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The Gemini Man	By : ladyinkslinger Category: M through R > Magnificent Seven Views: 2195 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Magnificent Seven, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Gemini Man
- 2-Chapter 2 of 2
- 1
- 2
"We should've got something for Chris."

Buck shook his head. "What could we have brought him that'd been any better than what they bring him on a tray? It's the same stuff, JD. Green rubber that passes for Jell-O and this...cup o' iodine you insisted on."

"You don't have to drink it."

"Yes, I do," said Buck as they turned down the hall to Chris's room. "I was up all night with Vicki and I need the caffeine."

"Vicki again? I thought she was too wild for you," said JD, trying not to spill his own coffee as he edged past a mousy-looking young man in a delivery uniform.

"Son," Buck continued, "Ain't no woman too wild for ol' Buck here."

They froze in the doorway, coffee cups dropped to the floor. Chris was convulsing in the bed and rapidly turning blue.

"Help! We got a Code Blue in here!" shouted JD. Doctors and nurses seemed to pour into the room from every part of the corridor.

Anne ran up to the two men. "I'm sorry, boys, but you'll have to go now."

JD was the first to recover. He pulled Buck's arm. "C'mon. We gotta let the others know what happened."

Buck stared at him, open-mouthed. "What DID happen?"

It was hours before the five men were assured that Chris was stable in ICU, hours that moved so slowly that they seemed to be standing still.

"When can we see him," Nathan had asked.

"Maybe tomorrow," Anne suggested. "We're still trying to find out how he got so much lidocaine into his system. That coupled with his other medications...He's very lucky. After thirty minutes, there's not much we could have done. But he survived the first hour, so it's likely he'll recover. You can talk to his doctor later, if you'd like."

"Thanks, ma'am."

"He was supposed to be going home," Buck muttered sadly to no one in particular.

Josiah squeezed his shoulder. "He will. Just not today, and not tomorrow."

"We only left him for a minute. What could've happened?"

Ezra stood up with a sigh. "I think it must be someone's mission in life to find the most uncomfortable chairs possible for a waiting room. Perhaps a descendant of the de Sade family..." He started to stroll the hall a little, when he passed a candy striper carrying flowers to a shelf near Chris's bed.

The undercover agent looked at them quizzically. "Where did those come from?" he asked her.

"They were in his room. I thought he might like to have them in here so he can see them when he wakes up."

"Really," Ezra said, bemused. "May I look at those?"

Vin fidgeted nervously in the cafeteria. This place was getting to be a habit and he hated it now more than he ever had. But he couldn't go to ICU. The whole team would be there. It wasn't that he was afraid of Buck. Far from it. He just didn't want them creating any trouble for the staff with his presence. He looked at the untouched meal in front of him and idly twirled a spoon in his fingers. The phone call of a few hours ago continued to play over and over in his head.

"Something's happened and Chris is critical. Wait for me in St. Seb's cafeteria." Click.

He stared out the window, trying to think about something else, but his brain wouldn't let him.

"Are you going to eat any of that?"

Vin looked up in surprise as Ezra took the seat across from him.

"Took you long enough," the sharpshooter said dourly. "What the hell happened?"

Ezra picked up a muffin from the tray and began to butter it. "Right now the indication is some kind of overdose of a local anesthetic, possibly lidocaine."

"How in the hell did that happen?"

Ezra shook his head and swallowed. "No one knows yet."

"He was supposed to go home, too," Vin said sadly. "I know how much he hates hospitals. Even when he's not a patient."

"It happened just after his flowers arrived. I removed the card before Buck saw it." Ezra took another bite of the muffin.

"Flowers? From who?"

Ezra stopped in mid-chew and stared at him, wide-eyed. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small, white envelope, and handed it to Vin.

Vin looked at him, then carefully opened it. His fingers shook slightly and his jaw clenched as he silently read the short, handwritten message inside.

"Best wishes for a speedy recovery. Jared and Vin."

Vin pounded angrily on the door.

"Jared! I know you're in there!"

The door opened and the young man stood there, blinking at him. "Isn't it a little late?" He looked at Vin with concern. "Did something happen to the--to Chris?"

Vin pushed past him and strode into the apartment. "He's in ICU. Don't you know? You were there." He pulled out the card in his jacket pocket and held it up. Jared looked at it, his face expressionless.

"I sent him flowers. What about it? I did you a favor. I should think you'd be grateful," he sniffed.

"You don't even know him!" Vin took a step toward him. "But I know all about them flowers. Ezra told me. Those particular ones are for REMEMBRANCE. They're used in funerals."

Jared shrugged. "So I can't pick out flowers."

"What else did you do?" Vin sprang at him, the front of Jared's shirt wadded up in his fist.

Jared's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'what else?' What are you accusing me of? You'd better be able to prove I did anything other than be a nice guy and send someone some flowers..."

"If I find out that you had anything to do with why he's still in the hospital--"

"ME?" Jared said hotly, as if stung. "YOU'RE the one that put him there!"

Vin inwardly recoiled at the verbal slap. The two men stared at each other furiously. Finally, Vin released him and turned to go, saying in a low, dangerous voice, "Just keep away from him."

Someone was after Chris and he was trying desperately to escape. He couldn't be sure who it was because the face kept changing between that of his attacker and that of Vin. Neither face, though, was entirely clear and that was partly what frightened him. He tried to run, turning down this corridor -- where was he? A hospital? -- and down that corridor. He was screaming for help but the halls were deserted. He no longer heard the footsteps of his pursuer as he turned a corner. There was a stabbing pain in his gut and he fought as hard as he could. He
could feel his body weakening...

"Chris! Chris, wake up!" a feminine voice urged him gently. "C'mon, Chris, turn over. You're laying on your appliance...C'mon, I'll help you..." It was his nurse, Anne, and she was gently but firmly helping him to turn from his side to his back.

She smiled gently. "Bad dream?" He nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?" Chris didn't respond. She stroked a stray lock of his hair. "You gave everyone quite a scare but it looks like you're getting much better. The doctor's going to release you tomorrow. Your friends are here right now along with hospital security. Do you feel up to describing the man who was in your room?"

Chris nodded. He wanted to get it over with. Realistically, he doubted he could be much help, though. He couldn't remember too many details. It had happened quickly and he had been medicated already.

He closed his eyes and sighed as Josiah, Nathan and a hospital security officer entered the room.

That afternoon, five of Team 7 had gathered at the office.

"This is the description," said Josiah. "It's not very detailed, but Chris did the best he could."

"I just talked to Anne," added Nathan. "He's still improving, so he may be able to go home soon after all."

"Where do we start?" JD asked.

Josiah shook his head. "It's like a needle in a haystack right now. Chris indicated he'd never seen the man before, but since he called Chris by name, we can be sure it wasn't a random attack."

"Then we start with the files?"

Nathan nodded. "It's a start. How about you, Ezra? Any ideas?"

"Not yet." Ezra wanted to tell them about the card, but he still wasn't sure how deeply implicated it would make Vin. He had decided to wait and see if the team really needed to know about it.

The men were going through the files with such deep concentration, they didn't hear anyone come in.

"Excuse me?" A dark, slightly-built, Hispanic-looking young man stood in the doorway. "Is Vin Tanner here?"

"No, he's not," Nathan replied.

The young man licked his lips, his eyes darting around the office. "Why not?" the man blurted suddenly. "Did something happen?"

Ezra's eyes narrowed slightly. "What makes you say that?"

"Just..." The man shifted from foot to foot.

"Sit down," Josiah said gently. "I'm Josiah Sanchez. And you are...?

"My name's Marco. I used to live with an ex-roommate of Vin's."

The five men moved closer, watching him intently.

Ezra sat on a corner of the desk. "Please go on."

Marco sat. "Can I have some water?" JD quickly handed him a cup and he sipped it, still nervous under the five pairs of staring eyes. "DID something happen?"

"Yes," said Josiah, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Something did. But you knew that."

Marco shook his head. "I thought so. Jared Graham--that's my ex-roommate--he's kind of, well, odd." The words came out in a rush. "I mean, he seemed okay at first, you know? Really nice guy, always trying to do you a favor. But he's obsessed. It was always 'Vin this' and 'Vin that'. I thought they'd been...like...you know...lovers or something...and that was some ungrateful asshole who'd dumped him. Until I got to know Jared better and then I met Vin and thought 'there's no way this guy would go for Jared.' Jared, he's real clingy. He
was getting like that with me. Like we had some kind of relationship. I just moved out."

"What does this have to do with something happening?" asked Josiah.

Marco looked at him. "He's been talking about Vin ever since a party I had just before I moved out. Vin was there and Jared...I think Jared's been...this is gonna sound weird, I know...but I think Jared's been stalking him or something. He's really pissed about some guy named Chris..."

Nathan handed him the description. "Is this him?"

Marco nodded. "Sounds like him. He didn't hurt nobody, did he? I'm not too late?"

"No," Josiah said gently. "You're just in time. Here." He handed the young man a card, "Write down your phone number in case we need to contact you and Jared's address. And take my card."

Marco put it in his pocket. "I'll put it in my wallet as soon as I get a new one."

"Oh?" Ezra looked at him. "What happened to your wallet?"

"Stupid thing. I lost it a week ago before taking a few days off to move. Now that I'm going back to work, I'll need that and a photo ID, too. The lab won't let me in without it."

"Lab?"

"I'm a lab assistant," the young man explained. "Pharmaceuticals. Doesn't pay much at entry level, which is why I had a roommate. But after Jared--hell, I can give up eating if it means I don't have to live with him." He stood up and started out of the office. "Keep an eye on Vin, right? He seems like a nice guy."

"We will. Thanks."

The next morning, Vin awoke to feel his cell phone vibrating against his hip. He cursed at his stiff muscles as he sat up in the chair in his living room. He had fallen asleep in front of the TV. He quickly clicked the remote as he answered the phone. The last thing he'd heard was that Chris had moved back into a room and out of ICU. His hand shook slightly as he pressed the button on the phone.

"Chris is going home today," said Ezra. "Buck's taking him home. And we've got an ID."

"Jared?" Vin's grip tightened on the phone until his knuckles went white as Ezra recounted Marco's visit..

"He's disappeared, Vin."

Vin's grip didn't relax. "He'll show up. Sooner or later. Thanks, Ezra."

The two finished their call and Vin rubbed a hand through his hair. This whole thing, it was all his fault. He has brought this on. Him and his former association with Jared. He almost couldn't bear the thought of bringing so much suffering onto the one man he loved in all the world. He wanted...he wanted to just disappear, to leave, to...die. He sighed wearily and sat in front of his computer, staring blankly at the screen.

It was the first rest Buck had had in what seemed like ages. He knew he needed it, and had only agreed to do so when he realized that collapsing in exhaustion wouldn't help Chris or the team, who had spent the evening searching for Jared. He'd slept like a dead man most of the night, finally awakened by JD, who'd been home for the night and was already headed back out to join the search.

Buck had wanted to join him, but Nathan made him promise to give it a few hours more. Just a FEW, as far as Buck was concerned. But first he had to take Chris home from the hospital. He knew his friend would be tired and downright antisocial, but it was still a task he was looking forward to.

Now he was sprawled on the sofa, a bottle of beer in hand despite the fact that it wasn't yet noon, and staring unseeingly at the TV. How had things gone so horribly wrong? Chris was like a brother to him; the kind that could be stubborn and irritatingly independent, sometimes disappearing off the face of the earth, but still, he was like family. Just like Sarah had been. Just like Adam. Just like Vin? He wasn't sure. He hadn't known Vin long, but Chris trusted him and that said a lot. And then the relationship between Chris and Vin went in a whole
new direction. It wasn't something Buck could ever embrace, but if it eased the painful loneliness, if it made Chris happy, what could he do? After the man had suffered so much, how could he say anything?

Did Chris really love Vin that much? Enough to cover for him when he had not only betrayed Chris's trust, but he had committed a crime, too?

He sipped his beer thoughtfully. Suddenly a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"When did you start watchin' Martha Stewart?"

Buck scowled but continued to face the TV. "Didn't hear you knock, Tanner."

"Probably 'cause I didn't."

"What do you want? Whatever it is, it better take less time than it'd take for me to strangle you."

"Don't worry." Vin approached him and held out a folded piece of paper.

Buck set his beer down on the coffee table to take it from him. "What's this?"

"You're the acting head of the team, right? It's...I'm resignin'...Here's my keys...cell phone...ID..." He emptied his pockets onto the coffee table and looked at Buck. Buck was fingering the letter, but had made no move to unfold it. "Ain't you gonna--"

"I know what it says. It says you quit." Buck sipped his beer. "Probably best for all concerned."

Vin shifted awkwardly. "Yeah," he agreed quietly and turned to go.

"Close the door behind you, or all kinds of folks'll wander in..."

Buck heard the door close softly. Angrily, he wadded the paper up into a tight ball and flung it across the room. He rubbed his face with a tired sigh.

Yes, everything had gone horribly wrong, all right. Giving up on the idea of a nap, he stood and stretched his lanky frame. It was time to take Chris home.

Vin spent the day driving slowly through his old neighborhood, trying to guess where Jared would be. Jared's life was molded by whoever he lived with. He adopted their hangouts as his own. That meant no discernable pattern. And with few friends, Jared could be almost anywhere.

Now that he was off the team, he had all the time a man could need when he was searching for something he wanted to find very badly. And Vin wanted to find Jared very badly indeed.

For Chris, the late afternoon ride home was a blur. He said nothing, just looked expressionlessly out the window. Buck had tried to engage him in conversation a few times, finally giving up and turning on the car radio.

"Home, sweet home," he announced at last as the car turned up the long driveway.

Chris frowned. It was home, all right, but it didn't feel like home. He looked at it with a sort of detachment as if the property belonged to someone else. The place had changed. It looked the same, but the sense of safety and security was gone. Maybe forever.

Buck rushed over to open the passenger door.

"I can do it," Chris snapped. He didn't mean to, but he'd had enough of that sort of thing in the hospital. He'd be damned if anyone was going to do that to him in his own home.

Chris's knees felt shaky as he walked up the walkway. He opened the door and a rush of stale air greeted him. He hesitated, a momentary chill of fear settling in his bones. He shivered slightly and continued into the house, Buck close behind carrying a pillowcase of Chris's things from his hospital stay that he quickly set down near the kitchen.

"JD and Ezra kept the place clean for ya," he told him.

Chris looked around him. "You'll have to thank them for me," he said in a dull, flat voice.

Buck noted the sweat that had started to bead on Chris's forehead.

"You oughta lie down." He glanced at Chris's hip. "You...uh...need help with that thing?"

"No." Chris's tone was sharp. Instantly, he softened. "No, thanks. I just...just need to lie down, like you said."

Buck followed him to the bedroom. Chris froze in the doorway. The bed had been neatly made. There was no sign of the fight that had happened here. Or the rape.

'Can't you get a young guy to sleep with you any other way?...I don't NEED you, now!'

Chris closed his eyes, his body swayed slightly.

"Chris?" Strong hands supported him as the sheets and blanket were pulled back, and then the same hands helped him sit on the bed. He didn't move as Buck gently, quickly undressed him. "I usually save this skill for ladies," he smiled, "but seein' as how you're a friend..."

Chris watched Buck's face as the colostomy bag was revealed. Buck's eyes glanced at it only for a split-second and he continued with his task, talking all the while. "You been in the hospital, so you don't know, but Ezra got himself this new filly? Name's Melissa. Cute li'l thing...He doesn't know we all know about her yet. We're tryin' to figger out how we're gonna let on that we know about her..." He lifted the sheets. "There ya go, now why don't you just stretch out here..."

Chris obediently slid his legs under the bedcovers. "Thanks, Buck," he said at last.

"Jes' glad t' have ya back. Now I'm gonna go watch a little o' that big-screen TV of yours while you fall asleep and then I'll let myself out. That okay with you?"

"Works for me," Chris yawned. "But I oughta take my meds first. Especially the painkillers. Don't forget the painkillers..." his voice trailed off.

Buck left him there to get some water and Chris's pills from the kitchen. He cursed, as he dug deep inside the pillowcase trying to grasp each of the elusive pill bottles. He pulled out a glass, and paused, wondering if he should add ice. Nah, Chris would be asleep soon anyway. He filled the glass and started back to the bedroom.

What he saw made him stop in the doorway, an icy hand gripping his heart. Chris was curled up in a fetal position, hugging his knees and shaking violently.

"Chris?" Buck rushed to his side.

"I c-c-can't sleep here," he said though chattering teeth. "Pl-please, Buck. I can't...I just...I just can't." Chris started to cry softly.

Buck suppressed a shudder. Damn that Vin Tanner! Buck had never seen Chris like this: the panic in his eyes, the fear and helplessness that physically manifested themselves in the lean fragile-looking body. He pulled Chris to him and held on despite the man's weak struggles.

"You don't have to," he said softly. "If you really don't wanna be here, we'll find someplace else for now." Buck continued to hold him until the trembling in Chris's body stopped. Where the hell would he take him? There was barely enough room for him and JD, and he sure as hell couldn't take him to Vin's. Then he got an idea.

"Chris, I know a place." He retrieved Chris's suitcase from the closet and began to pack it as fast as he could. "Quiet, remote. Real pretty view. You'll like it. It's a little bit o' heaven."

It was night and Vin was tired. He felt as if he'd been driving in circles. Wherever Jared was, he'd done a good job of vanishing. He wanted to believe Jared had left the area entirely but all his instincts told him this just wasn't true.

He parked his motorcycle and walked slowly to his apartment. A hot shower would be good right about now. He pushed open the apartment door. His jaw dropped.

"What the hell--?"

The apartment was a shambles. Everything not nailed down had been overturned or tossed around. All the furniture had been slashed. The curtains and blinds had been torn from their rods. Kitchen cabinets had been emptied onto the floor and some of their contents strewn into the living room. There were broken dishes and glass everywhere. He walked slowly through the apartment. Every room had been touched as if by a tornado.

He paused in the doorway of the bedroom. The bed had been stripped, the bedclothes and mattress slashed and red paint poured on them. Through the open door to the bathroom, he could glimpse the shattered mirror.

But it was the words painted on the walls that bothered him most. His throat seemed to close as he tried to swallow.

"Traitor" and "rapist."

Vin searched the wreckage for the phone. He found the cord, following it through the piles of debris. Surprisingly, it was still intact. He dialed.

"C'mon, c'mon, answer," he muttered anxiously.

"Hello?"

"Ezra? He's been here. The place is trashed."

"How bad?"

Vin looked at the shattered picture frame at his feet. In the midst of it lay a torn photo of him and Chris. "I'm gonna have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight."

"Wise idea. I'm a little concerned, Vin. I don't know how well you think you know this guy, but he sounds very angry. And very dangerous."

"I'll be all right."

"Nevertheless, why don't you stay at my mountain retreat for now?"

"That cabin your ma gave you?"

There was a slight pause of disapproval. "Yes, that 'cabin'. We can deal with your apartment later. Come by my place for the key."

Chris was grateful to be alone at last. Buck had fussed all over and around him, making sure Chris was settled in comfortably. At last, the big Irishman was done.

"I'll be back out here t' check on ya," he'd said. "If ya need anything, just call."

Chris's things had been put in the closet before Buck once again helped him undress and get into bed. Only now Chris wasn't sleepy. He was overtired, and his body was fighting the medications that usually helped him sleep.

He got up at last and walked into the tiny galley kitchen to pour himself a glass of milk. Trust Ezra to keep a well-stocked refrigerator in a home he rarely spent all that much time in. Ezra preferred the city, but it was still a nice place to bring a woman. Or even a man. For an instant, he thought wistfully of Vin, then quickly dismissed the image from his mind. Things were different now.

Chris sighed and put his empty glass in the sink. Maybe a hot shower would help. He needed to change this damn bag anyway. He walked slowly down the hall, turning out the lights as he went. Collecting a fresh bag for his colostomy appliance, he walked into the bathroom. He let his boxers drop to the floor and kicked them off. He turned on the shower as hot as he could stand and stepped inside, planning to be there until the water ran cold.

Vin parked his jeep off to the side of the road near the cabin. The lights were off, which was expected. He knew Ezra never spent much time here, but he was fond of the property nonetheless. It was a nice place. Vin had never spent much time here, but he and various members of the team had been up here to retrieve Ezra from a romantic liaison from time to time. Ezra always protested loudly but Vin would only say "Hazards of the job, Ezra."

"Then I resign."

"Later."

Vin was going to miss that now that he was the one who had resigned. Still, it had been his only option. Chris and the team would be better off for it. Vin was a rapist now, nothing could change that, and he no longer belonged with them. Worse was losing the man he loved because of something that, try as he might, he simply couldn't remember. And that fact made his guilt 100 times worse.

There was just enough moonlight to help Vin negotiate the living room. It was a cozy place, with a big living room and just off there, an open kitchen. It looked like there was only one bedroom in the place. He hesitated, thinking he heard something like...water? No, that was probably a well or stream close to the house. He shifted his duffle to his other hand and continued into the bedroom.

It was unclear who saw who first. Chris was just coming out of the bathroom as Vin was entering the bedroom. The two men looked hesitantly around the room, neither sure what to say to each other and then both of them talking at once.

"Ezra said it'd be okay if--"

"Buck brought me--"

"I should go then," said Vin quickly. "I should...go." It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to stay and tell Chris how much he loved him, how sorry he was, but all of it sounded so lame. He longed to touch him, but how could he? And even if he could, he was sure it was something Chris no longer wanted.

Chris said nothing as Vin picked up his duffle and walked out of the room. He wanted to yell at Vin to stop and to tell him to stay. But he couldn't. He wasn't even sure if that was what he wanted or not. But the fear and betrayal deep in his soul were clearly felt.

Vin put his duffle in the back of the jeep. Nothing was going to get fixed tonight, that was for sure. He climbed into the vehicle and turned the key in the ignition. The engine responded with a few chugs and then stopped. He looked at the instrument panel, puzzled. The tank was empty. Damn! Had he really burned that much gas searching for Jared?

Hell. Damn. He needed to call--Shit! His cell phone was gone. It belonged to the agency and he'd turned it in when he resigned. And with Chris just out of the hospital, it was unlikely he had his. Vin sighed and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. It was like a nightmare that refused to end.

With a heavy sigh of resignation, he went back in the house.

"I need to use the phone," he called out, heading straight for the receiver on the kitchen wall. He picked it up and scowled. Ezra must've forgotten the phone bill to this little hideaway of his.

He looked down the hall. He was going to have to break the bad news to Chris. "Looks like I'm stuck here for the night, Cowboy," he called out. Maybe it would finally be a chance to reconcile with Chris.

No answer.

In times past, the fact that there was only one bedroom wouldn't have been a problem for either of them. But things had changed and neither man was more aware of that fact than now. For Vin, it was obvious he was sleeping on the sofa tonight.

He opened his duffle, pulled out his shaving kit and dropped it on the nearest chair. He quickly yanked off his sweatshirt and shucked his jeans. Normally, he preferred sleeping as Nature intended, but not under these circumstances. He'd settled for some flannel shorts in the interest of modesty. Now he looked at the couch, suddenly aware of the chill night air against his skin.

He started toward the bedroom to get some bedding.

"Chris, I--"

He opened the door and abruptly halted. Chris was already in bed but, at the sound of Vin's entrance, he was now huddled as far back against the headboard as he could get. Chris's move had been instinctive and Vin's stomach clenched at the idea of Chris cowering in fear of him. Chris was just staring at him, waiting to see what he would do.

"What do you want?" His voice was devoid of emotion, despite his body language.

"I--I just came in for some sheets and a blanket." Vin hurried to the large closet, relieved to find spare bedding inside. "I'll just take these and get outta here."

He closed the door behind him and sighed. How could he hope to reconcile with the man if he was going to be like this the entire time they were there together? He was sure of one thing: no one was likely to actually be asleep in this house tonight.

The night was a long, miserable one for Chris, trapped in a cabin with the man who'd raped him. He had already checked the bedroom door, only to find that it had no lock. He hoped - no, prayed - that Buck would return soon for him. And it frightened him to think that he might not.

Tightly curled up in the sheet and blanket, Chris laid there in the dark, his senses keenly alert and his entire body tensing at every sound. He still didn't know why Vin had attacked him before, but he sure as hell wanted to make sure it didn't happen again.

Where was Vin now? What was he doing? He had taken some bedding with him, which meant he was still here, probably sleeping on the sofa. At least, Chris hoped he was sleeping.

Vin was staring at the ceiling. The man he loved - still loved - was so close and yet so out of reach, he might as well have been in another solar system. He missed the way life had been - the emotional intimacy and physical pleasure of mutual desire. He missed being able to touch Chris and to be close to him, breathing in his masculine scent, enjoying the feel of his lean, toned body.

He felt like a deep sense of incompleteness now, like part of him had been removed - something tangible like an arm. His mind exhausted itself trying to think of a way to fix things. Finally, his body gave up, too, and both mind and body fell into a dreamless sleep.

It was mid-morning when Chris awoke with a start. His eyes instinctively darted around the room and he listened carefully for any sounds coming from the rest of the cabin.

Silence.

Slowly, he untangled himself from the bedclothes and headed for the bathroom to attend to his stoma. It was becoming like a part of him now and, much as he still hated it, he was gradually becoming used to its presence.

At least the bathroom had a lock. He stayed in the shower a long time, allowing the steamy, hot water to relax muscles infused with tension. Finally, he emerged, wet and pink. And hungry. Despite his hunger, he was in no hurry to run into Vin, and he took his time dressing before opening the door and going to the kitchen.

Vin had made breakfast. The first thing Chris noticed was the aroma of fresh coffee, then the ham and scrambled eggs. His stomach rumbled with each new smell.

"Mornin' , " Vin said quietly from where he sat at the table. He got up as Chris slowly entered the room. "Sit down and I'll get ya a plate."

Chris stared at the food on the table. "Ain't hungry," he lied.

Vin stopped for a moment to look at him, then continued to set a place. "I saw yer meds on the counter, Chris. Yer supposed t' take 'em with food. Now sit down..." Chris didn't move. "...please."

Reluctantly, Chris pulled out a chair across from Vin and sat at the table. Vin loaded up his plate with hot food, carefully set it in front of him, and sat down again. The blond looked at the plate cautiously, and then slowly picked up a fork.

Vin watched him for a moment, noting Chris's stiff posture and the white-knuckled grip on his fork. Finishing his own breakfast, Vin put his plate in the sink, picked up his coffee and went to sit on the living room sofa where he knew Chris could still see him. He glanced over his shoulder once, to see Chris hungrily attacking his meal, barely chewing as he wolfed it down. His heart sank at the realization that Chris no longer trusted him, not even confident that he could eat a meal unmolested. No, it was more than that. Chris was downright afraid
of him. Maybe if he left him alone for awhile, Chris might relax, might realize that he was safe after all.

Vin hoped one of the guys would come by soon, too. He hated being cut off from the world. Buck was sure to return for Chris, at least, and then they could all get out of here. Until that happened, though, they'd have to get by as housemates.

Gulping the last of his coffee, he hastily grabbed a towel and some camp soap from his backpack and strode outside. As near as he could remember, there was a mountain pool around here somewhere that was fed by a deep volcanic fissure, making the water just warm enough for a bath. And maybe a long walk afterwards.

Chris sat at the table, slowly finishing his coffee now that Vin had gone. Vin had always made good coffee, and he could throw together one hell of a breakfast, too. He stared into the strong, dark brew sadly, his mind drifting to what used to be. He wanted to talk about it with Vin, to get some answers, but he didn't know where to begin or how.

Part of him didn't want to deal with it at all. The pain was still very fresh and very real to him. He cursed softly to himself as he got up to take his medications and to check his appliance one more time. It occurred to him that, now that he was out of the hospital, he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. In the past, just being alone like this with Vin would be enough to fill whatever time there was. In the past.

As for his work, Buck was handling the team's administrative needs - and probably cussing a blue streak over it, too, he thought with a wry smile. He almost felt sorry for Buck.

With nothing in particular to do and with Vin no longer around, Chris decided to check out Ezra's library. The collection didn't surprise him: "Swim with the Sharks," "How to Win Friends and Influence People," "Winning Through Intimidation," several on various types of gambling, a few assorted biographies of various corporate executives, politicians, and generals...At the end of one shelf were books more suited to Chris's tastes: a few philosophical works such as Sartre, Nietzsche, and Aristotle, and a number of
classics. Considering where he found himself, Thoreau's "Walden" wasn't a bad choice, he supposed, but neither was Twain's "Roughing It."

He settled on "Roughing It," and settled into the big leather armchair in the living room to read. He was almost comfortable, he thought. At least until Vin returned.

After his bath, Vin decided to forego getting dressed just yet and stretched out lazily in the sun. If he allowed himself, he could almost pretend that life was back to normal. He could almost pretend that the man back in the cabin, the man he loved most in the world, wasn't afraid to be alone with him. It felt like someone had wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed. He hated feeling like a criminal but, even though he couldn't remember it, he had committed a crime. Chris and his team - his ex-team - were all protecting him, he knew, but it
didn't seem to make much difference. Being off the team and out of Chris's life were as close to a life sentence as he could imagine.

It was late afternoon when Buck was finally getting ready to sign off on the last expense report on Chris's desk. He hated those. If he'd wanted to deal with them, he'd have become a CPA. He would be more than glad when Chris returned to do it.

"Ezra!" he bellowed. After a suitable pause, Ezra sauntered in. Buck scowled at him. "You're supposed to submit ALL your receipts. Where's the one for this 'Living Dolls?' And just what kind of restaurant is that, anyway?"

Ezra raised an eyebrow. "I doubt you've heard of it. It's a place for gentlemen."

"Oh, I've heard of it. And 'gentlemen's club' is closer to the fact. Now were you there on business or not?"

Ezra shrugged and Buck sighed wearily. "I'll sign it this time but if anybody questions it, YOU can explain it to Chris when he gets back. "'Sides, I owe ya a favor."

"Fine. Have we heard from our illustrious leader lately?" Ezra leaned forward, looking at Buck with interest. "And what do you mean you owe me a favor?"

"That's why I'm signin' this. And no, I don't expect to hear from Chris. That's what I mean about a favor. I took him to that cabin of yours to stay for a few days."

Ezra rose out of his chair, his mouth agape. "You did WHAT? When was this?"

"Now, don't panic. I'm sure he won't hurt it none. He was havin' panic attacks in his place, Ezra; I had to take him SOMEWHERE."

"And you--you chose THERE without consulting me?"

"Yeah. What's the big deal? I just picked the lock and--I thought you liked Chris."

Ezra began to pace. "Of course, I like Chris. Don't be ridiculous. Except I gave Mr. Tanner the key to the place. I never dreamed that YOU would leave Chris there--"

"Vin?" Now it was Buck's turn to gape. "You mean to tell me that the two of them are up there right now...?"

"They are unless Mr. Tanner left. And I hope he did." Ezra grabbed the phone on Chris's desk and began to dial. A moment later, he pulled the phone from his ear as the sharp series of beeps indicated the phone line was out of order. "Come on," said Ezra, as he strode into the outer office. "We have to get up there."

Nathan was just getting ready to leave for the day when he saw his teammates. "What's wrong?"

"Maybe nothin'," said Buck, "but we got us a little road trip to Ezra's cabin. You comin'?"

Without a further word, JD, Josiah, and Nathan quickly joined them.

The sky was dusky when Chris finally looked up from his book. Vin had stayed away most of the day and Chris was thankful for that. Now it was time to take his medications again and most likely to change his colostomy bag. He set the book down and, with his handful of the requisite tablets and capsules, headed for the bedroom.

He changed his bag in the bathroom, the way Winnie had shown him, and swallowed down all the medications he was expected to take. Winnie had told him his surgery might be scheduled while he was still in the hospital but it hadn't been yet. It was the first thing he was calling his doctor about as soon as he returned to civilization.

As Chris took his last swallow of water with the last pill, he thought he heard the cabin door open. Vin was back. He stood there a moment, trying to figure out what to do. They were stuck here. There was nothing to do but make the best of it.

"Vin?" He started into the living room. He couldn't be at ease unless he knew where Vin was and what he was doing. "Vin?"

He stopped in the doorway, recognizing his attacker from the hospital. And the young man was holding a gun.

"Did you like the flowers?"

Chris stared icily back at him. "What do you want?"

"I want Vin, of course. He was mine before YOU came along. We had a very loving relationship. He belongs with me."

"You're Jared."

Jared was clearly pleased. "You've heard of me. He must have told you." His expression changed suddenly. "Someone's coming." He stepped back behind the back door. "Not a sound."

Vin opened the back door and calmly walked in, a still-soggy towel bunched up in his hand, his hair hanging in tangled locks. He stopped abruptly and looked at Chris in surprise.

"Met your friend," Chris said quietly, nodding behind Vin.

The sharpshooter whirled around, dropping the towel. "Jared!" He froze when he saw the gun. "What the hell--?"

"Okay, both of you. In the living room. Hands where I can see 'em."

"I'm sorry about this, Chris," Vin said, his eyes never wavering from Jared and the handgun.

"He was telling me about your former relationship," said Chris.

Vin looked at Jared angrily. "It's a LIE. You gotta stop telling people that lie. We never had a relationship!"

"We could have--!" Jared shouted back.

"--NO! No, we couldn't! We were roommates, Jared! Why do you think I moved out? I knew what you wanted. I never felt that way about you!"

Jared smiled at Vin. "You can. It's not too late. I went to a lot of trouble to get what I want. You know...when I slipped that phedrazine into your drinks, I really didn't plan all this." At Vin's surprised look, Jared continued. "Phedrazine. Failed in clinical trials. Had some bad side effects: the report I saw said...let's see...'raises testosterone levels, removes emotional inhibitors, and at the same time, can make patients highly...suggestible, impairing judgment.'" He smiled. "Cool, huh?"

Vin's eyes narrowed, his voice low. "I knew there had to be a reason, Chris."

"I just wanted you two to break up. I figured, worst case, it'd make you into a real asshole with him. But your worst case was better than anything I could've imagined. I never dreamed it'd have the effect it did. It was more than I could've hoped for."

"How'd you get your hands on it?" Chris asked.

"Marco works for a lab. A doctored photo ID can get you into most anywhere."

"That how you got the lidocaine?"

Jared shrugged.

"What happens next?" Chris said at last.

Jared looked at him with contempt. "He comes with me, of course. Where he belongs. With someone who really loves him."

"You don't know how," Chris said with a sardonic smile.

Vin looked at him. "Chris, don't--"

"STOP IT! SHUT UP!" Jared had lost all control and was waving the gun around as he shouted. "You--" As Jared gestured at Chris with his gun hand, there was the sound of a shot.

Chris cried out in pain and crumpled to the floor. Jared stared at him, open-mouthed, for a moment, then tightened his grip on the weapon, a slow smile creeping across his face.

"Shit, Jared!" Vin crouched beside Chris. "What the fuck did you do?" A cursory examination showed that Chris had been hit in his right hip, just opposite and below his surgery.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Jared shouted, pointing the gun at Chris deliberately now, emboldened by the injured man on the floor and his ex-roommate's resulting concern. "This time I'll shoot 'im and mean it! Now let's go."

Vin looked at Chris, who lay on the floor, holding his hip and gasping in pain. Thankfully, the wound didn't look to be bleeding too badly, but Vin knew he'd need medical attention quickly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I have to go. If I don't, he--"

"Go," Chris ground out. "There's nothing else...Maybe a chance later..."

Vin nodded and straightened. "Let's do it," he said to Jared.

Jared quickly forced him outside, tossing him the keys to a small SUV. "You drive," he ordered.

Vin started the car. "How did you know we were here? And how did you know what happened to Chris?"

"You're a cop. You oughta know. You can find out anything if you want to badly enough."

"What are you going to do with me?"

Jared paused, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. It was obvious to Vin that Jared hadn't truly anticipated his success and hadn't thought his plan through far enough.

"Just drive," he said, keeping the gun level at Vin. "I love you, Vin. We need time is all. Time for you to realize how much I'm willing to do for you."

Vin put the SUV into gear and started to pull away. Despite his own danger, he was more concerned about the injured man left on his own in the cabin. He took his attention off Jared as he started to negotiate the first turn and heard a loud explosion. A look in the side view mirror showed the cabin behind him, engulfed in flames against the darkening sky, and finally disappearing behind some trees as the SUV completed the turn.

"FUCK!" He turned to look at his kidnapper in shock. Jared was holding a small remote control device in his hand, a proud, child-like smile on his face.

"Isn't it cool? I learned how to do it off the Internet. And you can get all the parts you need at Home Depot."

"You're a sick son of a bitch, Jared."

"I love you, too," Jared replied. "Now drive."

That little bastard was not getting away with this, Vin thought. Anything was preferable to being the hostage lover of this psycho. He stepped hard on the gas, and wrenched the wheel sharply. The SUV tilted and swerved, throwing its occupants around the interior. It lost contact with the road and angled over the edge of the cliff face, headed for the bottom of the canyon.

The SUV bounced roughly off a couple of boulders. Vin felt airborne just before the impact that threw him back into his seat. The vehicle had come to a halt, nestled parallel to the canyon below with its the front end wedged against a tree limb.

Vin rolled his head back and carefully opened his eyes. His chest felt bruised and his knee was aching, but he was alive. He squinted at the broken windshield and then turned to look at his passenger. Jared was slumped unconscious against the passenger side window, a bloody cut on his forehead.

With a pained grimace, Vin pulled himself from the vehicle. His knee was throbbing and swollen and breathing made his chest ache. He looked up the moonlit hillside. It wasn't a far climb, but with his knee, it was going to take some effort.

He began to struggle upwards against the brush and rocks. He had only gone a few feet when he heard a shout behind him from inside the vehicle, a scream of fury and terror.

"TAAAAANNERRRRRR!"

Then there was another sound. The crack of the tree limb rended the air and the vehicle began to slide. Vin could just see the look of shock and fear on Jared's face, just before the SUV rolled down the hill, disappearing with a crash into the canyon below.

Vin made it back to the road and began to limp as fast he could toward the cabin. Cursing under his breath at the pain, he did his best to run, ignoring the throbbing ache. He'd just have to pamper it later. Right now he had to get to Chris. If it wasn't too late.

Chris opened his eyes. All was quiet since the explosion. His vision was still blurry, but he could see an orange glow all around him. Fire. The whole place was going up in flames and he was trapped inside. He tried to sit up, but the appliance on his left and the bullet wound on his right made it impossible. He tried rolling onto his stomach, but that was impossible, too, for the same reason. If he couldn't get up, then it was hopeless. He was going to die. He hoped the smoke would get to him before the flames did, but the thought didn't comfort
him any.

Death would be an almost welcome relief, he thought, from the pain of loss since the night Vin had raped him. He wished it had all never happened, and that he could see Vin once last time, if only to tell him that, despite it all, he still really loved him. He always would, and now more than ever he was sure death would never change that.

He could feel the heat closing in around him and he began to cough. Dimly he became aware of someone trying to lift--no, drag--him somewhere. Vin.

"C'mon, Chris, we gotta get out of here." Vin tried to lift the injured man, to carry him out through a door or window, but his knee had finally given out and taking on any additional weight was just out of the question.

Vin turned to look at the doorway through which he'd come in, through the flames. Debris had collapsed against the door behind him and the flames were too thick by the other door. And lifting Chris to get him out a window...

He forced himself to remain calm even as the choking smoke began to fill his lungs and sting his eyes. Sweat from the heat ran into his eyes as he studied the room.

The cellar. There was a cellar in this old place. He remembered seeing the cellar doors when he'd returned from bathing. He dragged Chris back a few feet, ignoring the man's groan of pain, and shoved back the throw rug with all his might.

A trap door. He could lower Chris into the cellar, then drag him up the cellar steps to the outside. He pulled Chris to him and began to lower him past the ladder to the dirt floor below..

"Hang in there, Cowboy," he said into Chris's ear. "I'm gonna hafta drop ya."

He heard Chris land with a loud grunt of pain, then followed after him. He took the ladder one rung at a time as he awkwardly lowered himself into the dark cellar, pulling the trap door shut behind him.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He picked up Chris by the shoulders and, as gently and quickly as he could, dragged him behind to the cellar steps. Easing the man back down, he pushed against the cellar doors.

They wouldn't budge. The hinges were tightly rusted and the wood warped from decades of weather. Vin tried applying his shoulder with no luck. They were trapped. He looked around the empty space in frustration, noticing the curls of smoke seeping through the floorboards from above and the orange glow of fire between the cracks. He listened to the fire crackle and roar as the building above them was gradually being destroyed.

Vin looked at Chris, who still lay at his feet, on the cellar steps. He sat down beside him with a sad, tired sigh and pulled Chris to him, until the injured blond was nestled against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Chris," he said softly. "There's just nothing more I can do."

"Damn, it's darker then the bottom of your Stetson," muttered Buck as they drove the winding roads to Ezra's cabin.

"Whose Stetson?" JD asked, only half paying attention as he watched the road ahead anxiously.

"Yours! Mine! Anybody's!" Buck replied in exasperation. As fast as they were going, it was still too slow to suit Buck. "Step on it, Ezra."

"I know what I'm doing, Mr. Wilmington. "But I don't want to lose Nathan and Josiah behind us."

"SHIT!"

"I saw it," Ezra said curtly, as he nudged the steering wheel again. "That racoon's fine. He moved just in time. Do you think you could do better?"

"He doesn't mean that!" JD pointed. "LOOK! Ahead!"

Flames were shooting up against the night sky just over the tops of the trees. In the distance, the distinct, plaintive wail of a fire engine could be heard.

"Hang on, gentlemen," Ezra said grimly as he pressed the accelerator pedal to the car's floor mat.

The heat in the cellar was getting intense, as it surrounded the two men in the corner of the cellar. Vin was seated on the cellar steps. He had dragged Chris almost into his lap, and now cradled him there against his chest, holding in his arms, forlornly wishing he could have found one more way to save them both. They were in the lowest part of the cabin, so most of the smoke hadn't reached them yet. But the flames were just above and the heat was getting intense.

"Looks like we're gonna die here," Chris rasped in a smoke-damaged voice, his shirt starting to cake with soot and sweat.

"Looks like."

"You came back You--" Chris coughed again, helplessly, and hissed in pain from his wounded hip. "You shouldn't have."

Vin shook his head. "Wherever you are, Chris...That's where I want to be. Jared's dead. 'Sides, bein' a captive lover of Jared's is worse'n death could ever be." He rested his cheek against Chris's head. "Won't be long now. Scared?"

"No. Beat the Grim Reaper more times than I probably should've. You?"

"No. Not when you're with me." He paused thoughtfully. "I-I don't know what to say t' ya." He sighed. "'Sorry'...It just don't seem like enough. If I could just make it all go away--fix it somehow--"

"You can't," Chris said in a soft voice.

"I know. But if I'm gonna die here and now...I love you, Chris. And I never meant to hurt you." His lips gently brushed against the soft, blond hair.

Chris struggled to find the right words. There was only one way to say it. "I love you, too, Vin. I always have."

"Can you forgive me...for what happened?"

"I already did."

Vin instinctively held him tighter, pulling him protectively close against his chest. A tidal wave of relief flowed through him, as his mind registered the words he'd longed to hear. Almost immediately, the euphoria passed as he coughed hard, realizing that this was it, that they were inevitably going to die together in a just a few minutes.

The man in his arms was also seized by a spasm of coughing, and Vin closed his eyes and held him comfortingly, wishing he could've saved them both, or at least Chris. He said a silent prayer for them both.

Vin blinked through tears caused by smoke and emotion, watching the smoke begin to get thicker along the ceiling of the cellar and flames licked through the cracks between the floorboards. There was a long silence between them as they listened to the pops, crackles, and roar of the fire above them and felt the searing heat. The cellar was becoming like a furnace. Vin wiped his soaked forehead. It was a futile gesture. Despite the stone cellar, the heat had been rising rapidly. Soon, if the heat didn't get them, or the smoke, the building above would
start to collapse onto them.

Then something had changed. He sensed it before he really heard it or felt it. The smoke grew dense and then the floor seemed to turn to liquid, pouring onto them.

"Chris," he said in a hushed whisper. "Look!"

Cold water was coming into the cellar and onto them. Moments later, there was the loud clumping of heavy boots above them, accompanied by shouts.

"Down here!" Vin shouted, his voice weakened and raspy. He fell into another fit of coughing and held onto Chris till it passed.

He looked up in relief as the trap door creaked. He could glimpse the reflective coats of firefighters moving around and then a head appeared. Vin recognized the smiling face and sighed in relief.

"JD, I never been so happy to see anyone in all my life! Get the paramedics. Chris has been shot."

JD frowned and quickly disappeared from view to get help.

"Looks like we're getting out of here," he said. "Chris?" There was no answer. Chris's eyes were closed. His skin felt cold and clammy, though that could be from being soaked with cold water. Vin felt for a pulse. It was rapid and weak. The onset of shock.

"Hang on, Cowboy. Help's here," he whispered in Chris's ear. "We made it this far...I ain't gonna lose you now."

St. Sebastian's was busy as usual. Vin limped down the hall, pausing in the doorway of Chris's room to rub the uncomfortable knee brace. Anne was checking the various machines and Chris's IV. She saw Vin standing there and came over to him, smiling.

"He's asleep right now. He's doing very well. He did just fine in the reversal surgery and his wound looks good, too."

"Thanks," Vin smiled gratefully.

"I'll be back in a few after I finish some other duties, if you want to hang around here for awhile."

Vin nodded. He stayed where he was for a long time, just watching Chris sleep. The blond looked so peaceful, so relaxed and vulnerable. Vin swallowed a lump as he thought again of how many times recently that he'd come close to losing Chris forever. He didn't want Chris to see him like this. He decided to limp down to the cafeteria and back to collect himself. Maybe by then Chris would be awake anyway.

Chris awoke gradually, becoming aware of someone else's presence in the room with him. But when his vision cleared, he was alone. He shifted slightly on the bed. He couldn't deny that it felt good to know that he'd healed enough that the hated stoma had been removed. If he never saw another colostomy bag again, he'd be quite content. He was getting damned sick of hospital beds and medications and machines, that was for sure. Soon that would be in the past and he'd be home.

He stared up at the ceiling, thinking about all that had happened to him. It was Jared's fault, after all, that things had happened the way they did. Unconsciously, his fists clenched tightly in the bedsheets at the thought of that little weasel and all the pain and suffering he had caused. Chris hoped he was in a place that was at least as hot as that cellar had been.

Vin had risked his own life - and nearly lost it - for his sake. He couldn't imagine life without Vin, who was just as much a part of him as an arm or leg. Chris had never been more sure of that then at the moment when he'd realized they were about to die together. It had been comforting somehow, facing death from within the arms of the man he'd loved - the man he still loved.

He sighed tiredly and rubbed his face with one hand. He supposed they would take it a day at a time. What other choice was there?

"Hey, stud!" Buck poked his head into the room. "Where's Anne? Hate to miss runnin' into her."

Chris smiled. "She's around I'm sure. Maybe she knew you were back again."

"Now is that anything to say when I come back here especially to visit my good friend?"

"You just want to know how soon I'll be back to work so you don't have to do my job anymore."

Buck laughed. "I'll admit that doin' my taxes - and everybody else's - is easier than trying to figure out just one of Ezra's expense reports."

"It's a gentleman's club, Buck. I think he has a gold card there."

"I know what it is; I have a platinum one myself."

Chris frowned. "Where IS Ezra? I haven't seen him, and I feel like I should apologize for what happened to his cabin."

Buck waved a hand airily. "Oh, that. He's busy trying to convince the insurance company the place had some kind of historical significance. Apparently it's worth more that way." Buck looked pleased as Chris laughed appreciatively, then he sobered. "Seen Vin?"

Chris shook his head. "Not yet."

"Y'know, I don't envy you having to go through all those resumes, either."

"What resumes?"

"Vin resigned. Didn't he tell you?"

Chris stared at him in surprise. "He didn't say a word." The blond paused a moment. "You know what happened, don't you?"

"You mean the drugs and Jared? Yeah. The whole team knows."

"Good..." Chris looked at Buck with a serious expression. "I want him back on the team."

Buck patted Chris's thigh lightly. "I said he resigned. I didn't say I accepted it. Or that Orrin Travis ever saw it."

"You're a good friend, Buck."

Buck smiled. "To both of you, I hope."

"To all of us."

Buck turned suddenly to see Vin standing in the doorway. The ladies man cleared his throat noisily.

"I'm gonna...head back to the office now. Paperwork...It never goes away, you know?" He looked at Vin. "Your leave's about up, mister, so I expect you to be in the office on light duty starting Monday."

Vin stared at him in surprise and opened his mouth to retort.

"No excuses!" Buck said sharply.

Vin studied Buck's face a moment. "Yeah...Yeah, sure. I'll be there. Thanks, Buck," he said sincerely.

Buck winked at him and left the two men alone. The empty space of the room seemed to fill with silence as neither man could figure out what to say.

"Anne says you're goin' home soon."

"You know..." Chris said thoughtfully, "I'd sure to hate to come home to an empty house."

Vin smiled. "You sayin' you're lonely?"

Chris looked at him, his green eyes wide and warm. "I'm sayin' I hope you're there."

"Is that what you want? Are you sure?" Vin searched the clear green eyes for any sign of doubt.

"I've never been more sure of anything."

Just then Anne appeared in the door. "MR. TANNER. You're keeping my radiologist waiting, do you know that? Now stop jibber-jabbering and GO. Go on, scoot!" She turned to Chris. "He was supposed to have that knee x-rayed over 20 minutes ago. And you...YOU need to get some rest, if you plan on going home soon. Much as I'll miss you, Mr. Larabee, we really must stop meeting like this. People are beginning to talk!" She smiled at him and winked.

"I'm goin', I'm goin' already!" said Vin, backing away as Anne started toward him. "I'll see you at home," he called over his shoulder to Chris while Anne gently propelled him into the hall.

"I'm counting on it," Chris said softly.

Epilogue

Chris was stretched out on his sofa, just finishing the special edition of "Roughing It" that Vin had given him as a welcome-home present. Since his release from the hospital, reading had helped pass the time while he continued to recover from his ordeal.

He hated to admit it, but he secretly enjoyed Vin fussing over him like he had, nagging him to take his medications, making him eat, and seeing to it that he rested as much as possible. Normally Chris didn't like all that attention, but he welcomed the constant reminder of Vin's presence. It was a feeling he infinitely preferred to the fear and anguish he'd known earlier.

"You still readin' that?" said the sharpshooter, as he entered the room carrying a tray of food.

"I'm savoring it."

"Yeah, well, savor this." He set the tray down in front of Chris and stood beside him. "When yer done, it's meds time again."

Chris groaned and sat up. "Why did you bring it in here? I can make it to the kitchen, you know."

Vin grinned wickedly and bent to nuzzle Chris's ear. "Because I don't want you wastin' one ounce of strength. It's now eight weeks to the day since you came home, an' I got other plans."

The blond grinned. "Oh? Why don't we skip dinner then?"

"No. First, you'll need the energy from them calories, and second, meds with food, remember?"

"Are you my lover or my wife?" Chris muttered, as he picked up a fork to eat.

Vin's smile was unwavering. "When yer done, we can go to the bedroom and try answerin' that question."

Chris arched an eyebrow and ate the light meal as quickly as he could without choking. He was down to only a few prescriptions now, another sign of his recovery. He swallowed them quickly under Vin's watchful eye.

"Close yer eyes."

"Vin--"

"Close 'em."

He obeyed and let Vin lead him toward the bedroom. When he opened his eyes, he smiled. Then he grinned. The bedroom was lit by an array of candles. New sheets were on the bed and the down comforter had been turned back invitingly. The room had a warm, musky aroma. Chris noted the scented massage oil warming on the nightstand. This couldn't possibly be the same room he'd been attacked in. He pushed that thought out of his mind.

Vin pushed a button on a small device also on the nightstand. Chris was expecting music but, to his surprise, the soft sounds of a gentle mountain stream filled the room. The sharpshooter moved behind Chris and gently began to massage his shoulders, helping him off with his shirt as he did so.

It slid off easily and Chris let it drop to the floor. Vin kissed his neck and shoulders lightly. "Take off them pants and I can give you a proper massage."

"Ain't nothin' 'proper' about you," Chris replied in a soft growl as he shucked his jeans. "And I ain't gonna be the only one in this room who's naked. C'mere." He stretched out on the bed on his back, smiling seductively.

Vin eagerly stripped out of his own clothes and straddled Chris. He bent over him, gently nibbling at his neck, working his way down slowly until his tongue circled each hardened nipple. He suckled gently for a moment, then traced a wet path down through the patch of pale chest hair, over the hardened planes of his stomach. He lingered over the scars of Chris's surgery and his bullet wound, but Chris pushed his head gently, directing him onward. Vin understood the signal and continued down Chris's belly to his navel. His tongue darted in and out
and, from out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chris's penis responding. He watched it thicken and gently furl upwards until it was pointing up along Chris's belly, hard and pink. His own penis was reacting in kind. He lowered his head still further, tracing the tip of his tongue along Chris's shaft until he lightly tasted the clear moisture at the tip.

Chris arched his back with a groan. "You got a funny way of givin' a massage, Tanner."

"Complainin'?" Vin licked gently Chris's balls, tight in their sac like ripe peaches.

"Hell, no!" Chris gasped.

He groaned again, this time in frustration, as Vin slowly started upwards again. Finally, their mouths met in a warm, full kiss; a kiss of hunger and raw emotion as pent-up feelings from weeks of pain and healing welled up within them. Chris pulled Vin hungrily to him in a bruising kiss that Vin returned with equal measure.

Chris pulled back and stared into the blue eyes - eyes that reminded him of Oriental pools. So clear and blue, he thought he might fall into them and drown.

"I want you to fuck me," Chris whispered hoarsely.

Vin paused, studying him carefully. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Chris nodded. "I don't think I'll feel whole again until you do."

"I don't..." Vin swallowed, his voice cracking. "I don't want to hurt you."

The blond gazed back at him for a long time. "I trust you," he whispered.

It was all Vin needed to hear. He got up on his knees and dipped his fingers in the warmed massage oil. He then reached into the drawer, hoping the lube was still there. It was. He added that to the oil and, as Chris lifted and spread his legs, Vin gently, carefully, stroked his finger along the smooth, dark furrow before him. All the time, he kept his eyes on Chris's face, looking for an sign of hesitation or fear. They had all the time in the world, and Vin was going to take it. He thought this moment had been lost to him forever and he was going
to do whatever it took to make it right for Chris. For both of them.

"Are you sure?" he asked anxiously.

Chris reached for Vin's hand and squeezed. "I'm sure. I love you, Vin."

Vin bent to kiss him once more, then ever so gently, he pressed himself against the puckered entrance. He could feel the ring of muscle clench, and he waited patiently for it to relax. At last the tight ring softened and Vin entered him very slowly, the tip of him just barely inside. He glanced at Chris's face again.

Chris was clutching the sheets. Deep down, there was just the barest feeling of panic and fear. Chris fought it, reminding himself that this was the man he'd almost died with, the man who'd nearly given up his life to save him. The man he was meant to be with. He saw the unspoken question in Vin's eyes, took a deep breath and nodded.

Struggling to control his own desire, Vin gently inched himself inside, savoring the incredible heat of the tight, satiny channel that sheathed him. He pressed foward slowly until his balls rested against Chris's smooth, hard buttocks.

"You okay, Cowboy?"

Chris nodded. "Never better," he gasped. He thrust his hips toward Vin for emphasis.

Thus urged on, Vin began to thrust gently, bending his head to kiss and nibble at the man beneath him. It felt now like he had truly come home and his whole body felt a tingle of electricity ripple through him. His body took over the motions almost automatically and he gradually increased his pace.

The two men were now sweating and gasping, wrapped completely in a cocoon of physical pleasure and emotional connection. The world beyond the bedroom, with its Jareds and its hospitals ceased to exist. There was only this moment and each other, and it felt right to both of them.

At last, their cries intermingled, as Vin bathed Chris's insides with a flood of warm come. At the same moment, Chris's own sweet, milky fluid jetted from the tiny slit, forming a warm, sticky bond between their bodies. It was like nothing either man had ever known: not each man having his own climax, but one huge, lasting, shared orgasm that both of them were part of, that had no delineations, and no boundaries.

At last, Vin's body, depleted, collapsed against his lover's chest. He lay there, wondering in his pleasure-fogged mind if his heart rate and breathing would ever return to normal. He rested his head against Chris's chest and wondered the same about him, as Chris's heart pounded against his ear. He felt Chris's arms encircle him, holding him so tightly he almost couldn't breathe, but he welcomed it anyway.

Chris kissed him lightly. "Next time you go to any more parties, I think I'd better go with you after all."

"No more parties. Unless we have our own right here."

"My favorite kind," Chris grinned.

THE END
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The Gemini Man