that Vin had called. No, one of the officers that had worked with the team on a recent operation had called. He hadn't said much. In fact, he had asked that Chris not tell anyone at the precinct that he was the one who had informed the ATF that Vin was being held.

And things had gone downhill from there.

+ + + + + + +

Chris arrived at the 14th Precinct Station in full glare mode. Buck had insisted on accompanying him, and now that he had arrived he was glad to have him along. He was, at the moment, so angry that he knew that he would be unable to deal with the officers there without hitting someone and probably ending up in jail right alongside Tanner.

They had already spoken to the desk sergeant and had been unable to find out anything about Vin or why he was being held. Now, and for the past hour, they were waiting to speak to the captain. Buck had called Ezra and informed him that they were being given the runaround.

Ezra, having learned the hard way that dealing with local police could be extremely frustrating, had simply decided to ignore the red tape.

He called Travis.

It was only a few minutes later when the Captain's aide re-appeared and, after having done his best to ignore the ATF agents for the past hour, was suddenly turning himself inside out to be of assistance as he led them down to the lock-up. They still had no idea as to why their teammate was being held, but they were being taken down to meet with him so they assumed that they would soon find out.

They were mistaken once again.

The aide had spoken to the office in charge of the lock-up and arranged for them to meet with Vin in one of the interview rooms usually reserved for lawyers and their respective clients. Then he had left.

The officer who was "helping" them now asked them to wait while he brought Tanner to them.

They waited.

And they waited.

Finally Larabee let out a growl and headed back to the desk only to find the area abuzz with personnel.

"What the hell is going on?" Chris asked in that soft voice that might lead a person to believe that he was being polite despite the "hell", that is until they looked up and met the glare that had accompanied the query.

"Um...ah..." the officer stammered, looking from Larabee, back towards the cells and then back, never quite meeting the irate blonds eyes.

"There is a slight problem..."

At this point an emergency team of paramedics entered the area with their cases of equipment and a gurney.

"Where is the patient?" the first EMT asked as the officer turned towards him, thankful to have that glare focused on the medics and no longer on himself. The officer quickly came out from behind the desk and started towards the cells.

"This way," he instructed as he hurried in, thinking that he might just survive the morning.

Unfortunately for him, neither Larabee or Wilmington had forgotten how to add two and two, and were hot on the heels of the team as they entered the cell holding Vin.

The paramedics' questions as to the condition of the patient prevented the ATF men from having to ask what was happening. Listening, as the officer explained that he had entered the cell to bring the prisoner up to the interview area and had been unable to wake him up. He went on to explain that the man had been brought in early that morning and had appeared to be under the influence of alcohol and or drugs.

The medics began to examine the nonresponsive man while the officer tried to edge his way out of the cell, an action prevented by the two angry men who watched and listened as their teammate was quickly determined to be alive but, according to the medics, was clearly overdosed with something. Not knowing what drug or drugs were responsible, they performed basic lifesaving techniques and prepared the patient for transport.

Throughout the treatment Chris and Buck watched, knowing that their friend did not use drugs and still in the dark as to the circumstances of his incarceration. As they loaded Vin onto the gurney, Chris asked Buck to stay at the precinct and find out everything he could about the arrest while he accompanied Vin to the hospital.

"If they keep giving you the run around call Travis," he instructed as he and followed the paramedics out of the cell.

As they left the area, the officer, who had finally managed to get back out to his desk, breathed a sigh of relief.

It was short lived relief. He had forgotten the second agent.

He was now confronted by a seriously annoyed Buck Wilmington, who now demanded complete details about the arrest and subsequent incarceration of Vin Tanner.

+ + + + + + +

Buck was sent back upstairs where he was asked to wait in yet another "interview" room, this one, he was sure, was actually an "interrogation" room. He decided that he would give them exactly one half-hour then he would call Travis. Something here stank and he was pretty sure that it was related to the fact that the Captain of this precinct did not like Team 7, at least not since the Team had inadvertantly upstaged them during a recent incident that had involved most of Denver's law enforcement community.

Feeling upstaged was one thing, but arresting and mistreating a fellow law enforcement officer was a whole different game, and Buck was not going to let them get away with any more of it.

Meanwhile, the Captain in question had decided that he was tired of being bullied around by the Feds. He knew that his actions were borderline, but in this case he felt like he was the one with the power.

He made a few phone calls and within fifteen minutes there were a dozen reporters clamouring for information at the front desk.

He glanced down the hall to the room where the ATF agent was waiting and snickered, "Guess you'll find out when the rest of the city does..."

At the Denver General Hospital, Chris was also waiting. They had wheeled the unconscious Texan into the emergency room, leaving him in the waiting area alone, and had not yet given him any information at all.

After calling the office to inform the rest about what was happening, he had nothing left to do except wait.

And Chris Larabee hated waiting.

It took about twenty minutes for Josiah, Nathan and JD to arrive. They informed him that Ezra had headed for the 14th to see if he could assist Buck.

Ezra arrived at the precinct just a few minutes after the police had finished with their "news update" to the waiting reporters.

It was only a few minutes later that Chris's cell rang.

"Larabee."

"Um, I don't quite know how to say this, Mr. Larabee..." Ezra hedged. Which put Chris on immediate alert...Ezra never said "Um".

"What?" The tone clearly conveyed his glare through the device.

"You need to turn on a television... ah, any channel will do I think." Ezra winced as he relayed the information, extremely glad that he was several miles from his boss's current location.

Chris hung up and crossed to the reception desk, flashed his badge and informed the nurse in charge that they needed access to a television set immediately. She took one look at his grim face and led the four men to the lounge just down the hall.

He strode over and flipped it on and stood back in shock as the local reporter began her recap of the newsflash that was apparenty being broadcast on every local channel.

"We are here at the 14th Precinct where an ATF agent was brought in early this morning after being found at the scene of an apparant sex scandal and murder. A 15 year old male prostitute was found dead at a local motel, along with the agent who was passed out in bed with the body, and apparently under the influence of drugs of some type." The reporter went on with a few more "details" of the breaking scandal but no one was left in the room to hear as first Chris, then the rest of the team stormed out of the room.

By the time Ezra had located Buck, the news had broken all across the city. They decided to contact the rest of the team, regroup, and figure out how to handle this latest piece of information. Now they knew why the police hadn't given them any information, they were stonewalling just long enough to leak the story to the press. Anything to embarrass the Feds and make the locals look like they were on top of things.

Buck turned to Ezra as they left the building, "we better get to Chris before he gets to the person responsible for the leak..."

"I would have to agree with that assessment, but I still want a copy of the arrest report and I want to see the evidence." Ezra mused, "this has a distinct odor to it, don't you think?"

+ + + + + + +

The police report, when they finally got a copy of it along with a complete set of photos taken at the scene, was incredibly damning. From the looks of it, the two men had engaged in a night of "rough" sex, including the use of the near-strangulation technique that some claimed could heighten sexual pleasure. It appeared that this was very likely the cause of death for the young prostitute.

The drug tests on both the "victim" and on Vin were not yet completed, so they wouldn't know if that was a factor for another day or two.

Vin was still unconscious, and besides the overdose, there was a fair amount of bruising that the police claimed was already there when he was arrested, but another call from the officer who had alerted them earlier that morning suggested that the amount of bruising increased exponentially after the police had attempted to question Vin, who had been semi-conscious at the time of his arrest.

Under "normal" circumstances, Chris Larabee would have immediately dismissed the possibility of Vin engaging in any of the things that he was being accused of, but these weren't "normal" circumstances.

The past month had been one of incredible ups and downs for the blond. He was in love, or at least he had all the symptoms, but the person he loved was a man. And that opened a whole different can of worms. He had never considered himself prejudiced in any way, and had no problem at all when Vin had informed him of his preferences at his initial interview just over a year ago. But that wasn't the same as accepting his own "gayness".

And Vin had spent a fair amount of time talking to Chris about what becoming involved with another man would encompass. He needed to be sure that Chris was aware of the darker side of living a lifestyle that many people condemmed.

And Chris had been starting to accept many of those factors as a part of who he now was.

But, and this was a big but, seeing the media frenzy as Vin was outed in the press, and seeing the photos of the beautiful young man that they claimed Vin had spent the night engaged in sexual acts with, made him begin to doubt.

He wondered if Vin had doubts about whether he really wanted to be with an older man, one who was inexperienced with male on male sex. Or, he wondered if Vin might have gone out to have a last fling with a young, pretty man. Maybe Vin was trying to decide if he was making a mistake.

And how could Vin have sex with another man at the same time that they were building a relationship? Emotional issues aside, what about the dangers of AIDS?

And on top of all that, the publicity from this would cause a myriad of problems, and not just for Team 7. Every AFT team and agent would be under a microscope.

Chris was angry and confused, and Chris didn't like being angry and confused.

And that made Chris angrier yet.

And unfortunately for Vin, he was the focal point of the anger and confusion that Chris was feeling.

So Chris, instead of staying by Vin's bedside, was spending his time working. He needed to keep himself busy, he couldn't allow himself any time that wasn't filled with something, anything to keep his mind busy. Because if he wasn't busy, he would have time to think, and right now that was the last thing that Chris Larabee wanted to do.

The rest of the team were following any leads they could find to try and make sense of the evidence that seemed to point to the very conclusion that the police had made. But the team knew Vin Tanner and they knew that their friend and teammate would never do what the evidence suggested. They were angry, too, but they had a bit more distance than their leader. So while Larabee was doubting, they were working their way through every lead, no matter how small or insignificent it might seem. They were completely determined to get to the bottom of this.

Despite the fact that they had been ordered to stay out of it by the higher ups.

+ + + + + + +

When the doctor was finished checking on Vin's progress, she left his room and came face to face with Josiah Sanchez.

"Doctor," he began, standing so that she would be unable to get past until he had some answers, "what can you tell me about Mr. Tanner's condition?"

She knew this man wasn't family to the patient, but she had treated all of the members of this team at one time or another and knew that they might as well be. She also knew that Josiah needed some answers.

"I'm afraid I really can't tell you what you want to hear," she began, "but I can tell you that this was a very close call." She paused and indicated that Josiah should join her as she moved a little way down the hall. "Vin was given a combination of several drugs, some of which we have identified and some that we have not. And, yes, I did say 'was given'. I don't believe that the man that I know would take any of these drugs, let alone a mixture or the amount that was in his system." She smiled at his reaction to her statement and continued, "We have trouble getting him to take antibiotics and pain pills when he needs them, this is not a man who would use them for recreation."

"I hope you are willing to testify to that if it comes to it," Josiah responded.

"Let's hope that this gets cleared up before that happens," she returned.

"Unfortunately, one of the drugs, and from the residual amount we found in his blood, he was given a very large quantity, was rohyponal, or rufies as it is known on the street." She looked up at him again, "This means, that it is very unlikely that he will ever remember anything that happened for those hours, at least not in any clear or coherent way."

Josiah nodded. He was well aware of the effects of the drug, and, he was concerned about the loss of Vin's memories for the event. Memories that would, no doubt, be unpleasent, he also was slightly reassured since the drug was not usually one that was used voluntarely. No, this was a drug that was given to an individual by others who wanted control over that person for some reason, and that reason wasn't usually a polite or legal one.

"He'll be sore and achy for a few days, some of the bruises are pretty deep but there are no broken bones or other serious injuries." She sighed then, unhappy to have to relate the rest of the news. "You need to know that the police have contacted the hospital and as soon as he is ready to be released, they want him back in custody."

It wasn't a surprise, but Josiah had hoped that they would have a little more time before he had to prepare Vin for this eventuality. Let alone how Larabee would react when they locked Vin up again.

"When?" he asked, hoping for a few days at the least.

"He's out of danger from the overdose, and as I said, the other injuries are minor. We will have to release him to them tomorrow." She shook her head sadly, knowing how hard it would be for the young man she'd just checked on.

"I guess I'd better prepare him," Josiah sighed. Nothing about this week had been easy and it didn't look like that was going to change anytime soon.

Vin was sleeping when Josiah reentered the room, so the ex-preacher pulled the chair up beside the bed and sank into it wishing that the person Vin would see when he awoke would be the one that the young man wanted, no, needed to see. He knew that it was unlikely, but he raised his eyes to the heavens and asked anyway.

He sat watching the sleeper for a while, then realized that he should inform the rest of the team about the imminent incarceration of their teammate and, after checking that he was deeply asleep, moved out to the hallway to find a phone.

He reached Ezra, explained the situation, and asked if he should be the one to inform Vin about the events of the past 24 hours.

Ezra thought a moment and responded that although he, too, believed that the best person would be Chris, he was aware that, for the moment, other members of the team would have to fill in for their leader. He then suggested that it might be easier for Vin if more that one of his friends were there to help soften the blow. Asking Josiah to wait the twenty minutes it would take for him to get to the hospital.

"Thank you, Ezra." Josiah breathed a sigh of relief, "I wasn't looking forward to completing this particular task on my own."

"It's still going to be hard on him," Ezra agreed, "but I think that if he knows that we are behind him it will be easier."

"Not as easy as it would be if Chris was here," the gray haired man bemoaned, once again wishing that life would be just a little bit kinder to one longhaired sharpshooter.

+ + + + + + +

Vin woke a little while after Ezra arrived, and with that sixth sense that had saved all their hides so many times, knew that they had something to tell him.

"Ya might as well spit it out guys," he drawled softly within minutes of waking, "I ain't gonna be able to get back ta sleep 'til ya do."

The two men looked at each other and shrugged, Ezra nodding to Josiah to start.

"It's like this, Vin..."

The story didn't take long, they only had the bare facts, or bare accusations anyhow. As they pledged to find out the truth of the matter, they could see that Tanner's mind was off in another place. They watched him for a few minutes, pretty sure just what other place, or rather, what other person was occupying his mind.

"Vin..." Ezra started to reassure him but the younger man cut him off.

"That's why he ain't been here," he stated so quietly it was as if he wasn't really talking to them but thinking out loud. "He thinks it's true, that I would..." he looked at the two of them, blue eyes wide and full of pain. "Oh, God, how could he think...I used to live out there, I was that boy..." he trailed off, turning away from the men.

The room was quiet for a few minutes, neither Josiah or Ezra knowing what else they could say.

A few minutes later Vin spoke again. "I need you to go, I gotta...jist go, please!" He curled up then, facing the wall and wouldn't say another word for the rest of the afternoon.

It was early evening when Buck arrived, and, after Josiah and Ezra informed him of Vin's request that they leave, he sent the other two men home, glad that they had stayed and kept watch over him as he slept.

Buck entered the room and found Vin still turned to the wall and seemingly asleep, until he looked closely. The tension in the younger man was easy for Buck to see. He moved over to the bed, pulled up the chair, and sat.

"I know you're awake, Vin," he started, gently "and you don't have to talk to me, but I have a few things that I gotta say to you before I shut my mouth." He paused again, collecting his thoughts. "I know that you're upset that Chris ain't here, and I understand why, but I gotta tell you that he does care, and he does love you." He sighed as he saw the younger man's back stiffen, then went on. "You have to understand, he was so scared when you didn't show up, he thought you'd been hurt or worse, and, though he never said it out loud, I think he was afraid that you had changed your mind about him."

"Then it all hit the fan this morning, Vin, you've just gotta give him some time to figure it all out."

Buck sat then in silence, not knowing what else he could say. He had brought clean clothes for Vin to wear in the morning, not wanting him to have to wear the bright orange prison jumpsuit, knowing that the reporters would be waiting. If he could save even that much of his friend's dignity, it was worth the trip. He put the bag with the jeans and shirt aside and was preparing to leave when Vin finally spoke.

"Buck, I appreciate that you came here but I think maybe you should go." He paused before continuing quietly, "This is gonna cause a lot of trouble for the agency, and it's probably better if you guys keep your distance. I don't want anyone else to get mixed up in whatever is going on here."

Buck started to protest but was cut off as Vin turned to him, his eyes still full of hurt, but now mixed with anger.

"Larabee's right to stay away."

He said it, knew that it was true, but ached to the core that Chris would let that separate them.

"You don't know what's going on, and neither do I. All I do know is that I would never do what they say I did, but I got no way to prove it."

He would have said more but this time Buck interrupted him.

"No, we don't know what is going on, and that's exactly why we need to find out. We know that you didn't do this, and we will find a way to prove it." He glared back at Vin, daring him to argue the point.

Tanner shook his head. A part of him resigned to the fact that his friends were determined to be there for him, even if they might end up being tarred with the same brush.

And that fact took his breath away.

Knowing that these men would risk their reputations for him. It brought something very close to a smile to his lips.

It quickly disappeared as he realized that the support did not include all of them. There was one absence, and it hurt because, of all of them, he was one that Vin believed would be there.

No matter what.

He realized now, how wrong he had been.

+ + + + + + +

Adrian Conners was scared. He had never been anywhere close to as scared as he was now. He had left the motel Sunday morning as instructed, but instead of heading out of town right away as the man had insisted, he had waited in another motel for Joey to join him.

It had all seemed so easy, the man had paid Joey and he a LOT of money to set up the agent who had already been heavily drugged when he was brought to the motel.

It was a simple plan, the agent was to be caught in bed with the underage boy.

Joey and he were being paid to ruin his reputation.

Adrian was mostly reluctant to take the job because there was a chance that Joey would be taken into juvenile custody after he was found in bed with the agent, but Joey had assured him that he would be able to get away. Especially after he claimed that the agent had forced him to have sex. He may be young, Joey claimed, but he knew how to take care of himself.

And while a part of Adrian felt bad about doing that to anyone, he and Joey badly needed the money, and so they did it.

Then he saw the news report and knew that things were not what they had seemed.

Joey was dead.

And the news said that the agent had killed Joey.

He knew, now, that Joey and he had been used, not just to set the agent up for a sexual scandal, but for murder as well. The money had been the bait that Joey and he were never meant to spend.

Adrian knew that the man had been given way too many drugs to have had sex, let alone killed Joey.

He now feared that the man who had hired them would want him dead too. Because he was the only one who knew that the agent could not have killed Joey.

He left the motel and headed back to the small room that he and Joey had been renting, planning to get his things and get out of town. Then, he had almost been run down by a large black SUV. He thought, for a moment, that it was an accident, but then it had turned around and come at him again.

He was scared, so he ran, but now, Adrian was also angry. And that anger just might keep him alive.

He managed to lose the car that was trying to run him down, hot-wired a car and headed out of town. He had the money and, with that, he could stay out of sight until he decided what to do.

He had set up an innocent man, his best friend was dead, and now, he was alone, and he was still running.

+ + + + + + +

On the other side of town.

Charles Berger grinned as he watched the news update. His plan was working even better that he had thought it would. The money he had paid the private eye to find a weakness, and the cost of setting up the ATF agent, were well worth it. He could see the case against him falling apart as the star witness for the prosecution's integrity was destroyed. If anyone was going to jail now, it would be that long-haired undercover man who had somehow gotten inside his organization. Well, he wouldn't be getting inside anywhere for a long time, that is, except a 8x8 cell.

And outside of Denver at the Larabee ranch.

Chris was sweating as he cleaned Pony's stall. He had already finished Peso's and had cleaned out the common area of the barn, scrubbed the tack room and raked the corral. He was almost tired enough to return to the house and, hopefully, be able to sleep without the images of Vin and his young lover haunting him.

Almost.

He finished the barn, showered, skipped the dinner that he knew would only cause the lining of his stomach to ache, had finished some paperwork and then straightened the den before climbing into bed.

Now he lay wide awake, unable to stop the images from invading his tired but stubbornly awake mind.

He reran the events of the last day, trying to figure out why the rest of the team was so sure of Vin's innocence, while he couldn't seem to forget the image of the beautiful young body entwined in the bed with his would-be lover.

Would-be lover. That was the part that caused him to doubt. He would normally trust Vin over anyone else, but the thought that he could be with someone else was the cause of his uncertainty, the part that was driving him to the brink of despair.

He had finally made his decision.

He had been ready to take a leap of faith, knowing that his life would never be the same, and knowing that it was likely to be the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time.

Maybe the best thing ever.

And that, he realized, was also a part of the problem. If his relationship with Vin turned out to be even half as amazing as he had thought it was heading, he knew that he would have to deal with guilt. The guilt that he would feel for the memory of Sarah and Adam. How could he even consider being this content, this amazingly happy while they lay cold and dead in the ground?

Maybe a part of him wanted Vin to have been with someone else, to have ruined the dream before it could start, to break it off, because, Lord God, he knew that he couldn't, that he didn't have the strength.

That he was drawn to Tanner like a moth to the flame was clear, and for him, at least until this morning, there had been no turning back.

Now, maybe he could find a way to distance himself, to be alone like he had been for over four years now, like he deserved to be for the rest of his life.

It was starting to get light on the eastern horizon before he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

+ + + + + + +

The next morning.

Vin awoke to the rattling of the breakfast tray being delivered and the smell of coffee. Not that he had any appetite. He turned just enough to shove the offending tray on its wheeled table as far down the bed as he could, then turned back, trying to ignore the fact that it was time to be up and awake. Today held nothing at all that he wanted to deal with...ever. Josiah was sitting in the chair next to the door, watching as Vin rejected yet another meal, worried that if he wasn't eating here, it was unlikely that he would start doing so once he was locked up. He moved over to the bed and tried to talk Vin into eating at least a small portion of the food.

"Ain't hungry, Josiah," he replied, still facing away from the man.

"I know, Vin, but you have to start eating...you have to trust that we will find a way to get you out of this."

Vin let out a sigh, shaking his head as he replied, "I know, 'Siah, I just can't see how anyone is gonna fix this." He turned, sat up and looked Josiah in the eyes. "No matter how much you believe in me."

He drank the carton of juice, managed a couple sips of the weak coffee and a half slice of toast before giving up. "Sorry, 'Siah," he breathed as he once again pushed the tray back.

"It's okay, Vin," he replied, "you tried." He handed the jeans and shirt that Buck had left for Vin, and explained, "the police are going to be here in a little while and I think you'd rather wear these than that orange jumpsuit."

The grateful look in Vin's eyes was all the thanks that Josiah needed. He nodded, and after asking if Vin needed any help, went out in the hall to give him a few minutes of privacy. It might be a while before Vin would have that small luxury again.

About ten minutes later the police arrived, along with the doctor. She didn't really want to release him into police custody but had no choice. She did insist that he be taken out in a wheelchair, as all patients were required to, but it was when the officer pulled out a set of handcuffs that both Josiah and the doctor objected. Finally Vin spoke up, silencing the argument that was getting out of hand.

"It's alright," he said softly but firmly, offering his hands to the officer who held the cuffs, "they're just doing their job."

"Okay," Josiah agreed, "but we aren't taking him out the main door, there were already a dozen reporters out there an hour ago."

The officers agreed, bringing their car around to a back service entrance. They weren't as eager as their captain was to embarrass another law enforcement agency; locals or Feds, they were all on the job. And many of the men on the Denver force had worked with, and respected Team 7.

Although they had avoided the reporters as they left the hospital, there was no way to bypass the crowd at the station.

They helped Vin out of the cruiser and led him through the noisy crowd, the camera flashes nearly blinding both Vin and his escort. He kept his head level but refused to answer any of the leading questions being loudly asked by dozens of reporters all at once.

They made it inside where he was once again booked, strip searched, dressed in another orange coverall and locked in a small, dingy cell.

+ + + + + + +

Two days later Vin was taken before the grand jury.

The agency had declined to provide an attorney for Vin, wanting to distance itself from the publicity. Its "offical" stand was that Tanner had not been on duty at the time of his "problem". Travis had argued that they needed to back their men but was outvoted by the rest of the senior officials.

Fortunately for Vin, Ezra had an ex-stepfather who, though estranged from Maude, had always been fond of his stepson. He was also an excellent criminal attorney, and maintained a license to practice in Colorado. At Ezra's request, he assigned his current caseload to a partner and flew to Denver.

The hearing did not go well.

One of the first pieces of evidence that the DA presented were DNA tests that linked Vin to the semen found in the boy's body. The fact that this bit of evidence had not been turned over to the defense was glossed over by the DA by claiming that it had just been delivered from the lab that morning. Doubting the veracity of that claim, and being able to prove that the DA had withheld crucial evidence purposely in hopes of catching them unprepared were two very different things.

It was a major strike against Tanner.

The photos of Vin in bed with the body didn't help either. The day never seemed to get any better.

By the time the decision was announced that he would be held over for trial, no one was surprised.

Then the question of bail came into play.

The defense asked that he be released on his own recognizance, pointing out that he was a decorated ATF agent and had ties to the community.

The DA countered with the emotional force of a dead fifteen year old who had been "raped and murdered".

The judge, having witnessed the media frenzy surrounding the case, decided to cater to the public's fears and asked for a bail of $500,000 dollars, meaning that Vin would need to put up 10% if he was going to await trial out of jail rather than inside.

Vin sank back into the hardback chair, resigning himself to weeks, if not months, behind bars while awaiting trial. There was no way that he could come up with $50,000.

He was led away, handcuffed, through yet another crowd of reporters and flashbulbs. This time his head was down, hoping his long hair would hide the devastation he knew was in his eyes.

+ + + + + + +

As the courtroom drama played itself before the grand jury, there were several other witnesses who simply watched from their respective locations.

Charles Berger was watching via a private eye who he had paid to follow the case, he was sitting in the courtroom taking notes as the evidence was presented. When the young ATF agent was held over for trial, Samuel Fuji noted the details and headed for a phone so he could inform his client.

Adrian Conners was watching from his motel room up in Loveland. He read the papers and tuned in the Denver news and watched as the man that he and Joey had set up.

And every time he saw the man's face he felt a wave of shame.

When had he become the kind of person who could do that to another human being?

And Chris Larabee watched.

He had never felt so torn in his life as he did now. There was a part of him that was screaming at the injustice of what was happening. A part of him that knew that the Vin Tanner he knew would never hurt a teen, would never take that teen to a motel and use him sexually let alone in a fashion that could cause his death. A part of him that knew that his team was absolutely doing the right thing as they followed every lead and fought with every bit of skill and training they had to end this nightmare.

Because that was what this had become for Chris Larabee.

No matter how much he "knew" that contradicted it, there was a part of him that heard the DA telling the courtroom that Vin Tanner's DNA matched the semen found in that dead boy. That saw the pictures of the two in the rumpled motel bed every time he closed his eyes. And no matter how hard he tried to make those two parts of himself find a center, a way to reconcile the conflicting data, so far, he'd been unable.

Now as he lay in his bed yet again unable to sleep, he thought about his friend who was sitting in a jail cell in Denver. Alone, while he was here, alone, and he wanted nothing more than to have him here beside him. And he knew, now, that whatever his head was telling him, his heart was saying something infinitely easier to understand.

His heart was telling him to believe...to trust.

And so, at 2:15 in the morning, Chris got out of bed, showered, dressed, got in his truck and headed into Denver.

He arrived at the 14th Precinct at 4:25 A.M. and demanded to see Vin Tanner.

It took forty-five minutes, a phone call to AD Travis, and the well-practiced use of his famous glare, but at 5:10 he was being led to an interview room after being assured that Mr. Tanner would be delivered to said room immediately.

Ten minutes later the door opened and Vin was led in. He was cuffed and Chris demanded they be removed before the escort left the room. He had already checked and knew that there was no one watching through the observation window.

He paced for a moment before turning to face Vin. Wincing at the bruises and pale, exhausted face, then taking a deep breath as he ran a hand through his already mussed hair, he began to talk.

"Vin..." he said, and stopped. He met the blue eyes, eyes that screamed at him. Eyes that held up his betrayal and asked why.

Eyes that were really, really pissed off.

Vin looked at the man who he loved, and at this moment, the man who he also hated. The man who had turned his back when he needed him the most. The man who he had trusted with everything he was, and who had thrown that trust in the gutter.

He straightened, walked over to Chris, looked him in the eye, and punched him in the face before turning and walking out the door.

+ + + + + + +

Chris sat on the floor of the interview room staring at the door through which Vin had just exited. His jaw ached, as did his backside, but he was barely aware of either. His mind began to replay the last few minutes trying to figure out just what had happened. He was so happy to see Vin when he walked in the door, the cuffs and the bruises were disturbing, but not life threatening. It had to have been a trying day, sitting in the courtroom as the DA presented some of the incriminating evidence to the judge and jury.

But it was only a preliminary hearing.

He hadn't been there but Josiah and Ezra had both filled him in on the details.

Including the bail situation.

But that could be dealt with, even now his mind was working on the possibilities.

He shook his head as he got up from the floor. It had only been a few seconds since Tanner had slammed his way out the door and, no doubt, directly into the hands of the custody officers waiting outside.

As he opened the door he found Vin, pinned against the wall by one of the men as the other pulled his arms back preparing to recuff him.

"Wait!" Chris demanded as he approached the men.

The officers looked up at him, then back at their prisoner. Hesitant to release the still squirming man but at the same time, unwilling to cross the black cloud that was approaching fast.

"Okay," the shorter officer agreed, "but you keep him in that room or he's back in his cell."

Vin's reaction was to go limp, letting out a deep breath before he countered. "No, put me back in the cell, I don't want..."

He was cut off as Chris grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the small room.

"Listen, Vin." Chris hissed, "I know I should've been here for ya, and I'm sorry, but this hasn't been easy on anyone."

Vin stiffened at the tone, knowing that Chris didn't have a clue about how he felt, or why. He knew Chris thought that being here now was enough, that it somehow made up for the past three days. And he knew that he didn't have the words to explain to him why it wasn't, not now, now yet, anyhow. Right now all he could feel was cold, lonely, confused, betrayed, and angry.

He knew that talking now would only make things worse, so he shut his mouth, and let the words that he could see coming out of Chris's mouth wash over him like a television set on mute. The words dissolved into meaningless sound as he refused to let his mind decipher the meanings. Suddenly he was aware of silence. Not sure how long it had been since Chris had said anything, he slowly raised his head.

Chris was sitting on a chair just looking at him, green eyes glittering. Waiting.

Vin shook his head slowly, sighing, "I can't do this right now, Chris..." He stopped, trying to find a way to put the conflicting swirl of thoughts and emotions in his head into words, and finding none, he shrugged and turned back to the door.

Larabee sighed, finally realizing just how tired and drained Vin was, knowing that what he said was true. Despite his own need to talk to Vin right now, Vin was literally unable to talk to him.

"'S' Okay, Vin," he breathed, "It'll keep." He wanted to add more but knew that right now, silence said so much more than words could.

He opened the door, letting Vin precede him and, after turning him over to the waiting officers and watching them lead him back into the lock-up, waiting, hoping that Vin would turn back. As they reached the heavy doors that led to the cells he turned and left the building.

And never saw Vin turn, looking back, hoping against hope to see Chris still standing there.

Vin was unaware that he was still staring at the spot where Chris had been until the guard grabbed his arm and guided him into the lock-up.

Nor was he aware of the moisture clinging to his lashes as he walked woodenly between the guards back to his cell.

+ + + + + + +

Chris drove from the precinct to the Federal building, it was still early, but not early enough for him to drive home before he had to be at the office.

He thought about catching a nap on the couch in his office, but realized that his mind was too full to allow him any rest. He made coffee instead.

By the time that the rest of the team arrived he had a plan. Leaving Josiah in charge, he headed across town to take care of the details.

By the time he was done it was after 4P.M. He arrived back at the 14th by 4:30 and headed inside with his papers.

He arrived at the bail desk, presented the paperwork, and waited.

The clerk entered the information into his computer terminal, waited a moment, printed out a page, and returned to the counter.

"The bail payment is entered, but Mr. Tanner isn't here anymore," at Larabee's glare the clerk continued, "once he was arraigned he was slated to be moved to the county jail. We don't have the room for long term housing here, he was transferred this morning."

If looks could kill, the clerk would have been dead... flesh crawling with maggots dead.

By the time Chris reached the county jail, it was just after 5, and, as the clerk at the window pointed out, bail payments and ensuing releases were conducted from 9 A.M. to 5 P.M., and that was that.

The look that she got was very similar to the one the clerk at the 14th had received, this was another very lucky clerk, because she, too would have perished in a very unpleasant manner if that look had been translated into action.

He looked past the clerk into the main receiving area of the jail, picturing Vin and how he would have looked as he was processed in, jumpsuit now a dull gray, carrying the usual packet containing a towel, thin blanket, small bar of soap and packet of toilet paper, and a few other essentials as he was escorted into a solitary cell.

Alone.

Back inside the crowded jail, Vin was wishing that he was alone. He was supposed to be alone. Any cop or agent was supposed to be kept separate from the rest of the inmates. At least until he was actually convicted of a crime. And even then most were kept in areas with limited access. It was just too dangerous for any law enforcement personnel to be housed with the general population. But somehow, when they had transferred him, that fact had been left out of the paperwork. And with the number of times his face had been on the news for the past few days, it was unlikely that any of the men incarcerated there didn't know who he was, and that he was an ATF agent.

He was the enemy. And he was there, in their midst, alone.

+ + + + + + +

Vin had spent the first hour at the county jail trying to reach someone who could and, more importantly, would help him reach his attorney or any official who could get him transferred to a restricted area. It soon became apparent that he was wasting his time. For today, at least, he was stuck in the general population along with approximately 120 other detainees.

Some of whom he might have helped to put behind bars. The rest just disliked law enforcement personnel on general principles.

He had grown up on the streets, rough streets. So he knew the basics for survival in hostile territory. The first of which was that he would be tested. And he had to pass that test. Actually, he had to make sure that by the time he was done, the men who were even now sizing him up, were more afraid of him than they were of the rest of the inmates, the guards and while he was at it, the devil himself.

He knew that he wouldn't get through the day without at least one confrontation. And it wouldn't be good odds, they would stack the deck in their own favor, after all, he was a cop, an ATF agent... a Fed. Being in here with 120 men was not unlike being a fox tossed into the pen with the hounds. His only hope was to convince the hounds that he was not a fox but the biggest motherfuckin' wolf they had ever seen. Either that, or he was gonna be one dead fox.

Never mind that he hadn't really eaten anything since this nightmare had begun. The adrenaline that was flooding his system in anticipation of the upcoming fight, while enhancing his senses, was doing an excellent job of burning out the lining of his stomach.

The guards were well aware that their new inmate was a Fed, they knew how things worked inside, and they knew exactly how far they could let things go before stepping in. And that was part of the fun. Looking after the scum of Denver week after week was basically a pretty boring job, so a chance to watch the coming showdown was nearly as good as a PPV fight. They had laid odds, placed their bets, and were even now watching the monitors and waiting for the fun to begin.

It didn't take long.

The long-haired Fed had paced out the area, checking to find the most protected locations, the places where he could hold off an attack and limit the number of men who could reach him at the same time. But he was also limited by the access he had to the various rooms. The doors were controlled remotely with video pickups set above them. No one, guard or inmate, could get from one area to the next until the person watching the monitors decided to release the door.

He was in the common room, hoping that the visibility would limit the chance of an attack, not realizing that the guards were nearly as eager for the fight as the group of men who were suddenly surrounding him.

There were seven or eight of them, and after a quick assessment, he decided that four of them would be easily taken care of, they were normal sized men who appeared to be in average physiacal condition. Standing back a bit was one man who appeared to be in charge of the group, he probably wouldn't even fight unless he absolutely had to.

That left four. And they were a formidible four -- big, beefy, and they had obviously spent a lot of their time working out. He could easily take two or even three of them out, it was the fourth, along with the distraction of the other three, that would make this a tough one to win.

He turned slowly, facing them each, taking careful note of their positions and stances. Needing every edge he could give himself.

When the first man moved in he was ready.

Within the first thirty seconds he had laid out two of the three "average" ones and given one of the fighters a kick to the head that would make him easy to finish off.

He gave a grim smile as he realized that they had seen his slight build and underestimated him. The odds were still theirs, but not by as much.

Then he had no time to think, just react, as three men came at him. He kicked out low, taking one of them in the side of the knee. He wouldn't be putting any weight on that knee for a few weeks. The second moved in on his back left side, aiming a huge fist at his kidney. He turned and moved, still taking the hit but only as a glancing blow, he could tell by how much it hurt that if the blow had hit squarely it would have been all over. He barely sidestepped the third man as he ducked and rammed an elbow into the stomach of the man who had hit his back. Then there were just too many coming at him all at once. He hit out with fists and feet, not knowing who he hit or where, but the odds finally caught up with him as a fist that felt like a hammer connected with his ribcage, followed by one to the side of his head. After that it was simply pain and grayness that quickly shaded to black.

He woke up sometime later in the infirmary and wished he hadn't.

There were some definite advantages to being unconscious.

He groaned, cracked open his eyes, and immediately regretted the action as the bright light sliced straight into them sending a screaming bolt of pain that left him dazed and barely able to breathe.

So he just concentrated on breathing, and that sent a jolt of lightning into his ribs.

"Aw, hell," he panted, silently, trying not to move or breathe. He decided to just lie there and listen, figure out where he was, how he got there and maybe, if he was lucky, he would just pass out again.

The next time he woke, he could hear muted sounds as if someone was in the room trying to be quiet. He carefully cracked open an eye, noticing that the lights were dimmer than they had been. He could barely make out someone moving but only as a dark blur. His eye was barely open and despite his effort to focus, things remained blurry and indistinct.

He sighed softly, deciding again that it was just too much work to stay awake. He was warm, mostly alone, and apparently not in any eminent danger.

So he slept.

7:30 A.M. the following morning.

After a cold, rainy drive into town, Chris was at the office. Needing to get caught up on yesterday's caseload and check the reports the rest of the team had left in regards to Vin's case. He knew from a phone call the evening before that they were still waiting for a break, but he wanted to see just what they had covered. He planned to leave in a half hour to pick Vin up from the jail.

As the clerk had made manafestly clear, he couldn't do anything until 9.

What she failed to point out was that at 7:30 each morning, the new shift commander at the jail would download all the data that had come in from across the city. The new network for all prisoner data was designed to keep each agency up to date on any change in inmate status, one of those functions was to check all the sentence and bail information from the previous day in order to make sure all inmates who had completed their sentences, and everyone whose bail had been posted, were released immediately. There simply wasn't room or resources to house anyone whose time was up. By 8 A.M. the officers assigned to discharges were given the list of who to round up, and by 8:30 they were out the door.

Including Vin Tanner, whose bail payment had been posted by the clerk at the 14th the previous evening.

An officer arrived at the infirmary, escorted him to the "check out" area, gave him his street clothes and personal belongings, and sent him on his way.

Confused by their actions, he asked why he was being released and was told that bail had been paid. They either could, or would not say by whom.

Now, standing in the drafty hall, Vin stared at his wallet, the one that was bereft of a single dollar.

Now he was halfway across town from his apartment, had no vehicle, and, aparantly, no money. And, while he was grateful that someone had bailed him out, he was frustrated that they hadn't seen fit to provide him with a ride. He glanced around and breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted the ATM.

He was barely able to stay upright at the moment, there was no way he could walk home.

He inserted his card, pushed the proper buttons and after a moment the screen informed him that his card had been cancelled.

No money, and now no card, - the machine had declined to return it.

He shivered as the outer doors once again opened, letting in a blast of damp, chilly air. Staring daggers at the offending machine once more, he amended his earlier thoughts about his ability to walk home. It didn't look like he had a choice, short of calling someone.

He pondered that for a short time and discarded the thought. He'd caused his friends too much trouble already.

He pulled the collar of his lightweight jacket up, fastened all the buttons, and ducked his head as he headed out into the windy, wet day.

Meanwhile, Chris had finished his paperwork, drained a second cup of coffee, and had a short meeting with AD Travis before heading down to pick Vin up. He timed it perfectly, arriving at the window by 8:55. He waited until the hand slipped past the hour, not wanting another lecture about the proper hours of business. He handed his receipt to the clerk, not the same one as the day before, but close enough. She took the paper to her terminal, entered the information, printed out yet another sheet, and returned to the window.

"I'm sorry, sir," her expression anything but sorrowful, "that inmate was released earlier this morning."

Chris stared at her as if she had just sprouted leathery wings and a tail. His teeth were clenched so tightly in his attempt to refrain from either screaming or chewing her head off that he could barely speak.

"I was told that no one was allowed to bail someone out before 9," he paused, not even knowing what to ask or say he was so frustrated. But before he could form a sentence she filled him in.

"Well, whoever paid the bail did it last night over at the 14th, so this morning the computer printed out the papers and he was released," she smiled a little then before continuing, "Most people want out as soon as possible once the bail has been paid." If she had looked into the blazing eyes of the man standing at the counter she might have had the sense to run. Or not, this was a county employee after all. She pushed his paperwork back across the counter to him, and noticed that the vein in his forehead was standing out and his face was a bit flushed. Thinking that he might be ill she asked if he felt all right.

He considered a reply and stopped himself, barely. If he shot the stupid cow he'd be in as much trouble as Tanner. He shook his head and backed away from the counter.

If the bail payment had been entered before 5 the previous day, they should have released him last night. He took a breath, returned to the counter, and asked for the name of the person who was working the night before. Someone was going to pay for this, even if it was just with their job. He wrote down the name and asked if she could find out what time Tanner had been released. She checked the computer and informed him that he had been signed out at 8:22.

Looking quickly around the nearly empty lobby, he could see that Vin wasn't there. He called the office to confirm that Vin hadn't called any of the team, and knowing Vin, he probably didn't have cab fare. He paused, remembering the ATM he had passed. Well, maybe he did have cab fare. He dialed Tanner's home phone, got the machine, tried his cell, got a "not in service" message, and decided to head to Purgatorio. And, given his mood the day before it was unlikely that he would answer his phone anyhow.

Forty minutes later he left Vin's empty apartment. Looking up and down the dirty, gray street and shook his head.

"Where are you, Vin?" he muttered as he got back into his truck.

Back across town, only a dozen blocks from the jail, Vin leaned heavily against the wet brick wall of the alley he had ducked into. He was cold, wet, and exhausted. His body felt like one big bruise. His back was on fire where one of his assailants had kicked the exact spot that one of the others had punched repeatedly. He couldn't take a deep breath, because it felt like there was an iron band around his ribcage. And now, on top if it all, he was dizzy and his head was pounding.

He realized that he was right the first time, there was no way he could walk as far as his apartment.

He slid down the wall, feeling the dampness as his already wet jeans pressed tighter against his backside. I'll just rest for a minute. he told himself as his eyes slid shut.

+ + + + + + +

Vin would have slept all day except that the door he was leaning next to opened and the owner of a small coffeeshop stepped into the alley to take a break. It was cool and damp in the alley, but after an hour or two over a hot grill, it was a breath of fresh air.

He nearly tripped over the damp bundle before he realized that it was a man huddled there.

Where many shopkeepers in the area had little patience with the homeless who frequented the alleys looking for food or any other usable items that found their way into the trash, he had, at one time been in a similar situation and knew how hard life could be.

He ducked back into the door and returned a moment later with a mug full of hot soup. He knew from past experience that touching the man could be risky, when you slept in the street you tended to wake up on guard. He stood back and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, sir," and then a bit louder, "sir, are you all right?"

The head came up to reveal a face mottled with purple bruises. And he watched the eyes narrow as they took in the surroundings. He reached out slowly, offering the shivering man the hot food.

A hand reached out, hesitantly and accepted the mug, nodding thanks as he took a sip.

"You look a bit worse for wear, pal," he offered, then noticied the good quality of the suede jacket and shoes. He realized that this might not be a "street" person after all, this could be a victim of a mugging or some other mishap.

"Is there someone I can call for you?"

Vin sipped the warm liquid, cradling the mug in both icy hands to take advantage of the heat. He realized that if the man hadn't found him and woke him when he did, he might not have woken at all. He knew that he couldn't deal with Larabee at the moment, or Nathan, he decided that the person who would give him the least amount of flack was probably JD.

"Yeah," he breathed, "I'd appreciate that." He gave the man JD's cell number and a short message. "Name's Vin, by the way, and I owe ya."

The man shook his head. "You're welcome, I'll be right back." He left the door open and ducked inside to make the call. He returned a few minutes later dragging a chair into the back of the kitchen, offered his hand and helped Vin inside and onto the chair. "Your friend will be here soon. Til then, stay here where it's warm."

Twenty minutes later, JD arrived. He had countermanded Vin's request that he come alone, and brought Buck with him. They entered the kitchen, following the cook who was explaining how he'd found Vin in the alley. Buck took one look at the bedraggled man and went into full "mother hen" mode, scolding Vin for not calling them for a ride, at the same time as he gently wrapped him in a warm blanket.

They loaded him into Buck's truck, and, when they would have taken him to the hospital, were met with steely resistance and blue eyes that begged to go home...they caved, on the condition that he let Nathan examine him, and took him to his apartment.

While JD helped Vin peel off the cold, wet clothes and ran a hot bath for the still shivering man, Buck called the rest of the team.

Nathan first, who was on his way, and, after updating the others, he grit his teeth and called Chris.

He knew that Vin wasn't ready to face the blond's reproachful concern, but he had to let Chris know that Vin was alive, if a bit worse for wear. What the hell had happened to the man since he'd seen him in the courtroom, was it just the day before yesterday?

He looked like hell, and not even warmed over - more like half frozen over.

Nathen had a fifteen minute headstart on Larabee but the blond beat him to the apartment. He barreled in and ran directly into a tall, mustached roadblock.

"Now just hold on a minute here, Chris," Buck spoke in a low, warning tone, "JD's in there getting him into bed and Nathan is on his way to check him over, so just give the boy a little bit a breathin' room before ya go in there like a house afire..."

If Buck hadn't been well acquainted with the glare he received he might have backed off and let his friend pass. But he'd had a lot of practice dealing with Chris when he was in this kind of mood. He would, on most occasions, back down and let Chris have his way. But not today.

When Larabee would have argued, Buck dragged him out into the hall and closed the door. He didn't want Vin to hear some of the things he was about to hit Chris with. Things that Chris needed to hear.

When Chris finally quit fighting, and stood quietly, waiting for Buck to say his piece. Buck began, "You've had five days to talk to that boy, five days that he's been waiting for you to be there for him. Now, you need to wait on him for a bit cause he's in no shape to deal with you just now." At Chris's alarmed look he held up his hands and continued, "Now he looks to be a bit beat up, and he got pretty cold and wet out there, but he's gonna be okay."

He shook his head at the look in his friend's eyes, knowing that he could talk 'til he was blue in the face and it would mean next to nothing until Larabee could see for himself that the scruffy sharpshooter was really in one piece.

"How the hell did he get himself all beat up like that?" Buck wondered aloud, "He was in jail 'til, what, a couple hours ago?"

"Something I'd like to know too," Chris agreed, "I tried to pick him up last night and they said I was too late, said come back at 9 A.M.," he paused, getting angry just thinking on it again, "When I got here at nine, they said they let him out at 8:20." He paused again, realizing what Vin would have surmised. "He must'a thought no one even cared enough to pick him up."

"Shit." Buck cursed as he realized the truth of it.

They were interrupted as Nathan arrived, bag in hand and frown on his face. "What did he do to his self this time?" he asked, muttering as he entered the apartment with Buck and Chris on his heels.

+ + + + + + +

Nathan entered just as JD was helping Vin into the bed. He was finally starting to warm up, the hot bath sending the warmth deep into his sore muscles, taking an edge off the pain caused by the numerous bruises.

Nathan shook his head, wondering why he bothered to patch them up time and time again, knowing the answer even as he finished the thought. He asked Vin the question, knowing that answer just as well.

"How you feeling, Vin?" He almost laughed as he asked the redundant question, and did smile when he heard the answer rasped back at him.

"'M fine."

"Yeah, fine...Fucked up, or is it, Framed up...In pain...Nauseous...and Exhausted."

"Sounds about right," the soft drawl agreed.

Buck and Chris were standing in the door, Buck gripping a black sleeve, preventing Chris from moving any closer until Nathan was done. When Larabee would have shrugged him off, Buck pulled on the fabric and leaned into the man's ear, "You let Nathan check him over." The look in the deep blue eyes told Chris that this was one of those occasions when Buck would use force to back up his words. He forced himself to relax and let out a deep sigh.

Twenty minutes later Nathan dragged them out into the living room. "I'd rather have him in for x-rays and an MRI, but he seems to be mostly bruised...especially his left kidney. He's gonna be passing blood for a few days." He sighed and shook his head. "He wasn't bruised like this at the hearing, what happened to him?"

"That's what we all want to know," Chris growled out. "He was in police custody for most of the time. I'm going to find out who did this."

"We'll find out, but let him rest now, he's exhausted."

"I know, Nate." Chris sighed, "I just need to be sure he's okay."

"He'll be asleep soon, then you can go sit with him. He's got a concussion so you'll need to wake him every couple hours."

The rest of the team left, and after fixing a cup of coffee, Chris pulled a chair up to the bed and settled in to keep watch.

He sat, watching Vin sleep, thinking about what the last few days must have been for him. How it must have felt to wake up and find his whole life upside down. To be accused of sexually using and killing a teenaged boy, and be the center of a massive news frenzy. And, if that wasn't bad enough, to have his best friend turn his back and act like he believed what the police and the news media were saying.

By the wee hours of the morning he was beginning to understand, and was amazed that all he'd received was a sore jaw.

When he woke him to check on the concussion, Vin answered the questions correctly and promptly curled back under the blankets and went back to sleep.

As the sun rose Vin stirred again, this time on his own. Chris leaned over gently brushing the tangled hair off his face.

Seeing that Vin was awake, he made a quiet apology, knowing it wasn't enough, but a start, at least. "Vin, I know that I've been a total jerk, and I'm more sorry than you can possibly know," he sighed as he watched Vin turn away from him. "I ain't gonna give up on us, Vin, however long it takes to prove myself to you. I love you and I think that you still love me." He was interrupted by the soft drawl.

"'M still mad at ya."

"I know, and I can wait as long as I have to - you can't stay mad forever."

"Can try."

"Yeah, you can," he smiled a little at the defiance, "but you don't have a monopoly on stubborn."

"Is that the spot next to Park Place?" The drawl held a hint of humor.

He smiled again knowing that Vin was angry, but beneath that anger was the love they shared, he would just have to dig deep and find a way to prove himself.

Well, he thought, as he watched Vin drift back to sleep, whatever it takes.

+ + + + + + +

At 8:30, Chris called the office to let them know that Vin was still sleeping and that he would be staying there for a while yet, at least until Nathan came over to check on him. He knew that they would have called if they had any news but asked anyhow.

"No, Chris," Buck confirmed, "other than the call from the DA about the Berger case," he paused, deciding to give him the news, it wouldn't get any better by waiting, "They are thinking about dropping the charges."

"Hell no..." Chris ground out, "After all the work, months of work...how can they even consider letting that bastard off?"

Buck sighed. "Vin is the main witness," he paused, "and they don't think that his credibility is..." He was cut off as Chris exploded.

"That's a bunch of crap, Buck, you know it and I know it." He stopped, taking a deep breath, "Vin is one of the best in the agency, they're gonna let a shitbucket like Berger off while they try to crucify Vin."

He sighed again at the stupidity and unfairness of it.

"Sorry, Chris," Buck sighed, "It's just one more reason that we have to clear Vin's name."

"Hell, Buck, if it would clear Vin's name I'd let ten Bergers off...he's not important, Vin is."

"You got that right, finally. Glad to have you back on our side, pard."

They hung up and Buck went back to work while Chris went in to see if he could find something that he could fix for Vin's breakfast. He finally called Nathan and asked him to bring some groceries.

It was nearly noon when Vin woke up. He started to stretch, then thought better of it as too many muscles started to scream. He slowly turned over brushing the sleep from his eyes. The first thing he saw was Chris, slumped down in the chair, head on his chest, snoring softly. He remembered waking during the night to find the blond sitting next to him, remembered how good it felt to have him there, watching his back. Then he remembered five long days and nights when he had woken, alone, looking for and needing that support. So he remembered, then, that he was pissed off that Chris, of all his friends, had doubted him.

He slowly got his feet under him, rose, and shuffled into the bath.

Chris woke to the sound of the shower, looked, and saw the empty bed. He straightened his neck and winced as the muscles protested the abuse. He had just reached the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee when Nathan knocked on the door.

Chris brought the bags of groceries into the kitchen while the medic headed into the bedroom to check up on Vin. He knew that the younger man would try to avoid his attention and was determined to make sure that he really was well enough to be up and around.

Although he was unhappy with Nathan's attention, Vin endured it knowing that it gave him a few extra minutes before he had to face Larabee. He hadn't seen the blond since he emerged from the shower but could hear someone puttering around in the kitchen and figured that Chris was busy fixing lunch.

So much for his chances of slipping out unnoticed. He really needed some time to himself, some time to find his center, to get his balance back.

He finished dressing and joined Chris and Nathan in the living room for lunch.

He ate quietly, working on a plan as he slowly choked down the soup and sandwich Chris had prepared. He knew he needed the food, but convincing his stomach to allow it to stay put would be another matter. After they ate, Nathan headed back to the office while Chris seemed to be settling in for the afternoon.

"Um, Chris..." Vin began reluctantly, "don't ya need to go to work?"

"Trying to get rid of me already, Tanner?"

Chris grinned at the glare he recieved.

"I took some time off to take care of you."

The glare got darker. "Don't need no one ta take care of me."

Chris was about to argue the point when he realized that right now, it might be better to take a more tactful stance. "Yeah, you can...but right now I want...need, to take care of you. To see for myself that you are okay."

"Suit yerself, Larabee," Vin growled as he sank back onto the sofa and closed his eyes, he'd only been up for a little while, but he was tired and there didn't seem to be an inch of him that wasn't aching.

Back at the office the phone rang in Chris's office. When it wasn't picked up by the fourth ring it was automatically transfered out to Josiah's phone. He picked it up.

"Sanchez, ATF, how can I help you."

A voice at the other end quietly answered. "Um, I don't know if you are the person that I need to talk to, my name is Adrian Conner and I know that Mr. Tanner didn't kill Joey."

The phone call and subsequent meeting with Adrian cleared up a lot of the questions that had been hanging over the team all week, now they had proof that someone was, in fact, attempting to frame Vin.

There was some concern that the court would consider the young man to be an unreliable witness, given that he, like his dead partner, had been arrested for prostitution. That concern was laid to rest when he produced the money that he and Joey were paid to set Vin up. He had no reason to lie to help Vin, and about $20,000 reasons to shut his mouth and let Vin pay the price for his silence. He told Josiah that they had only been told to make sure he was caught with a minor in bed. Now, with Joey dead and someone trying to kill him, Adrian had several reasons to come forward, including his regret for framing an innocent man.

After meeting with him outside of Denver, Josiah convinced Adrian to return with him and stay in protective custody until he was safe. And, although he was unable to identify who had hired him, he knew that the reason for the set up was to undermine Vin's upcoming testimony.

That narrowed the possibilities down to one.

Berger was going to be very pissed off when he found out that his frame up had failed, and once the charges were dropped, Tanner's testimony would send him upstate for a long time.

The first call Josiah made after confirming that he did, in fact, have the means to clear Vin's name, was to the apartment where he and Chris were still holed up. Tanner had refused Chris's suggestion that they move out to the ranch, not wanting to lose the advantage of "home territory".

When Chris answered his cell, Josiah gave him the news then held the phone away from his ear as the blond gave voice to his elation.

After getting the basic facts he hung up and entered the bedroom where Vin was napping.

Torn between letting him sleep and waking him, the importance of the information won out. He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked down Vin's cheek, gently brushing the soft strands of hair back.

It only took the light caress to awaken the naturally light sleeper.

He mumbled as he turned, realized it was Chris and groaned, "Told ya ta suit yerself, but that didn't include crawling inta bed with me."

Chris just smiled, waiting to see if their connection still worked. Hoping that Vin would sense the elation he felt.

It didn't take long.

"Yer smilin' like that Cheshire cat, Larabee," he drawled, "so either ya just won the lottery or we got some good news."

"Didn't win the lottery."

"Shame, I's gonna hit ya up for a loan, seein' as I'm outta work just now."

"Guess you'll just have to get your sorry ass back to work, then." He paused, then breathed out the news, "It's over, Vin. We got a kid who was there, says he and the other one were hired to set you up."

Vin hitched himself up against the headboard as Chris spoke, and now, as the full meaning of the words sunk in, he let out a sigh of relief that was tempered by the fact that a teen had been murdered to frame him.

"Why?" He paused as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

"Why would someone do this?"

"We're pretty sure it was Berger," Chris explained, reluctant to admit that he hadn't told Vin about the DA's intention to drop the case, but aware that he had to let Vin know that it wasn't his fault. "The DA was ready to let him off when it looked like your testimony would be tainted by the scandal. The kid knew that they were setting you up to discredit you, he just didn't know who wanted it done."

"And Berger is the only one I am a witness against right now."

Chris nodded. "Don't know if we're gonna be able to get him for the frame, but your testimony is gonna put him away for a long time."

"And that kid was just a pawn..." Vin closed his eyes, taking another deep breath.

"Yeah, pretty much," Chris agreed, "but he did take money to set you up for a nasty sexual scandal, so he wasn't entirely innocent either."

"Didn't deserve to die."

"No, he didn't, but you didn't deserve any of this mess either."

"Guess not."

Chris reached out, rubbing the bent over shoulder, wanting to comfort without pushing. Vin didn't back away so he gently pulled him closer until he was leaning against Chris's chest. He wrapped his arms around the still bruised back and simply held him.

It took a few minutes, but eventually he felt Vin's arms wrap themselves around his waist.

They sat, just holding each other, glad that the nightmare was almost over. A few minutes later Chris heard the soft snores and realized that Vin was asleep...

In his arms, where he belonged.

Now he just had to convince Tanner.

+ + + + + + +

Chris would soon find out that he was wrong, it wasn't over yet.

Not by a long shot.

The team met at their offices the next morning, including Vin who insisted that he was feeling "fine".

Nathan was not happy, neither was Chris, but he knew that Vin needed to be there.

They arrived a little bit late due to Chris's insistance that Vin eat a decent breakfast, he'd lost weight this week but Larabee didn't have any way to force the issue until today. The new agreement was no breakfast, no work. Vin made some obligatory noises about mother hens and bosses who stuck their noses into other peoples dietary habits but, once Chris offered to buy him hotcakes and all the trimmings, he "forced" himself to submit. He might have convinced Chris that he was only complying because he had to, but the half smile that he couldn't quite hide and the fact that he ate a double order of hotcakes belied his words.

The rest of the team was eagerly waiting to offer their congratulations and help with making arrangements for a hearing and, hopefully, a quick resolution. The DA agreed to postpone any actions regarding the Berger case until they had a ruling on the evidence.

AD Travis exerted his influence to arrange a meeting with the judge in charge of arraignments on the following day. After a meeting between the judge and Adrian, all charges against Vin were dropped.

Vin sat there, stunned, was it really over? It seemed so easy...too easy, but then, maybe the universe had finally decided to cut him a break.

Travis had also insisted that the DA call a press conference, declaring that Vin needed to be cleared of the charges in as public a forum as he had been accused in.

Getting Tanner to attend would be another matter altogether...he had always avoided the spotlight as much as possible, but now, after almost two weeks in the public eye, nothing could get him into that room, not even the infamous "Larabee glare".

In the end both Chris and AD Travis attended. They were in agreement and made it very clear to the press that they owed both Vin and the ATF an apology and that it would be as conspicuous as their derogatory stories had been. Knowing that the papers usually hid corrections and retractions in the back of the paper, they enforced their "suggestion" by intimating that any paper that did so would have a hard time getting any details about future agency actions.

The next morning all the papers declared Vin to be the victim of a frame-up and, while claiming that they were, in fact only doing their civic duty by reporting the accusations, they did if only in essence, apologise.

Charles Berger read the headline declaring the ATF agent innocent of the accusations with all charges dropped, and that he had been reinstated at the ATF. His hands shook in anger. His plan had been undone by the teenage prostitute that was supposed to be dead. His men had failed him, the kid had managed to avoid their trap and he had escaped. That alone would have been merely a nuisance, but now the punk had testified. The set up was exposed and Tanner was once again considered a credible witness.

Well, he'd just have to make sure that Tanner didn't live long enough to testify.

By the end of the day Vin was exhausted. His Jeep had been pulled from the police impound, but was a bit worse for wear. They had "searched" the vehicle, and somehow that had included the engine. It was now in need of some essential parts and several days in the shop. So when Chris suggested that he come home to the ranch with him, Vin, despite feeling the need for some time to himself, decided to accept. He knew that he and Chris would have to talk about their relationship soon.

After spending several months "courting" before this incident, they'd been ready to consummate their love. He'd waited for Chris to be ready and now, Chris would have to wait for him. He knew that he loved Chris, but his trust was in shreds at the moment. Maybe some quiet time together was just what they needed.

Maybe not.

It was Thursday so they would have to come in to the office the next day. This would be a chance to find out if they were really ready to spend an entire weekend together. They headed out, stopping only for takeout Chinese, tired, but relieved that the spectre of a trial and potential jail time was gone.

+ + + + + + +

Thursday turned out to be a quiet evening. Vin was still exhausted from his ordeal and knew that the next week would be, if not equally rough, at least a challenge. Testifying in court was one of the least favorite parts of Vin's job. Now that his reputation had been restored and the trial of Charles Berger was a go, they would be starting on Monday. Vin was scheduled to spend a good part of Friday with the DA, they needed to go over the details of his testimony.

That he was unhappy to be spending the day in the company of one of the people who had presumed his guilt was a given. Added to the fact that they had been ready to set a real criminal free, while condemning him, only added fuel to the fire. Just the thought of spending time with these people was making him nauseous.

Chris and Vin ate dinner, half-heartedly watched a movie, more as a means to divert the focus from their own unresolved issues than for any real interest in the show itself. They were both too drained to consider working on those issues quite yet.

They did spend the time cuddled together on the deep sofa, Chris kneading out some of the knots in Vin's perpetually sore back. Turning in early in anticipation of the long day ahead.

One day. Then it would be the weekend.

They would have two full days to spend together. Two days to figure out where their relationship stood, and where it was heading.

And Chris had some pretty definite plans for those two days.

Friday morning arrived, breakfast eaten in comfortable silence. Neither man ever used a lot of words where one or two would do, and when together, the need was further reduced by the fact that they could read each other so well. The fact that this ability had returned boded well for their upcoming "reunion".

Technically, it wasn't a "re" union since they had yet to initiate the first "union", but the fact that they had been on the verge of it when the shit hit the fan made it feel that way.

They drove in together, Chris dropping Vin at his apartment to pick up some clothes and personal items he would want for the weekend, and to bring his Harley in to work. The Jeep would be in the shop for another few days and Vin felt more relaxed when he had his own transportation available. Since they would be on Chris's home turf, he wanted his own means of "escape" if things went south.

By the time Vin was done at the courthouse, his head was pounding and, after forgoing any lunch, his stomach was growling as he returned to the Team 7 office at ten to five.

The rest of the team were upstairs in a meeting with AD Travis, and Vin would have joined them but Chris left a note that suggested to Vin that the meeting would be over by the time he got upstairs. He checked his e-mail and when the phone rang he picked it up. The caller was one of the security people in the main lobby, he had a delivery for Chris, but the guard confirmed that anyone in the office could sign for it, so he headed downstairs. He arrived to find a messenger with a large envelope that contained a file folder. He signed the papers, and then was asked to confirm in writing that the contents were as listed. They opened the file and, as stated on the inventory sheet, found the deed to Chris Larabee's ranch. Vin looked at the man for a moment, wondering why someone would be delivering the document here. When asked, the young man explained that he worked for a bail bond company and that the deed had been posted as a guarantee against a bail. The case had been dropped so, once the court notified the bondsman, the title was returned.

Vin stood there after the messenger left, his breath taken away as he realized what this was. Chris had put his home on the line for him.

He returned to the office, placed the file in his bag, and turned as he heard the elevator open and the sound of six men entering the office.

Buck and JD had declared that the team needed to hold a celebration dinner for Vin, so they all headed to Inez's for an evening not so different from their usual Friday debriefing.

Vin and Chris both ate, but refrained from drinking more than a couple beers. They each had the long drive to the ranch ahead and the added desire to arrive home in a condition that would allow them to fully appreciate the time they had together.

If Buck had been inclined to protest their early departure, it was deferred by the look in Chris's eyes as he rose to go - The message clear to read after more than a dozen years of friendship.

Let it drop, Buck.

The air was crisp, cool, but pleasantly so, although Vin was glad that he had his leathers with him.

A quick stop at the 24 hour grocery for supplies, and they were on their way. They caravanned out, staying in sight of the other's vehicle and taking turns leading. The trip became almost a mating dance, as first Chris, then Vin, then Chris, led the way out of town. It was nearly one when they arrived. Vin parked his bike in an empty stall next to Peso, the weather clear at the moment but the paper claiming that rain was on the way. He then spent a few minutes with the big black, scratching and petting the beast, slipping him a treat or two before checking that both horses had food and water, and heading up to the house.

Chris unloaded the groceries and put them away while Vin was caring for the horses, then headed to the den to check his e-mail and sort the regular mail he'd pulled from the box on his way in.

Vin found him there and entered silently, watching from a spot near the door, thinking about how much trust it took for Chris to put his home on the line. As Chris logged off and leaned back in the big leather office chair, Vin pushed off from the wall and moved, closing the gap between them. He leaned over the back of the chair and ran his hands through the tawny gold locks as he kissed the velvety lips. Chris opened to the tongue that slid along his lips, the sensation sending shivers of desire racing through him. Without losing contact Vin moved around to the side of the chair and draped himself over the warm, tantalizing body. They clung together, tongues dueling, tasting and testing, then moved gradually from their exploration of mouths, out and down to find soft nooks under the earlobes, along the jawline and around collarbones. Shirts were unbuttoned and shifted aside as fingers slid beneath the soft fabric to find the softer flesh beneath.

Before long, the stroking and caressing led to a quivering need that was far too intense to be ignored. The chair too confining for their upcoming activities. A frustrated groan roused Chris.

"God...I want you, Chris...now." Vin's voice a panting drawl.

Chris looked into the dilated eyes, seeing lust and need, but beneath that, the love that they were built upon.

"Then let's move this somewhere a little more comfortable." Chris breathed.

"Mmmm...sounds like a plan," Vin murmured, still latched onto Chris's neck, sucking and licking the skin, leaving a moist trail that caused the blond to shiver as Vin breathed gently on the damp path.

"Um, Vin," Larabee began, laughter in his voice, "you're gonna have to let go for a minute while we move..."

"Don't wanna let go...ever." Vin managed to reply without releasing the nipple he was now latched onto. Chris groaned as the treatment sent a jolt straight to his groin.

"Okay, don't let go, just slide over...that's right." He slid forward on the chair, Vin moving to the side but still attached to his chest. Chris kept one arm around the smaller man as he levered himself up and out of the leather seat. Once they were both standing, more or less, he realized that he would get no help from Vin.

"Looks like we're just gonna have to make this official." Chris smiled as he reached around and scooped the lean man up into his arms. "Now if I can just get us over the threshold before I drop your scrawny ass on the floor..." He turned sideways to get through the door of the den, shifted Vin a bit as they entered the hall and moments later, shifted sideways again to enter the bedroom.

+ + + + + + +

Chris managed to get to the bed before releasing his not-so-light burden. Vin had continued his assault on the inviting body as he was carried out of the den, down the hall, and into the master bedroom. As he'd passed the threshold of the bedroom in

Chris's arms, the symbolism of the act was not lost on Vin, and his sense of humor demanded that he comment on it.

"Doesn't make me the 'wife', Larabee," he growled, barely holding back his grin.

Chris responded in kind. "But you look so much better in a dress than I do, dear."

Vin sat up preparing to show his soon to be lover just who was who, when he saw his bag, the one that Chris had brought in from the truck. He remembered the papers inside and needed to let Chris know that he was aware of, and grateful for, what Chris had done for him.

"Chris," he began, his tone alerting the blond that the mood had just taken an abrupt turn.

"What is it, Vin?" He asked softly, worried they had lost the passion that had driven them from the den.

"Before we go any farther, I need ya to know that what ya done for me..." he paused, emotion taking his voice and threatening to bring tears to his eyes.

Chris looked down at him, touched, and a bit surprised by the naked emotion he saw.

Before he could ask what was up, Vin continued, the raspy drawl breaking as he spoke. "I never had anyone who cared for me the way you do, and when ya put yer house...yer home, on the line for me...." He stopped again, reaching over to pull the deed out of his bag. "A messenger brought this to the office while you were up with Travis, I would'na looked but he made me sign a paper..."

Chris saw the deed and realized that with everything that happened he'd forgotten to pick up the papers after Vin's release. He looked into the blue eyes that revealed just how much this meant to Vin, and realized that Vin had no idea how easy it had been.

"Vin," he began, reaching to take the chin that was sinking towards the beautiful chest and gently raising it to once again meet his eyes, "This house, and I mean house, not home, means nothing to me if you aren't here...you are what makes it a home...you are my heart." He paused, searching the blue depths for comprehension, still finding a shadow of doubt there, he lifted the deed and continued "Vin, I would tear this up, walk out that door, and never look back if that's what it took to convince you how I feel...how much you mean to me...how much I love you." He felt the teardrop hit his arm and realized that it was his own. With no words left, he dropped down onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Vin, whose expression betrayed his utter amazement and gratitude at the words.

They sat there, holding each other, letting the reality of their love for each other wrap itself around them like a warm, silken blanket. Tears of joy and contentment mingled as they kissed. Kisses that spoke of love and commitment, home and family, and finally, based on those other foundations, there was the laughter, passion, and, of course, lust. Lust that would have to wait for tomorrow, as nearly two weeks of stress, insecurity, and emotional and physical exhaustion exerted its influence on them.

They pulled back, both knowing through that special bond that tonight they would sleep, would rest, and recharge their energy supplies. And tomorrow they would celebrate their love and their lust in equal measure. Within minutes of crawling under the thick comforter and molding their bodies together, they slept.

+ + + + + + +

At 6:30 the next morning Vin was awake. As much as he would have liked to sleep some more, his internal clock said otherwise. He turned slightly and could see that Chris was still deeply asleep and decided to leave him that way for a while. He still needed some time to himself, needed to come to terms with everything that had occurred during the past ten days. He slipped out of bed, grabbed his bag and moved out into the hall without a sound.

He used the bathroom off the kitchen, made a pot of coffee and, after filling a large thermal mug, headed out to the barn.

By the time the coffee was gone, he had Peso tacked up and ready to ride. If he wasn't back when Chris woke, the note by the coffee would explain his absence.

An hour later the phone rang.

Chris was still sleeping but managed to pick it up by the third ring. The news wasn't good.

Adrian Conner had been released after his testimony on Thursday since the deal he made granted him immunity from any charges relating to the case. Orrin had offered to help him move somewhere safer or, if he wanted to stay in the area, to help him get a GED and a job but he declined both offers.

This morning his body had been found in an alley near to his apartment.

Fearing that Vin might be accused, Travis was relieved to hear that he had an iron clad alibi.

Finding himself alone in the bed and the house empty, Chris hoped that he hadn't lied to the DA when he'd told him that Vin was with him here at the ranch. After a moment's panic, he found the coffee and the note. He showered, dressed, drank a cup of coffee and cleaned up the kitchen, keeping an eye out the window as he waited for Vin to return.

He knew that Tanner needed the time alone, knew that it would take some of Vin's infamous pondering before he came to terms with recent events. And he knew that the upcoming trial was bothering him.

Vin's testimony was usually just a small part of the evidence in their cases, but this time, he was the one who had gotten inside and the case was almost completely dependent on him. And Berger was one of the people that the team, and the entire ATF, wanted off the streets.

This kind of pressure was bad enough in normal circumstances. After the recent past, Vin would be operating on sheer determination.

When Vin hadn't returned by 10:30 Chris headed down to the barn.

Vin rode all the way to the very back of Chris's property and, passing the fenceline, he entered a section of State Park that abutted the ranch. It was a beautiful day, bright and crisp, the air chilly and the sun just warm enough to take the edge off.

Peso was frisky but not in his usual ornery mood. He was as happy as Vin to be out in the wilderness.

If Vin was going to think on the things that had happened to him, at least here he could do it in surroundings that were tranquil, since his mind was not.

He knew without a doubt that Chris loved him, and that he did trust him...at least about some things. What he wasn't sure about was if Chris really trusted his love, his fidelity.

He'd told Chris that he was gay when he was first interviewed, told him that because he was tired of hiding who he was. At the time he didn't have a lover, but he had been involved in the past, and, while he wasn't actively looking for a relationship at that time he might be if he met the right person.

During the past eight weeks, as they had worked on their relationship, Vin insisted that they move slow, afraid that Chris might jump in before he knew just what he was getting into. Afraid that he would give his heart, then when Chris realized that he couldn't commit himself, Vin would, once again, be hurt.

This week, when Vin needed him, Chris hadn't been there. And Vin needed to know why.

Why, when all the rest had been there, supporting him, helping him, believing him...Chris was missing.

Then he learned that Chris had used his deed to the ranch for bail...Vin was still reeling from that revelation.

Now, after all the time they had spent on this relationship, he felt lost. Felt confused and overwhelmed. One day Chris was cold and distant, the next day he's putting his ranch on the line for him.

He sighed as he realized that his fingers were getting as numb as his brain felt. It was beautiful out in the open, but gradually the cold had seeped into his bones. He wasn't wearing a watch but he could tell by the sun's position that he had been out much longer than he had intended.

Time to head back.

Time to talk to Chris.

Well...maybe he wasn't that cold....

+ + + + + + +

By the time Vin reached the fenceline he was starting to get really cold and was wishing that he'd worn his heavy gloves and another sweater under his coat. Peso whinnied as they came over the next rise and Vin looked up to see Chris and Pony approaching.

He smiled gratefully as the blond arrived and held out the gloves he'd been wishing for.

"You know me too well, Larabee."

"I listened to the weather report..."

When he was about to tell the nearly frozen man just how cold it was Vin stopped him.

"Don't...if I know how cold I really am I might not make it back."

"Let's ride then." Larabee suggested. He'd only been out for a short time and already felt like a snowman.

They made it back to the barn in a short time, and Chris sent Vin into the house to warm up while he tended to the horses.

Vin was too cold to argue. He gave Peso a big chunk of molassas cookie and a hug. He knew that the big black had been happy to be out, even in the cold, but was still sorry to have kept him out quite so long.

He left his heavy coat in the back foyer and headed straight to the bath, a hot shower would begin to take the chill off. He dried off and pulled on a pair of thermal underwear, sweats and heavy socks, then a thermal shirt topped with a warm flannel one and a heavy sweater. Still feeling the chill, he lit the already laid fire in the den and headed to the kitchen.

By the time Chris returned from the barn the fire was roaring, the hot chocolate was ready, and Vin was ensconced in front of the hearth wrapped in a quilt, sipping the sweet, hot, drink. Chris slipped under the edge of the quilt, slipped an arm around the now warm body, and stole a sip of the cocoa. Vin swung his head to deliberately smack the thief with the ends of his still damp hair.

"There's another cup," he drawled, indicating the end table nearby.

"Umm," Chris responded, nuzzling into the damp locks to lick the neck and earlobe, "more fun to share."

They finished both mugs of cocoa, cuddled, but when Chris would have taken it farther, Vin pulled back.

"I want this, Chris..." Vin started, "but before we do I need to know why..." he looked into the green eyes and finished, "why did you believe them...why didn't ya trust me?"

Chris knew that it was a question that he would have to answer and had spent a couple of days thinking about how he would respond. It wasn't any easier now than it would have been a week ago.

He looked back into the blue eyes that demanded his honesty and began to speak. "I've spent a lot of time the last few days thinking about that…and I'm still not sure about all of the reasons, Vin." He paused, knowing that what he said now would affect the rest of their lives together. "I think it was as much about me not trusting myself as much as not trusting you…I saw that picture of the man, the boy...and he was so young and beautiful and I just couldn't believe that you would want me...I'm old, grumpy, I have no experience...you know, sex with a man and all that, and I thought that maybe I was being selfish." He paused, his head down, knowing he had to finish but not sure how Vin would react. He took a breath and was about to continue when he felt Vin's hand on his chin. His head was raised, the green eyes damp as Vin spoke.

"Whatever it is, Cowboy, just say it."

"How can I be so happy, Vin…and I am. When I'm with you I am happier than I can remember for so long, and then I think about Sarah and I wonder if that's right...is it fair for me to have another love, another life..."

He didn't even realize that he had stopped until he felt Vin gently wipe at the tears on his cheeks.

He took Chris in his arms, understanding that it wasn't lack of love, but fear or guilt about that love that caused Chris to pull back. He gently rocked the blond and whispered gentle words.

"I never knew her, Chris, but from everything I've heard about her, things you said, and Buck...I think she'd want you to be happy."

Chris nodded, he knew that. Sarah had wanted everyone to be happy, it was just who she was.

"And as far as you being old and grumpy..." he smiled as he said that, "well I guess that's just what makes me happy…because you make me happier than I've ever been, happier than I ever thought I could be." He leaned in and kissed the tempting lips.

"So I guess this means we're gonna do this..." Chris breathed as they finally pulled back needing oxygen.

"This what ya want?" Vin whispered back.

"More than anything..."

"Then I guess we are..." he stopped as Chris rose, reached down and took his hands and pulled him up.

"But not here," Chris said as he led Vin down the hall towards the bedroom, entered, and pulled him onto the bed, "here!"

+ + + + + + +

Chris reached out and gently pulled the sweater over Vin's head, made a face at the flannel shirt lurking underneath, and groaned at the site of the thermal one beneath that...

"You sure you're really under here somewhere?"

"Was cold..."

"Not anymore." Chris teased as he ran a hand over the bare flesh he'd finally uncovered.

"Ummm…no, getting pretty warm now..." Vin lifted his hips as Chris tugged on the sweats, prepared for the reaction that the thermal leggings would bring.

"Ya know..." he drawled at the glare, "for all your griping about all my layers...you still got a lot of clothes on."

"That can be easily remedied," The Chris responded as he shucked his shirt, then stood and kicked off his boots and shimmied out of the skin tight jeans, underwear sliding down with the denim. "Better?" He climbed back onto the bed and resumed his attack on the final impediments, skimming the thermals down the long, lean, legs and sliding the socks off as he slid each legging over the heels.

They paused then, just looking at each other, twin grins reflecting their mutual approval.

Vin was about to move, figuring that he'd need to take the lead, when Chris stopped him.

"Let me." He asked gently.

"You sure?" Vin asked, wondering at the offer, knowing, as Chris had stated, that he was inexperienced.

Vin was surprised to see a blush creep over the Chris's cheeks as he replied.

"I didn't want to disappoint you...so I bought a couple books and a video..."

Vin stared at Chris, eyes wide in amazement.

"You walked into a store and bought a video and books about gay sex?"

"Uh huh."

"Didn't order it by mail?"

"Didn't want to give out my address..."

"Smarter than ya look..." Vin grinned then and added, "Did ya wear a disguise?"

Chris picked up a pillow and batted his smirking partner with it.

"No, I didn't wear a disguise...but I was probably beet red by the time I paid for them. Okay?"

"More than okay," Vin replied, pulling Chris down and kissing him.

Their lips met, Vin letting Chris take the lead, knowing that it was important to him that the effort he'd made to learn was appreciated, if unnecessary.

It didn't matter to Vin that Chris was new to this, he knew that Chris would adapt, but he was deeply touched that he had taken the time and trouble to do so.

Chris deepened the kisses, exploring the sweet mouth, then meeting and welcoming the answering explorer into his own. They broke for air then Chris began to explore further south, licking and nuzzling down the neck and lean chest to suck on and stimulate the small brown nipples he found.

Vin was writhing as the sensations sent jolts of electricity straight to his groin. Then the lips moved on, tracing a sensuous path across Vin's stomach and down onto his legs. He trembled with need as the hands and mouth traced up the insides of his thighs drawing nearer to his rigid cock.

"Please...Chris..." Vin begged as the sensations threatened to overwhelm him.

Chris looked up, saw the need there and knew it was time to make his move. He reached up, caressing the hard length and moments later reached out with a tentative tongue to taste the man he loved. He inhaled the musky scent as he lapped at the hardness.

Encouraged by the moans coming from above, he opened his mouth and engulfed the glistening head.

As the hot mouth covered him Vin bucked and swore, the sensations were driving him to a level of ecstasy that he had never before attained. He knew that he wouldn't be able to hold out for long and was afraid that Chris wasn't prepared for him to explode in his mouth.

"God...Chris...I'm gonna..."

Chris grabbed the bucking hips and steadied them, pulling back off the head and wrapping his hand around the base and squeezing gently. He knew from his own experience that it would slow Vin down.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to swallow, Vin, but I want you to take me, I want you to come inside me..."

"You don't have to do that, Chris, not now, or even ever, we can do other things..."

"I want to...I want you to do it...and later, after I know more, I want to do it to you."

Vin looked into the eyes that said the same things that the lips were saying and realized that this was what Chris wanted, and what he'd wanted for as long as he could remember. He nodded.

They shuffled positions, Chris reaching over to the bedside stand to grab a tube of KY he'd bought several weeks ago. He handed the tube to Vin and started to turn over but Vin stopped him.

"I want to see your face."

"I read that it was harder this way..."

"Not if we take it slow and easy," Vin replied, "And that's the only way I'll do it the first time...I want you to feel so good you'll never want to stop."

"Sounds good to me." Chris replied, blushing again.

He lay back, letting Vin arrange him on the pillows. He was harder than he could remember being...ever, and Vin hadn't even touched him yet.

That was about to change.

Vin knew that Chris was ready, but tense, and he needed him to relax so he wouldn't hurt him. He stroked the lightly furred chest, drawing his hand down to the groin, running his fingers through the dark blond curls there before sliding his hand up onto the hard shaft. He eased off and squeezed some of the gel onto his hand then returned to the thick member, stroking and pulling. Chris groaned and bucked then Vin reached under with his other hand, cupped and rolled his balls before moving back to rim the puckered opening with a slick finger. The muscle relaxed and he slid inside, still working the hard cock with the other hand, he stretched the opening and added a second finger. He could feel the body beneath him tensing, but in ecstacy and imminent orgasm rather than fear or nervousness. By the time he added the third finger, brushing the gland as he did so, he knew Chris was ready for him. He withdrew his fingers and released the hard cock. He lifted Chris's hips a bit, draping the long legs up on his shoulders as he lined himself up at the entrance. He took a breath then gently pushed in, stopping with just the head inside as he felt the muscle tense around him. Taking the slightly wilting cock back into his hand, he stroked Chris as he let him adjust to the feel of his hardness inside. In just a few moments he could feel the tension leave, hear the sigh and see the smile that crept onto Chris's face.

"Vin..." he breathed, "that feels...amazing."

"Well, pretty good," Vin agreed, "but this," he pushed in more, "this..." and pulled partway back out, "this..." and pushed back in all the way. "This is incredible!"

"Yesssssss," Chris groaned as Vin began to move in a steady rhythm.

Vin took the shaft that felt like velvet over steel and began to pump it in time with his strokes, the pace increasing steadily as his body took over, his long shaft hitting the sensitive gland inside of Chris with each stroke. It was too much for the blond, he erupted with a shout and a gasp, internal muscles clenching as he spurted over Vin's hand. The scent, along with the spasms in the hot tight channel, pushing Vin over the edge moments later.

They collapsed in an untidy heap of arms and legs. Exhausted, and totally content. As their bodies cooled off, Chris surfaced for long enough to pull the comforter over their still entwined bodies and slipped back into a gentle slumber.

+ + + + + + +

A loud rumble woke them a while later.

"You didn't eat anything this morning, did you?" Chris scolded, but softened the tone with a wet, sloppy kiss.

The mumble from behind him sounded completely unremorseful.

"Had other things on my mind." Vin reminded his partner. "You got anything to eat here?"

"I think we can dig up something, after all we need to keep up our energy." Chris smiled seductively as he sat up and reached for a pair of sweats.

"Better find one of them energy drinks fer old folks if yer gonna keep up with me, old timer," Vin tossed back and scooted into the bathroom before Chris could respond.

They headed into the kitchen and dug around in the refrigerator and cabinets and managed to find the ingredients for a pan of lasagne, salad and garlic toast. At Vin's wide eyed stare, Chris admitted that Sarah had forced him to learn how to make a few "decent" meals so she wouldn't have to worry about him while she was in the hospital delivering Adam. He also admitted that he found, on occasion, he actually enjoyed cooking. While Chris put the lasagne together, Vin made the salad and the garlic toast. They worked together in near silence, their 'radar' back in full force.

It was nearly dark by the time they were done and, after a quick trip to the barn to settle the horses for the night, they headed back to the bedroom. When Vin grabbed a bag of Cheetos and some Hershey's Kisses to go with the beer they picked up on their way through the kitchen, Chris rolled his eyes.

"Didn't we just finish dinner?" he asked, eyeing the snacks.

Vin looked at the bags then back at his partner before answering. "Yeah, but it's early and we got a long night ahead of us, don't wanna risk gettin' light headed er nothin'." His grin infectious, Chris sighed and smiled back while shaking his head in amazement.

By the time they reached the bedroom, snacks were the last thing on their minds.

They settled in for the night, each on a mission to learn the intimate details about the other.

Chris found that if he licked around Vin's ribs, it caused a shiver up Vin's spine that left him helplessly giggling, but when the caress went into his navel, that tremor went directly to his groin.

Meanwhile, Vin was finding a few sensitive spots on Chris's long, lean body, including the spot just behind his knees that nearly sent him through the roof.

And they made love.

Sweet and slow, then, fast and hard, and in every variation that they could find between.

Between the bouts of passion they napped. Or simply lay entwined together, awake, but sated, content to just hold each other for a while.

Eventually they headed into the large shower stall. Both men were sweaty and smelling more than a little ripe. That venture soon became an erotic foray in itself as the hot water and soapsuds running down Vin's body suddenly sent a lightning bolt of desire straight up Larabee's spine and before Vin was even aware of it, having his eyes closed to keep the soap out of them, Chris was on his knees worshiping Vin's shaft with his mouth and tongue.

As the sun rose on Sunday morning, they were contentedly cuddled in the wasteland that normally looked like a bed. The comforter wrapped around their lax bodies, the rest of the bedding strewn around the room like leaves after a fall windstorm.

Vin woke slowly, finding himself embraced from behind, Chris's arms wrapped around his waist, one hand resting on his abdomon, the other laying on his chest, fingertips brushing Vins right nipple.

He turned his head and found the mouth that had been nuzzling his neck and gently licked the soft lips.

Those lips responded as if from years of practice, rather than one afternoon and one night of reckless abandon.

"Mmmm…" was the only verbal response.

They stayed abed a while longer until several bodily needs made themselves abundantly clear.

"Shower..." Chris mumbled as he staggered toward the bath.

"Coffee..." was Tanner's morning siren's call.

"Pitstop..." they said in unison, heading for the commode.

They ate toast with the coffee Vin made, Chris making the obligatory noises about the ultra-strong brew that the Texan was famous for, but noticing that he was actually starting to enjoy the dark concoction.

A fact that he would never consider admitting to the younger man.

They headed down to the barn after breakfast, feeding and grooming Pony and Peso. They toyed briefly with the idea of a ride, but thought better of it, using the temperature as an excuse rather than either one admitting an inability to sit in a saddle comfortably today. Then they both looked at the other and began to laugh at the shared ruse.

"Shut up, Larabee," Vin groused at the blond's laughter, "you couldn't sit on Pony any better'n I can on Peso."

"Yeah," Chris admitted, "but it's still funny... just hope none of the guys come by and asks why we're walking so stiff."

Vin looked up then, eyes wide, realizing that possibility. "Oh, shit...ya think they're coming out here today?"

Chris shook his head, knowing that the others had plans and that they knew not to stop in unexpectedly, not this weekend. He was kind of amused by the panic in Vin's eyes at the thought of Nathan or JD commenting on their tender states, but reassured him before he really got upset.

"No, Vin, no one is coming out today."

He frowned, hating to have to bring it up, but knew that Vin would want to be told.

"There is something that you need to know," Chris started, his voice serious, alerting Tanner. "I got a call yesterday, they found the other kid, Adrian - dead."

Vin blanched at the news, unable to surpress the feeling that, somehow, he was responsible for that death. But Chris knew him well enough to realize that he would feel that way and was determined to set him straight.

"Vin, there is no way that this is your fault, those boys took money set you up," he paused, checking to make sure the stubborn Texan was listening. "We tried to help him, move him somewhere else, give him a new start somewhere, but he refused."

"Know that, just feel bad that they got caught in the middle of all this, they were just kids."

"I know...but I also know that your testimony is going to put that bastard away for a long time, and even if we can't convict him for what he did to them, he will be behind bars."

"Hope so."

They finished up in comfortable silence and headed back to the house.

+ + + + + + +

They headed to bed early Sunday, both having an early day coming up, Chris, at the office and Vin in court.

Their lovemaking gentle and easy, like they had been together for months instead of for one glorious weekend.

Chris woke, reaching out to find an empty bed. He turned and found a fresh cup of coffee on the nightstand.

A noise brought his head back up to see Vin standing by the small sofa at the end of the room. He was wearing a pair of tight black jockeys and leaning over to pull up a pair of skin tight, black leather pants. He shimmied his hips just a little as he slid into the pants that made his usual black jeans seem loose by comparison.

The sound of indrawn breath brought Vin's head up and around to meet the green eyes as they ignited.

He smiled wickedly. "Sorry, Chris, didn't mean to wake ya."

Chris just continued to stare, the leather pants and bare chest sending a jolt of liquid fire down his spine. He gasped for air as the embodiment of pure, raw sensuousness stared back at him, completely unaware of the effect he was having on Chris's composure.

Then he grinned and Chris realized that maybe he wasn't so unaware of the effect he was creating.

"God, Vin..." Chris breathed out, his body burning as it never had before.

"Something ya need, Chris?" Vin drawled as he calculated just how much time he actually needed to get to town, change into his suit, and get to the courthouse.

There was enough.

He sauntered over to the bed, the leathers up, but unfastened, chest and feet bare.

Vin had barely reached the bed when Chris rose up, standing in front of him...naked, hard and ready. He reached around with both hands and ran them over the leather clad mounds of Vin's ass, reveling in the feel of the buttery leather then, reaching the waistband, slid his hands down inside the pants and jockeys, hands snug between the warm cheeks and the softly lined leather.

Chris's moan, along with the feel of the hands caressing his buttocks, sent a shiver of desire racing through Vin's senses.

"Chris...please...take me...now!"

Chris didn't hesitate, there was nothing in the world he wanted more. He slid the pants down, marveling at the feel of the leather as it slid over the taut muscles of Vin's ass and thighs.

"Shit, Vin, these things should come with a warning."

"Mmm, they are just a bit, ahhhh..." he was rendered speechless as the hands that had peeled down the leathers came round and caressed his shaft.

Chris swung the slighter man around and down onto the bed, leather pants still encasing his lower legs. Mounting the bed next to the now writhing man, Chris leaned down and licked the swollen member, swirling his tongue around the head then taking it into his mouth.

Vin bucked as the hot mouth engulfed him, his legs still trapped in the leather pants making the experience all the more intense as Chris's hands moved in to caress the base of his shaft and then moving lower to roll his balls gently before moving back to slide between his cheeks.

One hand disappeared for a moment then returned, coated with a generous portion of the lube that sat nearby, the damp slickness sending him even closer to the edge as Chris used it to coat his cock and balls, then the fingers moved back to rim his hole. It was all he needed, his body jerked, then spasmed and he was coming in ragged spurts...and Chris was still there, taking it in, swallowing as if it was the sweetest nectar he'd ever tasted.

He gradually became aware of Chris holding him, kissing him gently as his breathing slowed, and he nodded his readiness as the fire in the green eyes sent a renewed ache to his groin.

They peeled the leathers off and Chris knealt between his newly freed legs. Working first one, then a second, and a third finger into the tight hole until the muscles relaxed, Chris readied Vin for his entrance. When Vin growled his need, Chris pushed himself into the tight channel, pausing long enough for Vin to accept him, then thrusting, slowly and gently for the first few strokes, then as the body beneath him began to respond he moved faster, pushing deeper and deeper into the hot depths.

It didn't take long, both men thrusting hard and long, Chris hitting the gland inside over and over as he cried out his completion, and Vin, barely recovered from his earlier orgasm following almost immediately. They collapsed onto the remains of the bed, sucking in air as their muscles shook from the intensity of the experience.

They napped for a few minutes before realizing that the real world was calling and they raced to the shower, and dressed, Chris carefully avoiding the temptation to look as Vin once again shimmied into the leathers and headed to their respective vehicles.

Chris took the Ram, heading for the office, and ten minutes later, after a quick trip to the barn to feed the horses, Vin sat astride his Harley, heading to his apartment to change into attire more appropriate for his testimony against Charles Berger.

+ + + + + + +

Deputy Dan Fullman sat in his cruiser watching the two lane road, his radar gun rested against the dash as he waited for the next vehicle to come into range. The speed trap was one of those duties that none of the men really liked, but all took their turn in relatively good grace, and Dan really didn't mind it too much, especially when it meant being out on a beautiful sunny morning.　

He had clocked the big black Ram at an even 55 and then a small red import at 57, over the limit, but not enough to bother with a stop. He was parked behind a screen of small fir trees, unseen by any of the drivers he had checked this morning and had not written a single ticket in the half hour he'd been there when he heard the throaty roar of the Harley's approach. He sat up, expecting to see a higher number in the display and was disappointed when the LED numbers read a mere 54 MPH. He would get the one biker who obeyed the speed limit.

The leather clad rider was barely past when a white van came over the rise behind him, and he was definitely going more than 55. Dan raised the radar gun and was just calling in his reading and license number when the van sped up even more, closing the gap to catch up to the Harley, and before Dan could even register what was happening, the van had pulled up beside the biker and rammed into him with the larger, heavier vehicle. He was deliberately running the biker off the road. The bike left the pavement, tumbled down the grassy embankment, the rider flying off to one side as the bike continued to tumble, landing against the rocky hill farther down and expolding on impact.

The van slowed, then sped up and headed down the road.

Dan quickly called in to the dispatch reporting his location, what had occurred and requested an ambulance. He stated his intention to pursue the van, then headed after the culprit, hoping as he did so that the EMT's arrived in time to help the biker. A part of him wondered if he should have stopped to see if he could help, but knew that if the man was as badly injured as he likely was, after being thrown from the motorcycle at 55 MPH, his basic medical training would do little to help and he really wanted to catch the bastard in the van who had so casually run another vehicle off the road.

+ + + + + + +

Vin was enjoying his trip into town. It was a beautiful day, he'd just spent the most amazing weekend of his life with the man he'd come to love over the past months, and had started the day with hot, steamy sex that made him ache just to think about it. He sighed and decided to change the subject of his thoughts before he ended up in a state not fit to be seen in the tight leathers, smiling slightly as he remembered the effect they had on his lover. He needed to get to his apartment and change for his court appearance, and knew that he would probably be tied up all day and maybe tomorrow, too.

He passed the spot where the local deputies sat with their radar hoping to catch an unaware speeder, making made sure to keep his speed under the posted 55 MPH until he was well out of range of the device, when he heard the loud engine approaching from behind him. Some idiot who obviously didn't know where the speed traps were. He eased over to the edge of the road, sensing that the vehicle was going fast enough that he would be passing him momentarily.

Then the van was next to him, the man in the passenger seat looking at him as the van swerved over, and before he could react, the van ran into his bike.

Then he was flying off the road.

He realized that he and the bike were airborne, and remembered, as time seemed to move in slow motion, that he'd been told by numberous riders that it was safer to let go of the bike, that if it flipped he didn't want to be underneath. He let go and pushed away from the bike as it tumbled down the embankment, he was vaguely aware of the bike continuing on as he glimpsed a stand of small trees approaching fast, then there was only blackness.

+ + + + + + +

An hour later, the DA was pacing outside the courtroom. It was time to start and his main witness was a no show. He swore as he headed for the phones to call the ATF offices and find out where the hell Tanner was.

+ + + + + + +

Dan Fullman headed after the white van. It was out of sight before he had gotten started, but he knew that there were very few turnoffs ahead and he had sent out an alert with the pertinent information. He was determined they would catch this guy.

Ten minutes later he got a call on his radio, another unit was closing in on the van. He sent back a warning that the men inside might be dangerous, and minutes later they were in custody. He arrived at the scene of the arrest just as the two handcuffed men were being placed in the other cruiser.

He leaned in the window and looked the driver in the eyes. "You'd better pray that the biker lives, because I saw you run him off the road. If he dies you'll be charged with murder." He stood back and watched the car pull away. He called in to dispatch and asked for permission to head to the hospital to find out the condition of the biker, and headed out after getting the okay.

When he arrived he found out that the biker was alive and still in the ER. He checked with the head nurse and was given the man's effects. He opened the wallet and was surprised to find out that the man was an ATF agent, and even more surprised when he recognized the name. This was the man who had been in the news just last week. Now it seemed that the story about his frame up to prevent his testimony might just be true, and now someone had tried once again to interfere. He found the phone number for the ATF and headed for the phones.

Chris Larabee had just hung up the phone. The DA had been livid, Vin was late for court, and Chris was feeling a bit guilty, thinking that their morning interlude had delayed Vin's arrival. He was reaching for the phone to call him and urge him to hurry when it rang once again.

"What now..." he groaned as he reached for the reciever. "Larabee," he answered, then listened, his heart beating rapidly as an unfamiliar voice asked if he was the leader of team 7, and if Vin Tanner was one of his men.

"Tanner is on my team, who is this?" he replied as fear ripped through his entire being. The phrasing of the questions seemed all too chillingly familiar.

By the time that Dan had identified himself and the reason for his call, Chris was grabbing his coat and keys and heading out the door. As he flew through the office he called out to Buck. "Call the DA, Buck, tell him that Vin was run off the road on his way in to court this morning. Have him ask for a continuance, I'm heading to the hospital," his voice shook as he continued, "I'll call when I know something."

Everyone in the office was stunned as Chris ran through and disappeared into the elevator.

"Oh, God," JD cried out. "Not Vin, not again."

Buck picked up the phone and let the DA know what was happening and then they headed out, needing to be at the hospital for Vin, and for Chris.

Chris arrived at the ER in record time, having broken nearly every traffic law on the books, and not caring a shit about it either. He parked the Ram and ran into the building, dodging various patients and medical personnel as he flew past. The nurse at the desk saw him coming, having been there for past incidents involving team 7 and knowing that the blond storm front that was approaching would take no prisoners. She called Dan over and ran back to find an attending doctor to update him on Tanner's condition.

Dan reacted quickly when the nurse in charge waved him over. He looked over in the direction that she was pointing and saw the grim faced man in black approaching at a fast pace and moved to intercept him.

"I'm Deputy Fullman," he introduced himself, "I believe we spoke on the phone a few minutes ago."

"Chris Larabee," the blond snapped back, "Where is Vin?" He moved past the deputy as if he didn't exist, heading for the cubicals where the incoming patients were treated.

"I don't think you are allowed back there." Dan tried to divert the man before he reached the area, but by then the nurse had returned with one of the doctors who had been tending to the injured man. He had taken care of several of the men over the past couple of years and was well aware of the leaders concern when one of his men was being treated.

"Mr. Larabee," he began, standing in front of the man, thus stopping his forward movement, knowing that the information he had would serve to delay the need for him to actually see the man for at least a few minutes, thus giving the team inside a while more to treat the injuries.

"Mr. Tanner is alive, and, considering the circumstances of his trip here today, I think he is very lucky to be in that state. In fact, while he has a number of serious injuries, I think all in all he is in pretty good shape." He paused, wanting to make sure he had Larabee's full attention. "According to the medical team at the scene, his fall was broken by the bushes and trees that he was thrown into, and aside from a dislocated shoulder, some serious bruising on his left kidney and several nasty gashes, the worst injury we are taking care of is a bad puncture where a branch penetrated his chest near his left collarbone. He lost a lot of blood and will need some surgery to repair the area, but he should regain full use of the arm."

"I want to see him," Chris demanded, knowing already by the doctor's look that he would have to wait, he still had to try.

"It will be a while before they are through. You can see him when he is out of surgery, I believe that you know where the waiting area is."

Chris nodded, knowing that nothing he could do or say would change the doctor's mind. He also knew one other thing...Vin was alive, and in the end, that was all that mattered.

"I'll be waiting," he stated, and headed for the waiting area.

By the time Chris reached the waiting room, the rest of the team had arrived and were patiently waiting for him to update them on Vin's condition.

Well, as patiently as team 7 ever waited for answers in a hospital waiting room....

Nathan was interrogating the duty nurse while Ezra, having slipped into a white coat he "borrowed" from a conveniently located closet, was working his way closer to the cubical where Vin was being treated, hoping to get some first-hand information. JD was pacing the room, followed by Buck who was trying to get him to find a free computer terminal and hack into the hospital's system and find out how Vin was, while Josiah had headed to the chapel to see if he could find a robe that would fit him so he could freely wander into the treatment area.

Unfortunately for the team, the hospital personnel were well aware of their various techniques and soon had the entire team corralled back in the waiting area. The main duty nurse tried to look stern as she lectured Chris, once again, about hospital policies, but he was well aware of her soft spot for the team and let it flow into the left ear and straight out the right one, nodding in all the appropriate spots and watching the door for the doctor to reappear with any additional information at the same time. She finally finished the well-practiced lecture and shook her head as she realized that the only person who had actually heard what she had said was probably herself and, given the number of times she had recited it to this particular group, she wasn't even sure if she herself was listening anymore. It was, however, a rather soothing ritual that seemed to at least calm the staff a bit, regardless of its non-effect on the six men who had taken up residence there.

It took the doctors another forty minutes to stabilize Vin enough to move him up to the operating room, he was still unconscious, but the doctor allowed Chris a few minutes with him before they moved him upstairs.

He entered the cubical, aware that there were still several members of the medical team present monitoring the numerous readouts on the beeping and blinking machines that filled the room. Vin lay pale and still, attached to the machines by several tubes and wires. His leathers, having been cut from his body, lay in a heap in the corner, bloody and torn, a grim reminder of how the day had begun. He reached out, taking Vin's slack hand in his own shaking one, shocked at how cold and lifeless it felt, remembering the warmth it had carried earlier as it had caressed him. He barely had time to whisper Vin's name when the doctor returned and they wheeled the bed out, heading for the surgical wing.

"Don't worry, Chris," the doctor called to him as he hurried out of the room, "we'll take good care of him."

And then they were gone.

Chris reached down to pick up the discarded leather clothing, grimacing at the amount of blood that coated them. One of the nurses approached with a plastic bag and helped him load them into it, they were beyond repair, but in that moment, Chris vowed that by the time Vin was ready to wear them again, he would have a new set made for him. He took the old ones, needing to have something of Vin to hold onto during the next few hours, and after that, in order to make sure the new set fit as well as the old ones had.

He returned to the waiting area, gathered the team, and they all headed upstairs to yet another waiting area, this one in the surgical wing. He vaguely wondered why they called it a wing when it was just a different floor, but his mind was simply too numb to deal with the vagaries of hospital labels.

It was a long afternoon.

The surgery, which was originally estimated to last for about an hour and a half to two hours, lasted over four hours, and by the time the doctor came out to tell them that Vin was in the recovery area everyone's nerves were frayed.

Chris was ready to climb the walls.

"There was a bit more internal bleeding than we realized and it took a while to find and repair all the injuries. His kidney is badly bruised, but we hope that with rest and some time it will recover fully. The shoulder was pretty well torn up and we had to do some major repairs, it will have to be immobilized for several weeks and will require some intensive physical therapy but again, with time and patience, he should make a full recovery. He also has severe bruising over a good portion of his body and will be in a lot of pain for the next few days, but all in all, he's a very lucky young man."

"When can we see him?" Chris asked, wanting the answer to be now, but knowing from past experience it would likely be later.

"He'll be in surgical ICU for the next few hours, at least until he comes around. Once he's settled in, one person may sit with him at a time."

"Thanks, doc," Chris nodded as he ran a hand through his already mussed hair. "We appreciate all that you've done."

"My pleasure, not that I prefer to have to piece you guys back together on a regular basis, but I guess that's better than the alternative...I'll be checking in on him regularly, and a nurse will let you know when you can go in." He turned and walked away.

Chris sank into one of the less than comfortable chairs that lined the small room, dropping his head into his hands and letting out the breath that he felt like he'd been holding for the past four hours.

Vin was alive and, given time, should recover completely.

And right now, that was all that mattered.

It was only a short time before a nurse came and asked who was going to sit with Vin first, no one in the waiting area had any doubt as to who that would be.

As Chris rose to leave he turned to Buck.

"You and the guys might as well head home," he paused, then looking up at all the men, continued, "thanks for being here, I'm going to stay until Vin comes around. If you want to help, find out who did this..."

There were nods and murmurs as they headed out, but Chris didn't see or hear them, he was intent on his destination. ICU, and Vin.

As Buck and JD reached the lot and were about to get into Buck's truck they saw a county vehicle drive up.

"Hey, Dan," Buck called out as the deputy got out.

Dan turned and headed towards them as Josiah, Nathan, and Ezra saw him and joined them.

"What's up?" JD asked as Dan and the rest all converged on the truck.

"I just got off duty and thought I'd see how Vin is doing."

Buck replied, "He just got out of surgery. He's pretty beat up, but they think he's gonna be all right, Chris is up with him. We were just about to head over to your station, what do you know about the guy who hit him?"

Dan smiled then, "Well, actually, we have the men in custody and I've checked their records, I'm pretty sure that they didn't do this on their own. They are hired help, and I'm thinking that with the right kind of pressure..."

"We can get them to talk," Buck finished.

"Yeah," Dan agreed. "They aren't the brightest bulbs on the tree if you know what I mean."

"And we've got a pretty good idea of who hired them...I take it that a little "federal pressure" might just loosen their tongues?"

"Yeah, something like that. What's on your schedule tomorrow?"

Buck smiled then, a big, toothy, feral smile. "I think I have a pressing appointment at the local sheriff's office...8 A.M.?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, see you then," Dan called back as he headed towards his car.

Upstairs Chris had followed the nurse into the small room, it was the usual ICU set up, small and full of steel and plastic. Machines were beeping and blinking and Vin seemed even slighter and younger as he lay amidst the tubes and wires.

To say that he was pale wouldn't be particularly accurate since most of his body was covered in deep purple bruises, but the parts that weren't brightly colored seemed all that much paler by contrast. There was a large bandage over most of his left collarbone covering the area where the branch had pierced first the leather jacket, then the long sleeved t-shirt before gouging a deep hole in his flesh. Chris stared at the bandage and realized that the same branch, had it hit just a few inches lower and to the right, might have proven to be instantly fatal. There were other bandages and several rows of dark sutures where other gashes had been closed up, and there was a splint on the left wrist where an x-ray had revealed a fracture.

"Damn, Cowboy," Chris whispered, "you sure got yourself in a mess this time."

He took a deep breath and reached out, knowing by the sounds of the various machines that Vin was alive, but needing to feel the heartbeat for himself. Vin felt warmer than he had earlier, but he was so still that a chill ran down Chris's spine.

He sat then, holding Vin's hand, and as the nurse had encouraged, spoke softly, defying his nature in his need to reach out, to let Vin know he was not alone, not anymore, not ever again.

+ + + + + + +

About the same time that Buck and the others entered the sheriff's office for the interrogation, the nurses kicked Chris out into the waiting area while they changed Vin's bed and bandages.

He gratefully accepted yet another cup of coffee from the pot the nurses kept in the alcove near the duty station, and reached into his back pocket for his cell phone, remembered that they weren't allowed in the hospital, and headed for the pay phones.

He was frustrated when he couldn't reach any of the team, not knowing that they were tied up with the suspects and had turned their own phones off, so he paced. Wanting to get out and walk off the nervous

energy that was intensified by the ingestion of massive doses of caffeine, but not wanting to leave the vicinity of the ICU. Vin could come around at any time and he was determined to be there when he did.

He was surprised a little while later when Buck arrived, the rest of the team at his heels, all of them wearing smiles.

"We got him, Chris," Buck announced, "for Vin, and for the murders of those two boys. He's gonna fry!"

+ + + + + + +

Buck went on to explain how they had spent the morning interrogating the two men who had run Vin off the road.

Once they realized that they had been seen by a deputy and would be charged with murder, after Buck had conveniently let them believe that they had succeeded in their attempt, they had nothing to lose and everything to gain by turning on their employer. Given the incentive of lighter sentences and better facilities they had quickly outlined not only the plan to run Vin off the road the previous day, but how they had assisted in the initial set up and the deaths of the two teens. As Dan had stated, these weren't the smartest criminals to be found, which made Josiah, in particular, wonder why a man like Charles Berger would employ them. He certainly had the funds to hire smarter, more efficient henchmen.

Chris asked if they were keeping the men in protective custody. Given the deaths of the two teens, it was likely that once Berger found out about the men's betrayal, they too, would become targets.

Dan assured him that they would be safe and that the DA would be in court later that day to ask the judge to revoke the bail and place Berger in custody, and to add the charges of conspiracy to commit murder and several lesser charges to the already pending ones.

They all felt relieved at the chain of events, but not one of them would feel totally reassured until the man was actually behind bars.

Buck and Josiah stayed to spend a little bit of time with Vin, trying to convince Chris that a shower and a meal would do a lot to restore his spirits, so while Buck "dragged" the reluctant man to the doctor's locker room, then to the cafateria, Josiah sat with the still unconscious Tanner.

If Buck had thought that JD's infamous five minute showers were some kind of record, he had to reevaluate that opinion as Larabee managed to finish in just over three. He still intended to make sure that Chris ate, and again only accomplished the deed by coercion and sheer persistance. Not that he managed to actually get much food into the man. After sitting down with the tray of food Buck had insisted upon, Chris had taken several obligitory bites, drank yet another cup of coffee and was pushing his chair back, ready to return to Vin's side before Buck had even unwrapped his sandwich.

"C'mon, Chris," Buck ground out, "you can't live on coffee and nerves and expect to be of use when Vin wakes up."

"I know, Buck, but I just need to be there, I promised him that I'd be there when he woke up and I intend to keep that promise."

Buck sighed, shaking his head. He knew that there wasn't a thing he could say or do to keep Chris away from the room where Vin lay. He reached over and slid Chris's tray to his side of the table and handed Chris his still wrapped sandwich.

"Here..." he looked Chris in the eye, "and you EAT this...if I find it in a trash can I'm gonna...hell, Chris, I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'm gonna be really pissed off and I'm gonna tell Vin that you didn't eat..."

He was cut off then as Larabee leveled his famous glare at him, them let it drop and, taking the sandwich, dropped his other hand on Buck's shoulder.

"Thanks, Buck...or should I say dad...I promise to eat the sandwich. I just gotta get back up there."

Buck nodded. "I'll stop up and see ya before I go." He finished the sentence despite the fact that Chris was long gone, heading for the elevators...and Vin.

Upstairs, Josiah had spent the short break sitting next to Vin, his deep voice softly reciting some favorite verses from an obscure sect of an equally obscure religion, but the rich voice and the tempo were more important that the actual words, and the soothing sounds filled the room as Chris returned.

He moved to the other side of the bed, watching as Vin slept, wondering if any of what he or Josiah had said had gotten through to him. Afraid, as time passed and Vin didn't wake up that maybe the doctors were wrong. Maybe he wouldn't ever wake up. That he wouldn't open those blue eyes that had come to mean so much, had come to mean everything to him. He jumped when Josiah placed his big hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even noticed that the man had stopped speaking or that he had risen and circled the bed to stand beside him.

"He's going to be fine, brother Larabee," Josiah said softly, with an assurance in his tone that Chris wished that he could believe in as strongly as the big man obviously did.

"I hope you're right, Josiah, "he whispered, "I hope to God, you're right."

After Josiah and Buck left, Ezra, Nathen and JD all stopped by to see how Vin was doing, none of them happy about the fact that he was still unconscious. Chris convinced them that he was fine staying there with Vin and no, he didn't need any company.

At least no company that wasn't a scruffy, blue-eyed Texan.

He sighed as the last visitor left and returned to the bedside. He lifted the lax hand once again and wrapped it in his own, wishing with everything in him that Vin could feel him, would know he was there.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, he knew that it was sometime after the nurses did their late night check. Then it was morning, or at least it felt like morning, since the ICU had no windows he wasn't sure, but when he lifted his head he was looking into a pair of blue eyes.

"Vin..." he breathed, not completely sure that he wasn't still dreaming.

"Hey, Cowboy," the soft, raspier than usual voice responded. Vin tried to shift in the bed and stopped almost immediately as the pain in his shoulder and, he realized with a gasp...just about everywhere else, made itself known.

"Damn," Vin breathed out with a hiss. "I got any parts that don't hurt?"

"Don't think so..." Chris supplied, "so you'd better just stay still and do what the doctor says.

"Yeah...like you always do," Vin snapped back, but Chris noticed that he was no longer trying to move.

Chris leaned over and kissed Vin gently, first on the lips, then on the forehead, whispering as he held the bruised face between his hands. "Thought I'd lost you."

Vin felt the tear hit his cheek and knew just how scared Chris must have been. He looked into the green eyes that were still full, his breath taken away to see how much love was evident there.

"Ain't going nowhere without ya, partner," he whispered back, noticing that one of the nurses had entered and not caring what she saw or heard.

She gave them a minute, then insisted that Chris leave while she took care of Vin's morning abulations. Vin's look told Chris that he'd rather have Chris stay and the nurse leave, but Chris knew that the hospital was already bending about a dozen rules and wasn't about to antagonize the nurses. He stood, leaned down for a final soft kiss, whispering something the nurse couldn't hear, and left the room.

"Good morning Vin," she said as Chris left, "my name is Annie and I'll be your nurse for this shift, now, lets get that gown off so we can give you a bath."

Chris called Buck at the office with the news that Vin was awake and could hear the cheers over the phone as Buck let the others know the good news.

He ran down to the expresso stand in the lobby and grabbed a cup of coffee and headed back up to Vin's room. He ran into the doctor in charge as he approached and learned that they would be moving him to a regular room later in the day.

Vin was asleep by the time he returned, but the nurse reassured him that it was what he needed for his body to heal. He sighed and sat by the bed to wait some more. At least he knew, now, that Vin would wake up.

Back at the office Josiah took the phone when the DA called. He had interviewed the men who had run Vin off the road and found out that Berger himself had not hired them, they had been contacted by another man who told them he worked for Berger.

The slimy son of a bitch was going to get away with it. They couldn't prove that he had any connection to the men at all. The men didn't know the full name of the man that they had dealt with, only that he was called Frankie and they contacted him by leaving a note with a certain bartender at an uptown club.

Buck looked at Josiah, who had put the phone on speaker mode as soon as he knew who was on the line.

"Looks like Junior's gonna have to testify after all, at least we can still get him on the original charges."

"Yeah," Nathan cut in, "if we can keep him alive and get him into the courthouse in one piece."

Buck shook his head. "Chris is gonna go ballistic."

"That's a sure bet," Ezra agreed. "Who among us will have the honor of informing our leader of this disturbing development."

They all looked at Buck.

And Buck looked back at them. "Why me?"

JD snickered and turned back to his computer terminal. "Cause you've got the least chance of being shot."

"That's comforting..." Buck moaned. "Well, at least I'll have another chance to talk to that new nurse."

The others just shook their heads and went back to work, glad that it was Buck heading to the hospital and not themselves.

+ + + + + + +

Vin had been in his new room for two days, he was still sleeping most of the time and despite not being in critical condition, still had a long recovery ahead.

Chris was still unwilling to leave for more than an hour or two, long enough to shower, check in at the office and grab some food before returning. And only when one of the others was available for "guard duty".

Berger was still out on bail since no new charges had been made, he was too smart to have hired the men who had attacked Vin personally and Chris was convinced that Vin was still in danger. The rest of the team agreed with him.

It was just past ten p.m. when the night nurse, who had just come on duty, was making her rounds, checking to see that all her patients were settled in for the night. She entered room 1117 after scanning the information on the chart. She was just returning to work after being off duty for the last two days, and this was the first time that she would be seeing this patient. Sue entered quietly, not wanting to wake the man inside if he was already asleep. The room was quiet, the only light on the dim nightlight above the headboard. The longhaired patient seemed to be sleeping quietly, but she decided to check the output from his catheter before leaving. She started around the end of the bed and nearly screamed as a man rose from behind the bed.

"Who are you and what are you doing in here?" she demanded, her voice a loud, and slightly shaky, whisper.

The tall man wearing dark clothes held up his empty hands in a gesture meant to reassure the startled nurse.

"Larabee," he whispered back, and slowly pulled out an ID card and badge. "ATF, this is my partner," he paused, gesturing towards the bed, "there may be people still trying to kill him so the hospital has been letting me or one of my men stay here..." He gestured to the cot he'd been lying on. It was pushed up next to the bed the patient slept in, but was not visible from the door. "Sorry to scare you, they were supposed to have a note on his chart."

The nurse relaxed somewhat and, after checking again, found the notation on the chart.

"Okay, Mr. Larabee," she breathed out, "I just want to check on his output then I'll let you get back to sleep."

"I won't be sleeping... not while he's in danger," he nodded to Vin, "but if you have any fresh coffee out there I'd be grateful for a cup."

"No problem." Sue smiled then, not missing the fact that both men were quite good looking and neither seemed to be wearing a wedding band. "You probably know where it is, just help yourself...and let me know if you need anything."

With that she finished her work and headed for the door, taking a good long look at the handsome blond as she did so.

Chris sighed, deciding to wait a bit before fetching more coffee, and sank down onto the low cot.

A soft, amused voice rose from the bed above.

"Think she likes ya, Larabee..."

Chris grinned, remembering the leer she'd given him as she left the room. "Shut up and go to sleep, Tanner."

"Hope she likes 'em bossy," the soft voice commented.

They settled in for the night, Vin drifting off, right hand cradled in Chris's hand that had snaked up through the side bars of the bed.

+ + + + + + +

The last two days had been frustrating for Charles Berger. He'd spent a lot of money over the last couple years, money that several policemen in the 14th precinct had accepted in return for certain "services". Now, when he'd called upon one of those men to perform one of those services, he had, rather than doing it himself, hired a pair of useless idiots who had not only failed in their mission, but had also been caught, and once in custody, had ratted out the ones who had paid for their services.

This would not do at all. The first thing he did was to arrange a meeting with Frank Rabson, the man who had delegated the job to the two men who had made such a mess of a simple contract. Rabson was informed at that meeting that he was expected to clean up his mess, and to do it soon.The two men he'd hired had to be silenced, and that if it wasn't done soon, and efficiently, the crooked cop would regret it.

Then he made another decision. He had paid for two attempts to deal with the ATF agent whose testimony would send him to jail, both had been delegated, and both had failed. This time, he realized, he would have to take matters into his own hands. He simply couldn't afford another fuck up. He smiled as he thought of the old adage...If you want something done right... and headed out to deal with the "Tanner problem" himself.

+ + + + + + +

At 1:48 A.M. a guard was checking the cells in section 'C' of the county lock up and found both the men who ran Vin off the road - dead.

The head of the night watch decided to wait until morning to inform the ATF and the DA. He wrote a report, had a team check the cells for evidence, and had the bodies taken to the police morgue.

+ + + + + + +

At the hospital, Vin drifted off after the nurse injected a mild sedative into his IV.

Chris retained his hold on the now limp hand, knowing that despite the fact that Tanner was asleep, he was aware of his presence. The night before, after Vin had insisted that he was fine, Chris had let go, only to have Vin wake less than an hour later from a disturbing nightmare.

Tonight, despite the slightly awkward position required to maintain contact, Chris held on.

He drifted, not asleep, but not entirely awake either.

He was vaguely aware of footsteps as they entered sometime later, figuring that it was the nurse, and not wanting to startle her again, he remained silent.

He was surprised when he heard the man's voice from the other side of the bed.

"Well, Mr. Tanner," the unfamiliar voice said softly, "here we are...just you and me."

Chris didn't think that Vin was awake, but amended that opinion when he felt the hand he was holding squeeze his hand.

The voice continued. "I see that you are awake...good, I would hate to finish this without having a chance to gloat just a little."

Chris recognized the voice...Charles Berger.

"You should have listened to my first warning...then none of this would have been necessary..."

+ + + + + + +

Vin woke as someone entered the room, he lay quietly, wanting to believe that it was just the night nurse...back for another look at Chris's assets, but his instincts were telling him otherwise.

When the man started to speak, Vin knew exactly who was standing by his bed. Charles Berger.

He cracked his eyes open just as the man pulled a 9mm handgun from his jacket and began to screw on a silencer.

He sensed that Chris was also awake, and squeezed his hand to let him know that he was too.

Berger was determined to point out how useless his attempt to convict him had been, and was outlining Vin's mistakes, now pointing the silenced gun at him, when Vin felt Chris's hand slide free of his.

No...Chris he thought frantically, don't do something rash. He was sure that if Chris raised his head up to stop the man, the gun, now aimed at his head, would shift, and he would lose the one person that he couldn't stand to live without.

Then he felt the hand return...but in it was the small 38 backup weapon that Chris carried in his ankle holster. He took the offered weapon, smiling slightly as he shifted it under the blanket, aiming at the man who was even now tightening his finger on the trigger of the big weapon pointed at him.

His smile confused the man.

"What could you possibly have to smile about, Tanner?" Berger asked, at the same time that Chris rose up from behind the bed and Vin pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening...as three guns discharged, one a soft pffftt, the other two, loud retorts that echoed in the small room.

Berger was thrown back against the wall, two bullets in his chest.

Chris ran around the bed, kicked the weapon from the limp hand and, at hearing a soft gasp, turned back to the bed.

There was blood running down the side of Vin's head. His eyes open but glazed.

"Vin!" Chris reached out, hands shaking, to press against the side of his throat, praying that the movement he felt there was indeed a pulse and not the trembling of his own hand. Then the eyes moved, seemed to focus on him for a moment, before widening in alarm.

Chris whirled and fired as Vin raised the weapon he still held. Berger rose and had a small gun pointed at Chris, then there was another hole in Berger's chest...and as the gun in Vin's hand boomed again, a hole in the middle of his forehead.

Chris turned back to Vin, unconcerned with the corpse behind him as he heard it hit the floor.

He took the gun from Vin's now lax hand, pressed a fold of the blanket to the graze on the side of his head and waited for the medical personnel that he could hear hurrying down the hall towards the room to arrive.

He was barely aware of the pain in his lower back as he focused all his attention on Vin, and the blood that was soaking the long hair and blanket as he yelled for a doctor to hurry.

+ + + + + + +

The doctor came into the room at a run - a nurse, orderly and one of the hospital's security men at his heels.

As the doctor started to check the body on the floor, Chris told them to ignore it.

"He's dead, he shot Vin..." Chris spat out, adrenalin still pumping through his system.

The doctor moved over, taking Chris's hand from the blanket he had pressed against Vin's temple and pulling it away to see what he was dealing with.

The blood was still flowing, but not as fast as it had been, and the deep gash was visible.

"Your friend was very lucky, again." the doctor stated as he assessed the injury. "It looks like the bullet grazed his head...an inch to the right..." he left the sentence unfinished.

Chris was still standing next to the doctor and the nurse now approached. "Chris, we need to take care of Vin, you'll have to move back..." She placed her hand on his back, and upon feeling the damp warmth, stopped. "Doctor James...I think we have another patient here."

As the nurse touched his back a sharp pain ran up Chris's spine, he gasped, his vision wavered and he swayed as he realized that Berger must have managed to get off one more shot as he and Vin had fired that final time. His knees buckled as the orderly and the nurse moved to catch him.

The doctor leaned out the door and called for a gurney and another medical team.

+ + + + + + +

Buck approached the hospital in a state of dread. The sheriff's department had called first thing this morning, the men who ran Vin off the road had both been found dead in their cells.

Chris was going to be pissed.

Buck laughed to himself at that understatement. Chris was going to be looking to lop off heads.

He took the elevator up to the sixth floor and was surprised when he was stopped by hospital security and asked for identification as he approached Vin's room. Maybe Chris had already heard and taken measures.

He wasn't expecting to walk into a room with two beds...and two patients.

"What the hell is going on here!" Buck demanded of the nurse that was adjusting tubes, making notes on a chart by the bed that Chris lay in, apparently unconscious.

The big male nurse looked up, taking in the concerned man who had just entered.

"The doctor can fill you in better, but from what I hear there was a shooting here early this morning."

Buck turned to look at Vin in the other bed and noticed a new bandage around his head. "Both of them?"

"Apparantly, but from what I hear they took out the shooter...in fact the rumor is that there are at least four bullets in the body."

"Holy shit!" Buck swore, "and I thought JD was a trouble magnet." He reached for the phone. "I'd better call the team in, we'll want to take over the security."

The nurse just skook his head and muttered. "And I thought my job was rough...."

+ + + + + + +

By mid morning they had identified the body and the media was camped outside the hospital wanting answers.

Travis arrived and, until Chris and Vin woke up, they could only surmise what had occurred, although it seemed pretty obvious to the team. Berger had gone after Vin and paid the price...at least it would save the citizens the cost of a trial...and keep Vin from having to testify.

Not that there wouldn't be questions, but with Vin flat on his back, no one could really think that Vin or Chris had done anything other than defend themselves.

+ + + + + + +

Vin woke a few hours later, his head pounding almost as badly as the morning after he'd imbibed some of Josiah's home brew.

He lay for a few minutes, eyes closed, listening in an effort to figure out just where he was and what was going on. He heard almost nothing...the rustle of paper, and more distantly, the soft sounds that he recognized from too many past experiences. He was in a hospital. He tried to remember...he could vaguely remember an accident...no, not an accident, someone had run him off the road. But it seemed like there should be more.

Then he remembered...Chris was in danger.

He opened his eyes and sat up.

Well that was what his intent had been...he opened his eyes, cried out as what felt like a 2000 watt searchlight stabbed into them. His attempt to sit up equally futile as the multitude of bruises and other injuries made themselves known.

He lay back, eyes closed, and groaned.

"Hey, Junior." Buck's voice, but set at a mercifully low volume.

"Bucklin?" Vin whispered, then remembered again. "Chris...he's in..."

"Bed...right next to you," Buck finished for him.

When Vin again tried to move, the big hand gently held him down. "He's okay, Vin, was awake a little while ago. He took a bullet in the lower back but he's gonna be fine."

Vin sighed as the hand stayed in place, he knew that Buck wasn't going to let him up anytime soon, so he quit fighting.

"You telling the truth, Buck?"

"Yeah, and if you turn your head and open your eyes you can see for yourself."

"Can't."

"Sure you can..." Buck argued.

"Can't open my eyes, 's too bright...hurts too much," Vin whispered, trying once more to look and once again having to slam the blue slits shut as the pain lanced straight through his brain.

"Sorry, pard," Buck whispered back, "but I promise you, he's here and he's gonna be fine."

"Need ta..." Vin broke off, he needed to touch the man, to feel what he couldn't see, but how could he say that to Buck?

He didn't need to, Buck could see what he wanted...needed. He unlocked the brake on the wheeled bed and slowly rolled it over next to the one that Chris slept in. He took Vin's hand and, after lowering the right side bar on his bed and the left one on Chris's, he placed Vin's hand on Chris's.

Vin knew without looking whose hand he held, he rubbed his thumb over the back of Chris's and smiled as the hand resopnded, turning to grasp his.

"Thanks, Buck," Vin whispered as the big man walked out to guard the door.

+ + + + + + +

By the time Vin woke up again, the beds had been moved back to their usual positions, except that they were angled slightly so that each of the patients could see the other without having to twist and turn.

The rest of the team spent the next few days watching over the two men, and after getting the details of the early morning event, Travis and Buck spoke to the press.

It was finally over. Berger was dead, Vin was well and truly vindicated, and both he and Chris were healing nicely. In fact, the doctors were so pleased with their progress that they were planning to let them out of the hospital by the end of the week. Either that, or they just wanted them gone before someone blew up the hospital.

Whichever scenerio, both men would both need some time to finish recovering before either was ready to return to active duty.

The rest of the team would catch up on paperwork, provide back up for other teams, and do some preliminary work on potential new cases while Chris and Vin recovered - or more likely, climbed the walls at the ranch.

The ranch...Chris wanted Vin to move there. Vin wasn't ready for that just yet, but for now, while they were both less than 100%, he agreed to stay.

Buck just smiled as he brought what amounted to 90% of Vin's wardrobe out to the ranch in anticipation of their arrival.

Nathan was busily stocking medical suppplies into the bathroom and Josiah was cooking up a storm, determined that there would be plenty of meals ready for the two 'invalids' to simply defrost and heat up.

JD was busily loading the latest games onto Chris's computer so that Vin would have something to do, despite Buck's contention that Vin would have PLENTY to keep him occupied. And JD almost felt silly about his efforts until he caught Buck stashing a pile of the latest movies by Chris's DVD player.

Ezra, on the other hand, could think of nothing that he, personally, could do to assist, except to hire a housekeeper/cook/physical therapist to visit the ranch several times a week for as long as she was needed.

And by the end of the week, everything was ready. All that remained was for the doctors to give the final say so, sign the release papers, and make sure there was a clear path from room 1117 to the exit doors.

It would have been impossible to say which man was happier to be leaving the hospital since both men suffered from S.D.O.H.S. - severe dislike of hospitals syndrome.

And, true to their words, both men's doctors had the papers signed by noon, and by 2 P.M. both men were on their way home.

The trip home was enough to wear both men out. Josiah gleefully carried Vin, and, when Buck would have picked up Chris, the glare he received was enough to convince him to simply 'assist' Chris as he walked stiffly up the path to the front door.

They helped both men into the den where the large sofa had been prepared with some extra pillows, Vin's quilt, and various items that they might need for the afternoon and evening. Then, upon the insistance of the two, Buck, Josiah and the rest of the team cleared out.

"Alone at last," Chris observed.

"Yeah...and too damn tired to do anything about it."

"Sad state of affairs..."

"Mmmm," Vin agreed, leaning over to Chris's end of the sofa, "but we can cuddle some..."

"Mmmm," Chris agreed.

+ + + + + + +

Epilogue

It was two weeks before Chris returned to work, and almost a month after that before Vin was declared fit. By that time, most of Vin's possessions had mysteriously drifted from his apartment in Denver to the ranch. Chris carefull never mentioned his 'moving in', he just let it happen of its own accord.

If Vin hadn't consciously decided to stay, he certainly had made the leap at some level, since he seemed entirely disinclined to move back to town. Which suited Chris just fine.

They had spent a lot of time in each others' arms over the past weeks, and since they were sleeping together, indulged in a fair amount of gentle frottage. But Chris was determined that they wait for Vin's clean bill of health before they engaged in anything more 'strenuous', despite the younger man's insistance that he was fine...and ready...and God damn it, Larabee, he was gonna go fucking nuts if he didn't have it soon. Chris just smiled evilly, mouthed the old platitude about anything worth having and some other nonsense about it being worth waiting for and, finally, on a Friday afternoon, he got his clearance.

+ + + + + + +

Vin walked into the team 7 offices, it wasn't the first time he'd been in, but today was the day he had the final assessment from his doctor.

"Hey, Vin," JD called out as he entered the shared office space, "are you back?"

Vin waved the report in the air as he walked past, heading for Chris's office. He nodded to Nathan and Josiah, waved to Ezra and Buck, and walked into Chris's office without knocking.

"I'm baaaccckk..." he drawled out as Chris looked up.

Chris quickly buried the frown that had started to form when he heard the door open without a knock. Smiling instead he replied, "Should report you for insubordination...you never knock."

Vin answered with a wolfish smile, "I know, I guess you'll just have to figure out some way to punish me..."

"Yeah...mmmm..." his answer cut off by the tongue that licked his lower lip and slid into his mouth.

Chris melted into the embrace, then remembered where they were. He pushed back. "You're gonna be the death of me, Tanner."

"Yeah...but you're gonna die with a smile on your face."

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Buck poked his head in after Chris responded.

"The guys and I think that we need to have a small celebration down at Inez's, now that Vin's back and all..."

Chris checked his watch. It was after 4, and Friday, and looking at the faces of the rest of the men as they gathered by the door, Chris realized that there wasn't going to be any work getting done for the next hour.

"Okay, Inez's it is..." Chris announced as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. The rest of the team right behind, except Vin, who paced right beside him.

The evening felt good, like old times...only better. They were seven again. Life was back to normal, as normal as it ever got for the best ATF team in Denver.

For Chris and Vin, life would never be normal again. Life now was something special, a life to be shared and treasured, a life that neither man ever thought he would have. A life that they both were eager to celebrate...alone...together. So after an hour or two, Vin let the others know that he was spent, that he still needed to rest, and he and Chris headed home.

As they exited the building, Buck turned to the others, a huge grin on his face. "They lasted about an hour longer than I thought they would..."

"Yeah," JD added, "the looks they were giving each other I was beginning to think they would just clear one of the tables and..."

"JD!" Inez scolded, as she approached, "they would never do that..." she smiled snugly. "I told them that they could use the back room anytime they wanted."

The rest just snickered, wishing that their own Friday night was going to be as exciting as their friends' was.

+ + + + + + +

Vin sat next to Chris in the Ram. He'd only had a couple beers, but they were some of the first ones in quite a while and, as hard as he tried, he couldn't quite keep his hands off the delectable body sitting next to him.

"Um...Vin," Chris stuttered, as the slim hands found their way south, breaching the waistband on Chris's slacks. He'd had a meeting with the brass earlier in the day and had worn the dressier pants rather than his usual tight jeans. Now, there was no tight denim to impede the slender hands that slid inside.

Vin's grin just grew a tad wider as he felt Chris's reaction to his attentions. Ignoring the vocal response, his hand slid lower.

"Oh, Christ..." Chris gasped, as the fingers slid inside his shorts and caressed him.

They were well out of Denver, off the main road and only a short distance from the ranch...and all of that on little used back roads.

As the fingers lightly grasped his already hardened shaft, Chris's hips bucked, causing a surge of fuel to enter the carburator as his foot depressed the accelerator.

Vin leaned over and slid his tongue into Chris's ear.

At the sound of the moan that came from deep in Chris's chest, Vin decided to ease off. He did want more, but decided it would be better if it wasn't in a ditch....

They pulled into the driveway, parked, and were in the door in record time.

Jackets were dropped in the front hall, Chris's tie made it to the edge of the living room. Both shirts ended up in the back hall and boots were kicked off as they entered the master bedroom...pants and shorts following immediately.

By the time they arrived at the king sized bed, both men were naked and completely aroused. They stood for a moment, embracing, hands in hair and tongues dueling before the need for air pulled them apart.

Green fire met blue and the inferno blazed.

Chris pushed Vin back onto the bed, crawling up after him, kissing his navel and working his way up the slim chest. The bruises were mostly gone, but as he reached the left shoulder, he found the new, still red scar where the branch had pierced Vin's chest. Chris gently licked the puckered flesh then moved up the feast on Vin's neck.

Vin giggled, his neck was ticklish, and Larabee knew it, so Vin turned the tables, rolling sideways, with Chris wrapped in his strong legs. Now he was on top.

"I want you, Chris...want to be inside of you," Vin breathed into the ear as he once more sent his tongue deep inside.

"Want you in me..." Chris rasped back, he was so close to the edge he didn't think he could stand it.

Vin reached over to the night stand. He had set it up before heading to town, praying that the doctor would finally sign off on his fitness report. The KY was right there, along with other necessitites.

Squeezing a bit into his palm, Vin first coated his own, then Chris's erection, careful not to push his partner too far...he could tell that Chris was very close.

He reached down into the sweet cleft in Chris's ass, found the puckered nub and circled it with a slick finger.

"Ya know...I don't think I'll be able to keep a straight face the next time Buck calls me 'Slick,." Vin smiled as he thought about one of his nicknames. He slid the finger in, stretching the muscle a bit then added a second, and moments later a third. Chris was loose and ready for him.

"Think ya missed me..." Vin rasped, as he replaced his fingers with his hard, slick shaft and pushed in.

"Ohhh...Yeah," Chris breathed out as he pushed up to meet the thrust.

Vin leaned over to kiss the slightly swollen lips before he started to thrust in earnest, Chris rising to meet each movement.

As the tempo increased, Vin reached up with one hand, taking Chris's shaft in his fist, pumping in time with their thrusts and moments later they both cried out as they were swept over the edge.

They collapsed onto the bed, Vin rolling to the side, breath coming in gasps, then slowing. Gradually both men drifted off to sleep.

A short time later a hand reached out of the pile of limbs, grabbed a corner of the big comforter and yanked it over the cooling bodies.

"Love you," a voice whispered.

"Mmm, love you, too," another answered.

Then all was quiet except the soft snores of two very contented men.

The End

Continues in The Ride