Mary's hands snapped up to cover her mouth.

Chris spun around and strode....jogged....broke into a run yelling, "Get the boys!" Before he got half way to the livery, he spotted two familiar figures approaching town. Billy was talking away, Vin nodding attentively. The tracker reached out and adjusted the boy's hands on his reins.

"Like that, Billy. Give you better control," Vin explained.

"Thank, God," Mary whispered, walking up to stand beside the Seven's leader.

Chris allowed the relief he felt to flow through his veins. Unfortunately, the relief quickly turned to anger. The gunfighter stood glowering at his independent friend as he and Billy Travis dismounted at the top of town, too engrossed in discussing the six fish they had caught to notice Mary or Chris.

"You go on and let Nathan know we're back," Chris heard Vin say. "I'll bring our gear and the fish."

Billy nodded and turned. "Hey, Chris you're back!" the child squealed, racing toward the gunfighter. Chris forced a smile. The child could sense his hero's anger and so decided that it would be better to be elsewhere. He liked Chris a lot, but Chris mad was not pleasant.

Once the child disappeared, the gunfighter's face flashed with rage. "Where the hell have you been?" Chris growled loudly.

Vin turned, his eyes darkening with irritation. Without a word, the tracker dumped his fishing gear on the ground and stalked up to the older man. "Now hold on a minute there, Cowboy. You and me gotta talk," Vin stated firmly, waving the fish he still held under Larabee's nose. The young tracker's face lacked any anger, but Chris could sense his friend's annoyance - no, a lot more than annoyance.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. About the way you keep talkin' to me." Vin glanced at Mary. He would have preferred to have this conversation in private, but now was the time, whether anyone else was around or not. "On the way to Milton, I was too damn sick to argue with ya, so I just let ya have your way. I ain't sick no more. You’ve been treatin' me like I’m some damn kid. That's gonna stop right now." There had been so many times on the trip to pick up the prisoners that Vin had wanted to tell Chris to back off. Like when he had made him ride in the middle of the pack so that the phantom bounty hunters couldn’t ‘get him’. And when he had actually said, "How many times have I got to tell you", and the ridiculous two finger test on the trail back to Four Corners. Vin’s blood had been at boiling point several times, but he had been so damn sick and weak, it had been easier just to let Larabee have his way. No, not easier. Vin had tried to hang on to his independence. Hell, he had consciously battled to do so, but it had slipped away from him. And when he had realized that it was happening, he had fought all the harder to keep it. Finally, once the group had reached Milton, Vin knew that he wasn't going to be able to maintain control. And so he had submitted to his inability to govern his own destiny, relinquishing his autonomy to Chris, and to the other boys, but mostly to Chris. Vin had made the conscious judgment to place his life in Chris' hands. Now, however, he was ready to take back his independence....something he valued almost as much as his freedom.

"I ain’t J.D. I don’t need no damn nursemaidin'. And for that matter, neither does he. So I’m givin' ya fair warnin'. Back off. If ya keep talkin' to me like I'm a kid, I’m gonna to have to thrash ya. Got it?"

Chris stared at the serious man standing directly in front of him and reflected on the words. Yes, on the way to Milton and on the way back to Four Corners for that matter, Vin had backed down very easily on a lot of issues he normally wouldn’t have. That was what had alerted Chris to the fact that his friend was sick in the first place.

"You hear what I’m sayin’, Larabee?" The fish that Vin held was still waving directly under the gunfighter’s nose.

"I hear you. But if you don’t shift that fish I’m going take it and shove it...." Chris stopped and glanced at Mary. He’d forgotten she was there.

Vin grinned in triumph. "Shove it where, Cowboy? In my saddlebags for me? That’s real nice of ya. Maybe you could clean if for me while you’re at it?"

"You’re pushing me!" But Chris was smiling too. Vin appeared to be back to normal. Healthy, stubborn and... what was the right phrase... a down right smart ass when he wanted to be. The gunfighter realized that he should have trusted Vin’s judgement. The tracker would never endanger the life of Billy Travis. That meant that he was convinced that he was more than capable of ensuring the child's safety.

The two men studied each other intently and Chris knew with absolute certainty, that his need to 'protect' Vin had passed. His best friend wasn’t fully recovered, probably wouldn’t be for some time, but he was well enough to take responsibility for himself again, something Chris had stepped in and gradually taken over on their recent trip. He knew that Vin appreciated it. Vin had needed him to do what he had, even if the stubborn fool hadn't realized it, at first. Now, however, well now, it was time for them to go back to being equals for it was that, along with the trust and respect that they shared, that was the basis of their friendship.

Chris watched Mary leave and noted that Vin was beginning to relax, the fish dropping from under the older man's nose. Theirs was a very simple, yet complex friendship the gunfighter recognized. The other men took orders from him because they simply accepted him as their leader and because Chris could be very insistent. Vin, on the other hand, listened to the gunfighter's ‘suggestions’ because he respected Chris' opinion, but if the young tracker ever disagreed, he was always quick to say so and to tell his 'leader' where to shove his ‘orders’. Unlike the relationship Buck shared with J.D., where the elder played surrogate ‘older’ brother, Chris had never considered such a relationship with Vin. Vin was young, but the most competent, sensible, independent, pigheaded, stubborn man Chris had ever met. No, treating Vin as if he were an inexperienced kid, or trying to give him orders had never been an option. Stepping in and taking control when Vin had been too ill to make realistic choices, that had been necessary and Chris would do it again, if the situation ever arose. Hell, he knew Vin would do exactly the same thing if the shoe were on the other foot. Now though, it was time to return the precious treasure Vin had allowed him the privilege of minding. Vin was asking, demanding the return of his independence.

It’s good to have you back. Chris smiled.

Thanks, Cowboy. Vin returned in a silent message that summed up everything he was feeling. The last two weeks had been far from easy, but they had forced him to concede that he was no longer alone. There were a couple of phrases that kept replaying over and over again in his mind. This isn't your fight, Vin. It's ‘our’ fight........Ezra and Nathan are here to take up the fight with you now....hang on, Vin, we'll get through this together.

Chris could see Vin's mind ticking over. He didn't know what his best friend was thinking but ... all of the sudden Vin grinned. His attention seemed to be focused on something over Chris' right shoulder. Without a word, the young tracker shot Chris a look that contained a challenge that the gunfighter well and truly understood. The tracker dropped the fish he was holding and took off up the street as if the hounds of hell were after him. Instantly, Chris turned in hot pursuit. The latter spotted the small white object that Vin was heading for. Vin dived and scooped up the mushroom a split second before Chris’ hand would have closed around it. The younger man leaped to his feet thrusting his hands into the air in his own private victory celebration in the middle of the empty street.

"Doesn't count," Chris claimed, offering his hand and waiting for his ecstatic opponent to pull him to his feet.

"Why the hell not?!" Vin demanded, roughly shoving Chris’ hand away.

"I wasn't ready," the gunfighter snarled, climbing to his feet unassisted.

On the veranda of the saloon, the rest of the Seven stood watching their usually serious leader and quiet tracker.

As the two had dived into the dust, J.D. had stepped forward and gasped. "What the hell are they doin’?

"They are participating in an ancient sacred ritual," Ezra explained solemnly. J.D. turned to face the gambler. "I have heard that in some cultures the people stand chest to chest, only a breath apart and then they weave the arms around the torso of the one that they are facing." J.D.’s eyes widened. "In other civilizations the inhabitants press the lips against a specific part of the face," Ezra continued soberly. J.D. was shaking his head in amazement. He’d never heard of such things. "Still other societies thrust the right hand at another, weave the fingers and palms and bounce the hands once, twice, thrice." J.D. glanced down at his own palms bewildered.

Buck glanced at the boy and snorted. "Relax, Kid. He’s talkin’ about hugging....

"Kissing...." Josiah added.

"....And shaking hands," Nathan finished.

"What?"!"

"Yes, my dear, Mr. Dunne. Many ways of communicating the same message. Friendship, respect, affection. But men like them," Ezra continued, inclining his head toward Chris and Vin, "find it difficult to show their feelings and so they say it with mushrooms, my friends. They say it with mushrooms." The other men eyed Ezra and began to nod. Quietly the five returned to the saloon. What was taking place in the empty streets of Four Corners was something that did not require, nor deserve an audience.

"YOU weren’t ready?! You still ran," Vin argued.

"Doesn’t make any difference. It doesn’t count," Chris countered.

"Says who? You?!"

"Can’t be a fair bet if you don’t tell me that ..."

"CHRIS LARABEE!!" a voice thundered from the top of town. Both Vin and Chris turned. There stood two men. One with a black eye patch, the other with a thick bushy beard and eight stitches in his face. Both gunfighters, not bounty hunters. They constituted Laura Badden’s back up plan. Larry and Morgan Curry had been told to wait until they received word from Andrew Badden before going after Larabee, but the lure of $500 had been too much for them and so they had decided to set off after their prey and ensure that the money was theirs. Thus they had trekked all the way to Milton, over to Tentafield and then back to Four Corners.

Chris’ eyes narrowed. Using his left hand, he attempted to push Vin to the side and out of harm’s way. But the tracker refused to budge. Instinctively, the gunfighter began to move to the right. To draw the attention of the two men threatening him - to draw them away from his... ‘brother’.

"What do you want?" Chris growled.

"We have been offered $500 if we kill you."

"By whom?"

"A soldier."

Badden, Chris realized immediately. "Private Badden’s dead," Chris grilled, stopping in the middle of the street.

Morgan Curry’s face darkened.

"He’s dead so you haven’t got any way of collecting your money. Get on your horses and ride out of here," Vin shouted.

"Vin," Chris warned. The gunfighter watched as the Curry brothers separated and began to move apart. What were they doing? Once the men were at least twenty feet from each other, they stopped.

"You ready, Larabee?"

"Both of you at once?" Vin demanded. Chris could outdraw two men standing that far apart. Vin had seen him do it before - two men in a saloon, not two professional gunfighters.

"Get off the street," Chris ordered. Vin stood his ground for a moment and then walked toward the side as instructed. Chris exhaled slowly. He had thought that he was going to have to fight Vin. When the tracker made it to the porch, he drew his mare’s leg and held it loosely in his arms.

"One at a time," Vin yelled at the Curry brothers. "Chris will take you one at a time. The code dictates the rules. Which one of you is going to go first?"

"Butt out stink weed, or we’ll kill you once we’ve finished with Larabee."

"Vin!" Chris grilled.

"This ain’t a gunfight," Vin announced. He hadn’t ever understood that there was a very explicit code that gunfighters lived and died by until he had met Larabee. A gunfight constituted two men, both able to hold a gun. The fact that there were three men involved in this, meant that this was not a gunfight. It was a shoot out. Therefore, the code did not apply.

"Whenever you’re ready, Larabee," Morgan shouted.

Larry drew. Chris whipped his gun out and fired. The gunfighter with the eye patch fell. Chris started to swivel, when there was a second shot. Larabee waited for the familiar burning, searing pain of impact when the bullet would rip through his flesh. But it didn’t. The second gunfighter started to topple. Chris snapped his head around to Vin. The tracker’s rifle was smoking. The rest of the Seven poured out into the street.

"Shit!" J.D. muttered.

"That’s them. That’s the two men that left this morning," Nathan informed his leader.

"Looks like they came back," Buck muttered.

"They’re gunfighters," Josiah stated.

"No," Vin disagreed. "A gunfighter follows the code. They didn’t. That makes them scum."

"Get them out of here," Chris snarled. J.D. glanced at his leader and could see that Chris was not happy. Quickly, he, Josiah, Buck, Ezra and Nathan collected the corpses and retreated.

"It was my fight," Larabee grilled at Vin, who was reholstering his gun.

"I was hoping you were gonna say that, Cowboy."

"Vin....."

"No, it wasn’t your fight," Vin snarled. Chris’ eyes clouded with suspicion. Okay, so it wasn’t a true gunfight. That was true. The tracker glared at his older friend.

"What the hell do you mean that it wasn’t my fight?" Chris demanded.

"Three months ago, it might have been your fight. Now, every fight is our fight."

Chris’ face relaxed immediately. A smile presented itself on his lips and he nodded. "Our fight," he agreed. Without a word, the two men’s hands locked together in a full arm shake. Yes, theirs was a very simple but complex friendship.

Abruptly, Chris’s eyes narrowed. "Double or nothing!" With that, he shoved Vin roughly out of the way, turned and raced off to the left to retrieve the small white mushroom he had just spotted.

Vin lunged after him, his loud curse filling the air. "You cheatin’ sonofabitch!! Awww Helllllllll!"

THE END

Return to "Say It With Mushrooms" index

---

I'd love to know what you thought.
You can drop me a note here.

© August 2000 Aussie Lass. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to the owners of “The Magnificent Seven” and I thank them sincerely for turning a blind eye so I can borrow them. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.