Setting: ATF Universe
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.
Light filtered through his slit lids, awakening his headache. The slamming pain only increased when his eyes opened. He groaned and fumbled, trying to free his hand from under the mummy-like blanket wrappings.
"Easy Boss..."
Josiah. He relaxed as his hand found the button and he pushed. That action brought his aching body forward, until he was upright. Then he summed up his courage and opened his eyes slowly. The large graying head appeared through a blurry veil, the smokey eyes were regarding him cautiously. He turned his head, widening and narrowing his eyes until the room became clear. He took a long gaze around, cringing as Ezra waved to him from the next bed.
"Who the hell left him in?" he croaked, turning back to where Sanchez's deep laugh rumbled.
"Be nice to Ezra," Josiah warned, leaning over the bedrail, "He's keepin' that bed warm until Vin's fit enough to get here."
"Vin!" Chris croaked, wincing over a dry throat. His eyes drilled in to the older man's, prompting him to speak.
"He's out of recovery, they just took him to ICU. His leg was a mess, he's gonna be in a cast for six weeks or so and need rehab. They're giving him blood, they need to keep him in ICU for about twelve hours, but he'll be right next to you by nightfall. He's weak and he's got some congestion in his lungs, but he'll be limping around the office, driving us crazy in no time." He smiled at the deep sigh that left Larabee's bruised lungs. The painful injury would hamper their leader, but he news of his best friend's recovery was the best medicine.
"We get that bastard?" Larabee inquired and saw Josiah nodding.
"He's dead."
"Good..." Chris groaned, sinking back into the pillow. "The bar open?" he croaked, desperately needing a drink.
"Hold on, Boss..." Josiah replied, filling a cup with ice water. Chris downed two before he was sated.
"Nectar of the Gods..." the blond sighed, lifting the cup to be filled again. He noticed how large the cup was and frowned. "What's with the big cup?"
"You need to drink alot of water, on account of the blood you gave Vin. They're gonna give you some iron pills and that IV for volume," Josiah nodded to the line running in Larabee's arm. "You;re gonna be weak for awhile, you'll need to rest. You need to eat..." he waited and saw the matted head nod once. "Good....I'll tell the nurse."
"Wait!" Chris called out as Josiah reached the door. Something was wrong, he rummaged through the foggy, cobwebs in the pounding head on his shoulders and grimaced. Then his green eyes grew wide and sought the preachers. "Buck! J.D.!"
Josiah started to answer, but the toilet flushing interrupted him.
"That would be the younger half of the dynamic duo...his nervous energy is testing the water line." Ezra imparted as J.D.'s dark head appeared.
"Chris!" He bounded over to the bed, "Hey you're awake. Can I get you something? You want some more water? You need a pillow? They brought your breakfast but you weren't up, so I told them to take it away. But they said you could get another one..."
"Put a sock in it!" Chris hissed, putting both hands to silence the verbal parade. "Christ, Kid my head's fallin' off now!"
"Sorry!" J.D. winced.
"Buck?" Larabee's eyes lifted to Josiah's again.
"He's keepin' Vin company," Sanchez edged, "He'll be up here later." He paused and saw the curious light in the green eyes bearing down on him. "He needs this, Chris. He's been haunted since Nardone got away last time. He wants to tell Vin...finally give him the right answer. Nathan's with him. He should be in bed resting but, he's posted himself by Vin's bed...he won't budge."
"He took the mother fucker out?" Chris rasped, reaching for the water J.D. offered.
"He beat the snot out of him!" the youth enthused, spilling some ice water on Chris and wincing as the green eyes nearly burned a hole in him. "Sorry! I'll wipe it up..."
"Don't touch me!" Chris snarled, "Calm down will you? Jesus, you're jumpier than a frog in mating season."
"Good Lord!" Ezra groaned, hearing Vin's words from his boss's mouth. "You've been hanging around our illustrious sharpshooter too long..."
"It was like a movie..." J.D. gushed of Buck's heroic actions, "Dark, stormy, icy pelting down on the two of them. Both of them bleeding and wounded, trading punches. Nardone started talking nasty about Vin, but Buck didn't let it get to him. He turned the tables, made Nardone lose his cool. Then Nardone jumped him...Buck got that knife and split him up the middle, like gutting a fish."
"Thanks for the visual," Ezra grimaced as his breakfast threatened to reappear.
"He was awesome!" Dunne continued, eyes shining, "Every time he got stabbed, he kept coming back..."
"Every time?" Chris interrupted, turning back to the voice of reason, still holding the door open. "How bad?"
"Oh, he's looking real pretty," Sanchez grinned, then reassured the concern looking at him. "He's okay, Chris. Nothing a little R and R won't cure. Busted his collarbone, got slashed in the leg and side, his face...well...he'd scare the reflection right out of the mirror. But he's proud as hell..." He saw the blond head nod and a small smile play on the handsome face. He ducked out to get the nurse and order Chris's breakfast.
"Hey, wait until I tell you about how I got Buck and the body down the mountain in an ice storm!" J.D. gushed, drawing a chair up.
"Tempted as I might be," Ezra winced, grabbed the rail for support and gingerly eased his tender, stitched body into a flannel robe. He was already in slippers and stood on unsteady legs. "I feel the desire to walk off my breakfast..."
"Get your yellow ass back here, Standish!" Chris growled as the smirking southerner, tipped two fingers along the side of his head, grinned like a chesire cat and headed for the door. "Coward..." Chris called after the disappearing body. He rested his head again, covering his eyes with his hand as J.D.'s burst of jangled phrases and descriptive sentences hit him like bullets.
"It could be hours, Buck," Nathan tried again, standing behind the injured agent. It hurt to look at Wilmington. His left arm was in a sling, fresh stitches were holding the wounds in his thigh and side together. His face...he winced at the swollen, hamburger like flesh. One eye was swollen shut, the cheekbone, cheek and jaw were purple and swollen. The lip was stitched too, puffy and insolent. Yes, it hurt to look at Buck, until you saw the pride in the eye that was visible. Pride and a lot more. His good hand held Vin's limp, cold one. His marred face never left the pale one of the unconscious body in the bed. He didn't notice the many IV lines feeding into Tanner, or the apparatus holding his leg in place. He never gave an indication that he even heard his words. He just stared, held that hand and waited for those blue eyes to open. Nathan sighed, gave Buck's shoulder a squeeze and turned as the door curtain parted in the ICU cubicle and Orrin appeared.
"Good Morning, Orrin," he said, standing by the entry to the well staffed area.
"I spoke with the head nurse," The judge replied, "She told me Vin's doing well and they don't expect any complications. Why isn't Buck in his own bed?"
"'cause he's Buck..." Nathan chuckled, "He won't leave until he talks to Vin...it's been coming a long time. He needs closure."
"To put away the demons once and for all?" The older man guessed.
"You know?" Jackson saw the wise eyes trained on the hero by the bed.
"I do," he nodded, "I've been there...many times. I'm going up to see Chris, then I'm meeting Derek. He's devasted by finding Brielle..."
"She's alive..." Nate said of the zombie-like young woman they found among those gathered up.
"She's non-responsive...they're not sure what drugs Nardone used on her. She might never leave that catatonic state." He appraised, "The others are being detained by the F.B.I., some of them have criminal records, some are runaways. Josiah's guess was correct. When Derek's secretary handed over the running of the estate to Christina Gates, she drew up the contract for the renovations. That gave Nardone's crew months to set up that...that...hell hole. It turns out that the orignal architect, a man named Carson, was brilliant but tortured. He discovered the caves and tunnels when Mannington Hawke hired him to survey the land. He built that elaborate underground cavern and used it for human sacrifices. He got away with it for years...he lived in a cottage on Hawke's property. After his death, his followers went to Mexico, where Nardone heard about him."
"...and when his wife was in that coma, he connected Vin...through vengeance and his rare blood type..."
"Yes," Orrin nodded, "..and he came damn close to killing him...too close..." He gave the other man a nod and headed for the bed. "Buck...Buck..." he tapped the shoulder and the face moved a little. "You should be resting, Son."
"Plenty of time for that later." Buck whispered, "He needs..." he faltered, eyes going back to the slack Tanner features, the youth shining through in the relaxed stance. "...I don't want him waking up here...alone..."
"I heard what you did," the older man gave a small tug on the blue sweatshirt Wilmington wore, "You wear that badge well..."
"Thanks," Buck sighed, his eyes glued to Vin's face, "must be the company I keep..."
"I'm going up to see Chris," the other advised, "You get some rest..."
"Yeah..." Buck's voice was distracted. Finally they were alone. At intervals, he closed his eyes, the headache would flare up and his arm hurt like a bitch. If one more well intended nurse asked him why he wasn't in his room...if Nathan started picking on him again...if...
"Yer hurt..."
The soft voice caused his heart to clench. The light tap on his hand brought his eyes open. Two pain-clouded blue eyes looked at him with concern and emotion. He found a smile, a genuine, life-loving grin. The first he'd enjoyed in some time. He took the limp hand and held on tight.
"Aw, hell, Slick," his voice wavered and he swallowed hard, "You know the ladies love battle scars..."
"Yer hurt..." Vin repeated, worried about the paleness he saw despite the savage bruised face. His eyes flitted to the sling and then back to the concern face hovering over him.
"I'm okay, Vin," he reassured, "Hell, I got at least a month's worth of paperwork backed up...desk duty ain't so bad." The eyes closed for a minute and a slip of pink tongue emerged, lingering on dry lips. "Aw, hell...I'm sorry. You want some ice chips...here...easy now...I gotcha..." He pushed the button, bringing the bed up until Vin could swallow the offering on the spoon. It was three doses later, when the eyes opened again.
"Thanks..." Vin nodded, eyes roaming over the familiar room. His mind drifted back in time, to another morning when he woke up. After lingering in a coma for how long? It was a blond head and green concerned eyes then that welcomed him back. He sighed and tried to remember what happened. As his eyes caught the broken leg, fresh from surgery, his foggy brain brought up images of a slick road and a motorcycle.
"...bike okay?" he whispered, confused at why he felt so very weak. He saw Buck's face fill with alarm. Buck was hurt too...Buck wasn't near the bike. What happened?
"Your bike's fine." Buck answered, giving Vin more ice. "What do you remember, Vin?"
"Uh...bike slidin' on the road...uh...uh.." Vin frowned and closed his eyes, then darker images appeared. Cloaked figures, chanting, candles, hands on his body, then the face of the devil himself...a dripping heart..."Shit!" his eyes flew open and his IV'd hand moved under the baggy gown. "...he was gonna...he said he was gonna eat...he wanted my heart...shit...he was gonna...God..."
"Take it easy," Buck stood up, hissing as his injured leg protested. He grabbed the errant hand and soothed the fright right out of the frantic eyes. "He's dead, Vin."
"Ya sure?" Vin wavered, ears still ringing with Nardone's threat.
"I was there...I took care of it..." he vowed. "He's downstairs in the morgue...he can't hurt you again." His voice broke then, as the words finally were able to spring forth. The many months of nightmares ended in the bloody confrontation on the mountain. But the emotive sky eyes trained on him and the soft voice that emerged through the parted parched lips, filled him with a warmth he'd been missing for some time.
"...ya kept yer word...ya promised...the last time I was here..." Vin swallowed hard and saw a winning Wilmington smile. "...that means something t'me..." he paused and took a healing breath, his heavy eyes began to close. He reached a wavering hand up, glad for the strength sent back in the one that grabbed it. "Thanks...Bucklin..."
"Your welcome, Vin..." Buck managed, his voice tight. "Get them baby blues closed now...I'll be here if you need me."
"...what else...is..new..." Vin sighed as he snuggled back and relaxed, easing into a deep sleep.
"Damn..." Chris wrinkled his nose and pushed his body back against the pillows in the semi-upright bed. "You mind moving back? That face of yours is painin' my eyes."
"How far?" the tall man inquired, keeping at the foot of the bed. It was almost midnight and the hospital was quiet. Not able to sleep, he'd eased his aching body from his own bed across the hall and limped over to join his oldest friend.
"Salt Lake City ought to do it..." the blond returned, watching the swollen lip turn up in a grin. "The Kid said you kicked ass..."
"The Kid talks too much..." Buck sighed, walking over to where Vin Tanner slept on the other bed in the room. "He wake up at all?"
"Not for long...drifts in and out...just coughs a lot...his lungs are a mess. The nurse said he'll be sleeping most of the next couple days." He paused as the other man adjusted the Texan's blankets and then crossed over to the window. The silver beam of moonlight showed an unusal forlorn Wilmington face.
"I lost it Chris," Buck finally said, in a small, quiet voice. His face remained trained on the street for awhile.
"His head still attached?" Larabee asked of Nardone. He saw the dark head bob once and snorted. "You're a better man than me..." Still the question mark remained on the handsome man's face. "He had a choice Buck. He could have surrendered when you warned him."
"You weren't there," Buck wheeled around, limping over to the bed. "How do you know I gave him that chance?"
"Twelve years..." Chris replied, then patted his gut, "a feeling in here and knowing that the J in your middle name stands for Justice, not James. I know you Buck, you'd never go dirty..."
"I couldn't hear...see...anything but red...I wanted to rip him apart...If J.D. wasn't there..."
"You'd have done the same thing...He made the choice, Buck, not you. He could have thrown down...he didn't. He attacked you. Hell, it's not like anybody's losin' salt over him." Larabee grumbled. It took several more minutes and a long sigh from the other man. He finally looked up and smiled a little. "You look like shit, Buck."
"Fuck you, Larabee!" the injured man laughed, gripping the hand offered, "Thanks..."
"It's why I get the big money," Chris smirked. "You getting out tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'm taking a couple days...I'll head back to the office on Monday."
"...head back t'yer own room...some of us is really ailin'..."
Chris and Buck exchanged a warm grin and both turned towards the other bed, where the weak, raspy voice rose in the dim night. A series of wet coughs erupted, ending with a tissue being tossed towards a trashcan, it didnt make it.
"Dammit Vin..." Chris hitched himself up painfully, leaning over the bedrail. "Keep them snotrags on your own side of the room. Some sharpshooter...you haven't hit the trashcan once." He eyed the dozen or so crumpled tissues on the floor.
"...old Goddamn...orny-assed...grump..." Vin whispered, clutching the railing as his chest throbbed. The coughing fit left him teary-eyed and weak.
"I heard that..." the blond retorted, snapping the side of the bedrail down and inching his way upright. After taking two shallow breaths and getting his balance, he walked through the phlegm-ridden mindfield and poured some water into the basin near the bedstand. He ran the washcloth around it and then handed it to Vin. He watched carefully as the shaky hand wiped the wheezing face, before dissolving into coughs again. "Shit..."
"...Go t'Hell....didn't ask...ragged ass...come over..." Vin wheezed, crumpling up another tissue and tossing it. His coughing changed to weak laughter, when the airborne wad landed in the middle of this best friend's forehead. "...s'an accident..." he protested lamely, watching as the nightlight over his bed displayed the Larabee lips fighting not to turn upwards.
"Accident my ass!" Chris retorted, lifting the mug of ice water so Vin could drink. He noticed that when Vin laid back, he was shivering. "Buck, see if there's another blanket in that closet..."
"...m'okay...Chris..." Vin chattered, but sighed when the additional warmth was provided.
"Yeah...I can see that," the sarcastic replay came. He spotted Vin's cannula lying around his neck and fixed it. "Keep this damn thing in...it can't help you if you don't breathe through it..."
"...don't like it..." Vin yawned, eyes already shut.
"Too damn bad, I can't keep coming over here. My ass is freezing and I got your snotrags sticking to my heel." Chris eyed the slumbering body and shook his head. "Thanks Buck..." he nodded, watching the one-armed man picking up the loose tissues. He was nearly back to his own bed, when the soft drawl floated over.
"...s'too damn tight..."
"You better be talking about the blankets, Tanner." The green eyes narrowed, one hand pulled at the short hospital gown and his smile was born as the shaggy head rose briefly, eyes half-mast, before wiggling in the bed and falling to sleep.
It was a splendid autumn afternoon, the crisp air and glorious colors of the fauna made for a wonderful backdrop to football and comaraderie. The eldest was in the kitchen stirring a pot of chili. The host was in a recliner, resting his healing ribs, while his team was lounging around the room, watching the Bronco's play on Chris's sixty-two inch television.
"Now that's a damn shame..." Buck took a beer from Ezra and nodded at Vin, who was lying on the couch, covered in a blanket, wheezing heavily through his mouth. The painkillers he took for the leg, left him lethargic and the chest congestion lingered. "I haven't seen them blue eyes open for hours. He's missing the game."
"He's made remarkable progess..." Ezra noted, "He seems to have rebounded quite well. Under the circumstances, I would have thought he'd be plagued by nightmares."
"He's had a few," Chris quipped, shifting painfully. Vin was staying with him, until the cumbersome cast and infected lungs healed a little more. "But not bad...Jesus, I'm starving...Josiah, what the hell is taking you so long."
"Genius can't be rushed..." the boomed voice answered.
"In that case, we should have eaten hours ago," Nate replied, tapping Vin on the forehead. The face scowled and the nose wrinkled, before one eye lifted. "Come on now...you won't sleep tonight and you haven't eaten all day. You know you won't feel stronger until you eat some more..."
"Game on yet?" Vin rasped, rubbing his tired eyes and letting Nate haul him to a sitting position.
"It's almost over," J.D. replied, bounding over to the couch. "Hey Vin...you got a present..."
"Yeah?" Vin perked up, eyeing the brown bag, with his name on it. "From who?"
"Ezra." Buck answered, "I saw him bring that in..."
"Aw, hell..." Vin's eyes lit up as he drew the cannister out."Chocolate whipped cream...hey, hey, that's great. Thanks Ez..."
"You're cheap, you know that?" Nate shook his head. "One damn can...could you spare the three bucks?"
"It's the thought that counts," Ezra defended, watching Vin twist the cap off.
"You could have gotten the boy some cake to go with it..." Buck sided with Jackson. "What's he gonna do with just the can?"
"Cool!' J.D. slid next to Vin and eyed the picture on the can. "Hey Vin...gimme a hit..." he held his fingers out and the other shook the can and sprayed a large dollop on them. He then tossed his head back and filled his mouth with chocolate cream.
"Nice Vin..." Chris shook his head.
"You know," Josiah stood in the doorway, "That's a damn shame. I remember a time when two friends could pass something that made you feel good...and it sure didn't come in a can..."
"Wouldn't know about that," Vin chirped, squirting more chocolate at J.D. "Reckon I wasn't born yet..."
"Shut up Vin!" Josiah called out, before returning to the kitchen.
So the afternoon passed and the dinner was done, dishes put away and cars left to journey back to the city.
"Ya know Chris...some toasted poundcake would be real nice with this chocolate whipped cream." Vin noted, casting a hopeful glance to the blond head immersed in the newspaper.
"It that a fact?"
"Yeah..."
"Any particular kind?" the blond tossed the paper and rose, heading for the back door. He let his hands linger on his leather jacket, feeling the blue eyes on his back.
"Nah..." Vin kept his eyes glued to the door. "Well...reckon chocolate chip would go down real easy."
"Well I 'reckon' if you drag that gimp leg of yours behind you, you can get to the store before it closes." Chris quipped, yawned, dropped Vin's pills and a large glass mug of water in front of the sleepy face and smiled evilly.
"Aw, hell..." Vin groused, slumping back on the couch, hearing J.D. laughing at him. Dunne lingered, helping Vin into his flannel pajamas and getting him setted in Chris's guest room. Chris had gone to bed already and the youngest was taking Vin to the movies the next day.
"I'll call you when I get home, give you a time," he noted, pulling his black leather jacket on and taking his keys out. "Then we'll hit that new burger place, I hear they got awesome food."
"Sounds good..." Vin yawned, "better give me that phone...I'll never get to the kitchen to get the wall phone."
"Here," J.D. handed Vin the cordless and waved goodbye.
Vin watched the fire dancing in the fireplace and shifted on the couch. His leg was throbbing and he rubbed it absentmindedly. The flickering flames had a hypnotic effect and he found his heavy eyes sliding shut.
It was dark and cold and he was unable to move. Pain slashed at him, as rats scurried across his bare chest. Hooded figures appeared, circling the table upon which he was bound. He fought against the bindings, his body buckling in vain. Then the tall man appeared, the dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. They were outside and the thunder rolled, sending rumbling through his head. The wind took his hair, whipping the strands around his face. The knife arched so fast, he didn't feel it at first. Then he saw the bloody fingers over his face and his heart dangling above his head.
"Of Mist and Moonlight shall you die...and I'll leave his blond head on ice so you can say goodbye."
"Nooooooo!!!"
Wool. His fingers moved over the surface. Wool rugs. The scent of burning logs and the warmth of the room caused him to breathe again. He was on the floor in front of the fire. It was late, very late. His heart was hammering so hard it hurt his chest. He rubbed the soft flannel and sighed, raking a shaking hand through his hair. It was so real...he felt his chest, needing reassurance. Then he saw the phone in his other hand and his fuzzy head wouldn't work. Try as he might, he couldn't move the mud from inside his brain. The words came back and his heart began to pound. One word formed inside the evil one's threat. One face caused him to move, crawling painfully towards the kitchen. His hand flipped the light on, his mind still thick with narcotics caused his heavy eyes to fight hard. His mouth was dry and his tongue was thick, stuck to the roof of his mouth. Then he saw it...blood stains on the floor in front of the refrigerator. He pulled himself upright and hopped over to the kitchen. He supported himself with his right hand, while the left one trembled violently as the fingers gripped the handle. Sweat rolled down his face and stuck to his body, leaving him feeling claustrophobic. Panting harshly, he slowly opened the door...just as a hand touched his back.
"Fuck!" Vin jumped, falling backward. Only the strong arms supporting him helped break his fall. Still he ended up on the floor, glaring up at his best friend's angry face. "Shit...ya damn near...scared me t'death...damn...shit...Jesus..." His whole body was trembling terrifically and his stomach was burning.
"Vin? What the hell are you doing in here? Do you know it's three a.m.? I bet they heard you screaming all the way in Denver." Chris waited and saw the eyes wide in fright. The hands were wrapped around the slight frame and the body began to rock. He bent over to assist the younger man off the floor, only to be repelled.
"Get away from me!" Vin rasped, face flushed with embarassment. "I'm fine...I...I...I'm sorry I woke ya...helluva a way t'say thanks. Somebody put ya up whilst yer healin'...ya wake 'im up every night screamin' like a kid...shit..."
"You done?" He saw the shaggy head nod once and brought a chair over. He waited while Vin used his upper body to haul himself up and not put pressure on his injured leg. He got a bottle of mineral water from the refrigerator and handed it to the shaken man.
"It was so real..." Vin finally said, taking a long swig and handing it to Chris. "His voice...blood dripping on m'face...m'heart hanging over m'head. Hell, the phone was still in m'hand. I thought..." Vin shook his head, taking another long drink. "Ya know them painkillers got me all fucked up, Chris...I'm sorry...I don't never mean t' get t'screamin'...maybe I should go...y'ell never get better if ya don't get some rest at night. It was so real," he repeated, eyes lingering on the blood stains.
"You want to talk about it?" Chris asked quietly, not pushing the envelope. Every night was the same, terrifying nightmares and coldsweats. Neither man got much sleep, and both looked it. But talking about it seemed to help the younger man.
"He...he...said...he left yer head on ice...so's I could say goodbye...I...couldn't tell...I seen the phone in m'hand...Jesus, Chris it was so real...I got out here and seen the blood..." He bit his lip and dropped his head. He felt a hand on his neck and a good squeeze.
"You can't lose me that easy, Cowboy," Chris added gently, leaving his hand on the tense neck for several minutes. "He's dead Vin, for good. I'm sorry about the blood. I put hamburger away after the others left. I never saw it..."
"S'okay..." Vin swallowed the last of his water.
"You ready to head back?" He asked, eyeing the clock on the wall.
"Yeah..." Vin stood up, then frowned, "I ain't got m'crutches..."
"You don't need them," Chris said, placing one Tanner arm over his shoulders, "You got me..."
Grunting and groaning he finally got the injured man and the heavy cast, settled into the guest room. He waited until Vin was settled in, but noticed the fear lingering.
"It's gonna take some time, Vin."
"Maybe I outta go, Chris," the other returned, without meeting the intense stare. "I mean...it ain't right. Yer not gettin' any rest..."
"You let me worry about that...and you're stayin' until that cast comes off."
He was at the door when the tired voice chased him.
"Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Ya best sleep light...all that water ya plied me with's gotta come out...some...time..."
"You hold your water like you hold your liquor?"
"Yup..."
"Damn..." Chris hissed, shuffling to his room.
"You know the damn shame about that," Buck nodded to the group of pretty nurses surrounding Vin Tanner, "He don't even try..."
"You're jealous!" J.D. smacked Wilmington's good arm.
"Of him?" Buck's voice rose in incredulation. "When pigs fly." He paused, eyeing the sly Texan across the lobby of the Rehabilitation Unit. "Okay, I'll give him the eyes and he's passable in a good light."
"You're all heart," Ezra quipped.
"The rest is all Hollywood," the rogue sent back, "That shit-eatin' Huckleberry Finn grin, all them 'yes Ma'ams' and that fuckin' blush..then there's the damn raspy drawl..."
"Jealous!" Nate and J.D. said at the same time, giving Buck cause to make a face at the smirking pair. "You two behave...we'll be back later." Buck came daily for rehabitation on his shoulder. Vin's leg was worse and required him staying.
Buck sat down and waited for his therapist to appear. An hour went by, Vin had been taken back, but Buck remained alone. Frowning, he ambled towards the doors where the Texan was led to. He cocked his well-tuned ears, when a group of feminine giggling caught his attention. He pushed the door open and his mouth dropped. There was the scrawny Tanner body, clad only a towel lying on a matted table surrounded by therapists.
"Bucklin?" Vin rasped weakly, rolling his head to the side. "Is that you? I can barely smell ya."
"Most likely 'cause your blood pressure is about to shoot through the top of your head, you emancipated Buddha!"
"The girls is givin' me a workout," Vin beamed.
"All five!" Buck roared, eyeing the pretty, scantily clad vixens pawning the sated sniper, "You couldn't spare one. I got to do rehab on my shoulder..."
"Sorry, Bucklin..." Vin sighed "I'm feelin' awful weak...somebody best check m'pulse..."
"I'd be faint too if I was naked with five pretty girls all over me." Buck retorted, eyes wide in stunned amazement.
"I ain't nekkid..." Vin protested through a bevy of shaply arms tending to him.
"Oh, excuse my ignorance," the rogue commented, "How could I miss that two foot scrap of towel coverin' your lack of assets..."
"That's the thanks I get fer thinkin' o'yer feelin's..." Vin pouted, as two shapely hands groomed his hair.
"My feelings!" Buck growled.
"Didn't want ya gettin' jealous..." Vin wagged his brows suggestively.
"Oh...oh..." Buck razzed sarcastically, "It would take plastic surgery...lots of plastic surgery to qualify you as a 'Wilmington wannabee."
"Size ain't everythin'..." Vin chirped, "It's what ya do with what ya got that matters..."
"You keep this up and them southern boys of yours will be fried, died and set to the side." Wilmington rebuffed. He watched as a pretty brunette popped a grape in Vin's mouth, he licked her fingers and winked up at her. "She's makin' sure I ain't dehydratin'...keepin' track o'm'blood sugar..."
A full-figured blond moved in, her deft fingers massaging the shoulders and gently rolling him to the side to massage his back.
"...seein' t' my physical needs..." Vin groaned. "...loosenin' up m'stiff muscles and such..."
"I'll bet!" Buck snorted, face flushing.
A beautiful, tall redhead moved in, turning the gasping Texan on his back and rubbing his chest. Vin's head popped up, meeting Buck's gapped mouth face through the amble wares of the therapist.
"...She's in charge o' chest capacity...keepin' me limber and such..."
"I can see that!" Buck growled as a pretty oriental girl bent over him, using her lips to hum against his forehead, cheeks and neck. The humming sound and vibration gave the sharpshooter a deep groan and his friend a louder one.
"...somethin' new from the Orient...causes a deep penetratin' technique...ain't...that...right...Angel..." Vin groaned and the pretty girl nodded, humming against the offered neck.
"Vin Tanner, you got no shame!" Buck challenged, then noticed a beautiful cocoa-skinned woman in the corner, smiling coyly at him. "Well, now, you look lonely Darlin'..." he cooed, moving to join her.
"Sorry...Bucklin..." Vin managed to move his head through the many arms near him. "She's on duty..."
"Duty!" Buck vented, sputtering in frustration as the tall, woman glided past him toward the weak body on the mat.
"Yeah..." Vin grinned, cocking a single eyebrow boldy.
"Oh, I know I'm gonna be sorry I asked..." He commiserated, "What's her specialty?"
"CPR!" Vin proclaimed, settling back under the army of hands
"Come again?" Buck cocked his head.
"'case I pass out or such...ya know...I could stop breathin'"
"Now that would be a real tragedy," the dark-headed agent muttered.
"She's a Lip Studies Technical Specialist...." Vin quipped proudly as the pretty woman demonstrated her technique.
"Jesus!" Buck stammered, eyeing the long, lingering kiss. Just then, bells went off, causing a flurry of activity. The bodies swarmed protectively around the small man, who was groggy and weak from his 'lip study'
"What the hell is that!" Buck asked over the noise.
"Best ya get outta the way, Bucklin," Vin advised, "I need plenty of swing room..."
"What for?"
"I gotta go...it's time fer m' Intermuscular hydrotherapy treatment."
"Huh?" Buck blinked, mouth agape, eyes drooling.
"Ya okay?" Vin fought hard not to laugh, "yer gonna catch a fly, shut yer trap. It's m'bathtime..." he proclaimed, lifting his arms. "Okay Girls, everybody grab a wing..." he sighed as they hauled him up and lifted him towards the wheelchair. "Somebody get m'caboose...I'm feelin' awful woozy..."
"Wh...wh..." Buck stammered as the beauties moved past him, each taking a Tanner limb.
"I got your caboose, Vin..." one purred, hand sliding across the lean backside under the towel.
"I got your towels..." another said, lifting a pile of soft, fluffy towels.
"Best ya heat up Sugar," Vin advised, "I don't want t'catch a chill whilst yer dryin' me off..."
"Drying you off!" Buck roared, as the back door to the room opened and the giggling group disappeared. "Goddammit Vin, get back here! Vin!" He waited a few moments, sputtering, cursing and kicking the trashcan in the training room. Then his curiousity got the better of him and he followed. He crept up to the door, his eyes wide as the sounds emerged. Sighing, moaning, groaning and grunting, then a familiar Texan's twang gave him a blush.
"Ugh...ugh...that's good...Jesus...higher...up m'thigh...I got...yeah...that's it...Damn ya got great hands...ya outta register them fingers...with... the...F.B.I..."
Buck paused, ears flaming red as Vin's panting increased.
"Whose teeth is that? God...I can't hold...back...I'm...I'm..."
Buck leaned in closer to hear and the door fell open, sending him into the room on his knees.
"What the hell?" he stammered, hearing the side-splitting, belly laughter of his teammates. They were sprawled around a large conference table, laden with pizza, sandwiches and sodas. Nate helped him up, wiping tears from his eyes. J.D. appeared, waving to a monitor on the wall.
"Aw shit!" Buck lamanted, recognizing the room he just left.
"Smile!" the youth chortled, slapping Buck's back, "You're on Tanner Camera!"
"Let's rewind and revisit the finest moments, shall we?" Ezra suggested, holding up the remote.
"No, let's not!" Buck made a grab for it.
"Stop..." Chris hollered, grinning like a fool, "That's our Buck...all Wilmington!" he nodded to the screen, toasting the image with a coke. Buck was stammering a nonsensical string of vowels, drooling as the five women sated the smug Texan.
"I agree," Ezra smiled at Buck's garbled grunts on the television. "Well spoken...eloquence personified."
They replayed the tape as they ate, teasing the blushing agent mercilessly. "Hold it there..." the blond dictated as Vin's smug face appeared, one eyebrow arched boldly.
""Size ain't everythin'..." Vin chirped, "It's what ya do with what ya got that matters..."
"That's my boy!" Larabee boasted, slapping his best friend's back. "Spoken like a true Tanner!"
"Just you wait, Tanner," Buck warned, "I ain't gonna forget this..."
"Visiting hours are over," Chris yawned, taking his long frame from the chair next to Vin's bed. The younger man would need extensive rehabilitation and would remain in the center for three weeks. "Let's head out...pizza okay?"
"Yeah..." Buck's voice was distracted. "I'll be right there. You go on to the elevator."
"What are you doing?" the blond frowned, watching Buck disappear into the bathroom. Vin was sound asleep and never stirred. A few minutes later, the tall man reappeared, bearing a pan of warm water. He slid it onto the bed, gingerly placing the left hand of the sleeping patient inside."
"Buck, that's mean!" Chris grinned, waiting for the instant response. Sure enough, as the relaxed face smiled in his sleep, the distinct scent of urine tinged the air. "I can't believe you did that!"
Buck waited until Vin was finished and took the pan away, throwing out the warm water. The two men grinned evilly at the silent peace on the face of the relaxed sharpshooter.
"Let him explain that to his flock of Nightengales!" He winked at Chris, clapped a hand on the smirking blond's back and headed for the door. "I'm starving. Hell, let's go to that new steakhouse, I'm buying."
THE END!
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