ATF Universe
Disclaimer: If life truly were a fairy tale, the boys would be mine. Sigh...
Comments: This is all the fault of a coworker. (And Kim, of course. Cause it's always her fault. This was supposed to console her for the loss of her computer.) Anyway, my coworker left a couple romance novels at our desk and the guys here made a couple of teasing remarks and I was bored so... there you have it.
"Hey, anyone read the latest V.T. Sharpe?" Buck Wilmington waved a dog-eared paperback in the direction of his coworkers as he maneuvered his way through the maze of desks and debris, which comprised the 11th floor ATF office of the Magnificent Seven. "Hoo wee, it's hot, let me tell you," Buck continued, before any of his fellow agents had a chance to reply.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that one of those dreadful excuses for literature that are commonly referred to as 'bodice rippers'?" Ezra Standish drawled, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, Buck. I thought only girls read that stuff." JD wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"Perhaps Mr. Wilmington feels he is lacking sufficient romance in his everyday life, JD." Ezra smiled wickedly. "Or perhaps our comrade secretly yearns for a tall, dark stranger, with mighty thews and bronzed chest, to ravish him."
"With Buck here, it would more likely be the other way around. That tall dark stranger is the one who'd need to watch his virtue," Nathan contributed, grinning.
Buck remained unruffled, despite the teasing. "It's that kind of attitude that explains why you fellas don't have anything better to do on Friday nights than hang out with each other."
"Buck has the right of it," Josiah said sagely, looking up from his paper. "I always considered reading romance novels in the nature of research. Women are complex creatures, and we men shouldn't shun any source of information that might contribute to our understanding of them."
"Thank you, Josiah. I rest my case." Buck shot the other men a triumphant look. They remained unimpressed.
"I still ain't reading no book called", JD peered at the cover of the novel in question, "A Hero's Heart."
"Should've been called A Hero's Hunka Hunka Burning Love, more like," Nathan snorted.
Buck shook his head in mock sadness. "Spoken like the poor, ignorant SOB's ya'll are. Except Josiah, of course."
"Hey, Vin. What about you? Where do you stand on this issue?" Buck turned his attention to the silent sharpshooter, the only one of them making any pretense of actually working.
Vin glanced up briefly. "Never read any romance novels, so I can't really say." The barely discernible emphasis on the word 'read' went unnoticed. The lanky, blue eyed agent then shrugged and turned his attention back to the computer screen before him.
"Yeah, but would you read one?" Buck persisted.
Vin shrugged his shoulders again, without looking up from his computer. "Maybe."
"And maybe Mr. Tanner is merely too polite to tell you that he would sooner swim in a lake full of alligators, Buck." Ezra shot the other man a smug look. "Isn't that correct, my friend?" Ezra nudged the sharpshooter with one elegantly shod foot.
Vin was saved from having to reply by the appearance of Chris Larabee. "You boys have all your work done? And it's only 8:30 in the morning? I'm impressed." The dry tone of their leader caused Nathan and JD to smile sheepishly, while Josiah continued to serenely read his paper and Buck and Ezra both swiveled around to look directly at Chris. A faint color spread across the sharpshooter's face at the sound of Chris's voice and he hunched further into his chair. Fortunately for Vin's peace of mind, his coworkers failed to take note of this unusual reaction on his part.
"Hey there, pard," Buck greeted cheerfully, not one whit abashed by Chris's sarcasm. "You ever read one of Sarah's romance novels on the sly?" A year or two ago, even Buck wouldn't have dared mention that name, but Chris had attained some measure of peace since the formation of Team 7 and the memory of his wife and child no longer sent him into a tailspin. Buck was eternally grateful to time, God, cable TV or whatever or whoever had caused the change in Chris Larabee. Buck had loved Sarah and Adam with a fierce devotion and not being able to talk about them with the only other person who remembered them like he did had been a kind of Hell.
"No. But she used to read the good parts out loud." Chris flashed his all too seldom seen grin and walked over to lean across Vin and grab a sheaf of papers off his desk.
"Well boys, my voice may not be as sweet as Sarah's, but the ladies ain't complained yet. Listen and learn." Buck cleared his throat, ignoring the snort of disbelief from JD, and opened the book to page 77.
"Maybe you could squeeze in a few minute's work in between chapters, Buck?" Chris suggested, heading back towards his office.
"Hold on there a minute, Chris. You might like this," Buck smiled widely.
At Buck's words, Vin's head shot up and he looked around at the tall, blond figure of their leader. "Chris, I gotta talk to ya about this case I'm workin' on. Got a few questions."
"They can wait." Buck waved a hand impatiently at the sharpshooter. "I want Chris to hear this."
"Go on." Chris folded his arms and waited for Buck to continue. "Unless this can't wait, Vin?" Chris shot a slightly puzzled glance at the sharpshooter. "No," Vin muttered. "I reckon it can wait."
Everyone was looking at Buck now, their curiosity roused. Never one to keep an audience waiting, the mustached agent quickly began reading.
Vincent's gaze traveled slowly up Christine's body. She stood before him tall and proud, her blonde hair and green eyes making her stand out like a beacon of light amongst the darker hued women of the Comanche tribe. The long haired, rangy young tracker lowered his voice til it was aseductive purr."I want you. I want to taste your sweet essence, to touch your silken skin, to breathe in the purity of your soul." The words were a declaration. More than he'd meant to say. His lips curved upwards in a small smile. He could not regret saying them.
"And how do you know my soul is so pure, tracker?" She spoke challengingly, but the husky tone of her voice betrayed her own desire. And her answering smile was its own declaration.
"It shows itself in your every action, your every word." Vincent closed the distance between them until he could feel the heat of her through the thin shift she wore.
"I..." Christine felt warm lips crush her own, cutting off the words she had been about to utter. With a moan, she surrendered to the delicious feelings this man was conjuring up in her. And conjuring was indeed an appropriate word. His every touch was magic, filling her body with an almost unbearable need.
Feeling her mouth open beneath his, Vincent deepened the kiss, tangling one hand in the silky blonde hair cascading down her back. He could feel her own hands shift til they rested on his backside, caressing and pulling him closer. He was glad she was no fainting maid. He wanted her to desire him as desperately as he desired her. And it appeared the spirits had granted his wish.
Buck stopped reading and looked up from the book.
"Hey!" JD cried indignantly. "You can't stop now. You're just about to get to the good stuff." The young agent blushed as he realized what he'd just said.
"Indeed, Mr. Dunne," Ezra murmured.
"Maybe I'll borrow Raine's copy," Nathan smiled. "She don't usually read romance novels, but she says these ones are different. And I wanna find out what happens next, anyway."
"Me too," Josiah agreed. "I may have to pay a visit to our local bookstore."
"You can borrow my copy, JD," Buck offered, smiling devilishly. "Maybe you can read the good stuff to Casey. Just don't let Nettie catch you doing it."
"Shut up, Buck," JD said, reaching for the book.
"All right, boys. We've all had our cheap thrills and fun for the day. It's time to get back to work." Chris straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the wall by his office, but Buck wasn't quite done yet.
"You fellas notice any resemblance between our fair heroine and Chris here?" Buck shot a sideways look at Chris, blithely ignoring the ferocious scowl being sent his way.
"Hmmmm... Blonde hair, green eyes, a feminine version of our illustrious leader's name. I do see your point. The purity of soul remark leads me to believe however, that whomever wrote this couldn't possibly be well acquainted with the same Mr. Larabee as ourselves." The scowl was now turned in Ezra's direction. The southern agent merely smiled impudently in return.
"Is there something you're not telling us, Brother Chris?" Josiah rumbled,joining in the fun. "You know anything about a secret life of his, Vin?" The big man winked the sharpshooter as Chris shook his head, not certain if he was more angry or amused by the turn the conversation had taken.
"No," Vin exclaimed, a little too forcefully. A fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead. "You're talkin' crazy, all ya'll. Anyway that description fits more than just Chris."
"Vin's got a point. It fits Mary Travis, too," Nathan mused thoughtfully.
"And the hero guy is a tracker named Vincent, kind of like Vin," JD pointed out excitedly. "So maybe Mrs. Travis wrote the book cause she has a crush on Vin." Everyone just looked at him and JD gulped, glancing nervously at Chris and then at the sharpshooter.
"JD, don't go tellin' everyone that Mary wrote that book," Vin said in disgust.
"Who is this V.T. Sharpe, anyway? Does it say?" Nathan asked. He was nothing if not practical.
"Nope. It's a big ol' mystery. No one knows who she really is. There ain't even a blurb on the back telling where she's from or anything." Buck shook his head.
"Well then, it looks like you boys will just have to do some work to take your mind off your disappointment." Chris smiled and glanced around the room, hesitating a bit when his gaze passed over Vin, who was apparently enthralled by the report he was reading, since he failed to look up and meet Chris's eyes.
Under their leader's gimlet eye, everyone eventually settled down and got back to business as usual, causing one lanky, long haired sharpshooter to heave a quiet sigh of relief.+ + + + + + +
Vincent gazed down at the sleeping beauty in his arms. He'd never believed in fairy tale endings. Until now.The End
Vin Tanner typed the last words and then sighed heavily, arching his back and flexing tired fingers. Writing these books took a lot out of him. But they were the only release he had. His dreams needed somewhere to go or they would drive him crazy. And at least this way maybe someone else could make use of his dreams since they weren't likely to ever do him any good.
He had to be more careful, though. Havin' Buck walk into work yesterday with one of his books had nearly given him a damn heart attack. He'd figured when he started writin' that it wouldn't be hard keepin' it a secret since none of the boys would be caught dead readin' them kinds of novels. He should've known better. But he'd damn well keep this secret or die tryin'. Famous last words.
Dialing up the internet, he decided to check his e-mail while he was at the computer. Because after spending the whole of today sitting at the damn desk in his stuffy apartment, he had no plans on getting anywhere near it the rest of the weekend.
There was nothing of interest in his e-mail and he was about to sign off when an instant message from Chris popped up on his screen. Chris wanted him to send some files from the case he'd worked on last week. Ignoring the familiar feeling of disappointment in his gut, Vin assembled the necessary files and sent them off. Then he decided he might as well send the rough draft he'd just finished, the sequel to A Hero's Heart, off to his publisher. Then hopefully he could forget about it for a while. Along with the feelings it was supposed to exorcise.
Another instant message from Chris popped up on his screen as he was getting ready to sign off again. Just like before. We have to talk, Vincent, it said.
Halfway through typing his response with shaking fingers, his computer flickered and died. Vin sat there, staring at the blank screen and wondering what kind of ending this story was going to have. If the sick feeling in his gut was any indication, he might have to take up writing horror novels.
PART TWO - HAPPILY EVER AFTER
Vin was still sitting in front of his dark and silent computer screen when Chris arrived, knocking at the door. It was far too soon for the other man to have driven all the way from the ranch outside town to Vin's Purgatorio apartment. Unless he'd been speedin' like Racer X the whole goddamn way. Which he probably had, if he knew it was Vin that had been writin' them books and not some gal named V.T. Sharpe.
Vin got slowly to his feet and walked over to the front door, which was in danger of being battered down if he didn't open it in the next five seconds. Well, at least this experience was proving to be damn good research for his next book. He now knew exactly what it felt like to have your knees quiverin' and your throat tight and your mind in a whirl and your gut churning with fear. And anticipation. He knew it was sick, but he couldn't help it. Chris could probably beat the shit out of him and his treachorous body would consider it foreplay, just because it was Chris's hands touchin' him.
Vin stood in front of the door for a moment, undecided. What the hell was he gonna say? What the hell was Chris aimin' to do? Well, he wasn't gonna get any answers just standin' here. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.
A real live fire breathin' dragon strode into the room, wearing the guise of Chris Larabee. Well, shit. Vin didn't reckon the only sword he had on him was gonna do the job, in this case. No matter how much it was stirrin' around in his pants, wanting to give it a try. Chris looked damn good in black. Vin closed the door and turned to face the dragon errr... Chris.
"What the hell is this, Vin?" Chris waved a sheaf of papers in his direction.
"Looks like a bunch of papers, Chris," Vin drawled, leaning back against the door and folding his arms.
"I know they're a bunch of papers, Vin," Chris explained sweetly-dangerously-, through clenched teeth. "I printed them out myself, from the files you sent me. But I don't recall any case we were working on that involved Vincent, Christine and a bearskin rug!"
"Yeah, well. I reckon it got sent to you by accident. Sorry about that, cowboy." Vin was doing his damndest to stay cool. Chris couldn't know how he really felt. It was hard enough witnessing the destruction of all his hopes and dreams first hand. He'd be damned if he'd let anyone see him water the ashes of his dreams with tears. Especially not Chris.
"Sorry? Sorry that I found out? Sorry you didn't tell me? What exactly are you sorry for, Vin? I didn't think a famous author like yourself would have to be sorry about anything." Chris's tone was biting and his green eyes were cold as a mountain glacier.
"Ain't famous, Chris. It ain't about that. Hell, I still can't give a speech if more than three people are in the room. You know that." Chris didn't respond to Vin's attempt at humor. He just stood there staring at Vin. Waiting. Vin sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell ya about the book, Chris."
"So tell me now, Vin. Were you even going to bother saying goodbye when the time came or were me and the rest of the boys going to find that out by accident, too?"
"Goodbye? What the hell are you talkin'about, Chris? You ain't kickin' me off the team, are ya?" Vin felt the cold knot of fear in his belly harden.
"Surely a guy who sells as many books as you do isn't planning on working himself to death in a thankless job like ours? You probably make more on one book than I'll make in the next twenty years."
"I never looked on our job as thankless. I always figured we were doin' some good and that was all the thanks I ever needed. Thought you felt the same way. Never knew you had such a hankerin' for money, Chris." Vin felt a stab of disillusionment.
Chris raked his hands angrily through his hair. "This ain't about me. If I'd wanted to be rich, I sure as hell would have picked another career. This is about you and what the hell you think you're doing."
"I'm doing the same thing I always have, Chris. I go to work, where hopefully I help catch a few of the bad guys, and then I come home where hopefully I write books that will entertain a few people. That's all."
"That's all," Chris repeated, his face set. "So you plan on things staying the same as they have been, then?"
"I reckon." Vin was a bit confused. He'd thought Chris was pissed because he'd figured out that Vin had been writin' about him. And now, it was obvious Chris was pissed, but Vin wasn't quite sure why, anymore. It wasn't like the older man to get upset over a man keepin' his own counsel. No. Chris Larabee knew all about secrets and how to keep them. So what had gotten his back up?
"So you don't plan on proposing to Mary any time soon, then? The two of you are happy enough with the way things are?" Chris asked sneeringly.
"Mary?" Now Vin was really confused. What the hell did Mary Travis have to do with anything?
"Yes. Mary. You know. Blonde hair. Green eyes. The woman you wrote about in your book."
So Chris did like Mary. Shit. And now he thought that she and Vin... awww hell. Well, he could add the feeling of having your heart actually break right in two to his repertoire. Well, at least now he knew why Chris was mad.
"Mary ain't the only person in the world looks like that," Vin pointed out quietly, trying not to hate Mary Travis too much. Wasn't her fault. It was Chris Larabee's fault, dammit. Blind. Stubborn. Pigheaded. Smart. Honorable. Brave. Damn him, anyway.
"Maybe not. But she's the only one you know. Unless you got some other lady tucked away that we don't know anything about. You've proved you're good at keeping secrets." Chris's voice was still bitter. Like the coffee Josiah liked to drink.
"You got blond hair, Chris. And green eyes." Vin hadn't meant to say it. The words had just slipped out. Part of a dream that just plumb refused to lay down and die.
"Yeah? So? What's that got to do with...?" Chris stopped abruptly as understanding dawned. Vin watched the emotions chase each other across Chris's face. Disbelief. Shock. Anger. And then nothing.
"It's got everything to do with you, cowboy," Vin said the words, not knowing what he hoped to gain by them, just knowing that it was a relief to finally say them. And at least he had a second career to fall back on when Chris booted him out on his ass. Although, he'd have to find something else to write about. If there was no Chris in his life, then there would be no dreams either.
"So, I'm Christine," Chris said flatly.
Vin nodded.
"You made me a woman."
Vin nodded again.
"Goddammit, Vin. You've got some nerve."
Vin looked up at him. "No. Just a good imagination."
"Well then, next time try imagining you as the woman. I'd like to be able to exercise my manhood once in a while. And a brown haired blue eyed heroine would make a nice change, don't you think?" Chris smiled wolfishly, while Vin just stood there, numb with shock.
"Exercise your manhood?" Vin asked, finally.
"Like this." Chris closed the gap between them and grasped Vin by the shoulders. Seconds later, Vin felt a pair of warm, soft lips sliding across his own.
"What about Mary?" Vin asked, when he could breathe again.
"You don't plan on writing a book about her, do you?" Chris demanded.
"No."
"Ok, then." Chris started trailing his lips down Vin's neck, making it difficult to think of anything else.
"But..." Vin gasped, persistently.
"Vin..." Chris raised his head and glared down at the sharpshooter. "I don't recall Vincent and Christine doing all this talking. Now where are you hiding that bearskin rug?"
Vin gave up. Fairy tales weren't meant to be examined too closely, after all. They were just meant to be lived. Happily ever after, if he had anything to say about it.
And it was happily ever after for Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee. For the most part, anyway.
THE END
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