Lords of Misrule
JD smiled sleepily up at Chris and whispered, "G'night," in response to the goodnight kiss brushed on his forehead. He closed his eyes to a slit and watched as Chris quietly picked up their empty mugs, and put the storybook away. He held his breath as Chris headed for the door, but then the long, black-clad legs stopped moving and he huffed out a sigh of impatience before he could stop himself, then buried his face in his pillow.
"JD?" Chris asked. JD peeked out and discovered Chris crouched by his bed. "Go to sleep, JD."
JD snored, loudly, and was disappointed when Chris chuckled and tousled his hair. "Good night, trouble. Night, Vin," he said and stood, smiling down at them.
"Night, Dad," Vin mumbled and JD yawned and closed his eyes.
"Night, Chris," he mumbled. A moment later the light went off, leaving just the little glowing lights plugged into the wall. Chris left the door open a little way, just far enough that the hall light shone in a long line across the floor and up the wall.
JD waited until the sound of Chris's feet reached downstairs, and he could hear Buck's deep voice and Chris answering in his lighter baritone.
"Vin?" he whispered. There was no reply. In the dim light he could see the lump that was his best friend completely covered by his bedclothes. Vin didn't move. "*Vin*!" he whispered more urgently.
"What, JD?" Vin grumbled, opening one eye and peering at him balefully.
"Buck said tomorrow was April Fool's day and we weren't to go wild!" he announced breathlessly. "Vin, what's April Fools day?" He liked the sound of 'wild'.
Vin blinked, then frowned as he tried to think if he had ever heard of April... oh... A slow, mischief-laden smile spread over his face and JD grinned and bounced on his bed in response.
"What, Vin? What is it? What do we do?"
Chris's voice rose from downstairs. "Boys, if you're out of bed..."
JD flopped onto his mattress and burrowed under his blankets, and Vin called indignantly, "We *ain't*."
"Then be quiet and go to sleep!"
"Yes, Chris!" they both yelled, and then giggled, far too excited to do either.
"If I have to come up there!" Buck yelled this time, and the boys tried to stifle snorts of laughter. Footsteps started up the stairs, and both boys dropped flat on their beds, tugging the bedding up around their chins.
"JD, shhh," Vin hissed sternly, and managed to drag an angelic calm over his face, closing his eyes and steadying his breathing into the slow deep cadences of sleep. JD watched Vin for a moment and then curled up, eyes closed, fits of giggles still shaking him every now and again.
They could hear soft footsteps on the stairs, and JD slitted one eye open to see Buck peeking into the room. He wanted to bounce up out of bed, and surprise him, but stayed still and quiet. As still as a mouse. As still as Vin had taught him to be.
"You boys behaving?" Buck asked quietly, and neither of them moved. "Well, you just settle down and go to sleep."
JD felt a giggle welling up, and bit the inside of his cheek, hard. Buck stood still, watching them for ages and ages. Finally, Buck leaned down on his bed, the mattress dipping under his hand.
"Sleep well, kiddo," he said quietly, and brushed a kiss on JD's hair. JD watched through his eyelashes as Buck leaned over Vin and did the same thing, whispering something too quietly for JD to hear. JD wanted to heave a huge sigh and stopped himself just in time. Wasn't Buck *ever* going away?
"Don't do anything permanent, boys, and keep the noise down," Buck said softly, and when JD looked at him, startled out of pretending to sleep, he found his foster-father grinning at them both.
Buck nodded at them and headed back downstairs. A moment later Vin slid out of his bed and padded silently over to JD.
"Move over," he ordered, and JD slid back until he was against the wall. Vin climbed in next to him, pulling the bedclothes up snugly, and grinned at him. "Aprils Fools Day," he said very quietly, "is when we get to play tricks on people, and they can't complain about it!"
"Really?" JD's eyes went wide.
"Just up to high noon," Vin added, looking a little disgruntled. "We gotta stop then, and," he went on, with the air of someone about to share terrible news, "an' they can play tricks on us too and we haveta take it, and say it's funny an' stuff, and not get mad."
"Oh." That didn't sound quite so good. JD focused on the bit he liked the sound of. "What sort of trick?" he whispered. Vin's eyes lit up.
"Well..."
**************************
Chris glared at the alarm clock and hit it until it stopped beeping at him. Morning seemed to come earlier and earlier as he got older. He rolled out of bed and headed, eyes half shut and yawning, into the bathroom. He didn't turn the light on, it was much too early to endure the bright electric light. He relieved himself, washed his face and hands, and lastly squirted toothpaste onto his toothbrush. Eyes still half closed, he thoroughly brushed his teeth. He cupped his hands under the water and rinsed, spat, and froze.
The water swirling down the drain was green. Bright, virulent green.
It took less than ten seconds for his brain to unfreeze, remember the day, and draw what was very nearly the correct conclusion. "Buck!" he roared, as he picked up first his green stained toothbrush, and then the paste. He squeezed the tube and the paste emerged, looking, well, green. "Buck, you bastard!!" Something caught his eye in the mirror, and he closed his eyes, offering a brief prayer that the coloring hadn't done what he thought it had done. Or alternatively, that the perpetrator be delivered into his hands. Soon.
He steeled himself and peered into the mirror, then resigned himself to turning on the light. He grimaced, peeling his lips back from his teeth, sticking out his tongue. Damn. His lips, tongue and teeth were green. He tried washing with water, and then soap and water, but nothing shifted it.
"I'm going to *kill* that man," he muttered, and stalked into his bedroom to get dressed. For an observant man, he'd singularly failed to observe the outer door of the bathroom cracked fractionally open, and the two boys, one standing, one crouched at his feet, both with their eyes glued to the spectacle of Chris dyeing his mouth green, their hands clamped over their own mouths to keep the giggles in.
**************************
Buck, as it happened, was outside while all this was going on. He had set his alarm for half past four, hoping to beat the boys up having set them off with the idea of April fools. He had been very cautious as he got washed and dressed, and was now chuckling off and on as he mucked out the horses. He couldn't help feeling that the boys were going to need all the help they could get in calming Chris down. He was longing to know what the pair had come up with, but staying safely out of the house seemed the better part of valor. If necessary, he wouldn't come back until really quite late.
He put out the horses' feed, and checked that the water filters were still good. It took him half an hour to untangle some of the tack up at the back of the barn, tack that hadn't been used in years. He thought about oiling it all, and then smiled to himself at the sound of yelling from the house, and slowly strolled back up to the house instead. Time to rescue the kids.
Chris was standing at the kitchen door glaring at him. At first he couldn't quite make out what was wrong. Chris's lips seemed darker than usual... he squinted, and as Chris opened his mouth to speak, Buck started laughing.
"Yeah, yeah, very funny, Wilmington." He growled. "You wait."
"Not me, buddy. What is that? Green food coloring?" he chuckled.
Chris muttered inaudibly, and turned back inside, saying as he headed into the kitchen, "I'm blaming you. I'd bet good money that the boys didn't think of this by themselves."
"It's all in fun. Aw, come on, Chris, at least they're willing to take the chance on us not getting mad at 'em. Ain't that worth it?" The line would have worked better if he hadn't been sniggering right through it.
"Get inside and help me fix breakfast before those hellions do something to that, too," Chris said brusquely, but there was a light in his eyes that made Buck relax.
Buck was still smiling as he started to toe off his work boots. Or at any rate, *tried* to. They didn't budge. He stole a quick glance at Chris, but he was mixing pancake batter and ignoring him. He braced against a wall and gripped the heel and yanked hard. Nothing happened.
"Aw, hell," he muttered, and pulled again with both hands on his boot. "Ow!" He fell sideways as his hands slipped. "What the hell?!"
Chris appeared in the doorway, a small smile dancing in his eyes. "Looks to me, *buddy*, like someone slicked your boots."
"But how -- what--"
Chris laughed and found an old towel. "Give it here." Buck raised a foot and Chris gripped it firmly, then gripped it at the least slick points -- heel and toe-- and pulled.
"Ow!" Buck bit his lip trying not to swear as Larabee upended him on his back and dragged him half across the floor trying to remove the boot. Chris was laughing too hard to carry on, and he slumped to the floor next to his friend.
"You know, Buck, I don't think it's just the slick that's the problem."
Buck looked up, dawning desperation in his eyes.
"Can you wiggle your toes?"
"No. No way." He scrunched up his toes and blew out a sigh of relief. "Hoo boy. Nope, no glue. They've been told not to use the glue without us around." For a moment there he'd had an image of his feet welded to the sole of his boots with some of the epoxy resin that they kept for heavy repairs. He scrunched his toes again, and closed his eyes as something squelched unpleasantly. "Aw, shit. I think it's syrup." Now he could feel it he couldn't imagine how he'd missed it earlier.
Chris clapped a hand on his shoulder and rolled to his feet. "Never mind, eh, Buck? It's all in fun, and it's great that they're feeling so comfortable around us." He headed back to making the pancakes, his shoulders shaking.
"Well screw you too," Buck grumbled, and used the towel to attack his boots again. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to get the boots off with a great sucking noise, and long strings of thick, filthy syrup everywhere. Chris made him wash his feet in the utility room before allowing him back into the rest of the house.
**************************
"Boys! Breakfast!" Chris yelled, and started on the eggs. Generally speaking by the time the pair of them got out of bed, pounded their way downstairs, remembered to go to the bathroom, were sent back to wash their hands, and finally made it to the table, he had time to set everything out.
This morning two angelically clean, completely dressed, sweetly smiling little boys appeared the second he yelled, so promptly that he was instantly suspicious.
"What are you up to?"
"Nothing," Vin said in tones of injured innocence. His eyes widened as Chris grinned at him ferally, exposing the green stained lips, teeth and gums.
"Yeah," JD bounced, then stood still when Vin poked him, and looked up at Chris, wide-eyed and earnest, "nothing at *all*."
"Hmm." He turned back to the stove, then snapped his head back so fast he caught a nerve in his neck. Neither boy had moved. "You washed your hands?"
"Yes, Chris," they chorused. He turned and listened, resigned to the sudden gust of giggling, punctuated with 'green!', squeaked in supposedly quiet voices.
"Vin, put the knives and forks out. Leave the plates, I'll get them. JD, get the milk and the cereal out."
Behind him the boys exchanged mischievous looks and chorused, "Yes, Chris!" The food coloring in the toothpaste had worked so well, and with so little consequences to themselves, that they agreed without any discussion to carry out the rest of the plan.
JD carefully carried over Buck's bran flakes, and set the distinctive box by his usual place. The frosted flakes were set between his and Vin's places, and he carefully pulled the gallon jug of milk out of the fridge. He shook the jug gently, and muffled a giggle when Vin put his finger urgently over his lips.
Chris looked thoughtfully at them, and walked over to the table. The boxes looked normal. The milk looked okay, although no one had yet poured it out. The sugar. He smiled thinly and licked a finger, then dipped it in the sugar, holding Vin's eyes as he did so. He was expecting salt, and the sweet flavor threw him for a second.
"Not supposed to do that, Chris," JD said from the safety of the far side of the table.
Chris smiled slowly. Sadly, the green dye left the expression considerably less intimidating than usual. "You're quite right. I was just checking nothing had happened to it."
He looked from JD to Vin, but although both of them were clearly excited, there didn't seem to be any imminent danger of catastrophe. He sighed and decided, as he poured out another pancake, the beaten eggs waiting on the side until everyone was at the table, that this looked like being a very long day.
"Buck, food's on the table," he called up the stairs. He grinned at the indecipherable noises that Buck made in reply. "Sit down boys, and get started."
Vin and JD exchanged looks, and obediently took their seats. Chris put out plates and bowls, and watched for a moment as they squabbled amicably over the cereal box until Vin said firmly, "*My* turn!" and JD gave in, letting go so abruptly that Vin nearly knocked his bowl off the table. Chris kept snatching quick glances, but everything seemed normal, and the pancake was starting to blacken at the edges.
The moment he turned to face the stove, prodding at the pancake with a spatula, JD rummaged in his pocket, and pulled out an extremely squished bag of chopped up marshmallows. Vin had 'borrowed' the marshmallows much, much earlier, and had carefully cut just the white ones into little jagged pieces with the knife Chris had given him for Christmas. The pink ones had been eaten as spoils of war. JD shook the bag under the table to loosen the pieces up and, behind cover of the carefully positioned frosted flakes, poured them all into the milk jug, where they bobbed and swam in little white lumps. Vin winked at JD and carefully swirled the jug until all the lumps were soaked in milk.
They had already poured their own milk, and sat stolidly eating their way through their bowls of cereal, as Buck hurried in, barefoot and wearing sweat pants so old that the elastic had gone in the waist.
"Mornin', boys," he said cheerfully, and hitched the pants up before sitting down.
"Morning, Buck!" the boys smiled back blindingly, and Buck looked over at Larabee, who smiled enigmatically back, and concentrated on scrambling eggs. "So, see you got both of us already," he said cheerfully.
"Yeah!" JD cheered. Vin frowned.
"Oh ho!" Buck smiled. "So, which one was you, little bit?"
"The syrup an' butter!"
Vin turned in his seat, "What?"
"Oh, young JD here put syrup in my boots so they stuck to my feet, and butter on the outside so Chris and I couldn't pull 'em off."
Vin giggled.
"An' Buck felled over when he tried to get 'em off, and then Chris dragged him aaaaalll over tryin' to get 'em off, and then Buck went upstairs, and I don't know what happened then, but he hasn't got them on no more." JD couldn't stop giggling, and that, combined with the fingers over his mouth made it quite difficult to follow him.
Buck blinked. "How did you see all of that?"
"I hidded in the laundry bin! You looked *soooooooo* funny!" JD told him triumphantly. For a moment Buck was speechless.
"You little--"
"You said no one would get mad!" Vin glared, and Buck smoothed his face with an effort.
"You're right, and you got me good." He poured out his bran flakes, and reached for the milk. "You boys had enough milk?" he asked the kids before he poured, there wasn't that much left.
"Yeah, there were kinda bits in it, so you can have the rest," Vin said generously.
Chris and Buck looked at each other in horror, and Buck grabbed the jug and tilted it. Slimy white lumps floated in it and he swore. "Shit, kids, tell me you didn't drink this!"
JD looked innocently up, and said, "It was yummy," and picked up his bowl and drank all the remaining milk out of it, a thing he was categorically forbidden to do at the best of times.
"No!"
"JD, no!"
JD put the bowl down, a milk mustache over his upper lip, and a huge grin on his face. "April Fool!" he yelled, and laughed so hard he fell off his chair.
Vin was chortling silently, his whole body shaking with laughter.
"You--"
"Buck," Chris said warningly, and Buck forced a smile. Maybe it wasn't Chris who was going to need to have help making sure the boys survived the day. "What is it?" he asked Vin, since JD was still cackling wildly on the floor. He fished out a lump with one finger and sniffed it, then nibbled, and shook his head.
"Chris!" Buck protested.
"Marshmallow?" The corners of Chris's eyes crinkled and Vin took heart.
"Yup," he nodded, one eye still on Buck.
Chris swirled the jug thoughtfully, then looked at the grinning child across the table from him. "Let me guess. You two ate all the pink ones."
Vin nodded, a wicked little smirk on his face.
"No wonder JD's hyped." Chris sighed. "Fine, you finished there?" Vin nodded, and he walked around the table, and hauled JD onto his chair with a hand in his t-shirt, and another in the seat of his pants. "Up you go. You done?"
"Ahuh," JD smiled, nodding rapidly. "Can I have eggs now?"
"Sure; Vin?"
"Me too," Vin agreed, and Chris looked doubtfully at them both, and said, "No new food tricks, okay?"
JD and Vin looked at each other and sighed hugely. "Okay," they said. When Chris's back was turned they showed each other their crossed fingers. Buck groaned.
"Problem, Buck?" Chris asked.
"Not a one," Buck winked at the boys. "Never a problem in the world."
"There better not be." Chris carried a plate of pancakes over to the table, and then brought the scrambled eggs. There wasn't a sound except for the cutlery on plates as everyone helped themselves to the food, and asking for the salt and pepper to be handed over. Then Chris picked up the ketchup bottle.
JD's eyes rounded with horror, but Chris was looking at Vin, whose face was cool and calm, apparently unconscious of any anxiety.
Buck saw JD's face, glanced at Larabee, and then winked slowly at JD, who quickly ducked his head to eat another mouthful of pancake.
Chris squirted the dark red liquid out onto the eggs, and as usual, mixed it in thoroughly, turning the whole meal a gruesome orange color. Then he took a mouthful.
"What the hell!"
"Gotcha!" Vin howled with laughter. He was poised on the side of his chair, ready to run in case it didn't work out quite as planned, but Chris just sat back and stared at him.
"What--?"
"It's strawberry!" Vin choked out, between fits of giggles. "I got the ketchup out and washed it, and put the strawberry sauce in instead!"
"You sly little brat!" Chris said, but he sounded faintly admiring too. "You know, this isn't bad." He took another mouth and ate it slowly. "Maybe I'll try that again," he teased Vin. Vin wrinkled his nose, and JD said:
"Yuck! Chriiiiis!"
Chris grinned and pointed his fork at the boys. "Gotcha!"
The kids groaned, and Chris went to tip the strawberry scrambled eggs down the waste disposal.
Buck chuckled, "Guess that's both of us got but good." He reached across the table and tousled JD's hair. "Now, anything else before I eat up that you want to tell me about the meal?"
Vin and JD looked at each other, and then back at their parents, and with identical, wicked grins shook their heads. "Nope." There wasn't anything they *wanted* to tell them.
"You sure?"
"Yup." Vin assured him. JD just covered his mouth and giggled.
Buck dipped his fork into his eggs and was about to take a mouthful when JD snorted. "There a problem with my eggs, young man?" He fixed JD with a hard stare. JD reached unseen for Vin's hand. Vin squeezed it under the table, and JD solemnly shook his head, confidence bolstered by his friend.
"Good." Nonetheless he took a smaller bite than he had first intended to, and a moment later spat it out. "What the -- what did you do to those eggs, Chris?"
"Nothing!" Chris glared at the boys as he sat back down. "Better ask those little hell raisers of yours what *they* did."
"Nothing!" Vin said.
"Buck did it!" JD chirped and then winced as Vin kicked him under the table.
"*I* did it?" He looked thoughtfully at the table, then picked up the salt cellar and tipped a little into his palm, then touched the tip of his tongue to it. "Sugar!" he said accusingly.
"I checked that they hadn't put salt in the sugar bowl," Chris said with a slow smile, "Didn't check the other way 'round." He nodded to Vin who visibly straightened, pride at 'getting' Chris and Buck pushing past the lingering anxiety.
"Have you boys done anything else to any of the food in the house?" Buck asked, looking between the two kids. "I think green teeth and ruined boots, and the milk and the ketchup and salt are quite enough."
JD looked at Vin, who shook his head.
"The food is safe?"
"Yup." Vin smiled sweetly, and both Chris and Buck's faces drew into a frown.
"And the rest of the house is safe too?" Chris asked sternly.
JD pouted. "Buck said we had till midday."
"Oh he did, did he?" Chris turned his hardest of hard stares on Buck, who shifted uneasily.
"Just thought I'd spark the kids up some," he tried feebly. Chris glared. "And it's only till noon," he offered in further mitigation. "Aw, Chriiiis," he whined, and Chris had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing at him. He could see it hadn't worked in the way Buck's eyes crinkled smugly.
Chris sighed, and shook his head. "Just, don't turn me green again?" he asked plaintively and Vin and JD grinned widely at each other.
"Oh, no," JD reassured him. "Not *green*."
Buck couldn't hold back the crack of laughter at Chris's expression, and JD and Vin laughed too in response, until Chris couldn't help joining in. He reached a long arm over the table and tweaked JD's nose. "Not green or any other color, understand?"
"Okay, Chris." He slid a glance at Buck and then asked, with his cutest, most helpless and adorable expression, "Does that mean Buck too?"
Chris took a long, speculative look at Buck, who shook his head, "No, no, oh, pard, now, come on, this is me, your partner, your buddy, your friend, your *oldest* friend!"
"Have a nice day, Buck," Chris leaned back in his chair and grinned at the boys. He winked at JD, who grinned hugely back.
"Come on, Vin!" JD bounced, and before either man could call them back, the boys were gone.
Buck closed his mouth with a snap. "You're insane. Dammit, I'm the good guy here! It could have been all day if I hadn't stopped them!"
Chris smiled inwardly, keeping his face impassive. "I notice *your* teeth aren't green. Payback's a bitch, pard. Payback is a bitch."
"They could-- do you have any idea -- what if-- oh my god they could be plotting something *right* *now*!" And Buck was sprinting after the children.
Chris smirked and stretched. There was a creaking, cracking sound of severely over-stressed wood. A moment later he was sprawled on the floor among the remains of the kitchen chair.
"I'm going to kill them!"
**************************
Contrary to expectation, the morning passed with very few new catastrophes. Buck's toothpaste had been dyed blue, but forewarned by Chris's misfortune, he checked before putting it in his mouth. The shower had been more exciting -- bicarbonate of soda had bubbled up from the drain eagerly when Chris started the water running. On the plus side, it made him think to try bicarbonate on his teeth, and they at least were rather less green than they had been, fading instead to a rather unpleasant yellow. Buck however hadn't spotted the fresh baby powder on his hair brush, and Vin's innocent comment about 'old people's hair' had sent him rushing to the nearest mirror, where he found his glossy black hair dull and grey.
He hadn't needed the sound of laughter from the living room to know he'd been had again.
By mutual, instant agreement, Chris and Buck decided to take the kids out of the house for the rest of the day. It was fine and sunny, and even the breeze felt warm. More to the point, the longer the boys were out of the house, and away from any remaining ingredients for havoc and misdeeds, the safer their parents felt.
They took the boys out riding, carrying a picnic lunch with them, well away from the booby-trapped house. Once noon was safely past Buck ruthlessly tickle attacked JD until he told them what Buck hoped were all the remaining hazards, including short-sheeted beds, ketchup in the strawberry sauce bottle (which they kicked themselves over), and grease and syrup in Chris's work boots too.
Buck was finally satisfied at last that JD had nothing further to tell and relented, easing off with the tickling. JD bounced to his feet and ran for freedom.
"Not out of sight!" Buck called, and heard a distant 'Okay!" float back. He sighed, and started packing the remains of the food away. Once that was done he settled in for a nice long snooze in the sunshine.
Vin edged slowly to the banks of the fast running stream at one edge of the meadow, until Chris said, "Not too close."
Vin nodded, and sprawled face down on a rock by the mountain stream, watching the water rush and tumble down the rocks. He was close enough to dangle one hand in the water, and splashed it idly, scooping mud and pebbles from the shallows, and letting it trickle out, washed away by the current.
"Why's it so fast?"
"All the snow is melting from the winter." Chris said, peering at Vin from half closed eyes. He could hear JD's happy voice chirping to himself in the distance, and smiled faintly.
"Oh." Vin tucked his chin on his hands and watched, completely absorbed by the tumbling water.
Chris cast his eye around the meadow. JD was flitting from place to place, apparently chasing something, maybe an insect, maybe just his own imagination.
"When'd you guys get up, anyway?" Chris asked after nearly an hour of peace and quiet, broken only by JD's distant chatter.
Vin turned his head and looked at Chris. "Early."
"How early?"
"Reckon might have been about three," he said laconically, and turned his head back to watching the stream. "There's fish in here," he added softly, "look, Chris."
Chris got up and walked over to Vin's rock, crouching next to it. "You know what kinda fish?"
Vin shook his head and looked expectantly at Chris. "Trout," Chris said. "Look," and he pointed out the shape of the body and the fins.
"C'n we go fishin'?"
"Sure. When it's warmer, we'll head out real early one morning, go to one of the rivers where we don't have to catch and release. Bring 'em home for dinner, maybe even grill 'em out back."
"Really?" Vin's eyes were wide, and not for the first time Chris was abruptly reminded of how little had been 'normal' in this boy's life before now.
"Yeah, really," was all he said, though, and draped an arm over the boy's back, leaning against his rock.
"Cool." Vin dangled his fingers in the water, and the fish skittered away. His face fell, and Chris tightened his arm over Vin's back.
"It's okay, you startled him. Keep your fingers in there, wiggle them just a little bit," he advised softly. "Nice and easy, don't make any sudden moves. That's it."
Vin frowned but tried it. A few minutes later the fish came swimming back, and investigated. Vin wriggled, but kept his hand steady. "That tickles!"
"Tickles the trout too. My grandfather used to tickle them right out the water like that. Just slip his fingers underneath and then grab and throw 'em onto the bank. You've got to be fast though, or they get away."
Vin waggled his fingers steadily, but his eyes were on Chris, round and disbelieving. "Y'ain't foolin' me, are you?" he asked suspiciously.
"Nope. You ask Buck. He'll tell you the same thing."
"Buck tickled trout too?"
Chris laughed at the idea. "Nah. Both of us used to tag along after my Grandpa in the summer vacation. His Ma and my parents were working, so Grandpa'd keep an eye on us." He smiled at the memories.
"Wow." Vin had clearly never considered Chris as a boy, nor as someone with parents, much less grandparents. "Your Grandpa must be *old*."
Chris's smile faded. Richard Larabee had died four years ago, not long before Adam and Sarah. Abruptly he was grateful the old man hadn't lived to see the terrible fire that had killed his beloved great-grandson.
"He died a while back," he said quietly.
"Oh."
"But you're right, he was over eighty when he died." Chris forced a smile, "He would have loved you."
"An' JD?" Vin asked anxiously, looking for the little black-haired boy. JD was squatted down by a tree, poking at something in the dirt.
Chris's smile became genuine and he laughed. "JD would have driven him mad, and he'd have loved him too." He glanced at the mostly oblivious Buck and added, "He--heck, he liked Buck well enough, and he was three times the trouble JD is."
"Any trouble I got into, you were right there too, Larabee," Buck said mildly, without opening his eyes. He sat up and rubbed at his face, yawning hugely. "Man, I need to get some sleep in." He looked around. "What's the brat doing?"
"Grubbing." Chris glanced over and his shoulders shook with amusement. Only JD's butt and the soles of his feet were visible, the boy was apparently trying to get inside a hole in the tree.
"JD! Come over here!" Buck yelled.
JD's dark head appeared, and he raced over to them, calling excitedly, "Birds! Baby birds!"
"Leave 'em alone, kid," Buck advised. "You don't wanna get your skull ventilated by a pissed off woodpecker."
"Buck," Chris frowned at him.
Buck rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, kids, I used a bad word and you shouldn't repeat it, okay?" he said sing-song, and glared at Larabee who simply lifted an eyebrow at him; 'You want them to repeat that to the judge at the adoption hearing?' loud and clear in his face, though the words, too hard for fragile little ears, stayed unspoken.
JD ignored the whole thing, and dropped, angular knees first, onto Buck's outstretched legs. Buck buckled, folding almost in two, catching the kid as he reflexively curled up to protect himself.
"Buck! There's lil baby birds in the tree, and a big bird came and flapped at them, was that their mama? Do baby birds get mamas?"
"Really, yes, probably. Yes," Buck tried to keep up, but it was a losing battle.
"Come on, Buck!" JD bounced to his feet and tugged hard on Buck's hand, "Buuuuck! Come an' see!"
"You shouldn't go disturbing them, kiddo," Buck restrained JD by swinging the kid up onto his shoulders and standing. "Their momma will get scared and maybe not come back and feed them, and they'll starve to death."
He could feel JD's slump in the increased weight on his shoulders.
"I managed without my Mama," he protested quietly.
"Well, you're bigger than them little birds, right."
"Guess so," JD whispered. "Are they gonna go die now?"
Buck was stumped. If the kid had been his usual rambunctious self around the nest, then there was every chance he'd scared the parents away permanently. But he wasn't going to go through the misery of taking baby birds home, crawling with God knows what, feeding them with mashed up worms and insects, only to watch them die, one by one. Even if one survived, JD's heart would be broken when it flew away and never came back. "Nah." He smiled with relief as a bird flitted into the bole of the tree, disappeared briefly and then flew away again. "See, there's the momma-bird right there. They'll be fine."
"Good." JD bounced on Buck's shoulders, his spirits entirely lifted again. "Hey! Can I go in the water too?" he asked, just as there was a huge splash. Buck whirled around, JD swinging perilously on his shoulders. "Do it again!"
"Not now, kid," he said and dropped JD to the ground, setting off at a run for the stream where Vin was sitting in the shallow water, cackling madly and pointing at Chris, who was sprawled face down in the water, just lifting his head with a deeply disgruntled expression on his face.
"What in--" Buck changed his mind at the inquisitive blue eyes looking up at him. "What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Chris said frostily, and took Buck's offered arm. "Get out of the water, Vin."
Vin swished his hands back and forth happily and grinned up at Buck, "Chris was showing me how to hunt the dreaded horn-toothed snipe-fish." He tilted his head and looked innocently at Chris, "We nearly got one, didn't we, Chris, 'cept I fell in when Chris helped me." He smiled sweetly. "He said sometimes the only way to catch 'em was jump 'em an' wrestle 'em to the ground. I was jus' asperimenting."
"Ha! You get took for a snipe-fish, pard?" Buck hooted with laughter. "Biter bit."
"Shut up, Buck."
There was another, smaller splash and everyone flinched as JD's small body impacting the water scattered snow melt in a disproportionately wide area.
"Me too!" JD bubbled happily as he emerged, drenched.
Vin just laughed until Chris unceremoniously hauled him out by the back of his jacket, and Buck leaned in to do the same to JD. He had to lean quite a distance out to reach the boy without getting into the stream. He didn't see pale eyes meet darker blue. Nor the uncanny resemblance in the look of unholy mischief on both faces as Chris and Vin turned and pushed the already off-balance Buck just that little bit further.
Then the pair of them ran as one to where the horses were picketed, Chris swung Vin up, wrapping the picnic blanket around him and then mounted behind him. He called back to Buck, "Best get that kid wrapped up and home before he gets sick on you," and kicked his horse into a steady trot down the mountain.
Buck could be heard yelling blue murder after them as they headed down the mountain. JD was still laughing so hard he was whooping and gasping for breath, and scaring the birds for miles.
"He's not supposed to say stuff like that, is he," Vin said thoughtfully, peering back around Chris's body. He could just about make out Buck stalking across the meadow, JD bouncing around his feet as he picked up the evidence of their lunch there. Vin let a small smile break through, and settled back.
"Nope."
"So, he's being bad?" Vin sounded tentative, and Chris wondered what the boy was thinking. "Cos, if he's been bad, he oughta be punished, right?"
"Maybe," he agreed cautiously. "Did you have something in mind?"
"Maybe." And Vin snuggled comfortably into Chris's wet chest and refused to say another word on the matter.
About an hour later the four of them were clean, warm and dry, after hot showers all round. Chris settled the boys in front of the television, bundled up in the fuzzy blankets usually kept for winter. Buck was in the kitchen waiting for the hot cocoa made to his mother's secret recipe to come out of the microwave. The drink usually involved marshmallows and maple syrup, but to no one's surprise, both ingredients were in short supply, and Buck had improvised with toffee dessert topping instead.
Chris wandered into the kitchen as the timer went off, and Buck handed him the mugs with a certain air of vindictiveness. Chris snickered quietly as he carried the sweet drinks into the living room and handed them to the boys. They were sprawled out on the floor watching something called Earthworm Jim with every evidence of delight. Chris settled in his usual sprawl on the couch. A couple of minutes later Buck appeared with two steaming mugs of coffee, and handed one over.
"You boys okay?" he asked, pausing by the two boys on the way to his laz-e-boy.
"Ahuh." Vin buried his nose in his cocoa, apparently riveted to the screen. JD was a little less discreet, and grinned up at Buck.
"Yup!" he bounced, the hot cocoa nearly sloshed over the sides of his mug and he made haste to slurp up some more before it could escape.
Buck thought nothing of it. It was long past the noon limit he'd told the boys, and he felt pretty safe. He sighed with contentment as he sat down, stretching out gratefully in his worn, comfortable old chair.
There was a soft 'snick', a ripping sound, and a 'chuff'; and he watched resignedly as a sparkling cloud of brightly colored dust descended. Looking up he could see a torn paper bag hanging inside the lampshade directly above his head, and a long piece of fish line running from it to his chair. Glitter settled slowly all over him, drifting into his coffee, and festooning the chair and floor.
The boys were nearly crying with laughter, and even Chris was shaking, a tight, closed mouth smile pulling hard on his (still greenish) lips. Buck lifted one hand and blew gently. Some of the glitter floated away, the rest stayed obstinately on the back of his hand, trapped under the dark hairs.
"Do you know how long it's going to take to get rid of this?" He peered warily inside his coffee mug, and was confronted by twinkling motes floating in his long awaited caffeine. He shook his head, and a storm of tiny bits of glitter escaped onto his shoulders, and Chris lost it, laughing helplessly at him.
Buck sighed, and surveyed the three of them. He closed his eyes, and found himself shaking with silent laughter until he was laughing out loud in guffaws that rang in the house until they were all crowing until they were breathless.
"More coffee?" Chris asked, a twinkle in his eyes. For some reason that set them all off again, and Buck pointed his mug at the boys.
"You two. *You* two." He shook his head, triggering more giggles from the boys as glitter cascaded down from him. "You just wait till *next* year," he said with a dangerous smile. Chris groaned.
"You started it. You can clear up the mess," he said firmly, and headed out to the kitchen, ruffling both boys' hair on his way past. As he left they could all hear the loudly muttered, "Thank God it's a year before we have to go through this again!"
Vin and JD just grinned at each other, both thinking the exact same thing: They had a whooooole *year* to plan the next one...
********************The End****************
Probably.
*g*.
Added notes: I swiped a line from The Sentinel. If you didn't notice it, no worries, but I feel obliged to point out that someone else penned the immortal line: 'ventilated by a pissed off [bird]'. And the other thing, the brit assumption that I knew about, unlike the ones I didn't/don't yet know about *g*, was that marshmallows, the round ones suitable for cooking on campfires, come in bags of pink and white. No other colours that I've ever seen, unlike the little tiny ones for hot chocolate and cereal. Hope you enjoyed ;-)
And like the man says: Have a *nice* day.
*eg*
Raven
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fandoms listed herein. I am certainly making no money off of these creative fan tributes to a wonderful, fun show.