Chris glanced across the cab of the Ram and smiled slightly. Vin had wriggled into his favorite position in the truck, lean body angled into the corner between door and seat and sunk into a loose slouch, long legs draped bonelessly over the edge of the seat, head cradled against the padded rest in a way that make Chris's neck ache just to see.

Goddamn Texan had Jell-O in his spine ...

But at least he was resting. He'd drifted to sleep even before they'd pulled out of the clinic's driveway, exhaustion and ibuprofin kicking in at the same time, and Chris had been relieved. He suspected that his lover had gotten precious little rest last night, when the illness had likely begun its assault upon him. And Tanner, being Tanner, hadn't bothered to call, but had decided to suffer alone.

Damn, they were gonna have to have another talk about that ...

He snorted softly and shook his head at the man's stubborn stoicism. Vin sometimes still had difficulty distinguishing between leaning on others and "bein' a bother." Still couldn't always wrap his mind around the notion that he had people in his life now who truly cared about him and were willing, even eager, to lend him their strength when his own faltered. Still didn't always understand that Larabee's love came without limits or conditions.

Yep, they were definitely gonna have that talk.

The pharmacy loomed just ahead on the right and he turned the big truck into the drive. Not wanting to rouse Vin, he pulled around and headed to the drive-through lane, stopping at the window and picking up the prescription from where it lay beside him on the seat. The clerk greeted him through her microphone as he lowered his window, the metal drawer slid out to him and he dropped the slip of paper into it. The drawer retracted and the clerk retrieved the prescription.

"It'll be about fifteen minutes, sir," she told him as she looked it over. "You can pull over to the side and wait, or come back for it if you've got other things to do."

Chris thought a moment. Fifteen minutes wasn't bad, but he knew himself well enough to realize that it would seem more like an hour if he just sat in this truck and waited. Though he'd had to do an awful lot of that in his life, and done most of it at pharmacies or in hospitals just since the formation of his team, he still hadn't quite perfected it as a skill.

"I'll pull around front," he told her. "I've got a few other things to pick up, too."

When she nodded, he raised his window and drove away from hers, circling the pharmacy and wheeling the truck into a parking space near its door. He shifted it into park and set the brake, but didn't kill the engine. He released his seatbelt and turned in his seat to look at Vin, regretting having to wake him but wanting to spare him the confusion of possibly waking to find himself alone.

Leaning across the seat, he reached out and gently slipped a hand around the back of Tanner's neck, cupping it and squeezing lightly. "Hey, partner," he called quietly, "need you to wake up for a minute."

Vin groaned and stirred slightly, then his long lashes fluttered and his eyelids lifted to reveal two hazy slits of blue. "We home?" he croaked.

Chris smiled and shook his head. "Not yet. We're at the pharmacy to get your medicine. While we're waitin', I need to run in and get a few things. No," he added quickly as Vin pushed himself forward, "you just stay where you are and rest. I'll leave the truck runnin', leave the air on. You go back to sleep. I'll only be gone a few minutes."

Vin nodded and settled back without a word. His eyes slid closed and he slipped back into sleep.

Chris's smile softened and he brought his hand around to stroke the backs of his fingers lightly against Vin's cheek. "That's right, you sleep," he breathed. "I'll take care of everything. Includin' you." He was sorely tempted to move closer and press a kiss to Vin's forehead, but decided a public parking lot probably wasn't the best place for such a display. Instead, he contented himself with tenderly brushing the hair back from his lover's hot cheek. "Back in a few."

He got out of the Ram and briefly considered locking it, but changed his mind, not wanting to have to wake Vin to let him back in. Besides, any idiot who tried to steal the truck with Tanner inside it deserved whatever he got.

The man could give a doberman lessons in going for the throat ...

He went into the pharmacy, grabbed a shopping basket and made mental lists of what he had and which medical stores would need to be replenished from the last time one or more of them had been sick or hurt. Damn, sometimes he thought he should just go ahead and convert the loft bedrooms into a hospital ward. God knew his basement was starting to look like a medical surplus store ...

He'd already decided to take Vin out to the ranch. He needed peace and quiet, not the constant noise of the barrio on a summer weekend. And he needed to be comfortable. The only air conditioning his apartment had came from two window units, two old window units, one in the living room and one in the bedroom. And with the temperature at 97 now and predicted to hit 100 tomorrow and Sunday, one or both could almost be guaranteed to freeze up or blow out. Just like the damned pipes could be counted on to freeze and burst during the winter.

Good thing Vin was a man who liked some predictability in his life ...

He wandered up and down the aisles, grabbing what he needed and dropping it into the basket. He snagged a "family-size" package of ibuprofin, then snorted and took another. "Family-size." Huh. Whoever packaged this stuff didn't know his family or they'd sell it in industrial drums, too. Sometimes he came pretty damned close to just emptying the bottles into Sarah's candy dishes and leaving them out for everyone to help themselves.

Though Ezra would probably prefer his served up on some fancy little cracker ...

He stopped before the array of throat lozenges, confronted by a dilemma. Sugar-free or fully loaded? Vin would probably be popping them like candy, which argued for the sugar-free. But he actually had to take them for them to do any good, and the man could spot the words "sugar-free," "fat-free" and "reduced-calorie" a mile away. One brow would lift, one corner of his mouth would curl into a sneer, and the fight would be on.

Damn. That Tanner still had teeth and didn't weigh three hundred pounds was a constant wonder to Larabee. Too bad Robert Stack was dead. He could've had a field day with that unsolved mystery!

Christ, he'd finally done it. He bowed his head with a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. The scrawny, long-haired, troublesome Texan he loved to distraction but could often quite cheerfully strangle had finally driven him crazy.

Resolving to stop talking to himself, he settled on a package each of sugar-free and teeth-rotting lozenges. If nothing else, he could just leave the sugar-free package out on the coffee table, along with the candy dish full of ibuprofin, to fool Nathan ...

He snapped his fingers at that. He needed salt for that gargle solution. The last time he'd been out at the ranch, Jackson had combed through the cabinets and thrown away every grain of salt he'd found. He'd claimed it was for the good of Larabee's blood pressure, but for the life of him Chris couldn't figure out why the medic would worry about that.

Honestly, it was like the man considered him a candidate for a stroke or something ...

He found the salt and added it to his basket, then thought about what else he might need. Thermometers he had - traditional glass and mercury, electronic, tympanic, even rectal. Just to get his point across. Cold packs, hot packs - had 'em. Throat spray, maybe? He thought a moment, then shook his head. Tanner was the best damn sharpshooter in the ATF, yet still he managed to hit everything except his throat with the stuff.

He was talking to himself again ...

He exhaled heavily and shook his head slowly, then made one last circuit of the store, dropping a few more items into his basket. When he'd finished, he decided to go on back to the pharmacist's counter and see if, by some miracle, they'd filled the prescription already. On his way back there, he passed the small freezer section ...

Then stopped, sighed again, turned around and went back. "Nurse Ruby and her remedies," he muttered under his breath. He glanced at the selection of pints, then rolled his eyes. Who the hell was he kidding? He dropped his gaze to the half-gallon containers at the bottom, thought of the man out in the truck and smiled softly.

Hell, why not?

He opened the freezer door and bent down, selecting a half-gallon of "Double Fudge Brownie Delight" and adding it to his basket. He straightened, let the door close and walked back toward the pharmacist's counter, the smile still on his face.

Maybe he was crazy. But it still beat the hell out of whatever had passed for sanity in the days before Vin Tanner.

Vin slept through the entire drive out to the ranch and woke only when he felt hands working his seatbelt loose. Opening his eyes, he blinked at the sight of the sprawling house before him, then frowned in groggy confusion and turned his head to Chris. "Thought we's goin' back t' my 'partment."

Chris let the belt retract and sat up, smiling slightly at his lover. "Thought maybe you'd rest better out here," he said. He lifted a hand and laid the back of it against Tanner's pale, hot cheek. "You look worn out," he murmured, his smile fading. "Didn't think you needed all the noise of your neighborhood just now."

Vin swallowed and winced as fire seared through his throat. "Reckon mebbe I could use some sleep," he rasped. He closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against Larabee's hand. "Always did say y' got a magic touch," he sighed.

Chris leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. "Think it's you that makes it magic," he whispered. "Now, how 'bout we get you inside and into bed?"

"One a' the guest rooms'll be fine," Vin croaked. "Don't wanta infect ya."

Chris chuckled. "Got news for ya, partner," he said in a low, warm voice, sliding a long forefinger slowly over Tanner's dry lips, "we been breathin' the same air for a while now. If I'm gonna get infected, it's likely already been done."

"Y' don't sound real worried."

"I'm not," Chris said. "I am worried about you, though." He arched a blond brow. "And I think you're doin' way too much talkin' for somebody who sounds like you do." He pulled away from Vin and opened his door. "You hang on and let me come help you out-"

"I c'n walk," Vin protested. "Ain't shot, jist sick."

Chris sighed but knew better than to argue. "Okay. But will you at least wait for me to get around there so I can catch you when you fall?"

Vin pulled together a weak scowl. "Awful damn uppity, ain'tcha, cowboy?"

"So I've heard," Chris said evenly. "And just when the hell did you get so talkative? Won't say a word when your throat works, won't shut up when it doesn't." He grabbed the bag from the pharmacy off the floor on Vin's side and got out of the truck. "I may be uppity, but you're contrary." He shut his door and walked around to the passenger side.

"Could be," Vin allowed as Larabee opened his door. He eased himself out of the truck and wilted against the man who stepped instantly to his side as the world shifted beneath his feet. "But y' love me anyways," he croaked.

Chris slipped an arm around Tanner's slim waist and guided him slowly toward the house. "Yeah," he breathed, smiling softly as the lean, too-warm body molded itself perfectly to his, "I guess I do at that."

Vin exhaled in sheer bliss as his exhausted, aching body settled against the firm mattress of Larabee's king-sized bed. "Oh, Lord," he breathed unsteadily as his throbbing head sank into the soft embrace of his pillow, "layin' down ain't ever felt s' good!"

Chris spread the covers over him, then sat down at his side and took one of Vin's hands in his, threading his fingers through Tanner's. "You need anything?"

Vin smiled faintly, his eyes closing, and squeezed Larabee's fingers with his own. "Got all I need right here."

Chris studied him intently, not liking the dark shadows beneath his eyes nor the sickly pallor of his skin. Tanner's only color came from the bright spots of fever burning high in his cheeks. "Need to take one of your pills," he said. "Start kickin' this thing's ass."

"Seems only fair," Vin sighed. "'S been kickin' mine since last night."

"Why didn't you call me?" Chris asked. "Tell me you were sick?"

He wrenched his eyes open at that and gazed tiredly up into green eyes soft and dark with worry. "Didn't seem like much at first," he explained in his tattered voice. "'Sides, y' want me t' call ya ever' time I git an ache or a tickle?"

Chris winced, knowing he was coming perilously close to smothering a man who prided himself on his strength and independence. "You know I don't," he said quietly. "Hell," he forced a wry grin, "if that were the case, we'd be on the phone to each other all the time! But," the grin faded and he reached out with his free hand, cupping it lightly around Vin's throat and tenderly stroking with his thumb, "there had to come a time last night when you knew this was more than 'an ache or a tickle.' Why didn't you call me then?"

He closed his eyes again as that thumb miraculously seemed to stroke away some of his pain. "Reckon I jist didn't wanta bother ya," he breathed. "Or ..." He grimaced and fell silent.

But Chris wouldn't have it. "Or?" he prompted quietly.

Vin shook his head slightly. "'S nothin'."

"It's not nothin'," Chris said firmly. "If you think it or feel it, that makes it somethin'. And it makes it somethin' important to me. So spill it."

He didn't want to, but that almost hypnotic thumb, along with the concern in that quiet voice and the love he felt flowing from the man at his side, broke down his resolve. He'd never been able to keep anything from Chris before and didn't know what made him think he could start now.

"Reckon I jist ..." He winced and shook his head. "Reckon mebbe I thought ... Hell," he whispered hoarsely, tearing his hand from Larabee's and turning onto his side away from the man.

And Chris understood. "You were afraid I wouldn't come because there wasn't anything in it for me," he finished, remembering Tanner's words in the clinic earlier. Anger flared again within him. Not at Vin this time, but at whoever had convinced him that he mattered only so long as he was able to make it worth someone else's while. Immediately he tamped down that anger, knowing that Vin would pick up on it and misread it, and forced himself to think only of the sick young man lying in his bed. "Hey," he coaxed, setting a gentle hand on Tanner's shoulder, "need you ta look at me here."

Unable to resist that voice, that hand, he rolled once more onto his back. He didn't meet Chris's eyes, though, until that hand slipped beneath his chin and lifted. Then, drawn as ever to the man, his gaze slowly sought Larabee's face, and he found himself staring helplessly into clear green eyes.

"There is somethin' in this for me," Chris said softly. "There's always somethin' in this for me. And that somethin' is you." He slid his hand up Vin's face to caress his cheek. "You're it for me, partner," he breathed. "You're everything for me. You're everything to me. I'm not lookin' for any rewards or pay-offs or perks, and I don't need any 'reasons' or 'justifications' to be with you. I just need you, Vin, and if there's a bigger reward or reason or pay-off than that, then I'll be damned if I know what it is."

Vin went absolutely still inside, his heart filling at Larabee's words and his soul stilling. Wide, unblinking blue eyes remained fixed on the man's face while he hung suspended between hope and fear. "I jist," he whispered at last, wanting to reach again for Larabee's hand but not quite daring to, "I jist ... don't want y' t' think ... I'm takin' advantage of ya."

Chris saw that hand clenching and reached for it, curving his own firmly around it. Then he chuckled softly. "Let's see," he mused, lifting Vin's hand to his heart and holding it there, "you don't call me when you're sick. You try to send me away when I want to take care of you. You'd rather go back to a hot, noisy apartment than come here, and then, once you're here, you volunteer to sleep in a guest room." He arched a brow. "You wanta tell me which part of that, exactly, is takin' advantage of me?"

Vin blushed and again dropped his gaze, then shrugged. "Jist don't wantcha gittin' sick is all," he breathed.

Chris was tempted to let it drop, knowing Vin needed rest. But he also knew that he had to make Tanner understand exactly how this thing between them worked. How Chris Larabee worked. "Sarah had strep a couple of times," he said in a casual tone. "Got it from Adam. You think I made her sleep in the guest room?"

"'Course not!" Vin shot back, his outraged gaze flying to his lover's. "Hell, she was yer wife! You wouldn't-"

"Then what's the difference?" Chris asked, that blond brow lifting again. "Yeah, okay, she was my wife. She and I were married and, let's be honest, Vin, you and I will just never be able to take that step. Legally. But, legality aside, just what the hell do you think is the difference between the way I felt about Sarah and the way I feel about you?"

Vin opened his mouth to answer, wanted to answer. But no answer came to him and he closed his mouth again.

Chris lowered his brow, but raised Vin's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. "Exactly," he said. "There is no difference. You mean every bit as much to me as she did. I love you every bit as deeply as I loved her. And I don't need a reason or an excuse to be with you, to want to take care of you, any more than I ever did with her. I love you, Vin," he said with a shrug. "And, just like it was with Sarah, that's its own damn reason."

Vin smiled slightly, his eyes shimmering with tears as his fears retreated. "I'm an idjit," he whispered, wondering how he could ever have doubted this man.

Chris laughed softly, then leaned down and pressed kisses to Vin's forehead, eyebrows and the tip of his nose. "You have your moments," he agreed on another chuckle.

"Y' know it goes both ways," Vin breathed as Chris sat up again.

Larabee arched both brows. "The love thing or the idjit thing?" he teased.

Vin laughed, then groaned. "Oh, Lord, don't make me do that!" he croaked in pain. "Y' know it hurts!"

"Yeah, I know," Chris sighed, his humor fading. "But I figure it's time we started takin' care of that. I'm gonna get your medicine, fix you a nice warm salt-water gargle and get your next dose of ibuprofin. You can wash it all down with that organic apple juice Rain insists will keep us all from dying of pesticide poisoning."

Vin's face twisted into a deep grimace of pain and disgust. "Hell, I thought y' said y' loved me!"

"I do," Chris said with the utmost seriousness. "That's why I'm determined to keep you healthy. Want you around to make me crazy for a good long while."

Vin scowled and pried his hand out of his lover's. "I don't make ya crazy," he groused.

"Yeah, ya do," Chris countered easily. "Hell, in the pharmacy I was talkin' to myself because of you."

"That ain't my doin'," Vin protested. "I cain't help it that ya need t' argue with somebody even when you're alone!"

"Yeah, well, the thing is, you won this argument." Chris winked. "I was goin' for a pint, you insisted on a half-gallon. And you won."

He perked up at that, his eyes widening, his petulance disappearing. He could think of only one thing he'd argue for in a half-gallon. "You got me-"

"Double Fudge Brownie Delight," Chris intoned solemnly, thoroughly enjoying the look of rapture spreading over his lover's wan face. He laughed again, then leaned down. "Just wanted ta show ya," he growled low in his throat, pressing a series of slow kisses against the tender, hot flesh just below Tanner's ear, "how glad I am ta be crazy."

Chris dropped a scoop of ice cream into the bowl and snorted softly. Christ, was he wrapped around Vin's finger or what? He should be pushing nutritious foods down the man, not feeding his sweet tooth! Yet in went another scoop.

He was hopeless.

A soft smile crept across his face. Hell, who was he kidding? This was as much his doing as Vin's. If he really wanted to, he could get Vin to eat right. He'd done it before and, surprisingly, without having to resort to force. Shit, he'd even gotten the man to start taking a daily vitamin just by expressing a little concern. Just like Vin had gotten him to cut back on his cigars and bourbon.

Amazing what love could do ...

And that was it. He loved Vin enough to badger him into changing some of his unhealthier habits, and loved him enough to indulge some of those same habits. Loved him enough to do all he could to make sure Vin never got sick or hurt, loved him enough to pamper him when he did.

Just ... loved him. Period. And decided that loving Vin didn't make him hopeless at all. Because he'd been hopeless once, had lived in that black, cold emptiness every day until a pair of twilight blue eyes and a crooked smile had lifted him out of it and returned him to a world where the sun shone and life had meaning.

And if that didn't earn a sick man a bowl of ice cream, what did?

He dropped the scoop into the sink, replaced the lid on the container and returned the ice cream to the freezer. Then, taking up bowl and spoon, he walked out of the kitchen, through the den and to the bedroom, smiling all the while. With an important new case looming, there were a thousand and one things he needed to be doing right now ...

And not one of them was more important than this.

He opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, then stopped, his eyes and smile softening as his gaze went to his partner. Vin lay on his left side, facing the door and curled loosely into himself, asleep, full lips parted and soft, long strands of hair falling over his face and throat. Fever still flushed his skin and he'd pushed aside the covers, as if too hot beneath them. But before falling asleep he'd gotten Chris's pillow and still cradled it to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around it, despite the heat it had to be holding against his body. Forgetting the ice cream he held, Chris simply stood and stared, touched to his soul by the silent but eloquent testimony of the stubbornly independent man's instinctive reliance on him, or even the faintest trace of him, for comfort.

Jesus, what had he done in his life to deserve this kind of love a second time?

Pulling himself out of his reverie with an effort, he shook his head to clear it and turned away. He'd save the ice cream for later; Vin needed his rest. Chris reached for the doorknob to pull the door after him as he left. He still had a laptop and a pile of paperwork waiting ...

"Don't go," pleaded a rough and broken voice behind him.

He turned and pushed open the door, startled to see a pair of heavy-lidded blue eyes blinking drowsily at him. "Thought you were asleep," he said softly, moving at once toward the bed.

Vin swallowed and grimaced, then moved back some to make room for Chris at his side. "Was, kinda," he rasped. "Not too good though, I reckon. Heard ya come in."

"I'm sorry," Chris murmured. He set the bowl on the bedside table, then smoothed the hair back from Tanner's hot face with a gentle hand. "Didn't mean to wake ya." He stroked the pad of his thumb slowly against his lover's forehead. "You need your sleep."

Vin sighed and let his eyes slide closed, more soothed than he could say by the tender caress of that thumb. "Need you more," he breathed, unwinding one arm from Larabee's pillow and sliding his hand to the man's hard thigh. "Sleep cain't do fer me what you do."

"Oh?" Chris slipped his hand around to the back of Vin's neck, under his hair, and began a slow and gentle massage. "And what is it that I do?"

Vin exhaled slowly. "This," he whispered as the hand at his neck seemed to ease the aches throughout his body. "Make me feel better with just yer touch." He forced his heavy eyes open and lifted them to Larabee's face. "Ain't anybody ever touched me like you do."

Chris frowned slightly. "How do I touch you?"

Vin thought a moment, trying to put it into words. "Like it's enough jist t' touch me," he finally rasped. "Like y' don't want nothin' from it, from me. Like y' jist ... like doin' it." He gave Larabee a sleepy smile. "Makes me feel good."

"I'm glad," Chris said in a low, warm voice. "That's all I ever wanta do. And I plan ta spend the rest of my life doin' it."

"Reckon I c'n live with that," Vin sighed, his eyelids drooping again.

Chris smiled and slid his hand down to Tanner's back, rubbing it in an effort to lull the man to sleep. "Think you could live with gettin' some rest, too?"

"Yeah." He wrenched open his eyes and looked up at Larabee, a determined glint showing through the glaze of fever. "But not 'til after I've had that ice cream."

Chris sighed, knowing it was useless to argue. "Can you sit up on your own or do you need help?" he asked resignedly.

Vin schooled his features into a look of utter misery. "Think I might need y' ta hold me up." He gave a less than convincing cough. "I'm feelin' kinda poorly."

Larabee rolled his eyes at the obvious ploy. "You do know that coughing isn't a symptom of strep, right?"

Vin frowned. "It ain't? You sure? Could be I'm gettin' a complication."

"You are a complication!" Chris retorted.

"Well, so much fer spendin' yer life makin' me feel good," he groused, pushing himself up from the mattress. "Oh no, that's all right," he protested peevishly, smacking aside the hands reaching out to help him, "wouldn't wanta be a complication fer ya."

"Anybody ever told ya that you're a real pain when you're sick?" Chris chided gently, slipping a strong arm around Tanner to support him and using his other hand to stack the pillows against the headboard. "Now," he eased Vin back against the pillows, "be good and let me feed you your ice cream."

Vin crossed his arms against his chest and lifted his chin defiantly. "I c'n eat it m'self-"

"You might fall asleep and drop the bowl," Chris said firmly, "and I ain't sleepin' on sticky sheets."

"Y' ain't ever minded it before," Vin smirked.

"Oh, God!" Chris groaned, bowing his head and shaking it.

Tanner arched a brow. "Y' wanta hurry up there, cowboy?" he urged hoarsely. "Ice cream's meltin'."

Chris raised his head, stared at Vin and opened his mouth, but for the life of him couldn't think of a damned thing to say. Shaking his head again, he merely leaned forward and retrieved the bowl from the table, wondering just why in the hell he let Tanner do this to him. No one else could; hell, no one else would! He'd spent too much time, effort and menace perfecting the kind of reputation that kept others from even thinking about messing with his mind. Then he had to go and hook up with the one contrary sonuvabitch in the entire world who didn't give a rat's ass about his reputation or his menace.

Shit, he was crazy.

Scowling deeply and silently cursing himself, he shoved the spoon into the half-melted ice cream, then lifted it and stuck it into Vin's open mouth ...

And melted himself when he saw the look of sheer, childlike happiness spreading over Tanner's face as he savored the feel and taste of the cold, rich chocolate.

He could live with being crazy.

Vin closed his eyes and swallowed slowly, delighting in the relief brought by the ice cream as it cooled the fire raging in his throat. Hell, right now he didn't particularly care what flavor it was, just so long as it was cold.

Chris stuck the spoon again into the softened treat and waited. When Vin opened his eyes and his mouth, Larabee chuckled at the sight of the deadly sharpshooter sitting before him like a baby bird waiting to be fed. Lifting the spoon from the bowl, he slipped it into Vin's mouth, but not before a bead of melted ice cream fell from it and slid down the Texan's chin. Tanner closed his mouth around the spoon and Chris slowly pulled it free, eyeing the trail of spilled chocolate hungrily.

"Well," he breathed as Vin swallowed, "can't let any of this go ta waste." He bowed his head and slid his tongue lightly over Tanner's chin, lapping up the chocolate there, then licked his way up to the outward curve of the Texan's lower lip.

"Aw, damn!" Vin whispered, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back as Chris licked and nibbled at him. "Ya would have t' do this when I'm sick!"

"You behave now," Chris lifted his head and smiled wolfishly, "and maybe we'll try it again when you're well."

Vin opened his eyes and arched a brown brow. "You tryin' t' bribe a fed'ral agent?"

"Depends." Chris bowed his head again and swept his mouth along Tanner's jaw. "Can you be bought?"

Vin shuddered and exhaled unsteadily as his fever seemed to grow hotter still. "Bought, leased or rented by th' hour," he rasped. "Hell, y' keep doin' this, an' I'll jist let ya borrow me!"

"Nope, don't wanta borrow you," Chris purred, trailing his mouth slowly down to Vin's long neck and nuzzling at the too-warm flesh there. "Don't wanta have ta give you back. Want you for keeps."

Vin swallowed hard as Larabee sucked gently at one corner of his collarbone. "Always did like ... a man who plays fer keeps," he breathed.

Chris lifted his head and shook it slowly, then cupped a hand gently around his lover's neck. "I'm not playin', partner," he said quietly, green eyes dark and deep. "Not where you're concerned. You mean too much to me for that."

Vin smiled softly. "I know that." He reached up and brushed a shock of blond hair off Larabee's forehead, feeling safe with this man as he never had with any other. "An' it means more t' me than I c'n say."

"Then don't say anything," Chris urged, long fingers lightly stroking Tanner's neck. "Just sit back, relax and let me take care of you."

Vin grinned at his lover and winked. "'S hard ta refuse a man with a bowl of chocolate ice cream in his hand."

Chris looked down at the bowl he held, then looked back up at Tanner and lifted two golden brows. "You mean this is all it takes to get you ta do what I tell you?"

"We-ell," Vin drawled, lifting a forefinger to stroke the cleft in Larabee's chin, then dragging it slowly down the man's long throat and powerful chest, "could always try it, see if it works." His finger wandered toward a nipple, and he cocked his head to one side and regarded his lover through wide blue eyes. "Jist ain't no tellin' what kinda persuadin'll work with me."

Chris's free hand shot out to grab Vin's and snatch it away just as it found his nipple through his shirt. "Does the word 'behave' even register with you?" he growled, glaring into Tanner's innocent face. "You're sick, remember?"

Vin continued to gaze at his lover, head canted slightly to one side, eyes wide and dark, and slowly licked his lips. "C'n think of a few things that'd make me feel better."

Chris swallowed hard, trying not to lose himself in those eyes and coming dangerously near failing. Drawn helplessly to the man who held his heart and soul, he leaned slowly forward, intent on that full, enticing mouth. At the last minute, though, he stopped and pulled back with a groan as common sense prevailed.

"Aw, hell," Vin exhaled sharply, pulling his hand out of Larabee's grasp and crossing his arms against his chest, scowling darkly at the man. "I hate it when ya do that!"

Chris returned that scowl with one of his own. "You're dangerous, you know that?" he said in a low, rough voice. He leveled an index finger only inches from Tanner's face. "Behave," he ordered sternly.

Vin looked at Chris, looked down at that finger, and looked back up at Chris. "I always behave," he said. Then leaned forward abruptly and took that finger into his mouth, catching it between his teeth and sucking hungrily on it.

Chris gasped and shuddered, then stiffened and swore softly as Tanner's mouth sent a shaft of liquid heat straight to his groin. "Damn it, Vin!" he murmured, his tone sounding suspiciously like a whine. With an effort he pulled his finger free, steeling himself against the feel of his flesh scraping pleasurably against the Texan's teeth. "What the hell am I gonna do with you?"

Vin sighed heavily in exasperation and sank back against his pillows. "Been givin' ya all kinds'a hints," he said irritably. "I cain't help it that yer thick."

Larabee stared at the pouting sharpshooter in disbelief, then started to laugh, his own irritation and frustration fading. Still laughing, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Tanner's mouth. "You're somethin' else, partner," he chuckled.

That kiss and the warmth in Larabee's voice eroded his sulkiness. "Yeah?" he whispered.

"Yeah." Chris kissed the other corner of his mouth, then his chin. "And, God help me, I love you."

Chris stirred the pot one last time, then replaced the lid upon it and turned the fire down beneath it, letting it simmer. The rich scent of homemade chicken soup still hovered about the stove and he smiled, pleased with himself. He was by no means a gourmet cook, but he'd never starve, either. Sarah had seen to that, insisting that every grown man should know how to cook and do laundry. And over the years with her, he'd discovered a surprising satisfaction in preparing simple but tasty meals for someone he loved.

Another pleasure he'd forgotten until Vin had come along ...

He picked up his coffee from the counter by the stove and carried it to the small table where his laptop sat open and waiting for him. Yet even as he sat down and glanced at the screen, his thoughts remained on Vin rather than the reports the other members of his team had sent him. True, Tanner had reintroduced him to incredible sensation of mind-bending, bone-melting sex, had reminded him of the exquisite joy to be found in giving pleasure to and receiving it from someone he truly loved. Then, taking him beyond even what he'd had with Sarah, Vin had exploded the limits of his world and taken him places in body and soul that he'd never imagined existed.

But, as wondrous as that was, it wasn't by a long shot the man's greatest gift to him. With Vin, he'd learned again the simple yet profound happiness of just loving and being loved, of knowing that he had someone with whom to share even the most mundane moments of his life. And who could take the mundane and make it somehow miraculous. Whether by nature or because of his often ugly and brutal past, Vin had mastered the art of living in the moment, of standing still and immersing himself fully in a single moment of time, of taking into himself everything that moment had to offer. He held the secret of simply being, and he was sharing that secret with Larabee, who'd always been more concerned with doing. Chris had long since lost count of the times Vin had reached out to set a hand on his arm and softly drawled, "Jist be still a minute, cowboy, this world ain't goin' nowhere." At those times, with that gentling touch against him and those serene blue eyes upon him, Larabee had no choice but to be still, and had discovered that a moment of being with Vin Tanner was infinitely more gratifying than a lifetime of doing without him could ever be.

Sarah had been trying to teach him that before she'd died. Sometimes Chris couldn't help but wonder if she'd been the one to send Vin to him to complete the lesson.

He thought about that a few moments, then smiled softly and reached out, turning off the laptop and shutting it. The reports would wait. He had all night and the rest of the weekend to "do." Right now, though, the soup was ready and there was a sick man in the bedroom who needed some attention. He rose to his feet and walked back to the stove, turning off the fire beneath the soup and removing the lid. Then, as he turned to open the cabinet where the bowls were kept, his gaze strayed to the picture of his wife and son on the wall below the clock. For a moment, his eyes locked with Sarah's, then he smiled and nodded once in grateful acknowledgment of her "interference."

And would almost have sworn that she winked back.

He was just drifting back up toward wakefulness when the mattress gave beneath another's weight and a wonderfully cool touch descended against his cheek. Knowing instinctively whose touch it was, he sighed softly and turned his face further into that hand without ever opening his eyes. "Hey, cowboy," he whispered hoarsely.

"Hey, yourself." Chris leaned forward and pressed his lips against Vin's forehead in a tender, lingering kiss. When he straightened again, heavy-lidded blue eyes gazed drowsily up at him and he smiled into them. "Think your fever's finally started goin' down," he said with obvious relief.

Vin swallowed and grimaced as the razors again seemed to slash down his throat. "Wish it'd take the pain with it," he rasped.

"I know," Chris sighed. He slid his hand to Tanner's long throat and gently stroked with his thumb. "Wish I could make it better."

Vin smiled tiredly as the slow stroking continued. "Doin' a fair job of it now," he breathed.

Larabee chuckled and shook his head. "Doesn't take much ta please you, does it?"

"Jist takes you," Vin answered seriously. "Cain't see that there is anything more'n that."

The simple statement, and the absolute belief behind it, sent a ripple of unease through Chris. He knew how completely Vin trusted him, knew how rare and precious a gift that was from this man, and worried that he wouldn't, couldn't, be truly worthy of it. Always unflinchingly honest with himself, he was acutely aware of his own flaws and weaknesses and harbored the secret, nagging fear that those flaws and weaknesses would somehow keep him from being the man that Vin needed him to be.

That Vin wanted him to be.

That fear, though, was no secret from Vin, and he read it plainly now in the green eyes gazing down at him. With a gentle smile, he reached up and curled a too-warm hand about the cooler one at his throat, squeezing Larabee's fingers firmly. "Gotta stop thinkin' s' much, cowboy," he rasped. "Gonna give yerself a headache. An' I already got one big enough fer both of us."

Chris gave a crooked smile and laced his fingers through Vin's. "Guess I just worry that you make too much of me, see more in me than what's really there." His smile twisted into a wry grimace. "I ain't been perfect in a long damn time," he quipped ruefully.

"No shit!" Vin retorted on a dry, hoarse chuckle. At Chris's startled look, he laughed again, then pushed himself slowly upright, immensely grateful for the strong arm that immediately came to his aid. He let Chris pull him close and rested for long moments in the shelter of his lover's body, deciding then and there that this had to be the best part of being loved. Forget good sex; heaven was just having someone to hold him when he was sick.

"You all right?" Chris asked worriedly, never loosening his hold on the sick man.

"Gettin' there," Vin sighed, happily resting his aching head on Chris's broad shoulder. "Reckon a few more days right here an' I'll be jist fine."

Chris chuckled at that and laid a cheek against Vin's hair. "And what do you plan ta do about eating and calls of nature?"

Vin heaved a sigh and slowly lifted his head, fixing a bleary-eyed glare upon his lover. "There ya go thinkin' again," he chided irritably. "Don't ya ever worry about wearin' out that brain a' yers?"

Chris grinned wickedly and winked. "Not while I got you around to wear out other parts of me first."

Vin winced and laid his head back down upon Chris's shoulder. "Ain't sure I'll be wearin' out nothin' fer a while yet," he sighed. "Right now, I ain't even got strength enough t' think about it."

"Then how 'bout we get some food in ya?" Chris suggested, slowly stroking Tanner's back.

"Ya bring me more ice cream?" he asked hopefully.

Chris rolled his eyes. "I said food, Vin. Even you can't live on ice cream."

"Could try. Yer always sayin' I'm scrawny."

"Yeah, and for the life of me I don't understand why," Larabee sighed. "Hell, you oughtta weigh three hundred pounds, be toothless and have the world's worst case of acne instead of lookin' like you do!"

Vin turned his head enough to grin impishly up at his lover. "Must be clean livin'."

Chris exploded into a dramatic cough. "Yeah, that's gotta be it!" he gasped.

"Nobody likes a smart-ass," Vin growled.

"For your own sake," Chris smirked, "you'd best hope that's not true. Now," he kept one arm around Vin but reached behind him with the other to stack the pillows against the headboard, "let's get you fed. I'd forgotten how cranky you get when you're hungry."

"Only cranky 'cause I got some uppity goddamn cowboy makin' my hair hurt," Vin grumbled as he let Larabee ease him back against his pillows. "Ain't like I need the grief, seein' as how I'm already sick an' all, but he jist don't seem ta care-"

"Vin?" Chris interrupted mildly as he patiently rearranged the covers over his fretting lover.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Hmph," Vin snorted sharply, crossing his arms against his chest and scowling darkly at Larabee.

Unfazed, Chris leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved the tray he'd set on the floor. It was a wooden laptop table, perfect for dining in bed or, in his case, feeding grumpy invalids. A large bowl about half-filled with soup sat on the tray, along with a glass of lemonade and, wonder of wonders, a cup of coffee. He set the tray across Tanner's lap and made sure its legs were resting evenly on the mattress, then reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a spoon.

And Vin couldn't resist. "That a spoon in yer pocket, or are ya jist happy ta see me?"

Chris groaned and bowed his head.

Vin snatched the spoon from Larabee's clenched fist and dipped it into the soup, shaking his head all the while. "No sense a' humor, that's yer problem."

"No," Chris sighed, slowly raising his head and watching as Vin carried a spoonful of soup to his mouth, "my problem is a long-haired, scrawny-assed, mouthy Texan who hasn't got the sense to shut up when he's sick." He saw the pain crease Tanner's face as he swallowed and winced in sympathy. "I thought letting it cook so long would make the chicken and noodles easier for you ta swallow," he explained. "Guess it didn't quite work."

Vin swallowed another spoonful painfully, then tried, and failed, to force a smile. "'S all right, Chris," he rasped. "Hell, right now water feels like it's got rocks in it. But I reckon I gotta- Wait a minute," he interrupted himself abruptly, frowning at his lover. "You cooked this? I mean, you made this?"

Chris arched a golden brow. "I can do more than throw steaks on a grill, you know."

Vin continued to stare at him. "Yeah, but, this ... this's gotta be work!"

Chris shrugged easily. "Not that much. Just cut up some chicken, put the stock together, throw in some noodles-"

"Coulda jist opened a can-"

"I don't think so, pard," Chris retorted dryly. "Do you have any idea how many generations of outraged Connolly women would've come out of their graves to haunt me if I'd done that?"

Vin's eyes widened as the meaning of those words hit him. "This is Sarah's soup?" he squeaked.

Chris frowned in confusion. "Well, technically, it's her recipe," he answered slowly. "The soup itself is yours. And mine."

Vin sat back and gaped at Larabee, his mouth hanging open, the soup now forgotten. Chris hadn't just made soup from scratch, he'd made Sarah's soup from scratch. For him.

Chris suddenly understood his lover's surprise and felt a tenderness tinged with sorrow that so small a thing should mean so much. "It's all right," he said softly, leaning forward and slipping a finger under Tanner's chin, then gently closing his mouth. "I wanted to do it. And Sarah would want me to." He smiled slightly, his green eyes soft. "She always said it was the love that went into chicken soup that gave it healing powers. If that's true," he slid his finger lightly across Vin's lips, "then this should do more for ya than that whole bottle of antibiotics. 'Cause I do love you, partner, and I'd do damn near anything for you."

Tears stung Vin's eyes, and for once he made no attempt to blink or wipe them away. Such words from Chris were infinitely precious to him, all the more so because he knew that, unlike so many others, this man never spoke them lightly and with nothing less than his whole heart behind them. In the past, others had used such words to bind him. From Chris, though, they gave him only freedom.

"Y' don't need t' do anything," he whispered at last, his tattered voice unsteady. "Jist love me. 'S all I've ever wanted from ya."

Chris cradled Vin's cheek in his hand and smiled into shimmering blue eyes. "You've already got that, Vin," he rasped. "Hell, you've had it from the first."