ATF Universe
I received a fax this morning from Vin Tanner. He's requested a few days personal time and a transfer to another team." AD Travis pursed his lips and glanced up at Chris Larabee. "You know anything about this?" "Shit." Chris cursed, slamming his fist into his open palm."I take it you were unaware of this request?" AD Travis remarked dryly. "Deny it." Chris ordered and the older man's eyes narrowed.
"I will neither accept nor deny anything until I have given it my full consideration."
"I'm telling you to deny it, AD Travis." Chris Larabee spoke in a low, threatening tone, leaning over, the palms of his hands flat on the other man's desk.
"Vin is a grown man, Chris. I don't think I will find a valid reason to deny his request, as unhappy as it might make me. Or you." AD Travis's voice was flat. He was intimidated by no man, not even Chris Larabee. Which was the only reason why Chris had agreed to work for him in the first place.
"I have a reason for you. As of today, I'm taking an indefinite leave of absence, effective immediately. You can't afford to lose two of us. Offer Vin command of the team. If he doesn't want the responsibility, I believe Josiah could do a decent job."
"Goddammit, Chris. You can't just waltz in here and tell me you're taking a leave of absence! What the hell is going on? And what does this have to do with Vin's request for a transfer?" The older man was nearly shouting by this time, and it was with visible effort that he calmed down enough to look up at the somber blackclad figure on the other of the desk and wait for an answer.
"It's... personal. My responsibility. But I think you'll find that if I'm not on the team, that Vin will be willing to stay." Chris spoke quietly, his eyes meeting the older man's unflinchingly.
AD Travis sighed and shook his head. "As valuable as Tanner is, you have seniority, Chris. If it comes down to a choice between the two of you, well..." Orrin Travis let the words hang there, his meaning plain.
Chris tightened his lips, green eyes showing a hint of the blackest despair for just a split second as he fought for control - and won.
"There is no choice for you to make, Sir. It's already been decided. All that's left is the paperwork."
"Dammit, if I've got to lose one of my best agents, I'd sure as hell like to know why!"
Chris shook his head. "Call it making amends." AD Travis had never actually heard the sound of someone's soul bleeding before. He hoped he never heard it again.
"Chris, if there's anything I can do..." The tone was gruff, but the words were sincere and Chris smiled slightly upon hearing them.
"Just take good care of my team. I'm going to tell them my decision this morning. Right now. I should have my desk cleared out by afternoon." Chris tipped his hat in a gesture of respect and then walked out of the office, leaving the older man frowning grimly as he began filling out the appropriate paperwork.
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"About time you showed up you old dog, you!" Buck's cheerful greeting caused Chris to flinch inwardly. Buck doesn't know how close he is to the mark with that stupid comment.
"Please, Mr. Wilmington. Must you attribute your own scurrilous motivations to all and sundry?"
"I ain't sure what Ez just said, but I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be an insult of some kind, Buck."
"Very pereceptive of you, JD." Josiah's low rumble conatined a hint of laughter.
"Ain't that hard to reason out, Josiah. That's mostly what Ezra does is figure out new ways to insult a man so's you can't tell." Nathan snorted.
"Hey, where's Vin? We ain't seen him this morning and it ain't like him to be late."
"Maybe he's got that flu thing that's been going around. Casey had it and she was sick for a week. I bet..."
I need you boys in the conference room. I have something important to tell you." Chris interrupted the young agent and strode into the conference room at the far end of the room without looking back. One by one the others followed him, a bit puzzled and wondering what was in the works, but the thought of their team losing its leader never occurred to them. So Chris Larabee's next few words came as a nasty surprise.
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"What the hell are you talkin' about, Chris? A leave of absence? What in the blue blazes is that supposed to mean?" Buck was angry and didn't care who knew it.
"Are you tired of us?" JD, for all of his twenty-three years, had a hint of of little boy lost in the question
"I must admit this does come as a bit of a surprise, Chris." Josiah knit his brows together, a sure sign he was far more perturbed than he let on.
"Well, I admit to being a bit confused. Is there something wrong with you, Chris? Some medical problem?" Nathan always searched for practical, logical reasons first. Unfortunately, in an illogical, imperfect world these reasons were seldom to be found.
Only Ezra had remained quiet so far. He remembered the urgent business Vin had suddenly felt the need to take of the other night. Then he searched the depths of Chris's shuttered green eyes. And if his two and two didn't quite add up to four, it was close enough.
"Have you told Mr. Tanner of your decision yet?" The southern agent finally spoke.
"No. But I will." It would have taken a very discerning ear to hear the slight tremble in Chris's voice.
"Does Vin have somethin' to do with this?" Buck demanded. "Cause if he does, I don't see why you two don't just go out back and beat the crap out of each other so's we can all get back to normal."
"I believe the situation may be a bit too complex for a bout of fisticuffs to remedy." Ezra murmured.
"Ain't you and Vin friends anymore?" JD's voice was small. He'd never thought anything could come between the friendships he and the others shared.
"Don't worry, JD. Things aren't going to change that much. I just need some time off. I think I must have three years in back vacation time owed me." Chris tried to smile, but it was only partially successful. He'd never been much good at lying. It was why he left most of the undercover work to Ezra, Buck and Josiah. What he was good at was the full frontal assault leave no prisoners type of thing.
"Chris, you can't just..."
"Buck." Chris's tone was half plea, half command. "Just leave it, ok." Chris took a deep breath as Buck nodded slowly.
"You boys are the best damn ATF team in the country. Don't go thinking that just because I'm not around to keep you in line that you're going to be able to change that. You never know when I'll be back." Chris stopped. struggling to retain control.
"What Mr. Larabee is attempting to say is that he'll miss us dreadfully." Ezra was a master at deflecting emotion, both his own and other people's.
"Yeah. While I'm sipping mai tais on a beach in Maui, I'll be sure to spare you boys a thought or two." Chris had no intention of going to Maui, or anywhere else for that matter. But he couldn't face his friends' clumsy attempts at comfort or their rough sympathy when they found out about the rift between him and Vin. Hell, it wasn't like he could explain it anyway. None of them knew he and Vin were lovers. Well, except maybe for Ezra. Ezra made it a practice to know everyone's secrets.
"Maui? Well, I like that! Hmmphh!!" Buck snorted, covering any lingering emotion with loud complaints about the unfairness of life. He'd learned a long time ago to let Chris Larabee go. The only thing Buck Wilmington could do was hope he'd come back.
We'll miss you. brother. Call us when you get back from Maui, you hear?" Josiah gently grasped Chris's shoulder in a silent gesture of support. He didn't know what was wrong with their leader, but he didn't need to. He'd just be there if needed. And he'd pray. Hard.
"Yeah, Chris. We're all supposed to go camping next month, remember?" JD reminded him, trying to act more grown up than he felt.
"You relax on that beach. We'll be fine here. I'm getting pretty good at patching ya'll up when necessary." Nathan gave Chris his own reassurances, holding out his hand.
"Just please, I beg of you, spare me a souvenir from the airport gift shop. Between Buck and JD, I have an entire closetful of such items." The southern agent lowered his voice a bit. "And remember Mr. Larabee, that you still owe me a dollar, so please do stay in touch." Chris clapped Ezra briefly on the shoulder. He knew what the southerner was trying to say.
The goodbyes said, Chris walked into his offcie and began the painful process of packing up what remained of his life. He'd finished all but the last few odds and ends when he felt someone standing in the doorway.
"Buck." he said, without looking up.
"I ain't askin' you to tell me the real reason behind all this crap, Chris. But I am askin' that you tell me when it gets to be too much to handle alone and you let me help. You owe me that much."
"Yeah. I do." Chris's words were barely audible. "Thanks, Buck." He looked up finally, but the other man was already gone.
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"God damn him, Ror'! Still gotta have everything his way. Gotta make sure everyone suffers just like he wants. It wasn't enough that he wanted to chain me into some domineering type of romance shit, but now he wants to chain me to the career of his choice, too? Fuck him!" Vin Tanner paced up and down the confines of his small living room. If he'd had a tail, it would have been lashing from side to side.
"What the hell are you talking about, Tanner? And what's wrong with a little domineering romance shit once in a while? Sounds like fun." The sharpshooter's look quelled any further comments of that nature. "Ok. Ok. I'm sorry. But I still have no idea what you're talking about."
"You remember that fax I sent AD Travis requesting a few days off and a transfer to another team?"
"Well, considering you made me drive around town at three in the morning til we found a place that was open and had a fax machine, I'd find it hard to forget."
"Well, my request for a transfer has been denied. Seems like Mr. Super Agent Larabee beat me to the punch. He wants a leave of absence. And we all know how that bastard gets what he wants. But AD Travis was gracious enough to give me the rest of the week off. Wasn't that nice?" Vin whirled around, kicking the end of the couch in an attempt to vent some of his anger. It just hurt his bare foot and pissed him off more. And it was all Chris Larabee's fault.
"Maybe he thought he was doing you a favor, Vin." Rory said quietly, plucking at a loose thread on one of the couch cushions and carefully not looking at the sharpshooter.
"Quite an imagination you got there, Ror'."
"I mean, you've always told me how much the job meant to Chris. Maybe he figured giving his up so you could keep yours was the least he could do."
"No. See, Ror'. That would imply the bastard had feelings and gave a damn about me."
"Oh come on, Vin. You know the man loved you. Why else would he have given a flying fuck who you slept with?"
"Because no one plays with Chris Larabee's toys."
"I think he deserves more credit than that, Tanner."
"Well, you would, wouldn't you?" Vin replied nastily.
"I deserved that." Rory said quietly. "But you're not completely blameless in this either, Vin."
"Because I couldn't read his goddamned mind and figure out we were supposed to be this freaking happy couple of the year or something?"
"Things like that aren't that hard to read, Tanner. Not if you're looking for them."
"You don't know Chris Larabee, then." Vin said bitterly.
"Yes. I do. Maybe not as well as you, but..." Rory shrugged, his brown eyes looking steadily up at the sharpshooter.
"And why I don't just shoot you or kick your ass or at least throw you out of my damned house, I don't know."
"That's another story. One that can wait. Right now we're talking about you."
"And what words of wisdom do you have to say about me?"
"Just that you can be blind when it suits your purposes, Vin. When it's easier."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, it was always easier for you to tell yourself I'd shag anything that had a pulse and it was just sex between us. Cause that's the way you wanted it."
"You would shag anything with a pulse!"
"Maybe. That doesn't mean it was just sex all the time. Or that sex was all I ever wanted."
"Goddammit, Rory. I don't need to hear this shit right now."
"Don't worry, Tanner. You're old news." Rory quirked his lips in a brief smile. "All I'm saying is you ought to take a good hard look at the whole situation before you go throwing people away like you seem bent on doing."
"I figured you'd be glad me and Chris ain't together no more. You can move in and pick up right where you left off."
"Awww hell, Tanner. Don't think the idea isn't tempting. But first off, I know he wouldn't have me and second off, I got some atoning of my own to do. We've been friends a long time. I threw that away once, but I learn from my mistakes. Something you and Chris seem to have trouble with."
"Just shut the hell up and hand me a beer. I've got nearly a week to drink til I have to go back to work on Monday. Maybe if I get sick often enough between now and then, I can manage to puke Chris Larabee clean out of my system."
"I think it's more likely that you'll wind up with one hell of a headache." Rory muttered. But he got to his feet and went to fetch them both another beer.
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"Vin? You don't have to pick up the phone if you don't want to. I... just wanted to tell you that I'll be taking an extended leave of absence from work. So you don't have to... decide anything right away." Chris paused. "Vin? I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Chris hung up the phone quickly. He knew Vin was there. He knew Vin was listening to his message and hating his goddamned guts. Somehow Chris had never really thought about that part of things. He'd only thought about Vin hurting as much as he had been hurt. He hadn't actually thought about Vin hating him. Because he'd never hated Vin.
But the sharpshooter had made his feelings towards Chris abundantly clear when Chris had tried to call him over the weekend.
"Ain't got nothin' to say, Chris and I don't want to hear nothin' you got to say neither." The memory of the words made his gut clench with pain. If he'd ever needed reminding what a goddamned miserable excuse for a human being he was, all he had to do was remember the sharpshooter's next words.
"It ain't worth it, Chris. The pain. It ain't worth it." You ain't worth it. That was what Vin really meant and Chris couldn't blame him.
Chris just didn't have the ability to give up or give in. Never had. He might've wanted to hurt Vin, but he'd never wanted to give up on Vin. And now he'd left himself with no choice. What an incredibly stupid bastard he was. The only gift he had left to give that Vin would accept was the one thing he found almost impossible to do. Let him go.
But Chris Larabee owed Vin Tanner. If Vin wanted to be free of him, then that's what Chris would do - set him free. Even if it killed him.
He thought it just might kill him before it was all over. Talking to AD Travis this morning had hurt almost as bad as losing Vin. Because of his goddamned stupid pride, he'd had to give up his team, as well as Vin. If anything happened to Buck or Ezra or Josiah or Nathan or JD, Chris would have to carry it to the grave with him - knowing it was his fault. He puposefully didn't think about something happening to Vin. It would only take the slightest breath to knock over the fragile card house of sanity that was Chris Larabee at the moment.
Grimly, Chris picked up the bottle of whiskey that was on the end table next to him. He knew whiskey wouldn't solve anything. He'd learned that the hard way after Sarah and Adam had been killed. It was just that he didn't know what else to do. And it hurt so goddamned bad.
+ + + + + + + After drinking about a quarter of the whiskey in his bottle, Chris Larabee picked up the phone. Seconds later, it was ringing in his ear.
"Vin, if you're there pick up the phone please. I just think we ought to talk. Clear the air." Chris paused. "I'll be home the rest of the evening." He hung up the phone and poured some more whiskey into his glass.
After half of the bottle was gone, Chris picked up the phone again. Again he listened to it ring. Again he heard Vin's machine answer.
"Ain't here. State your business and I'll get back to ya." Shit. If Chris had left a message like that on his own machine, he would've been called an antisocial bastard. Vin did it and got called shy. Or quaint. Or they just explained it away by him being from Texas.
"Vin. Are you home yet? I ain't ready to give up on things yet. Call me." Chris hung up the phone, wondering how big a fool he was making out of himself. He'd thought earlier about maybe doing the noble thing and giving Vin his freedom. But the more he'd thought about it, the more he'd decided that was a damn stupid idea. If nothing else, he just needed to talk to Vin. Needed to maybe see if they could be friends again, if not lovers. But first, Vin needed to answer his goddman phone. Chris sighed and lifted the bottle of whiskey to his lips, not even bothering with the pretense of a glass this time around.
Three quarters of the way through the bottle, Chris tried again. He counted the rings. One two three all together now, Ain't here. State your business. I'll get back to ya. Maybe Chris could make a song out of it. The words had an eerie sort of cadence after you'd listened to them enough times. Shit. He was getting too drunk. If Vin didn't answer his phone soon, any chance they had of having a reasonable conversation would be deader than the proverbial doornail.
Chris tossed the cordless phone onto the couch next to him. Then he leaned back and massaged his temples with both hands. He didn't know what the hell he was doing. And he really should probably consider selling this couch. He'd fucked both Rory and Vin on it. And the last thing he needed was more memories to haunt him. More reminders of what a fucking idiot he'd been.
A short while later, Chris tossed the empty bottle of whiskey onto the carpet at his feet. Vin wasn't here to fuss at him about how he'd never get the damn smell out, so who cared right? He picked up the phone and stabbed at the buttons. He had to talk to Vin. Had to make Vin understand. Chris just wished he understood it better himself. It might help him to explain. But it didn't really matter. He could improvise if he had to.
"Vin. I want to talk to you, not your goddamned mach..." It took a few seconds for Chris to realize that he was talking to Vin and not his machine. Now he just had to figure out what to say before Vin hung up.
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"Are you getting some kind of sick pleasure out of this, Tanner? A hidden streak of sadism in you would explain a lot of things." Rory looked over at Vin who was replaying the messages from Chris on his answering machine for what seemed like the millionth time to Rory.
Vin shrugged. "He wanted to see me suffer. I'm just returning the favor."
"Jesus, but you can be a cold unfeeling bastard, Tanner." Rory exclaimed, a little shocked at his friend's reply. Vin had been mostly silent for the last several hours, ever since Chris had first started calling. Rory had just figured he was thinking. Maybe about the best way to patch things up with Chris. But apparently that hadn't been it.
"Hurts too much to be anything else, Ror'. Ain't you learned that by now? I would've thought Chris gave you a pretty good lesson in that, too." Vin's tone was brittle, cracks running every which way through both face and voice.
"The difference between you and Chris and me is that I take what I can get out of things and if it's not exactly what I wanted, well there's always another time, another place or another warm body. I may love, but I don't put my soul in hock to do it."
"A man don't always have a choice, Ror'. Sometimes it just happens." Vin shook his head. "But I ain't gonna let it happen again."
"Awww Tanner. Even I know what a load of hooey that is. You couldn't stop it this time. What makes you think you can do any better next time?"
"Cause there's only one Chris Larabee that I know of and I'm gonna stay as far away from him as I can get."
Rory nodded his head slowly. "You could do that. But I'm not sure you have it in you to live my kind of life anymore, Tanner. And you sure as hell ain't the celibate type. What is it exactly you plan on doing?"
"I plan on dating and and maybe finding someone special someday. They just won't make me forget who I am is all. Jesus, Rory. How the hell do I know?"
"So you're going to get into a relationship with some poor schmuck and when he gets all tied up in knots over your pretty face, you're going to say sorry pal, this far and no farther. Can't be falling in love with you now. It might hurt."
"Fuck you, Selkirk. I ain't in the mood for your shit."
"Too bad. You're too drunk to actually physically remove me from the premises and I hid your gun hours ago. So I'd say short of putting your hands over your ears or something equally ineffective, you don't have any choice."
"I swear even talking to Chris would be better than talking to you." As if the sharpshooter's words had conjured it up, the phone began ringing. Vin snatched it up and listened as Chris told him he didn't want to talk to Vin's goddamned machine.
"Well, I guess you got your wish then. Start talkin'. But you'd better talk fast cause I don't figure you're worth more than another thirty seconds or so outta my life."
"I'm sorry, Vin. I can't tell you how sorry I am."
"Sure you can, Chris. It just don't change nothin'." Vin was spoiling for a fight. The past few days with no one but Rory to talk to had left him with a volatile mix of emotions churning around inside. He knew it wasn't healthy, but he just couldn't talk to the others about this shit. He couldn't tell Ezra or Josiah or Buck about what had happened with him and Chris. He valued their friendship too much. Rory was different. They had a different kind of friendship. But Rory was all mixed up in it and everything was so confusing and goddamn he had a headache and it was all Chris's fault and why should he be the only one hurting like this? And ok, so he'd drank far too much and he probably shouldn't have picked up the phone, but how much worse could things get?
"No. I don't expect anything will change unless we both want it to." Chris's calm, logical reply infuriated Vin. Especially when he knew damn well Chris had probably drank more than he had.
"I thought I made it pretty damn clear that I didn't want to." Vin retorted.
"I thought maybe if we could talk a bit. If I could explain... not excuse, but explain..."
"I never thought I'd hear the great Chris Larabee reduced to practically begging. I oughtta sell tickets."
"God damn you, Vin."
"It's a good thing for me you ain't God, then, isn't it? Even though I ain't always sure you realize that."
"Vin..."
"You still ain't explained anything, Chris."
"I was... hurt. I wasn't thinking clearly."
"What's the matter Chris? Afraid all your rich friends will find out your little boy toy dumped your sorry ass?"
"Stop it, Vin."
"No. You wanted to talk. Or is it that you're the only one who's supposed to be doin' any talkin'? That hardly sounds fair. I thought you were a believer in being fair?"
"Vin..."
"And you can just stop with the whole guilt thing while you're at it. I don't need you to take a leave of absence to prove how fucking noble you are. If I want to transfer or quit or stay right the hell where I am, it's no concern of yours." Vin paused for breath and Rory took the opportunity to jerk the phone from his grasp.
"Now is not the best time, Chris." Rory spoke tersely into the phone and then hung it up, turning to stare at Vin. The sharpshooter stared back defiantly.
"He had it comin'." Vin muttered sullenly. The rush of anger and adrenalin was wearing off and he could taste the alcohol in the back of his throat. It ached and burned and stung kind of like his eyes. And every other part of him, come to think of it.
"Jesus, Tanner. I've seen a pack of hyenas make cleaner kills than that."
"Just leave it, Ror'. It's over and nothin' you can say is gonna change that fact. Me and Chris just don't have it in us to be right together." Vin's whole body sagged with the weight of that knowledge. He and Chris were both too wounded, too battered in body and spirit. They would just continue to hurt each other, neither one capable of fully trusting, fully forgiving. Shit. They probably deserved each other. But life just wasn't like that. Hardly anyone ever got what they deserved.
Rory just shook his head. He didn't know what the hell else to do for Vin. And there never had been anything he could for Chris. Dammit, Rory Selkirk needed to go out and get laid. Cheap, meaningless sex, that was the ticket. Because just look at what love did to you. But then he'd never loved anyone, not even Chris and Vin, the way they'd loved each other. So what the hell did he know?
Rory glanced at Vin who was curled up on the couch with his eyes closed. "You gonna be ok, Tanner?"
"Yeah. I'll see ya later, Ror'." Vin didn't open his eyes as Rory gave him one last look and quietly left the small apartment.
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Well, that was that. Now was not a good time, Rory had said. When was? When Hell froze over? Longer than that?
Chris gave a short, bitter laugh as he slowly replaced the phone on its cradle. He should know better than to ask for something, because there was always the danger that you might just get it. He'd demanded to talk to Vin instead of his machine and that's exactly what had happened. Vin had talked and talked and talked. Saying things that Chris could feel cutting deep inside his soul, drawing blood with every syllable. And there had been enought truth in what Vin had said to keep the wounds bleeding for a long time to come. But there hadn't been enough truth. Hadn't been the right kind of truth.
Chris wondered if Vin had ever really understood what he'd meant when he talked about love. It meant different things to different people and maybe his and Vin's definitions were just too different from each other.
He sat and stared at the walls for a while, trying not to think and failing miserably. Then he thought about going to bed and trying to get some sleep, but he didn't want to sleep in the bed he'd shared with Vin. And he'd used the guest bed for Rory's visits, so that was out, too. Ditto the damn couch. He was already imagining that he could smell the sharpshooter's scent in the leather. He had an old sleeping bag up on the shelf in the closet, didn't he? Or maybe he'd left it over Vin's. Shit. Maybe he ought to consider a hotel room or something. Get away, like he'd told the boys he was going to do.
The more he considered it, the more he liked the idea. He'd been sitting here staring at the walls and trying not to think about Vin for a few hours now. He'd drink a pot of coffee and he should be sober enough to drive. He didn't know where he was going, but then that pretty much summed up his whole life at this point. He'd just better learn to accept the fact that when he finally figured it out, the sharpshooter wasn't going to be there for the ride. Damn it all to hell, anyway.
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An hour later, Chris was driving down the deserted road leading away from his ranch. He had an overnight bag on the seat beside him and a travel mug full of coffee. Now all he needed was a destination.
The stray dog seemed to come out of nowhere. Chris instinctively swerved to avoid it, but the road was narrow and he'd been going too fast. The truck rolled over and slid for what seemed like forever. He could feel the impact of flesh and bone against metal. It hurt. And everything was starting to fade in and out. He knew he'd hit his head, but he couldn't remember how. He fumbled for his cell phone. He needed help, he knew that much. Punching a button on his phone, he waited.
"Vin." he croaked. "I need your help." That was his last conscious thought as the phone slipped from his grasp and the rest of him slipped into oblivion.
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"Dammit, Chris!" Vin put the pillow over his head when he heard the phone ring and recognized Chris's voice. What the hell was Chris doin' calling him? Hadn't they said enough? Done enough? The best thing for both of them was to stay the hell away from each other. It was time Chris realized that.
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