The sound of excited whispering and giggling woke Chris from blissful slumber. Cautiously prising open an eye, he peered blearily at the clock, groaning into the pillow when he saw it was only five am.

"See, JD, tol’ ya he’d be awake!"

Chris sat up in bed when he heard his son’s loud stage whisper, wincing painfully as the main bedroom light was suddenly switched on. Standing in the doorway, like a pair of small statues, were Vin and JD.

"What the heck…?"

"Happee Birday, dad!"

"Happa Birfday, Cwith!"

The boisterous greeting, squealed out in unison by the two pyjama-clad boys, reverberated through Chris’ sleep-fogged, alcohol-heavy brain. He knew it had been a big mistake cracking open that bottle of Jack Daniels the previous evening, but Buck had insisted they celebrate the senior agent’s forthcoming birthday in style. It had turned one in the morning before the pair had finally crawled into their respective beds, and the blond’s head was feeling the lack of sleep almost as much as the after-effects of the liquor.

Of course, Chris had had worse hangovers in the past. In those bleak months following the slaughter of his family, he’d rarely made it as far as his bed after heavy drinking sessions that began in the day and lasted all evening. It had been a regular occurrence for Buck to discover his drunken friend at his ranch, either passed out on the living room floor, in the den, or occasionally stretched out half naked in the barn or corral.

However, Larabee’s wild nights of excessive drink binges had abruptly ceased when he’d found, fostered, and then eventually adopted the seven-year old Vin Tanner. Last year he’d had the luxury of sleeping until noon and rousing under his own steam – but then he’d woken to an empty house and spent his birthday alone, deliberately ignoring his friends’ collective attempts to celebrate. Things were very different now, and Chris wouldn’t change what he had for one second. Not even after being woken at an ungodly hour like this one. Ah, well, he thought philosophically, if this is the cost of my second chance parenthood, then it’s a very small price to pay.

"Uhh… thanks, guys," Chris eventually mumbled, in a croaky voice. He frowned in confusion when Vin suddenly scurried from the room.

The older boy soon returned carrying a large, two-handled tray. Vin’s face was a picture of studied concentration, his blue eyes round like saucers and glued to the tray’s contents, as he slowly and very cautiously made his way over to the bed.

"We cooked ya a nice birday bweakfuss," Vin lisped through the gap in his front teeth, although he never looked at his father.

As the youngster carefully placed the tray on Chris’ quilt-covered lap he relaxed, and a shining look of love and pride lit up his childish features. Both boys stood in silence beside the bed, looking decidedly pleased and obviously waiting for the blond to make some type of comment.

The man gave the pair a half-hearted smile, but it instantly faded when he saw the sumptuous ‘meal’ in front of him. Chris blinked in astonishment, and for several long seconds he was unsure what to say to Vin and JD.

A mug, with a plastic spoon stuck in it, contained freezing cold water, and floating on the top and resembling brown scum, were the coffee grounds. A slice of hard, blackened toast, with several nodules of grey-yellow butter haphazardly stuck to it, was on a side plate. Vying for space on the rectangular tray was what appeared to be the largest serving platter in the pantry, and it was this that now captured Chris’ stupefied gaze.

Laid out on the over-sized plate was what the two boys believed to be a feast fit for a King. Two pink, fat-dotted sausages sat side by side, and decoratively curled around them was a long rasher of rather sweaty-looking bacon. Another slice of greasy bacon was neatly folded into a square-like bundle next to its partner. This delicacy had clearly been forced into a relatively tidy heap, because a hollowed area, roughly the size of a child’s thumbprint, could be seen in the centre. An over-ripe tomato had been…. Just what had happened to the tomato?

Chris did a double take, quickly gulping back the nausea that travelled up his throat as he stared at the congealed mass. The tomato’s skin and flesh had been pulped to a soggy mush, and pink, watery juice from the fruit bled into the glistening sausages and bacon. In pride of place in the middle was an egg – still in its shell. Everything on the plate was raw and, when his belly gave a sickly flutter, Chris seriously thought he would vomit.

"This looks absolutely…. delicious, son," he managed to get out, forcing a tight smile as he gave the ‘coffee’ an experimental stir.

"I helped Vin ‘n’ all," JD intoned in a solemn voice.

"I’m sure you did, JD. Well done both of you."

"See, JD," – Vin nudged the other purposely – "I said he’d be pleased. We got up real early, Chris, but we’s ain’t allowed to use the stove or kettle, so we could only do the toast proper."

"But…. but then Vin got smoke caught in the toaster, and the bread went all black. It was hotted an’ I dropped it, but I cleaned it off real good before Vin put butter on with his thumb," JD piped up, poking a chubby finger through the crispy, carbonised bread.

"Aww… JD! Look what ya done! It’s got a hole in it now!" Vin wailed, pouting crossly at the boy he considered to be his brother.

"That’s okay, son," Chris soothed, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have to eat the tantalising repast in front of him.

"Ain’t ya hungry, dad?"

"Ah… umm…. Yeah, sure I am, Vin. I’m just a… a little overwhelmed, and surprised that you and JD were able to do this all on your own. The kitchen’s normally off-limits unless Buck or I are around to supervise you."

Vin scrambled up onto the bed, carefully avoiding the tray Chris held onto. The boy shook his head vigorously, desperate to let his father know that he and JD hadn’t broken any house rules.

"I didn’t use a knife or nuthin’ sharp, ‘cause Uncle Nathan said we ain’t never allowed t’take ‘em from that big wooden block," Vin avowed, his eyes wide and filled with innocence.

"So how did you cut up the tomato?"

The puzzled question popped out before Chris could stop it. He wasn’t really sure he wanted an answer, but the agent had a morbid curiosity to find out how the boys had achieved the feat without using a knife.

The older boy’s face lit up with satisfied pleasure as he indicated the eviscerated tomato. "I pulled the ‘mata t’bits wit’ m’teeth, an’ chewed it up real small fer ya," Vin replied in a proud tone. "I saved ya the bestest part, but I couldn’t help eatin’ them squishy pips, ‘cause they’s jes’ slid to m’tummy."

Chris groaned inwardly, convinced his stomach was about to leap into his mouth. The smell of the raw sausages and bacon was ravaging his nostrils, and the tomato reminded him of something he’d seen in a hospital emergency room – or on a slab in the City’s morgue. How could he get out of this predicament without hurting both boys feelings? Where the hell was Buck when he needed him?

"You did good, son," Chris assured the youngster.

As the man twisted around in the bed to reward the boy with a fatherly cuddle, the tray suddenly began to slip sideways off Chris’ lap. JD saw the heavy platter shift on the shiny surface and, clambering onto the edge of the mattress, the child leant closer to rescue the breakfast the pair had so lovingly prepared. In his eagerness to help, JD fell awkwardly, and seeing the boy start to wobble dangerously, Chris stuck out one arm to support the little body. His other hand automatically went out to try and steady the plate, but it was too little too late.

JD’s full weight rested on the man’s arm, and it took all of Chris’ concentration to ensure the child didn’t fall off the high-lofted bed. Not really paying much attention to the tilting plate, the blond’s other hand hastily went down to try and make the save. Hampered by the two children crowded around him, Chris’ questing hand landed right on top of the raw egg.

The fragile shell exploded under his palm and glutinous albumen and yolk sprayed outwards on the plate, coating the other raw ingredients liberally with sticky, yellow goo. Chris felt fragments of sharp shell dig into his skin but, with the squirming JD still held in one arm, he kept pushing down on the nauseating morass just to keep the plate from sliding to the floor. He couldn’t handle both boys and this disgusting mess on his own. Chris needed help – and pretty damned quick!

Chris’ frantic bellow to his oldest friend sleeping in the adjacent room, caused Vin to jump, and it was that more than the sight of the ruined breakfast that triggered a distressed response in the boy. Tears suddenly welled up in Vin’s eyes, and his lower lip trembled, although he didn’t make any sound. His little body shook with barely controlled anguish, and the tears began to stream unchecked down his cheeks.

"’M sor… s… sorry, Chris," he stammered, brushing away the wetness with his pyjama sleeve. This was his fault, and now Chris would be cross about the wasteful mess.

"It’s okay, Vin, it was an accident. No damage was done," Chris murmured, wishing he had a free hand to give the tearful boy some loving reassurance.

Buck suddenly flew through the door, mumbling a mild oath when he stubbed his toe on the doorframe, although it didn’t stop his progress as he hopped towards the bed. It was hard to miss the fear and worry painted on the tall man’s sleep-creased features. As the ladies’ man skidded to a halt by the end of Chris’ bed, he gaped at the astonishing tableau in front of him.

"Shi… darn it, Chris! You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought something had happened to one of the kids!" the tall agent snorted, relief lighting up his face when he realised there wasn’t a medical emergency.

"Hey, little bit! What’s wrong, fella?" Buck asked the madly struggling JD, as he moved towards the boy.

"Quickly, Buck! Grab JD and the mug. Then get a towel or something. If I let go, this lot is gonna end up on the floor," Chris hastily explained.

The moustached man scooped up the five-year old, and immediately started to console the slightly panicked child. As Buck disappeared into the bathroom, JD began to giggle, his own anguish totally forgotten now his beloved father had arrived.

Chris finally managed to get an arm around the older boy. His other hand was still covered in raw egg and firmly splayed over and holding the breakfast platter, but he wanted to give Vin as much attention as possible.

"C’mon, tiger - don’t get upset now. It wasn’t anyone’s fault the tray slipped, and I’m truly not angry with you. You did a really good job getting all this organised, and it was a lovely birthday breakfast in bed. I reckon it’s one of the nicest surprises I’ve ever had," Chris declared, his eyes sincere as he managed to pull Vin closer into his body.

"But… it all… got spoilt."

Chris heard the hitching sob in his son’s tremulous voice, and knew that he needed to distract the overly sensitive boy before he got too upset. By now Buck had returned - with the chuckling JD clinging onto him piggyback style and urging his ‘hoss’ to trot faster – and rescued the tray. Winking and smiling at the worried-looking Vin, Buck passed his oldest friend a damp washcloth and towel, before obliging his impish son by loping out of the bedroom with the ruined breakfast.

With a final wipe of his egg-encrusted hand, Chris lobbed the soiled cloths through the open bathroom door. Shifting across the mattress slightly and stacking the pillows upright against the headboard, the blond then drew the boy into bed beside him. Vin was still shaking from suppressed reaction, so Chris straightaway hugged the other’s rigid body close to his. It tore the normally hardened agent apart to see his son like this. Aware that Vin tended to shoulder the blame if something went wrong in the Larabee-Wilmington household, the man wanted to comfort the anxious youngster as quickly as possible.

"I know it did, pard," Chris whispered, planting a consoling kiss on the youngster’s tousled, golden-brown curls. "But it doesn’t matter too much, because it’s the thought that counts. It was a special thing to do, and both you and JD worked hard to make that breakfast on your own."

"I… should’a waited… fer Buck, but he was ‘splodin’ out… thunder whistles, an’ I couldn’t wake him… up," Vin explained plaintively, hiccupping on the last word.

Chris smiled at the boy’s unique description of Buck snoring, and dropped another tender kiss on Vin’s head. Lifting his son onto his lap, the man relaxed back on the pillows, cradling Vin against his chest and rubbing the child’s tense shoulders to try and ease his sorrow. This was a rare treat for the youngster, as he wasn’t usually allowed in Chris’ bed, unless he was sick. Vin smiled through his tears and snuggled into his father’s firm hold, sighing rapturously when the man re-adjusted the quilt over the pair of them.

Neither father nor son were overly demonstrative as a rule, but they had built up a special rapport, a powerful bond, and often just sat together quietly enjoying each others company. They had no need for words in their unique relationship, sometimes communicating with merely an exchange of looks or a small tilt of the head – much to the bemusement of Chris’ fellow agents. The bedroom was peacefully hushed as the pair revelled in their embrace, each drawing strength and pleasure from this moment of private solitude. As Chris continued to absently stroke Vin’s taut back, he felt the boy’s tremors ease, until they stopped completely. The man breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Despite the warmth and tenderness that Larabee continually lavished on the vulnerable child, Vin was still very insecure. The youngster seemed to think he would be sent away from the people and place he loved for even the smallest infraction or childish escapade, and this inexplicable fear made him act way beyond his years. Vin was always so serious, and could be very jumpy and nervous, particularly when around a lot of people; although in the last few months he’d begun to withdraw from his shell. It was only recently that the traumatised youngster had started to behave like other children his age, so Chris and Vin’s psychologist had trimmed down the boy’s therapy sessions to every other month. This was just one indication of how well the boy was progressing, and a clear sign that he was starting to integrate into a normal family environment.

The shared moment of quiet intimacy ended, as Buck noisily re-entered the room, now carrying the chattering JD in his arms. Chris nodded sparingly, smiling fleetingly as the other man raised questioning eyebrows.

The responsibility of bringing up two children on their own was the toughest job the ATF agents had ever had, but the emotional crisis with Vin had been resolved quite easily this time. Chris and Buck knew they were on a continuous learning curve, but neither man regretted the choices they’d made by adopting the two motherless and abandoned boys. Their lives were full and busy, but overflowing with laughter and the sunshine that only comes from the presence of growing children.

Ruffling Vin’s hair, and winking quickly at the thoughtfully silent ladies’ man, Chris eased Vin away from him a little. "Everything’s just fine. Now, it’s kind of early, Vin" he began, "so how about we snuggle in bed for a while? Then later we can have our breakfast at…"

"MacDonald’s!"

Chris grinned broadly as the two delighted children screamed out their preference, sending a silent ‘thank you’ to whoever was the brainchild behind the egg and bacon MacMuffin.

"MacDonald’s it is then," Chris chuckled, rocking and squeezing his son against him once more.

Buck let out a loud whoop and, hefting JD in his arms, he then elevated the giggling child high into the air and pirouetted around the room. The sight of the whirling pair immediately set Vin off, and very soon all four members of the family were laughing and shrieking with happiness.

The ranch house was once again filled with joyful ecstasy. The grey, dark days following the death of his beloved wife and son, had been eradicated by the precious offering Chris had found in the shape of the orphaned child. Although the young boy wasn’t of his flesh, the senior agent felt the same emotional attachment and fatherly love with Vin that he’d experienced with Adam.

There was completeness and a sense of well-being in his life again, and Chris knew the transformation had occurred on the day the adoption was finalised, and Vin Tanner officially became his son. The boy had been a victim of the times; bereft of any parent or kin, homeless and surviving on Denver’s dangerous streets by a combination of wits, sheer gritty determination and not a small amount of luck. Vin had finally found a secure home for both himself and JD, a place where they were loved, utterly cherished and protected from a harsh world.

It was a fairy tale ending for them all. Buck couldn’t be happier with the young dark-haired child who’d lassoed his heart like no woman had ever been able to. JD was the epicentre of the moustached agent’s life, and the deep, loving connection between the pair was a joy to behold.

Contentment also filled the widowed agent, and despairing grief and bitterness had been replaced by balance and hope in the space of less than a year. He’d found peace and inner fulfilment with his new family, and Chris was constantly humbled by the wondrous gift he’d been given.