Chris woke slowly, reluctantly, his sleep invaded by the unwelcome feel of warmth against his face and the annoying prick of light against his eyelids. Wanting nothing more than to slip back into darkness, he groaned and turned onto his side, determined to ignore the lure of morning. But even through his grogginess, he was aware of something not quite right about the bed beneath him, something unfamiliar in the way it felt. He groaned again and buried his face in the pillow…

And realized it wasn’t his pillow. It was much too plump and didn’t give in the right places. And the covers twisted around him were too heavy, too thick. He rose yet another level toward wakefulness and frowned. The pillow was too soft, the bed too firm, the covers too warm.

Shit, when had he turned into Goldilocks?

He moved beneath the covers, stretched out a leg, and jerked awake when his foot encountered another. He gasped and sat up abruptly, then exhaled sharply and scowled down into two blue eyes regarding him with mild amusement.

"Gotta say," Vin rasped, his voice hoarse and his drawl thick with sleep, "when I dream of wakin’ up next to a blond, you ain’t exactly what I have in mind."

Chris scowled more deeply still, then crossed his legs and scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, trying to will his brain to engage. "This isn’t my room," he finally croaked.

One corner of Vin’s mouth twitched in a grin. "Quick in the mornin’, ain’tcha?"

Chris muttered darkly under his breath and frowned down at Tanner as memory slowly filtered through his sluggish mind. "I slept in here," he said thickly. "I came in ta check on ya…" He chuckled and shook his head. "Guess I musta been more tired than I thought!"

"Yeah," Vin breathed with a small smile. He had a vague recollection of Chris getting into bed, a fleeting memory of the feeling of security that had stayed with him afterward. For the first time in much too long he’d slept through the whole night, blissfully untroubled by nightmares, and he knew it hadn’t been because of any medication. "I reckon we were all pretty wiped out after…" His smile faded and his gaze drifted away from Larabee’s. "Well, after last night."

Chris winced at the shadow that crossed his friend’s face, easily able to imagine the fears churning through Vin right now. He had to be wondering how last night’s revelations would affect the way his teammates, his friends, would look at him now, how what they’d heard would change the way they thought about him. He had to be worried about what else had been shattered besides illusions and ignorance.

And only in realizing how groundless Vin’s fears were did he understand how ridiculous his own last night had been.

"It’s a terrifying thing," he said quietly, resting his forearms on his knees and lacing his fingers lightly together, "to face opening up to people. You spend so much time and effort convincing everybody, even those closest to you, that you’re strong, that you can take anything life has to offer, that you can’t be broken. That when everyone else has gone down in flames, you’ll be the last man standing. Then somethin’ happens and you get cut wide open, and all of a sudden everybody can see just how fucked up you are on the inside, and how fucked up you’ve been all along. All of a sudden everybody around you knows you’re human, and that scares the shit outta you."

Vin looked away and licked his lips, considering Chris’s words, then turned his head back and lifted an uncertain gaze to the man. "I jist… I jist ain’t used ta–"

"I wasn’t talkin’ about you, partner," Chris said softly. "I was talkin’ about me. Hell, about all of us. With the possible exception of JD, we’ve all got things we’d really rather no one knew about us, that we fight like hell to keep to ourselves and that make us pretty damn sure nobody’s ever gonna look at us the same once they find out. Buck didn’t want us ta know that his mother was a call girl. Nathan was ashamed to tell us that his father went to prison for killing the man who raped his mother. Josiah didn’t want us to know about Hannah. I couldn’t stand to hear anybody even mention Sarah and Adam’s names. Ezra was pretty sure we’d toss him out on his ass if we found out about all that shit in Atlanta. But we found out. We found out about everybody’s shit. And so far," he shrugged, "nobody’s walked away yet. I don’t know," he arched a golden brow at Tanner, "maybe the fact that we’re all fucked up isn’t as big a surprise to each other as we’d like to think."

Vin stared at Chris for long moments, reading the sincerity beneath the wry humor, and felt some of his fear melting away. Larabee was right. They’d all had countless chances to walk away from whatever it was they’d found together, but, so far, no one had managed to take that first step. Maybe they wouldn’t today, either.

Chris saw the younger man relaxing, saw the shadow of fear receding from his eyes, and nodded reassuringly. "It’s gonna be all right, Vin," he said gently. "It’s gonna take a while, and it won’t be easy, but it’s gonna be all right. At least we all know what we’re dealin’ with now, and hopefully that’ll help us figure out how ta help ya. You just have ta trust us."

Vin studied him a moment longer, then nodded once and gave a small, crooked smile. "Don’t think I’ll have any problem with that part," he breathed.

"Well, all right then," Chris said with a wide grin. "Now, what’s say we get up and get this day started? I don’t know about you, but I need a shower, coffee and breakfast. And I’m pretty sure the horses need feedin’, too. If you feel up to it, you can go out with me and say hi to Peso. How’s that sound?"

Pleasure lit Vin’s eyes and widened his smile. He knew he was in no shape to do any more than to talk to his horse, pat him and maybe brush him – and that depending on Peso’s mood – but he was more than willing to take what he could get. "Sounds like a plan ta me," he drawled. He sat up slowly, grunting in pain as his stiff body protested the movement. Almost at once, Chris was reaching over to help him, and he gave his friend a strained but grateful smile. "Feel near’s old as you," he quipped hoarsely.

Chris shot him a glare. "You keep mouthin’ off like this and you’ll never be as old as me," he warned. He released Vin and watched the younger man turn and slide his legs over the edge of the bed. "You gonna be all right by yourself in the bathroom?" he asked worriedly.

Vin levered himself carefully to his feet, then turned to scowl at Chris. "Listen here, Larabee," he rasped, "don’t go gettin’ no ideas jist ’cause I let ya sleep with me. I ain’t easy, y’know, ’n I ain’t cheap."

"Hell, I know that’s right," Chris grumbled as Vin limped toward the dresser. "I’ve seen your bar tabs."

7~7~7~7

When at last they made their way to the kitchen, Vin’s troublesome left knee encased securely in the brace Chris had found and "insisted" he wear, Josiah was drinking coffee and reading the morning paper, wearing headphones that led to the Walkman clipped onto his belt. The reason for the headphones was immediately clear. Buck was at the stove making pancakes while swiveling his hips and singing along with gusto to his new "Elvis 1" CD.

"Don’t s’pose I could persuade ya ta lemme have one gun, could I?" Vin asked Chris as Buck began bopping around the kitchen to "Big Hunk O’ Love" and singing into his mixing spoon as if it were a microphone.

Chris said nothing, merely stalked around Buck – only narrowly avoiding being grabbed for a dance – and stopped the CD.

"Aw, now, Chris!" Buck protested.

"No Elvis before coffee," Chris said tersely. "House rule number two."

Buck frowned. "What’s house rule number one?"

"Tell him, Vin," Chris ordered, zeroing in on the coffee pot and heading toward it.

Tanner sighed and cast a disgusted look at Larabee. "No Garth Brooks before breakfast."

Buck whistled and shook his head. "Man, that’s harsh."

"Some folks jist ain’t mornin’ people," Vin muttered.

"And the rest of you had best keep that in mind," Chris warned, taking down two mugs from the cabinet and pouring coffee into one. "For your sakes as well as mine." He glanced at Vin. "Coffee?"

"I’m awake and breathin’, ain’t I?"

Chris smiled. "All right. I’ll pour, but you have ta do your own doctorin’. My teeth hurt just watchin’." He got down the sugar bowl and held it out to Vin, who was limping toward him. "Will a spoon do, or should I just get a shovel?"

"Nobody likes a smart-ass," Vin growled, taking the bowl with a glare at Larabee.

"It’s always so sad when the honeymoon ends," Buck sighed, turning back to his pancake batter.

Chris turned and leaned against the counter, staring at Buck so he wouldn’t have to see just how much sugar Vin put into his coffee. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Buck shrugged as he ladled generous dollops of batter onto the griddle. "I just hate to see any good romance hit rocky times."

Chris bristled visibly. "Buck–"

"Why," the big man went on, feeling the glare burning between his shoulder blades but ignoring it, "the way you two were cozied up in bed last night, I just figured maybe what folks at the office have been sayin’ was true. You boys sure did look cute together."

"Bet ya wish ya’d given me that gun now," Vin said, raising his mug to his lips and sipping from it.

"We were not sleepin’ together!" Chris ground out through gritted teeth. "We were just… sleepin’ in the same bed…"

"You say ‘to-may-to,’ I say ‘to-mah-to,’" Buck crooned. "But I reckon these one-night stands never do last. And Junior is a bit young for ya. Not ta mention scrawny. And then there’s that whole ‘supervisor-subordinate’ thing to worry about. Well," he amended, "not that Vin’s ever really gotten that ‘subordinate’ thing straight anyway."

"Big gun," Vin put in calmly. ".45 automatic. Makes a right nice hole."

"But, then, I guess when a fella’s been outta the game as long as you have, mistakes are bound ta happen," Buck sighed sadly. "I just hope it don’t ruin y’all’s friendship. Y’know, these breakups can get so ugly."

"’Course, at this distance a .38 might be better," Vin said thoughtfully. "Won’t leave quite so big a mess. Ain’t like I could miss any vital organs, even with m’ hand all cut up."

Chris almost lost an eye trying to shift his glare back and forth between Tanner and Wilmington, both of whom seemed determined to drive him crazy. Then he turned it upon Josiah, who had yet to enter or even acknowledge the increasingly bizarre conversation, who seemed not even to know it was taking place.

"Aren’t you gonna say anything?" he demanded hotly, desperately needing an infusion of sanity. "JOSIAH!" he shouted when the older man ignored him.

Sanchez startled at that, then looked up at Chris and smiled. Reaching down to his belt, he turned off the Walkman, then removed the headphones. "Mornin’, boss," he greeted brightly. "Somethin’ I can do for ya?"

Chris stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell are you listenin’ to?"

Josiah laid his paper on the table and sat back in his chair, his face serene. "Sounds of the South American rain forest. Very soothing. Clears the mind." He studied Chris for a few minutes and arched a brow. "You might give it a try. Get that blood pressure down."

"Oh, don’t mind him," Buck said, flipping pancakes onto a platter with an expert flourish. "He’s just upset ’cause him and Vin broke up."

"We did not break–"

"Office romances," Josiah breathed mournfully, shaking his head sadly. "They just never work."

"We are not–"

"Mebbe if I had my crossbow…"

Chris blinked, then turned slowly to Vin. "You… have a crossbow?"

Vin regarded him placidly. "Sure do. I got it–"

"No!" Chris interrupted sharply, holding up a hand. "I don’t wanta know. The less I know about your personal arsenal, the better I sleep. Just like Ezra and his stock tips. I’m a firm believer in ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’"

"See?" Buck asked softly with a sage nod at Josiah. "I told ya so."

Chris rounded on Wilmington next. "One more word outta you, ol’ pard, and you get ta feed Peso."

Buck shrank back against the wall, his eyes widening with horror. "You wouldn’t do that ta me! Last time I had ta feed that alligator, he damn near made a meal outta me!"

"’At’s my horse yer talkin’ about there, Bucklin," Vin warned softly.

"That animal ain’t no horse, son!" Buck declared hotly, remembering all the times he and the spirited gelding had tangled. "He’s some hell-spawned demon-seed sent here ta kill us all. Hell, he’d make a rabid rattler look sociable!"

"All right, that’s it! Gimme a gun, Larabee!" Vin demanded, glaring furiously at Buck. "I’ve done heard all I’m gonna take. He’s got no call insultin’ Peso like that…"

Chris looked pleadingly at Josiah for help, but Sanchez merely smiled, turned the Walkman back on and slipped the headphones over his ears, settling back into the soothing sounds of the rain forest. Chris bitterly hoped that an anaconda ate every bird on the damn tape.

"Now look here, Vin, that damn man-eater–"

"No, you look here! Mebbe Peso is a mite techy at times, but that don’t mean I gotta listen ta you call him names…"

Chris smelled something burning and looked over to the stove, where pancakes sat forgotten on the griddle. With a shrug, he poured more coffee into his mug, then picked it up and stepped out of the line of fire between Vin and Buck. He doubted they’d come to blows, but he thought it better not to take any chances. Pancakes smoldered while the argument raged, and he felt a sudden urge for a smoke. Certain that everyone knew where he kept the fire extinguisher, he left the kitchen and headed toward the porch, smiling to himself.

Just another day in paradise…

7~7~7~7

Chris hitched a shoulder against the barn door and gazed out toward the corral, smiling. They’d managed to salvage breakfast after all, with Josiah quelling the argument between Vin and Buck before they came to blows and the kitchen went up in flames. While Josiah and Buck had cleaned up the aftermath, Chris and Vin had come out to tend the horses. With Vin watching from a safe distance, Chris had fed and watered Pony and Peso, then had turned them out into the corral while he mucked out their stalls. Vin had followed the horses, waving resignedly in response to Chris’s order that he stay on this side of the fence.

And now Chris watched, amazed at what he was seeing. Where he usually would have been running around the corral with Pony, delighting in his freedom from his hated stall, Peso was instead standing placidly at the fence, his big head hanging over within easy reach of Vin’s hands. Vin stood before him, long fingers scratching behind the black’s silky ears and down his glossy neck, one cheek resting against the blazed face. Man and horse looked utterly content; Peso was damn near purring.

Chris shook his head in wonderment. He knew that Peso could easily snap Vin in half just now, but recognized that the feisty gelding had absolutely no intention of doing it. Despite his faults – and God knew he had a shitload of ’em – Peso was a deeply intuitive animal and could read Vin as few humans could. He always seemed to know when Vin was in no mood or condition to tolerate his usual antics, seemed to sense when Vin simply didn’t have the strength to engage in their familiar fighting, and instinctively curbed his high spirits accordingly. Right now, Vin looked fragile enough to shatter in a stiff wind. And right now, Peso was willingly lending the strength and steadiness Tanner lacked in himself.

That horse was the goddamnedest thing Larabee had ever seen.

He shook his head slowly, chuckling under his breath, and started toward the corral. As he drew closer, he could hear Vin speaking softly, and could hear Peso whickering low as if in response. Somewhere along the line, the two skittish, half-wild creatures had found a connection that beat anything Chris had ever seen.

"He’s missed you," he said quietly, setting a booted foot on the lower rail of the fence. "I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen him just standing here at the fence and looking for you, wondering when you were gonna show up. And I’d swear that a couple of times he was thinkin’ seriously about breakin’ out and goin’ to look for you."

"Missed him, too," Vin breathed, lifting his face from Peso’s and lovingly stroking the velvety nose. "I’d almost forgot how good it feels jist ta be with him…" He turned to Chris. "I ’preciate ya lettin’ me come out here. I mean, I know I ain’t much use to ya right now, but still… I’m obliged."

Chris studied his friend for long moments. Vin’s blue eyes were wide and clear, empty of all shadows, and his face, though still pale, was open and relaxed. He could feel the peace in the younger man, the contentment, and knew he’d found one means of therapy he could provide.

"You’re welcome to come out here with me whenever you feel up to it," he said at last. "I figure you need all the normalcy you can get. Your life’s been torn apart, everything you’ve ever taken for granted has been turned on its head… Right now you need something sure, something familiar." He shrugged. "Even if it’s just a little thing like this."

Vin shook his head slightly, his mouth twisting into a wry grimace. "Ain’t sure there are any ‘little things’ right now," he sighed. "I kinda feel like I’m standin’ in front a’ one a’ them mirrors in the funhouse, the one that makes ever’thing look bigger’n it really is. Mountains are higher, valleys are deeper, an’ ever’ little struggle’s a major damn battle."

"Yeah, but every little triumph is a major damn victory, too," Chris assured him. "And when you get to the top of the mountain, you can look back and see just how far you’ve come." He leaned forward, set a firm hand on Vin’s shoulder and peered intently into his eyes. "And you have come a long way," he said quietly. "I know it may not seem like it, but you have. We all keep talkin’ about how much further you’ve got to go, but every now and then, Vin, you just have to stop and take stock of where you are, and remind yourself how far and how hard you’ve struggled to get here. You’re doin’ fine, pard. Against greater odds than a truly just fate would’ve given you, you’re doin’ just fine."

Vin gave a small, shy smile, grateful for the words, but even more grateful for the feeling behind them. The hand on his shoulder infused him with warmth and strength, and the certainty in those green eyes lent him a confidence he’d not felt in a very long time.

"Reckon I am doin’ all right," he drawled softly. "’Least fer now."

Chris squeezed his shoulder and smiled. "For now is all we can ask for, partner. We take this one minute at a time, one step at a time. We work on the here and now, and let the rest take care of itself."

Vin nodded once, then grinned. "Well, here’n now, I b’lieve I’d like another cup a’ coffee, an’ mebbe ta rest this knee some."

Chris frowned slightly. "The brace helpin’ at all?"

Vin chuckled. "Well, seein’ as how I’m still upright instead a’ pitched flat on my ass, I’d have ta say yeah. But that don’t mean it ain’t hurtin’ like a sonuvabitch."

Chris sighed and shook his head. "You couldn’t say somethin’?"

"I jist did," Vin said innocently.

"Goddamn hard-headed Texan," Larabee grumbled, scowling at the younger man. "All right, let’s get you inside before you do fall. Then we’re gonna dig out that list of exercises the physical therapist sent home and see what we have ta do ta get you walkin’ right again. I don’t plan on carryin’ your skinny ass around for the rest of my life."

Vin cocked his head and shot him an insolent grin. "Ya worried that folks’ll talk?"

"Hell, no," Chris growled. "I’m just worried they’ll think I couldn’t get a better-lookin’ date than you."