Back Up Blues Interlude by Krystyna Lee

It was a Friday night and Team 7 was gathered around their regular table at The Saloon. It was a raucous, busy evening. The bar was filled with law enforcement personnel from the Denver area, most in a celebratory TGIF mood.

Team 4, Mike Miller’s team, had closed a big case and was in rare form. They were gathering around the stage area getting ready to participate in the current “big case closed successfully” tradition at The Saloon. Actually Team 7 had started the tradition when the song “Beer For My Horses” gained popularity on the radio.

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Flashback:

The lyrics were just too perfect:
Well a man come on the 6 o’clock news
Said somebody’s been shot, somebody’s been abused
Somebody blew up a building
Somebody stole a car
Somebody got away
Somebody didn’t get too far yeah
They didn’t get too far

Grandpappy told my pappy, back in my day, son
A man had to answer for the wicked that he done
Take all the rope in Texas
Find a tall oak tree, round up all of them bad boys
Hang them high in the street for all the people to see that

Justice is the one thing you should always find
You got to saddle up your boys
You got to draw a hard line
When the gun smoke settles we’ll sing a victory tune
We’ll all meet back at the local saloon
We’ll raise up our glasses against evil forces
Singing whiskey for my men, beer for my horses

We got too many gangsters doing dirty deeds
We’ve got too much corruption, too much crime in the streets
It’s time the long arm of the law put a few more in the ground
Send ’em all to their maker and he’ll settle ’em down
You can bet he’ll set ’em down ’cause

Justice is the one thing you should always find
You got to saddle up your boys
You got to draw a hard line
When the gun smoke settles we’ll sing a victory tune
We’ll all meet back at the local saloon
We’ll raise up our glasses against evil forces
Singing whiskey for my men, beer for my horses

Justice is the one thing you should always find
You got to saddle up your boys
You got to draw a hard line
When the gun smoke settles we’ll sing a victory tune
We’ll all meet back at the local saloon
We’ll raise up our glasses against evil forces
Singing whiskey for my men, beer for my horses

Actually Vin, JD and Buck spearheaded the effort with Ezra soon joining in. They had just closed a very long, stressful case and needed something to break the mood. So they arranged to borrow equipment the house band normally used for the next night, Friday.

They wanted to bring a couple of their horses in, but Inez flat out refused citing health department regulations. JD compromised by having life size posters of their seven horses at the corral fence made at the one hour photo place. He took it one step father by having the posters laminated before he hung them. Vin’s brain storm was the addition of water troughs at the base of the wall length poster. He was just lucky that Larabee didn’t notice them missing, at least not right away. Initially a couple of the guys were confused about what the troughs were for. Boy did they figure that out fast!

Then they recruited Samantha from Team 4, Vin’s on again, off again girl friend who could play the drums. Ezra could play the piano or electronic keyboard. JD and Vin dabbled on guitar.

That Friday night they played the song with gusto. Buck choreographed a line dance, dragging everyone in the place out of their seats to dance. The musicians sang their hearts out. Soon all The Saloon’s patrons were singing along with ‘the band’ covering up for their lack of professionalism and adding to the enthusiasm. And at the appropriate places when the verses called for the salute of “Beer For My Horses”, well, the laminated horses got the beer that mostly ended up in the water troughs.

Over time each team and even some of the specialized departments of Denver PD, took the song and made it their own for when they closed specially hard cases. It was unpredictable when the spectacle of “Beer For My Horses”, complete with special effects, would appear at The Saloon. One thing was sure though, when it happened it was a special happy time to be looked forward to. It was made even more unique by the same intelligence and creativity that made the agents and officers involved so good at drawing a hard line for justice. Team 4 hung bad guys in effigy at the appropriate verse; Kelly’s team rigged a smoke and sound show with caps; Team 2 juggled whiskey glasses; the list went on.

Inez was patient with it as long as they paid for the liquor, cleaned up their mess and no permanent damage was done. As a matter of fact it was helping her business. Word was getting around and people would stop by hoping to catch the free entertainment if there had been a big bust. Ezra had wagers going for how long it would take before their spectacle hit the tourist books. Of course if that happened they’d have to stop and start a new more discreet celebratory way of letting off stream.

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Back to Present:

Tonight Vin Tanner was seated to Chris Larabee’s right hand side as it should be. It was the first night he would be able to fully imbibe in his choice of alcoholic beverages and enjoy himself. No more narcotic pain killers. No more antibiotics. No more worries that the Texan was in imminent fear of loosing his leg or life.

Monday he would be back on limited desk duty part time. The portion of the day he was not at work would be spent at physical therapy regaining the muscle tone and full use of his leg. Tanner had been badly injured the same time Wilmington had been hurt to a lesser degree while the team was backing a Las Vegas ATF unit who had gone rogue and betrayed them.

It had been the worse kind of betrayal a law enforcement officer could do to another. Worse yet, the members of Vegas Team 3 played it out in a hot, harsh lonely desert far from help. It was plain their intention was to slaughter Team 7 and leave their bodies for the scavengers and the elements to dispose of before anyone was the wiser.

Larabee was still doing a slow burn over the whole situation. There had to be a reason they were targeted as opposed to another team. Unfortunately that went along with a whole list of other questions that still remained unanswered. Team 7 was actively putting together research against DiFortelli assuming that the rogue ATF members were now hooked up with his organization.

Buck was now back at work full time. As soon as they put together a few more pieces of the puzzle and Vin was back at work without restriction they would go after DiFortelli full force.

Right now though, Chris was just not happy. For weeks he had been distracted by being there for his best friend through his recovery and its ups and downs. During that time he maintained a façade of positive support. The widower had refused to allow the negative emotions to rise to the surface where they might affect Vin’s recovery. Now though, he had no such restrictions. Normally the antics of this newer tradition, or any of the other strange oddities or pranks, which happened at The Saloon, might be enough to help keep him on an even keel and help allay those feelings a little longer. But he had been pushing them down for much too long at this point.

He was in the mood to brood. Maybe even be a little aggravated over everything. Heck if nothing else this was Team 4. At least with his guys or Kelly’s they could carry a tune. Even the guys from DPD Vice lip synced to save everyone’s hearing. Team 4 had no such consideration and they couldn’t carry a tune to save their lives.

Face it Larabee, you just want to gripe over something. You want to get your teeth into this case and rid the world of the vermin that team 3 and DiFortelli are.

He continued staring in his beer, rolling the glass between his hands. I could have lost Vin. Maybe even Buck or the whole team. Still could if DiFortelli gets his way. I don’t even know who wants us or why. I can’t afford to loose someone like Vin again. That would be like loosing Sarah and Adam all over again. What do these bastards want from me?

Tanner was watching His friend very carefully; he could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Team 4 was partially through the first verse of their celebratory song. He looked up and smiled and the drummer. They shared a wink.

Vin then looked at Josiah and Ezra. Buck, Nathan, and JD were already up dancing. The three men exchanged a conspiratorial look. Josiah and Ezra slipped away from the table with their drinks and headed towards two ladies at the bar.

“Cowboy, you’re doing some heavy thing over there,” Vin interrupted his friend’s thoughts. “Come on. We’re here to forget our troubles tonight and enjoy our friendships. Have some fun. It’s time to lighten’ up.”

“I don’t know Vin; it’s been a long week.” Chris knew Vin would see right through his lie but he had to try.

While Tanner was trying to work his magic on the team leader another presence slid up to the table. Blackie from DPD Homicide had taken over on the drums on stage. The Texan looked up as he felt a friendly feminine touch on his body.

“Sammy, hey girl,” Vin welcomed their fellow off duty agent.

“Hey Vin. Want to dance? You look too good to just sit here,” she draped her arm over his shoulder and made herself comfortable.

“Is that so? Well Larabee, you gotta help me out here buddy. I’m still recovering and this is too much woman for me to handle all by my little lonesome,” Vin started to rise with Sam’s assistance, both of them reaching out to bring Chris up with them. “So come on out and dance with us cause I know I can’t do it on my own.”

Vin had a smile on his face that said the cat who ate the canary was here and he didn’t care. Sam’s smile was just as wide and they were not taking no for an answer. But they were taking prisoners. And they were going to make sure those prisoners were happy before the night was over.

Larabee gave some resistance. Vin had his right hand in their familiar warriors grasp. Sam had his left hand in a firm grasp. Both were trained agents used to man handling suspects larger then themselves. The bonus was that Chris had drank more than either of them. It did take more than a friendly struggle to get the man in black on the dance floor.

Once there a friendly roar went up from the other dancers to welcome the recalcitrant team leader to the action. In a few moments he relaxed and his kidnappers were able to let him go without Chris fleeing back to his seat. He finally smiled at Vin and Sam acknowledging that they were successful in their attempt to draw him into the fun for the evening.

They danced longed than was healthy for Vin but they had a great time doing it. Team 4 quickly finished with there hijacking of the PA and the good dance music came back. Vin and Sam, along with the rest of Team 7, kept Chris busy. They danced, they drank, they played some pool. Luckily they kept Chris’ demons from over taking him so the man in black didn’t get totally drunk, just mellow.

Tanner had stopped after one beer, basically because he was worried about his friend. When closing time rolled around he was sore from all the physical activity but sober. He knew he wasn’t up to driving all the way out to the ranch. Driving to his apartment in Purgatorio wouldn’t be a problem though.

Making sure all the other members of Team 7 and Samantha all had safe ways to get home, the Texan then turned his attention to the man he often felt was the other half of his soul.

“Time to go home Cowboy”

“Home?”

“Yep. Can I have the keys? I thought you could take a nap while I drive.”

“Sounds good Cowboy. I am kinda tired.” Chris handed over the Ram keys.

They got in and drove the short distance without incident. Pulling up in front of his apartment building Tanner had a rare moment of wishing he lived at the ranch. Not sure for a moment if it was for the friendship, peace and natural communion that the ranch meant or because he was about to have to drag a very mellow Larabee up eight flights of steps. Which ever one it was it didn’t matter because what he had was an apartment building with a faulty elevator not a wonderful scenic ranch.

And Vin Tanner was nothing if he was not a practical man. Yep, he had his dreams. What man didn’t? Of course right now his dreams seemed to center on getting back to fighting strength and taking down the scum that had threatened his family. But I, as Ezra would say digress. A Tanner wasn’t prone to flights of fancy. A Tanner knew life wasn’t fair.

In the long run it didn’t matter though. It didn’t even matter that he was about to under go intensive and painful physical therapy. It didn’t matter that at the end of that therapy he was going to have to requalify to prove himself again to keep his job. It didn’t even matter that after he did all that the first challenge he was going to come across was going to be taking down the rogue ex-team 3 and DiFortelli’s goons, who had taken them out in the first place.

Nope, the only thing that mattered was sitting next to him right now. His best friend, his boss, his soul mate. What ever Chris Larabee was the two of them were bonded to each other for life. He knew that as sure as he knew the sun would rise in the morning. As sure as he knew that if the need should arise he would defend Chris to the death and that Chris would do the same for him. And as far as Vin Tanner was concerned that was as good as life could get at the moment.

He opened the passenger door and slung Larabee’s arm over his shoulder. Trying to coach him awake and onto his feet. Taking most of his weight and control the sharpshooter started for his building with his important cargo.

Yep, life is definitely good. A whole lot better than I even thought I’d get a few years ago. Thank you to the spirits or God or whoever. I really am grateful.

THE END