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numb3rsflashficTitle: Three Teams Don Eppes Never Led: Federal Marshal Don Eppes
Pairing/Characters: Don/Charlie (implied: David/Colby, Chris/Vin, Megan/Buck, JD/Casey)
Rating/Category: PG13/Slash (implied het)
Word Count: 3388 words
Spoilers: Through season two, to be safe.
Summary: Federal Marshal Don Eppes is on the trail of his mother’s killer.
Notes/Warning: *shakes fist* Darn you,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
umbralillium!! Fusion with The Magnificent Seven. Spoilers through season two.
Written: July 10, 2007
JD saw the dust kicked up by the horses long before he saw the six horsemen riding towards town. He absently pulled his knife out of the boardwalk and tuned out the story Casey was telling him as he re-sheathed it. JD rose to his feet and stepped sideways until he could push the door to the jail open without taking his eyes off the encroaching plume.
“Hey, Buck! Get out here.”
Casey fell silent and JD heard the sharp crack as Buck lowered the chair to all four legs, the clink as his boots slid off the desk and hit the scraped wooden floor. The jailhouse door opened all the way and JD felt Buck’s comforting presence at his back.
“Trouble?”
“Could be. Riders coming.”
“Casey, sweetheart, run on over to the saloon and get Chris and Vin, would you?”
Casey only paused long enough to sheath her own knife before racing across the street to the saloon. Buck stepped back inside the jail for the shotgun and JD slipped his gun from its holster, checked it out of habit.
Casey exited the saloon just ahead of Vin, then crossed the dusty road, climbing up onto the boardwalk just as Buck reappeared. “Mr. Tanner said he’d get Chris,” Casey said before Buck could ask. She blushed. “He’s in the bath.”
Buck chuckled and flicked his finger against the brim of Casey’s hat so she had to catch it before it fell off. The three of them then stood there and watched the riders get closer and closer until JD could make out their individual features.
“Casey, go on inside the jail.”
“JD!”
“That sounds like a good idea, Casey,” Buck said, backing JD up. “We don’t know what these fellas want.” He gently propelled Casey inside the jail and pulled the door shut despite her vocal protests.
“Thanks, Buck.”
“Hey, I might not be in love with her, but I don’t want anything to happen to that little lady, either, JD.”
“Quit that love talk,” JD said just as five men pulled their horses up in front of the jail.
They must have been on the trail a long while. They were covered in dust and looked plum worn out. The man in the lead pushed his hat back as he looked the two of them over, taking note of their weapons, and their readiness to use them, JD hoped. On the tail end of that thought, he wished that Chris and Vin would get there soon.
“One of you the sheriff?”
Four of the five riders were loaded down with guns, which made JD wary. “Who’s askin’?”
The man pulled his coat to the side to reveal the silver star he wore pinned to the vest beneath. “Federal Marshal Don Eppes.”
*~*~*
Don let his coat fall back over the star. The mustached man merely smiled at Don’s revelation. He leaned against the post, one thumb hooked through his belt, hip cocked in a posture of relaxation that Don could tell was faked. He held the shotgun down by his side, but Don was certain he was ready and willing to use it. He said, “We’ve learned the hard way that just about anybody can get their hands on one of those pieces of tin. I’m sure you’ll understand if we don’t just take your word for it. Got any other proof you are who you say you are?”
Don figured the two men showed a lot of guts, being out-numbered and out-gunned as they were, but if they were telling the truth, their caution was warranted.
“Why would we lie?” Charlie asked.
Don sensed the others at his back tensing for a fight, as well.
“It’s all right, Charlie,” Don said, and made a gesture he hoped would calm his team. Moving slowly, Don reached into an inside pocket and withdrew an oilskin packet of documents. He selected one and held it out.
“JD.”
At the mustached man’s request, the kid stepped forward and took the paper from Don, then back onto the boardwalk, handing the document to the other man without taking his eyes off Don.
Don waited, hiding his impatience as the man perused his credentials.
“Well, Marshal Eppes, your paperwork appears to be in order. Welcome to Four Corners. This is JD Dunne, I’m Buck Wilmington. We’re the law around these parts.” Wilmington looked over the team at Don’s back. “Are all these men your deputies?”
“No,” Don said, and began introductions with Charlie, who rode immediately to his right. “This is my brother, Charlie.”
Before he got any further, Don noticed the slight relaxing of the kid, JD’s, stance, something even his proper credentials hadn’t been able to achieve. He turned his head to the left as two more men approached. One was dressed all in black, pants, shirt and hat, the other in buckskin pants and a blue shirt, with a faded red handkerchief around his neck.
Wilmington handed over Don’s credentials to the man in black, drawled, “Chris, I’d like you to meet Marshal Eppes.”
At that, the man called Chris looked up and their eyes met. “Marshal Don Eppes?”
It took Don a moment to place that voice, those eyes. “Chris Larabee?”
Chris raised his eyebrows, lips thinning into a tight smile. “You here for me?”
Don grinned. “Not this time. ‘Less you done something I don’t know about.”
Chris just grinned back, handed the credentials over to Don unread. “Then what brings you out to Four Corners?”
“We’re on the trail of a man wanted for murder.”
By the time Don had his credentials folded back into the oilskin packet and tucked safely into his pocket, Charlie was offering him the wanted poster. Don handed it to Chris who looked it over carefully before passing it to the man in buckskin at his side.
“Never seen him.”
“Name’s Robert Morgan,” Don said. “Also known as Big Red and Ugly Bobby.”
“I can see why,” the man in buckskin said. “I’d remember a face like that.” He handed the poster to Wilmington.
Behind the two men standing on the boardwalk, the jailhouse door opened a crack and a young girl poked her head out.
JD hissed, “Casey! Get back in there!”
The two of them crossed swords of the verbal variety, only stopping when Wilmington passed the poster to the Dunne boy. Casey looked over JD’s shoulder at the poster and wrinkled her nose.
“You look dry,” Chris said when Don had the poster back. “Why don’t you let us stand you and your men a drink?”
Don looked at Charlie when he handed the poster back to him. Charlie looked like he could use a drink, a meal, maybe even a good night’s sleep, but all he said was, “I’m fine, Don.” Which, of course, meant he wasn’t, but he’d do whatever Don asked of him.
Don glanced back at the others. David and Colby had their game faces on, but Megan gave him a slight nod that told him Charlie wasn’t the only one who could use a break from the hard pace Don had set. Besides, they appeared to have lost their father since riding into town.
“I could use a drink.”
Don could almost feel the change in the air as his team sighed with relief. He’d no sooner spoken the words before David, Colby and Megan wheeled their horses around and walked them across the street to the saloon. They dismounted and tied them to the rail, then disappeared inside.
Don and Charlie followed, Chris and his three men, and the young lady, at their sides. It was clear to Don that Chris was their leader, and if the other two were protecting the town, that meant Chris was, as well. “So, you fellas are the law around here.”
The corners of Chris’ lips turned up. “For the most part.”
Don smiled. “Folks in this town must’ve been desperate.”
Wilmington laughed while JD bristled at the perceived insult.
“Oh, they were,” Chris said.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, Don removed his hat and slapped it against his leg, knocking the dust off. Charlie pushed his hat back so that it fell off and rested against his back, then fluffed up curls flattened by the hat and sweat and dust.
The rest of his team was already bellied up to the bar when Don and Charlie walked in behind Chris and the man in buckskin, whose name they had yet to hear. Wilmington, JD and Casey followed them. JD was trying to dissuade the young lady from entering the saloon, but this was probably the most excitement this little town’d had all month, and she wasn’t going to miss it. She reminded Don a little bit of Charlie. Before.
“Mr. Wilmington,” a voice rang out. “Nathan here insists on saving his money for medical supplies. I don’t suppose I could interest you in a game of cards?”
“Well, Ezra, I would, but I’ve already lost all my pay to you this week.”
“I accept credit,” the man Wilmington had called Ezra said, but Wilmington just ignored him and headed to the bar. He reached across and took the hand of the dark-haired beauty behind the bar in his and kissed it.
“Inez.”
“Senor Buck.” There was a pause, and then she added, “I need that hand to pour drinks with.”
“By all means, pour us a drink.”
Don and Charlie ended up at a small round table with Chris and the man in buckskin. Only a few moments after they’d seated themselves, Inez delivered a bottle and four shot glasses. Chris thanked her and pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth before filling the glasses.
Chris had taken the seat that put his back to the wall and allowed him to see the door, the man in buckskin had taken a seat to his right, so Don was forced to sit with his back to the door. He hated the feeling of vulnerability it gave him, but he understood Chris’ move. He understood less the presence of the man in buckskin at Chris’ side. The last time they’d crossed paths, Chris had been an angry loner.
They all drank down the first shot and Chris re-filled the glasses. After they each had two drinks under their belts, Chris indicated Charlie, and then the rest of Don’s team. “Don’t remember you riding with quite so many people.”
Don shrugged, not wanting to get into a long explanation of how he’d come to be teamed up with Megan, David and Colby, nor their reasons for chasing down Robert Morgan. He just said, “Terry headed back East,” and then turned to Charlie, clapped him on the shoulder. “This is my brother, Charlie.”
“Ahh, the professor.”
Charlie looked both uncomfortable to be singled out, and pleased at the attention, and Don smiled. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“Never knew anyone who went to college before. Kinda stuck with me.” After a small hesitation that some might have taken for Chris’ normal reticence, Chris spoke again. “This here is my good friend Vin Tanner.”
Don didn’t miss the emphasis Chris had placed on the words ‘good friend’, but he did wonder why Chris had done so. Don made polite noises of greeting, then said, “Vin Tanner. Why does that name sound familiar to me?”
“Five hundred dollars, Tascosa, Texas,” Charlie said.
Tanner stiffened, then forced himself to relax. Don could see the effort it took to stay seated, hands away from his sidearm.
“Charlie here’s our numbers man,” Don explained.
“Impressive,” Chris said. “I’d be obliged if you could forget you ever saw him.”
Don stared at Chris, surprised he’d asked such a thing. This wasn’t the same man Don had met a couple of years ago, who wouldn’t have asked a favor of anyone, for anyone, and that intrigued Don, but Tanner was wanted for murder. Don said as much to Chris.
“He didn’t do it.”
Don had heard that too many times to believe it. “Then why’s there a bounty on his head?”
“Because he was set up by that scum, Eli Joe.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“I know Vin.” The certainty with which Chris said that almost had Don believing it, too.
Vin roused from his self-imposed silence. “Don’t need you fighting my battles for me, Chris.”
“Not just your battle anymore, Vin.”
The look the two men shared was heated enough to burn Don across the table. Eventually Vin nodded, relaxed back into his seat. He’d given the impression of being relaxed before, but Don now realized it had been an act from the very beginning, from the moment he’d found out that Don was a Federal Marshal. This was the look a man had when he had implicit trust in the man at his back.
Don wasn’t forced to answer just then, their serious discussion interrupted by the Dunne boy’s exclamation across the saloon. “You’re a girl!”
Don glanced over to the bar where Megan had removed her hat. A loose braid of honey blonde hair fell down her back. The young Casey punched JD’s arm.
“Ow! Casey, what’d you do that for?”
“What’s wrong with being a girl?”
“Nothing! Come on, I didn’t mean anything by it.” A tall man with a mustache leaned against the bar at JD’s shoulder; he just shook his head at the boy. “What? I was just surprised, is all.”
“I can outride and outshoot you or any ma—!”
“Oh, now, don’t start with that again.”
When Don returned his attention to his companions, Chris and Vin were sharing a grin. The Chris he’d met had never grinned. His face had been creased with lines of pain and anger, but those had mostly disappeared, Don noted. Didn’t mean that this Tanner was an innocent man, but Don had his own problems, chasing down the man that had killed his mother.
“Charlie.”
Charlie dragged his attention away from the bar and back to Don. After a moment of silent communication, the kind that was coming easier the longer they spent time in each other’s company, Charlie pulled out the oilskin pouch and withdrew the stack of posters they carried with them. He flipped through until he reached the one Don wanted, then slid it out of the pile and handed it to Don.
Don studied it. The likeness wasn’t all that good. Made Tanner look like a hard man, but even when he wasn’t smiling at Chris, Tanner didn’t appear hardened. A little shy, maybe, a bit world weary.
Don slid the poster across the table. “I’ll forget I ever heard of him, unless his name comes up again and I can’t.”
Chris folded the poster and slipped it into his pocket. “Appreciate it, Don.”
“Well, this is good whiskey,” Don said, and Chris smiled again, glanced at Tanner who just shook his head, tried to hide the answering smile curving the corners of his lips.
Charlie’s eyes brightened when Don asked about a bathhouse. He could do with washing off some of the trail dust, and anything that put a little light back into Charlie’s eyes was worth taking the time for.
“Go on up and tell Megan and the others that we’re spending the night here in town. We’ll get an early start in the morning.”
Charlie was out of the chair like a shot, only pausing long enough to make sure that Don had the pouch.
“He don’t talk much, for a professor,” Chris quietly observed.
Don watched Charlie make his way through the crowd to the bar, his gestures when he told Megan that they were staying the night the most animation Don had seen out of Charlie in too long.
“Ever since our mother was killed,” Don said.
“I’m sorry.”
Don could hear the sorrow in Chris’ voice.
“That Morgan feller?” Tanner asked.
Don nodded.
“I hope you find him, then.”
Don did, too, but he knew it wouldn’t bring their mother back. He was afraid that Charlie hadn’t figured that out yet. Before he could respond, the saloon doors swung open and his father walked in, a lovely blonde woman on his arm.
Don groaned. “Dad! Where have you been?”
Alan led the woman across to their table. “Donny! I told you that I was going to find the local newspaper. Newsmen, or women,” he said with a smile for the lady beside him, “know everything that’s going on in town, you know.”
“Hello, Mary,” Chris greeted the woman.
“Hello, Chris, Vin.”
“Miz Travis.”
“This is my son, the Marshal I was telling you about. Don, this is Mrs. Travis. She runs the Clarion.”
“Hello, Marshal.”
“Mrs. Travis.” Don took her proffered hand, then turned to his father. “And was Mrs. Travis able to assist you?”
“Uh, no, she hasn’t seen nor heard of Robert Morgan.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,” Mrs. Travis said.
“Well, we appreciate your time, ma’am.” Don stood and clapped his father on the shoulder. “We’re staying the night. Charlie and I are heading to the baths, you want to join us?”
“Maybe later. I think I’ll wash a little of the dust out of my throat first.”
“Mary?” Chris asked, issuing the invitation for her to join them as well.
“No, thank you, I need to get back to Billy.”
Mrs. Travis left and Don stepped back from the table. “Here, Dad, take my seat. This here is Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner; they’re the law around these parts. Gentlemen, this is my father, Alan Eppes.”
The three men took turns shaking hands and saying their ‘pleased ta meet ya’s, and then Alan sat down and poured some whiskey into Don’s discarded glass. He pounded it, washing away the trail dust and the disappointment of their quarry eluding them once more, then poured himself another.
“Just be careful of this one,” Don warned as he patted his father’s shoulder, and then gestured towards Chris. “I once had to arrest him for drunk and disorderly.” Don walked away, Chris’, “Thanks a lot,” echoing in his ears, and left Chris to explain.
Don stepped up behind Charlie at the bar, placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt the last of Charlie’s tension ebb away under his hand. Charlie leaned back so that they were just barely touching, taking as much comfort and strength from Don, as Don did from Charlie.
“Charlie tell you we’re heading to the bathhouse?”
“Once or twice,” Megan teased.
“You guys wanna join us?” Don asked David and Colby. Megan would have to wait her turn for the bathhouse, or use the facilities provided by the hotel.
“Nah,” David said. “I think I’m gonna head on over there, win me a few hands of poker.”
“Oh, this I gotta see,” Colby said. He finished his drink and set the empty glass down on the bar top, then followed David across the saloon to the table where Wilmington’s friend Ezra sat.
“Just don’t let him lose his shirt,” Don called.
Colby laughed. “I won’t. Not in here, anyway.”
“Megan, you mind getting us a couple rooms at one of the hotels?” Don had learned long ago that Megan was the one to trust with their money.
“Actually,” Megan said, “Casey here was just going to take me to the livery to show me her horse. Why don’t I get the horses stabled, and then I’ll get us some rooms.”
“And we’ll help,” Wilmington said, indicating himself and JD.
Don looked at Wilmington, then back to Megan, who just shrugged and smiled. Don shook his head. “Sounds good.”
Don led Charlie out of the saloon and they started down the boardwalk to the baths. Don hooked his arm around Charlie’s shoulders and pulled him in close, gave him a noogie. Charlie actually laughed as he struggled to free himself. It was a sound Don didn’t get to hear often enough, these days.
“Hey, maybe I’ll wash your back for you,” Don offered.
Charlie ducked his head and blushed. Don was grateful that one thing hadn’t changed at least. He could still make the blood brush to the surface of Charlie’s skin, make his heartbeat quicken, make his breaths come fast and harsh. And maybe, for now, that was enough.
The End
(I was going to say Five Teams, but I was leary I wouldn't get them written, so I went with three. *g* There's a chance I may have to change that title, if I get really inspired, but in the meantime, these are the other 'teams' I'm considering: CSI, NCIS, Pacific Blue, SGA, SPN... Any others? Any preferences?)
Pairing/Characters: Don/Charlie (implied: David/Colby, Chris/Vin, Megan/Buck, JD/Casey)
Rating/Category: PG13/Slash (implied het)
Word Count: 3388 words
Spoilers: Through season two, to be safe.
Summary: Federal Marshal Don Eppes is on the trail of his mother’s killer.
Notes/Warning: *shakes fist* Darn you,
umbralillium!! Fusion with The Magnificent Seven. Spoilers through season two.Written: July 10, 2007
JD saw the dust kicked up by the horses long before he saw the six horsemen riding towards town. He absently pulled his knife out of the boardwalk and tuned out the story Casey was telling him as he re-sheathed it. JD rose to his feet and stepped sideways until he could push the door to the jail open without taking his eyes off the encroaching plume.
“Hey, Buck! Get out here.”
Casey fell silent and JD heard the sharp crack as Buck lowered the chair to all four legs, the clink as his boots slid off the desk and hit the scraped wooden floor. The jailhouse door opened all the way and JD felt Buck’s comforting presence at his back.
“Trouble?”
“Could be. Riders coming.”
“Casey, sweetheart, run on over to the saloon and get Chris and Vin, would you?”
Casey only paused long enough to sheath her own knife before racing across the street to the saloon. Buck stepped back inside the jail for the shotgun and JD slipped his gun from its holster, checked it out of habit.
Casey exited the saloon just ahead of Vin, then crossed the dusty road, climbing up onto the boardwalk just as Buck reappeared. “Mr. Tanner said he’d get Chris,” Casey said before Buck could ask. She blushed. “He’s in the bath.”
Buck chuckled and flicked his finger against the brim of Casey’s hat so she had to catch it before it fell off. The three of them then stood there and watched the riders get closer and closer until JD could make out their individual features.
“Casey, go on inside the jail.”
“JD!”
“That sounds like a good idea, Casey,” Buck said, backing JD up. “We don’t know what these fellas want.” He gently propelled Casey inside the jail and pulled the door shut despite her vocal protests.
“Thanks, Buck.”
“Hey, I might not be in love with her, but I don’t want anything to happen to that little lady, either, JD.”
“Quit that love talk,” JD said just as five men pulled their horses up in front of the jail.
They must have been on the trail a long while. They were covered in dust and looked plum worn out. The man in the lead pushed his hat back as he looked the two of them over, taking note of their weapons, and their readiness to use them, JD hoped. On the tail end of that thought, he wished that Chris and Vin would get there soon.
“One of you the sheriff?”
Four of the five riders were loaded down with guns, which made JD wary. “Who’s askin’?”
The man pulled his coat to the side to reveal the silver star he wore pinned to the vest beneath. “Federal Marshal Don Eppes.”
Don let his coat fall back over the star. The mustached man merely smiled at Don’s revelation. He leaned against the post, one thumb hooked through his belt, hip cocked in a posture of relaxation that Don could tell was faked. He held the shotgun down by his side, but Don was certain he was ready and willing to use it. He said, “We’ve learned the hard way that just about anybody can get their hands on one of those pieces of tin. I’m sure you’ll understand if we don’t just take your word for it. Got any other proof you are who you say you are?”
Don figured the two men showed a lot of guts, being out-numbered and out-gunned as they were, but if they were telling the truth, their caution was warranted.
“Why would we lie?” Charlie asked.
Don sensed the others at his back tensing for a fight, as well.
“It’s all right, Charlie,” Don said, and made a gesture he hoped would calm his team. Moving slowly, Don reached into an inside pocket and withdrew an oilskin packet of documents. He selected one and held it out.
“JD.”
At the mustached man’s request, the kid stepped forward and took the paper from Don, then back onto the boardwalk, handing the document to the other man without taking his eyes off Don.
Don waited, hiding his impatience as the man perused his credentials.
“Well, Marshal Eppes, your paperwork appears to be in order. Welcome to Four Corners. This is JD Dunne, I’m Buck Wilmington. We’re the law around these parts.” Wilmington looked over the team at Don’s back. “Are all these men your deputies?”
“No,” Don said, and began introductions with Charlie, who rode immediately to his right. “This is my brother, Charlie.”
Before he got any further, Don noticed the slight relaxing of the kid, JD’s, stance, something even his proper credentials hadn’t been able to achieve. He turned his head to the left as two more men approached. One was dressed all in black, pants, shirt and hat, the other in buckskin pants and a blue shirt, with a faded red handkerchief around his neck.
Wilmington handed over Don’s credentials to the man in black, drawled, “Chris, I’d like you to meet Marshal Eppes.”
At that, the man called Chris looked up and their eyes met. “Marshal Don Eppes?”
It took Don a moment to place that voice, those eyes. “Chris Larabee?”
Chris raised his eyebrows, lips thinning into a tight smile. “You here for me?”
Don grinned. “Not this time. ‘Less you done something I don’t know about.”
Chris just grinned back, handed the credentials over to Don unread. “Then what brings you out to Four Corners?”
“We’re on the trail of a man wanted for murder.”
By the time Don had his credentials folded back into the oilskin packet and tucked safely into his pocket, Charlie was offering him the wanted poster. Don handed it to Chris who looked it over carefully before passing it to the man in buckskin at his side.
“Never seen him.”
“Name’s Robert Morgan,” Don said. “Also known as Big Red and Ugly Bobby.”
“I can see why,” the man in buckskin said. “I’d remember a face like that.” He handed the poster to Wilmington.
Behind the two men standing on the boardwalk, the jailhouse door opened a crack and a young girl poked her head out.
JD hissed, “Casey! Get back in there!”
The two of them crossed swords of the verbal variety, only stopping when Wilmington passed the poster to the Dunne boy. Casey looked over JD’s shoulder at the poster and wrinkled her nose.
“You look dry,” Chris said when Don had the poster back. “Why don’t you let us stand you and your men a drink?”
Don looked at Charlie when he handed the poster back to him. Charlie looked like he could use a drink, a meal, maybe even a good night’s sleep, but all he said was, “I’m fine, Don.” Which, of course, meant he wasn’t, but he’d do whatever Don asked of him.
Don glanced back at the others. David and Colby had their game faces on, but Megan gave him a slight nod that told him Charlie wasn’t the only one who could use a break from the hard pace Don had set. Besides, they appeared to have lost their father since riding into town.
“I could use a drink.”
Don could almost feel the change in the air as his team sighed with relief. He’d no sooner spoken the words before David, Colby and Megan wheeled their horses around and walked them across the street to the saloon. They dismounted and tied them to the rail, then disappeared inside.
Don and Charlie followed, Chris and his three men, and the young lady, at their sides. It was clear to Don that Chris was their leader, and if the other two were protecting the town, that meant Chris was, as well. “So, you fellas are the law around here.”
The corners of Chris’ lips turned up. “For the most part.”
Don smiled. “Folks in this town must’ve been desperate.”
Wilmington laughed while JD bristled at the perceived insult.
“Oh, they were,” Chris said.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, Don removed his hat and slapped it against his leg, knocking the dust off. Charlie pushed his hat back so that it fell off and rested against his back, then fluffed up curls flattened by the hat and sweat and dust.
The rest of his team was already bellied up to the bar when Don and Charlie walked in behind Chris and the man in buckskin, whose name they had yet to hear. Wilmington, JD and Casey followed them. JD was trying to dissuade the young lady from entering the saloon, but this was probably the most excitement this little town’d had all month, and she wasn’t going to miss it. She reminded Don a little bit of Charlie. Before.
“Mr. Wilmington,” a voice rang out. “Nathan here insists on saving his money for medical supplies. I don’t suppose I could interest you in a game of cards?”
“Well, Ezra, I would, but I’ve already lost all my pay to you this week.”
“I accept credit,” the man Wilmington had called Ezra said, but Wilmington just ignored him and headed to the bar. He reached across and took the hand of the dark-haired beauty behind the bar in his and kissed it.
“Inez.”
“Senor Buck.” There was a pause, and then she added, “I need that hand to pour drinks with.”
“By all means, pour us a drink.”
Don and Charlie ended up at a small round table with Chris and the man in buckskin. Only a few moments after they’d seated themselves, Inez delivered a bottle and four shot glasses. Chris thanked her and pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth before filling the glasses.
Chris had taken the seat that put his back to the wall and allowed him to see the door, the man in buckskin had taken a seat to his right, so Don was forced to sit with his back to the door. He hated the feeling of vulnerability it gave him, but he understood Chris’ move. He understood less the presence of the man in buckskin at Chris’ side. The last time they’d crossed paths, Chris had been an angry loner.
They all drank down the first shot and Chris re-filled the glasses. After they each had two drinks under their belts, Chris indicated Charlie, and then the rest of Don’s team. “Don’t remember you riding with quite so many people.”
Don shrugged, not wanting to get into a long explanation of how he’d come to be teamed up with Megan, David and Colby, nor their reasons for chasing down Robert Morgan. He just said, “Terry headed back East,” and then turned to Charlie, clapped him on the shoulder. “This is my brother, Charlie.”
“Ahh, the professor.”
Charlie looked both uncomfortable to be singled out, and pleased at the attention, and Don smiled. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“Never knew anyone who went to college before. Kinda stuck with me.” After a small hesitation that some might have taken for Chris’ normal reticence, Chris spoke again. “This here is my good friend Vin Tanner.”
Don didn’t miss the emphasis Chris had placed on the words ‘good friend’, but he did wonder why Chris had done so. Don made polite noises of greeting, then said, “Vin Tanner. Why does that name sound familiar to me?”
“Five hundred dollars, Tascosa, Texas,” Charlie said.
Tanner stiffened, then forced himself to relax. Don could see the effort it took to stay seated, hands away from his sidearm.
“Charlie here’s our numbers man,” Don explained.
“Impressive,” Chris said. “I’d be obliged if you could forget you ever saw him.”
Don stared at Chris, surprised he’d asked such a thing. This wasn’t the same man Don had met a couple of years ago, who wouldn’t have asked a favor of anyone, for anyone, and that intrigued Don, but Tanner was wanted for murder. Don said as much to Chris.
“He didn’t do it.”
Don had heard that too many times to believe it. “Then why’s there a bounty on his head?”
“Because he was set up by that scum, Eli Joe.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“I know Vin.” The certainty with which Chris said that almost had Don believing it, too.
Vin roused from his self-imposed silence. “Don’t need you fighting my battles for me, Chris.”
“Not just your battle anymore, Vin.”
The look the two men shared was heated enough to burn Don across the table. Eventually Vin nodded, relaxed back into his seat. He’d given the impression of being relaxed before, but Don now realized it had been an act from the very beginning, from the moment he’d found out that Don was a Federal Marshal. This was the look a man had when he had implicit trust in the man at his back.
Don wasn’t forced to answer just then, their serious discussion interrupted by the Dunne boy’s exclamation across the saloon. “You’re a girl!”
Don glanced over to the bar where Megan had removed her hat. A loose braid of honey blonde hair fell down her back. The young Casey punched JD’s arm.
“Ow! Casey, what’d you do that for?”
“What’s wrong with being a girl?”
“Nothing! Come on, I didn’t mean anything by it.” A tall man with a mustache leaned against the bar at JD’s shoulder; he just shook his head at the boy. “What? I was just surprised, is all.”
“I can outride and outshoot you or any ma—!”
“Oh, now, don’t start with that again.”
When Don returned his attention to his companions, Chris and Vin were sharing a grin. The Chris he’d met had never grinned. His face had been creased with lines of pain and anger, but those had mostly disappeared, Don noted. Didn’t mean that this Tanner was an innocent man, but Don had his own problems, chasing down the man that had killed his mother.
“Charlie.”
Charlie dragged his attention away from the bar and back to Don. After a moment of silent communication, the kind that was coming easier the longer they spent time in each other’s company, Charlie pulled out the oilskin pouch and withdrew the stack of posters they carried with them. He flipped through until he reached the one Don wanted, then slid it out of the pile and handed it to Don.
Don studied it. The likeness wasn’t all that good. Made Tanner look like a hard man, but even when he wasn’t smiling at Chris, Tanner didn’t appear hardened. A little shy, maybe, a bit world weary.
Don slid the poster across the table. “I’ll forget I ever heard of him, unless his name comes up again and I can’t.”
Chris folded the poster and slipped it into his pocket. “Appreciate it, Don.”
“Well, this is good whiskey,” Don said, and Chris smiled again, glanced at Tanner who just shook his head, tried to hide the answering smile curving the corners of his lips.
Charlie’s eyes brightened when Don asked about a bathhouse. He could do with washing off some of the trail dust, and anything that put a little light back into Charlie’s eyes was worth taking the time for.
“Go on up and tell Megan and the others that we’re spending the night here in town. We’ll get an early start in the morning.”
Charlie was out of the chair like a shot, only pausing long enough to make sure that Don had the pouch.
“He don’t talk much, for a professor,” Chris quietly observed.
Don watched Charlie make his way through the crowd to the bar, his gestures when he told Megan that they were staying the night the most animation Don had seen out of Charlie in too long.
“Ever since our mother was killed,” Don said.
“I’m sorry.”
Don could hear the sorrow in Chris’ voice.
“That Morgan feller?” Tanner asked.
Don nodded.
“I hope you find him, then.”
Don did, too, but he knew it wouldn’t bring their mother back. He was afraid that Charlie hadn’t figured that out yet. Before he could respond, the saloon doors swung open and his father walked in, a lovely blonde woman on his arm.
Don groaned. “Dad! Where have you been?”
Alan led the woman across to their table. “Donny! I told you that I was going to find the local newspaper. Newsmen, or women,” he said with a smile for the lady beside him, “know everything that’s going on in town, you know.”
“Hello, Mary,” Chris greeted the woman.
“Hello, Chris, Vin.”
“Miz Travis.”
“This is my son, the Marshal I was telling you about. Don, this is Mrs. Travis. She runs the Clarion.”
“Hello, Marshal.”
“Mrs. Travis.” Don took her proffered hand, then turned to his father. “And was Mrs. Travis able to assist you?”
“Uh, no, she hasn’t seen nor heard of Robert Morgan.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,” Mrs. Travis said.
“Well, we appreciate your time, ma’am.” Don stood and clapped his father on the shoulder. “We’re staying the night. Charlie and I are heading to the baths, you want to join us?”
“Maybe later. I think I’ll wash a little of the dust out of my throat first.”
“Mary?” Chris asked, issuing the invitation for her to join them as well.
“No, thank you, I need to get back to Billy.”
Mrs. Travis left and Don stepped back from the table. “Here, Dad, take my seat. This here is Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner; they’re the law around these parts. Gentlemen, this is my father, Alan Eppes.”
The three men took turns shaking hands and saying their ‘pleased ta meet ya’s, and then Alan sat down and poured some whiskey into Don’s discarded glass. He pounded it, washing away the trail dust and the disappointment of their quarry eluding them once more, then poured himself another.
“Just be careful of this one,” Don warned as he patted his father’s shoulder, and then gestured towards Chris. “I once had to arrest him for drunk and disorderly.” Don walked away, Chris’, “Thanks a lot,” echoing in his ears, and left Chris to explain.
Don stepped up behind Charlie at the bar, placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt the last of Charlie’s tension ebb away under his hand. Charlie leaned back so that they were just barely touching, taking as much comfort and strength from Don, as Don did from Charlie.
“Charlie tell you we’re heading to the bathhouse?”
“Once or twice,” Megan teased.
“You guys wanna join us?” Don asked David and Colby. Megan would have to wait her turn for the bathhouse, or use the facilities provided by the hotel.
“Nah,” David said. “I think I’m gonna head on over there, win me a few hands of poker.”
“Oh, this I gotta see,” Colby said. He finished his drink and set the empty glass down on the bar top, then followed David across the saloon to the table where Wilmington’s friend Ezra sat.
“Just don’t let him lose his shirt,” Don called.
Colby laughed. “I won’t. Not in here, anyway.”
“Megan, you mind getting us a couple rooms at one of the hotels?” Don had learned long ago that Megan was the one to trust with their money.
“Actually,” Megan said, “Casey here was just going to take me to the livery to show me her horse. Why don’t I get the horses stabled, and then I’ll get us some rooms.”
“And we’ll help,” Wilmington said, indicating himself and JD.
Don looked at Wilmington, then back to Megan, who just shrugged and smiled. Don shook his head. “Sounds good.”
Don led Charlie out of the saloon and they started down the boardwalk to the baths. Don hooked his arm around Charlie’s shoulders and pulled him in close, gave him a noogie. Charlie actually laughed as he struggled to free himself. It was a sound Don didn’t get to hear often enough, these days.
“Hey, maybe I’ll wash your back for you,” Don offered.
Charlie ducked his head and blushed. Don was grateful that one thing hadn’t changed at least. He could still make the blood brush to the surface of Charlie’s skin, make his heartbeat quicken, make his breaths come fast and harsh. And maybe, for now, that was enough.
(I was going to say Five Teams, but I was leary I wouldn't get them written, so I went with three. *g* There's a chance I may have to change that title, if I get really inspired, but in the meantime, these are the other 'teams' I'm considering: CSI, NCIS, Pacific Blue, SGA, SPN... Any others? Any preferences?)
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Date: 2007-07-10 07:57 pm (UTC)My preference would be for CSI definitely. I think Charlie would make an interesting CSI and Don would work for LVPD, of course! And SPN would be good. Never heard of Pacific Blue and I don't watch NCIS or SGA, but what about SG1? A team of Don, Charlie, Megan and David would be a nice mirror of the SG1 team, in looks at least.
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Date: 2007-07-15 11:13 pm (UTC)See, I figured Don to lead the CSI team, only because of the way I set up this series in my head, as teams Don is leading. But maybe he would make a good Brass to Charlie's Grissom?
I really like the idea of Don and Charlie (and whomever else I work in) as demon hunters.
Pacific Blue - cops at the beach on bicycles. Wearing bicycle shorts. Nuff said. *g*
NCIS, I'm thinking Don, Megan, Colby & David as the investigative team, Charlie in the forensics lab and Larry as the ME. *g*
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Date: 2007-07-16 07:55 am (UTC)Ooh yeah - Don as Brass, Charlie as Grissom would work ace!
Cops on bikes? Yum! Write it, write it! I need that visual in my head *g*
NCIS I haven't seen either...
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Date: 2007-07-10 08:43 pm (UTC)Poor Charlie. I'm glad Don's still kind of watching out for him.
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Date: 2007-07-15 11:14 pm (UTC)Love that icon.
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Date: 2007-07-11 12:08 am (UTC)You know one of my votes for other 'teams:' SPN; I'd also like to see SGA and...um, NCIS.
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Date: 2007-07-15 11:18 pm (UTC)Nah, I wanted to go another way with Marshal Eppes, and I came upon the idea of having their mother die not from cancer, but at the hands of this guy they're chasing. Not sure how realistic it would be for Don to forget he saw Vin, but I hope it worked within the fic. (And I couldn't NOT fit in a little Chris/Vin. *g*)
I'd love to do SPN! Don and Charlie and whomever else as demon hunters. (How's your coming? *g*)
NCIS is high on my list too. I'm imagining Don, Megan, Colby and David as the investigative team, Charlie in the forensics lab and Larry as the ME. *g*
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Date: 2007-07-16 12:27 am (UTC)Makes sense, since cancer wasn't as big an issue in the 19th century. I think, having his mother killed and chasing after the outlaw who did it might have made him more inclined to arrest Vin, but, as you mentioned in the fic, he trusts Chris' judgment and, though he hasn't consciously made the connection, he knows they're together and wouldn't begrudge them that.
Maybe you could draw a parallel with the Winchesters, Mom (or Dad) killed by something supernatural, bringing them into the 'life' and they end up traveling around the country and come across other hunters (Megan, Colby, and David) and maybe they finance it by occasionally taking time off so Charlie can do consulting work. (I'm stuck on part two. Well, actually a sex scene in part one that clarifies something
Ooh! That sounds awesome! ^______^
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Date: 2007-07-11 12:17 am (UTC)Eureka (mostly because Charlie would probably think he'd died and gone to heaven).
SGA could be fun.
Ooh, Ocean's 13.
Bones? Stand Off?
The Closer?
SG-1 back when Jack was in charge and Daniel was around?
Buffy? (Yeah, okay, angling for more Vampire Charlie, so sue me).
X-Files?
Project Runway?
Okay, stopping now.
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Date: 2007-07-11 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-11 02:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 11:21 pm (UTC)I meant to watch Burn Notice when it started, but I missed it and just don't have time to catch it. I could do that 500 word essay easy, lol. *g*
Eep! Sad to say, most of the shows you've mentioned I haven't seen.
I could do the Stargates, or Buffy. I'm imagining Don and Charlie as half of the Scourge of Europe. *g* I'd just need to figure out who the other two are. Or maybe it could just be them. *g*
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Date: 2007-07-16 07:42 am (UTC)Yes. Because you would love it! Love it, I say!
Sad to say, most of the shows you've mentioned I haven't seen.
I still say Don Eppes leads a team challenge on Project Runway ;)
I'd just need to figure out who the other two are. Or maybe it could just be them. *g*
Ian and Billy, of course. Though I think just them would work too!
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Date: 2007-07-11 01:53 am (UTC)Okay, Okay. I know BT isn't quite a "team" for Don to lead, but I'm in full agreement with Cyn: MORE VAMP!CHARLIE please. :)
Henry wouldn't turn Charlie and leave him, but he would make a great resource for the poor confused Eppeses, yes?
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Date: 2007-07-15 11:24 pm (UTC)Hee, I get it! I started writing more the other day after reading Cyn's comment. I have it mapped out, but things keep cropping up and getting in the way of the actual writing. I'll try to do better. *g*
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Date: 2007-07-11 03:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 11:26 pm (UTC)NCIS and SGA are high on my list. I hadn't even considered The Unit until it was mentioned above. Bad of me.
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Date: 2007-07-11 04:28 am (UTC)(Just because today was a horrible day and I am correspondingly goofy to try to rebound and I can tell you are a nice person and will forgive me--)
I don't know Mag7 at all, so I sort of saw this as a western, and then I got this weird Blackadder-ish vision of snippets of our boys through the ages, and then I decided to date myself and say, "Wild Wild West!" because Charlie would have such fun with Artemis Gordon, except, of course, Charlie belongs to Don--
I should probably go before I do any more damage.
(Oh. Yeah. Vamp!Charlie. Where *is* Don?)
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Date: 2007-07-15 11:29 pm (UTC)You envisioned it correctly. *g* Mag7 has pretty boys all its own, so well worth watching. (And it's out on DVD now. *g*)
*hangs head* I'm writing more, I swear!
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Date: 2007-07-12 04:46 pm (UTC)I think CSI would be great, I can imagine easily Charlie in a lab, he would be a wonderful Greg Senders!
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Date: 2007-07-15 11:30 pm (UTC)Yeah, Charlie wouldn't be so good on the scene, would he? But he'd be awesome in the labs. Hanging with Larry. *g*