Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Isn't that sad?
Comments: This was inspired in part by Joanne's mention of a story idea. I borrowed a smidgen of inspiration. (You'll know which part when you read the story) Thank you. I hope you don't mind too much. Anyway, feedback is always appreciated. I apologize if this reads less than smooth. I wanted to write a funny story. But this one wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to write it up quick so I could get back to what I really want to write. <g>
Vin Tanner knew he was grinnin' like a fool, as he walked rapidly through the lobby of the Federal building which housed ATF headquarters. Knew it. But didn't give a damn. He had a song in his heart and a spring in his step to go along with it, as a matter of fact.The lanky, softspoken young agent came to a halt in front of the lobby elevators. As he pushed the button, he began whistling the theme from the Magnificent Seven. The nickname by which Chris Larabee's special ATF task force team was known.
Chris Larabee. Vin's smile grew even wider, if that was possible. He stepped into the elevator, supremely unaware of the admiring feminine glances being tossed his way. Visions of the tall, blonde ATF leader filled his thoughts. The same way they'd been doin' the past three years. Ever since he'd met the man in a blaze of gunfire in some abandoned warehouse. The electric shock of that green gaze was something he would never forget. Hell, how could he? He'd seen it, felt it, practically every day since.
The sharpshooter had spent three long years pining away like some moonstruck calf. Wondering when, or if, Chris was ever gonna wake up and smell the whiskey. Wondering what would happen if he did. And now it looked like he was gonna find out. Tonight. At Chris' house. But first, he had a class to teach. His karate class at the local YMCA. And to do that, he needed his gym bag. Which he'd forgotten in his office upstairs. Which was why he was here, instead of halfway to class like he should've been.
Vin usually enjoyed teaching this class. Enjoyed spending time with the kids, teaching them something worthwhile. But tonight, it felt like just one more thing keeping him from the arms of Chris Larabee. Because Vin was positive that was where he was going to wind up. If only the two gunrunners had waited just five more minutes the other night while he and Chris were on stakeout. He just knew the older man had been about to kiss him. But you couldn't depend on a criminal to do anything right. Vin hoped those two dumb bastards went down for a long time. A very long time.
When the brief flurry of action and the more lengthy blizzard of paperwork had been done, Chris had called him into his office. Looking Vin straight in the eye, he had remarked that there were a few things they needed to talk about and how did dinner out at his place on Friday night sound? It sounded like heaven to the sharpshooter. And so he had told Chris. Not in those exact words. But close enough. And Chris had seemed to like his answer well enough, if a million kilowatt smile was anything to go by.
So Vin had high hopes for this evening. Hopes that would damn near kill him if they weren't realized. He'd waited so long. Prayed so hard. Wanted so much. Chris just had to return his feelings. Had to tell him that tonight. And he would tell Chris. Tell him how a single smile from those lips lit Vin up like a Christmas tree. How that low, soft voice sent shivers down his spine. And finally, how just bein' near Chris made him feel happy.
Vin stepped off the elevator and headed down the hall towards the set of rooms which comprised the team's offices. Everyone had already left for the evening, so Vin was surprised to see a light on under Chris' door. He was about to go in, eager for any glimpse of the man he could get, when the sound of voices made him pause. Particularly the sound of his own name being spoken.
"Are you going to tell Vin tonight, then?" asked the voice of Mary Travis.
"Yeah. I have to, Mary. This dancing around the issue has to stop. He deserves to know the truth about us." Chris sounded weary. Not exactly like he shared Vin's own jubilant spirits. A flicker of unease passed through the young agent. Had he been completely wrong about the other night? No. He couldn't have been.
"How do you think he'll take the news?" Mary didn't sound too concerned. More curious than anything. Like she already knew she'd won? Vin had always been aware of the attraction between Chris and Mary. But he'd always thought it was more on Mary's part than on Chris'. Had he been wrong about that too? A sick feeling began to creep over him.
"I'm hoping he'll be able to at least handle it, if not be happy about it. And that we can all manage to be on our feet when the dust settles." Chris' voice held a faint thread of amusement. But Vin could hear the apprehension in it, as well. What was Chris worried about? That Vin was gonna kick up some sort of fuss about something? About what? And then he had his answer. The sound of lips meeting. Then Mary's soft reply.
"I hope so, too, Chris." Vin could hear footsteps approaching the door. Heart pounding, he fled back out the office and ran down the hall. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!, he berated himself as he ran. Chris had never had any intentions of confessing his feelings for Vin, tonight, or any other night. It had sounded more like he was giving Vin his walking papers. Before he'd even gotten the chance to go anywhere. Mary Travis was going to be the one to wake up next to Chris. The one who would share his bed. His life. His love. The thought caused him to falter a bit and he staggered against the wall, welcoming the pain. A bruised shoulder hurt a whole lot less than a broken heart. Oh God. Another thing to add to Chris Larabee's sins. The man had him sounding like a country and western song and Vin hadn't even had his first beer yet.
Vin could feel his face burning as he thought about the conversation he'd just overheard. It had sounded like Mary knew exactly how the sharpshooter felt about his boss. Did everyone? Was the whole office secretly laughing at him? Had Chris finally gotten tired of it? Ceased to find it amusing? And decided to put a stop to it? Tonight? All these goddamned questions. Not one of which he really wanted to hear the answer to. Not now. Now all he wanted was to go home and lick his wounds.
He stumbled blindly into an elevator, not even realizing it was occupied until the soft sound of weeping caused him to raise his head.. A young woman with sandy blonde hair and tear reddened hazel eyes was huddled in a corner. She was vaguely familiar. Something to do with accounting, he thought.
"I'm sorry." The girl whimpered when she saw him glance down at her. "I can't seem to stop crying. My fiance broke it off just now. Over the telephone, if you can believe it. At work!" She swiped angrily at her overflowing eyes, muttering about spineless worms and other things the sharpshooter was probably better off not knowin'.
"Sorry." Vin didn't know what else to say. His own pain was too great to really allow much in the way of comfort for others, anyway.
The young woman shrugged dispiritedly. "You know any place around here that serves good drinks? I could sure use one, or more, right about now."
"There's a couple of places around the corner." It was an effort for the sharpshooter to recall even that much. All his traitorous mind wanted to think about was Chris.
"You look like you've had a rough night, too. Want to join me? We can drown our sorrows together." Her voice was overly bright, the veneer of control dangerously thin.
Vin thought of Chris, upstairs with Mary. Cold, icy tendrils of rage clawed their way into his heart. Why the hell not? He'd been livin' like a damn monk. Savin' himself for Chris. What a joke. It was more than time for Vin to get out and make a life that didn't include that goddamn son of a bitch. The way Chris had so obviously done.
"Let's go." Vin replied, ushering her out the elevator door and into the lobby. Chris Larabee could go to hell and take his explanations with him.
+ + + + + + +
Whiskey. The scent of smoke layered with perfume. Heat. Noise. Then more whiskey. And more. Til he no longer noticed the heat or the noise. Til the scent of pain and anger in the air overwhelmed everything else. Til taking a ride to the airport and catching the first flight to Vegas seemed like the perfect plan.
There was a small part of him that was aware of what he was doing. That tried to talk him out of it. That suggested he call Chris and talk to him. But the whiskey soaked, pain ridden part of him proved to be stronger. That part was bent on revenge. No matter what the cost. The anguish of the past three years, the desperate hope he'd nurtured, the memory of hearing those lips meet. They all demanded that he take action. That he do something to strike back. They demanded that someone else suffer. And Vin was going to oblige. He'd make sure they were all wounded and bleeding when the dust settled.
The sensation of skin on skin had nothing of pleasure in it, for either of them. But they cared nothing for that. It was not pleasure they were seeking. Vin wondered whether he felt as wrong to Shannon, (he'd finally thought to ask her name), as she did to him. Whether his body felt as foreign to her. And whether it mattered to her. It didn't matter to him. Nothing mattered to him except causing Chris Larabee pain. And if this didn't work, he would find some other way.
As his body found release, he cried out a name. It wasn't hers. But then the name she cried out wasn't his. A perfect match. Just not for each other. But it was too late to turn back now. His path had been chosen. The only thing left to do was to begin the journey.
+ + + + + + +
Where the hell have you been?" Chris Larabee stepped out of the shadows as Vin opened the door to his apartment and walked in, still dressed in the same clothes he'd left work in yesterday afternoon. Only twenty-four hours ago. Might as well have been a lifetime. Everything had changed now. And none of it for the better.
"Vegas." he replied shortly, glancing defiantly at the extremely angry blonde man standing there looking oddly vulnerable, in spite of that.
Vin's answer shocked Chris enough that he just stood there for a moment, looking confused.
"Did something happen, Vin?" The anger was overlaid by concern. The tender note brought a lump to the sharpshooter's throat. What had he done?
"You were supposed to come out to the ranch for dinner last night. So we could ...talk." The hesitation as Chris spoke the last word was barely noticeable. But it galvanized the younger man.
"Talk? So you could tell me all about you and Mary? And how I aint wanted in that particular picture? Let me save you the trouble. I got some news of my own. I got married yesterday." Vin spat the words, willing them to find their target. To hurt.
"What picture? Not wanted? Where the hell did you get a crazy notion like that? There is no me and Mary. There was supposed to be me and you." The anger was rapidly returning to his voice as Chris struggled to decipher Vin's meaning. Then the last part of Vin's speech sunk in.
"Married?" The green eyes were startling in the suddenly pale face. Vin wondered if his own face looked that way. As if all the life and warmth had been drained out of it. As if he'd just been dealt a mortal wound. He suspected it did.
"Chris...I..." Vin had to force the words out through a throat gone dry and tight.
"Congratulations." Chris' voice was cool and remote. Looking into the depths of those shuttered eyes, Vin knew he would never see them any other way again. And he was reminded of an old saying he'd heard. Before you go out for revenge, first dig two graves. One for your victim. The other one for yourself.
THE END
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