If There's One Thing I Don't Need by Rita

Chris Larabee steeled himself for the fight of his life. His opponent was a completely unknown factor. He'd never faced anyone like this before and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry in anticipation of the coming battle. Clenching and unclenching his fists in a futile attempt to relax, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and pushed open the kitchen door to enter the arena.

Ana Maria Villanueva y de Ybarra stood all of five feet and one inch tall. She might have weighed one hundred pounds, soaking wet and carrying a load of laundry. Damm, the roast she was removing from the oven probably weighed half as much as she did! The roast... Aw, hell! The woman was only here for an interview and she had just made herself at home and started cooking and cleaning like she already had the job.

Job? Chris spun around to see if Vin Tanner had followed him into the kitchen to "talk" with Ana. This was all Vin's fault. All he'd done was to idly mention to Vin that he was thinking of hiring someone to come out to the ranch two or three times a week to clean the place up and Vin had taken it from there.

Chris had managed pretty well by himself but with Vin in residence a couple of nights a week and every weekend, the amount of dirty dishes and laundry had doubled. Neither man really minded picking up the place but neither wanted to waste their time together on household chores when they could be...

"Señor Larabee?"

Satisfied that Vin had followed him into the room, Chris turned again and nodded to the tiny woman who in the hour and a half she had been waiting for him to come home had completely cleaned the kitchen and apparently cooked enough food for a small army. Or two hungry men with thoughts to late-night refrigerator raids after...

"Chris?"

"Yeah, Vin. Uh, could you tell Ana that maybe we brought her all the way out here for nothing? I mean, would you explain that I hadn't really decided to hire..."

Chris's words trailed away as he looked around the room. Really looked. The place sparkled it was so clean. And the smell of the beef roast and whatever was in the pots on the stove simmering away, adding to the aroma almost drew him there to lift the lids and sample the contents. Almost. But not quite.

Ana smiled hopefully up at the tall, blonde man who was Señor Vin's boss. And his best friend, she added to steady herself. Señor Vin would not have brought her here to meet this man and maybe be employed to clean and cook for them if he had not thought that his boss would like her.

"Just tell her that we'll uh, that you'll let her know..."

Chris stopped again and examined his options here. The lady was looking at him as if he was some kind of judge and jury of her abilities -- and her future. And she was looking at "Señor Vin" as if he was a saint. Chris knew she was a legal resident and a woman of very good character. Vin had assured him of that. Living in Purgatorio aside, Vin recommended her as honest and hard working. Surely that was enough for him.

Knowing when he was whipped, Chris surrendered. With conditions. Ana would come to the ranch three times a week to clean, cook and generally take care of the place. The salary was agreed upon and a few likes and dislikes discussed and noted with the enthusiastic nodding of Ana's dark head. She was ecstatic and grinned happily even through Chris' s insistence that she was employed on a trial basis.

"Men," she mused looking over these two with joy at the thoughts of taking care of them. "Men always have to make it appear that they are in charge."

"Maybe ya oughta let me teach ya a little more Spanish?"

Vin was sprawled contentedly in a chair across the small breakfast table from Chris, grinning in delight at Chris's grumpy half-awake comments on an earlier misunderstanding with Ana. He had offered his "expert" instruction to his boss approximately half a dozen times a day since Chris had caved in and hired the housekeeper/cook/surrogate mother.

"I can speak Spanish."

Vin raised an eyebrow in further amusement at Chris's irritated agitation.

"Well, a little."

Chris straightened a bit in his chair preparing to defend himself from the attack he assumed was forthcoming from his best friend and chief tormentor.

"I don't reckon that graduatin' from Street Survival Spanish more 'n three years ago is gonna make ya able to let Ana know not to come in the bedroom 'cause you're naked."

"Aw, hell... "

Vin continued to laugh softly at the memory of Chris's acute embarrassment two days ago as he had struggled to get his snug jeans pulled on and Ana's chuckle of amusement at his predicament. Her parting remark as she deposited the stack of clean laundry on the dresser that Señor Chris had nothing to be ashamed of had sent Vin into a fit of laughter that left him helpless to fend off Chris's assault on his ticklish ribs. An all-out dawg fight as Buck called it had ensued and they had pretty much wrecked the master bedroom.

"What are you laughin' about, Tanner? She's probably seen your skinny white ass!"

"Probably. But it wasn't your ass she saw. And Ana's old enough to be my mother. Hell, Chris, she's old enough to be your mother!"

Before Chris could retaliate for Vin's further taunting about the earlier incident that had left the normally unflappable man blushing all over and yet another age remark, the object of Chris's irritation approached the table bearing two heaping plates of Huevos Ana as Vin had christened his favorite breakfast fare.

Ana placed the steaming plates of food in front of each man and smiled at Vin when he thanked her profusely in Spanish and set to with knife and fork as though he hadn't eaten in days. She paused until Chris had also begun to eat before nodding her approval and returning to whatever she had simmering on the stove for later.

"Dammit, Vin! She's been comin' here for what? Two weeks? And she's fuckin' taken over the ranch. Hell, I almost have to ask her permission to take a..."

Chris stopped abruptly in mid-tirade at the look on Vin's face warning him of Ana's reappearance bearing a tray with a covered plate of tortillas to accompany the tender steak, eggs and a pot of her special coffee.

Chris covered his confusion with a look of deep gratitude and took the coffeepot and cups eagerly. Whatever else Ana might have done or continue to do to set him off, the woman was a magician when it came to producing coffee that was just strong enough to suit him but still retain a rich flavor and a caffeine kick guaranteed to wake him up no matter how little sleep he'd gotten.

Chris poured the coffee for himself and Vin and took a sip under Ana's watchful eye.

"Gracias, Ana. Café delicioso."

"Usted es agradable, Señor Chris. Ahora coma su desayuno."

Vin's mouth gaped open in astonishment at the cordial and, for Chris, quite competent exchange of compliment and acknowledgment. Luckily he had swallowed the large bite of spicy eggs he'd been working on or the view from Chris's side of the table would have been less than attractive.

"You might wanta shut your mouth, Vin."

"But... you can't... I mean, you don't... when did you..."

Ana smiled at Vin's amazed confusion and patted Chris on his shoulder before uncovering the tortillas and making sure Chris got the freshest ones from the top of the stack. She took the empty tray and returned to the kitchen smiling at the banter between her boys.

It suddenly dawned on Vin, who prided himself on pulling elaborate practical jokes at the office and keeping Chris's private life on an uneven keel that he might just have met his match in the sweet little lady who had apparently been tutoring Chris on the sly.

Shrugging in apparent disinterest and returning to his heaping plate, he began to examine possible means of reprisal.

After all, Halloween was only a couple of weeks away.

Two Weeks Later

"But, its only once a year!"

"NO!"

"Aw, Chris..."

"No, Vin. I will NOT wear a "costume" of any kind and I sure as hell won't wear whatever you've picked out."

"But Chris, I drove all the way to the other side of town to find this one. None of the other rental places even had it. And it's... perfect for you."

"Vin..."

It was only a single word, but it carried all the authority that Chris Larabee could intone. And the word also contained a threat. Accompanied by the "Larabee Glare", it would have stopped anyone else. Anyone but Vin Tanner.

Vin knew he was losing the battle, but he still had one final shot left.

"It ain't for me, Chris. It's for the kids."

That volley, fired just as Chris was preparing to storm out of the room, stopped him cold. He'd met a few of the kids that were going to be at the Halloween party Vin and the rest of the team had organized. All of them were from the poorest neighborhoods in Denver and the party was intended not only as a place to keep them out of trouble, but also as a haven of safety on a night which usually brought trouble in the form of the gangs that ruled the streets.

Ana chose that particular moment to venture into the den in curiosity at the agitated tones of her boys that she had heard all the way into the kitchen. She took one look at the two boxes from the costume shop and a delighted grin brightened her features as she realized what was going on.

"¿Va usted al partido para los niños, usted no es? Mi nieto ha sido tan emocionó que él es hablado acerca de lo por días."

Even though Chris was learning a few words of Spanish every day from Ana, he couldn't follow the excited rapid-fire exclamation, so he raised an eyebrow at Vin and waited for an explanation.

After Vin's translation, Chris knew there was no way he could disappoint Ana's little grandson. She had brought the boy with her one day when his mother was at work and the usual baby-sitter had a doctor's appointment.

His first reaction to the boy's presence had been irritation. Semi-annual reports were due and he'd brought all the paperwork home to finish. Home to his office off the den where it was bound to be quieter than Team Seven's domain. Buck and J. D. had been engaged in a running spitball fight, Josiah and Nathan were involved in a heated discussion about some obscure philosophical point. Ezra was pontificating his requirements for Italian silk shirts and ties on the telephone -- undoubtedly long distance -- and Vin was apparently attempting to break his old record for consumption of junk food and sodas. Said consumption involved noisily ripping open cellophane packs and the crunching of the contents with gusto.

The boy couldn't have been more than four years old, but he sat quietly at the kitchen table while his grandmother worked. Ana had brought coloring books and crayons and he laboriously filled in the pictures with all the quiet intensity of a much older child.

After Ana's quick apologetic explanation of his presence, and an introduction along with the assurance that Chris wouldn't even know he was there, Manuel returned to his task.

Chris had finished his contributions to the reports with ease once he could concentrate. He pushed back his chair from the computer with a contented sigh. He hadn't bothered to change clothes yet, so his next stop was the bedroom to pull on jeans, boots and old tee shirt.

When he wandered into the kitchen, Ana was occupied with the laundry and Manuel was still carefully coloring between the lines. On a hunch that the boy might be bored, he asked Ana if he could take him out to the barn to see the horses.

Ana had agreed reluctantly, thinking that Senor Larabee didn't really want to be bothered but she saw the gleam in the child's eyes when Chris invited him to come along. After an hour had passed and two loads of laundry had been washed, dried and folded, Ana peered out the back door to see what had become of the two.

She was both shocked and pleased to see Manuel perched precariously on Chris's horse while Chris led him around the corral. The child was ecstatic and Chris returned his shy smile of pleasure with a genuine grin at the boy's excitement to be astride the magnificent animal.

Manuel had found a new friend.

Chris took the box that Vin indicated with barely concealed irritation at the events. Mumbling under his breath about not fighting fair and being ganged up on, he went to the bedroom to see just how bad this was going to be.

The Halloween Party at the YMCA was a huge success. More than thirty children played games and helped themselves to the treats that were heaped on tables at one side of the room. A portable stereo throbbed with the latest music and a few of the kids danced. Some were involved in board games and there was a large group around Ezra, robed and crowned as King Arthur, while he performed card tricks and sleight of hand.

Nathan and Josiah watched from two comfortable chairs, costumed as Hawkeye and Trapper John from M*A*S*H. J. D. had chosen a get-up that he explained was intended to be a mad scientist, but looked more like a clown. And Buck, to no one's surprise, appeared as Don Juan.

Vin had been accused by everyone present of not even bothering to wear a costume. Everything he wore belonged to him---jeans, boots, western-style shirt, bandanna, and hat---except for the holster and plastic six-gun he'd strapped on and tied down.

Vin and Chris were leaning against the wall, quietly enjoying the children's amazed exclamations when Ezra extracted a card from a little girl's long hair.

"You know you ain't gettin' away with this one, Tanner."

Vin feigned surprise and confusion at Chris's low threatening growl.

"Cut the act, Vin. You're gonna pay. I don't know when and I don't know how, but you're gonna pay."

"But Chris, everybody loves the costume. And it is all black."

"Not another word. Or I just might use this whip on you right now."

Chris pushed himself away from the wall and stalked off in disgust. Vin was going to regret getting him into this costume. He stopped short as Vin laughingly called out to him across the room before running for his life.

"Senor Zorro?"

"You're gonna pay."

Chris Larabee's words echoed through the center aisle of the barn causing Vin Tanner considerably more discomfort than the ropes that bound his wrists above his head. He was tied facing forward against one of the support posts running down the sides of the structure, his back to his partner's intimidating promise of what was to come.

It had been more than a week since the Halloween party. Chris had given Vin enough time to think that he'd gotten over the Zorro thing as Team Seven had been referring to it. The ribbing that Chris had endured at the office had been unmerciful and Vin had sat gleefully through it all. He knew that Chris wasn't really angry, but he also knew that there would be a payback.

The Bennelli case had occupied the team's attention the latter part of the week, however, and when Chris had asked Vin if he wanted to go out for dinner on Friday night or if he would rather just delve into the seemingly endless supply of food that Ana always left the two for the weekend, Vin had let his guard down and opted for dinner at the ranch. And now... well, now he regretted that decision.

Chris had remarked that he'd walk out to check the horses before they ate and when Vin said he'd go with him, Chris had casually shrugged as if he didn't care one way or another. Vin had only taken a couple of steps into the barn when Chris had rushed him, pushing him against the wooden post and pulling his arms up into the loops of the rope that was already prepared. All he had to do was tighten the noose.

That had been about ten minutes ago and after Vin had struggled a bit, he realized that the only way to get loose was when... or 'if' Chris released him. Ten long minutes of listening to Chris moving around behind him making suspicious... and unnerving noises.

"Remember this?"

Chris had finally moved into Vin's limited field of vision and if Vin had been nervous before he was a little scared now. Chris was holding a whip.

It wasn't the whip that Chris had reluctantly attached to the belt of the Zorro costume either. It couldn't be! Vin had made sure that particular item had been returned along with the rest of the paraphernalia Chris had grudgingly worn to the Halloween party. This was an old, worn stock whip that Vin had noted hanging on a nail near the back of the tack room. The last time he'd glanced at it when he'd gone in to get a bottle of liniment for Peso, it had been festooned with spider webs and coated with dust.

Now the coils of leather glistened with a recent application of saddle soap and oil and Vin looked from the whip into the unreadable face of his lover with apprehension.

"You wouldn't... would you?"

Damm! He hadn't meant for that to come out quite as high-pitched as it had.

"Wouldn't I?"

"Uh, no..."

"We'll see, won't we?"

Chris stepped behind Vin and slowly began to tug Vin's shirt out of the worn Levi's the younger man had changed to as soon as he'd gotten to the ranch. The shirt he'd pulled on was an old one, thin from being laundered repeatedly and Chris found a small tear in the hem. He jerked on the shirt and it ripped all the way to the collar.

The cool November air coming through the open barn door played across Vin's exposed back and he shivered. He heard Chris's boots moving through the straw on the floor as he stepped farther away.

"Haven't used this in a while, Vin. Haven't needed to use it in a while. Guess I'd better practice a little first."

"Dammit, Chris..."

Vin was cut short when he heard the whip uncoiled and the loud crack as Chris snapped it behind him. He seriously considered never, ever pulling a practical joke on the other man again... if he could just get out of this more or less intact.

"You ready, Vin?"

There was no verbal reply to the question, and Chris hadn't expected one. Vin sensed that Chris had moved closer and was drawing the whip back for a strike. When the first snap was executed flawlessly, Vin gasped. The second one had him trying yet again to twist his hands free of the rope. It wasn't until Chris had used the lash a third time that Vin realized he wasn't hurt.

The curses that filled the air would have made a drunken sailor proud. Vin finally wound down after he'd called Chris every foul name he could remember and some he made up on the spur of the moment. As the litany of profanity died to a pathetic mumble, Vin heard Chris laughing at his outrage and he started again.

"Let me loose, Larabee! Now!"

"I don't know, Tanner. If J.D. were here, he'd call this a Kodak moment. Maybe I should get the camera?"

Neither man had heard the old pick-up truck pull up the driveway a few minutes before. Nor had they heard Ana knock at the back door repeatedly, then finally go inside to retrieve the keys to her apartment that she'd left behind after finishing her Friday ritual of furiously cleaning and cooking for her 'boys'.

After calling out for Senor Chris and Senor Vin repeatedly and checking each room, Ana began to worry. Both the big black truck and the dilapidated Jeep were in the driveway. The men had obviously been inside the house and changed clothes because they had left things strewn all over the otherwise spotless dwelling.

Glancing outside, Ana noticed that one side of the large barn doors was open. She called out to the young neighbor who had driven her to the ranch that she would only be another minute and made her way down the well-worn path to the building where, she assumed, the two men were feeding the horses.

Her gasp of surprise and dismay was quickly followed by a barrage of angry Spanish that even Vin couldn't follow. Vin tried to turn his head as soon as he heard Ana berating Chris unmercifully, but he still couldn't move freely. A wicked grin appeared slowly as he realized that even though Chris had paid him back by making him believe that he was actually going to use the whip, what Ana would do to Chris would be more than sufficient punishment.

Finally, Ana's speech slowed enough for Vin to understand part of what she was yelling at Senor Chris and his grin widened even further but he chose to let her tear the older man apart a bit at a time.

"¿Qué en el nombre de Dios hace usted al Señor Vin? ¿Usted está loco?"

Chris finally picked out enough words from her fervent speech to understand that she thought he was insane. Throwing the whip aside, he hurried over to cut Vin loose and try to persuade him to call Ana off and explain that it was just an elaborate joke.

To his surprise, Vin slumped to the floor when his pocketknife parted the braided strands that had held him. And Ana went back into full-blown mother hen with an endangered chick mode.

Chris knew that Vin was faking. The ropes had merely held him immobile and after years of experience with horses, all Chris had done was snap the stock whip just before it would have connected with Vin's back. The lash had merely wrapped around Vin and fallen harmlessly away. But Ana didn't know that and that son-of-a-bitch Tanner wasn't about to tell her.

The next half-hour was one of the worst of Chris Larabee's life. Ana tore into him relentlessly and Vin played possum through the whole tirade. Finally, even Vin's composure gave away and more in sympathy for Chris than in repentance, he stood and gathered Ana in his arms.

It took Vin another twenty minutes to explain what had happened and why and that Chris wouldn't hurt him intentionally, nor would he hurt Chris.

Ana was almost crying in relief by the time he had assured her that she just happened to walk in at the wrong time. Slowly she straightened and drew away from Vin's arms. Walking over to the corner where Chris had flung the offending object, Ana retrieved the whip and using it to emphasize her parting shot, she solemnly intoned one final sentence very slowly and then turned and stalked back to the truck and the young man waiting to drive her home.

"Damm you, Tanner! If you'd spoken up right away, she wouldn't have gotten so upset!"

"Yep, but I would have missed the show. Chris Larabee, all six feet two inches of him cowering in terror of that little bitty lady."

"Aw, hell! What if she tells someone? And what the hell was the last thing she said before she left?"

Vin quoted Ana's Spanish perfectly: "¡Si cualquiera de usted hace jamás algo estúpido como este otra vez, yo usaré este latigo en ustedes dos!"

"I figured out the stupid part, Vin, what was the rest of it?"

Vin knew he should tell Chris the truth, but he just couldn't resist adding to his former tormentor's misery so he translated a bit uh, liberally.

"She said that if you ever pulled a stunt like that again, it would be you that'd be on the receiving end of that stock whip, Chris."

"Aw, hell!"

Chris hung his head for a moment, then began looking around the barn. He kicked aside the straw where they'd been standing then examined the area between the post and the still-open door.

"You might wanta be a little careful for a while, Senor Chris, cause Ana took that whip with her."

Vin shrugged out of what was left of his shirt and headed for the door nonchalantly calling over his shoulder as he walked, "You'd better get your chores finished so you can have dinner. You do know what happens when you're a bad boy, don't you?"

Too stunned to react for a moment, Vin had quite a head start before Chris ran after him and Vin made it all the way into the bedroom before Chris grabbed his arm and spun him around into what felt more like a tactical police hold than a hug.

"This is all your fault, Vin! I'll admit that I started it but you led her on until she worked herself up into a fit like I've never seen or heard before."

"Yeah, Chris, you mighta started it... but Ana sure finished it... and she finished you real good too."

"Now what am I gonna do to make it up to her for scaring her so bad?"

"Ball's in your court, Larabee. I'm fixin' to eat some of Ana's fine cookin' and sit in front of the big screen TV. Reckon you'd better see to your chores or I just might have to tattle on you."

"Tanner..."

Neither the growl nor the glare bothered Vin. He figured that he could intimidate Chris for quite a while over this one until he figured out that the threat had been aimed at both of them. And while Chris sullenly returned to the barn to do the work that they usually shared, Vin pulled open the refrigerator door and grinned at the overflowing casseroles and bowls, some still moist from the steam of their recent arrival.

Life was good for Vin Tanner. For now...

THE END