ATF Universe
"Thank you, sir." Vin stood off to the side as he watched Chris handle compliments smoothly. The senior agent shook hands, smiled, listened politely and looked completely at ease. Vin wished he could do the same. He was used to the tuxedo by now. Hell, after the fifth time Chris had drug him off to an awards banquet they were being honored at, he'd just bought one instead of renting. "ll except the shoes. Vin had been adamant about not wearing the tight, shiny dress shoes. He felt much more at home in his freshly polished boots. If they wanted to take back the award because his shoes weren't right, let 'em.Vin knew Chris had pretty much given up on the 'shoe-issue'. As long as he could get the quiet sharpshooter to endure the ceremony and stand up with him during the recognition, he wouldn't complain. A little joking, maybe, but no complaints. And so, when Vin had stepped out of their hotel room, standing nervously in the newly purchased shoes, Chris hadn't known what to say. Vin had blushed as Chris looked him over, shaking his head before snapping about getting going before 'these damned shoes get used for target practice.' Now, Vin wished he hadn't bought the shoes. They were pinching his feet severely and any thoughts he might have even considered about venturing over to the Sweetheart dance, in honor of the Valentine's holiday, in the adjoining room were all but forgotten.
But the purchase and the pain were worth it. Chris had been pleased and lately that was all Vin seemed to care about. The agent reached up to brush one stubborn strand of hair back behind his ear as he saw Chris look over and catch him hiding out against a wall. With that typical Larabee ease, he excused himself from the group of spit-and-polished big-wigs and started towards the younger agent. Vin straightened up quickly, feeling his heart beat just a bit faster. A small blush began working its way up his cheeks and the young man silently cursed himself for his lack of control over the redness. There was no reason for him to blush. Well, other than the fact that he loved Chris Larabee.
Vin didn't even try to deny the thought as it came into his mind as he'd first done a few months ago. He'd fought valiantly against the fact that he could love another man like that. Want to be with him like that. Love as friends, okay. Brotherly love, something new, but safe. But this...this was a lover's love. Vin found himself staring in the typically black-clad man's direction more than usual, watching him work, worry, and relax by turns. And he found himself doing anything to make those looks of pain, stress, and tiredness go away. Oh, he'd not done anything to warrant notice from anyone, but Vin knew inside that he was trying to help. And he knew why to. Love. Hell, it'd been why he'd bought these damn shoes in the first place. Just another thing he was willing to do if it made people look at Senior "gent Chris Larabee with a bit more class than their gaze dropping to his boots and smiling.
"Hey cowboy. Watcha doin' back here? People gonna think I don't treat my dates right." Chris came up beside him and smiled, leaning against the wall as his clear green eyes took in the room. Vin felt his heart do what he could only guess was one of those flutters romance books talked about all the time. In turn, the sharpshooter allowed his blue eyes to quickly caress Chris' frame in the black tux. Damn but the man did clean up good. Here his obsession was, so close, joking about dates, and all Vin could do was try to remember how to breathe. Then he realized that Chris had turned and was looking at him, obviously expecting an answer.
"Hell," Vin snorted. "Don't understand why they had to have this thing on Valentine's Day anyway. Sweetheart dances are fine and dandy if'n you got a sweetheart." Chris just grinned, knowing that almost any kind of social engagement went against Vin's nature.
"What do you think I brought you for? I was hoping for a dance." There was that flutter again. Vin saw the mischievous glint in Chris' eyes and couldn't resist a grin. His feet protested at even the thought of dancing in these shoes, but Vin would have gladly danced 'til his feet were bloody if Chris asked.
"Nah, don't think that'd settle to well with them seat-shiners over there. 'Sides, who'd lead?" Chris laughed outright and Vin felt a small warmth in his chest. God he loved this man. And Chris didn't have a clue. There were several times Vin had almost told him over the past two months, but had held back. It wasn't that he was afraid of what Chris would think of him. Hell, Chris was pretty open-minded. It might not phase him at all. For the smallest moments, sometimes late at night, Vin even fantasized that the man had returned his profession.
No, what he was worried about was their relationship afterwards. How would they work? He'd watched couples that worked together. The ones he'd seen hadn't lasted long. They'd split up, sometimes never talking to one another again. The specialness had been lost. And nothing, not even the chance to hold that strong, lean body close to his own, was worth throwing away the relationship they had already.
"Good question," Chris finally answered. Vin was struck for a moment trying to remember exactly what that question was. How Chris tasted? Or how he managed to find tuxedo pants that were almost as desirable as those jeans he wore to work every day. He saw Chris staring towards the dancers and his mind clicked. The slow blush was back and Vin wished desperately that he'd grabbed a glass of champagne off the last waiter that had gone by. Or better yet, whiskey. Anything to burn out the thoughts in his head. "t least until they got back to the hotel. Although that in itself was its own brand of torture. Sharing a room with Chris.... How had he done it those other times? Easy... He hadn't loved him then.
"I guess we could flip for it," Chris started as a bubbly woman in a dark, lacey dress walked over to them. Vin watched as Larabee was dragged away to meet yet another important agent and leaned back against the wall. When the waiter walked close by the next time he quickly put in his order and almost sighed in relief as a tumbler of fine, southern whiskey was delivered to him. It wasn't the same as the imagined warmth his leader could bring to him, but it would have to do.
+ + + + + + +
Close to midnight, Chris and Vin found themselves walking towards the car the hotel had furnished them with. The dance was over and the last of the high-powered agents were leaving, finally allowing the two honorees of the evening to retire with all the graces of good form. Vin forced himself not to limp in the pain causing shoes as they crossed the almost empty parking lot. He'd just have to be damned sure that they didn't earn another commendation for quite awhile. Instead, he concentrated on the beauty of their surroundings. If it was one thing these "ward and Honor functions were good for, it was travel. The last one had landed them in the middle of the ocean at Hawaii, and this one had them comfortably settled in a small suburb of New Orleans in Louisiana. The town was in danger of being over-run by the ever present swamp, but it hadn't gone under yet. Instead, there were areas where the city and the swamp met on equal terms and you could literally put one foot on pavement and have the other three inches from an alligator.
The hotel the ceremonies had been held at was such a place. In fact, it was named the "Two Worlds Inn" because the back of the hotel looked out directly into the swamp. Vin looked ahead to their car and saw that, had Chris pulled forward another foot and half, they would have been parked in the swamp. Both of them made it to the car, and Chris reached the passenger side first and inserted the key, unlocking the door before he opened it with a flourish.
"Sorry about the dance." He smiled and Vin just shook his head. Chris could find the strangest things funny and keep them going for days.
""h, I won't hold it against ya. But ya owe me one. I'll just make ya repay me at Inez's saloon one of these nights." Chris smiled evilly.
"Then we could decided who got to lead after picking JD up off the floor and seeing what kinda odds Ezra was laying." Vin just shook his head as he moved to get into the car, unsure of whether or not his heart could be heard above the soft sounds of the nearby swamp. The thought caused him to pause for just a moment, one foot inside the car and one foot on the ground. He forced his ears to listen carefully, relying on all the years his instincts had been honed while bounty hunting. Chris saw his pause and his eyes immediately began searching the area, trying to penetrate the surrounding darkness.
"What?" he whispered, knowing that something had captured Vin's attention. And the something was not a little something. He easily recognized the image he saw before him as that of man who was used to hunting and being hunted and knew when something around him wasn't right. Vin cocked his head and moved away from the car towards the swamp.
"Listen." Both men fell silent and immediately Chris realized what he'd been talking about. There was no sound at all. Not even the crickets they'd heard earlier upon their arrival. There hadn't been a sound when they'd walked out, either. Something had disturbed the creatures of the swamp, and their silence was telling the two that it wasn't something normal.
"Chris, did you grab that bag with our guns?" The sentence had no more left his lips than a dark shape rushed forward, silent and swift. Vin turned, catching the move out of the corner of his eye as Larabee rushed forward to ward off the attack. But it was too late. Tanner fell to his knees as a loud thud came from behind him. A second later the pain hit and he struggled to see. Pavement and shoes. Only then did he realize he was laying on the ground. He felt something hot and wet oozing down his neck towards his face and swore silently as he recognized the coppery scent of blood. And with that realization, his head decided to let him know that something was not right and it began pounding out a message to tell him so.
Just then, a soft cry came from above, followed by a muffled curse. Shit, Chris! Vin heaved himself up to his knees, trying to locate the other man. When his vision cleared, he watched as the two grappled with each other. They were both about the same build, but Chris appeared to have the longer reach. Not that it mattered much because it was the other man that had the knife. Vin saw the blade glint in the moonlight before it whooshed forward to tear at the thick tuxedo jacket. "gain, Chris swore, but Vin couldn't tell if it was in pain or just rage at the loss of another coat.
Vin staggered to his feet as the man with the knife moved in again, taunting and teasing Larabee. A quick jab followed a second swoop and this time Vin knew that Chris had been hit. The quick fall of the man had told him long before he saw part of the blade darkened against the moon's shine. He tried to move forward but an ominous click from behind him stopped that.
"I'll drop ya where ya stand." The voice was hard and flat, leaving no doubts that it was telling the truth. Vin stood at an angle, watching as Chris tried to curl up, his arms wrapped protectively around his middle.
"He live?" the voice asked again. The man with the knife walked forward and jerked Larabee's arms out of his way. Vin watched as he pulled away the white shirt, now staining with blood, and probed at the wounds. Chris groaned softly, but didn't move. Standing, the other man nodded and quickly reached down to pull Larabee up. Chris was gasping and Vin could see the blood running from his lip and nose. Apparently he'd gotten in a few good blows before the knife had come into play.
"Plug him with something. Can't have him bleeding to death before we get there." With the same proficiency and coldness that the voice gave off, the man bent and ripped Chris' shirt, tucking it around and into the long slice on his stomach and the shallow slice along his ribs before placing the agents right arm over them to hold them in place. Then, he led the man over to where Vin was still standing. Tanner quickly slipped under the other man's left arm to offer his support. Chris was getting his breath back now, and Vin could see the cold anger in his eyes, giving him strength.
"What the hell do you want?" The question was snapped out in the same cold, commanding tone as the voice had been using and Vin almost forgot just who held the gun and was in charge.
""ll I want is you two where I'm supposed to take you. Then, you can ask that question to your appointment there." He jerked the gun towards the swamp and Vin watched their other attacker walk to the edge of the darkness. He switched on a flashlight and started walking. Vin slowly started after him, trying to help Chris and not stagger too much. Any wrong move from either of them just might get them shot. He didn't think the man would kill them, but he knew he didn't want another pain slowing them down when they found the chance to escape.
Leaning on one another, Chris and Vin disappeared into the swamp as the gunman quietly closed the door, pocketed the keys, and followed, leaving no trace except for the silence of the crickets and the blood under the moon.
+ + + + + + +
Vin winced as he heard Chris gasp in pain. Stupid! he berated himself, watching even more carefully where he placed his now muddy shoes. They were getting harder and harder to pull out of the sticky, black muck, and when he did muster up enough strength to do so, it usually sent him stumbling. Like just now when he'd pulled, lost his balance and bounced Chris into a tree, jarring his body. He knew that the senior agent was not seriously injured, but those wounds still hurt when somebody else slammed you into a tree. Many more hits like that and Vin was afraid he'd start up the slow ooze of blood from the man again.
The young agent was no longer sure of just how long they had been walking now. His only help was the watch Larabee always wore on his arm, but the crystal had been shattered during their capture. Vin glanced up. If I could only see the stars...the moon.... The only thing he had was that it was growing lighter. Close to dawn... That would put them at having been walking for over five hours.
Branches and thick weeds seemed to jump out from everywhere, as if consciously trying to trip the two men. Vin was irritated with himself for not being able to avoid them. It didn't matter that he was doing good to see more than two feet in front of him before everything went blurry and crossed, nor that every step in the now soaked shoes and socks just rubbed worse on his already formed blisters. Vin knew that they had to have broke now, probably some were even bleeding. Well, at least I got my dance to go with it, Vin thought blearily, a small quirk of a smile on his lips as he and Larabee staggered forward, arms draped around one another. And on the heels of that thought, Vin realized he wasn't thinking too clearly.
Vin couldn't help but appreciate the feel of the strong muscles under the cloth. The arm resting heavily on his shoulders, tightening every now and then to help guide or to follow. The lean back and tight ribs, shifting with every movement of his hips. Vin wondered what it would feel like to have them in the same position without those damned tuxedos in the way. Having let his attention slip for a moment, Vin caught his heel on a vine and slipped for a moment, biting his lip to keep from crying out as his raw feet were hard pressed to keep him upright.
Everything swam in circles for a minute as the pounding in his head turned into a full fledged free-for-all between Mike Tyson and his skull. What the hell is wrong with you, Tanner? Keep your mind on what's going on or you're gonna get yourself and Chris killed! Regaining his balance, Vin finally felt Chris' tightened grip on his shoulder and realized that his right hand had also reached out to grab his shirt.
"I'm alright, cowboy," he whispered, taking Chris' hand and moving it back to hold the bandages around his middle in place. That was hard to do. The feel of Chris' warm hand on his chest was a balm to the pains Vin was feeling. However, common sense won out and Tanner slammed a door down on the rising tide of his feelings. He was getting good at that. Vin couldn't let those bandages fall out. Even if the blood didn't start to flow again, there was no telling what kind of infections their surroundings could impart to Larabee's injured body. Vin grimaced as he took another step, unable to ignore the pain that came stabbing up from his feet.
"Don't look alright," Chris whispered back. A worried frown was on his face. He'd seen the blood that had dried on Vin's neck and knew the younger man had taken a serious blow to the back of the head. Vin had began to be disoriented, stumbling more often than not. Chris had tried his best to keep the other man on his feet, but he was having a hard enough time of that himself. The cuts he had received were hardly life threatening now that the bleeding had stopped, but they severely limited his ability to move before causing him great pain.
"Shoes hurtin' my feet," Vin said quietly. Chris shot a side-ways glance at the younger man. If the voice was anything to go by, there was probably a deep red blush covering Vin's face. Chris grimaced as he pulled sharply to keep Vin from going down, both wasting precious breath on soft curses.
"Shouldn't have wore 'em so new, I guess," Chris gasped out, feeling the sweat run down his back. Damn, but he hated this humidity. He refused to believe it could be anything to do with the fact that he had lost a good deal of his blood and what was left felt like fire in his veins.
"Sorry, cowboy, but I hadn't exactly been plannin' on a forced march at gunpoint through the swamps of Louisiana tonight." Vin's voice was tired, and Chris could feel it coming off of him in waves. But there was something else under that tiredness. Larabee wasn't quite sure what. He wished he could see Vin's eyes. Ezra may be capable of telling about a person through their voice but Chris knew he would be able to tell every thought running through Vin's head if he could just see his eyes.
Vin held his breath. He could feel Larabee's eyes on him. Knew that the senior agent had heard that small catch in his voice he hadn't been able to stop. Vin shook his head slightly to clear it as the ground dipped out from under him again. Clenching his teeth, Vin swore inside his head. He was tired. So damned tired. "ll he wanted to do was get out of these shoes, lie down, and sleep for a month. But here he was, traipsing through wet, muck, and mud with a headache, and his arms wrapped around the figure his dreams had been centered on for months. "ll he needed now was for Larabee to start digging at him.
"Why the hell are ya wearing them? What happened to your boots?" There it was, right on cue. Vin had wondered when Chris would get around to asking why he'd worn the shoes. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to tell him. He'd considered lying, saying something about how he lost his boots. Yeah, he'd believe that. As JD would say, Not! Vin knew that Chris would see right through that one. Hell, Vin would just about rather be without his pants than his boots. Losing them was not even an option. After running through several different excuses, Vin had just decided that maybe the truth would be best. Just tell him how he felt and wait to see what happened. It'd be better than this constant ache of not knowing. However, knowing he was gonna tell him hadn't really given him the words of how. Words weren't his forte. Action had always suited him better.
And this wasn't exactly the setting he'd planned on, either. Vin wasn't entirely sure what'd he'd had in mind. The hotel, perhaps. After the ceremony was over and he could have been alone with Chris. Could've told him why he'd worn them. For you, Chris. There were the words to match the devotion and love he felt towards the blunt, honest man beside him. Vin closed his eyes briefly as they paused to navigate a steep incline. Why hold back now? the little voice inside him said. And Vin, too tired to care anymore, listened.
"I was wearing them for you!" he shot out, his voice rising.
"Enough talk!" That cold voice that had always been in control, and yet, hadn't uttered a word since their capture, was back. But the owner apparently didn't believe in verbal threats alone. He struck swiftly, pulling Vin away from Larabee and throwing a wicked punch to his midsection. Vin doubled over and almost went down before the man connected two more to his side and a final blow to his head. He released the now gasping man to fall to the ground.
"Bastard!" Chris shouted, throwing himself bodily at the gunman. There was no question as to what was making him hot right then. Rage. Pure, unadulterated rage. His green eyes glowed with it as he saw Vin curl up to protect his aching body. Forgetting his own wounds, he attacked with all the force of a hurricane. But, it was all for naught. The gunman didn't have two seven inch slices in his body that burst into white, agonizing pain as Larabee's weight drove them to the ground. While Chris tried to fight the blinding flashes on the edge of his vision, the gunman simply rolled to his feet before lashing out with the toe of his boot to find the agent's body. Chris jerked as the kick landed in the small of his back, pain radiating out to every inch of him. The gunman reached down and grasped his sweat-damp hair, hauling him to his feet and throwing him against a moss covered skeleton of a tree.
Vin wasn't sure exactly what had happened. "ll he knew was that he was now covered in the slimy, black muck they'd been walking through. Vin tried to catch his breath, but each rise and fall of his chest only made him gasp for more as the pain assaulted him. His ribs burned with a fire he'd felt on more than one occasion. "t least one was broken. Damn! Tanner struggled to his knees, his arms wrapped tightly about his battered body.
Vin swung his gaze around slowly, his head feeling like a pail in which the blood sloshed around, threatening to spill over the side. A restraining hand was laid to his shoulder and Vin glanced down to see the black glove hiding the skin. Not Chris....where's Chris?! The sharpshooter moved his eyes as quickly as his brain allowed, trying to make the swirling images make sense. Once they finally did, it was all he could do not to groan. Chris was being held up against a tree by one of the gunman's arms against his throat. And that appeared to be the only thing keeping Chris standing. Larabee was pale and shaking, one hand wrapped around the gunman's arm, be it to pull it away or help keep him up, Vin wasn't sure. The other was pressed tightly to his middle. Damn!
"Get him on his feet," the voice commanded, jerking his head in Vin's direction. Vin barely had a moment to prepare himself before the other man was hauling him up from the ground. A flush crossed Tanner's face as he cried out in pain, certain that he was about to collapse back to the ground in a dead faint. Make that three broken ribs. The rest are just gone. "t his cry, Chris' head snapped up, as did the man holding him.
"Can he walk?" he asked his companion. The other man shrugged before giving Vin a push forward, watching him stagger a bit before falling to his knees. Vin refused to go down completely, and forced himself to stand again. He weaved for a moment, the white agony of his body all he could see, but stayed more or less upright.
"Might slow us down." The man nodded, seeming to ponder. Vin held his breath. Now would be the time to try something. Anything. He was free and had some distance between himself and his captors. It was time to fight or fly. Fight! his brain screamed... But his body, taxed and bleeding, would not obey. Vin drug in several shallow breaths, watching his chance, possibly his only chance, slip away as the gunman moved away from Chris, shoving him towards Vin.
"We're not too far now. He can make it. 'Sides, I think their new friend will enjoy the company.... Move!" Once again, Vin found himself with one arm around Larabee, trying to remember how to put one foot in front of the other without becoming hopelessly tangled in the vines and crashing both of them to the ground. Every so often, he would shake his head to clear it. The stabbing pain from his ribs would travel up his spine to meet that of his head on the way down, causing an enormous throbbing at the base of his skull. Whoever they were going to meet, Vin hoped he would be merciful and just shoot them on sight.
+ + + + + + +
The harsh sound of the phone cut through the air, trying to reach the buried head of one agent Buck Wilmington. JD'll get it, he thought sleepily, burrowing under the pillows even more. He wanted to get back to his dreams. The new red-head on the floor below at work was quite an inspiration to Buck's nocturnal fascinations. Three more rings, however, abruptly ended his vision just as he was reaching for the buttons on her blouse.
"Dammit, JD, where the hell...oh...." Buck groused, throwing blankets aside as he remembered that the youth and his semi-girlfriend, Casey, had gone skiing this weekend. Wilmington hopped a bit as his feet hit the cold floor, staring blearily at the clock before answering the annoying phone. Little past 4:30 in the morning. Somebody better have a damned good reason.
"What?" he grunted, putting the phone to his ear as he sat down in a chair by the table. I swear, JD, if this is you calling for me to come pick you up 'cuz your little two-wheeled toy is stuck in the snow....
"ATF "gent Buck Wilmington, Denver, Colorado?" Buck sat up straighter in his chair, trying to recognize the voice. It had a quality to it almost like that of Ezra's, but not quite the same, and it carried the edge of someone used to being in command.
"Yes?"
""gent Wilmington, this is Senior "gent Jackson DeVareau from New Orleans." New Orleans?! Chris & Vin! "Wilmington, we have reason to believe that someone has taken custody of Senior "gent Chris Larabee and "gent Vin Tanner of your team. Their car was found in the Two Worlds Inn parking lot this morning. Neither agent was found, and the keys were missing. There was also two blood samples taken, both matches to the blood-types of Larabee and Tanner. A search has been organized and I assure you we have the best to be found on the job." The other man paused for a moment and Buck took the opportunity to jump in as he grabbed his pants from beside the bed.
"That's good to hear, sir. Appreciate the call, but I think the others of the team and me'll be coming down there to make sure of that ourselves, if'n ya don't mind." Not that Wilmington cared if DeVareau minded or not. Come hell or high water, he was going to New Orleans. A soft chuckle came from the receiver, followed by DeVareau's voice. However, it had lost some of that professional tone and Buck could almost feel the smile in it.
"That's what I figured. We'll be expectin' you on the first available flight. I've already okayed it with Travis." Buck quickly ended the conversation, grabbing the cordless phone from the dresser as he hopped down the hall, trying to dial and pull on his boots at the same time. Each call was the same. A groggy hello, with a threat of death from Ezra, followed by Wilmington's quick sentence: "Chris & Vin are in trouble. Be at the office in 20 minutes ready to go to New Orleans." He knew each man would be there, needing no other explanation than that. Buck grabbed and stuffed several of his and JD's things into an over-sized duffel bag before rounding up their guns, extra clips, and his ID. It was time to head south.
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