With A Touch - Part 3

Chris sat back in his chair and stared at the computer on his desk, a half-empty glass of bourbon in one hand and his cell phone cradled against his ear with the other. Nathan, God love him, had taken five wildly disparate reports from five wildly disparate agents and boiled them down into one concise, readable version, for which his tired boss thought he deserved a promotion, a raise and possibly sainthood. Especially considering the fact that Ezra's "summation" had run four pages long and Josiah's had included eye-crossing references to Talmudic law.

And Jackson Phelps, their current target, wasn't even Jewish.

At the moment, however, case reports weren't their resident medic's chief concern, and Chris found himself struggling to keep up with Jackson's extensive, and sometimes graphic, recitation of all the various possible complications of Vin's ailment. Plagued now by visions of Tanner's throat damn near rotting from the inside, he leaned forward in his chair and set his glass on his desk, deciding that Nathan really needed a vacation.

"It's just a nasty case of strep," he said firmly, cutting in before Nathan had Vin's head falling off his shoulders. "The doctor didn't seem too worried. He said the antibiotics should clear it up and that Vin should be back at work Monday." He heard the loud snort at the other end of the line and arched a brow. "What?"

"'Doctor didn't seem too worried,'" Nathan mimicked dourly. "He don't know Vin, don't know how many reasons Vin can find fo' not takin' his medicine, or how many ways he can find ta turn a simple cold into a crisis. Don't know the first thing about Vin or his medical history-"

"Think he might've gotten an idea," Chris answered with a wry smile. "Tanner listed Doc Stone as his primary care physician." He chuckled. "The doctor thought that was pretty strange."

Nathan snorted again. "See? He don't know Vin, else he wouldn'ta thought it was strange at all! Hell, Vin Tanner's the only man I know who can wake up in ICU and tell ya what day it is by which nurse is on what rotation!"

"Ezra," Chris sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. "Ezra can do it. And Buck-"

"That's only 'cause Buck's asked almost all of 'em out-"

"Speakin' of dates," Chris broke in tiredly, "shouldn't you be takin' Rain out somewhere? Once this case gets goin', there's no tellin' when you'll have the chance, and I'm sure she'd like to spend some quality time with you while she can." There was an over-long silence at the other end of the line and Chris sat up, suddenly intrigued. "Nathan?"

Jackson's sigh gusted through the phone. "Merced," he groaned.

Chris frowned in confusion, then gasped and arched two brows in shock. "She wants you ta take her to Merced?" he asked sharply of Denver's newest ultra-chic restaurant. "Didn't you tell her you need reservations at least three months-"

"She got 'em in three days," Nathan almost whined.

Chris winced in sympathy, remembering his own misery when Sarah had set her sights on such a place. Thank God Vin's idea of "chic" dining was just someplace where the food came on plates and not in styrofoam containers. "Do I wanta know how she managed that?" he asked carefully, already having a fair idea.

"Ezra!" Nathan spat. Larabee swore he could hear the man's teeth grinding.

Chris sighed and went back to pinching his nose. Ezra liked Rain, considered her a woman of intelligence, wit and sophistication. Ezra also had connections to every tight-assed maitre d' in town and could wangle reservations with an ease that just had to be criminal.

Someday, combining those two traits was gonna get Standish killed and land Jackson in prison.

"Go with God," he said simply, echoing one of Josiah's favorite benedictions.

"God ain't the one wearin' a damn tux!" Nathan snarled.

"Yeah," Chris grinned, "but God also ain't the one who'll be sittin' across the table from Rain and starin' at her through the candlelight."

There was another long pause, then Nathan breathed, "I didn't think about that. Still," he added, his gruffness returning, "you'd think a place that charges that much just fo' food could at least have lights instead'a candles!"

"Just go and have a good time," Chris ordered firmly. "And if Ezra doesn't show up for work Monday, I'm swearin' out a warrant against you!" He pulled the phone away from his ear and cut the connection before Nathan could come up with still more complaints.

"Nathan pissed at Ez again?"

Startled by the scratchy drawl, Chris spun around in his chair to see Vin slumped against the door frame in the entryway to the den, pale and looking as if he might just slide to the floor at any moment. "Why the hell aren't you in bed?" he asked on an aggrieved sigh, rising at once to his feet and crossing the big room with long, hurried steps.

"Had ta take a piss."

"And got lost between the bathroom and the bed?" Chris asked pointedly as he reached his lover's side and slipped a supporting around him.

"Didn't get lost," Vin breathed, shifting away from the door frame and into Larabee. "Jist got lonely." He dropped his head onto Chris's shoulder and circled his arms about the man's trim waist. "Bed's awful big without you in it."

Chris had to smile at that, remembering the many times he'd thought the same thing. "You sayin' I take up a lotta room?" he teased, tightening his arms about Tanner.

"Nope," Vin sighed contentedly. "Y' take up jist the right amount."

Chris turned his head and nuzzled through Vin's hair until he found an ear, then kissed it tenderly. "You wanta go back to bed or stay in here for a while?"

Vin shivered as the man's breath fanned warmly against his ear. "Wouldn't mind stayin' right here," he rasped.

"Sure," Chris grunted, "until you drop to the floor. How's about we compromise and sit on the couch?"

"You gonna sit with me?"

Chris arched a brow. "Needy when you're sick, ain'tcha?"

Vin lifted his head from Larabee's shoulder and grinned crookedly at him. "Hell, cowboy," he breathed hoarsely as he slid a hand slowly up Chris's chest, "I always need ya. Ain'tcha figgered that out yet?"

Chris scowled deeply and snagged that wandering hand by the wrist, pulling it away from his chest and settling it firmly at Tanner's side. "You're hopeless, you know that?" he growled.

"Not me," Vin retorted. His grin widened and he waggled his brows. "I got lotsa hopes!"

"Oh, God!" Chris groaned, dropping his head onto Tanner's shoulder.

Vin frowned slightly. "Y'know, Chris," he said, shifting his weight against the other man, "I love ya an' all, but if you don't git off me, we're both gonna end up in the floor."

Chris straightened immediately at that. "Oh, hell, I'm sorry, Vin!" He looked closely at his lover, searched the pale face and winced at the bruise-like shadows beneath his eyes. "You need to go back to bed-"

"Not without you," Vin breathed. "I'm all right, Chris, really. Tired some, an' mebbe a little wrung out, but I ain't gonna keel over on ya, I promise." He raised his hand and brushed his fingers through Larabee's thick golden hair. "Jist lemme sit on the couch," he asked. "You can do whatever work y' need ta do an' I'll rest up on the couch. I won't bother ya, I promise."

Chris smiled at that, his green eyes warm and soft. "You always bother me, Vin," he said in a low, husky voice. He lifted a hand and cupped it gently around his lover's long, slender neck. "You've been botherin' me since the first day I saw ya, and you'll be botherin' me 'til the day I die." He pulled Tanner forward and showered a series of tender kisses to his forehead and eyebrows. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," he whispered.

Vin smiled and melted into Larabee's body. "Y' bother me, too," he sighed. "I like it."

Larabee chuckled and nudged his lover out of the doorway. "Let's go bother each other on the couch," he suggested, starting them in that direction.

"Yer the boss," Vin agreed easily.

Chris snorted. "Wish you'd remember that when you're well."

"I always remember it," Vin said, leaning against Chris and letting the man lead him toward the sofa. "I jist don't pay attention to it."

"Suspicions confirmed," Larabee muttered. They reached the couch and he let go of Vin, watching as the Texan sank down upon it with an undisguised sigh of relief. "You need anything?"

Vin slanted a tired but inviting grin up at him. "Mebbe a long, tall cowboy t' bother me some?"

Chris set his hands on his hips and stared sternly down at him. "Thought you said you'd let me get some work done?"

"Yeah, I reckon I did," Vin sighed, his smile fading. "Cain't blame a fella fer tryin'."

"And you are definitely tryin'," Chris retorted. Nonetheless, he sat down and put one of the couch pillows in his lap, then circled an arm about Vin's shoulders and pulled the younger man's body down. "C'mon," he said quietly, "lie down. You look exhausted."

Vin needed no more urging than that, settling his head on the pillow in Larabee's lap and drawing his long legs up onto the couch. Gentle fingers began stroking through his hair, and, despite his efforts to keep them open, his eyes began to close. "Thought you had work ta do," he sighed.

Chris smiled softly and continued to stroke Tanner's hair. "I'm doin' it," he murmured. "Reports'll wait. This won't."

"What's 'this'?"

"This," Chris said softly. "Bein' with you, takin' care of you. Makin' sure you're all right."

Vin smiled sleepily, his eyes closed. "'M always all right with you."

Again that worry rippled through Chris and he stilled the movement of his fingers through Tanner's hair. "You know I'm not perfect."

Vin managed to crack open one eye and stared up at him. "And what the hell would I do with somebody who's perfect?" he asked. "Or what the hell would somebody who's perfect be doin' with me?" He forced open his other eye and lifted a brow. "You prob'ly ain't noticed, but I got a few flaws my own self. An' there's been a few fellas considered me more trouble than I'm worth."

"Then they were idiots," Chris growled, resuming his stroking of his lover's unruly hair. "You're a helluva lotta trouble all right, but you're worth every bit of it."

"Good," Vin breathed, his eyes again closing. "I'd hate fer ya t' think I'm easy."

Chris chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's not like I'd have any reason to think that, is there?"

"Uppity sonuvabitch," Vin grumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, I know," Chris murmured. "I make your hair hurt."

"Mmm," Vin moaned softly as that hand continued its slow, soothing motions. "Ain't hurtin' now."

"Then go to sleep," Chris urged. "I'll wake ya when I'm done, then we can both go to bed."

"Never did tell me why Nathan's mad at Ez," Vin said, his words slurring together.

"I'll tell ya in the mornin'. Now go to sleep."

"Y' won't go ta bed without me?"

"Can't," Chris assured him. "Bed's too big to sleep in alone."

"See?" Vin sighed as he drifted away. "Told y' so."

"Yeah, you did." Chris continued to stroke Tanner's hair even after he had fallen asleep. "You'd think by now I'd know better than to argue with you."

He lay awake but not moving, had no inclination to move, really, just lay there and watched the sunlight grow stronger as it crept into and slowly chased the shadows from the bedroom. He was smiling slightly, contentedly, one arm folded beneath his head, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, his handsome features softened by the peace that rested so comfortably, if so rarely, upon them.

Something else Vin had reminded him of - how much he loved these early hours of the morning. These first few blessedly quiet hours before the rush of the day and all it would require of him intruded, this restful time where, for a brief spell, the waking world seemed content to wait upon him, content to see what he would make of it rather than what it would demand from him.

Not so long ago, this time had been unbearable, had reminded him excruciatingly of his emptiness. His only defense, his only refuge, from the searing pain of his loss had been activity. Feverish, frantic, sometimes even purposeless activity; just something to fill the hours between waking and sleeping. So to lie in bed like this and just wait had been unthinkable, because the last thing he'd wanted to do was think. Remember. Hurt.

Right now, though, he could have lain like this forever.

He smiled slightly and turned his head a fraction, his face softening further still as his gaze fell upon the man sleeping next to him. Vin lay on his side, facing him, curled loosely into himself, his arm resting atop the covers and extended toward Chris. His face was slack, peaceful, his lips open, wet and soft, his cheeks faintly flushed from sleep and the fever that still burned in him. Long dark lashes lay like feathers against his skin, and the tousled wealth of his long hair spilled over his face and against his pillow in untamed curls. The rough silk strands called to Chris's fingers but he resisted their lure, not wanting to disturb his sleeping lover.

Vin had tossed restlessly until well after midnight, plagued by pain and sickness even in sleep, and more than once had been wakened by his discomfort. Chris had wakened with him, doing what he could to soothe him, just holding him when there was nothing else to do. Finally, at about 2 a.m., Vin had slipped into a deeper, more peaceful sleep, and Chris wasn't about to do anything to rouse him from the rest he so needed.

And it wasn't exactly a hardship just to lie here and watch Vin sleep ...

It never failed to amaze him how Vin changed in sleep. The guarded wariness he wore like armor in his waking moments completely disappeared, leaving him open, youthful, beautiful. The looseness of his body, the laxness of his muscles, all bespoke a comfort with and trust in Larabee that moved the older man deeply and awoke in him a sense of protectiveness that sometimes left him breathless. He knew that Tanner didn't need protecting, had been looking after himself so long that it had become second nature-

And that only made Chris want to protect him all the more. He wanted, needed, to take that burden from Vin, to make the younger man understand that he now had someone to do it for him, someone who wanted to do it for him. Vin had stood alone against the storm for far too long now. In Chris he had a willing shelter, a willing refuge. Vin had only to reach for him, to cling to him ...

"Yer starin' awful hard," came the rough, dry whisper. A single blue eye opened a crack and fixed on Larabee's face. "Gonna strain somethin'."

Chris chuckled ruefully and rolled onto his side, propping his head on a hand. "Lookin' at you?" he murmured, reaching out with his other hand to brush the hair lightly back from Vin's face. "I doubt that. You're pretty easy on these old eyes."

Vin sighed beneath the fingers that danced feather-like against his face and let his eye close again. "Ain't old," he breathed. "Yer jist right."

Chris brushed his fingers through Vin's hair, then slid them slowly down his warm face and long throat. "Glad you think so," he said in a low, silken voice, lightly rubbing his thumb against Vin's throat in an attempt to lull him back to sleep. "You're kinda just right, too."

Vin's mouth twitched in a sleepy smile. "You ol' sweet-talker, you."

Chris lifted a golden brow. "Thought you said I wasn't old?" he teased.

Vin stretched his arm out further, slipping it over Larabee's trim waist and scooting closer to the man. "Reckon the fever's got me muddled," he rasped. A blue eye opened again and gleamed brightly beneath its heavy lid. "Mebbe you c'd help clear me up some."

Chris heaved a long, slow sigh and slid his hand to Vin's chest, holding him at bay. "You're still sick," he reminded Tanner, steeling himself against his body's familiar reaction to his lover's nearness. "You're not up to anything just yet."

The second blue eye opened and full lips pursed into a soft pout. Vin dragged his hand back over Chris's waist and slid it slowly up his long, strong chest, fingers lightly stroking the man's bare flesh. "Always up fer you, cowboy," he whispered hoarsely. He shifted his hips beneath the covers and snaked one long leg over Larabee's, rubbing the instep of his foot slowly against Chris's calf. "Don'tcha wanta take my mind off my mis'ry?"

Chris shuddered and gasped, closed his eyes and swallowed hard, awash now in a fever of his own. Vin's voice was no longer a high-pitched squeak, but had dropped to a rough, throaty purr that wrapped around and rasped against Larabee's mind like nubby silk. Between that voice, the foot sliding against his leg, the hand playing at his chest and the knowledge that he'd have to refuse all of this, he figured that, right now, he knew more about "mis'ry" than Vin.

Goddamn the man to hell ...

Vin heard the hitch in Chris's breathing, watched the flush suffusing the man's flesh, felt the tensing of his long, lean body, and knew the considerable Larabee will was weakening. Pressing his advantage, he moved closer still, slid his arm up to slip it around the man's neck-

And growled in frustration when a strong, unyielding hand pushed him resolutely away. "Damn, yer no fun!" he huffed, unwrapping himself from Chris and flopping over onto his back.

Chris exhaled unsteadily and glared at his lover. "I'm not supposed to be fun!" he declared. "You're sick, remember? Doesn't that mean anything ta you?"

Vin scowled deeply and folded his arms against his chest. "Means yer a bigger grouch than usual," he sulked.

Chris groaned and dropped down onto the bed, covering his face with his hands to stifle his scream of frustration.

"I'm feelin' better, y'know," Vin said. "Ain't near as hot, ain't near as weak-"

"That's because you're lyin' down," Chris muttered between his fingers. "The minute you stand up, all that 'feeling better' is just gonna drain right out through your toes."

"Well, ain't you Little Mary Sunshine?" Vin sniped. "I'll bet you was president of the Optimist Club in school."

Chris kept his hands over his face and closed his eyes behind them. He thought about using the old trick of counting backward to calm himself, but couldn't think of a starting number high enough to make it work. Hell, there probably wasn't a number high enough when Vin was involved.

"Throat don't hurt near as bad, either," Vin persisted. And it was true. Didn't feel like he'd swallowed razor blades anymore. Burning matches, maybe, but not razor blades. He slanted a hopeful glance at his partner. "That's gotta be good, right?"

"That's real good, Vin," Chris said with a strange calm, his hands still over his face. "Glad ta hear it."

"Yer gonna suffocate, y'know," Vin pointed out.

"It couldn't possibly be that easy," Chris sighed. Nonetheless, he let his hands fall away and turned his face to his lover. "You do this on purpose, don't you?"

Vin arched a brow. "What, make ya cranky?" He snorted sharply and turned onto his side, propping his head up on his right hand. "Cain't blame me fer that, Larabee. You was cranky when I met ya." His lips twitched in a slight smile and he reached out with his left hand to run a finger lightly over Chris's face. "Lucky fer you I got a thing fer cranky ol' men."

Chris's hand shot up to capture Vin's and dragged that caressing finger to his mouth. "Yeah," he breathed, pressing a tender kiss to it, "that's real lucky for me."

Vin's eyes widened and darkened at that kiss and a shiver ran through him. He'd known men who could stir his body, but no one before Chris had ever stirred his soul. And the man did it so easily, with the smallest touch, the softest kiss, even the briefest look, slipped through his defenses and shattered them with a mere whisper, leaving Vin open, exposed, vulnerable ...

And safer than he'd ever imagined he could be.

"Lord, cowboy," he breathed shakily, gazing helplessly into Larabee's deep, clear green eyes, "think mebbe I'm the lucky one here."

Chris smiled softly and reached out, slipping an arm around Vin and drawing the younger man down to him. As Vin settled happily against him, that lean, over-warm body fitting so perfectly against his own and the shaggy head nestling against his shoulder, he wrapped his arms tightly about his lover and held him close, his aggravation at him fading as if it had never been. "Think we're both lucky, partner," he murmured, resting his head against Vin's. "Think maybe we're two of the luckiest sonsabitches alive."

Vin smiled and draped an arm around Chris's waist, then inserted one long leg between Larabee's, molding himself as snugly against the man as he could. He closed his eyes and simply breathed in Chris's scent, listened to his breathing and his heartbeat, let the man's warmth and strength engulf him. Sinking ever deeper into Chris, his every sense awash in and filled by Larabee, he lost all awareness of fever, pain and sickness and drifted gently back to sleep.

Chris heard the slowing of his breathing, felt the heaviness of his body, and smiled. He rubbed slow circles into Vin's back, pressed tender kisses into his hair ...

And decided that early morning was truly his favorite part of the day.

"How's about more ice cream?" Vin suggested, sitting at the small table in the kitchen and gazing hopefully at his lover.

Chris turned slowly away from the stove and toward Vin, fixing him with a steely look. "How's about eggs?" he countered through clenched teeth, fingers tightly gripping the spatula that he was about two heartbeats from converting into a weapon. "You know, solid, nutritious food."

Vin exhaled dejectedly and slumped back in his chair, knowing he'd lost this round. "Thought eggs was bad fer ya," he groused. "Y' know, loaded with cholesterol, give ya high blood pressure-"

"Well, since you barely have a blood pressure," Chris interrupted, turning back to the stove, "I'd say any increase would be an improvement. And I've seen your cholesterol counts." He shook his head in bewilderment. "Doesn't make any sense, but you're damn near the poster boy for the Heart Association!"

"That mean I can have bacon, too?" Vin asked, perking up considerably.

"Sure, why not?" Chris sighed resignedly, cracking an egg and dropping it into the skillet. "And next time I go to the store, I'll just buy some lard and you can eat it straight from the can."

"Y' need more coffee," Vin said evenly as he reached for his own cup. "Yer still a mite cranky."

"I can't imagine why," Chris muttered, breaking another egg.

Vin sipped at his coffee and watched his lover fix breakfast. Not every man looked comfortable in the kitchen, but Chris did, seemed as much at ease in this environment as he was in just about every other. He moved with a sure, spare grace, no waste or hesitation in his actions, a man fully in control of himself and his surroundings. He knew exactly what he needed, knew exactly where it was and got it all ready beforehand, seldom needing to rummage through cabinets or drawers for something he'd forgotten. And he almost never dropped anything on the floor.

Which Vin considered a true shame, because he surely did love to see the man bend over ...

Chris could feel Tanner's gaze upon him and allowed himself a little smile. He was by no means a vain man, but he couldn't deny the pleasure it gave him to know that Vin enjoyed looking at him. He'd been leered at often enough, by both women and men, and always found it distinctly unsettling. With Vin, though, it was never like that. The desire that would flare in the blue eyes was fueled by love, by a soul-deep appreciation of not just his body, but of all that came with it. And it would take a far stronger man than Chris Larabee not to take some delight in the wonder that Vin Tanner found in him.

"Well, I reckon the coffee's kicked in," Vin drawled with a knowing smirk. "Yer lookin' downright smug."

Chris expertly flipped the eggs, then turned a smile on Tanner. "You'd rather I go back ta cranky?"

"Nope." Vin winked and grinned. "Smug suits ya."

Chris felt the familiar stirring in his groin at that wink and grin and turned back to the skillet, willing an iron control on himself. "You don't give up, do ya?" he growled.

Vin chuckled softly and raised his cup to his lips. "Y' know me," he said over its rim, blue eyes gleaming, "I'm like a dog with a bone."

Chris only shook his head. And folks thought Buck Wilmington was preoccupied with sex ...

He transferred the eggs from skillet to plates, then popped four pieces of wheat bread into the toaster and pushed down the lever. He turned back to the stove, saw that the bacon was done, and turned off the heat beneath it. By the time the toast was done, the potatoes would be ready; he nodded in satisfaction.

Nice that order still reigned in some parts of his life ...

Then he glanced over at Vin and changed his mind. Shaking his head and grinning at his own foolishness, he knew that he wouldn't have the contrary, mind-bending Texan any other way. He'd had order once, had used it to hold life at arm's length. It had been safe, but cold and empty. He'd take chaos with Vin, life with Vin, over that cold and empty safety any day of the week.

"Yer thinkin' again," Vin said softly, easily able to see the play of thoughts over the face he knew so well.

"Yup," Chris agreed easily. The toast popped, the potatoes were done, and he smiled as breakfast came so neatly together. "Thinkin' about how much I like it when things go according to my plans." He served the food onto the plates, then carried them both over to the table and set them down. Sinking into the chair across from Vin, he smiled softly at his lover and added, "And how glad I am you came along to shake those plans all up."

Vin's eyes widened at that, then he bowed his head as a hot flush crept into his cheeks. Chris could still take him so completely by surprise, and he wondered if that would ever change. Hoped it never did. "Don't mean ta shake nothin' up," he rasped quietly, raising his head slowly to meet Larabee's gaze. "Jist think sometimes ... ya need t' let go. Fergit about all them plans an' jist let things be. Y' cain't control ever'thing, y'know."

"I know that," Chris answered softly. "I do. Or," he gave a sheepish grin, "part of me knows it. The other part," he shrugged, "I guess it'll always try. But," his smile faded and he leaned forward, reaching across the table for Vin's hand and taking it firmly in his own, "I will never, ever try to control you. And I hope you know that."

Vin smiled and shifted his hand just enough to lace his fingers through Chris's. "I ain't ever doubted it, cowboy," he rasped. "Y' ain't even the type ta try. And, trust me, I seen enough a' them ta know." He smiled slightly, his blue eyes dark and soft. "Hell, I reckon yer about the only man who's ever loved me fer me, who ain't been tryin' ta get more outta the deal than there is."

"I got you," Chris said simply, squeezing Vin's fingers lightly. "How much more could I possibly want than that?"

"Aw, hell," Vin breathed, bowing his head again as that treacherous blush rose once more through his cheeks. He stared at their clasped hands for a moment, then slowly lifted his gaze back to Chris. The love and tenderness shining from the man's green eyes washed through him in a warm, rich wave and brought a small, soft smile to his face. "Yeah," he managed to whisper, "reckon I couldn't ask fer no more'n this, either."

Chris dropped another load of soiled straw into the muck tub and sighed. Nothin' like shovelin' horse shit to take a man's mind of his frustrations. All of which would be wrapped up in one Vin Tanner. The man would try the patience and fortitude of a saint.

And Chris Larabee was nobody's idea of a saint.

He turned back to Pony's stall, dug the pitchfork into another patch of wet hay and scooped it up. Twenty-four hours. Vin was going to be contagious for at least another 24 hours. Chris sighed, pivoted, dropped the straw into the tub and sighed again. It was gonna be the longest damn 24 hours of his life.

And, damn his sick, sorry ass all to hell, Tanner wasn't helping a bit.

He continued to scoop, continued to dump, continued to fume. Hadn't Vin heard the doctor mention that "contagious" thing? Even if he hadn't, and even if he weren't, still he couldn't possibly believe that he was in any shape for sex right now! Hell, he couldn't even stand up for fifteen minutes at a time without his strength deserting him. Didn't that mean anything?

Chris groaned, set the tines of the pitchfork into the straw and dropped his forehead onto the end of the handle. Shit, he really should've known better than to ask Vin that question. Goddamned ornery Texan had an answer for everything. And it usually wasn't the answer Larabee wanted to hear.

God had put Tanner on this earth just to torment him. He knew that, was firmly convinced of it. Vin Tanner was God's way of getting back at Chris Larabee.

God definitely had a mean streak.

Chris lifted the fork and went back to cleaning out the stall. When he'd finally removed all the wet clumps, he set aside the pitchfork, grabbed the "cherry picker" and began sifting through the remaining straw to remove the shit. Between the physical exertion and the heat of the day, even before noon, soon he was bathed in sweat, his golden hair plastered wetly to his head and his sodden shirt clinging to his body. He took frequent swigs from the jug of water he'd brought, wiped the sweat from his face, throat and neck with a handkerchief, but kept at his labors.

When Pony's stall was clean and fresh straw laid down, he moved to Peso's stall for a repeat performance. And noticed immediately that the latch on the door was loose.

Damn good-for-nothin' horse had been trying to pick the lock again.

Making a mental note to fix the latch yet again, Chris dug the pitchfork into the straw and commenced mucking, frowning as he realized that there seemed to be more wet straw in this stall than in Pony's. Hell, Peso really was all piss and vinegar! He chuckled softly at his joke, then groaned.

Jesus, he was startin' to sound like Vin and JD!

And he was talking to himself again ...

Firmly resolving to stop doing that, he turned his attention resolutely to the chore at hand and removed the wet hay and "horse apples" with his customary efficiency. By the time he finished, sweat dripped from his nose, chin and the ends of his hair, and he itched all over from the bits of straw that clung to his wet skin or had worked their way under his shirt. But the stalls were clean, and between that and sweeping the aisles earlier, he'd managed to kill a couple of hours.

Two down, 22 to go.

Damn, he really needed to get more horses.

He put away the wheelbarrow and implements and moved the muck tub well away from the stalls. Wouldn't Peso just love to kick that over? Deciding to save fixing the latch for last, and briefly considering just investing in a heavy-duty chain and padlock to keep the damn horse out of mischief, he settled on emptying and scrubbing out the water buckets.

Several hours later he returned to the house, hot, dirty and wringing wet with sweat, but pleased with himself. He'd gotten even more than he'd intended done, and managed to work off his frustration as well. As he entered through the den, a smile spread across his face and his contentment deepened. Vin was stretched out on the couch in a loose, languid sprawl, utterly relaxed and deeply asleep.

Glad to see him getting the rest he needed to recover, Chris moved quietly to the couch and gazed down at Vin for long moments, simply drinking in the sight of his peaceful face. He was tempted to reach down and brush the hair back from his forehead, but held himself in check, knowing that Vin responded too easily to his touch and not wanting to disturb him. But he did lean over and lift the afghan from the back of the couch, then spread it gently over his sleeping lover. He watched a moment to make sure that Vin didn't wake, then turned and walked out of the den with silent steps, smiling slightly all the while.

Hell, maybe God knew what he was doin' after all.

He stood under the shower head and let the hot water beat against his body, groaning softly in sheer pleasure. He tilted his head back under the stream and raised his hands to scrub loose the bits of straw from his hair and scalp, then dropped his head forward to let the water pulse against his neck and shoulders. He flexed and stretched his body like a cat, letting the hot water ease the kinks from his tired muscles and wash the sweat, straw and grime from his skin. Delighting in the feel of the hot water coursing over him, he sighed happily and reached for the shower gel and wash cloth ...

And realized that he'd neglected to bring in a wash cloth. Damn. He sighed again, shaking his head at his own absent-mindedness, and opened the stall door, reaching through it for the cloth that always hung with the hand towel on the bar between the sink and the shower. He swiped at the bar, felt nothing. Frowning, he stuck his head through the door ...

And sighed yet again when he saw Vin sitting on the toilet, waving the wash cloth slowly and grinning wickedly.

"Fergit somethin', cowboy?" Tanner drawled in that low, rough rasp.

Chris could do no more than stare at him, transfixed. He hadn't heard Vin come in, had no idea how long he'd been here, but knew it had to have been a while. His long hair, damp from the steam filling the bathroom, had drawn up into curls, and sweat glistened over his skin and soaked into his t-shirt, molding it to his body. A bead of moisture slid slowly down his long throat and Chris watched it helplessly, his eyes tracking its progress as it glided over heat-flushed skin. It rolled down Vin's Adam's apple, then joined with another to pool in the notch of the man's collarbone, and Chris suddenly wanted nothing more than to dip his tongue into that reservoir and lick the moisture away.

Vin saw the hungry look spreading over his lover's face and felt a sudden flare of heat within himself that had nothing to do with the temperature of the steamy bathroom. He really hadn't come in here with the intention of seducing Chris, had figured he'd just gather up the man's dirty clothes to throw them in the washer. But he'd made the mistake of looking at the stall door, had seen the silhouette of that long, lean body through the frosted glass, and hadn't been able to do any more than lower the toilet lid and sit down to watch.

Beat the hell out of anything on TV.

He knew it was stupid, knew he should've just grabbed the clothes and gone, knew that absolutely nothing could, or even should, come of his ogling Chris. Despite what Larabee thought, he really did understand what "contagious" meant and truly did know the limits of his own diminished strength. But the man was just too damn beautiful, even behind a shower door, and while Vin had always possessed a will of pure iron, when it came to Chris, his will suddenly turned to Jell-O.

He didn't have any business sitting here and holding out that wash cloth, hoping to entice Chris out of the shower. Didn't have any business trying to figure out how he could get into that shower. It was stupid, he knew that.

But, hell, he'd never claimed to be the smartest man on earth.

"Thought mebbe y' could use some help scrubbin' yer back," he rasped softly, his wide, unblinking gaze fixed on Chris.

Larabee tried; God help him, he tried. Fought against the power of those cobalt eyes and that rough, smoky voice with everything that was in him. Trouble was, everything that was in him belonged entirely to Vin and, like a river racing toward the sea, sought only to join with and plunge itself into the man's life-giving depths. Might as well try and resist his need to breathe as to resist his need for Vin.

He really was hopeless. Happy, but absolutely hopeless.

"How ya feelin'?" he finally managed to ask, his voice a thick, shaky whisper. He stared at Tanner, honestly tried to gauge how the man was doing, but just kept getting lost in those eyes.

"Better," Vin answered truthfully. He smiled slightly and shrugged lightly. "Done slept near half the day away. Figgered mebbe it was time I got a shower m'self." Chris was leaning further out of the stall now, half his powerful, perfect body exposed, and Vin swallowed hard and licked his lips. "S'posed t' be good fer m' throat," he reminded Larabee hoarsely.

But Chris needed no such reminder. Not when it came to that throat. "It still hurtin'?"

"Not so much now. Fire's startin' ta burn down." Though other fires were rising ...

And Chris couldn't help it. Knew he should help it, knew he was about to make a huge mistake, but just ... couldn't help it. Not when Vin was looking at him as if his every prayer was on the verge of being answered, not when those blue, blue eyes regarded him with so much love and want in their depths that it almost hurt him to see it. He could withstand Vin's playful teasing, could steel himself against the man's attempts at seduction. But there was absolutely nothing in him that could stand against the artless, honest, naked need in his lover's face.

Especially when it was a need that had nothing to do with sex.

"Come on in, then," he invited in a low, throaty voice, leaning against the stall frame. "The water's fine."

Vin gasped softly and sat up straight, his eyes widening further still. "Y' mean it?" he whispered, half expecting some catch.

But Chris gave a slow, lazy grin and arched a golden brow. "Don't usually say things I don't." Vin shot to his feet, took a step forward, and Chris held out a warning hand. "Might wanta take off your clothes first," he suggested, still grinning. "Be a lot easier ta bathe without 'em."

Vin scowled as a guilty flush crept into his cheeks. Maybe he was just a mite eager, but that didn't mean Chris had to stand there looking so all-fired pleased with himself. "'At's right," he growled, still scowling even as he hurriedly yanked off his t-shirt, "make fun of the sick an' helpless!"

Chris struggled not to laugh, but couldn't help taking a wicked pleasure in the younger man's obvious eagerness. "Just try not ta fall over," he teased as Tanner balanced unsteadily on one foot and tried to pull the leg of his sweatpants over the other one. "Last thing you need's a head injury on top of strep throat."

Vin shot him a withering glare as he finally pulled his leg free of the sweats and then stripped them off the other. "Smug sonuvabitch," he muttered, tossing the sweats aside, his briefs still inside them. "Hell, if you wasn't s' goddamn purty, I'da put a bullet in ya long ago."

Whatever retort Chris would've made died on his lips as Vin turned to face him. Long-limbed, lean and lithe, the Texan moved with a fluid, flowing grace, sinewy muscles flexing and rippling with a supple strength beneath smooth flesh. His blue eyes were as wide and dark as the twilight sky, damp curls brushed against his shoulders and tendrils of hair clung wetly to his throat, and sweat glinted in the sparse hair between his pectorals. Chris stared helplessly at the young man before him, all trace of his former smugness replaced by rapt adoration.

Jesus, Tanner was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen!

"Ya gonna let me in?" Vin asked softly, made slightly uncomfortable by the near-worship in Chris's eyes. He'd never considered himself more than tolerable to look at, still saw too much of the scrawny street-rat he'd once been staring back at him from his mirror. Yet Chris always gazed upon him as if he were damn near a work of art, and he still wasn't quite sure how to reconcile what Larabee saw in him with what he knew himself to be. "All that good hot water's goin' ta waste whilst yer standin' there gawkin'."

"I'm not gawkin'," Chris murmured, his eyes and smile soft. "I'm just admirin', and wonderin' how the hell I got so lucky."

"Aw, hell," Vin whispered, bowing his head as his discomfort deepened. "Sometimes I wish ya wouldn't say things like that. I don't ever know what ta say back."

Chris held out a hand. "You don't have to say anything," he said, smiling gently. "Just know that I mean every word."

Vin looked up slowly, saw the tenderness and the honesty in his lover's eyes, and smiled shyly, reaching out and slipping his hand into Larabee's. "Yeah," he breathed, curling his fingers about Chris's and going to him, "reckon I do. Reckon that's what I like about ya. Ain't ever been one t' lie ta me."

"Never have, never will." Chris stepped back into the shower, pulling Vin in after him and shutting the door. Steam rose about them in an opaque cloud. "But I hope," he murmured, slipping his free arm around Tanner's waist and gazing ardently into his deep blue eyes as he backed them under the spray of water, "that's not the only thing you like about me."

"Oh, hell no," Vin sighed, pulling his hand out of Chris's to circle both arms around the man's neck, "I can think of lotsa things. An' ever' day the list gets longer."

Chris chuckled softly and pulled Vin closer still, delighting in the feel of that lean, hard body against his own. "You feel cooler," he whispered, bowing his head to nuzzle lightly at the tender flesh just below one ear while his hand stroked slowly against the man's narrow back. "Think maybe your fever's breakin'."

Vin shivered at the feel of those long fingers moving against his skin, at the glide and scrape of firm lips and sharp teeth against his neck. "Y' keep this up," he gasped hoarsely, "it's jist gonna shoot up again!"

"Hmm," Chris purred. He dragged his mouth down to the quickening pulse in Tanner's throat and laved his tongue against it. "Thought a hot shower was supposed ta help you."

Vin shuddered and groaned as the man's mouth played hungrily at his neck and fueled the heat rising in his blood. A hard thigh thrust between his two, hands raked down his back to his ass to cup and squeeze his cheeks, and Chris's crotch drove into his, the man's hard cock thrusting against and raking across his own, bringing it at once to aching, needy fullness. All the while, water sluiced over and between their bodies, its warmth adding to that already scorching through him, and the sensory overload was almost more than he could bear.

"Think mebbe ... it's more like ... t' kill me!" he gasped, driving his long fingers into Larabee's shoulders and clinging tightly, desperately to the man as his knees threatened to buckle.

Chris trailed his mouth down to Vin's collarbone and tongued the notch there, then closed his lips over one corner of the bone and began to suck. Feeling the tremors racing through his lover's lean frame, he tightened his arms about the man and slid his mouth up to the junction of Tanner's neck and shoulder, licking at the wet, warm flesh and then sinking his teeth sharply into it.

Vin cried out hoarsely as Chris's teeth drove shards of pain and pleasure through him. The man's mouth, hands and body moved against him with a devastating mastery, tearing another ragged gasp from him as the need churned hard and hot within him. "God, Chris!"

Larabee shifted and bowed his head lower still, tonguing his way down Tanner's chest to one dusky nipple and lapping thirstily at the water cascading over it, wringing another breathless cry and hard shudder from the younger man. He swirled his tongue around the dark aureola, blew puffs of air against the wet flesh, then drew the taut bud into his mouth. He sucked hard at it, then scraped his teeth against it as he slowly pulled his mouth free. "Maybe one day," he growled, lifting his head to gaze into the midnight pools of his lover's dilated eyes, "you'll learn not ta play with fire."

But Vin shook his head weakly. "Always been ... a mite slow," he rasped. He reached up to rake an unsteady hand through Larabee's wet hair, then slid it around and down the man's face, neck and chest, finally letting his fingers rest against Chris's throbbing heart. "Reckon mebbe ... I need t' be burned real good. Make sure I learn m' lesson."

Chris chuckled and laid a hand over Vin's. "You're impossible, you know that?" He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly against Vin's, then nibbled at one corner of his mouth. Tanner moaned and turned his face more fully into that kiss, opening his mouth hungrily, and Chris pulled back. "And," he said with mock-sternness, arching a golden brow, "you're still contagious. God alone knows how many ways I'm infectin' myself right now."

"Then what's one more matter?" Vin whispered, sweeping his lips against Larabee's chin. "'Sides, ain't I worth a few bacteria?"

"You gonna take care of me if I get sick?"

Vin smiled softly and lifted his hand from Larabee's chest to cradle the man's cheek in his long fingers. "'Til the day I die, cowboy," he breathed, his gaze intent on his lover's strong and beautiful face. "In sickness an' in health. Ain't that how it goes?"

Chris shivered as those words, murmured in that rough, ragged rasp, struck straight to his heart. It was a vow that he and Vin would likely never legally exchange, yet mere legality could never make it any more binding than their souls already had. "Yeah, partner," he whispered, raising an unsteady hand to comb his fingers through the wet mass of Vin's hair, "that's exactly how it goes. For both of us."

"You already been takin' care a' me." Vin leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the slight cleft in Larabee's chin, kissing lightly, then drew his head back. "Figgered it's my turn t' take care a' you."

"Vin-"

"I know, I'm contagious," he breathed. "I know that, I do. Still, there's ways, and," he winked, "there's ways."

"Oh, God!" Chris groaned at the thought of his partner's many "ways."

Vin grinned wickedly and waggled his eyebrows, then slid his hand slowly over Larabee's chest, callused fingers finding and scraping lightly over one small nipple, rousing it to hardness and tearing a sharp gasp from his lover. He closed thumb and forefinger about the dark nub, pinching and rolling it between them, then thrust his hips and drove his hard, thick cock into Chris's. He wanted nothing more than to capture the man's full, inviting mouth with his own, to seize and feast upon the lush lower lip that was his constant torment and delight, and had to bite his own lip to stop himself. Still, there were other ways ...

And he wouldn't be contagious forever.

Chris wasn't at all sure he liked the dangerous, calculating look that flashed across Vin's face. The man's mind worked in ways he tried for his own sanity not to pry into too closely, had a devious bent that often left even Ezra in awe and that often left Larabee shattered and spent and wondering just what the hell had happened.

Still waters ran deep, and through some wickedly twisted channels.

Vin tilted his head slightly to one side and frowned thoughtfully, the pink tip of his tongue slipping through his lips, then trailed his hand across to Chris's other nipple, brushing the pad of his thumb against it. Chris gasped and shuddered and Vin arched a brow as if piqued by that reaction. He brushed again, Larabee groaned and shivered again, and Tanner grinned like a kid discovering a new toy.

Chris knew he was doomed.

Vin leaned forward, bowed his head and flicked his tongue against the nipple, then turned his head and did the same to the other. His hands slid down Larabee's body to his trim hips, then around to his ass, long fingers digging into and kneading the tight mounds of flesh. He turned his head again, slid his tongue down the alley between Larabee's well defined pecs, and dipped one hand into the crack between the man's ass cheeks. He dragged his mouth back to one nipple and latched fiercely on to it, sucking ravenously, and his other hand darted around to seize possessively upon the man's thick cock, stroking and pulling the rigid length of velvet steel.

Chris gave a wordless cry and threw back his head, gripping Tanner's narrow hips tightly and thrusting helplessly into the man's hand. Vin sucked first at one nipple, then the other, and pumped ever more insistently at his cock. Then the man's other hand slid down the crack in his ass, found the tight ring of his anus, and one long, insistent finger pressed inside. Chris gasped, jerked and drove his fingers into Vin's flesh, thrusting alternately into his hand or down against his finger, his blood rising to a hard boil inside him.

Larabee's movements against him sent Vin's body and senses into overdrive, honed his hunger to a sharp and desperate edge and heightened the hideous ache pounding through his straining, weeping cock. Awash in and driven by his own need, he rocked urgently into Larabee's body, felt the hot tingling in his thighs, at the base of his spine, in his tightening balls, and thrust harder, faster still against the man. All the while he fisted Larabee's shaft more tightly, pulled harder at the thick flesh, and, inside the man's ass, found and stroked his prostate. Chris jerked again, drove himself down against Vin's finger and jetted his stream into his lover's hand just as Tanner shot forth thick ropes of cum.

They slumped into each other, spent, shaken and their bones damn near turned to water. Vin shuddered convulsively and withdrew his finger from Chris's ass, his vision graying at the edges, his strength abruptly deserting him. A thick groan escaped him as his knees buckled, but, before he could fall, Chris caught him and lowered him carefully to the shower floor. Larabee settled himself on the floor then, gathered Tanner into his arms and leaned back against the wall, cradling his lover's trembling body close against his own as contentment and water washed over them both.

Chris knew he should turn off the water, knew it would be losing its heat any minute and knew he didn't dare risk letting Vin take a chill. Knew they should both get up and get out, knew he should be rushing to get Vin dried and dressed. Knew he should probably start on all that right now ...

Vin shivered, burrowed further into Larabee's embrace and nestled his face into the junction of the man's neck and shoulder. "Love ya, cowboy," he croaked, relaxing into the solid strength of his lover's body.

Chris smiled softly and laid a cheek against Vin's head. "Love you, too, Tanner," he murmured, tightening his arms about the younger man and feeling yet again the utter rightness of that slender body's fit against his own.

Well, maybe they could stay in here for a few more minutes yet ...

"You feelin' better?" Chris asked quietly, still more than a little worried. Vin had damn near passed out in the shower and had emerged shaking, pale and chilled to the bone. Larabee had gotten him dry and dressed as quickly as possible, then had wrapped him in the afghan and ordered him to rest on the couch while he got the maddening fool something to eat. Now they were stretched out together on the big, deep green sofa, Vin's back to his chest and the man's head pillowed against his shoulder, his arms around Tanner's lean body and Vin's arms folded over his, the afghan over them both.

"You're holdin' me, ain'tcha?" he breathed contentedly. Chris had reheated and fed him a bowl of the chicken soup to warm him from the inside, and now the afghan and the heat from Larabee's body were taking care of the rest. "Surest cure I know fer anything that ails me."

"Yeah, well," Chris scolded gently, tightening his arms about the Texan, "maybe you should try eatin' somethin' first the next time you wanta waste your strength."

Vin turned his head to slant a lazy, mischievous grin at his lover. "Ain't ever wasted on you, cowboy."

Chris tried to scowl, but felt his mouth pulling into an answering smile instead. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Could be," Vin agreed easily. He snuggled deeper into Larabee's embrace, fitting himself more closely still against Larabee's warm, hard body. "Or could jist be I know a good thing when I see it. An' trust me, cowboy, yer about the best damn thing I've ever seen."

Chris chuckled quietly and pressed a tender kiss to the top of Vin's still-damp head. "You're pretty good yourself, partner," he murmured. "It's not everybody who can turn a shower into a cardiovascular work-out."

"Wasn't talkin' about the shower," Vin drawled softly. He pulled reluctantly away from Chris's body and turned on to his right side, facing Larabee and propping his head up on his right hand. His left he stretched out and brushed gently over the man's face. "I'm jist talkin' about you," he rasped. "'Bout what ya do fer me."

Chris reached up and caught that caressing hand, carried it to his mouth and brushed soft kisses against Vin's knuckles. "And what's that?" he asked, his green eyes warm and deep.

Vin exhaled unsteadily at the whisper of those lips against his skin. There was nothing sexual in the kisses, no attempt to arouse or seduce him. They were simply small, instinctive expressions of love, and their sweetness sank straight to his soul. "This," he whispered shakily, wide blue eyes intent upon his lover's face. "Take care of me. Love me. Make me feel like there ain't nothin' in yer world more important than me."

"There's not," Chris assured him solemnly. He released Vin's hand and lifted his own to brush the damp hair back from the younger man's pale face, his fingertips skimming lightly over Tanner's browbone and temple. "Not one single damn thing." He curled his fingers around Vin's neck and gently pulled him back down, guiding Tanner's head back to his shoulder. "And there's nothin' more

important to me than takin' care of you."

"Won't get much work done this way," Vin breathed, settling without a struggle into the shelter of his lover's body.

"Work doesn't need me. You do."

"Lord, ya got that right!" Vin whispered fervently. A chill raced through him and he scooted closer still to Chris, pulling the man's left arm across his body.

Chris felt him shiver and frowned, then pulled the afghan up further and tucked it close about his body. Vin's fever had finally broken, but Chris worried that their extended "shower" had taken more heat from him than he'd needed to lose. "You sure you're all right?"

Vin smiled wanly and nodded. "I'm f-" A golden brow shot up and he immediately amended his phrasing. "I'm all right, I promise. Mebbe a little cold, but I reckon you'll take care of that."

"I can adjust the air-"

"'Cept you'd have t' get up fer that, an' I don't wantcha ta move," Vin said. He smiled at the concern creasing Larabee's face. "'S all right, cowboy," he breathed, sliding his left arm over Chris's trim waist. "I'm all right. Jist stay where y' are an' I'll be fine, I promise."

Chris studied Vin's face carefully for long moments, taking in its pallor and the lines of weariness etched into it. His blue eyes were no longer over-bright and glassy with fever, but were dulled by sickness and fatigue and circled by dark shadows. He'd seen the man in far worse shape than this - hell, had seen him in the hospital, hooked up to every machine imaginable and fighting for his

life - but still it hurt to see him suffering at all. Hurt to know there was nothing he could do to take away that suffering.

Vin saw all that in Chris's face, in his eyes, and was more warmed by it than he would've been by any number of blankets. His heart tightened in his chest and he gave a small, unsteady smile. "Wish I could tell ya how it feels," he whispered, "t' have you lookin' at me like yer doin' right now. Like all's ya

wanta do is take away ever'thing that's botherin' me an' make it all better."

"I would if I could," Chris sighed. He cupped Vin's face in his right hand, his thumb lightly stroking the Texan's pale, whiskered cheek. "Just wish I knew how-"

"Yer doin' it now," Vin said, his smile growing drowsy, his eyelids drooping. "Hell, y' been doin' it all along. Ya make it better jist by bein' with me, Chris, take it all away with yer touch." His eyes wanted to close but he held them open, refusing to leave this man as yet even for needed sleep. "Ya do more fer me than y' know, cowboy. When I'm with you, no matter how bad I feel or how shitty things are, I know it's gonna be all right somehow. So long as yer holdin' me, I'm safe."

Chris smiled slightly and slid his thumb slowly over Tanner's mouth. "Well then, I guess you're gonna be safe from now on," he murmured. "'Cause God knows I don't ever plan to stop holdin' you."

Vin knew what Chris was doing, knew that low, silken voice and hypnotic thumb were trying to lull him into sleep, and he knew they'd succeed. Larabee always succeeded; it was one of the man's more maddening habits. And one of the reasons he loved him so.

"Damn, cowboy," he breathed. "You do beat all I've ever seen."

Chris continued stroking Vin's face, sliding his hand up to massage one temple, then lightly rubbing the sharpshooter's forehead. He could see Vin battling to keep his eyes open, and could see him losing the battle. "Let go, partner," he urged softly, leaning over to press a tender kiss between Vin's eyebrows. "Just let go and get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

"I know," Vin sighed, his leaden eyes closing of their own accord. "I done finally figgered that out." He reached up for Chris's hand and folded his own about it, then held them both against his heart. "I ain't runnin' alone no more," he murmured, turning into Chris's body and relaxing against him. "Finally got somebody who's gonna be here when I need him."

Chris smiled and wrapped his free arm around Vin, cradling his lover's slender body close against him. "Got news for ya, Tanner," he said quietly, "I'm gonna be here even when ya don't need me."

Vin gave a soft, sleepy chuckle. "'N I got news fer you, Lar'bee," he slurred. "Ain't a minute goes by that I don't need ya. I'll stop breathin' b'fore I'll ever stop needin' you."

"Then I guess you're stuck with me," Chris said.

"Yer the gum beneath my shoe."

Chris laughed and shook his head. "Always the romantic," he teased. He brushed his lips against Vin's forehead. "Now go to sleep."

"Y' won't go nowhere?" Vin asked on a sleepy sigh.

Chris smiled and laid a cheek against the top of Vin's head. "You know how hard it is to get gum off your shoe."

Vin only sighed again, already drifting away.

Chris settled himself comfortably against the couch and pillows, pulled the afghan up higher over himself and Vin, then, under it, wrapped one arm around Tanner's waist and slid the other hand slowly up and down his sleeping lover's back. A loose, contented smile spread across his face and his own eyes drifted shut as once again he thought about all the work he'd brought home from the office ...

And once again decided that he was already doing the work that truly mattered.