Paradise Lost

by Tiffiny

"Where are you going, pard? Not running out on us, are you?" Buck Wilmington's tone was just a tad too jovial as he watched Chris excuse himself from the table, for the third time that evening.

"I'd be a fool to run out on such charming dinner companions, wouldn't I?" Chris winced slightly as he turned away, knowing he sounded like an arrogant boor. Especially since his dinner companions were charming. Buck hadn't exaggerated. Chris's date was staggeringly beautiful, as well as intelligent, and her sister, Buck's date, was even more so if that was possible. But they weren't Vin.

Chris made his way to the men's room of Mama Leone's, an indecently good Italian restaurant that had to be one of the best kept secrets in Denver. Great food. Reasonable prices. Casual atmosphere. Its only drawback was the seedy neighborhood it was located in. Although in Chris's view, that wasn't a bad thing. It kept the crowds down. Chris didn't like crowds. Vin didn't like crowds either. And Vin loved spaghetti. Spaghetti and beer. Both of which were good and plentiful at Mama Leone's.

"Vin would love this place." Chris shoved open the door to the men's room with a little more force than was necessary as he realized he'd spoken those last thoughts aloud. Dammit! When was he going to quit thinking about that damned Texas sharpshooter? What did they say? Nothing good ever came out of Texas? Couldn't prove it wrong by him. Except that Vin was good. Vin just wasn't good for him. Or maybe he wasn't good for Vin. Everything was so fucked up.

And it's all my fault.

Chris made a quick survey of the room before walking in. That habit had saved his life on more than one occasion. Vin had the same habit. The sharpshooter used to laugh and say the two of them together had double vision. Chris frowned and rubbed his temples. He could feel the beginnings of a world class headache coming on. He wished he could stop remembering all those stupid lover type things he and Vin had said or done. Maybe if he had amnesia instead of Vin, he'd be able to enjoy this damn dinner.

Chris swept his eyes around the tiled room one last time. As far as he could tell though, it was empty. Good. Walking over to the row of sinks against the wall on his left, Chris quickly splashed some cold water on his face and dried it with a rough paper towel before lifting his head to stare into the long mirror above the row of sinks. He didn't look as bad as he felt, at least. His date must think he had a bladder the size of a peanut, though, since this was the third time in less than two hours that he'd excused himself. But it was either get away for a few minutes or leave altogether, and Chris didn't want to do that. It wasn't Isabel's fault she wasn't Vin and Buck seemed to be having a wonderful time with Olivia. Why should he spoil all that just to go home and brood? And besides, he didn't want Buck asking too many questions. For all that he generally seemed oblivious to anything not wearing a skirt, Buck wasn't half bad at putting the pieces together when he put his mind to it. And these pieces weren't meant to be together. Not anymore. Chris glowered at his reflection.

"Ok, Larabee. Get a grip. Isabel is a beautiful woman. You should..."

"Should what? Invite her in for a nightcap, screw the daylights out of her, and then shove her out the front door into the cold? A little lacking in the charm department, wouldn't you say?" Vin Tanner's rough drawl filled his ears and Chris turned slowly around, half afraid he'd started hallucinating and was going seriously crazy.

+ + + + + + +

Vin Tanner had thought he was hallucinating when he'd seen the tall, blond figure push open the door to the men's room from his vantage point at the small bar near the back of the restaurant. But he'd know Chris anywhere. Hell, even if Vin were blinder than a bat, he'd know Chris. So either he was plumb crazy or Chris Larabee was right here, right now.

And now Vin was right here with him. Right now. Just in time to hear him say how fucking beautiful this Isabel was. And that he should... should what? Vin could feel the acid burn of jealousy running wild through him. He'd left Mac, a ski instructor with washboard abs and a killer tan, high and dry at the bar for the pleasure of letting Chris Larabee piss all over him, so to speak? Again? What the hell was he? A goddamned masochist? Surely his mama had raised him better than that? But apparently she hadn't, because he took another step inside and closed the door behind him.

"Should what? Invite her in for a nightcap, screw the daylights out of her, and then shove her out the front door into the cold? A little lacking in the charm department, wouldn't you say?" Ok. That sounded a little bitter. Way to put up the cool I don't care facade you had planned, Tanner.

But who was he kidding? He didn't have a cool I don't care facade when it came to Chris Larabee. He had an I want to fuck you, please let me fuck you facade. An I want you to fuck me, please will you fuck me facade. And he had the facade he refused to think about. The one that involved composing poetry and snuggling up in front of warm fires together. The one that involved cuddling for cripes sake. Only a man in lo... Nope. he refused to say it. He refused to even think it. He'd just turn around and go straight back to... to... What the hell was his damn date's name again? The ski instructor? With the washboard abs? Awww Hell. He'd be lucky if his date didn't stick him with a hefty bar bill and take off with that cute guy sitting two stools down. He couldn't even remember what he'd said to the guy before running off in here after Chris like some lunatic.

"Well, we can't all be Prince Charmings." Chris was rather proud of how calm he sounded. How nonchalant. He folded his arms and leaned against the sink. Only Chris Larabee and God would know that his hands were trembling and that's why he'd folded his arms.

"You don't believe in handing out fairy tale endings, is that right?" It was Vin's turn to lean back against the door and fold his arms. And if he felt a little on the shaky side, it was between him and God.

"I did once. A long time ago." Chris's quiet, almost wistful, reply caught Vin off guard. Dammit. Couldn't the man ever follow a script?

"But only to the beautiful princess right?"

"My beautiful princess hardly had a fairy tale ending, Vin."

"No. I don't reckon she did. I'm sorry Chris. I forgot..."

"Don't say it, Vin. I know you forgot. Believe me, I know."

"I didn't get run over by a damn car, bust my head open, break my arm, stay in a coma for three days and get amnesia just to annoy you, Larabee." Vin snapped. He could feel the flush mount in his cheeks as anger, guilt and embarrassment vied for first place within him.

"Didn't you?" Chris murmured.

"Goddammit Chris. What the hell is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Vin shook his head angrily. "You're a damned liar."

"Well, I'm at least one of the two, anyway."

"God damn you. Do you have any idea what it's like to have a piece of you missing? To constantly reach for something that isn't there? To try so hard to remember that you think your brain is going to bust wide open from the strain? Do you think it's fucking easy to be a stranger to myself? A stranger to you? Do you have any idea what I'd give if I could just remember one little thing about you?" Vin stopped abruptly, knowing he'd said too much, made himself too vulnerable.

"Do you know how much I'd give to forget?" The utter bleakness of Chris's tone had Vin moving towards him before the meaning of his words had registered. Lifting a hand, he placed his palm against Chris's cheek, reveling in the smooth feel of skin under his fingers.

"We're a pretty pair, ain't we?" Vin whispered, staring into Chris's stormy green eyes. Unconsciously he leaned closer, breathing in the scent that was unique to Chris.

Chris didn't say anything, but he didn't move away either.

"What ain't you telling me, cowboy?" Vin deliberately invoked the nickname he'd been told Chris tolerated only from him, hoping it would foster some sort of intimacy. Instead, he felt Chris's body tense and he rushed on, before Chris could pull away. "I know we were arguing about something before the accident. Is that the problem? What were we arguing about? Tell me. Please." Vin didn't know if it was the please or divine aid from above or something else entirely, but Chris sighed and slowly nodded his head, taking a step back as he did so.

"We were arguing before the accident because I wanted... because we..." Chris stopped and Vin waited for him to go on, afraid to say anything and spook him back into silence.

But the silence was broken seconds later by the sound of his name and Chris's name being called in unison as the door swung open, revealing Buck Wilmington and MacKenzie Taylor. He'd finally remembered his date's name. Like he really gave a flying fuck about it, or him, anymore.

"Vin? What are you doing here? Is Chris ok? Chris are you ok? What the hell is going on with you?" Buck's expression was half concerned, half exasperated as he looked from Chris to Vin then back again.

"That's what I'd like to know." Mac didn't look concerned. Or exasperated. He just looked mad.

Vin glanced at Chris, but Chris was gazing resolutely in Buck's direction.

"Nothing, Buck. Nothing is going on with me. Let's get back to our table, shall we." Chris steered a rather confused looking Buck quickly out the door. He did not look back.

Who was that?" Mac demanded, crossing over to stand in front of Vin.

"It was no one I know. No one I'll ever know." Vin brushed past MacKenzie Taylor and his washboard abs on his way out the door. He didn't look, either.

FIFTEEN

Vin Tanner flung open the door to his Purgatorio apartment and stepped inside with a muttered oath. Shrugging off his coat, he veered to the left and threw his keys in the direction of the small table, in what passed for his dining room, before heading straight for the dingy white refrigerator in the corner of the small kitchen.

He was out of beer. Shit. Damn. Fuck. How many times was history going to have to repeat itself before he got two things through his thick head?

1) ALWAYS have beer on hand. 2) Stay the fuck away from Chris Larabee.

Vin sighed and shut the fridge, leaning his forehead against the cool metal. He didn't know what the hell to do anymore. He didn't know anything. He didn't even know if Mac had gone home with that cute guy at the restaurant or not. Vin couldn't bring himself to care if he had. He knew he should, but he didn't. Mac might have been a selfish, self-centered bastard, but he was also drop dead gorgeous and very limber. Man oh man was he limber. But did any of that turn him on? Well, ok. It did a little bit. But it wasn't enough to make him forget Chris. Well, ok. He had forgotten Chris. But that was before. When they were just friends. There was no way in hell Vin could ever forget Chris Larabee now, no matter how much he might want to. Nope. Not after that one night. That one incredible fucking night. Shit. Life was just so damn funny sometimes, he plumb forgot to laugh.

Vin stalked over to the couch and threw himself down on it, grimacing at the feel of the springs poking into his backside. He needed a new goddamned couch. He needed a new goddamned life. But what he wanted was one uptight, fucked up, blond haired, green eyed bastard by the name of Chris Larabee. Might as well wish for the moon, though. There was always the off chance he might get that. And thoughts like this weren't doing anything but making his head hurt and he was out of aspirin. And these new boots were killing his feet, dammit.

Reaching down, Vin pulled off his boots, wiggling his toes in blessed relief before picking up the battered remote. First he clicked on ESPN. Then he tried Fox News. The Weather Channel. VH-1. HBO. There was nothing on. Over a hundred channels and THERE WASN'T A DAMN THING ON TV!!! Hurling the remote against the wall made him feel better for a few brief seconds, til he realized that now he'd have to get up to turn the TV off.

He got to his feet, the urge to kick something growing stronger by the minute. He made his way into the bedroom, thinking maybe he would change into some sweats and work out. He could set up his punching bag and pretend it was Chris. Or maybe the cable company.

"Aaaahhhhh Shit!!" Vin was so busy imagining the damage he was going to do to the punching bag, that he neglected to watch where he was going. The metal box laying on the floor had done some damage of its own to his bare toes. What the fuck was that stupid thing doing in the middle of the floor, anyway? And what the hell was in it? Rocks?

Vin scooped up the box and hobbled back out into the living room to get his keys. He might as well find out what was in it. So then he could take a sledgehammer and break the son of a bitch into a thousand little pieces. His toe really fucking hurt.

Vin set the box down on the table and quickly sorted through his keys. The small silver one. That had to be it. He slid the key into the lock and turned it. The box clicked open and he lifted the lid.

Vin stared down at the contents of the box for several minutes, the blood slowly draining from his face. He sorted carefully through the contents and then he sat there for a long time. Remembering. Remembering everything. When the first rays of light began to shine through the curtains, Vin got to his feet. Chris. He had to find Chris.

+ + + + + + +

Chris wasn't certain exactly how he had managed to make it through the rest of the evening, but apparently somehow he had. Because here he was in the restaurant parking lot, kissing Isabel on the cheek and politely thanking her for a lovely evening. A few feet away, Buck was doing the same thing to Olivia, albeit a little less politely and a whole lot more enthusiastically.

Isabel slanted a glance in her sister's direction and then looked up at Chris. "They look like they're having way too much fun." The barest hint of a dimple appeared in her left cheek when she smiled.

Chris nodded his head, forcing a smile to his lips. Dammit. Isabel was beautiful, charming, intelligent. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just relax and enjoy her company instead of thinking about Vin. Wondering where Vin was. What he was doing. Who he was doing it with. Was he doomed to pine after Vin for the rest of his goddamned life? Like hell.

"I can give you a ride home, if you like? Since it looks like Buck and my sister are otherwise occupied."

Chris was tempted to say yes. She wasn't Vin, but then no one was. No one ever would be. But he was just too damned tired to pretend anymore. He just wanted to go home. And if that meant spoiling Buck's fun, then that was just too damn bad.

"No. Thank you. Buck needs to have his fun curtailed from time to time. Keeps him humble."

"Ok. If you're sure." Isabel didn't seem put out by his refusal. She nodded her head in the preoccupied couple's direction. "I'll take right. You take left. At the count of three we pull 'em apart. Sound like a plan?"

"Works for me." Chris's smile bordered on the genuine. He really liked this gal. But he didn't want to go to bed with her every night and wake up with her every morning and argue with her over who got the last piece of pizza and whose turn it was to do dishes. All the things he used to do with Vin. All the things he still wanted to do with Vin.

Between the two of them, they somehow managed to separate Buck and Olivia long enough to bundle them into their respective vehicles so they could go home. By that time, Chris's leg was hurting and his head was hurting and he was trying not to think about Vin and wondering if it would be a mistake to go out with Isabel again, so it took him a while to notice that Buck was being uncharacteristically silent on the way home.

Chris slanted a glance in Buck's direction when he finally noticed the unusually loud silence permeating the truck. His companion was frowning and drumming his fingers lightly against the steering wheel as he drove. A sure sign that something was wrong. Shit. Chris hunkered further down in the passenger's seat. How much farther was it to the ranch? Not far. Please God, not far. A few more miles passed in silence and Chris started to relax. They really weren't far now. The turnoff was just ahead.

"Chris..." Out of the corner of his eye, Chris saw Buck turn his head slightly to cast a glance in his direction. Dammit Dammit Dammit. Whatever it was, Chris didn't want to hear it.

"Something's wrong, ain't it." It wasn't a question.

"My leg is hurting some."

"That ain't it." Buck spoke with a certainty that set Chris's teeth on edge. Sometimes he forgot just how well Buck knew him.

"I'm fine."

"I knew you weren't having the time of your life tonight. But I figured it didn't mean much. That you were just being your usual ornery self. I was too busy enjoying Olivia's company to give it much thought." Buck smiled. No doubt picturing Olivia naked or something.

Chris grunted noncommitally. Almost home. He was almost home.

"But when we were getting in the truck, there was this long haired fella that walked by. He was with some short haired older fella. And you had this look on your face when you saw them. Kind of like the one you used to get after Sarah died, when you'd see someone that reminded you of her. And that got me to thinking about a few things."

Shit. Fuck. Damn. Chris vaguely remembered seeing the men Buck was talking about out in the parking lot, as he was getting in the truck.. For a split second he'd thought maybe the long haired one was Vin. And then he'd realized that it wasn't Vin and would never be Vin. And that had been that. It figured Buck would be oblivious to his hours of suffering all during dinner and then notice his one tiny little lapse out in the parking lot.

"What the hell are you talking about, Buck?" Chris snapped, feeling more vulnerable by the second.

"Is there something funny going on between you and Vin?" Buck demanded bluntly, pulling into Chris's driveway. He killed the engine and then turned to face Chris.

"Funny? You mean like are we fucking each other silly? Yeah. That would be funny all right. It would also be none of your goddamned business."

"You're my friends, as well as my coworkers. I'd say that makes it at least partially my business."

Chris knew Buck was right. Hadn't he felt the same way once upon a time? But that was then and this was now. He unbuckled his seat belt, shaking his head tiredly. "Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answer to, Buck."

"Well, right now I'm thinking things I ain't sure I want to think. Can't see that's any better."

Chris shook his head again and reached for the door handle. "Let's just not do this." He started to open the door, but Buck's hand on his arm stopped him.

"I need to know, Chris."

"Why? So you can decide if you still want to be friends? Still want to work together?" Chris angrily shrugged off Buck's hand and opened the door.

"No. It ain't like that, Chris. It's just..."

"Just what?" Chris slid out of the truck and turned to stare stonily at Buck.

"It's just that it seems kind of strange. And with you being all banged up after the accident and Vin not remembering... Hell Chris, I'm worried about you, ok?"

Chris sighed. "Just go home, Buck."

"I ain't saying it wouldn't take some getting used to or that things might not be a bit strange for a while. But goddammit, Chris. I've put up with your shit for too long to give up on you now just cause you all of a sudden got a liking for long haired skinny sharpshooters."

That was Buck all over again. You could always count on him to be there. Whether you wanted him to be there or not. Chris felt a trickle of warmth dissolve some of that cold hard lump in his belly. He might not want to wake up with Buck every morning, but friendship counted for something. A very precious something. And Chris was suddenly struck by the realization of how very much he'd asked of Vin.

"Thank you, Buck." Chris spoke quietly, his gaze meeting Buck's steadily.

Buck shrugged and flashed Chris a brief smile. They were both quiet for a few moments. Then Buck sighed and shook his head. "I can't speak for the others, you know."

"I know."

"I don't think Ezra would care, though."

"Too busy trying to make his first million in a career that pays peanuts?"

"Something like that."

"JD?"

"I ain't sure the kid would believe it even if he saw it with his own two eyes."

"Josiah?"

"Don't know."

"Nathan could be a problem."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But I think Rain could straighten him out if need be."

Chris sighed and looked away. "Doesn't matter. There isn't going to be a need, Buck."

"Vin don't like blonds?"

"I wish it was that simple."

"You always did over complicate things."

"Maybe."

"Awww hell. You'd better get going in the house, Chris. You look like you're about to fall flat on your face and I got me a late night date with Olivia that I'm missing here."

"Night, Buck."

"Night, Chris."

Chris watched the tail lights of Buck's truck disappear into the darkness. He stood there until a sharp pain in his leg nearly caused him to fall flat on his face, just like Buck had said. He went into the house, feeling both obscurely comforted by Buck's words and agonizingly lonely at the same time.

He sank down into the easy chair in the den, turning only one small table lamp on to see by. He eased off his shoes and rubbed halfheartedly at his leg before leaning back and closing his eyes. He didn't know what the hell to do anymore. Every time he thought he had a plan, had things worked out, something happened to fuck it all up. He was just so damn tired of trying to figure it out. Just so damn tired.

+ + + + + + +

Vin hesitated outside Chris Larabee's front door. All the lights were off in the front of the house. Should he knock? No. Fuck that. He had a key.

Slipping quietly inside, Vin made his way by feel down the hall. When he reached the den he saw Chris. The soft glow of the nearby table lamp was bright enough for Vin to see the shadows of pain and exhaustion written all over Chris's face. One hand was resting on the arm of the chair, the other one was curved across the top of his right thigh. His right leg was drawn up slightly and Vin knew it must've been hurting him. And he'd probably refused to do a thing about it. Stubborn, ornery bastard. That was Chris all right.

Vin stood looking down at his sleeping ex lover and sighed quietly. "I don't know what to do, Chris. I don't know how to fix things. Don't know if things should even be fixed. You were right. It was a whole lot easier when I couldn't remember. But I do remember now. I remember you almost got killed saving my sorry ass and what did I do? I forgot you. Great way to say thanks. And you... You bastard. You lied to me. Made me think we were never more than friends. Shit. Maybe we deserve each other. I don't know anymore, Chris. All I know is I can't kiss you, can't kill you, and there ain't much room for in between with us." He dropped to his knees and rested his head on the arm of the chair next to Chris's hand.

"Who says you can't kiss me?" Vin looked up to see Chris's green eyes gazing down at him.

How long have you been awake?" Vin demanded warily.

Chris just looked at him.

"I know. I know. Long enough."

The two men stared silently at one another.

"So, where's your date?" Chris finally asked.

"Where's yours?"

"Do you really care?"

"No. Not unless you've got her tucked away in a closet somewhere."

"My closet's already a little on the full side, Vin."

"Yeah. I reckon." Vin looked away.

"This isn't going to work, Vin." Chris shook his head tiredly. He didn't want to play this game. He didn't want to have this same conversation. He didn't know what to do. Vin didn't know what to do. Maybe it was better they did nothing at all. Less mess to clean up that way.

"Oh no. Not this time." Vin got to his feet and glared angrily at Chris.

"Not this time, what?"

"That's what you said to me last time we had this conversation. And then we got hit by that fucking car and now our lives suck and I'm not going through all that shit again, Larabee."

"You're not making any sense, you know that?"

"No. But I know what does make sense." And with that Vin leaned down and kissed him. Because really, it was the only thing that did make sense. Him and Chris. Chris and him. Neither one of them had a clue apart, but maybe, just maybe, together they could figure it out. It was worth a shot, anyway.

Chris reached up and pulled Vin down onto his lap. The feel of Vin's lips on his had always made sense. "Ooofff... Dammit, you're heavier than I remember, Tanner. That's it. No more junk food for you."

"Guess you'll just have to find me something else to eat, then."

"I have a few ideas." Chris ran a hand teasingly down Vin's stomach and then he stopped abruptly and took his hand away.

"Chris?"

"We have to talk, Vin. It might be easier not to, but we can't afford to make that same mistake. Not if we want this to work."

"Yeah." Vin was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Nothing's changed, Vin. Except now I understand just how much I was asking of you and I'm sorry. But I can't do it any other way. No matter how much I want to try." Chris didn't volunteer information concerning his personal life. In fact, he actively discouraged people from taking any interest in his activities, whatsoever. But neither did he have it in him to live a lie. Lies always came back to haunt you.

"Yeah. You are asking a lot. But maybe you're worth a lot."

"Are you saying...?"

"I'm saying I might be willing to tell the boys about us, but I ain't ready to notify the local newspaper or anything."

"Buck already knows."

"Buck? Hell, we won't need to take out that add in the paper."

"Buck can keep a secret when he has to."

"Well, if he can't, I hear San Francisco is a nice place to live."

"Too expensive."

"New York?"

"Too crowded."

"Los Angeles?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Are we done talking yet?"

"Not by a long shot."

"That's what I figured." Vin pushed himself gingerly off of Chris's lap and got to his feet. He held a hand out to Chris. "If we have to talk, I want coffee."

Chris stared at Vin's outstretched hand, a frown crossing his face. He looked up at Vin. "What made you remember? You never did say."

"I'll tell you later. Or maybe I'll just show you." Vin thought about what had been in the box and smiled. Oh yes. He would definitely have to show Chris.

Chris nodded slowly and grasped Vin's outstretched hand. Together they left the room.

END

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