“No.”

“But, Chris…”

“No.”

The colonel calmly continued to tidy his desk without looking up at his Lieutenant.

“Look, will you just give me a chance to…”

“No.” There was no emotion in Larabee’s voice. It was a simple statement. No, he wasn’t going to give Vin a chance.

“Damn it, Chris. Let me…”

“No.” Satisfied that everything was replaced where it should be, Chris returned his attention to his best friend who was perched atop a set of crutches. “No.

“God, damn it, I…”

“No.”

Tanner’s anger and frustration reddened in his cheeks. They had been having this ‘discussion’ for almost four hours and Larabee wouldn’t listen… wouldn’t even let him finish!

Chris smirked at his small victory. He had no intention of listening to Vin’s reasoning on this matter for the simple reason Vin had a habit of ‘getting around him’ to coin one of Buck’s phrases. So the colonel had decided not to give Tanner the opportunity to squirm out this… or, more correctly, squirm his way into the mission this afternoon.

“You need cover from that roof. You know it and I know it,” Vin insisted.

Chris shrugged.

“So you agree!” Triumph raged from the sharpshooter’s eyes. “You need me to cover you!”

“No.”

Vin threw his arms up in exasperation which caused his crutches to fall to the floor, clipping a file on his leader’s desk and causing it to spill onto the carpet.

The colonel shook his head. “Finished?”

“Chris, you need me on that roof,” Vin growled, the lines of irritation entrenched deeply around his expressive blue eyes.

“I need someone who can walk.”

“No, you need someone who can…”

“No,” Chris cut him off, realizing he had created the smallest of openings for Vin.

Tanner took a single hobbled step forward. Chris’ left eyebrow rose to make his point. Vin slammed his fist down in the middle of the desk. “I’m going.”

“No,” Chris stated simply as he rose from his chair and walked around the desk. He glanced down at Vin’s badly bruised and swollen ankle and winced.

Yesterday, when the boys had been playing a ‘friendly’ game of basketball in the gym, Tanner and Wilmington had collided and Vin had ended up under his larger friend. A howl of agony was ripped from the sharpshooter that sent Buck scurrying to the side and Vin to his feet, assurances flowing from his mouth at the speed of light. However, within minutes the ankle had doubled in size and Nathan had diagnosed a torn ligament.

Larabee picked up Tanner’s crutches, handed them to him and headed out of the door, Vin hot on his heels.

“LARABEE!”

“No.”

“%^^%$! Will you give me the chance to speak?!”

Chris paused, sighed and shook his head. “No. Vin, no matter what you’ve got in mind, the answer is no. You can’t walk. The answer is, and will always be, no.” With that, Chris continued on his way toward the gymnasium to work out.

Ezra and J.D., the only other occupants of the office, watched Larabee go and then turned their attention to Vin who was cursing quietly under his breath.

“It would appear that is the last of it, my friend.”

“It ain’t over until the fat lady sings,” Tanner growled, following Chris. “And she ain’t even warmed up yet. LARABEE, you stubborn, pigheaded, son-of-a-bitch…”

J.D. shook his head as Vin disappeared. “You reckon he has a chance of convincing Chris this time?”

“… But, Chris…”

Ezra grinned. “I do believe the opera is over.”

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© Feb 2005 Brigitta B. : 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.