Editors' Note: The original version of this story first appeared in the Mag 7 zine, Seven Card Stud #18, 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 Lorin Zane 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.

Author's Note: This is a missing scene from "One Day Out West."  The gen version of the story, "The Poster," was published in Let's Ride #6.

JD picked himself up off the floor, still muttering inventive curses under his breath.  Buck, of course, was already gone.

Ignoring the continuing laughter coming from the cells, Dunne righted his chair and sat back down at the desk.  Needing something to do, he opened the top side drawer.  Inside he found a stack of wanted posters, handbills, and dodgers.

Pulling them out, JD began a methodical examination of each one, sorting them into stacks:  robbers, rustlers, murderers, and everybody else.  A few he set aside so he could use the backs of the posters at a later time, the men described on the other side well known to be dead.

He was almost to the bottom of the stack when he uncovered a relatively new poster.  His eyes widened and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"What'd ya find," Lucas James asked him, "Jessie James' poster?"  He chuckled and shook his head.

"Yes, why don't you tell us, Mr. Dunne, help relieve some of the pitiless boredom," Ezra added with a loud, long sigh.

JD looked up at the two men, his mouth slightly open, hazel eyes wide with shock.  Then he shook his head as if in response to some unspoken question he had asked himself.  He folded up the poster he'd found, shoving it into his pocket as he popped up out of his chair.

He was rushing to the door when Standish called, "Mr. Dunne?" and "JD!" as the young sheriff rushed out the door, drawing it closed behind him with a loud bang.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

JD had expected to find Buck at the saloon, but the ladies' man wasn't there.  He stepped out onto the boardwalk, glancing almost frantically left, then right, catching sight of Josiah just as he stepped into Potter's store.  He hurried over and entered as well, calling, "Josiah!"

The big man turned and frowned.  "Trouble?" he asked worriedly.

"You know where Buck is?"

"Saloon."

JD shook his head.  "I was just there."

A knowing smile lifted the corners of the older man's mouth.  "Upstairs?" he asked the young sheriff.

Dunne blushed furiously, but he spun on his heel and was out the door before Josiah could ask why he was so anxious to find the ladies' man.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

JD hurried up the stairs in the saloon, but stopped at the top of the landing, unsure what to do next.  He looked at the closed doors lining the hallway, his brow furrowing.  Then he bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Buck!  Hey, Buck!  Get out here!"

A few moments later one of the doors halfway down the corridor opened and the ladies' man leaned out into the hall, dressed only in his long johns, which were unbuttoned.  "JD?" he yelped.  "What's the matter with ya, son?"

Dunne hurried down the hall, ignoring the other doors that opened slightly and then closed again as he passed.  Buck stepped out into the hallway to join him, calling back into the room in a sing-song voice, "I'll be right back, darlin'."  Then he rounded on Dunne.  "What the hell do you think you're doin', kid?"

"I found something interesting—"

"You found something interesting?" Buck interrupted.  "Well, I found somethin' interesting here, too, son.  And I'm gonna go find some more."  He turned to enter the room, but Dunne reached out and gabbed his arm to stop him.

When the ladies' man pivoted back around, the young sheriff slapped the folded poster against his chest.

"What's this?" Wilmington asked him, frowning.

"Just look at it," JD said hotly, trying to keep his voice down.  His gaze darted around the hallway, hoping that no one was watching them.

Buck sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, but he took the poster and unfolded it.  His eyes rounded and he peered at JD, demanding, "Where'd you get this?"

"I found it in the desk over at the jail."

"Damn," Wilmington hissed, his hand coming up so he could stroke his mustache while he thought for a moment.  "Anyone else know about this?"

Dunne shook his head.

"Where's Chris?"

"Downstairs," JD said, adding as an afterthought, "talkin' to Vin."

Wilmington sighed heavily.  "All right, leave it to me."

"What're you going to do?"

"What am I gonna do?" Buck snapped, his voice rising.  Then he paused and reined in his temper.  "I'm— I'm gonna go talk to Chris."

"But—"

"JD!" Buck snapped.  "Go back to the jail, make sure Conklin doesn't let Lucas out."

"But—"

"JD, go back to the jail.  Now," Buck growled.

Dunne looked like he wanted to argue, he looked angry, but he finally nodded and left, storming out of the saloon without a backward glance.

A few minutes later Wilmington, dressed once again, was on his way down the stairs.  Larabee was still seated at a table near the back of the room.  Buck made a stop at the bar, getting himself a beer, which he carried over to Larabee's table.  He sat down across from his friend.  There was a full glass of whiskey sitting in front of the blond, and the ladies' man couldn't help but wonder why Chris was waiting to drink it.

"Chris," he said by way of a greeting.  "We need to talk, stud."

Larabee looked up, his expression neutral, green eyes holding a distracted, almost far away expression.  "So talk."

Wilmington scooted his chair a little closer to the table and glanced around the room to see who all was there, and if anyone was paying them any attention.  The room wasn't exactly crowded, and no one seemed overly interested in the two men.  "Think we might have us a problem," he said quietly.

Larabee's expression didn't change in the slightest.  "You got something to say, Buck, spit it out."

The ladies' man's gaze dropped to the tabletop and he cursed softly under his breath.  Larabee wasn't going to like this; wasn't going to like having been made a fool of.  And, suddenly, he wasn't sure he wanted to tell Chris about what the kid had found, but he didn't really have a choice, and he knew it.  There was no way in hell JD was going to be able to keep it under his hat for very long.  Better Chris hear it from him rather than a stranger.

Reaching into his shirt pocket, Buck pulled out the folded-up poster.  He laid it on the tabletop and pushed it over to Larabee, who paused for a moment, then picked it up and opened it.  The man's poker face expression didn't shift in the few seconds he stared at the wanted poster.  Then Chris folded it up again and tucked it into his own shirt pocket.  The blond reached out, picked up his whiskey, and downed the drink in a single gulp.  He sat the glass back on the table and stared across at the ladies' man, asking, "Who else knows?"

"Just JD," Buck said quietly, his gaze sweeping over the patrons again.  He frowned, wondering why Larabee wasn't more upset.  It wasn't like Chris to tolerate a deception.  When the gunman didn't say anything more, he finally asked, "Well, what're we gonna do about this?"

"Nothin'."  Chris glanced at the batwing doors, making it clear he was ready to leave.

"Nothin'?" Wilmington echoed.  "Chris, he's—"

"I know."

Buck frowned, his anger mounting.  "You know?  You mean you already knew?"

Larabee nodded once.

"Jesus, Chris," the ladies' man hissed, "that says murder."

Larabee blinked once.  "He didn't do it."

"What?"

"Said he didn't do it; said he was framed."

Buck snorted in disbelief.  "And you believe him?"

Chris nodded again.

"Well, ain't sure I do, stud."

"Leave him alone, Buck," Larabee warned lowly, green eyes narrowing slightly.

The tone made Wilmington's brow knot.  "Chris, he's—"

"You heard me."

Flashing blue eyes met equally stormy green.  "Yeah, I heard you, but that don't mean I got t' listen to you," he growled, starting to stand.

"Buck," Chris snapped, pushing to his feet.  For a moment Wilmington thought Larabee might just draw down on him, but then the blond said, "Get the others.  Meet me at Nathan's clinic."

"Why?"

"Do it," he commanded in a tight bark, then turned and left without a backward glance.

Buck stood and watched the black-clad man leave, anger and friendship warring in his soul.  He'd known Larabee for twelve years, had seen him through good times and bad, and he knew Chris was an exceptional judge of character.  But he really wanted to believe the poster.  And he knew why.

He cursed under his breath and slapped his thigh – hard.  He'd been smarting ever since he'd first seen Tanner standing at Chris' shoulder like he belonged there.  Standing in the place Buck had once filled in Larabee's life, back before Sarah, and he had to wonder if the two men were already more than just friends.

Buck's teeth ground together as he tried to decide what to do.  He recognized that tone of Larabee's.  If he didn't do what Chris wanted, he'd probably end up gut shot.

With another muttered curse he went to find JD and Josiah.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Chris found Vin at the livery, going over his gear in preparation for leaving the following day.  The tracker didn't bother to look up from his task when Larabee stepped into the building, just asked, "Lookin' fer me, Cowboy?"

"Buck and JD know," Larabee said quietly.

"Damn," Tanner sighed, his chin coming up.  "Guess I'll be leavin' sooner 'n I planned then."

Larabee shook his head.  "Tell 'em the truth, just like you told me."

Tanner snorted.  "Won't stay alive long I go 'round tellin' folks 'm worth five hundred dollars."

"You can trust these men."

"Even Standish?"

The hint of a smile curled the corners of the gunslinger's mouth.  "Standish is in jail.  What he don't know…"

"Can't get me killed," the tracker finished, grinning slightly himself.  Then he took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh.  "Hell, why not."

Larabee nodded his approval.  "Would like to see you stay around…"

Vin looked up, catching the man's eyes and seeing the hunger that lurked in the green depths.  "Would like that m'self," he said, the words coming out a little more raspy than usual.

A slightly feral smile lifted the corners of Chris' mouth.  "Glad to hear it."

Vin licked his lips, feeling his groin tighten under the man's intense gaze.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Less than half an hour later, the six men were all in Nathan's small clinic.  JD and Buck stood close to the door, their shoulders almost touching – a unified front.  Nathan and Josiah sat at a small table in the middle of the room, both of them drinking coffee, relaxed, listening.  Chris stood directly opposite Buck and JD, leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest.  Vin stood just in front and to the right of the gunman, letting Larabee protect his back.

Josiah and Nathan exchanged glances, clearly confused by the division that had suddenly developed amongst them.

"As much as I enjoy the company," Josiah said as lightly as possible, "I was supposed to be helping Mrs. Potter…"

"Sorry, J'siah," Tanner said, his cheeks going a little red as he dipped his head slightly.  "I'll make this quick so ya c'n go help the widow-woman."  He took a deep breath, held it a moment, and then said, "Reckon I's wrong not tellin' y'all this sooner; I told Chris, figgered I owed it t' him…  Reckon I owe it t' the rest 'a ya, too."  He took a step closer to the center of the room where Nathan and Josiah sat, but he spoke to Buck and JD.  "Y'all know I's a bounty hunter – was, anyways, 'til I went after a man named Eli Joe.  Murderin' dog…"  He shook his head, muscles along his jaw jumping.  "I's gettin' close, too, thought I'd found 'im – dead – but it turned out it weren't him.  It was a farmer, name 'a Jess Kincaid.  Eli Joe had kilt him t' throw me off his trail – done a damn good job of it, too.

"When I took Kincaid's body in, thinkin' it was Eli Joe's, the law in Tascosa reckoned I'd done it fer the bounty money, an' charged me with murder.  Well, like I told Larabee, seein' as how I's innocent, I hightailed it out 'a there so I wouldn't get hung; been huntin' fer Eli Joe ever since, t' clear m' name."

Silence met the confession, a decidedly long-winded speech for the usually taciturn tracker.

When no one spoke, Tanner added, "I done plenty 'a things I ain't proud of in m' life, but I ain't never killed a man in cold blood, less'n he's wanted fer murder or rape, or when I's ordered to by the Army.  Wouldn't kill an innocent man like that poster ya found says."  The last was said directly to JD.

The young man thought for a moment, then he nodded.  "I believe you, Vin."

Tanner nodded his thanks, his cheeks flushing again, telling both Josiah and Nathan that the young tracker had been telling them the truth.

"Ain't a man alive who don't have his regrets, Vin," Josiah rumbled in his deep voice.  "And Lord knows we've all made our mistakes.  You say you're innocent… I believe you, son."

"Me, too," Nathan agreed, nodding.  "Don't reckon a man who'd commit murder just to collect a reward would risk his life to save a stranger, and a Negro one at that."

"Hell, Nathan, color 'a man's skin don't mean a damn thing t' me.  It's what's in his heart that counts," Vin replied, looking a little affronted.

"Amen, brother," Josiah agreed, grinning slightly.

Nathan smiled.  "I know that, Vin.  I do."

"Everybody satisfied?" Larabee asked, looking directly at Buck.

The ladies' man hesitated for a moment, then he sighed and nodded.  "Yep," he said.  The tracker was telling the truth, he could see that plain as the flush on the man's cheeks whenever anyone paid him a compliment.  He didn't know what kind of life the younger man had led, but he had a feeling that Tanner hadn't had much experience with the kind of friendship that was being offered here.  And, for some reason he couldn't fathom, that made him feel sorry for the young man.

They all watched as Chris pulled out the poster.  He unfolded it and showed it to the others.  Then he walked over to Nathan's small wood stove, opened it, and pushed the poster inside where it immediately began to curl up, burning to ash.

"What about Ezra?" Josiah asked Vin.  "You plannin' to tell him, too?"

The tracker grinned as he replied.  "Not 'til I have to, J'siah.  Don't cotton t' wakin' up dead when he needs t' buy his way into a poker game."

The others chuckled.

"Ah hell," Tanner said and sighed, "guess he's got a right t' know, too."

"Hold off on that, pard," Larabee said.  "Jury's still out."

Vin thought for a moment, then nodded his agreement.  He trusted the gunslinger more than he'd ever trusted another human being, and he'd just met the man.  The intensity of the bond they shared, as natural as breathing, scared the living daylights out of him, but he'd accepted it like he'd accepted everything in his life, good and bad – as being the way of things.

Tanner glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of the four men there, and realizing that that trust was expanding to include each of them as well.  He knew then, with absolute certainty, that he wouldn't be leaving Four Corners any time soon.  And there was one more lost sheep to bring into the fold… if they could get the gambler to agree.

He smiled.  Hell, life surely was full of mysteries.

Josiah left to go help Mrs. Potter, JD to return to the jail, and Buck back to his interrupted tryst.

Vin watched them go, then glanced over at Larabee.  The blond jerked his chin in the direction of the door.  "Let's take a ride," he said.

Tanner nodded, following the man to the door.

"You two watch your backs," Nathan told them as they left.

"Always," Larabee replied as he shut the door behind them.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

They rode south and west for a little over two hours, coming to another small town about the size of Four Corners.  They went to the restaurant first, eating a hearty meal, then walked to the saloon and ordered drinks.

"Where we headed?" Vin asked when he'd finished his whiskey.  Larabee had bought them a bottle, but had only poured one shot for each of them.

"Spot just west of here," the blond replied.  "I'll show you in the morning."

Tanner nodded, content to leave it at that.  He wasn't sure why Larabee had brought him along, but he reckoned the man would tell him in his own time. Besides, the weather was pleasant and the tracker enjoyed riding through it more than time spent in town.

Larabee finished his drink, then stood and took the bottle as they headed to the larger of the two hotel on the main street.  He stopped at the front desk and stared hard at the young man behind the counter.  "Need a room."

The clerk looked up and his eyes rounded with surprise and fear.  He glanced nervously from one man to the other.  "One or two?"

"One," Larabee replied, nearly glaring at the man.

The clerk swallowed hard and nodded, then turned to pull a key from a small cubbyhole in the wall behind him.  He handed it to the blond saying, "Room seven, sir, at the end of the hall, just like the last time," he said, looking quickly from Larabee to Vin and back.

Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out a half eagle, which he slid across the counter to the clerk.  The man reached out and snatched it up.

"I'll have a bath brought up for you," the clerk said, pocketing the coin.

Larabee nodded, clearly enjoying the man's nervousness.

The clerk called for a boy, who hurried from the back.  He was no more than twelve, and a little skinny.  "Fetch a bath for seven," the clerk instructed.

The boy nodded and hurried off.

Chris turned and led the way upstairs, clearly familiar with the hotel.  Vin followed, curious why Chris was toying with the clerk like that.

The room was at the far end of the hallway.  The door leading to the outside stairs at the end of the hall and therefore close by their room.  Chris opened the door and walked in, the tracker following.

The room was nice, real nice, as far as hotels Vin was familiar with went.  There was a large feather bed, two chairs, a writing desk, and a large copper tub.  The drapes were heavy, able to keep out the sunlight.  A wash bowl and pitcher waited on a small table, and there was a pole mounted along a wall, a few hangers dangling from it for clothes.  Larabee walked over and draped his saddlebags over the back of one of the chairs, then pulled off his duster and hung it from one of the hangers.

There was a light knock at the door, then a softly called, "Bath, sir."

Chris crossed the room and opened the door.  The boy came in carrying a large bucket full of steaming hot water that clearly challenged whatever strength the kid had.  He poured the water into the tub, then turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Larabee undressed down to his long johns, the boy coming and going several more times in order to fill the tub.  Once it was full, the boy hurried out and returned a couple of minutes later with a small bucket and a small basket in which there were two towels, two washcloths, a scrub-brush, and a bar of soap.  The bucket was emptied into the empty pitcher on the table, the basket left on a stool next to the tub.  Before he left, the kid started a fire in the small stove in one corner of the room, then turned and said, "Restaurant closes at seven, sirs, and opens at six in the morning."

Chris nodded, then flipped the boy a silver peso.

"Thanks, Mister!" the boy said, his eyes going wide with surprised delight.  He grinned at them and hurried from the room.

Larabee followed the boy, locking the door before he finished undressing and climbed into the tub.  He sank down in the water, sighing softly.

Vin grinned at the expression on the gunslinger's face as he lit the lamp on the bedside table.  "They know ya here," he said.

The blond nodded.  "Couple of years ago I was staying here… got into a gunfight."

"Since y' ain't dead, I'm guessin' y' won," Vin said, taking off his hide coat and tossing it over one of the chairs.  His boots and gun belt followed.

"Barley Brothers lost."

Vin nodded.  "Must 'a been Clint an' Dodson Barley.  I took ol' Abner Barley t' Denver fer the bounty on his head."

Chris nodded.

"Reckon the clerk saw the gunfight?"

Chris nodded again.

The tracker snorted.  "Thought he was gonna piss himself down there."

"Me, too," Larabee replied with a grin, starting to work up a lather on the brush.

Tanner waited, watching while the blond took his bath and washed his hair, then Chris climbed out and dried off.  He wrapped his towel around his waist and went about shaving while Vin took a bath of his own.

They were both clean-shaven and dressed again, except for shoes and socks, when there was a soft knock at the door.  "Come to empty the tub, if you're done, sirs," came the boy's voice.

Chris walked over and unlocked the door, guessing the kid had remained in the hallway until the sounds of water splashing in the tub were over, then a few minutes more to give them time to dress.

The boy stood waiting with his large bucket, and he used it to empty the tub, then carried up more hot water to clean the copper tub itself.  He was quick and thorough.  When he had gathered up his stuff to leave, Chris said, "Bring us a couple of empty glasses, and any food that's still available," and flipped the boy a silver dollar coin.

"Right away, sir," the boy replied and hurried out.  He was back in a couple of minutes with the glasses, as well as a plate loaded with biscuits and gravy, and two large slices of apple pie.  "This was leftovers at the restaurant.  Hope you like it," he said, his gaze on Larabee as he handed over the change.

The blond nodded.  "Thanks, son.  You come wake us up tomorrow when the restaurant's open, and it'll be another peso for you."

The boy's eyes rounded with delight.  "I will, sir!" he said, then left the two men alone again.

The pair moved the chairs so they could use the small writing table to split the food, both of them enjoying the biscuits and pie.  Chris poured them drinks from the bottle he'd gotten at the saloon, and they sipped on that as they ate.

When they were done, they each leaned back in their chairs with a second glass of the whiskey in their hands.

"That kid thinks y' make the sun come up," Vin teased lightly.

Chris sighed, the sound decided sad.  "It'll pass; the sooner the better."

Vin lifted a single shoulder to shrug.

Larabee looked over at the tracker.  "Don't mean to pry, but what's this Eli Joe wanted for?"

"Murder, horse stealin', robbery," Vin rattled off, then his voice dropped as he added, "Even raped an' kilt three sisters down in Mexico; the oldest one weren't no more 'n thirteen."

Chris shook his head.  "Can see why you were tracking him down."

Vin nodded.  "Should 'a known better.  Should 'a known that weren't Eli Joe."

The blond shrugged.  "Mistakes happen."

"Yeah, an' mine might just get m' necked stretched."

"Not gonna happen," Chris replied.

"Not, huh?" Vin asked, a grin appearing on his lips in response to the look he was getting from Larabee.  "Why is that?"

"Not while you're riding with me," Chris replied simply.

The man's certainty gave Vin a shiver of gratitude, and a sense of comfort he hadn't felt in a damn long time.  He relaxed a little more, knowing that what Larabee had said was true.

The blond finished his drink, then set his glass on the table and stood.  He stretched, then undressed again down to his long johns and looked at the bed.

"Flip ya for it," Vin said lightly.

"Plenty big for two," Chris replied, moving his gun belt to hang from the left side of the headboard.  Vin hung his Mare's Leg from the right side and stripped down as well.

The two men climbed into bed, Vin leaning over to blow out the lamp.  He settled into the too-soft bed, all too aware of the man lying next to him.  But like Larabee had said, the bed was plenty big, and there was a good foot of distance between them.

The tracker frowned slightly, wishing for a slightly smaller bed.  He lay awake for a good hour, until he was sure the blond was sleeping.  Then, more than a little disappointed nothing had happened between them, he closed his eyes and fell to sleep, his dreams haunted by the images of Larabee, naked in that copper tub.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

A light rap at the door woke them the following morning, accompanied by the boy's call of, "Restaurant just opened, sirs."

Larabee climbed from the bed and crossed to the door, his Colt in his hand.  He stopped and fished a peso from his pant pocket, then unlocked the door and cracked it open, holding the coin out for the boy.

"Thank, Mister," the boy said.

"Can you make sure the livery has our horses ready to go in an hour?"

"I'll go tell 'em now," the boy promised, and he was off, running down the hallway.

Chris smiled a little as he shut the door and locked it again.  When he turned it was to find Vin already dressed and pulling on his boots.

Larabee dressed as well, then they packed their saddle bags, pulled on their coats and headed downstairs.  The boy looked up from where he was sweeping the floors and smiled.  "Tibido says the horses'll be ready when you want 'em.  He even gave 'em an extra helping of grain, no charge."

"Appreciate it," Larabee replied, lifting his finger to the brim of his hat.

"Hope you make it back this way again," the boy replied, watching the two men leave.

The two peacekeepers crossed the street to the restaurant, taking seats where they could keep an eye on who came and went.  A few minutes later they were enjoying eggs, bacon, biscuits, fried potatoes and onions, and a stack of flapjacks.  Cups of hot coffee were kept full by the young woman who served them their food.  When they had eaten their fill, they paid, Chris asking for a bucket for later.  The young woman took their money and went to the kitchen to fix them a mid-day meal, which she packed in lunch buckets, taking them out for them.

After a stop at the livery, they rode out, heading to the spot Chris was interested in.

It took nearly an hour before Chris led them off the trail they had been following and into the foothills.  Another hour passed before they rounded the base of a hill and entered a small stand of canyon hackberry trees.  Vin heard the sound of running water, and gave Peso his head to make his way over to it.  It was a small creek, narrow but a few feet deep in places and flowing with some force.

The two men dismounted and allowed the horses to drink.  Vin reached up and pulled several of the yellow/orange fruit from the tree and ate them, the sweet taste making him grin.

"Here," he said, tossing one of the fruit to Chris, who tried it as well, nodding at the flavor and the sweetness.  "Never tried this before."

"Call 'em sugarberries, and y' can toast the seeds up and eat those, too.  Right tasty."  He gestured to a tall Palo Verde and added, "Y' can eat the flower in that one, an' the seeds are good cooked, so long as they're full sized an' green."

When the horses had drank their fill, Chris swung back into his saddle, Vin following suit.  They started up the creek until they came to an area where the creek widened out into a good-sized pool.

Chris guided Pony to the shade of a stand of tall hackberry trees and dismounted, securing the gelding to a sturdy branch.  Vin did the same with Peso, the watched as the gunslinger stripped until he was a naked as the day he was born.  Without a look back at Vin, he walked out into the water.  Near the center of the pool the water was deeper than Vin would have guessed, and Larabee dipped under the surface and began to swim.

When the blond surfaced and swung around to look at Vin, he was grinning.  It had that same hunger to it that had captured Tanner's attention before.  "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Vin grinned back and shook his head.  "Ain't much fer swimmin'," he admitted.

"C'mon," Larabee instructed, "I'll show you."

Nervous, but unable to resist, Vin undressed and walked out into the water, which was sun-warmed and quite pleasant.  As he got closer to the center of the pool the water turned a little colder, but it wasn't too bad.

Good to his word, Chris gave the tracker his first swimming lesson, and it wasn't long before Vin was keeping up pretty well with the blond.

When they grew tired, they climbed out onto some flat rocks to rest and warm in the sun.  Vin shivered as he felt the water dripping from his hair to run down his back and over his sides.  He guessed this was the Sabino Creek, and they were somewhere in the canyon of the same name.  Looking down into water, he wished that the fish in the creek were larger.  He knew they were tasty, but a grown man needed several to make a meal.

Vin turned his head and looked at the blond, who had obviously been watching him.  The hungry look was back.  "What're y' thinkin'?"

Larabee immediately looked away.  "Don't think you'd want to know."

"Won't know 'til y' tell me an' find out."

Chris sighed and rolled over onto his back, using his folded arms to cradle his head.  "Growing up, I always had my eye on the pretty girls…"

Vin chuckled.  "Reckon I did too," he said, thinking that he'd also noticed all the handsome young men in the tribe as well, and maybe more often.

"During the war I saw some things…  Didn't seem natural at first, but in the middle of that hell… it started to make more sense."

Vin could imagine quite easily what the gunslinger was talking about.  He'd seen men pair up during the war, using each other's bodies as an escape from the horrors around them.  He might have done the same, if he'd met someone he'd felt he could trust, and who had attracted him.  "Yep," he replied.

That caught Chris' attention and he rolled back over, his gaze pinning Vin's.  "Never thought I'd want to do that, try any of that, but…"

The corner of Tanner's mouth twitched with amusement.  "Some fella catch yer eye?"

The green eyes narrowed.  "You could say," he half-growled.

Determined not to make it easy for the blond, Vin nodded.  "Y' think y' might 'a caught his eye?"

"Don't know," Larabee growled this time, "goddamn bastard won't usually carry on much of a conversation."

Vin nodded thoughtfully.  "Yep, know a man like that m'self."

Chris huffed out a long sigh through his nostrils and the tracker tried his hardest to look innocent, but failed miserably.  "That mean you're interested?"

Vin pretended to think for a long moment before he nodded slowly, "Reckon I'm interested in a lot 'a things…"

Chris started muttering under his breath.  Vin couldn't make out much, but what he could might make even Buck blush.

Deciding he should put Larabee out of his misery, Vin said, "Reckon I've been interested since I saw y' standin' there across the street while all hell was breakin' loose."

Chris looked up, surprised.  "You were?"

Vin nodded.  "Hell, Chris, ain't a damn thing wrong with bein' interested; never 'a done nothin', or said nothin', 'less y' did first."

That gave Larabee a moment's pause.  Then he nodded.  "Guess I figured if you didn't hear what I was saying with the looks I was sending your way, you weren't interested…"

"Oh, I was interested, an' hopin', but jumpin' the gun when it comes t' things like that can get a man kilt."

Chris nodded.  He'd heard stories, but never paid them much mind.  Now?  Now he'd pay more attention.  Now he'd have to make sure he and Vin didn't end up like some of the men he'd heard about.  He met Vin's gaze and held it.  "Won't be easy."

"Hell, Cowboy, ain't had much 'a easy, no reason this should be any different…"

Chris smiled thinly.  "Gonna have to find someplace—"

"Don't you worry 'bout that," Vin told him, blue eyes twinkling with anticipation, "I know plenty 'a places a man can find some privacy."

Chris nodded.  "I'll leave that to you, then."

Vin rolled over and scrambled over to the rock where Chris was laying on his belly.  He dropped down next to the man, then reached out and cupped the back of Larabee's head, which turned to meet him.  Their lips met in a quick, testing kiss.  They grinned at each other.

The second kiss was longer, more intense.  They parted, each a little breathless.

"Know anyplace 'round here?" Chris asked, the hunger in his eyes making Vin hard.

Tanner nodded.

"Good to hear," Larabee replied.

End