Pencil

Vin sat uneasily in the chair next to her and picked up the pencil. It felt awkward and foreign in his hands and was unlike his hunting knife or his Winchester, whose metal and wood he'd grown accustomed to all these years.

"You want to hold it gently Vin," directed Mary to his right.

He looked at her and her hand, the way she held her own pencil, poised above the paper. Before he could stop himself, the words had already left his mouth. "You mean like a woman?" He was surprised at himself and wondered what she would do next.

"Well, yes," Mary replied a little taken aback. "I suppose you would want to hold it like I hold mine," she said, furrowing her brow a little.

Vin smiled then. This was getting dangerous. "That's not what I meant," he said softly still watching her.

"No?" Mary asked arching a golden brow in challenge. Her pale blue eyes glinted with mischief in realization.

She smiled a most disarming smile that had Vin feeling a little dizzy and a little fearful. He thought for sure that she was going to slap him for his comment or get angry with him. But what she did next stunned him.

Mary leaned in closer to Vin, reaching over his right arm, carefully she took his sheet of paper and positioned it closer to her. Leaning in a bit more, so that she was very close, she began in her clean, fine script to write out the letters of the alphabet, as he should follow them.

Vin felt the heat rise in him at her proximity and inhaling slightly, let himself smell her heady floral scent. Chris would kill him he realized. But it wasn't just him; she was obviously playing too. He watched as her hand moved the pencil fluidly across the surface of the smooth white paper.

In a voice barely above a whisper she began by reciting what each letter was as she wrote it. "First A, B, C, then D, E, F, G, H," she paused to wet her lips, "I, J, K, L, M, N and O." She stopped again to briefly look back at him as a light blush colored her cheeks. Mary flipped the paper over in one crisp motion and leaned in close once more, indicating that he continue to watch her as she wrote. "Then," she said taking a slight breath, "P, Q, R, S, T." She moistened her lips once more, "U, V, W, X, Y and finally Z." Mary gently laid down her pencil, took another breath and looked at him.

Vin's eyes had been glued to her face or more specifically her lips. He found himself focusing on the way her lips parted and moved as she spoke the letters. When she turned to him, he couldn't help but study her mouth, its curves and its color. What was happening here?

"Vin?" Mary asked.

He dragged his eyes from her mouth to the paper in front of him. Her writing was no doubt as beautiful as she was, with curls and clean, bold lines. And ever since that day that he asked her help in learning his letters and writing he found himself looking forward to meeting with her for his lessons. He liked Mary, that much, he knew. It was hard not to. And he also knew that the other men did as well. Especially Chris, whose fondness for the widow seemed obvious to everyone but himself. Vin raised his eyes to hers and smiled a small shy smile. He wanted to say that she wrote as pretty as she was, but he didn't dare to. Instead he asked, "ma'am?"

"Do you think you've got it?" she asked watching him curiously.

Vin nodded absently and looked down to his hand as he held the pencil, much in the same way as when they had first started this particular lesson. He altered his grip to match her own and pulled the piece of paper that she had written on, in front of him.

Mary watched as Vin slowly and methodically, followed the lines and curves of her letters with his own pencil. Deliberately slow and calculated he matched her writing stroke for stroke. Mary had to smile at his efforts, remembering his initial plea for help and how he asked her through a poem. She sighed inwardly at the warm memory of his words, "...I have need of you sweet woman, not for the velvet of your touch, but for the weaponry of your mind, there's a hole that needs mending...teach me noble lady, teach me to write and read." So lost in her musings, Mary didn't hear Vin talking to her.

"Mary," he said gently, the soft timbre of his voice causing gooseflesh on her pale skin. "Thank you," Vin said suddenly.

Mary felt lost as she looked into his deep blue eyes and wondered why she was behaving in such a way, being so bold as to lean so close to him and to let herself admittedly act like a school girl when remembering his poem. She simply hadn't heard him speaking because she was so giddy. Why? She wondered. Mary looked at Vin and smiled in return and then she knew. Watching him continue to practice his writing, she studied him. He was handsome yes, strong and wild and no doubt sexual she thought, fighting the sudden warmth in her cheeks. The way he moved, the smoothness to his walk, the strength in his hands and fingers, his gorgeous curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes, Mary smiled ruefully to herself. She wasn't blind. And she wasn't dumb either. Vin was loyal, just and a true friend and there was no doubt in her mind that he would always prove that, no matter what the cost. With all these elements to his personality, to his being, why she was reacting in such a way to him was really simple: she was meeting on a regular basis with an attractive man that was neither her husband nor was he someone who was courting her. It was all so clandestine it worried Mary. And admittedly, excited her.

"Vin?" she asked.

The tracker turned to her as he looked over his writing.

"Have you told anyone about these lessons?" Mary asked a little shyly.

Vin shook his head and cocked his head to the side as he watched her. "Why?"

"I'm just," Mary paused wrinkling her brow. "I don't want the others --" she stopped suddenly, sighing before pursing her lips.

Vin continued to watch her. "Don't you want the others to know that we've been meeting?" he said huskily, putting down his pencil to give her his full attention.

Mary's eyes widened and she straightened on her chair.

He held her eyes for a bit but found that he couldn't help but let her off the hook and give her a wide smile. "I've told Chris," he said chuckling a bit and ducking his head.

Mary blushed. Red.

Vin shook his head at her coloring. How she could get so red was beyond him and though he thought it funny, he felt a little guilty. And then she did something that stunned him for the second time that day.

She hit him.

Hard. With the palm of her hand on his upper left arm.

And he laughed. Doubling over, pulling off his hat, laughed. Out loud.

Mary couldn't help herself, she was so embarrassed, so mortified at her reaction to his statement, she had to hit him. "Ooh, you!" she exclaimed reaching out to hit him some more.

He continued to laugh, holding his midsection with one hand as he fended off her blows with his other. The sound of his light, warm laughter filled her tiny kitchen. Tears formed at the corners of his closing eyes and he realized that he was having trouble breathing. She'd stopped hitting him. So he had to stop laughing. Had to. When he did, gasping for air, he found her looking at him. Though not as angrily as he'd imagined. Instead, she had that same look of mischief she had before and he knew that he was in trouble.

"Vin," she said silkily. "Shall I show you how to write your name?" Mary asked innocently.

For the life of him, he wanted to say 'no.' He NEEDED to say 'no,' but he didn't. He nodded dumbly and watched as if in a dream. Mary picked-up the pencil, placed it in his hand, gently placed her hand over his, leaned in close and directed his hand over a clear portion of the paper to write out 'Vin Tanner.' Her softness pressed into his shoulder and arm and he could feel the heat from her body, smell that unidentifiable floral scent once again and he nearly lost it.

Quickly, almost harshly, he pulled away from her, dropped his pencil and stood so fast the chair toppled loudly onto the wooden floor behind him.

Mary knew she'd gone too far in teasing him. What was she doing? "Vin, I'm -- " she started to say, flushing another deep shade of red as she rose from her seat too.

He shook his head, almost frantically. "No! No," he said backing away a little from her. "It's -- " he stopped. Yes, it was his fault. Yes, he started it. But he wasn't sorry and he never wanted to apologize for what went on that afternoon. It was nothing like what happened with Charlotte. This, he feared, meant more. Regardless of Chris. He took an unsteady breath before speaking. "I guess we got a little carried away," he said softly, averting her gaze and shifting nervously.

Mary raised a trembling hand to her forehead to smooth away a loose lock of hair. "I'd like to apologize Vin," she said. "I can't imagine what you must think of me," she said shakily.

He smiled a little and caught her eyes, holding them for a little before bending down to right the fallen chair. "It's all right Mary," he said moving closer to her. "It's all right."

The sudden knock on her back door caused them both to jump apart. She looked up to him and smiled back. Smoothing out the front of her dress, she nodded slightly before answering her door to find Chris there.

"Everything all right?" Chris asked. "Thought I heard something," he added when he saw Vin shoot him a teasing smirk. Chris noticed Mary looked a little flushed. Reaching out to place a comforting hand on her arm, he asked, "Mary, you all right?"

Mary nodded silently, gently disengaging herself from his grip as she went to retrieve a glass of water. Vin watched her and looked back to Chris. "Guess things just got a little too lively with my lessons," he said with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Mary had heard the comment and nearly choked on the water she had been drinking. Ungracefully, she wiped droplets of water from the sides of her mouth with her hand. The two men began to chuckle, oblivious to her condition and she marveled at their laid back manner. More specifically, she marveled at Vin, at how he had gathered himself so quickly. It was all a game, she knew. A very dangerous game. What had she been thinking? Especially when she was so sure of how she felt about Chris. And now this lesson and her reckless, unladylike behavior.

"I best be going," Vin suddenly said, looking first to Mary then Chris. "My watch, isn't it Chris?" he asked as the black-clad gunslinger answered with a nod.

Mary picked up Vin's hat from the table and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said softly, pulling his floppy brimmed hat on.

"Shall we continue next week?" she asked, for the sake of Chris, who had moved off to look at Vin's writing on the table. After just a couple of weeks of lessons, Mary knew that they were over. They could never continue after today.

Vin looked down at his hands and shook his head, glancing at Chris first before he spoke. "Maybe, it'd be best if I practice on my own a while," he said in his soft Texas drawl. He looked at her then, letting his eyes convey his regret.

Chris looked up to the both of them and smiled. "Looks mighty fine to me," he said. "Mary's doin' a fine job of teachin' ya," he added.

Mary nodded and smiled a little at Chris. Turning to pick-up something from the table she walked Vin to her back door. "Here," she said extending her hand that held a pencil. "You'll need it to practice with," she said.

Vin took the pencil from her, avoiding touching her hand. "Thank you Mary," he said moving towards her door. But before he could let himself leave completely, he turned back to her and looked over her shoulder at Chris who had moved into the front office. He lowered his voice. "You're still a noble lady and sweet woman Mary. You'll always be one to me," he confirmed.

Mary nodded again, giving him a bittersweet smile. "I'm glad I could help you Vin," she said all too aware of Chris' presence.

Vin nodded back, his eyes never leaving hers. "I am too ma'am," he said with a small tight smile. With a tug at his hat, he turned and walked off into the fading late afternoon light, fingering the pencil as he went.

The End