They rode to the meadow in a deep, intimate silence, Vin leading the way, Chris content to follow. The afternoon sun poured down upon them with a glorious warmth, while the cerulean sky stretched above them in a vast, shining canopy, its brilliance almost painful to behold. A light, lively breeze danced about them, keeping the day from becoming uncomfortably warm and carrying upon it the rich, sweet perfume of countless wild flowers.

Chris gazed about in wonder. He hadn't been out here in more than a month, since before spring rains and a kind sun had brought forth this explosion of color and fragrance from the earth. Flowers everywhere, of every hue and description, their vibrant blooms mingling with the lush green of long grass to turn the meadow into a living rainbow. The flowers and grasses waved and whispered in the breeze in a constant susurrus that, with the riot of jewel-bright color about him and the heavy perfume that filled the air, gave the day a strangely dream-like quality. His vision began to grow fuzzy at the edges, and then to tunnel, and he found it increasingly difficult to hold on to a steady stream of thought. Only by focusing on Vin could he maintain any sort of balance.

Now, as so many times before, Vin Tanner was his lifeline.

So he fixed his eyes, his mind, his soul on Vin, and marveled anew at the vision before him. Tanner sat Peso with a slouched, flowing ease, hands loose on the reins, spurs never touching the glistening black flanks, horse and rider moving together in an intuitive, fluid rhythm. Now and again, Vin lifted his face to the sky, searching it with eyes every bit as blue and every bit as brilliant as that gleaming breadth, then would close his eyes and sniff the air, not with any hint of wariness, but as if he were simply trying to breathe this day with all its beauty into himself. Or he would lean over in his saddle, low to one side, and grab a handful of flowers, then right himself without ever breaking Peso's stride. He would bury his face in the blooms and breathe deeply, would twist them into Peso's bridle or simply throw them up and shower himself in a rain of flowers, laughing as they hit his face or stuck in his hair.

Chris watched the displays of open, childlike pleasure, and fell in love all over again.

At last they reached their destination, and Chris immediately recognized it as one of Vin's favorite haunts. It was the high point of the meadow, with a small, clear creek lined by tall pines and towering aspens to the east, a gentle downward slope of still more flower-covered ground to the north and south, and to the west, in the distance, the sharp crags of white mountain peaks. And not for as far as the eye could see in any direction was there the smallest sign of civilization, the slightest hint that they were not the only two people on earth.

The rest of the world had simply gone away.

Without a word, Vin dismounted and stripped his gear from Peso, then stood back to let the big horse roll. And roll he did, long and vigorously, with low grunts and snorts of sheer pleasure. Chris did the same for Pony, and soon the two men were standing, arms twined about each other, watching and laughing and tossing flowers onto their happily writhing mounts.

Then Vin turned and, the horses forgotten, pulled Chris to him and claimed his lover's mouth with his own. He reached up, shoved the black hat off Chris's head and thrust his fingers into sweat-damp strands of golden hair while his lips moved slowly, hungrily against the man's and his tongue sought entrance into his mouth.

Chris groaned and melted against Vin, closing his arms about the younger man and holding tightly to him, his lips trembling and parting beneath his lover's onslaught. His soul rose sharply at the taste of Vin, at the feel and scent of him, and he shuddered as the familiar thrill of love and longing shot through him. Fire ignited in his blood, and seared straight to his groin.

Vin plundered Chris's mouth with his own, kissing him with a slow and devastating thoroughness, sucking or nipping sharply at wet, swollen lips, sweeping his tongue against the hard ridges of teeth or letting it twine and twirl with Chris's in a sensuous dance. He raked his fingers through the thick wealth of Larabee's blond hair, down the long column of his neck and over his powerful shoulders and back, delighting in the hardness of the lean body pressed so tightly against him. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed, when he was with Chris, and he wanted to teach this man that same forgetfulness.

"Wantcha ta let go of ever'thing but me," he whispered, twining his fingers into the strands of Larabee's hair and gently pulling the man's head back. Gazing intently, deeply, into Chris's green eyes, his own so blue as to be almost black, he slid a hand slowly down the side of Larabee's head, along his jaw and down his throat until his fingers came to rest on that quickening pulse. "Don't think of nothin' but me, don't see nothin' but me, don't hear nothin' but me. In all this whole, wide world right now, there ain't nothin' and nobody but you 'n me."

Chris was hypnotized by those bottomless eyes, by that soft, gravelly drawl, by the warmth and beauty of the man in his arms. He drew a breath, caught a whiff of the leather, soap and musk that was Vin, then leaned forward and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply of his lover. And then there was nothing but Vin.

Vin's low voice murmuring against him, Vin's mouth moving slowly over him, Vin's hands slipping into his black duster and sliding it from him. Vin's tongue dancing lightly over the shell of his ear, Vin's fingers running through his hair and down his back, Vin's body setting his on fire.

"Oh, God!" he whispered shakily as his knees started to buckle.

"Don't worry, cowboy, I gotcha," Vin whispered. And, indeed, his arms closed about Larabee and held him up until he could stand on his own. "I won't ever letcha fall, Chris. I give ya my word on that."

Chris's answer was an incoherent mumble. He was dizzy, disoriented, felt drunk, but knew he was drunk on Vin. The Texan's voice sounded so far away, yet his warm, tight body was so close, its touch burning through Chris like a fever. He was breathing fast and hard, and every breath brought the scent and taste of Vin sweeping through him, his lover's musk mingled with the rich, sweet perfume of a million flowers. He felt fingers moving against his chest, unbuttoning his shirt, and he did nothing to resist, merely stood still, silent, and closed his eyes, breathing in his earthy lover.

Vin slid the shirt from Chris and let it fall to the ground, then just as easily stripped off the T-shirt beneath. Stepping closer, he pressed his palms to Larabee's naked chest and slid them slowly over the smooth, warm skin, stroking lightly, tenderly, then bowed his head and followed the progress of his hands with his mouth.

Chris shuddered and gasped as those hands and that mouth claimed him for their own, as callused fingers scraped gently over his nipples and brought them to aching awareness. Then a tongue -- Jesus, that tongue! -- lapped lightly at each nipple in turn, tracing swirls against the taut, swollen buds while hot breath fanned against his skin. His every nerve was on screaming, jagged edge, his blood boiling and pounding through his veins, his cock throbbing and straining against his jeans. Yet, though pain coursed through every part of him, he could not imagine a sweeter, more exquisite torment.

"Oh, God!" he gasped, seemingly able to say nothing else.

"Ssh, hush, cowboy," Vin purred, returning his mouth to Larabee's. "No words. Don't need no words between us." He sucked gently at Chris's lower lip and slid his hands to the waist of the man's jeans, slowly working the buttons loose. Now and then he had to slip an arm about Chris and hold him up when the older man sagged weakly against him, but, despite Chris's greater weight, never once did he let him fall.

Chris groaned harshly and trembled uncontrollably as those long, skilled fingers worked with a maddening slowness against his swollen, aching cock. Sweat bathed his flesh in a glistening sheen and soaked into his hair, and his breath tore from him in ragged, heaving gasps. Vin's taste and scent assailed him from every side, and the feel of those hands and that lean body drove shards of agony into his flesh. Yet not for any treasure on earth would he have forgone a single moment of this sweet torture.

At last Vin had the jeans open and, as Chris's erection sprang free, he brushed his fingers in a feather-light dance over the hard, thick flesh. Chris's knees buckled at that, but, before he could fall, Vin caught him and eased him gently to the ground, laying him down as he had promised on a carpet of flowers. He quickly stripped Larabee of boots, jeans and briefs, then, giving him no time to think, to recover, to regroup, he leaned over Chris and claimed the man's mouth once more with his own. He wanted Chris like this, reduced to his most basic, instinctive level, wanted the man to know the same exquisite freedom from all earthly chains that he never ceased to inspire in him.

Chris groaned harshly and shuddered as that mouth, those hands, again attacked his already overwrought body, as tongue and fingers roamed over every inch of him, as he was licked, stroked, kissed, fondled and bitten on every part of his body. Then Vin's mouth was at his belly, at his groin, his tongue lapping at his flesh and sliding slowly, slowly against his twitching cock, snaking up its length, tracing the long, thick vein and dancing against its blunt, burning head. Chris dug his fingers into the ground, his head thrashing from side to side, his body trembling, jerking, his breath tearing from him in sharp, wordless cries.

Vin licked and sucked at the twitching cock, swept his mouth again and again over its length, tongued the purpling head and weeping slit. Then he licked his way back down and slid his tongue over Chris's balls, licking and kissing the full, heavy sacs, paying each worshipful homage in turn. He took them in his mouth and sucked at them, released them and blew against them, then took them once more into his mouth and began to hum.

"GOD!" Chris shrieked as that vibration sent sparks shooting through his every nerve. He arched his back and reached frantically for his rigid, straining cock, only to have his hands imprisoned in his lover's. Vin held Chris's hands and freed his balls, then slid his tongue slowly down to the tight, puckered hole behind them. He kissed it, licked it, blew against and pressed his tongue into it, his actions never hurried, and all the more shattering for their slowness. For long moments he played there, savoring the taste and scent of this man, taking them deep into himself and feeling his own arousal building. He found the crease at the junction of thigh and groin and sucked there, then slid his mouth along the inner thigh and nipped sharply with his teeth at the tender flesh. His hands, meanwhile, returned to Chris's thick, twitching cock, and his long fingers stroked and caressed it with a searing tenderness.

Chris was panting, gasping, sobbing, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel. He was in agony, in ecstasy, his whole body reduced to a powerful, pounding ache. He needed, he needed, but he could not express what he needed. He was drowning in the wildfire that was Vin's love.

But Vin knew what he needed, knew it was time to end his torment. Reaching once more for Chris's hands and entwining their fingers, he lifted his head and took the man's tortured flesh into his mouth.

Chris howled and bucked wildly as that hot mouth engulfed him, as Vin's nimble tongue swirled against him, as the man sucked hungrily at him. Then Vin once more began to hum, and fire shot down Chris' spine in jagged streaks, tearing another anguished cry from him. He clutched at Vin's hands and thrust frantically into his mouth, his whole body consumed in flames. Vin intensified his sucking and Chris shrieked again, then erupted with a shattering force.

Vin caught the hot stream as it jetted forth, swallowing rapidly and sucking ravenously, then freed one hand to knead and milk Chris's balls for still more. He drank in the seed as if it were the very essence of life, making his lover a part of himself. And when at last Chris was empty, he let the softened flesh slip from his mouth and slid himself up Larabee's body to reclaim his mouth, sharing with Chris what he had just shared with him.

Larabee groaned weakly and closed trembling arms about that lean, hard body, shaken to his soul by this man's effect on him. No one, not even Sarah, had ever reduced him to such utter helplessness; with her, he'd always maintained some vestige of control. But Vin's passion was like a firestorm, searing everything in its path to ash and leaving Chris Larabee in charred and smoldering ruin.

And, God, God, how Chris loved him for it!

Then Vin's mouth was gone, and Chris gave a hard, wrenching sob of abandonment. Vin's warmth lifted from him, and he forced his eyes open, staring up through his tears at the form that loomed above him.

Vin was standing upright, arms loose at his sides, long hair blowing in the breeze, and he gazed down through dark blue eyes shot through with light. He was not touching Chris in any way, yet even so Larabee could feel the heat emanating from him, could feel the pounding of his heart and the throbbing of his blood through the ground they shared, could smell him on the breeze that danced about them. And he understood then what Vin had said earlier, that no distance could part them, because they were truly one.

"Oh, God, Vin!" he breathed, his soul again flooding with wonder.

Vin smiled down at his lover, and began to undress. Slowly, though, very slowly, not a movement rushed, not a moment wasted. He slid his jacket back and let it fall from him, then trailed long fingers slowly down the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one at a time. When the shirt was open, he shrugged slowly out of it and held it by two fingers at its collar, letting the wind carry it from his hands. His long-sleeved T-shirt was next, and, with a cross of arms and a slow flex of sinewy muscles, he pulled it over his head and let the breeze have it, as well. He toed off his boots, kicked them aside, and started on his jeans. Chris sat up and watched him, hypnotized by his slow movements, by his flowing, fluid grace, by the beauty of his lithe, lean body. Yet, though every part of this man was familiar to him, though he knew Vin's body better than he knew his own, though he knew -- or thought he'd known -- him in his every aspect, he realized now that this was a part of Vin he'd never seen before. Gone without a trace was the younger man's shyness, his modesty, his reserve, given way to an unashamed, almost brazen, delight in himself, his surroundings, and the feel of his lover's gaze upon him.

This was Vin as he'd been born to be, a wild creature in his native habitat, a hawk let off his leash.

Vin stared down at Chris without speaking, his eyes bluer than the sky, his whole being radiating a deep serenity and a power that seemed to have its source in the very earth about him. Slowly he raised his hands and ran them through his hair, shaking his head and tousling the long golden-brown locks until they danced freely in the breeze. Then he let his head fall back, held out his arms again and spread his long legs, offering himself in his nakedness to the kisses and caresses of sunlight and wind. When he'd felt them on every part of his body, he brought his arms back to his sides and dropped to a crouch with a feline grace, grabbed two handfuls of flowers and pulled them up, then rose once more to his feet. And, with a sudden and wild exuberance, he tossed them all into the air and spun under them as they rained down upon him, laughing delightedly as they cascaded over his body in a shower of color and fragrance.

Tears slid down Chris's face as he gazed in wonder at the exquisite display before him. God in heaven, had there ever been a more beautiful sight?

Vin saw those tears, frowned slightly at them and canted his head to one side, his blue eyes going darker still. Concerned that he'd unintentionally brought some pain upon his lover, he went slowly to him, his steps whispering through the flowers, his gaze never leaving Chris's face. Still frowning, he went to his knees at Chris's side and reached out, wiping the tears away with a slender forefinger. Then he bent close and pressed his mouth to Chris's in a breathtakingly tender kiss.

"Don't cry, cowboy," he whispered against Larabee's mouth. "I didn't mean ta hurt ya."

Chris reached up and ran a shaking hand through his lover's thick hair, pulling away slightly and smiling softly at the sight of several blooms stuck in the glowing tresses. "You didn't hurt me," he breathed, lovingly stroking the young man's long, slim throat, his green eyes soft and deep. "I just... You were... are... so beautiful..." He cupped Vin's cheek in his hand, and smiled more broadly when Tanner nuzzled his face into that touch. "God, how I love you! And watching you... For those few minutes, every ugly, hurtful thing in the world just disappeared, and there was only you in all your wild beauty. You did it, Vin," he said in wonder, "you actually took me away."

A slow smile of deepest delight spread across Vin's face, and joy and love lit his eyes with a brilliant glow. "I ain't finished yet," he said in his low, raspy drawl, reaching up to take Chris's hand. "I wantcha, cowboy," he breathed, pressing Chris's hand to his stiffening cock. "I wantcha here and now, with God and all his wonders lookin' on."

Chris leaned forward and kissed Vin softly. "Got God's greatest wonder right here," he murmured against that warm, sweet mouth. "And God knows I want you."

Vin smiled and kissed him back, worshiping at Larabee's mouth with his own. At the same time, he pressed his hands to Chris' shoulders and gently pushed him back, laying him down once more upon a bed of flowers and covering his body with his own.

Chris groaned in pleasure and twined his arms about that sinewy body, stroking Vin's shoulders and back, delighting in the ripple of lithe muscles beneath smooth, warm flesh. Then Vin began to move slowly, slowly against him, pressing his crotch into Chris's and rubbing his cock against the man's belly, reigniting the hunger that was never long dormant between them.

Soon they were clutching at each other and writhing together in the agony of arousal, mouths joining in searing, savage kisses, hands stroking, kneading, clawing, their need pounding through them with an elemental ferocity. Vin's wildness awoke an answering one in Chris, stripped him of reason and restraint and reduced him to a primal frenzy. And all at once, with nothing to hold him back, he was flying, sweeping high aloft on the hot, pulsing currents shooting around and through him, given wings by the man who loved him.

Vin tore his mouth from Chris's with a low, hoarse growl and scraped his teeth against Larabee's chin, then attacked that always tempting neck. He licked and kissed his way down the long column, reached the flesh at the junction of neck and shoulder and sank his teeth into it, biting sharply and sucking hungrily, marking this man as his. He did the same on the other side, heedless of Chris's pained howl, and all the while thrust his hips frantically, grinding himself into Chris.

Pain and pleasure flooded Chris in fiery waves as Vin unleashed the full force of his passion. Suddenly the Texan's mouth was at one of his nipples, sucking ravenously, and Chris buried his hands in the tangled wealth of hair, gripping Vin's head and guiding that ferocious mouth over his body, pressing it to every spot on himself that craved its attention. He was panting, moaning, writhing, his entire being swept by the firestorm that was Vin Tanner.

"God... Vin... need you!" he gasped in pain as Tanner's hard, thick cock sawed against his and sent lightning jolting through him. "Now, pard... please... gotta have ya... Jesus, Vin, I need ya inside me!"

Tanner growled, snarled, and bit deeply into Larabee's pectoral, raking his fingernails down the man's sides. Then, with another growl, he thrust himself from his lover and to his feet, stalking cat-like to his discarded jacket and dropping to a crouch beside it. For several moments, he rummaged through the pockets, his breath tearing from him in fast, ragged gasps. He found what he sought, sprang to his feet with a hiss, then pounced anew on his lover.

"Jesus!" Chris yelped as that mouth, those hands, returned to him. "God, Vin, you... God, VIN!" he howled as the hot mouth closed suddenly about his cock and proceeded to try and suck his soul out through it.

But Tanner was in too much pain himself to prolong his attack. He was all hunger, like a predator who'd gone too long between feedings, and his prey was so close he could feel his hot blood pumping against him. Chris was his, all his, and he'd have him now, or die in the trying.

Trembling from the effort, he pulled his mouth from Chris's cock and raised himself on his knees between Larabee's legs, fighting the powerful urge to drive himself into the man at that moment. Panting and shaking, beyond the power of speech, he lifted Chris's legs and got beneath them, absently stroking the hard thighs as he lowered them into place. Then he snatched up the tube he'd taken from his jacket, wrenched off the top and squeezed a generous amount of thick, scented oil into his palm. Dropping the tube, he coated his hands and, biting his lip as he still fought for restraint, slid one oiled finger over the crease between Chris's balls and slipped it into the opening behind them.

Chris stiffened and cried out hoarsely as that finger entered and began to play inside him. It slid in deep, then pulled out to the tip and massaged the tight muscle ring. Then it dipped in again and brushed against his gland, tearing another sharp cry from him.

Oh, God, Vin was killing him!

Vin was in no better shape himself. As he slid in a second finger, he closed his other hand about his own cock and began stroking, coating it with oil, and nearly came on the spot. Chris was so close, his heat and scent wrapping around him, and his body was reacting as it always did to the lure of his lover. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the sweat pouring from him, and a single, strangled sob tore from him.

Lord God, he needed!

He pressed in a third finger, working and stretching Chris, his cock weeping heavily. Then, with a shuddering gasp, he withdrew his hand and leaned forward, pressing his hard shaft against and carefully into that beckoning opening.

Chris shrieked and bucked wildly as Vin entered him, as the man's hard, hot flesh penetrated his body, as the familiar pain engulfed him at the intrusion. But strong hands clamped firmly onto his hips, holding him in place, and he bit his lip and waited for the pain to pass, waited for the need to take over.

And it did. "God, Vin... move!" he gasped hoarsely.

With a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, Vin slid further inside, sheathing himself in Chris. Moist heat surrounded him, engulfed him, and intensified the heat pounding through his own flesh. The tight, narrow channel closed about him and pulled him ever deeper, accepting -- welcoming -- him, until he and Chris were as much one in body as they were in soul. He pushed in, pulled out to his head, then slid in again, burying himself in Chris and almost sobbing from the mind-bending pleasure of it. He wanted to go slowly at first, but, as ever, found his restraint short-lived. The pleasure of losing himself, of loosing himself, in Chris was simply too great for him to hold back from it, and he thrust ever more desperately into the man's molten fire.

Chris's breath tore from him in short, sharp cries as Vin drove through him with an elemental fury, filling him, consuming him, shattering him and making him whole. He rocked frantically against his lover, wanting, needing, to drive him deeper still, to feel this man in every part of himself. Then Vin's hand closed about his aching cock, stroking and pumping in time with his thrusts into him, and Chris howled in mindless pleasure. No longer capable of control, he merely let himself go, gave himself in his entirety to his lover, into his lover's keeping.

And all at once they were moving in perfect unison, two bodies joined as one, hearts beating in the same rhythm, two souls uniting into a perfect whole. Harder, harder they loved, coming together with a fierce and frantic urgency, swept by rising flames and scoured by burning winds, yet finding refuge, finding safety, in each other. Joined in ways so much more profound than the merely physical, they held onto each other and, given faith and freedom by their love, took wing and soared together.

Vin drove into Chris, slammed again and again against his gland and pumped furiously at his cock, driven almost to madness by his need. Chris thrust desperately against him, impaling himself upon his lover and straining into that hand, his overwrought body demanding relief. Their harsh, wordless cries mingled on the breeze as they surged together and as they exploded as one into their climax. Vin's seed erupted into Chris, and Chris's essence spurted over him and Vin, the two men emptying themselves and offering all they had to each other. And even when it was done, still they clung together, bodies spent and shaking, the two collapsing in an exhausted tangle of arms and legs.

Vin fell forward onto Chris and Chris held him as tightly as his rubbery arms would allow. Each could hear and feel the other's heartbeat, his rapid breathing, could smell sweat and the pungent tang of their lovemaking, and let all these familiar, beloved things bring them back to earth.

Yet even so, though he felt the hardness of the ground beneath him and the solid weight of his lover atop him, still some part of Chris remained above, drifting lazily on the breeze. He smiled and closed his eyes, tightened his arms about Vin...

And remembered how it had felt to fly.

+ + + + + + +

The two men sat together and watched in silent awe as the setting sun sank slowly beneath the horizon and left a fiery riot of color in its wake. Streaks of crimson, orange, purple and pink blazed across the vast canopy, swirling together, edges melding and melting into each other until there was no distinguishing one from the other.

Like the two men who witnessed from below.

Chris sat against his saddle, and Vin nestled between his legs, the younger man's back pressed against his chest, that tousled head resting against his shoulder. Chris's arms were wrapped around Vin, Vin's arms twined into Chris's, their fingers laced together. The only sound between them was their gentle breathing, and love flowed from and around them, binding them ever more closely together. The chill of coming night was seeping into the air but, for now, their closeness was enough to keep them warm.

Chris rested a cheek against Vin's head and closed his eyes, smiling softly, contentedly. And, God, how new that feeling still was to him! He'd had it once, with Sarah, but it had been ripped from his soul by her death and he'd sworn he'd never know it again, couldn't know it again, because contentment itself had died with her.

And, for three long, agonizing, horrible years, it had been a stranger to him. His soul, instead, had become home to chaos, to confusion, to pain and rage, had grown as black as a night with neither moon nor stars, an endless, suffocating night with no hope ever of being touched by the light of day. A cold and achingly empty place drained of all life, of even the memory of life.

Until the man in his arms had sauntered in and, with a single glance from those astonishingly blue eyes, banished the darkness, had flung open the doors and admitted light, had brought back sun and moon and stars and breathed life and love into Chris Larabee. And done it all with a breathtaking ease, as if he'd been created and sent for that very purpose. Was doing it still.

Had done it again this afternoon.

"How did you know?" he whispered at last, shifting his gaze from the sunset to the man who'd become all his sunrises. "How did you know I needed you?"

Vin turned slightly in Chris's arms, lifted his gaze to his lover's face and raised a hand to his cheek. "Cody Miller called," he said softly, his eyes sad. Miller was the sharpshooter on Mac Peters's team. "Told me what'd happened, said they'd found Mac..." His gaze searched Chris's and saw the flicker of pain in the green eyes. "I figgered Travis'd call you in, since you been knee-deep in it fer so long, and I knew what it'd do t' ya. Seen what it's been doin' these last two weeks." He lightly stroked Chris's cheek, his touch one of deepest love. "So, knowin' how ya'd feel, I figgered my place was with you."

Chris laid his hand over Vin's to still the long fingers and gazed into those infinite blue eyes, wanting nothing more than to drown in them. "I can't tell you how relieved I was when I pulled up and saw your Jeep and knew you were there. I hadn't realized until that moment just how much I needed you, how empty everything's been without you this past week." He smiled slightly. "I'd already made up my mind ta call you and make it right between us. I was all ready to get down on my knees and beg."

Vin winced and shook his head slowly. "I'd never make ya do that, Chris," he protested softly, "you know that."

Chris gave a short laugh. "Maybe I was plannin' on makin' myself do it. Y'know, punishment for havin' been stupid enough ta drive you away in the first place--"

Vin turned and rose on his knees before Chris, laying two fingers over his lips to silence him. "You didn't drive me away, cowboy," he breathed. "But ain't neither one of us been thinkin' real clear lately, and, after that fight, I figgered we both needed some time and space ta get our heads together." He frowned worriedly. "You ain't been thinkin' all this time that ya lost me, have ya?" He saw by Chris's expression that he had, and immediately took the older man in his arms, holding tightly to him. "Lord God, Larabee," he sighed, "what'm I gonna do with you? After all this time, you suddenly think you c'n git ridda me that easy? Damnation, cowboy, I thought you knew me better'n that!"

Chris gave a shaky laugh and clung to Vin as if his life depended on it. Which, he realized, it probably did. "Like you said," he breathed unsteadily, "I ain't been thinkin' real clear lately. Not since this whole mess with Mac started."

Vin tightened his arms about Chris. "But it's over now," he murmured. Then, struck by another thought, he asked, "You do know that what happened wasn't your fault, right?"

Chris grimaced deeply and shook his head. "I should've seen it comin'."

"You bein' psychic 'n all," Vin retorted dryly.

Chris pulled abruptly out of Tanner's arms and stared angrily at him. "Damn it, Vin, I should have known! I looked into that man's eyes every day for two weeks, and what I saw in them was so familiar it was terrifying! I should've known what he was gonna do, because I've wanted ta do the same thing so many times myself--"

"Wanted to, yeah," Vin said calmly, settling back and sitting cross-legged, and gazing steadily up at Chris. "But wantin' to ain't the same as doin'. Hell, I know lotsa folks who've wanted to, and most of 'em's still walkin' around. Shit, there's been a few times I've wanted to, and I'm still here. So how were you s'posed ta know that Mac was gonna be one'a the ones that crosses that line from wantin' to inta doin'? He give you some kinda secret signal?"

Larabee exhaled sharply and frowned tightly. "Vin--"

"Chris." He stared at his lover for several moments, as if waiting, then prompted, "Serve's back ta you, cowboy." He smirked slightly. "Wanta try fer another 'damn-it-Vin' or mebbe a 'goddamn-it-Tanner'? We ain't had one'a them lately, 'n I'm kinda startin' ta miss it."

Chris sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to hold onto his anger and irritated that he couldn't. "Anybody ever tell you what an infuriatin' sonuvabitch you are?" he asked in a low, tired voice.

Vin gave his cocky, crooked grin. "Seems I've heard it a time 'r two." He leaned forward, bracing an elbow on one knee and cupping his chin in that hand, regarding his lover through mild blue eyes. "Don'tcha hate it when that happens?"

Chris glared at him. "When what happens?"

"When I'm right and you cain't fer the life of ya come up with an argument that don't sound desperate or just plain stupid. Must piss you off somethin' fierce."

Chris added a scowl to the glare. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty well used ta that where you're concerned. You seem ta work extra hard at it."

"Nah, you're just an easy target. Don't take much work at all. 'Sides," he reached out and grabbed Chris by the front of his jacket and pulled him forward, "ya wouldn't love me s' much if I behaved all the time." He pressed his mouth to Larabee's in a slow kiss, then pushed Chris away, grinning wickedly at the growl that tore from his lover. "See? You're feelin' better. Already back ta your sweet, snarlin' self."

"C'mere, you," Chris growled, grabbing him and bearing him to the ground, then climbing atop him. Straddling the smaller man and easily pinning him in place, he leaned forward and pulled open Vin's jacket. "We need ta do somethin' about that smart mouth of yours, Tanner," he warned, smiling wickedly as his hands snaked out toward Vin's ribs.

"No... NO!" Vin yelped, trying to twist free, then exploding into laughter as Chris attacked every ticklish spot he had. "No... please... CHRIS!" he gasped between peals, writhing wildly as those strong, sure fingers tormented him mercilessly. "LaraBEE!"

The last escaped as a hoarse, breathless squeak, and Chris laughed aloud. "God, I love that sound!" he crowed in triumphant delight, ceasing his attack. "Best goddamn sharpshooter in the ATF, big bad bounty hunter, former Army sniper, but just tickle him... right... here..." Again, his fingers descended.

"CHRIS!"

"And he squeaks like a damn toy!" He laughed again at the sight of two blue eyes glaring at him from a face twisted into a furious scowl. "And he's purty when he's mad, too!" he teased, mimicking Tanner's drawl.

"All right, ya've had your fun," Vin growled. "Ya gonna lemme up now?"

Chris frowned thoughtfully, then arched a blond brow at him. "You gonna behave?"

Immediately, an impish grin replaced the scowl, and mischief flared in the blue eyes. "You really want me to?" he asked, reaching up to trail a forefinger down the cleft in Larabee's jaw. "Mend my ways 'n all?"

Chris snatched Vin's hand into his own, then brought that finger to his lips and tenderly kissed it. "Not a bit, pard," he breathed, gazing down into those wide and incredibly blue eyes. "I love you just like you are, and I wouldn't change you if I could."

As Chris shifted his weight, Vin sat up slowly, lacing his fingers through Chris's, and circled his other arm about Larabee's neck, searching his lover's eyes with his own. "You know I'll move out t' the ranch someday, cowboy," he said softly, wanting -- needing -- to set right the point that had come between them. "And me not movin' in now don't mean I love ya any less. It's just..." He frowned and tried to think, then sighed sharply and shook his head. "It's hard t' explain."

"I got time," Chris told him. "I got nowhere else ta be, and nobody I'd rather be with."

Vin slipped his other arm about Chris's neck and joined his hands, locking Larabee within his embrace. His eyes were serious, his expression thoughtful. "I been alone, one way or another, near all my life," he began slowly, still not certain of his words, hoping they would come as he needed them. "'N a lotta that time I spent tryin' ta get away from folks who was tryin' ta make me inta what they thought I should be. I never suited 'em the way I was. But now," he gazed steadily up at Chris, and light kindled in his eyes as a slight, soft smile curved about his mouth. "Now I got friends -- hell, family -- that accept me fer who and what I am. And I like that, Chris. I like it a lot. I ain't ever really had that before, 'n I gotta tell ya, it's a right nice feelin' havin' it now."

"I imagine it is," Chris said softly, absently stroking Vin's cheek with his thumb.

"So..." Vin swallowed, wishing words came easier to him, then looked at Chris and realized he'd understand no matter how poorly he said it. "For a little while, at least, I wanta keep my place, and just enjoy bein' me fer a while. I mean, it'd be so easy ta get lost in you... 'N I don't want that. I love ya, Chris, more'n you'll ever know, but I don't wanta lose me in lovin' you. Not since I'm finally realizin' I kinda like who I am." He frowned deeply. "That make any sense?"

Chris laughed softly and kissed him lightly. "Yeah, it does. And I don't want you ta get lost, Vin. I don't want you ta give up a single bit of who you are just ta be with me." He tightened his arms about Tanner's waist and pulled him close, kissing him again. "We got the rest of our lives ta work this out, pard. There's no rush. You take your time, spread your wings and fly. And when you're ready, then you can fly home ta me."

Vin leaned forward and laid his head on Chris's shoulder, closing his eyes and reveling in the warmth and strength of the man who held him so tightly. "I'll always fly home ta you, cowboy," he breathed contentedly, nestling closer. "Don't you know that by now? All's ya gotta do is just open your arms, and I'll fly right to ya ever' time."

Chris gave a sharp, unsteady gasp and crushed Vin to him, bowing his head and burying his face in the wealth of his lover's hair. "I'll be waitin'," he rasped, wondering yet again what power had sent this wild and gentle man into his life. "And for the rest of my life, Vin, I'll be standin' where you can see me, with my arms wide open."