It took every scrap of self control to resist the urge to shove his clenched fist through the damned window.

The glare reflecting off the hoods and windshields of dozens of cars seared his staring eyes, but he knew if he turned his gaze back into the room, he’d be inexorably drawn back to that door.  Back to that half-heard narrative.

He could feel Buck’s attention, knew the man had seated himself as close as possible to the archway into the hall, prepared to put himself between Chris and the forbidden post outside Vin’s room.

Oh, Vin.  My fault.  My fault.

Buck’s earlier words swam around in his head.  Not his fault.  Selfish.  World doesn’t revolve around Chris Larabee.

But he also knew Buck was wrong.  At least about the fault part.  And Vin knew it, too.

Finally, he forced his eyelids to drop, after-glare flaring redly in his mind.  He turned and slid bonelessly into the padded chair below the window.

He’d managed some bad mistakes at various times in his life.  But this monumental fuckup was his prize accomplishment.

For a few moments, he allowed himself to find a measure of solace in memory.  Moments of the time he’d spent with his Texan partner teased and soothed.  Vin, taunting and laughing down at him from the loft in the barn.  Galloping beside him, Peso’s reins loose around the horn, Vin’s head and arms flung back in sheer joy.  Four feet away, perched on the barn roof as they worked together to repair the storm-damaged shingles.  Six hours they’d worked, hardly exchanging a word, but in perfect concert.

His mouth couldn’t help but relax into a smile. 

Then there were those other times.  Intimate, hot, abandoned.  Vin straddling his body, mapping his chest with tongue, lips  and gentle teeth.  Beneath him, head tossing in mindless sensation.  Leaping onto his back from behind the door, fingers and teeth busily worrying at Chris’s clothes, laughter ringing in his ears.  As a lover, Vin was wild and surprising.  A child of raw passion.

As a lover…

And there was the crux of the problem.  For the first time, he really let himself recall what he’d seen in Vin’s face and eyes during those breath-stealing encounters.  Not just play.  Not just the horny need to scratch an itch.  Devotion, adoration, and sometimes the unmistakable hint of aching, wistful longing.

He’d made the rules.  Vin had agreed.  But it had been wrong, wrong, wrong. 

Vin had already been in love.

And Chris?  He forced himself to take that final step and look at the desires that had driven the events of the past couple of weeks.

Sarah was gone.  He wasn’t going to walk into a bar some day and find himself face-to-face with her reincarnation.

Was there another Sarah out there for him?  Was there the possibility of another precious child? 

Maybe.

But was that possibility worth more than what he’d already found?

Because he knew now that Chris Larabee was also in love.  He’d finally allowed himself to honestly contemplate the vision of himself and his feisty Texan living their lives together.  And the view filled his heart with warmth and joy.

Allowing himself to have Vin meant giving up that other vision of a future.  Was he ready for that?

His eyes snapped open, and with a sudden burst of enlightenment everything Buck had been trying to tell him became clear.

Was he ready?  Hell, yes! 

He surged to his feet as Nick Adamson quietly emerged from Vin’s room.

Damn right he was ready.  But he also had a lot of work to do.

Buck’s teeth worried at his lower lip as he watched the silent struggle going on over by the window.  As well as he knew Chris Larabee, he found he currently had no idea what was going on in the man’s head.

The snick of an opening door caught his attention.  He twisted around, meeting Nick’s somber gaze.  The detective smiled sadly as Buck stood and stepped quickly down the hall.  He felt more than saw Chris move to stand in the entrance arch to the lounge.

“We’re finished.  No real surprises.”  Adamson drew a deep breath.   “That’s one hell of a man, Buck.”

Buck’s chin lifted.  “Damn right he is.”

“The one thing confirmed by what Tanner had to say is that there was a third man involved. We were already pretty sure there was, and we’ve got several avenues to pursue to find him.  The van is still missing, so we figure he’s got it.  And we’ve got blood evidence.  I’m betting we’ll find him in the database.  That apartment was also filthy with prints.”  He sighed.  “However, he is still out there, and we know they got a look at Tanner’s I.D.  So there’s some chance that your boy could be in the line of fire.  Watch him.”

Buck nodded, brow furrowing.  “We will.  We’re already plotting.  He ain’t an easy one to corral, but there are six of us to sit on him.  We’ll keep him safe.”

Nick nodded and offered his hand.  “Nice to see you again, Buck.  Sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

Gripping Nick’s hand firmly, Buck nodded.  “Keep in touch.”

“And keep us informed.” 

Nick glanced past Buck.  “We’ll do that, Mister Larabee.  But this is DPD’s business, not ATF’s.  I’m fully aware of your reputation, and while I have all kinds of respect for you and your team, we don’t need you interfering.  Let us do our job.  You just take care of Vin.”

Buck watched the muscles jump in Chris’s jaw.  Finally, Chris nodded sharply, reaching out to shake Nick’s hand.

“Thanks, Adamson.  And sorry about…”  Chris jerked his head toward Vin’s room.

“Well, I can’t say I don’t understand.  He might be ready to let you back in, but I wouldn’t count on it.”  A small flicker of amusement lit the detective’s eyes.  “He’s apparently got more than a little fire in his belly.  I’ll be in touch.”

With a final nod to Buck, he left them alone, staring down the hall at that door.

Buck exchanged a glance with Chris, then moved resolutely along the corridor.  He paused with his hand on the doorknob, then took a deep breath, tightened his fingers and pushed into the room.

“Hey, Junior?”

“Get out, Buck.”

Buck winced at the small, betraying shake in the raspy voice.

“Hey, Vin.  We’re sorry.  We just…”

“I know.  Just leave me alone.”

“Vin…”  Chris pushed past Buck to move to the bedside.  “Vin, I really need to…”

Vin’s head jerked to the side, pointedly staring away from Chris. 

“Get t’ hell outta here, Buck!”  The shake was worse, and Buck was sure he could see a bit of color flushing Vin’s ashen cheeks.

“C’mon, buddy.  You…”

Buck’s plea was interrupted by the insistent beep of a pager.  Chris’s.  And a moment later, Buck’s.

“Damn!” Chris spat softly, pulling the offending device out of his pocket.

“Goddamit!” Buck snarled.  “Talk about lousy timing!”

Vin had actually turned his head enough to meet Buck’s eyes.  Buck moved gently between Chris and the bed, leaning over the injured man.

“Sorry, Vin.  Gotta go back up Team Five.  They got no sense of timing, buddy.”   Forcing himself to ignore the flinch at his touch, he gripped Vin’s shoulder.  “We’ll be back.  Hopin’ you’ll be feeling a bit more sociable.”

Somber blue eyes gazed up at him, then Vin’s shaggy head shook back and forth.  “Ain’t likely.”

Bracing his arm against the insistent body behind him, Buck clucked his tongue lightly.  “Sure it is, Vin.  Believe me, it’ll get better.”

The repeat of the pagers’ beeped signals forced Buck away from the bed, and Chris took the opportunity to slide past and into the chair.

“Hey, Cowboy,” he whispered softly.  “I know you don’t want to talk to me just now.  Know this was all my fault.”

Vin’s brows wrinkled in surprise, his gaze finally settling on the older man’s face.

“I’ve got a hell of a lot to say to you, Vin.  A ton to apologize for.  Right now I’m just gonna beg that you give me a bit of time… just a few minutes… after we finish this op.”

Vin turned away again, silent and sad. 

Buck watched with grim approval as Chris slipped his hand through the rails to give Vin’s thin fingers a brief squeeze.

“We’ll be back.  Soon as we can.”  Chris’s low voice was rough with pain.

He stood and strode past Buck and out of the room.

Buck glanced back as he followed Chris’s stiff shoulders through the door.  A tiny sliver of hope raised its feeble head as he met a sorrowful, slightly wistful gaze.

He smiled gently.  “We’ll be back,” he whispered.

He was rewarded with a small, hesitant nod.

Feeling centuries older than he had four hours earlier, Buck eased into Vin’s room.  He nodded with approval at the sight of the slumbering body in the bed.  Vin looked to be sleeping peacefully.

Buck lowered himself gingerly into the uncomfortable bedside chair, every joint aching, and let his head drop back.  Without waiting for permission, his eyes slid shut.

God, what a day.  What a hellish day.

“Hey, Bucklin?”

Surprised, he jerked his head up, then grabbed his neck in protest.  “Ow!  Shit!”

Vin winced in sympathy.

“Aw, hell, that hurts!”  Buck rubbed the spasming crick.  “I do hate it when that happens!”

Vin’s lips curved upward slightly.  “Yeah.  Me too.  Least it could do is warn ya.”

“Yeah, nothin’ like impolite body parts.”  Buck sat forward, forcing himself to smile at the injured man.  “How ya doin’, pard?”

Vin appeared to consider the question with deep concentration.  “Better.  I’m doin’ better.”

“That’s great, Vin.  You’ll be outta here and tearin’ apart the range’s accuracy records again before ya know it.”

Grimacing, Vin reached for the bed control and elevated his head.  “Right.”

Buck quickly grabbed the glass of tepid water from beside the bed, sliding it into Vin’s reaching hand.

“Thanks.”

As he sipped the water, Vin’s serious gaze stayed on Buck’s face. 

“Ya gonna tell me?”

Buck’s brows arched.  “What?”

“Whatever.  You’re fussin’ on something.”

Briefly, Buck considered trying to deflect the question.

“Give it up, Bucklin.  Somethin’ go wrong with the bust?”  Abruptly, he lurched forward, free hand reaching for Buck’s wrist.  “Somethin’ happen to Chris?”

“Easy, son,” Buck soothed, covering those clutching fingers with his other hand.  “Chris is fine. Just up to his ears with the post-mission paperwork. You’d think we wouldn’t have so much to do, seeing as how we were the backup, not the principles. But we’re all fine.  Well, almost.”

“Almost?  So what, then?”

Sighing, Buck leaned back again.  “Josiah and I took a bit of a fall.  I’m fine, just bruised up. Found myself a nice, soft profiler to break my fall. But ol’ Josiah’s got himself a broken ankle.”

“But he’s gonna be all right, isn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah.”  Buck patted the hand still wrapped around his wrist.  “Just a bit hobbled for a while.  Gonna make that conference real interesting.”

“So, what?  Yer lookin’ like somebody ran off with your black book.”

Unable to suppress a small smile, Buck shook his head.  “We’re fine.  Team Five isn’t.”

“Shit.”

“Oh, yeah.  Lost Andrews and Petrewski.”

“Damn.  Lost?  As in…”

“Yup.”

Vin leaned back against his pillow, eyes drifting shut.  “Aw, hell.  What t’hell happened?”

“Not completely sure.  Doesn’t look like anyone screwed up, but…”

“How’d they lose Petrewski?  He should have been way out of the line of fire.”

“He was.  One of the stupid bastards tried to take off in their van.  Ran the damned thing right through the tower supports and into the back wall.  Gas tank went, and took a fuckin’ van full of explosives with it.”

“He fell?”

“Yeah.  Damned rotten way to die.  Fallin’ off a stupid water tower.”

For a few seconds, they shared a sorrowful silence.

“What about Baker?”

“Chris had him on top of the building, thank God.  I’ll tell ya, Vin.  He did a hell of a job.  If it hadn’t been for his cover, we’d have lost a lot more than we did.  Startin’ with me and Josiah.  We were sittin’ ducks.”

Vin nodded slowly, then turned to look at Buck.  Buck settled into the chair, letting his hand rest on the metal rail of the bed. The room was silent as the two men joined together in mourning the loss of two friends.

“So,” Buck heaved a deep breath, mentally shaking himself. “Talked to the doc. You’re out of here tomorrow.”

“So they tell me.”

Buck didn’t like the flat sound of that voice.

“You talk to the therapist.”

Vin’s sharp jaw clenched. He shot a flinty look at Buck, then turned to gaze out the window. “Yes. I did.”

“And?”

“And what?” He turned back to face Buck. “Pointless, stupid, useless, is what.”

Buck sighed. “C’mon, Vin. Give it a chance.”

“Chance for what? You tell me, Buck. How’d you like to discuss… this… with some idiot stranger? How many secrets you willing to toss ‘im just to get ‘im off your back? Tell me.”

With a grimace, Buck leaned back, shaking his head. This was no surprise. He couldn’t think of any man less likely to accept the help of a psychologist than Vin Tanner. Well, maybe one. But they’d all known this probably wasn’t going to be much help to their young friend.

“Okay, ease off, Junior. I understand. Just glad you did it, because I don’t think they were gonna be happy to turn you loose without it.”

“Why do you think I agreed? Jus’ want out of this damned prison! Need to go home.”

“Well, now, that’s just not gonna happen, Vin.”

“Buck!”

“We’ve been through this, kid. No way are you going back to that rat’s nest you call an apartment!”

“That’s m’home you’re talking about, Buck!”

“Yeah, it is. But not for the next few weeks. You’re going to Josiah’s house.”

“Thought Josiah broke his ankle.”

“He did. The two of you can take care of each other. And the rest of us will be in and out, looking after both of you.”

“Damnit, I ain’t no baby! Ain’t got nothin’ broken, everything’s workin’, even if it is a bit rough! I’m going home!”

Buck lurched to his feet and leaned over the bed, hands resting on either side of Vin’s shoulders, forcing the younger man to look up into his face.

“Now you listen to me, you stupid pup! That third bastard is still out there, and he knows where you live. No way in hell are you going home, and no way do you go anywhere without at least one of the team on your tail!”

Vin scowled up at him. “Ain’t part of the team any more.”

Buck’s face softened as he stared into the stormy eyes. “You just don’t get it, do you, Junior? You could drag that scrawny butt of yours to China for ten years, and when you came back, you’d still be part of this team.”

Vin’s eyes widened as he stared into Buck’s face. His mouth dropped open, and for a moment his face reflected a confused vulnerability that shot straight into Buck’s notoriously soft heart.

“T…ten years?”

“Twenty years. Fifty years, kid. We’ve got you, and we ain’t gonna let you get away.”

Vin’s face turned away. “Reckon I could go to Josiah’s.”

Buck grinned. “Reckon you could.”

Part 12