Setting: ATF AU
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fanfiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters, settings or song references. I don't own the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from anything contained in this story.
NOTE: Big thanks, no HUGE thanks to Julie, for her invaluable, generous and wonderful medical assistance.
Half a century is quite a landmark, she thought, putting away the photographs from her fiftieth birthday party. Held a month ago, it had been quite the fêum;te. So many friends from over the years had come to the party, thrown by Sara. At sixty, her older sister was still a mainstay in her life. She thought about the diary and the long night after the party, when they'd told Shantay of her origins. She expressed little interest in the story, not wanting anything to disturb her norms. She didn't like waves or to be noticed. She wore her plain and no makeup, seeking to 'blend-in'.
At twenty-four, her blond, blue-eyed daughter was content. That was a word that bothered Lily, for in all her days, she'd never settled for 'content'. Her galleries stretched from coast to coast and her name was known in most of the art world. She worried about her daughter, who was much too quiet and serious. From the time Shantay arrived, she gravitated to Sara, immediately expressing an interest in helping people. Deep down, Lily had been disappointed. She'd hoped her only child would be a creative expressionist like her parents.
The most troubling news had been the man who Sara mentioned in the letters. He was thirty, a plain man with thinning brown hair and 'weasely' eyes, as her sister described. If Sara didn't approve of him, Lily knew she wouldn't. Sara couldn't imagine what Shantay saw in him. She'd shown little interest in boys in high school and had only a smattering of dates in college. Although not a beauty, she was a fair child, with pleasant features. Her doctorate work was in Arizona and Sara had played a key role in getting her the appointment. She was studying ancient civilizations on a Native American reservation. She met this man in Flagstaff, while in town picking up supplies. He was a salesman, bringing merchandise up from Mexico.
"Four months!" Lily nearly dropped the letter. How could Shantay have kept it from them? Even Sara was surprised, she'd only found out by accident, having seen the two of them together in town, walking arm in arm. She confronted Shantay, who confessed to the relationship.
"Relationship?" She was nearly done the letter, when the phone rang. She eyed the approaching hour of ten p.m. and frowned. "Hello?"
"Lily, I hope I didn't wake you..."
"No Trish," the other admitted to Sara's assistant. Trish had been Sara's right hand for over fifteen years now and a trusted family friend. "Is Sara alright?"
"She's fine, it's Shantay, you see..."
"What happened? Is she hurt? How bad? I'll get the next flight out and..."
"No! Lily! Let me finish, she's eloped."
"What!" The shocked mother jumped up and scowled, "When? How?"
"Sometime this morning to Mexico, we just got a phone call. They're staying down there for awhile."
"Why? My God, Why would she do this?" Lily sobbed, sinking into a chair.
"I don't know, Lily, I'm sorry..." the assistant eyed Sara, who was very upset. "I'm worried about Sara, she's blaming herself, she's very upset."
"You tell her that's nonsense and I'll be there tomorrow. Thank you Trish, for taking such good care of her."
Lily hung the phone up and poured herself a shot of Tequila. She sat dumbfounded, thinking on where she'd gone wrong. She drained it and poured a second shot, when the phone rang again.
"Hello?"
"We have a collect call from Mrs. Hank Conley, will you accept?"
"Who?"
"It's me, Mother..."
"Yes, Operator, that's fine...Shantay? Where are you? Are you okay? What on earth have you done!"
"I'm fine, I'm in Mexico with my husband. Don't worry about me, I'm...we're happy..."
"Why? Why did you do this? Do you hate me that much?"
"My God, Mother, why is it always about you? From the time I was small, it was always about you. Your shows, your galleries, you stupid artwork, that's all I ever was to you...another bloody piece of your collection."
"That's not true. How dare you talk to me like that! Where are you? I'm coming down there and..."
"Goodbye Mother..."
"Hello...Hello...Shantay..." She clung to the dialtone until it left. Tears streamed down her face and she slowly collected herself. She packed her bags and called the airlines, securing a flight the next day. She'd check on Sara first, then track down the bastard who stole her daughter. This Hank Conley wouldn't take her baby away.
The coffee in Louis's mouth turned bitter and he swallowed hard. He scanned the repulsive headline and tossed the paper down in disgust. Sighing, he left the table in the sitting room and strode into the bedroom. At fifty-four he was in good health and happy, well until a week ago. When his anniversay lunch was spoiled by a courier bearing a special delivery. It was from a lawyer in Baton Rouge, Armand Brodner. He sighed, recalling the picnic on the floor, and for a moment let the troubles disappear. From the mists of time, back to another sunny day in 1945, when Joey came into his life. For over a week, every contract he sent up to the accountants office in San Francisco had been returned with red penned changes. Furious, on the seventh day he sought out this 'Joey Donetti'. He'd send him packing, who the hell did Donetti think he was. He smiled, still recalling the moment they met. He strode into the office, never bothering to knock, and tossed the documents down.
"I put those clauses in there specifically!' he hollered, to the back of a tall chair.
"...and that's just how I took them all out," a soft voice answered, "specifically."
The soft voice and large brown eyes belonged to Mrs. Josephine Donetti a widow three years his senior. She had a great laugh, a good heart and a mind sharp as a tac. She caught every error, knew every angle of how to save them costs and where to cut corners. She was the best thing that every happend to him and six months later, she was his bride. Now, they celebrated that date, with the same meal. After hours of fighting about clauses, they'd taken a break and ate on the floor of her office. Peanut butter and jelly on crackers, potato salad and ginger ale.
She was the best thing that ever happened to him. She fell in love with Louis Andrews, a common man. That was who she still loved. The money and wealth meant nothing to her. She still held her position at the head of the accounting division in San Francisco. He spent two weeks every month there and she one week with him here.
"I'm not paying you to brood, Mr. Andrews!"
He smiled then, feeling her arms encircle his waist. He turned and caught her hand, kissing it tenderly. "I don't know, Joey...this is bad..."
"She's lying. We'll prove it and send that bitch packing!" The tiny woman decreed, her dark eyes blazing. "We both know you didn't father that child, you can't father a child..."
"Yes, but that will be buried on page nine somewhere with the shoe sales of the local departement store. It won't make three inch headlines like that!" he pointed to the paper.
"FORMER SERVENT TELLS OF FORCED AFFAIR AND SECRET LOVE CHILD FATHERED BY LOUIS MOREAU."
"It's garbage, why did you even read it!" Joey tossed the paper into the trash. "She was crazy...I know it and you know it. That's all that matters..."
Louis wondered about that. Jeanette Cassata had been hired as a maid, to help clean and upkeep the large mansion. She was new to the area and didn't speak much English. But she worked hard and didn't miss any time. Then one day, Manual, who'd been his personal assistant for many years, shook him awake gently, pointing to the bed. There she was, naked asleep next to him. She'd ranted and raved, carrying on and shouted loudly to anyone who'd listen that he'd forced her to have sex with him for months. She'd been let go and given a job out of the state. They thought that was the end of it. Now she was telling wild stories to the press.
"Come on, Mister Andrews," Joey pushed him towards the door. "You have a date with the lawyers..."
It was thrown out of course, once the Judge read the doctor's reports about Louis's condition. Jeanette, of course, didn't believe it and vowed revenge. Two months later she was found unconscious, suffering from drug and alchohol abuse. Apparently, she'd been an addict since she was fifteen. The child was taken away and put into foster care. Joey took Louis on an extended trip to her 'country' Italy and it'd taken years off the troubled man. How he loved his Joey.
Fifty-nine year old Grace Rutherford was still a very attractive woman. Her dark hair was short and yet to turn gray. Her violet-blue eyes were still sharp. She was the head of the Administration in the hospital and taught at the university as well. She came home early today, it was Thursday and Cathy and her husband Jim were coming for dinner. Married five years, the two were devoted to each other, had good jobs and a nice home. The only thing that haunted them was the inability, so far, to have a child. She heard a knock on the door and noted the clock. They were early, not due for an hour yet. She froze when she saw the courier at the door.
"Yes?"
"Mrs. John Rutherford?"
She couldn't speak, she didn't remember anything but his apology. She stood transfixed, unable to read the telegram. She only got through the first few words and it drifted to the carpet.
"We regret to inform you that your son, Captain John Rutherford, Junior, was killed in action in Vietnam."
The others left, tossing roses and expressing their condolences. A squeeze on the shoulder, a peck on the cheek, a grab of the black gloves she wore, that is what is amounted to. She nodded politely and said all the right words. Her swollen eyes were puffed and red, dry from lack of tears. The pain in her chest was reduced to a dull ache. Had it not been for the tiny tug on her hand, she'd not be able to move her limbs.
"All done?"
"Yes, Sweetheart, we're all done...Say goodbye to Mommy. She's an angel in heaven now."
"But I don't want her to go 'way!" the four-year old pouted, lip trembling.
"I don't either, Sweetheart, but she'll always be watching over us...always. She'll always love you."
"Where's my Daddy?"
Lily cringed, squeezed the tiny white-gloved hand and her mouth formed a grim line. The eyes that many were too beautiful for words, were now hard. Her perfect lips formed a grim line. He should be drawn and quartered, left to rot in the desert. Instead he was behind bars, awaiting sentencing. From the first night she'd laid eyes on that bastard, she'd knew somehow, he'd end up hurting Shantay.
The phone call came a month later, from a third rate medical center in Nogales, Mexico. A slurred voice on the phone, she could almost smell the liquor.
"She lost the kid...she's bleeding bad...they don't know if she'll live..."
That was her introduction to her son-in-law, Hank Conley. Sara had been three months pregnant and married four weeks. She was defeated from the start. Hank already had her beaten down. Lily lost her...she wouldn't listen to reason, Lily even begged her to come home. But Shantay believed in his lies. He was going to change, he wasn't going to drink anymore. There were other women, of course, and that only lowered Shantay's self esteem. They drifted apart, only Sara heard from her. Then a miracle occured, four years and two months ago. A child was born. Not just any child, a spectacular child. Lily took one look at the infant, with glossy black curls and large blue eyes with purple iris's and doubted Hank Conley could have sired such a magnificent creature. Shantay was ill, loaded with infection, from his whores, no doubt. He travelled to much to care for her and agreed to let her and the baby come to Santa Fe to live. Shantay never really got well. Her 'so called husband' hadn't seen her in months. Lily's secretary tracked him down the day she died. He was in a Texas jail, arrested for drunk and disorderly and assault.
"Grandmère...where's my Daddy?"
Despite his other bad traits, he did care about the child and visited her often. On those days, he chose to remain sober and for the child's sake, she was glad. But that changed the day she buried her baby. She'd raise this special child, who not only looked like her, but possessed a fire inside. She was outgoing, exhuberant, extremely bright and a joy to behold. Lily had raised her from the first day and was devoted to her.
"Is he coming to supper?"
"No, Dear, he's...on travel...for quite some time."
"Oh!" She pouted, climbing into the car. "Grandmere, look at my pretty necklace. Mommy give it to me when she got sick."
"Yes, Sweetheart, it's very beautiful and you must promise to be careful with it, it belonged to my mother, it's very old." She eyed the tiny heart shaped locket on the pretty little girl's neck.
"It be safe?"
"Yes, how about if you help Grandmère make a special box to keep it in?"
"Okay...can we put an angel on the box?" The large eyes requested.
"That's a wonderful idea!" Lily touted, pulling Sara Isabella Conley into her lap. "Let's go home." She instructed the driver
"I love you, Grandmere!"
"Not as much as I love you, Sara," Lily hugged her tight.
Lily swallowed hard and wondered about the balance. For several months, since Sara's death, she'd been inconsolable. Her older sister was everything to her. The cancer was painful and the silent brown eyes begged her in the end. But she had her Sara be her side, the beautiful eyes much too wise for a normal, eighteen-year old. Without her precious jewel, she'd have suffered a horrid depression. They'd taken a trip to Italy and Switzerland, where the beguiling teen had brought the joy back into her life. She watched her now, tall and proud, walking across the stage to get her diploma. Long dark curls cascaded down her back, the beautiful face was equalled by the heart and soul inside. She was treasure, full of love and hope and inspiration. Like her grandmother, a gifted artist, excelling in sketching, painting and sculpture. She was off to college and to conquer the world. Despite the ache in her chest, she felt a happiness inside.
"That's my baby."
Lily grimaced at the voice next to her. Hank had changed a little over the years. He couldn't drink as much, his health was suffering. He didn't work much, but he did love Sara. Four years ago, he'd moved to Santa Fe, getting a small apartment. Sara spent a great deal of time with him and he did care for her. Still, when she saw him, all she saw was the heartless, cheating mean villian who stole her baby.
"Grandmère! Daddy!"
"Here, Sweetheart!" Lily waved, accepting the flying hug. "Your Aunt Sara would be so proud..." her voice cracked, as she stoked the child's face. Her fingers touched on the locket and she studied the graduate carefully. One day, when she was older and had her roots under her, she'd tell her of her ancestry. For now, the sun was radiating from the vivacious girl's face, and that was enough.
Grace laughed and shook her white curly head, eyeing the pretty teenager. She remained on the porch swing, gliding back and forth, while her daughter and son-in-law packed the car. The cause of the family squabble bounced past, pausing to kiss her cheek.
"See Ya Grams! Love ya!"
"Bye-bye, Honey, take care of yourself."
"Mom! I'm only going across town to college, not across the world. I don't need all those sheets and blankets. There's no room for Buckles in there," she held onto the tattered bunny that had been a gift from her father the day she turned one.
"You can't be too careful!" Cathy Harte warned, smiling at her only child. Caitlin Jaime Harte had been a miracle, born long after they'd given up hope. Just turned eighteen, she was ready to conquer the world. A studious child, with a great sense of humor and a zest for life, she loved history and english. She was off to Tulane to take a dual major. Her dark curly hair was cut short, framing her heart shaped face. Her large eyes were nearly amethyst and suited the pretty face. She was tall and graceful, an excellent swimmer and rider. She'd been their joy for eighteen years, now she was sprouting her wings.
"Bye Pops!" She kissed her father and climbed behind the wheel. "Hey, don't rent my room out yet!"
Cathy and Jim paused, arm in arm as she pulled down the driveway. Grace stood on the porch, waving and crying a little.
"Goodbye Cait!"
He was alone again, after all these years. The dark hair was gone, only a thin scattering of white was left behind. He walked through the garden, slowly, savoring the heady aroma of the multitude of flowers. Finally, he came to the crypt and entered. He sat down on a chair between the two tombs, bearing the two most influencial people in his life.
"Hello Mother," he kissed a single white rose and left it on her tomb, remembering the grand, beautiful woman who held his hand as a boy and given him the world. "Hello Joey," he kissed a pink rose and left it on the new tomb of the love of his life, gone for two months now. He sat back then and remembered, all the fun and adventures these two great women had given him.
"Grandmère! Where are you! How was your trip?"
"Landsakes, Child, the house isn't on fire!" Lily laughed, her deft fingers working the clay. She'd been away all winter, visiting friends. Sara spent the winter in New Orleans, which she'd been drawn to since college. "What is it?" She paused, seeing a new light shining from the purple-blue eyes. Her cheeks were flushed with a familiar glow and the old ladie's heart sang. "Who is he?" She smiled, accepted the hug and tug to her feet.
"He's Adonis come to life!" Sara bragged, breathlessly. "You must meet him. Blond hair, green eyes...a killer smile...lean and luscious...he's magnificent!"
"How's his ass?" Lily raised an artist's eyebrow.
"Forget it!" Sara laughed, "You're not stealing him. Besides, he too old for you. He's past twenty-one." She noted of the models decorating her grandmother's sketch books.
"Very funny!" the attractive old woman took off her smock and washed her hands.
"Daddy hates him!" the pretty girl admitted.
"Reason enough to marry him," Lily countered, then took the girl's hand and stared into the eyes so like her own. "Follow your heart, Child...if he loves you that deeply...you follow your heart."
"Thanks, Grandmère," She sighed, eyeing this woman she loved so much. Everything she knew about life came from her. "You'll love him too...he's a good man...honest and sincere."
"So when do I get to meet Mister Wonderful?"
"At dinner tonight. We're meeting the boys over there..." Sara decided, "How was Paris?"
"The City of Lovers and Dreams..." Lily sighed, "Now who is this magnificent man and how did you meet him."
"Three months ago at Mardi Gras. Annie bet I wouldn't do it...it was the easiest twenty bucks I ever made."
"Do what?" Lily asked, getting into the car. "Nothing illegal?"
"No, but naughty..." the pretty eyes lit up with violet fire. "We were in the middle of Bourbon Street, full of uh...spirits you might say. I looked up and saw him right through the crowd. My heart stopped, I swear , Grandmère, he saw me and all the noise the street." She sighed, turning on the ignition.
Lily saw the heart shaped locket on her granddaughter's neck glowing just a bit brighter. She smiled, feeling something special had happened. "Then what happened?"
"Well," Sara grinned evilly, "It went like this..."
Chris Larabee watched his partner and best friend manuever around the pretty girl. He chuckled and stood, seeing Sara's car pull up outside the hotel. Before he could signal the womanizer, the resounding sound of a slap was heard. The blond lowered his head and grinned, as the never-say-die Wilmington approached.
"She was crazy about me!"
"Yeah, I could see that," Larabee deadpanned, heading to the door. "Hi, Babe..."
"Hi yourself," Sara accepted his kiss and turned to the woman by her side. "This is my Grandmère, Lily Gavin. Lily this is..."
"Adonis, I believe," The pretty eyes crinkled up as the blond handsome man blushed and took her hand.
"No, that'd be me Darlin, Buck Wilmington, at your service!" the rogue offered, then narrowed his eyes as the elderly woman appeared to be checking out his hindquarters.
"Uhmmm," Lily thought aloud, getting a gentle nudge from her granddaughter.
"Stop that!" Sara whispered in a laugh.
"Would you do the honor of joining me for dinner?" Buck asked formally, with his arm.
"Just dinner?" Lily replied, raising a bold eyebrow that gave Buck a belly laugh. He didn't miss her eyes checking him out again.
"Lily, you and me are gonna get along fine!"
Dinner was great and the conversation was light and humorous. Buck and Chris both stood up as Lily and Sara left to go to the Ladie's room.
"Now that is a woman!" Buck assessed, ordering a stinger from the waitress. "You can see where Sara gets her spunk..."
"You don't know that half of it," Chris sipped his coffee and smiled, "Lily went to Paris alone when she was eighteen to study art. She made her living sketching male nudes...and raised hell all over France."
"Damn!" Buck admired
"That about covers it," he paused watching the two making their way back. "She raised Sara after her mother died, she's crazy about her."
They stood up as the woman reappeared and Buck saw the elderly woman's eyes rake over his backside again. "She's checking out my ass!" he whispered to Chris who smiled wide and winked. The blond leaned over and replied.
"You can run, but you can't hide...S-s-s-t-t-u-d!"
Before they got the chance to sit down, the band began to play a song. Not just any song, a melody that was special to the new lovers. Chris's eye caught Sara's and he felt her warmth fill him.
"I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight.
I've never seen you shine so bright.
I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance.
They're looking for a little romance
Given half a chance
And I've never seen that dress you're wearing, or that highlights in your hair
That catch your eyes
I have been blind..."
He smiled at Sara with such ardor it took her breath away. His whole face lit up and his eyes were shining with a special glow. Then he walked past her, grasping her hand tenderly and kissing it once, while stroking her cheek. He then reached his hand to the silver-haired force.
"Lily, may I have the pleasure?"
"...there's nobody here, it's just you and me.
It's where I wanna be...
but I hardly know this beauty by my side...
I'll never forget the way you look tonight.
I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight,
I've never seen you shine so bright you were amazing..."
With every beautiful lyric that filled the air, Lily Gavin lost a little more of her heart. She felt an ease in the strong arms like she hadn't in years. The hand on her back went right through her and seemed to hold her heart. She looked up and saw his face then, and followed his gaze to Sara. She saw the tears in her beloved granddaughter's eyes and at that moment, she knew her prayers were answered. She nodded to Sara, who made her way to the dance floor, with Buck in tow. She paused and took the girl's hand, placing in the noble one's.
"You take this, Child," her voice cracked, her eyes full of unshed tears, "...and you hold on for all it's worth."
"Thank you, Lily," Chris whispered, kissing the elderly woman's cheek, having felt the impact of her statement.
"No, Son," she turned and took the handsome face in both tiny hands, "Thank you, Christopher Larabee...you woke up this heart of mine...I haven't felt something so strong in..." She couldn't continue, her emotions were overflowing. "Cherish her..." she whispered.
"Now and forever," Sara answered, falling in Chris's arms.
"Come on Darlin, let's you and me get better acquainted." Buck took the old woman's arm and led her back to the table. He saw the silver head turn, raking those pretty eyes on his backside. "You gotta cut that out, Lily. What'll folks think?" He hissed, then yelped as a small hand brushed against his backside. "Hey!" he protested and saw her grin evilly.
"I live here," she quipped, "I want them to think that!" She waited for him to push her chair in and took his hand. "Don't get any ideas, I'm not the marrying kind...Living in sin suits me just fine!" She watched the laughter start and lowered her voice. "Stud!"
Buck laughed then, hard and deep. He couldn't help himself, there was something about this spunky old woman that made you smile. He saw Sara and Chris on the dance floor as the final words of the song died away. Chris sang the last line, stroking her face and then kissing her. Buck almost felt embarrassed, seeing such an intimate gaze they shared.
"I never will forget the way you look tonight...
The lady in red ...
My lady in red...
I love you."
"Good for you, Pard!" he whispered, raising his glass. "You deserve the best."
They paused in Bourbon Street, having completed a fine meal and now were eager to paint the town. Vin headed for a nearby establishment that had rock music blasting from the door. He paused, seeing Chris staring a pole on the corner. Frowning, he ambled over and waited, not sure of the wistful look the blond wore. Then the slim hips encase in black cloth moved forward, almost walking in a trance. Vin following, slipping into a chair at table by the door. He signaled the waitress for two beers and picked up a handful of pretzels. He had just swallowed his second mouthful, when the quiet man spoke.
"I met Sara here..."
"Yer kiddin'?" Vin eyed the scantily clad waitresses and frowned.
"No," Chris laughed, taking his beer and sipping it, "Not in here...out there...right by that sign." He nodded at the pole he'd been staring at earlier. " Buck deserted me for a questionable pair of costumed women. It was during Mardi Gras."
"Questionable?" Vin grinned, mentally seeing the flamboyant Wilmington arm in arm with a bevvy of decorated ladies.
"One of 'em was a woman," Chris recalled of the semi-nude partier, "The other, I wasn't so sure about. Buck never said...course he was drunk... Anyhow, I walked outside and there she was... She was across the street. It was like the crowd melted and the noise was gone. I never felt anything like it, Vin. I saw her and my whole world exploded, like a fuckin' Super Nova. Then, she was in my arms and kissing me..." he grinned and chuckled, "Left bank style..."
"How Left Bank?" the Texan asked, enjoying the nostaglic light in the green eyes.
"Right down to the bottom of the Seine," The blond laughed, recalling the French memory. "Squeezed my ass, too, with both hands!"
"Damn!" Vin laughed, watching Chris relax finally. Something told him Chris needed this trip as much as he did. To chase old ghosts away and embrace the nostalgic afterglow of misted memories.
"I know it's sounds corny, but..." he paused, leaning forward, eyes shining with warm recollection. "It was love at first sight. I knew, holding her there in that spot and kissing her back...I knew...I'd marry her. It was like holding the Sun, Vin and dancing in a rainbow." He stared at his hands and closed his eyes, sighing heavily.
Vin watched the strong play of emotions move around the handsome blond's face. He smiled, lifted his beer and took a cautious sip. Wiping the foam away, he waited until Chris was looking at him. He caught the green eyes, smiled deeply and held his glass up.
"Seems t'me...Sara was pretty lucky too.".
"Thanks, Vin," Chris tapped the glass and tossed a crooked grin to his best friend. "Drink up, Tanner. We're headin' to Pat O'Brien's and I'm buyin' you a hurricane."
"Lead on!" Vin drained his beer, belched and followed the leader.
It was a crowded establishment, but Vin felt at home. It had the atmosphere of a neighborhood bar and they found a small table in the back. The Texan's blue eyes roamed over the hundred's of beer steins on the walls. There were champagne bottles for lamps and the mirrored bar was garnished with ornate ironwork. A waitress appeared and Chris ordered two hurricane's, the speciality of the house. A jukebox was playing music by the Fabulous Thunderbirds and there were some patrons dancing and swaggering in the throng of humanity.
Chris saw the slow smile form on his friend's face and found's it twin already in place. This is what he'd waited for, to see the younger man relax and live it up. They took the tall glasses full of a heady, rum based red concoction. The large, extremely potent drinks were served in a lamp sized glass.
"Let the good times roll!" Vin hooted at the top of his lungs, clinking the glass.
Chris just smiled, sipped cautiously and laughed at the resounding war call from Tanner's lips. The blond was going to take it easy tonight, to ensure Vin Tanner had the time of this life. His cell phone rang and he frowned, taking it from his breast pocket.
"Aw, hell...why'd ya bring that fuckin' thing?" Vin hollered over the noise.
"What?" Chris shouted, clapping a hand to his free ear. "Josiah?"
The smile faded and the blue eyes grew wide with alarm. Vin immediately thought of the preacher calling from an ER. Was one of the team down?
"Chris..." he tugged at the burgundy shirt. "Is everybody..." He saw the blond head nod and relaxed, taking a large sip of the strong drink. "Damn..." he mumbled and licked his lip.
"I'll have to call you back... thirty minutes or so... okay." He replaced the phone and leaned in so Vin would hear him over the loudness. "I gotta go back to the room, Josiah needs my notes on the Packer case. I can hit my files through the laptop and email them. You gonna be okay?"
"Like a giddy pig in a pile o'mud!" the blue-eyed man crowed. "Ya gonna be long?"
"Nah, I'll be back in less than an hour. You stay put and go easy on them... they're strong!"
"I ain't a rookie!"
Twenty minutes later, two females on vacation ordered hurricanes at the bar. One let her gaze roam around the room and quickly zoomed in. She elbowed her friend and nodded, her lips forming a grin.
"Do you see what I see?"
"Where?"
"Where?" Becky exasperated, pointing. "There! How can you miss that smile and those eyes...My God I could drown in them. Somebody that fine shouldn't be sitting all alone. He needs a...a..."
"Welcoming commitee?"
"Now you're talking!" Becky triumphed, moving towards the lean, tanned male with long brown hair. "Hi!" She said, with a winning smile, nodding to the empty spot on the booth next to him.
"Evenin' Ladies," Vin nodded and moved a little.
"I'm Becky," She whispered close to his ear, moving in as her friend flanked him on the other side, creating a tasty Texan sandwich, all prime. "You alone, Handsome?"
"Not no more," Vin crowed, fueled the now drained Hurricane. Chris's nearly full glass was now in the process of being emptied as well. His fingers slid around her waist and he took a draw from the bright red liquid. "I'm Vin..."
His conversation with Josiah took longer than he planned. He arrived back at Pat O'Brien's and his eyes scanned the packed room. Then he saw his best friend, nestled between two women and kissing one with Texas ardor. He dropped his head, scrubbed a hand across it and laughed. He pulled his camera out and taped a few minutes, zooming in on Vin's lip action. Getting a lite beer from the bar, he ambled over. He spotted several large, empty hurricane glasses and winced. The boy would be hurtin' like hell come morning. But tonight, that stupid grin plastered on his face was worth savoring.
"Hi handsome!"
Chris nodded to the pretty brunette and raised an eyebrow. Vin was disheveled, his shirt was unbuttoned and out of his pants. Then the bemused blond leader saw the Texan's neck and laughed, sliding to the empty seat next to him, made available when one of the visitors moved.
"Hey Cowboy!" Vin slurred, eye half-mast eyes lighting up, "...me and the girls is gettin' 'quainted. They's r-e-e-a-a-a-l friendly," he emphasized with swagger.
"I can see that," Chris laughed, eyeing the lipstick smudges and the telltale bruising on the younger man's neck. "You've been a naughty boy!" he teased, taking a swig of his beer.
"Heh...heh...heh..." Vin laughed evilly, raising his eyebrows in devilish delight.
"I thought I told you to take it easy with them!" the blond inquired over the roar in the room, nodding to the empty glasses.
"I done just that," the inebriated body agreed, "that's just how they went down...r-e-e-e-a-a-l easy!"
Chris laughed outloud and moved to let the women out. They excused themselves heading for the bathroom.
"Hey Chris," the blue-eyed wonder inquired, trying to nudge the burgundy shirt and hitting the table. "Ya been around awhile..."
"Thanks Vin," he deadpanned, shaking his amused face, "Me and Noah played backfield together in college..."
"No...ah..?" Vin's face wrinkled up, "No...ah...who?"
"Nevermind."
"How...how...ca...ca...come...girls always hit the head in a pack. They don't never g--g-g-go in there alone." his blue eyes narrowed and tried to stay focused on the bathroom door. "Why... why... they do that.... Chris?"
"Strength in numbers," the blond guessed, "they strategize in there... figure out the plan."
"Plan?" the sharpshooter hiccuped.
"Yeah, that's why women will always be one step ahead, they got a plan."
"Oh," Vin slumped, not satisified. Then the girls bounced back to the table, moving in time to "Celebrate!" which was booming on the sound system.
"Come on Tex," one said, snagging Vin's wrist. "They're playin' our song!"
Chris shook his head in wonder and awe as Vin was led to a small opening on the floor. He took the camera out again, taping the cavorting trio.
"Take notes, Buck!" He spoke into the hidden mic, "The boy's giving you a run for your title!"
Good thing they were with him, his legs weren't moving steadily. One got him from behind, gyrating close to his back end, both hands hooked into his beltloops on the front of his jeans. The other pressed in from the front, looping her arms around his neck and grinding to the music. Chris watched with sloppy grin as they took the 'Vinwich' for a ride. He laughed aloud when he heard Vin's war whoop from the floor and one Tanner fist boldly appeared in the air.
"Ride 'em Cowboy!" he saluted with his beer.
"b.b.b.b.ad... t'...t'...t'the... b..b...one...I'm b..a...a...d... t'...t'...t' bone...."
"Shh!" Chris ordered the warbling drunk, doing a very poor imitation of the George Thoroughgood classic. It was nearly three a.m. and the older man was trying to support the other. One hand went around Vin's waist, locking onto a beltloop. The other held the barely conscious man's arm securly around his neck. "Jesus, you're not the lightweight everybody thinks you are... it's all them layers of clothes you wear." He grunted, setting Vin down on the setee in the hall, while he got the key out.
"...risssss..."
"Shh!" he hissed, eyeing the slits where eyes should be. He saw Vin grimace and squirm, shifting his butt around. "What's the matter?"
"...the boys is all fired up..." Vin screwed his face up and tugged on his pants. "...been awhile... since... since... they been s'busy... reckon... can't settle 'em down." he paused, hiccuped and glared through two bleary blues at the other man, who was laughing hard, unable to breathe. "...the hells s'funny?"
"You are, Stud..." Chris wiped his damp eyes. "You do have a way with words, Vin Tanner." He unlocked the door at last. "Come on... we're home."
"...the hell are we?" Vin slurred, eyeing the dark, strange room. "...s'not m'house... s'not yers... rissss..."
"Hotel..."
"Oh...'kay..." he decided, crawling on his hands and knees through the door. "Whoa!" he slurred, feeling a strong set of arms hauling him upright. "...risss... somebody's in here... bugger's got m'collar..."
"I got him, Vin." the other chuckled.
'Thanks, Pard," Vin relaxed, letting the arms push him onto the bed. "...al...ways... watchin' m'back..." He felt his shoes come off and his shirt. A voice told him to stand and he tried, then launched himself and was caught. "Hey... hey... C...ri..s...."
"Yeah Vin?" Larabee grunted, skillfully getting the timeworn jeans off, with one tug, while supporting the drunken Texan with the other.
"I need... need... uh-oh..."
"Shit!" Chris hissed, trying to manage the wobbly tangle of Tanner limbs. "You gonna throw up?"
"Should I?" Vin wondered of his raging battle in the gut.
"No!" Chris ordered, shoving the body throught the bathroom door. He held onto Vin from behind and waited. "Well?" he stared at the weaving body in the mirror. Vin's blue slits opened a bit wider and a dopey, sloppy, saliva coated grin formed.
"Hey... Cowboy..." Vin issued through a wet hiccup, grinning with giddy abandon. "Ya okay?"
"I'm fine, Vin." He waited, "Well, you gonna get sick?"
"Should I?"
"Nevermind," Chris moved the weaving body to the bed, pulled the cover back and Vin fell forward. "What the hell?" the blond turned the bedside lamp on and laughed. He laughed long and hard, until tears formed. He got his small pocket camera, took one shot, before getting the video off his black pouch on his waist. He took a wide shot, then zoomed in on the clock, before turning the lens to the exposed flesh over the waist of Vin's briefs.
"Eat your heart out, Buck!" he chuckled of the phone number that disappeared under the cloth covering Vin's right cheek.
"...cklin... here?" Vin muffled, raising his heavy head.
"No, Vin."
The fuzzy blue eyes went around the room, before scowling. Unaware the photographer moved, catching his bleary-eyed apprearance, the warbling Romeo continued. "...ere's the girls..." he recalled being with them and Chris mentioning Buck...talking to Buck? "...dam...mit... Bu...ck... give... me... m'girls... back... find yer...own..." He issued angrily, sliding off the bed onto the floor. "...uh..oh..."
"Say Goodnight Gracie!" Chris laughed, zooming in on the muddled blue-eyed face.
"Who?" Vin's nose wrinkled. "Ya got another girl?" he tried to look around Chris's legs. "She a looker? Damn Lara...bee... can't see 'er..."
Chris put the camera away, hauled the now greening Texan to his feet and deposited him over the toilet. Once he was finished and cleaned up, he manuevered him back to his bed and shoved him under the quilt. He was back in his own room, just about to fall asleep.
"...Ch..ri...s..sssss..."
"Shit!" He sighed, raking a hand over his face. "Go to sleep Vin!"
Several minutes went by, then the sad voice came through the dual opened bathroom door that connected their rooms.
"...ri...ri...ssssss..."
"Dammit Vin! It's late!" He shouted back, his head beginning to pound. "Go to sleep!"
Even drunk, the younger man, through his fog, recognized that his friend was angry.
"...m'sorry... Chris... just... wanted... t'thank ya... watchin' m'back..."
"Damn!" Chris whispered, feeling wounded and jogging into the other room. Vin was sitting up, trying to get the glass of water Chris left on the bedside. He steadied the glass until it reached the parched Texan's lips.
"Thanks..." Vin sighed, eyeing the bare feet on the blue rug. "...I'm drunk, ain't I?"
"Yup," Chris poured a second glass and waited. The blue eyes closed and tried to open, the slim body swayed on the bed.
"Sorry..."
"That's okay Vin..." he said quietly, pushing the shoulder gently and easing the body back onto the bed.
"I had me a goooood time, Cow...boy..." Vin sighed, yawned and burped. One eye peeled open and through his haze, recognized the warm smile peering back at him. "Thanks, Chris... ya done... this fer me?" He knew, somehow, the other man's sober state was planned.
"For us, Vin. I had a good time, too. Now close what's left of them blue eyes, will you?"
"...m'okay... ya ain't gotta ride herd on me..."
"I know." Chris replied, but he sat by the bed for a little while, watching Vin sleep. What he felt most, what made him feel good inside, was the absolute look of relaxation on the other man's face. He was totally at ease, at peace. Chris knew that total trust on the soft features was because of him... and that... that felt damn good. He kept that feeling long after he climbed in his own bed.
It was a beautiful day and Chris had breakfast on the patio outside his room. He'd already finished the morning paper and picked up his phone. He stetched back in the comfortable chair, eyeing the beautiful flowers below in the garden.
"Wilmingon, ATF."
"Hey Buck-o, how goes it?"
"Slow." Buck sat up and turned his radio down. "How's life in the Big Easy? You get stuck, you can use my name. I'm a legend down there..."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Chris grinned, "I need you to email me the ingredients of the cure. I think I got most of them."
"Vin got tanked?"
"Oh, he went way beyond that!" Chris bragged. "...and I got pictures to prove it. I downloaded a video clip, check your email..."
Curious, the tall agent stood and waved to Nathan and Ezra, who were the only one's in the office. They gathered around the monitor as the images appeared.
Chris heard them laughing and smiled, his face peering through designer sunglasses into the still darkened room where Vin slept, unaware of his 'debut'.
"Jealous?" Chris asked, when Buck's wheezing slowed to the point where he could speak.
"Hell, I didn't think that boy was listenin' to them tips and pearls of wisdom...with the right training, he might shape up..." Buck mused, then laughed again, as Nate replayed the shot of the numbers on Vin's skin. "He know there's a phone number tatooed to his sorry ass?"
"Not yet..." Chris smiled. "How did the meeting go?" Buck put Ezra on, he'd attended the conference with Josiah, Orrin and the agents from the DEA. After the update, he gave some instructions and bid them farewell. He was finishing some notes to send Sanchez, when a body stumbled outside. "Nice roadmaps," he noted of the red lined blue eye, barely open. "Shame you didn't bring a turtleneck with you." Vin fingered his bruised neck, grunted and sat down, curling his body forward and rocking. Chris stood up and disappeared, then called to the younger man. Wordlessly, Vin entered the bathroom and took the cup. He nodded once as Chris squeezed his bare shoulder in a sympathetic show of support. He stayed outside during the retching, cursing and groaning. Then the body staggered past him, picked up the carafe of orange juice and drained it.
"...takin' a shower..." Vin croaked, shuffling back inside.
"Hey, Vin." Chris grinned, "You better scrub your ass real good."
"What?" Vin pondered behind the closed door.
Several seconds went by, before the voice sounded. Chris sat up in his chair and turned his head towards the door.
"Hey Chris...I need a favor..."
"No!" The blond said firmly and turned back to his paper. "I ain't reading your ass, Tanner. You're on your own.
"Fine thing... man asks his best friend fer a little favor..." Vin waited, but no footsteps were heard. "I can't tell iffen one of them number's is a four, a nine 'r a seven.... it's hard readin' backwards in the mirror... Chris?"
"Not for all the money in that excuse for a bank account you have." Larabee denied, going back to his crossword puzzle. "Just one of those mysteries of life..." he sighed, then laughed at the string of curses, English, Native American and Spanish that flew out the door. "Spoken like a true Tanner."
Page 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28
Return to Deirdre's Fic Archive | Return to Lady Angel's Library
