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| Entry tags: | chris/vin, m7, my fanfic |
Magnificent Seven FICATHON: This Horrible Potential (Adult).
Title: This Horrible Potential
Author: Fantasyenabler
Written for: annieke
Prompt: Chris/Vin, OW, tension between them, dark would be good, some Josiah (I did him as a P.O.V.)
Rating: Adult, Slash
Summary: Shortly after "One Day Out West," a series of gruesome murders puts stress on the Seven's newly formed bonds.
Warnings: Allusions to non-explicit violence, Brief mention of the murder of children, Some semi-explicit descriptions of m/m sexual acts.
The wind felt angry, Josiah thought, as he lowered his head over his horse's neck, one hand clutching Seeker's reins, the other trying to keep his large-brimmed Stetson secured to the top of his head. Just ahead of him, he could see both Ezra and Nathan attempting to hold on to their own headgear, the gambler muttering fluid curses as his riverboat hat seemed especially determined to take flight. The wind was pushing at it, pushing at them all. It rushed down at the group of five men and five horses as they traveled upwards in elevation, winding their way up a narrow mountain path. Each step took them further along a trail only one of them could truly see, but they all grimly followed along even as the path climbed on, willingly leaving the warm desert below for the colder climes above.
And only the good lord knows what we're liable to find up there, Josiah thought, pulling his wool coat tighter around his wide shoulders. The coat gave him its warmth, but he still shuddered at the air's chill embrace. He remembered the omens that had preceded his adventure at the Seminole village a month or so ago. A sudden, cold wind like this could count as an omen, he knew…
Best not to think that way, he decided. These last few weeks had already given every one of them enough bad signs to last a lifetime.
He looked ahead to the point where the trail began to scale more steeply up the mountain. There, he could see Chris and Vin, two men who were so focused on the task at hand they had no time for anything else. Vin's slouch hat hung loosely from its strap around his neck, flopping absently against its owner's back, while Chris' black flat-brimmed sat firmly atop Chris' head, as if it didn't even feel the breeze. Vin scanned the ground and the grasses for any signs of their quarry. Chris did the same, only with his gaze looking upward instead of down, searching the trail ahead of Vin, as if he thought the monster they pursued might mysteriously materialize like a demon out of the Bible, playing games and wanting to see if he could surprise them.
Josiah sighed into the wind. "It's only a man we're chasing," he said to no one but God, himself, and Seeker. "We all have to remember it's only a man."
Seeker snorted. Josiah snorted back, and God said nothing. After all this time, Josiah couldn't say that he was surprised.
What did surprise him was when Nathan turned, red-rimmed eyes squinting in question, forcing Josiah to wonder if the healer's eyes were red due to the weather or due to the things they'd had to see these last few weeks. Josiah knew his friend was used to horror, had practically grown up with it as a playtime companion, but he also knew that no matter how knowledgeable a man might be on a subject, there were always possibilities beyond one's experience…
Possibilities. What a horrible word.
He grimaced, focusing the expression down towards the ground, rather than at Nathan who was still glancing back at him, splitting attention between Josiah and Seeker, and the trail they were climbing. Grimly, Josiah looked up and caught Nathan's eye, before shaking his head and pointing his lantern jaw towards the path. Nathan frowned, but accepted the message, setting both his eyes and his mind back on their appointed task.
Appointed task. More words that felt wrong, for some reason.
When this was all over, Josiah would have to meditate upon the way language could slide and slip on a man, bearing new meanings in new situations, making both communication and understanding constantly uncertain.
Yes, he would certainly have to meditate when this was over. The only question would be how many concepts would he need to meditate upon.
He looked up the trail again, his gaze floating from man to man before settling on the black-clothed man who'd somehow become their leader without anyone questioning or debating the fact. Chris' hands were fidgeting as he rode, constantly trading out the duties of clutching Pony's reins and resting on his gun belt. Occasionally, one would ride up towards the handle of a gun and pause there for a long moment, as if Chris were reassuring himself that the gun was still there, that both guns were still there. That they were ready, loaded, and waiting.
Josiah didn't have to be a student of human nature to know that for many of his fellow peacekeepers revenge was the only possible justice in this situation.
He knew that because he felt the same way.
The emotion had been rising in him these last few weeks, and he had tried to smother it at first, keeping his heart focused on bringing comfort to the bereaved families, to keep his mind centered on what would help best.
As of last night though, that focus was gone, and Josiah knew that he wouldn't be regaining it until he and the others came to the end of this trail—that when they reached it, there was only one thing that would put him back on the path of penance—and if that one thing added to his spiritual burden, well, Josiah figured he could carry that.
After bearing witness to the eternal horror in those sightless eyes, he figured it was the least that he could do.
The halting of horses brought Josiah's attention back to the present, specifically the fact that Vin had climbed off of Peso's back and now stood stiffly at the point where the mountain trail broke itself into two possible paths. Josiah looked to Chris to see if he could get an explanation, but the expression on the blond man's face made it clear that he didn't know why they had stopped either.
Ahead of him, Ezra shifted Chaucer over so that Josiah and Seeker could move as close as they dared on the narrow trail. "This can not bode well," he was saying as Josiah rode up, Nathan not saying anything, but nodding in general agreement as Ezra continued. "No, this can not bode well at all."
"Don't lose hope yet," Josiah heard himself saying, some part of him responding without the rest of him thinking. "Even if we lose him out here, there's always the possibility of Buck or JD, or perhaps even the Judge or Mrs. Travis, uncovering something we missed back in town. One way or another, I believe we'll find him. We have too many people with fire in their bellies over this for us not to."
Ezra shook his head at the words, but there was a quirk to his mouth that Josiah hoped meant that he was listening. Hoped, because Josiah could not be sure. After only a few weeks together, he was still learning how to read what the other six men said with their bodies and how it all differed from what they said with their mouths. Consequently, all he could be sure of was that the tension in Ezra's posture held a different source than the stress shown by himself, Chris, and even Nathan. After all of his experiences in his younger years, Josiah was well acquainted with reading the lines rage could put in a man's body.
He was equally acquainted with reading the ones sorrow could put there as well.
Vin's drawl brought all of their attention back to the fork in the trail. "Looks like I'm gonna need to leave y'all for a bit," he said, hat still left hanging down his back. "I've got sign here that's meant to make a man think two people broke company and went up both parts of the path. I'm thinkin' it's mostly false, but I can't be sure. I need to go up this one branch here and see if the tracks fall the way I expect they ought to."
Chris stiffened in his saddle, and Josiah couldn't help but hold his breath as he and the others waited for what was going to happen next. Chris' voice was almost too low to hear when he said, "Tell me you're not thinking about doing that alone."
Vin frowned, the first sign of emotion Josiah had seen from him since the tracker had submerged himself into the task of finding their killer. "I'm not goin' that far, Chris," he said. "Hardly seems worth more than one of us workin' to squeeze our way up and back on that there little goat trail."
Chris was already shaking his head. "I don't care. We've already underestimated this bastard once and a little gir—" The head shaking stopped as he bit off a curse. "Someone died because we got careless and let this snake slither his way right out of our trap. I'm not taking any more chances with this monster, and I don't want any of the rest of you to either. Somebody goes with you, or you don't go at all."
Josiah exhaled even as he felt Ezra and Nathan both tense up beside him. Since they'd all agreed to work together, Chris had given more than a few orders—and in Ezra's case, a few warnings—and mostly they'd worked out with a minimum of hard feelings. This was the first time though that any of them had seen him tell Vin that he wasn't going to let him go do something, and Josiah realized that he had no idea how Vin might possibly react. As with Ezra, there just hadn't been enough time for Josiah to learn all of his habits and gestures, and as a result, he had absolutely no idea what it was the four of them were about to see.
Huh.
Now, this was interesting.
Vin didn't look angry, so much as he looked like he'd just been pushed over some sort of emotional edge. He stood motionless. Except for his hands clenching open and shut, the slow, deep breathing, and what seemed like a world of emotions racing behind his blue eyes.
Frustration, Josiah thought was at the forefront of that race. Cold, hard, ready-to-leap-right-out-of-your-skin frustration, and really, that wasn't so surprising, was it? After all, how many times had JD alone been heard asking, "Vin, can't you find this guy?"
Several, Josiah decided. It was obviously past time for someone to take JD aside and explain that, yes, all of his more experienced partners were very, very skilled, but they still had their limitations. He needed to learn to recognize that, learn to allow for that, and finally learn to accept that he was riding with men, not dime novel heroes.
It wasn't a dime novel hero, after all, that was practically snarling at Chris when he finally spoke. "He don't have any magical powers, Chris, and it's not gonna do us any good to be thinkin' that he does. He outsmarted us, yeah. He went lookin' for someone to kill somewhere we didn't expect…" The clenching hands formed fists and then flew open again. "Hell, yeah. But he's still just a man…a smart, deadly man…but still, a man. And I'm not gonna let you stop me from doin' what I can just because you've let all of the scared rabbit townfolk convince you we're lookin' for some sorta ghost…"
"I know we're not looking for some damn ghost. I know that, God damn it!" Chris was practically standing in the saddle, and Josiah was amazed that he hadn't jumped right out of it. "But he is dangerous. I've heard you say that yourself. And that is something we want to think about, not taking any fool chances, because you know that's what he's waiting for…"
"No, that's what you know…"
"Well, it ought to be what you know too. You're the one with all of the bounty hunting experience. But the way you're acting, I'd think you were the kid instead of JD…"
Josiah was so caught up in the exchange he nearly startled when Nathan cleared his throat to speak. "Um, fellas." Out of the corner of his eye, Josiah could see Nathan pointing up the mountain. "I hate to break this up, but I think we might have somethin' we want to be payin' more attention to."
There was something in Nathan's voice that made them all fall still. Chris settled himself as he turned towards Nathan and asked very simply, "What?"
Nathan's face was gray instead of his usual healthy dark skin tone. "Up there," he said. "Do you see?"
Ezra shifted so he was looking in the direction Nathan indicated. "Oh, my," he said. "Are those…?"
Josiah finally saw them for himself. "Vultures," he said and felt his stomach contract into a painful little ball.
He remembered how this trip up the mountain had started. Lord knows what we're liable to find up there, he'd thought, as he'd struggled with his hat, and the cold wind blew a chill omen up his spine.
Now…Please, please don't let this be what we think it is, he prayed as Vin got back on his horse and they all headed up the more direct of the two paths. Please, please, please, let there be some justice, for once. For once, let there be some justice.
As they rode, he heard Seeker snort again. And God still continuing to say nothing.
Sadly, Josiah realized that he never would be all that surprised.
**************************************************************
The sun had already set by the time they returned to town, their group having expanded from five horses to six, with the extra horse carrying a blanket-covered burden rather than a rider. Chris led them all directly to the jail, surveying the darkened street as he went, and nodding to himself before he dismounted, grateful that the walks and doorways were deserted at least. He had a feeling there were probably bodies at windows, nervous faces peeking around curtains, their many sets of eyes squinting out into the night. The townspeople would be trying to know what they weren't brave enough to come outside and ask, and he grimaced when he considered what the morning would bring, half-tempted to just let JD handle distributing answers…
But, no. They'd only seek him out anyway. Like they had for weeks now. Like he was beginning to suspect they'd continue to do, so long as they had faith they'd find him lurking somewhere in this Godforsaken little town.
That wasn't something he'd counted on when he'd told the judge, "Yes." He wished someone would have warned him.
Hell, he wished someone would have warned him about a lot of things.
Beside him, Nathan and Josiah were lifting their blanket-wrapped delivery off of its horse, preparing to take it into the jail. Chris felt vaguely guilty at leaving it to them, but reasoned it away with the thought that not only were they the strongest, they were also the most used to dealing with death. Ezra moved ahead of them, carefully maintaining his distance, but at the same time, obviously wanting to be close enough to help. Vin…Chris didn't see Vin until Ezra's horse moved, and Chris realized he was being practical and seeing to it that all of their horses got taken to the livery.
Guess that left Chris with going in and asking Buck and JD some mighty uncomfortable questions about their latest corpse.
Guess in order to do that, he'd have to make some sort of move towards going inside.
Ahead of him, the door closed behind Josiah, Nathan, and Ezra, and Chris took a step forward as it fell shut.
Then he paused at the edge of the wooden boardwalk. And cursed himself as he did so.
Yeah, there were a lot of things he wished somebody had warned him about, he thought, as he lit a cheroot and watched its smoke waft off into the night.
A lot of things.
He stood there, inhaling and exhaling smoke for a few moments, waiting and listening outside the jailhouse, until the yelling finally started. He knew then that someone had obviously opened that blanket and had begun demanding some answers. Probably wondering why the dead man was someone they "knew and trusted," someone they'd vouched for to the others just a week or so before.
They were probably also wondering where Chris was while the others were giving them explanations.
Explanations. Hell.
He pivoted away from the jail. Suddenly, he'd decided it was good that he wasn't in there.
If he went in there right now, all he'd be able to do was scream.
God damn it, some part of him wanted to shout. You'd think he'd be happier about being able to say to everyone in general, and Buck and JD in particular, "I told you so." The body they'd found, the piece of dress he'd had—it proved it, proved what Chris had known all along—and if they'd only listened to him, if they hadn't convinced him that they needed proof before they could go arresting a man…
He reached a hand up towards his hat, barely resisting the urge to grab it and have something to throw against a wall.
Damn it…he was right; they were wrong, and God had taken his own justice by having a ruthless murderer thrown off his own horse. There ought to be some satisfaction in that, shouldn't there?
Shouldn't there?
He walked back to the jailhouse doorway and stopped to look towards where Vin had headed up the street. He found himself watching the back of the other man to see if he would keep to his latest pattern, a new habit of glancing back and checking up on his fellow peacekeepers whenever he had to leave them for even the smallest amount of time.
Tonight though, it seemed Vin wasn't interested in glancing back. In fact, once he reached the livery, he didn't turn at all. Just kept right on going inside. Like there was nothing behind him he wanted any part of.
Chris sighed and shook his head; then he opened the door. Everyone in the room either lifted their heads or turned towards him when he entered. In each and every face, their eyes were either bleak or haunted.
Or in Buck's case, downright regretful.
No, there was no satisfaction, he decided.
Absolutely none at all.
****************************************************************
The bed should look good, Chris thought as he entered his room at the boarding house. He'd been awake for more than a day straight, and short of sleep for far longer than that, since before the first mangled body had been discovered on the outskirts of town. Now with the monster finally found, the townspeople still hiding in their homes, and his door firmly locking behind him, he should be more than ready to crawl into that bed and get some much-needed rest.
He really should be, he thought as he threw his hat upon the bed.
Should be, he thought again as he dropped into the room's only chair and rubbed his unshaven face with his hands. Yeah, he really should be.
He leaned back and managed to close his eyes for a second.
Then he opened them, shook his head, and knew there was no way he wouldn't spend the night sitting here wide awake, waiting for the dawn.
He smirked at his own foolishness before taking off his gunbelt and hanging it carefully on the corner of the chair.
After everything he'd been through, he should know better than to have any faith in things like "should be."
A knock at the door had him grabbing his gunbelt again. "Hell," he muttered before rising from the chair and moving across the small room. "Somebody better not be dead again."
He unlocked and opened the door with a gun in his hand. The man leaning tiredly against the doorframe was looking away when Chris first saw him, his head half-turned towards the empty staircase behind him, but the noise of the hinges creaking pulled back his attention and his mouth twitched when he saw the gun. "And here I thought the worst thing I had to worry about was you growlin' at me," Vin said, his voice low and quiet. "Y'know if you don't want company, you can always just tell 'em to go away. You don't have to shoot 'em full of holes."
Chris glared as he holstered his revolver and cleared out of the doorway. "Oh, I don't know," he said. "Some people are mighty slow to take a hint." He settled his weapons back on the corner of the chair, before falling into its seat again. "Seems to me that sometimes you have to use some bullets, just to make sure they're listening."
"Yeah, I reckon it can seem that way sometimes." Vin shifted against the doorframe, not coming in, but not backing away either. He put a hand on the edge of the open door as if he was going to come inside and close it. Then just left it there, as his entire body became still. "Chris," he said, "I know you and I have been spendin' the last few days steppin' all over each other's last nerve, so this probably ain't the best time…"
Chris had to huff at that. "Probably not the best time?" he asked.
"All right, so it's a downright stupid time." Vin's eyes narrowed as he continued, his fingers tightening where they gripped the door. "But I couldn't let this sit until mornin', Chris. There's too much could happen in just a few hours. You and me…we've both seen enough to know that's true."
Chris grimaced at those last few words. Some part of him wanted to ask the younger man just what it was he'd imagined Chris had seen. Ask if he thought there was something to be gained by laying their pasts out side by side and judging them, like a pair of boys comparing schoolyard scars.
Instead, he took a deep breath, and without even thinking about it, stood up and crossed the room. When he was just a few steps in front of Vin, he asked in a cold, clear voice, "So tell me, what did you come here to say?"
Vin straightened as Chris drew closer, as if to show that he wasn't about to be intimidated just because Chris had decided to come over and face him eye to eye. "Well, I'll tell you what I didn't come here to say. I didn't come here to say I'm sorry like I'm thinkin' you think I oughta." He lifted his hand off the door and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not about to get all humble when I know I didn't do nothin' wrong, just to try to make somebody happy. Never have, never will, and that's not gonna change. No matter how many times a certain gunslinger tries to wear me down by yellin' and screamin' and just generally aggravatin' the crap outta me."
Chris couldn't help but grin at that. The evil one, he supposed, since according to Buck, Chris didn't know how to grin any other way. "Yellin'. Screamin'. Aggravatin'," he said, shaking his head. "You make it sound like I've been throwing temper tantrums."
Vin's hands flew off his chest, causing Chris to take a step back. "That's 'cause it feels to me like you have," he said as he finally closed the door. He took a step into the room, making Chris back up even more. "I mean, I know you've been feelin' pushed by what's been happenin' lately…but Hell, Chris, you ain't the only one…"
Chris stopped backing up and stood his ground. "No, I know I'm not," he said. "But I am the one people keep coming to for answers, keep expecting to come up with a plan, and I have to say I'm getting mighty sick of it." He saw Vin start to say something and he held up a hand to stop him. "No," he said, "you know that's true. You've seen it going on. It's what always happens when I end up part of a group, and most of the time, I don't mind it much because I don't care what people think. Most of the time.
"This though…this town." He shook his head. "It's a little different than an Army unit or a group of local boys looking to raise Hell. There're different stakes here. Women. Children. Families. Whole groups of people's hopes and dreams, or at least, so I keep hearing, and they're all so ready to pin every last bit of those hopes on the judge and the fact that he hired the seven of us." His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he sneered disdainfully. "These townfolk…they act like a dollar a day makes it our responsibility they were stupid enough to come out here in the first place. Like we can lift this town out of the mud they chose to settle in. Like it's our fault it's not the heaven they were foolishly expecting."
He paused and took a much-needed breath to calm himself down, gathering his temper as he did so. "People need to be responsible for themselves. Not rely on others like scared rabbits. I know I wasn't expecting that when I came out here…"
With Sarah, his mind finished. When you came out here with Sarah.
Don't go there, he told himself. Don't you dare go there.
His mind let the thought go, as his body began pacing around the room. "Anyway…I knew this was a mistake back when the judge was asking us all to volunteer," he continued. "That's why I told him what I did, about knowing that I'd eventually regret saying yes. Now, after everything that's happened recently…" He spread his hands. "Well, let's just say 'eventually' is here. Much faster than even I expected."
He stopped pacing on that last sentence and let his hands fall to his sides, suspecting that there was more that he should say, but not knowing how to say it.
Words about being set up for failure, raising people's hopes, letting folk think they could have lives beyond their reach, that they could build something that would never be abruptly taken…
God damn it.
He turned away, eyes shutting in frustration.
Behind him, he heard movement, Vin's steps on the wooden floor, reminding him that the other man was there. "So that's it?" Vin asked, his voice close to Chris' back. "You're just gonna give up on this and run away?"
"This?" Chris asked as he opened his eyes, surprising himself with how calm his voice sounded. He walked away from Vin's presence, his steps ultimately taking him to the bed. "What do you mean by 'this,' Vin?" he asked, hoping the other man didn't notice as he rubbed at his face. "I'm afraid you're getting so stingy with words that even I can't understand what you're trying to say, pard."
He was flipping his hat off of the bed and onto the chair when a hand came down on his shoulder. "Then let me make it plain, pard," Vin said, his fingers flexing. "I'm talkin' about what we got goin' here, the seven of us. I'm talkin' about what we could do for this town once we get a chance to get to know each other better and learn to work together better. I'm talkin' about maybe doin' some good beyond just keepin' this last bastard from killin' more people. That's what I'm talkin' about when I say, 'this.' What else would I be talkin' about?"
Chris twisted under Vin's hand, making him let go, as he pivoted to face him, the last bit of Chris' recent rush of emotions shaking off and leaving him free to do so. Vin's blue eyes were focused and intense in their clarity, and as Chris watched them, a perverse impulse crept over him, a desire to see if he could make those eyes change. "You could always have been talking about us," he said. "You and me. What we've been doing since almost the first night we got here. Since we all decided we were going to stay."
Vin shrugged, his expression not changing in the slightest. "What happens there…happens," he said, looking away, but only for a moment. "To be honest, as far as I'm concerned, it's not the reason we're havin' this discussion here."
Chris pursed his lips, staring at the other man, examining his body language for tells and not bothering to hide it. "Really?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Really," Vin answered, not shifting at all under the scrutiny. "Don't confuse me trustin' you with my back and my life for somethin' else, Cowboy. I don't know you anywhere near well enough yet for me to be pinnin' any hopes and dreams on your pale hide."
For some reason, this made Chris grin again. It also gave him something new for his racing mind to focus on. "You like my pale hide," he said casually, as he reached up and threw Vin's hat to join his own.
"Didn't say I didn't," Vin said, as Chris' hands moved to Vin's jacket, causing him to shift back a bit. "Chris…you didn't tell me what you're plannin'…"
Chris grabbed the front of Vin's shirt, pulling the slightly smaller man back to him. "Maybe I misunderstood you, but I thought you just said that this wasn't the reason you care whether I'm going or staying," he said.
"It ain't," Vin said, shaking his head, "but I'm not goin' to let you put me off. I want you to tell me what you're thinkin'. If you're plannin' on quittin' this here town."
"Obstinate cuss, aren't you?" He reached to pull Vin's shirt out of his pants, only to sigh when Vin stepped away again. "Fine," he said. "I'll tell you. I'll tell you. Just stop squirming, would you?"
"Stoppin'," Vin said, stilling so that Chris' hands lay resting on his lower abdomen. "Now talk, or I'll start bein' obstinate again."
Chris let his hands wander as he pondered what to say. Vin wasn't as thickly built as other men Chris had lain with over the years, the handful or so Chris had found himself with whenever the odd urge for someone solid and strong made itself known, but he wasn't exactly a scarecrow either. His lean muscles felt good under Chris' fingers, reminding him of why he'd taken a chance on bedding this new character in his life, of why he'd continued to do so over these last few weeks, even though they both knew such behavior was dangerous. That first night, he'd touched him, run his hands over skin slightly darker than his own, tasted Vin's salt and musk as he'd bit and kissed him, felt Vin's warmth shudder as Chris buried his cock, and decided that it was worth making this more than a one-time thing.
It still was, was the Hell of it. Even if Chris hadn't been thinking all that much about what to do about Vin when and if he chose to leave town.
When and if.
What was he going to do?
Vin waited as Chris thought, not resisting as Chris touched him, but not exactly helping either. His blue eyes were searching, their gaze running over Chris, as if he thought that by looking hard enough, he could see into Chris' soul and read what the other man was thinking.
If only, Chris thought. If only he could, maybe then he could tell me.
I wish someone could tell me.
Finally, Vin shifted, and Chris knew he was running out of time. He responded by wrapping his arms around Vin's waist and pulling him tightly enough that the other man couldn't fight when Chris grabbed him by the back of the head and kissed him deep and hard. He wove his fingers into Vin's long, curly hair and hoped the threat of losing a chunk of it would keep Vin from either stomping his foot or kneeing him in the groin. Meanwhile, Chris' tongue pushed its way into Vin's mouth, ignoring the very real danger of having it bitten, or even bitten off.
It was worth it, Chris decided. Besides, if Vin bit Chris' tongue, then Chris wouldn't have to give him an answer.
Eventually, the need for air beckoned, and Chris pulled back, amazed that he'd survived the last few minutes without losing pieces of his body. He looked at Vin's face and realized by the other man's expression that he'd been lucky, but that his luck was perilously close to running out.
Completely out.
He went for the first words that came to mind. "I'm not leaving tomorrow," he said. "Beyond that, I don't know." He kissed Vin again, lightly this time, as he relaxed his hold on his hair. "Ask me then and I'll tell you what I'll be doing the next day and what I might be doing the day after that. Like I said, beyond that…I don't know." He stepped back, leaving his only connection to Vin his hands resting on Vin's arms. "Is that enough, or are you about to punch me?"
Chris waited a moment, and when he got no answer, chose to take another step back, giving Vin more space, only the ends of Chris' fingers still touching the other man. Vin was deathly quiet, and as the seconds passed, his narrowed eyes seemed to be all the response Chris was going to get, so Chris braced himself for what he felt sure was coming next.
Fortunately, as Vin had pointed out earlier, they didn't know each other well enough yet for there not to be surprises.
Vin relaxed under Chris' fingertips, not smiling exactly, but no longer scowling either. "I reckon I'm always goin' to want to punch you somewhat," he said, releasing a pent-up breath. "But…I can accept havin' a sense of you on just a day to day basis. To be honest, it's probably all any of us will be able to give for a while yet. So, I'm thinkin' it's not fair for me to expect you to be different from the rest of us." He frowned, more off into the general space of the room than at Chris. "Like you said, the townspeople already expect enough of that from you. Be nice if you had somebody that wasn't pullin' at you that way."
Chris tightened his hold on Vin, wrapping his own arms around him once more, and smiled a real smile, not his death's head grin. "Thank you," he said, kissing him shortly before bringing him in tightly and diving into him again.
Somewhere off in the distance, they both heard a rooster crowing.
Chris backed away. "God damn it," he said, letting Vin go and walking to the door. "Take your clothes off and get in the bed. Now." He looked back over his shoulder and saw confusion in Vin's eyes. "I said, now. I think we've stalled long enough, don't you?"
Vin started unbuttoning his shirt, but he still appeared befuddled. "Um, Chris? Ain't people gonna be knockin' on your door?"
"Let 'em," Chris said, turning the key in the lock and then pushing the chair against it. "The first person who does it is going to get an earful about how I've been up for nearly thirty-six hours now, and that I'm not coming out until I catch up on all of my sleep." He started taking off his boots, throwing them towards the space where the chair used to be. "JD was the one stupid enough to want to be sheriff of this place. It seems only right that if they want answers, they go to him from now on."
With that, Chris moved on to the rest of his clothes, while Vin watched, a small half-smile on his face. "So you're just gonna growl at people until they go away?" Vin asked.
Chris grinned as he unbuttoned his shirt. He hadn't quite thought of it that way, but he liked the wording of it. "Yeah, that's the plan. How's it sound?"
Vin smiled and Chris found himself making other plans for what he wanted to do with that mouth. "Sounds good to me, Cowboy," he said.
Chris threw a sock at him. "Quit callin' me that," he said.
Vin caught it and threw it back. "Sure thing…Cowboy."
Chris shook his head and made more plans.
Many, many more plans.
Outside his door, somebody knocked.
And the first of several years' worth of maneuvers began.
**********************************************************************************
The mid-afternoon sun was warm, Josiah thought, as he stood outside the saloon and watched the town he'd recently become an oddly fitting part of settle itself back into its regular rhythms. The morning had been an uncertain one, the chaos beginning practically from the first moments Josiah and the others had risen from their beds and become conscious enough to take stock of it. Gathering themselves as quickly as they were able, they soon realized that one of their number had mysteriously vanished, another had loudly barricaded himself in his room at the boardinghouse, and a congregation's worth of people had turned up at the jail, wanting answers about what had happened the night before. Unable to get the townsfolk to give them time to try talking Chris out of his well-defended shelter and equally unable to escape the area surrounding the jail without receiving either an earful or one or more agitated bodies blocking their way, there had been a few minutes where the situation had gotten downright tense, and Josiah found himself locking eyes with Nathan, wondering if they were about to be called to harm this flock they'd all been working so very desperately to protect.
Then the miracle happened. Somehow JD and Buck started getting through to some of the townspeople, calming the crowd in fits and starts, until the entire whole became much more manageable. Slowly, they were able to convince small groups, including one led by the newspaperwoman Mary Travis, to hold their tongues and listen to the five peacekeepers, giving Josiah and Ezra and Nathan chances to weigh in with their own explanations. With Mrs. Travis' subsequent support, the five of them were then able to bring the overall mood down to a far less intense level, ultimately creating an atmosphere where they could quiet the people's fears and convince them that the man who'd killed two adults, two teenagers, and one far-too-young, little girl had indeed gone to Hell and taken his devil's soul with him.
Within a few hours, the task was finished, and all that was left was to tend to a few stragglers. This gave Josiah a chance to catch his breath outside the jail and ask two of his fellows what they thought of what had just happened.
Standing in the morning sun and brushing at his fine red jacket, Ezra didn't seem inclined to answer at first, wanting instead to go on about how Chris had the right idea about going back to bed and not letting anyone pull him from it. It wasn't until Nathan glanced back at the jail and said, "People trust 'em. They both talk straight to people, like they got nothin' and no reason to hide, so people trust 'em," that the gambler deigned to nod, catching Josiah's eye as he did so.
Now, hours later, Josiah stood by himself and pondered everything he had seen and heard over the last few weeks. He still didn't have all the pieces he needed to fully comprehend the men he'd joined up with—that would take time; months, if not years—but he did have enough to give himself at least an idea of what staying with them would be like. It would not necessarily be easy; they all had their quirks and flaws to go with their skills and strengths. But if they could survive without killing each other…
If they could survive without killing each other, there might be some real possibilities here.
Possibilities.
What a delightful word.
Fin.