Editors' Note: The original version of this story first appeared in the Mag 7 zine, Seven Card Stud #17, published by Neon RainBow Press, Cinda Gillilan and Jody Norman, editors. When we all decided to post the stories that have appeared in the issues of Seven Card Stud that are more than two years old, we opted to use a generic pen name because, while Kacey Tucker and Erica Michaels were the primary authors of this story, they had so much help from the other folks writing for the press that it just made sense to consider the story to be written by the Neon RainBow Press Collective! Resistance was futile. So, thanks to the whole Neon Gang – Dori Adams, Sierra Chaves, Dana Ely, Michelle Fortado, Patricia Grace, Dani Martin, Erica Michaels, Nina Talbot, Kasey Tucker, Rebecca Wright, and Lorin and Mary Fallon Zane. Art by Shiloh (shigal13@excite.com)
Hic.
Hic. Hic.
The voices of the gathered peacekeepers rose, the men arguing amongst themselves.
"I'm tellin' ya, it ain't gonna work," Nathan said for the third time.
Hic.
"I beg to differ, Mr. Jackson. This cure is time tested, an old family remedy, passed down through the centuries."
"Centuries?" Nathan scoffed and rolled his eyes.
Hic. Hic.
"Well, perhaps only a generation or two, but nonetheless it has been an efficacious remedy for Mr. Tanner's aliment on many occasions."
"Ain't no ailment," the healer argued. "Man's jus' got a case of the hiccups." He turned to the tracker, who was slumped down low in his chair, wishing the shadows could swallow him whole. "Ya need to drink a big glass a water, real fast, and they'll be gone," he insisted.
Hic. "Tried that when y' told me the first time," Vin replied. Hic. Hic.
"Mr. Tanner, I assure you, I am completely sincere. Why, it was my sainted mother who taught me this therapy," Ezra said, sliding three full shot glasses over in front of the tracker.
Hic.
"Oh, go on and give it a try, Vin," Josiah rumbled, his tone more than a little amused. "Even if it don't work, you'll still be feeling a little better about it."
Tanner stared at the three whiskeys. Hic. "What'd I got t' do again?" Hic. Hic.
"One simply holds their nose with one hand and drinks all three shots in quick succession – without drawing a breath."
Hic. "Without takin' a breath?"
Ezra nodded, trying to look as sincere as he possibly could.
Hic. Hic. "Ah, hell, what d' I got t' lose," the tracker sighed. Hic.
He reached for the first drink, but stopped when Ezra cautioned, "Ah-ah, the nose, Mr. Tanner, one mustn't forget the nose."
Hic. Vin glowered at the gambler, sure the man was making the whole damned thing up just to get him to do something that was going to look damn foolish. But he was desperate enough to give anything a try. After spending half the day with the damned hitch in his breath, he'd try just about anything to get rid of it.
Hic. Hic.
Reaching up, Vin held his nose with one hand and, with the other, lifted the first glass to his lips. He took a deep breath – hic – and swallowed the first shot. He set the glass down and reached for the second, gulping it down as well – hic – then grabbed the last shot and downed that as well.
Buck, Josiah, JD, Nathan, and Ezra all leaned forward, watching him. Vin squirmed under the gazes, feeling like he was being speared by huge sewing pins.
Hic.
The five peacekeepers all leaned back, groaning.
"I simply do not understand it," Ezra said, his brow knotted with confusion. "The Standish Cure has never failed in the past."
Hic. Hic. Hic.
"Ya gotta hold your breath, Vin, for as long as you can," JD said sagely. "That'll do the trick, you'll see."
"Didn't work before," Buck reminded the young sheriff.
"He didn't hold his breath long enough," JD argued.
"He was turnin' blue 'round the lips!" Buck replied. "Any longer an' he would've passed out where he sat!"
Hic.
JD looked at tracker, hazel eyes wide and innocent. "Try it again, Vin. My mother had me do that whenever I got the hiccups, and it always works. Honest."
Hic. With a sigh Tanner took a deep breath, blew it out and then sucked in as much air as his lungs could hold and clamped his lips tightly shut.
Hic… Hic… Hic, came the muffled sounds in the tracker's chest.
"It ain't workin', JD," Buck told the sheriff, his tone clearly conveying the unspoken "and I told you so."
"Wait," JD snapped, watching as Vin's face turned red from the effort.
The tracker's eyes rounded slightly. Hic… Hic… And his cheeks puffed up like he'd poked two billiard balls into his mouth.
Hic!
He gasped for a fresh breath, then wheezed for a few times while he regained his breath.
Hic.
"I told ya!" Buck crowed at JD. Then, without warning he lunged halfway across the table and slammed both fists down on the tabletop right in front of Vin, yelling "AHHHH!!!"
The other four men jumped, and the tracker was instantly on his feet, his Mare's Leg in his hands and aimed at Buck.
Hic.
"Damn!" the big ladies' man lamented, shaking his head. "Thought that would work for sure!"
Hic. Hic. "Yeah, worked so good it almost put y' in a grave, Bucklin!" Tanner snarled. Hic. Hic.
Buck slid back into his chair and looked over at Josiah. "Maybe y' could try prayin' over him again," he suggested.
Hic.
Josiah shook his head sadly. "Layin' on hands was never my gift, Brother Buck."
"Maybe if ya preached hellfire and the like, you could scare the hiccups out of Vin," JD offered hopefully.
Hic. Hic.
"If it's all the same t'… hic… y' think… hic… I'll jus' go… hic… shoot m' damned self… hic."
"I'm gonna get y' another big glass a water," Nathan said, starting to rise.
Hic.
"And I shall procure additional whiskey," Ezra offered hastily. "Immediately."
Hic.
"Try holdin' your breath again, Vin," JD worriedly instructed the tracker.
Hic.
Josiah closed his eyes, praying fervently, "Oh Lord, please take pity on this wretched sinner…"
Hic.
The batwing doors to the saloon burst open with a thunderous crash, the storm called Chris Larabee rolling in, green eyes flashing. "Vin Tanner, you goddamn son of a bitch! I've come to collect the reward on your fuckin' worthless head!" he bellowed, his gaze locking on the tracker's like he was sighting the man down the barrel of a long rifle.
Movement stopped, every muscle in the saloon locked in place, waiting for hell to break loose. And the only sound was the slow fade of the last piano notes, then silence. Silence fell, so deep and so cold it felt like ice might begin to form in the room.
Larabee took three long strides to the table and, ignoring the shocked, disbelieving stares that greeted him, peered angrily at the standing tracker, whose blue eyes looked as big and as round as a pair of fancy China teacup saucers.
Larabee's hand started for the Colt at his hip, stopped by the sudden cacophony of voices: "Chris!" "No!" "Now, brother—" "Mr. Larabee—" "Are y' crazy, stud?"
Then, the gunslinger drew himself up and… grinned.
The room filled with a collective sigh of relief from the regulators.
Tanner met Larabee's dancing gaze, and his blue eyes narrowed. "What t' hell was that 'bout, Larabee?" he demanded, his heart still pounding in his chest.
Chris's grin grew wider.
Then Buck and Ezra began to chuckle, Nathan and Josiah quickly joining them, and finally JD, as well. The chuckles escalated into laughs, and from laughs to a roar.
The rest of the patrons quickly joined in. Everyone except Vin Tanner, who stood where he was, fingers curled around his Mare's Leg, his knuckles white, his eyes still wide, and his shoulders hunched like he was half-cat and ready to spit.
"Answer me, damn ya!" he demanded of Larabee.
Chris wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled.
"It's called a cure, ya damn fool," Buck managed, wiping away his own tears. He shot JD a look and added, "I told ya I had it right! I just didn't have the Larabee glare ta back me up!"
Vin blinked, his eyes going even wider as he realized the damned hitch that had been plaguing him damn near all day was finally gone. Then… he grinned, and started to laugh himself. "Shit, Cowboy, y' pr'bly scared ten years off'n my life!"
"Not to mention the rest of ours," Nathan added.
JD nodded emphatically.
"Amen, Brother, amen," Josiah concurred, shaking his head sadly.
"Worked, didn't it? What're you gripin' about, ya ungrateful bastard," Chris teased.
Vin shook his head, holstered his weapon, and sat down, reaching for one of the whiskeys Ezra had refilled. Chris did the same, and the two men downed their drinks in single gulps, their glasses hitting the tabletop at the same time.
Hic.
The six regulators turned hardened glares on… the gambler.
Ezra's eyes flew wide and he started violently in his seat, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.
And they all waited… for the sound that never came.
Laughter filled the air again.
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Two hours later Chris and Vin arrived at Larabee's cabin. They dismounted and settled their horses for the night, then headed inside where Chris put on coffee to go along with the supper they'd brought with them from the restaurant, which Vin arranged to warm on the pot-belly stove.
They had just started to dig into the fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and biscuits when Larabee heard it.
Hic…
Vin's eyes rounded with surprise, then filled with dread.
Hic…
"Damn it t' hell!" the tracker moaned. Hic…
Chris grinned. "I could try callin' ya out again if ya think it would help."
Tanner glowered at the man. Hic…
"Damn, Vin," Chris replied, "that look could scald the stink off a skunk."
Hic… Hic… "Just shoot me now, Chris. It's what a real friend would do."
Larabee stood and reached for his gun belt, and for a brief moment Vin thought the man might actually be intending to do it, but then the blond unbuckled the belt and slung it off his hips. He set it on the table and walked around to where Vin sat, watching.
Hic… Hic…
"Stand up," Chris said, his voice low and deadly.
Vin swallowed hard. Hic… He stood. Hic… Hic…
The pallet Tanner had made up near the cold fireplace was still there, and Chris took him over to it.
Hic… "Chris, what—?"
"Your clothes," Larabee said, "take 'em off."
Tanner's brows knotted. "Take m'—" Hic…
"You heard me," Larabee hissed, hazel eyes turning to slits. "Off."
Vin started undressing, the loss of each piece of clothing punctuated by a hiccup, until he was standing naked. "Larabee, I—" Hic… "—don't know what—" Hic… "—yer playin' at—" But the gunslinger was already undressing as well. And his all-too-obvious arousal stalled the words in Vin's throat.
Hic… Hic…
As naked as Vin was, Chris closed the distance between them. Hic… Pulling Vin to him and kissing the man with an insistent passion. But as he did, he could feel and hear the continuing hiccups that assailed his lover.
He broke off the kiss and pushed Vin down onto the soft pallet, his attack shifting to the tracker's rigid cock.
"Ah!" Tanner cried as Chris sucked the head into his mouth. Tongue, teeth, and lips wrapped him in an overwhelming rush of pure pleasure. His hips lifted, then he ground his ass back into the blankets, all the while falling deeper into the whirlwind of sensations being visited upon him. He felt as if he'd been swept away by a flash flood of pleasure, and he gasped, fighting to catch his breath as he rushed headlong toward the tumult of release.
He tried to push Chris off, to extend the wonders he was experiencing, but Larabee was in control, and he was having none of it.
"Chris!" Vin cried, fingers curling into the top blanket. "'M—" But that was as far as he got before he felt himself plunge over that passion-induced waterfall. His body jerked and writhed as he came, pushed along by the realization that Chris still had him in his mouth, was feeding on his seed… And then he was floating at the bottom, drifting on the eddies of his spent passion, his muscles too loose for him to command. He panted hard to catch his breath and closed his eyes, ready for the soft swirl of absolute contentment to carry him away.
Then he heard it. Larabee. Larabee was laughing again.
Vin cracked an eye open and peered up at the man. "What's so damn funny?" he growled.
"Nothin'," Chris replied, but his eyes were still alight with humor.
"What—?"
"They're gone," Chris interrupted.
Vin gave a slight start, but the man was right. His hiccups were gone. "Well, I'll be damned…"
Vin grinned, and a satisfied, somewhat predatory grin, split Chris' face. The blond licked his lips, the move reminding Tanner of a large mountain cat who'd just seen its next meal. But the pulse of languid pleasure that spread through his groin overcame any fear he might otherwise have felt, being trapped under that hungry gaze. He rolled over and spread his legs wide, inviting Chris to sate his own needs, and Larabee was quick to take him up on his offer.
As he let himself be carried back to that river of passion only Chris could lead him to, Vin mused on the fact that he now had his own sure-fire way to cure the hiccups. Let the rest of them keep their own damn cures, he'd stick with the one that was guaranteed to work…
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