Chris stared absently out the window, fingers entwined with Vin’s as the sharpshooter slept. He hadn’t heard from Travis since he left his office yesterday and other than determining Hall probably didn’t have anything to do with Murphy’s murder, the boys hadn’t turned up anything. The murder and Vin’s abduction remained a mystery. To them, anyway. The police were still trying to make a case against Chris.Chris felt a slight pressure on his fingers and looked over. Vin was watching him, a small smile on his lips. Chris smiled back wanly.
Vin’s smile faltered. "Sure you want me to go home with you when they release me tomorrow?"
Chris snorted. "You were mad at me, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember," Vin said, closing his eyes. The swelling had gone down enough for him to open his right eye but his vision was blurred. It made his head hurt, a fact he tried to downplay because he was so anxious to go home. "Ain’t mad now."
"Well that’s a relief," Chris said a little more sharply than he’d intended. He stood and moved to the window.
Vin felt the absence of physical contact acutely. "Tell me what’s going on, Chris." He opened his eyes, managing only half-mast, and sought Chris’. "I want to know everything."
Chris sat on the bed, reaching once more for Vin’s hand. "The police told you Danny Murphy is dead?"
Vin nodded, pursing his lips at the mention of the name but taking solace in Chris’ touch. He’d developed a whole new fear of losing Chris in the last day or two, one that had nothing to do with psychics and predictions of danger.
"Did they tell you they arrested me for it? Accused me of killing you, too?"
"No, Ezra did," Vin said. "Wanted you to come but you wouldn’t. He finally told me you couldn’t."
Chris glanced out the window. "And the letters?" When he looked back, Vin’s expression was curious. "Police found love letters at the ranch. Letters that supposedly prove you were seeing Murphy behind my back."
Vin laughed out loud. He knew Ezra had been hiding something from him. Then he stopped. Was that why Chris was so distant? "You don’t believe that, do you?" he asked warily.
"No, of course not." Chris leaned over and brushed his lips against Vin’s. "But somebody put them there to incriminate me. Somebody who took your keys after he beat you and left you for dead."
"That all they have on you, some letters?"
"Nope. Murphy was shot with your gun and his neighbor claims I was there Thursday night arguing with him." Chris pulled his hand away and went back to the window. "It’s so fucked up, Vin," he said quietly.
"Is that it?" Vin was just getting around to wondering why Chris was spending the whole day with him in the hospital when Vin was mostly sleeping. Chris should be at
work.
Chris didn’t face him. "I’ve been suspended. Discipline Committee is looking into the murder." He paused then added, "Into us."
Vin closed his eyes, pushing down the thundering in his head and trying to think of something to say to Chris. When he opened them, the room was dark and he was alone. "Shit," he mumbled.
The dark made it easier for Vin to think since he didn’t have to strain. There were so many things left unsaid between him and his lover. He knew Chris believed he wasn’t cheating but they had assiduously avoided talking about Danny in detail. Who he was. What, if anything, he’d ever meant to Vin. Why if the police looked closely enough they might find an old but possibly viable motive for Vin to commit murder.
+ + + + + + +
Chris felt a lot better the next day, even though he suspected it was too soon for Vin to be released. Josiah had remarked about the sad state of American healthcare when hospitals were pushing sick people out of beds. Vin had glowered at the both of them, ordering Chris to turn over his clean clothes or he’d walk out the door in his hospital gown, his ass out there for the world to see and enjoy.
"Ain’t no one gonna enjoy that ass but me ever again," Chris had snarled, meaning it as a joke but Vin had flinched as if struck. Danny resurfacing all these years later, even dead, made him edgy and discomfited. Chris’ remoteness wasn’t helping.
Chris looked over at Vin, asleep in the truck as they drove toward the ranch. He realized he knew absolutely nothing about his lover’s romantic past. Vin of course knew about Sarah and knew stories that Buck had shared, Chris elucidating when asked. But he’d never asked Vin about his other lovers. Not once. And Vin had never said. Would they be in any less of a pickle right now if he had? Chris gripped the wheel, mentally scolding himself. This was not Vin’s fault. And it wasn’t Vin’s fault that Chris loved him so much he couldn’t sleep or eat for fear of losing him.
Vin was disoriented when Chris woke him up in front of the house. He needed Chris’ help to go inside but resisted when Chris tried to ease him into bed.
"Sit, Vin," Chris said and went in the bathroom. He knew Vin wanted to shower as soon as he got home, wash off the hospital smells before falling into his own bed. Chris didn’t think he could hold Vin up for an entire shower though, electing to fill the tub instead. He passed Vin in the bedroom en route the kitchen to get something to wrap Vin’s cast in, just in case. Vin was awake. Okay, so he really wanted to clean up.
Chris went back to the bathroom and tested the water. He turned and smiled. Vin had followed him into the softly lit room and was struggling to pull his sling over his head.
"Here, let me get it," Chris said. He removed the sling then Vin’s clothes. Chris wrapped the plastic garbage bag around Vin’s cast just before he helped him into the warm water. He gently pushed Vin back against the end of the tub but Vin shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain it caused.
"Damn, Vin, go easy," Chris said concerned but sounding annoyed.
"I will. Soon as you strip and get your skinny ass in here with me," Vin said, one clenched fist pressed to his forehead.
Chris looked down at his lover. "Quick bath then bed, Vin. You need your rest."
"Well, get in here then so I can rest against ya." Vin slowly turned his head up. "Been too long since I felt ya, cowboy," he added softly.
Chris sighed but stripped down. He settled into the tub and wrapped his arms around Vin’s waist when Vin leaned back. He was sure Vin would be asleep in about two seconds. But Vin placed a wet hand on Chris’ bent knee and started talking.
"Met Danny in the army," he said. "Nothing happened until I ran into him here in Denver. Didn’t think much of it at the time, bumping into him. Always said he was a wanderer. Later I realized there was more to it."
Chris pressed his lips to the back of Vin’s head. Felt a small bump there. "You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to," he said quietly.
"I want to. You should know something about the man you’re accused of murdering." Vin took a deep breath. "It was fun at first. I didn’t have much experience with other guys and Danny," Vin laughed a little anxiously, "Danny was insatiable. We did it all the time." He moved his hand to cover Chris’ on his belly. "I was having a good time but Danny wanted more." Vin hesitated. "He wanted this." He turned his head and Chris kissed his cheek.
"What happened?" Chris asked.
"I thought he was getting too possessive, too weird. I broke it off and he went crazy. Called me in the middle of the night crying, waited for me outside my work. Told everyone coming out the building what a bastard I was. I was new with the Marshals then. You can imagine how well it went over." Vin shook his head. "Finally, he broke into my apartment and took stuff."
"Like your dog tags?"
"Yeah, and a sliver cross on a chain that belonged to my mother. That cross meant a lot to me. Didn’t have much from her." Vin stopped, enjoying the feel of Chris’ fingers as they combed through the hair on his chest and letting go of the anger he thought he’d let go of a long time ago. "He took other personal stuff. And my dirty underwear."
"Jesus, Vin," Chris said sympathetically.
"I know. But at least he left me alone after that." Vin sat upright and twisted. "I swear I haven’t seen him since, Chris."
Chris felt the chill immediately and pulled Vin back to him. "I know, Vin. I never thought it, not even for a second."
Vin rested his cast on Chris’ arm, too tired to keep it on the side of the tub anymore. "I just feel bad that someone used him to get at us. Killed him. I feel so…"
"Responsible?" Chris supplied. Vin nodded. "You’re not. We’re not. Some sick fuck is behind this, Vin. He’s responsible. Him and only him."
Vin seemed to relax at that. Chris reached for the washcloth and soap, releasing Vin to lather up the terry cloth. He ran it gently along Vin’s skin, Vin’s head falling back against his shoulder as Chris massaged his scalp.
When Chris felt the sharpshooter’s weight against his chest grow heavier he listened for the rhythmic pattern of his breathing that would signal his lover had fallen asleep.
Then Chris heard something else. He hugged Vin close, inanely wishing he’d brought his gun into the bathroom. A soft knock and he glanced over his shoulder.
"Buck!"
"Sorry, pard, but the front door was open." Buck moved to the bathtub. "We gotta talk." He took a mostly asleep Vin Tanner in arms.
"Buck?" Vin mumbled lazily.
"It’s me, Junior. Go back to sleep," he said with a chuckle.
Chris dressed while Buck and Ezra put Vin to bed. "He’s supposed to take his pain meds, Buck," Chris told his friend across the room.
Buck pulled the covers up and smiled at Chris. "You want me to wake him so he can take medicine to help him sleep?"
Chris rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He started out of the room. "You better have a damn good reason for being here," he grumbled.
Buck and Ezra smiled at each other over Vin’s sleeping form. They were so close to nailing the bad guy they could taste it. Proving it was something else.
JD greeted Chris when Larabee came into the kitchen, the other agents on his heels. "We’ve got something, Chris," the young tech said excitedly.
"Travis know you’re all here?" Chris asked.
"Yes," Buck said. "Travis is on our side. Knows you didn’t kill anyone, wants you back. ASAP."
Chris sat, relieved at Buck’s words though deep down he’d known it all along. "So what’s the word?"
Ezra made a production of sitting down, clearly trying to build suspense. He only succeeded in building Chris’ anger. As usual.
"Ezra…" Chris began.
"Oh, Mr. Larabee, it’s too good. First of all, the stellar police eyewitness is a drug addict who, while he does not have a bank account, recently treated all his little drug addict friends to some premium stuff." Ezra raised an eyebrow.
Chris took his meaning. "You’re saying somebody paid him to lie?"
"Not just someone," Buck chimed in. "Wallace Macmillan."
Chris’ jaw dropped. The ATF had assisted on an arrest of Macmillan for guns and drugs but Macmillan had gotten off scot-free. He was high a roller, friends in all the right places. Then Chris thought about it. Macmillan had been creating a militia when they busted him. Selling drugs and buying guns. Were kidnapping and murder really beyond the pale for a man like that?
Ezra held up a hand. "We haven’t proven that conclusively but we do know one thing. Macmillan hired a private detective to dig up dirt on you." Ezra leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "My source tells me he learned about Mr. Tanner and paid for a full investigation into Vin’s past."
"We’re thinking he arranged the murder and was counting on the police jumping all over you as a suspect," Buck said, "because of Ben Hall." He slapped Chris’ shoulder. "We should have seen it from the first. Guy would want revenge for his arrest and for his brother."
Chris nodded slowly. Percy Macmillan had killed himself after shooting up a Catholic mass. Percy was a lecher, maybe even an outright child molester. Still, Macmillan had been able to salvage both his and his’ brother’s reputations. Would he want revenge that badly?
"So what’s next?" Chris wanted to know.
Ezra shrugged lightly. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" Chris exclaimed.
"That’s where the felicitous aspect of your suspension comes in," the undercover agent said. "The ATF’s internal investigation is very thorough, at AD Travis’ insistence." Ezra smiled confidently. "We told Travis what we knew, Travis told the investigators. It’s really only a matter of time."
Chris wasn’t so sure. "Macmillan is slippery. We know that."
Buck agreed but said, "We’ll get him this time, Chris. I can feel it."
Still not convinced Chris decided it was better than nothing. He invited the boys to stay, suggesting they throw together whatever they could find for dinner. They declined, Buck pushing Chris toward the bedroom.
"Go hold Junior, Chris. He needs you close." He left, stopping only to add, "And you need to be close to him."
But Chris didn’t go lie down. He sat on the couch, flipping channels until late into the night. All he’d wanted was Vin with him, safe, in his arms. But he couldn’t go to his lover. He’d survived losing half his soul once before. How, he wasn’t exactly sure. Chris only knew he couldn’t survive it again. Buck would be with him, the others as well. It wouldn’t help. He knew it like he knew the sun would rise tomorrow. Or was it today already?
Vin heard the low drone of the TV and stumbled into the den. He’d woken alone in their bed, afraid at first that he was still at the hospital. His head throbbed painfully but he wanted Chris badly enough to suffer it.
He flopped onto the couch, falling to his side with his head in Chris’ lap. Chris gently stroked his hair back from his face.
"Shouldn’t you be in bed?" the older man inquired.
"Could ask you the same thing," Vin said around a yawn. "Did Buck touch me when I was naked, or was it a nightmare?"
Chris chuckled. "Nope, not a nightmare. He was in a hurry to put you to bed. Wanted to tell me the boys think Wallace Macmillan is behind all this."
Vin struggled to place the name. Some things were still as fuzzy as his vision. Then he remembered. "Hmm," he said. "Maybe should have seen it coming, if it is him."
"Maybe," Chris said. He kept raking his fingers through Vin’s hair, hoping to lull the sharpshooter back to sleep. Chris pulled the afghan from off the back of the couch and covered Vin with it. Vin held Chris’ knee lightly as dropped off to sleep.
+ + + + + + +
Chris spent all of Thursday cleaning the house. He couldn’t believe it had only been a week since all this happened. He felt like he’d aged ten years. He also felt like he’d go crazy if he didn’t have something to do.
When Vin was up, he watched Chris scrubbing surfaces and floors and felt a little sad. He thought about a foster home he once lived in, a good home. But punishment in that house always involved cleaning. Even things that didn’t need cleaning had to be cleaned when you were in trouble. It wasn’t that Vin minded a spotless kitchen and floors you could eat off of. He just hated seeing Chris punishing himself for things that weren’t his fault.
Mostly, though, he had trouble staying up. He’d tried numerous different ways to coax Chris into lying down with him but his lover always declined. Chris needed rest and he needed Chris but Larabee was adamant.
"Got chores, Vin," he’d said. "I’ll come in when I’m done."
Chris did come in, to give Vin his pills or to get him to eat something. But he never lingered.
That was the pattern for a couple of days. By Saturday, Vin was feeling stronger, his vision was a little better and he was determined to get through to Chris. He heard Chris come in from the barn and went into the kitchen.
Chris looked up when Vin entered. "Hey. Just making you a sandwich."
Vin nodded. "You eating, too?"
"I’m snacking as I go," Chris said, cutting the sandwich in half.
Vin took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I’m sorry, Chris."
"For what?" Chris asked as he placed the sandwich on the table.
"For dragging you into this," Vin said.
Chris shook his head. "Not your fault, Vin." He turned away from Vin, almost dismissively.
Vin cradled his cast, unaware of where’d he put his sling. "But it’s like your promotion, isn’t it? Wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t with me."
Chris started putting the cold cuts back in the fridge. He said calmly, "Don’t start that again, Vin. Self-pity doesn’t suit you."
Vin tensed. "It’s not self-pity. It’s the only thing I can think of to explain why you ain’t touched me since I’ve been home."
Chris spun around. "You’re recovering from a traumatic brain injury, Vin."
"It’s a concussion, Chris. And I’m not asking why you ain’t fucked my sore brains out. Though I wish you would." He moved closer to his lover as Chris scowled. "Just want to know why you won’t even hold me."
"Got a lot on my mind. Macmillan or somebody tried to kill you. Did kill your friend-"
"Ex-friend."
"And broke into our house to plant evidence. In case you’ve forgotten." Chris avoided Vin’s outstretched hand.
Vin reached for him anyway, grabbing his wrist. "No, I haven’t forgotten. Every time I open my eyes and see two of everything I remember. Every time I close them and you’re a million miles away I remember."
Vin’s words were cut short by the telephone ringing. Neither he nor Chris moved.
Vin scanned Chris’ face, letting go of his hold on Chris. "Answer it," he said. "Could be important."
"The machine will pick up," Chris said guiltily. He knew he was giving Vin a hard time. He honestly didn’t want to. He just couldn’t help himself.
Vin went around Chris to the phone and answered it.
"Yes, sure, he’s right here," Vin said, handing the phone to Chris. "See? Even Travis thinks we should be making love."
Chris snatched the phone away, covering the mouthpiece with his hand and shooting daggers at his departing lover.
Vin went into the den to lay down on the couch. Chris was so damn stubborn sometimes. Vin groaned in frustration. He hated that Chris was pushing him away yet he had no idea what to do about it, though he was starting to understand why. He knew that look he’d seen beneath the anger in Chris’ eyes. Chris was afraid. Vin turned on the TV, looking for cartoons or something equally silly. He settled on the Rockies game, putting a couple of pillows behind him to ease the pressure on his sore ribs.
Chris came in a few minutes later, putting Vin’s sandwich and a glass of juice on the table. Then he sat at his desk and booted up his laptop. Vin hit the mute button, rolling his eyes. Chris was suspended, hadn’t heard from Travis in days, yet here was about to do work for the man. Should tell him where to go, Vin thought. At least until he reinstated Chris. Vin ate his lunch in silence.
Chris worked for about an hour, emailing what he’d done to his boss. Then he turned and contemplated his lover on the couch. Vin’s eyes met his. There was no anger there, though Chris expected it. And deserved it. He got up and went over to Vin, lying down on his stomach between Vin’s legs, pressing gingerly against his lover’s chest.
Vin grunted and Chris braced himself to move off but the sharpshooter held him in place,
rubbing his good hand across Chris’ shoulders. He worked his way down Chris’ strong back, hitching up his T-shirt to touch bare skin. He hadn’t been any quicker to see what was troubling Chris than any of them had been to finger Macmillan as a likely suspect in Danny’s murder.
"Ain’t gonna be so easy, you know. To stop loving me," Vin said. "Me being so loveable and all." He hoped Chris heard the smile in his voice.
Chris snorted. "Don’t want to stop loving you. Just don’t want to lose you.""Wish I could tell you that you never would. But you might," Vin said gently.
"I know."
Vin trailed his fingers along Chris’ spine, smiling when Chris shivered. "You know it will never be by my choice, right?"
Chris nodded against Vin’s chest. "And you know I’d rather clean toilets for a living then give you up?"
Vin laughed. "Is that what all the cleaning’s been about? You practicing for a new career?"
"Hmm," Chris replied sleepily.
Vin brought his hand up to Chris’ head, carding his fingers through the soft blonde hair as Chris dropped off into a quiet sleep.
He dozed, too, until the sound of car doors slamming awakened him. He gave half a thought to waking Chris, knowing the older man wouldn’t be thrilled to come around to an audience, especially when he was sprawled on top of Vin. He decided not to. So he leaned back against the arm of the couch as much as he could, trying to get their company’s attention. JD came into view first and Vin pressed a finger to his lips.
JD saw Vin and peeked into the den. He pressed a finger to his own lips, "Oh, okay," he whispered.
Buck, however, did not take the hint. Seeing Chris asleep atop Vin in the middle of the day he boomed, "Aw, Vin, not on the couch! I sit on that couch." He laughed at his own joke as Ezra came in and sat in the recliner perpendicular to the couch. Vin wasn’t smiling.
"I believe Mr. Wilmington is afraid you wore Mr. Larabee out by indulging in carnal pleasures on the sofa," he explained carefully.
"I get the joke," Vin said. "Just wish I had my gun so I could shoot him before he wakes Chris up."
Buck laughed again, sitting on the coffee table and taking a turn rubbing Chris’ shoulder. "Astrid sends her best," he said.
"You still seeing her?" Vin asked.
"Oh, yeah." Buck leaned close, taking his voice down several decibels. "She’d like to watch you and Chris get it on. Think we can talk ole’ Chris into it?"
Vin grunted. He’d liked to see him and Chris get it on, too. He looked at Buck’s big hand on Chris’ shoulder and briefly entertained the idea of asking him to sleep with Chris again. Vin would look the other way if he could be sure it would make his lover feel better.
Buck seemed to read his mind. "You’re all he needs, Vin. Just give him a little time," he said softly.
"Taking lessons from your girlfriend, Bucklin?" Vin asked testily. He felt Chris stir and glared at Buck.
Chris turned his head, resting his chin on Vin’s chest. "Need to start locking the door," he said sleepily.
"That we do, cowboy," Vin agreed, smiling and pushing Chris’ hair out of his eyes. His lover needed a haircut. When he goes back to work, Vin though optimistically.
Buck shook Chris a bit. "We’ve got good news."
"And food," JD said. "From Amelia’s."
Chris and Vin ‘ooh’d’ in unison. Amelia’s was one of their favorite restaurants.
Chris found he had an appetite for the first time in about a week. When they settled around the table, Buck updated them on the status of the Bureau’s independent investigation.
"Macmillan’s lawyer says she’ll surrender her client Monday morning. Our guys found proof that Macmillan paid Murphy a lot of money, probably to write those letters." Buck heaped some food onto his plate.
JD picked up the story. "Macmillan didn’t actually do anything. He paid the private eye to set everything up. Travis said between that guy and the drug addict he didn’t know who sang faster."
"Just proves how low-rent Macmillan is," Ezra said, "despite the grandeur of his lifestyle. Anyone with any class or even a hint of a criminal mind would have had his own people." He took a sip of the Chianti he’d brought. "His own very loyal people."
+ + + + + + +
Chris locked up after the guys left, turning out all the lights before going to bed. He kept turning it over in his head. It was too easy. They were missing something. Wallace Macmillan had risked too much to stop without getting what he wanted.
He was still lost in thought when he slipped under the comforter. Vin rolled over and Chris took him in his arms, putting a pillow on his stomach and propping Vin’s cast on it.
"Still thinking about it, aren’t you?" the sharpshooter asked.
"A little," Chris answered.
Vin leaned up and kissed Chris softly. "Stop," he said firmly, reaching under Chris’ shirt to pull on his chest hair.
"Ouch! Okay, okay," Chris laughed.
Vin was leaning up, gazing at him in the darkness. Chris could see the hunger in his eyes and shook his head, denying them both not because of his fear but because of Vin’s health.
"Soon, Vin. You’re still supposed to be taking it easy," he said.
Vin nodded, laying against Chris’ chest. "I know. Just don’t get up two seconds after I fall asleep."
"I won’t," Chris said. It really wasn’t an issue since he fell asleep nearly as quickly as Vin did.
Something woke Chris a couple of hours later. He heard a noise, someone trying to force the door, coming from the back of the house. He bolted upright, unintentionally tossing Vin off.
Vin’s keys. Someone was trying to open the back door with Vin’s keys. Chris had been forced to change the lock on the front door after the police had broken it to search the premises. But knowing Vin’s keys were missing he’d changed the back lock, too.
"What?" Vin rasped.
"Shh," Chris said. "Someone’s trying to get in."
"Dresser," Vin whispered. His SIG was in there. He scooted over to the small night table on his side of the bed, grabbing the ammo from the drawer. He heard the sound of breaking glass, his eyes meeting Chris’ in the darkness.
"Call the police," Chris said.
There wasn’t much else Vin could do with a cast on his shooting hand. He watched Chris creep out of the room and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart. When he heard a loud crash in the kitchen he ran toward the sound thinking he could at least use his cast on the intruder’s head.
Vin flipped on the light just as the gun went off. The table and chairs were overturned, Chris, nose bloodied, on his back on the floor. Wallace Macmillan was slumped against the fridge, a gun in his hand and bullet wound in his chest.
"Back off, Vin," Chris shouted. He got up and approached Macmillan slowly, kicking his weapon away with a bare foot. He reached down to feel for a pulse.
"Is he dead?" Vin asked.
Chris shook his head, snatching the dishtowel off the counter and pressing it to the leaking wound just below his heart.
+ + + + + + +
"Alright, Chris, you can sit up. Slowly," the doctor instructed Larabee. Chris gripped Vin’s hand, feeling dizzy even though he’d followed the doctor’s advice and gone easy.
"The dizziness should go away overnight," the doctor said. "If the break doesn’t affect your breathing, you’ll only need to consider surgery for cosmetic reasons."
Vin thanked the doctor and helped Chris into the clean button down shirt Josiah had brought him. He helped Chris off the table and kept his hand at the small of his lover’s back as they left the examining room.
Chris glanced down the hallway and turned to Vin. "Go ahead, I’ll catch up."
Vin hesitated but then turned toward the waiting room.
Chris walked toward the woman sitting in the plastic chair. He stood a bit away from her and waited until she looked up before going any closer.
"My husband did that to you?" she asked, indicating Chris’ broken nose.
He nodded.
"Then you shot him?" She didn’t sound angry or sad even. Very matter of fact.
Chris nodded again. When Mrs. Macmillan didn’t speak for a few minutes, he turned to go. He’d find out Macmillan’s chances from a doctor.
"He told me he was going to therapy," Mrs. Macmillan said softly. When Chris turned back, she continued. "Wallace was obsessed with you. Blamed you for Percy’ death." She smiled, an odd smile that made her look frightened. "I didn’t know about Percy’s…problem. Honestly."
Chris picked up the original thread. "He wasn’t going to therapy?"
"No. Apparently he was meeting with private detectives and other shady characters. He only just told me the truth today. Said he’s going to jail for a long time." She started to cry. "I think he wanted you to kill him," she said between her tears.
Chris could offer her no consolation but he heard himself saying, "I’m sorry." He sensed Vin’s presence behind him and let his lover take his hand and lead him away.
On the way back to the ranch, with the sun coming up over the horizon and Vin still holding Chris’ hand, Larabee’s cell phone rang. Wallace Macmillan was dead.
+ + + + + + +
Chris sat outside Travis’ office waiting to learn the outcome of the Discipline Committee’s hearing. He’d met with them yesterday and acknowledged his relationship with Vin. Vin had met with them as well, even though he was still on sick leave. Chris didn’t know if the Committee’s rush to get the hearing over with was a good thing or a bad thing. He cell rang and he smiled sheepishly at Travis’ secretary. It was Buck.
"Astrid says you’re in the clear, Chris," Buck said cheerfully.
Chris’ response was dry. "Thanks, that makes me feel a whole lot better"
"She says you’ve got a guardian angel, pard."
Chris smiled at Buck’s seriousness. But hearing a beep he cut Buck off.
Travis’ secretary picked up the phone when it beeped. "Agent Larabee? You can go in now."
Chris put his phone away and got up, opening the door to Travis’ office. He was surprised to see Roy Montgomery sitting across from the AD. He shook both their hands then took a seat next to Montgomery.
Montgomery smiled. "You look like hell, Chris."
"Thank you, sir. I feel like hell" Chris said. "Thought you went back to DC."
"I did. Now I’m back here." Montgomery looked at Travis momentarily then returned his attention to Chris. "My offer still stands. Come to Washington, be my AD for Field Operations."
Chris raised his eyebrows and glanced at his boss.
"You’d have to leave Vin with us," Travis said.
Montgomery cut in. "At first. Until everything quiets down."
Chris didn’t say anything. The story had been all over the Denver news, Macmillan’s penchant for running to the press backfiring this time. But Chris had to wonder if it had made the national news. Or if Montgomery had another reason for telling him to leave his lover behind.
Montgomery was still speaking. "Then, if Agent Tanner wanted to move to DC, who could stop him? We might even be able to find a spot for him. Not under your authority, naturally." He smiled congenially.
"Of course," Travis said, "you could always stay here with us. Pay stinks, the hours are atrocious… Did I mention the Committee has left it up to me to decide your fate?"
Chris was shocked. "They have?"
"They have," Travis said impassively. "Said I’m the one who works directly with you. If I didn’t foresee any problems," he shrugged, "then they didn’t, either. Your performance record, not to mention Vin’s, didn’t hurt."
Chris figured there was more to it. Most likely the ATF wanted the whole sorted episode over and done. He stood up and shook Montgomery’s hand again. "Looks like I’m staying put."
Montgomery stood, too. "Maybe another time." He said goodbye to Travis, thanking him sincerely for his hospitality, and left.
Chris looked at his boss, who was finally smiling. "No shit?" he said, thinking abstractly of Astrid and angels.
"No shit," Travis said, slapping Chris’ back. "Now if you’re done laying around, I’ve got work for you to do."
Chris nodded, asking to be excused for a minute first. He wanted to call Vin, knowing as he did that Vin would be annoyed at Chris for checking up on him. But after what his lover and Ezra had cooked up Chris felt he had a right.
Ezra had paid a visit to the ranch, alone. He wanted to speak to Vin, alone. In the course of trying to unravel the plot against Chris and Vin, Ezra had met Danny Murphy’s lover, a police officer deep in the closet named Peter Dillon. Dillon wanted to meet Vin. Vin agreed. Chris said nothing but Vin knew it rankled him.
When Vin answered, Chris thought he sounded tired. "How did it go?" Chris asked.
"You first," Vin said.
Chris filled him in on his reinstatement, laughing when Vin demanded to know if he finally believed that Astrid was for real. When there was a silence, Chris asked again how it went.
"He’s a nice guy, Chris. He loved Danny," Vin said evasively.
Chris waited, hearing Vin sigh into the phone.
"Dillon used his police credentials to get into the federal building. He drained my gas tank. I’m not turning him in, Chris," Vin said emphatically then stopped. "Can I tell you later?"
"Give me the highlights, Vin." Chris said.
"Basically, if Danny helped Walker, the private eye, Walker would make sure Danny got to see me. Dillon went along with it because he thought it would finally get me out of their lives." Vin paused. When he spoke his voice was sad, tinged with some disbelief. "After all this time, Danny still carried a torch for me. And Dillon is a nice guy. I don’t get it, Chris. Need some time with it."
"Okay, Vin. I’ll pick you up later at Josiah’s," Chris said and rang off. He felt sad, too. Maybe he was experiencing belated grief for Murphy, instead of for his own predicament. Murphy had carried a torch for Vin and all these years later it had gotten him killed. It shouldn’t have happened. Chris shook his head and walked down the hall to Travis’ office.
Epilogue
Vin sat on Josiah’s back porch and sipped at the cold iced tea in his glass. He’d been back at work for two weeks but still couldn’t go a whole day without getting a nasty headache. Although it was better. Initially, he could barely make it to lunch, generally falling asleep in the vehicle of whoever had been elected to bring him to Josiah’s where he’d nap and wait for Chris.One time he’d slept so long and so deeply he didn’t awake until after midnight, Chris snoring softly beside him, one arm hooked around his waist. He’d woken Chris up, feeling only a tiny bit guilty, and tried to coax his lover into fooling around. But Chris was preemptively mortified at the thought of Josiah hearing them and urged Vin to go back to sleep. Vin suspected there was more to it, however, because they weren’t making love at home, either. He tried not to get irritated when he thought of Chris treating him as if he were delicate or fragile. If his damn headaches hadn’t gotten in the way he would have gotten mightily pissed.
Vin heard the back door and shifted. "Early today, cowboy," he said.
Chris nodded, bending low to greet Vin properly. He licked his lips and chuckled. "How much sugar you put in that drink, Vin?" he asked.
"Enough," Vin said defensively, smiling at his lover. Chris wasn’t looking so racoonish anymore, he noticed.
Chris took in that smile, took in the sight of Vin stretched out on the chaise lounge. The bruises on the sharpshooter’s neck and face had faded so as to be indistinct, except in the corner of his right eye near his nose. The sun was picking up the reddish blonde highlights in his hair and coloring his cheeks. Chris felt a tingle in his groin that for the first time in weeks he didn’t ignore. He bent to kiss Vin again with more feeling.
Vin ran his fingers through Chris’ hair as they kissed. "You starting something, Larabee?" he asked when Chris broke the kiss.
"Reckon I am," Chris said, sultry voice firmly in place.
Vin eyed the noticeable tenting of Chris’ dress pants. "Gonna be a long ride out to the ranch, cowboy," he said devilishly.
"Perfectly good bed upstairs," Chris replied, hands gripping the arms of the chair to steady himself as he ran his tongue along Vin's jaw on his way to Vin’s lips.
Vin turned away. "Wouldn’t want Josiah to hear us," Vin said with mock sincerity.
Chris snatched Vin’s lips, nibbling on them with his front teeth. He spoke in between nips. "Not home. Dinner date."
Vin laughed. "Oh, so that’s how it is?"
Chris didn’t answer, only pulled Vin up by his wrists, bright red cast and all.
"Hey, take it easy, Chris," Vin said more amused than cross.
Chris stopped and cocked his head. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard you utter those words during foreplay, Vin."
Vin shrugged. "First time for everything. Race you upstairs!" Vin turned, knocking into the small table where he’d put his drink. He froze.
Chris was behind him, hands roaming. "Leave it," he breathed in Vin’s ear, gently shoving his lover forward.
They made it up to the guestroom, laughing and grabbing at each other’s clothes. Vin was only slightly disadvantaged by his cast. When they were naked, Chris bearing down on Vin, the sharpshooter cursed.
"What?" Chris asked, alarmed. "Did I hurt you?"
"Nope, but we ain’t got any lube. And it’s been too long to wing it," he said distractedly, thinking about an alternative.
Chris shrugged. "There’s always cooking oil."
Vin screwed up his features. "See if Josiah has any moisturizer."
Chris slid off Vin. "If I run into ‘Ziah in the hallway…"
Vin laughed. "Thought he had a dinner date." But Chris was gone. Vin spread his arms and legs out and watched as his erection faltered a little.
Then Chris was there, tossing a bottle on the bed and lowering his mouth to Vin’s wilting hard-on.
Vin sighed, running his free fingers through Chris’ hair. He bent his knees, arching his back as Chris’ licking and sucking became more insistent. The pressure eased and Vin growled his disappointment, hearing his lover chuckle. Then Chris’ mouth was back in full force, a greasy finger teasing at Vin’s hole. When that finger sunk in Vin groaned viscerally.
"God, I love you, Chris," he said elatedly. He felt a little nip at his inner thigh and groaned again. Chris worked another finger in and scissored, Vin gripping his hair and writhing on the bed. The older man timed the insertion of his third finger with the relaxing of his throat, taking Vin’s cock as deep as he could and humming softly, one long finger hitting Vin’s gland. Vin arched completely off the bed, crying out as he came deep in Chris’ throat.
Chris eased off Vin’s cock slowly, licking it hungrily and gently kneading Vin’s balls as the sharpshooter released the last of his seed. Then Chris kissed his way up Vin’s belly and across his chest, biting the younger man’s nipples, making Vin moan hoarsely.
Chris pushed Vin’s knees back against his chest and kissed Vin on the mouth. Vin swirled his tongue around Chris’, then swept it over every inch of the hot cavern, tasting himself on his lover. He used his good hand to grab onto Chris’ ass as the blonde penetrated him.
"Oh man, Chris, that feels good," he cried.
Chris stopped, only the head of his cock inside Vin. "Feels amazing, Vin, " he gasped. "You ready?"
Vin nodded, pulling his head off the mattress to meet Chris’ lips once more, groaning against them as Chris pushed in. Chris started pumping immediately, sure he wouldn’t last long after so much time without his lover’s incredible heat.
Vin rode with it out with Chris, encouraging him with words, jamming his fingers into Chris’ mouth for Chris to suck on as he thrust. Vin was glad for the late afternoon sun filtering through the window, letting him see Chris’ face, flushed with passion and a whole lot more.
"Damn, I missed this, cowboy," he panted.
Chris arched his back, tearing his mouth away from Vin’s fingers as he came with abandon, sobbing out Vin’s name. He flexed his hips repeatedly until he was spent, holding himself up on his hands so Vin could lower his legs. Chris felt his cock slip from Vin and collapsed on top of him, wanting the heat radiating from the sharpshooter to envelop him fully.
"Me, too," Chris murmured, kissing Vin’s neck.
Vin ran his fingers through Chris’ sweaty hair. "Love me?" he asked.
"You know I do, Vin," Chris said. He leaned up on his elbows and gazed into his lover’s eyes. "I love you."
Vin smiled a cocky half smile. "I do know. Just like hearing you say it."
Finis
Comments to: giselleadair@lycos.com