FIC: Western Lovers: Cowboys & Archeaologists (6/30)

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

Title: Western Lovers: Cowboys and Archeaologists 6/30
Author: sassywitch
Pairing: BB/DM with a smattering of VM/LT and DW/OB
Rating: NC-17, to be on the safe side.
Summary: Billy is a man to be reckoned with. Can Dom heal his wounded soul and his own into the bargain. Could Billy make him forget the bitter lessons of the past?
Feedback: Feedback is my writers crack, which is not to be confused at all with plumbers crack.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. These men whilst adorable and perfectly happy to slash themselves, their actual relationship is something that they only know. This story is adapted from a series of books that I adored when I was younger written by Elizabeth Lowell.
Word Count: 2978
Header Art: Courtesy of the incredibly talented loki_girl
Previous Chapters: can be found Here
A/N: A huge thank you to dylan_dufresne for the inspiration, the prodding and the beta. My grammar sucks so she had to suffer it so nobody else would. Next Chapter will be posted on Wednesday.

There was some water running in Arwen Wash, but the big ranch truck crossed without difficulty. Splash marks on the other side of the ford told Billy that he wasn't the only person who had driven toward Arwen Canyon today. Billy quickly glanced around, but saw nothing. They had passed no one the entire length of the one-lane dirt road, which meant that the other vehicle was still in front of them.

Frowning, Billy turned right and drove along the edge of the broad wash. There was no real road to follow, simply a suggestion of tire tracks where other vehicles had gone before. Tributary canyons opened up on the left of the wash, and more were visible across the thin, ribbon of water, but Billy made no attempt to explore those openings. After three miles, he turned left into the mouth of a side canyon.

Dom looked at him questioningly.

"Arwen Canyon," Billy said. "The mesa it's eaten out of didn't really have a name, but we've started calling it Arwen Mesa since we've been working on the site. Aragorn Mesa is behind us now, across the wash."

"What's upstream?"

"More canyons. Smaller, and if you follow the wash upstream long enough, it finally narrows into a crack and disappears into a wall of stone, which is the body of the mesa itself. Other than that, the canyons are a maze. Even with a compass, it's hard not to get lost."
Dom turned around, trying to orient himself. "Where is the Double L?"

Billy gestured with his head because he needed both hands on the wheel. "North and east on top of the big mesa."

"It is? I thought the ranch was on the edge of a broad valley."

Billy smiled slightly. "So do most peopled who come on the Double L from the north. You don't know that the valley is really a mesa until you drive off the edge. The mountains confuse you. All of the Colorado Plateau is like that."

Dom reached into his back jeans pocket, pulled out a US geological survey map and began searching for the vague line that represented the ranch road they were on(, but the bouncing of the truck made map reading impossible.

"Perspective is a funny thing," Billy said, glancing at the map for an instant. "Coming in from the south and east, you see the wall of the mesa, the cliffs and the gorges and canyons. That's where the explorers were then they started naming things, at the bottom, looking up. You can't see the Fire Mountains from that angle, and everything looks dark and jumbled at a distance, so the whole area was once called Black Plateau or Fire Mountain plateau, depending on which old timer you talk to."

Dom folded the map and put it away.

"On the other hand, " Billy continued, "If you're coming in from the mountain end of the territory, you see a mesa top as more of a broad valley, and you name it accordingly."

"Is that what happened on the Double L?"

Billy nodded. "Viggos' father started out with a ranch at the bottom of what became known as Mortensen Ridge, which is a foothill of the Fire mountains. From his perspective, the mesa top is a broad, winding valley, but history named the hunk of land for a hundred miles in all directions, Black Plateau, even though it's a mesa, not a plateau. Then add a hundred years of Spanish and American cowboys translating Indian names and adding their own, and you have a map-makers nightmare.

"You also have a lot of lost tourists."

The left corner of Billy's mouth lifted slightly. "Just remember that Arwen Mesa and Aragorn Mesa and all the nameless mesas are nothing but narrow fingers stretching out from the huge hand known as Black Plateau."

"I'm beginning to understand why men invented satellite photos. It's the only way to see how the pieces all fit together."

Billy shot Dom an amused, approving glance, but only for an instant. The truck moving at barely five miles an hour bumped and thumped over the rock strewn, narrowing canyon. To Dom's eyes, there was nothing to distinguish the cliff rimmed canyon they had entered from the many other tributary canyons that emptied into Elf Wash. The mouth of Arwen Canyon was perhaps eighty yards across, marked by nothing but a faint suggestion of tire tracks in the sand. The cliffs were of a vaguely ruddy, vaguely gold sandstone that reminded Dom of the color of Billy's hair. The narrow beds of shale that lay under the sandstone crumbled readily, forming steep, slippery pile of shale fragments at the base of the cliffs.

Scattered on the surface of the gray-brown shale debris were huge, erratic piles of sandstone rubble that were formed when the shale crumbled and washed away faster than the more durable cliffs above, leaving the sandstone cliffs without support at their base. Then great sheets of sandstone peeled away from the overhanging cliffs and fell to the earth below, shattering into rubble and leaving behind arches and alcoves, and deeper overhangs, and sometimes, filling pre-existing alcoves.

In many cases, the shale had been eroded by the seeping of groundwater between layers of sandstone and shale. When the water eventually reached the edge of a cliff or a ravine, it became a spring, a source of clean, year round water for the people who eventually sought shelter in the arching overhangs that the springs had helped to create. Without the water, there would have been no cliff hanging alcoves for men to take shelter within, no easily defended villages set into sheer stone. Without the very special circumstances of sandstone, shale and water, the civilization would have developed differently, had it developed at all.

The interlocking of Anasazi and the land had always fascinated Dom. The fact that their cliff houses were found in some of the most remote, starkly beautiful landscapes in America simply added to his fascination.

"Does the Double L run cattle here?" Dom asked.

"Not for several years."

"Then how were the ruins discovered?"

"Liv was returning a potshard that Viggo had found years ago in the mouth of Arwen Canyon and given to her. She drove out from Helm’s Deep alone and spent several hours walking the canyon floor. There had been a storm recently, and a tree had fallen. She came around a bend and there the ruins were."

"That must have been incredible, " Dom said, his voice throaty with longing.

"I doubt that Liv was in a mood to appreciate it. She had come here to say goodbye to everything she had ever wanted; the land, the ranch and most of all, the man."

"Viggo?"

Silently, Billy nodded.

"What changed her mind?"

"Viggo. He finally got it through his hard head that Liv was the one woman in a million who could live on an isolated ranch and not go sour."

Dom's mouth turned down in a sad curve. "I was ranch raised. It's not for everyone, man or woman."

"You didn't like it?"

"I loved it. No matter how bad things got at home, the land was always waiting, always beautiful, always there. I could walk away from the buildings and the land would….."

Dom's voice shivered into silence as he realized what he had almost revealed.

"Heal you?" Billy suggested softly.

Dom's eyes closed and a tiny shudder went through him. Billy was too perceptive. He saw things with dangerous clarity.

"The land was here long before a primate climbed down out of a tree and put a kink in his back trying to see over the grass, " Billy said matter of factly. "The land will be here long after we're gone. That frightens some people, because it makes them feel small and worthless, but some people are made whole by touching something that's bigger than they are, something enduring, something that lives on a different time scale than man."

The words slid past Dom's defenses, making him realize that Billy was one of those who had come to the land to be healed.

"What hurt you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

The lines of Billy's face shifted, reminding Dom of the cold, deadly fighter who had come over the corral fence and flattened a larger, whip-wielding opponent in a matter of seconds.

"I'm sorry, " Dom said quickly. "I had no right to ask."

Billy nodded curtly, either agreeing with him or accepting his apology, Dom wasn't certain which.

It was silent in the truck for a few moments before Billy said, "We're coming up on the base camp. It's beneath that big overhang on the left."

Dom heard more than the words; he heard what wasn't said as well. Gone was the subtle emotion that had made Billy's voice like black velvet when he talked about the land. His tone was neither reserved, nor outgoing, simply neutral and polite.

Telling himself that Billy's withdrawal didn't matter, Dom looked beyond his handsome, unyielding profile to the smooth cliff wall rising above scattered pinions. The sandstone gleamed against the thunderheads that had consumed the sky, and something bright flickered at the edge of his vision. A few seconds later, thunder pealed through the narrow canyon, shaking the ground. Spectral light flickered and danced again, and again, thunder reverberated between stone walls.

Dom rolled the window down and closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, savoring the pungent, suddenly cool wind. Soon it would begin to rain; he could feel it. He could smell it in the air, the unique blend of heat and dust rising up from the ground, and countless water drops reaching down to caress the dry land.

Thunder belled again and then again. A gust of wind came through the open truck window, pouring over Dom. He laughed softly, wishing he was alone so that he could hold out his arms and embrace the wild, summer storm.

The subdued music of Dom's laughter drew Billy's attention. He looked at Dom for only an instant, but it was enough. He knew he would never forget the picture Dom with his head thrown back, the long smooth expanse of his neck exposed, just asking to be kissed and his hair tousled as though by a lover's hands, his cheeks flushed with excitement, and his lips parted as he gave himself to the storm wind.

The persistent, male curiosity Billy had felt at his first sight of Dom retreating from the skirmish at the corral became a torrent of desire pouring through him, hardening him with a speed he hadn't known since he was a teenager. His lips ached to kiss the crooked smile that surfaced too infrequently, his tongue wanted nothing more than to lick the smooth expanse of the golden, tanned skin of Dom's neck, and his fingers itched to card through Dom's hair as he kissed him senseless. Cursing silently, Billy forced his attention away from his quickened body and onto the demands of the journey. The last quarter mile of terrain to the ruins was tricky, because most of it was over greasy shale slopes, studded with house sized boulders of sandstone that had fallen from the thick, cliff forming layer of rock. The truck bucked and tires spun in protest at the slippery going as the vehicle groaned up the final hill.

"Wouldn't it have been better to walk from the base camp?" Dom asked bracing himself against the dashboard.

"I was in a hurry."

"Why?" Dom asked, looking toward Billy as the truck bucked over the ridge and stopped abruptly.
"That's why."

The flat, predatory quality of Billy's voice froze Dom's breath. Slowly, Dom followed his gaze.

A dirty Range Rover was parked among the rubble at the base of the cliff. Beyond the vehicle, lightweight aluminum ladders extended up the twenty feet of massive sandstone that separated the ruins from the rubble below.

Billy reached over, unlocked the gun rack that hung over the rear window and chose the shotgun, leaving the rifle in place. He checked the shotgun's load, racked a shell into the chamber, then got out of the truck and closed the door before he turned to look at Dom through the open window.

"Stay here."

Thunder belled harshly, followed by a cannonade of rain sweeping in shining veils over the ground. Holding the shotgun muzzle down, Billy ignored the rain that quickly soaked through his clothing, listening as there was a muffled shout from the ruins. He ignored that, too. The Range Rover was unlocked. He went through the vehicle quickly, finding and unloading a pistol and a rifle. A quick motion of his wrist sent bullets arcing out into the rain. The weapons he put way into the back of the Rover, next to a big carton. With one eye on the pot hunters who were scrambling down the rain slick ladders, Billy ripped open the box.

It was filled with Anasazi pots, their bold geometrics and corrugated finish unmistakable in the watery light. Bits of turquoise and shell gleamed in the bottom of one bowl. Billy lifted the carton out, set it on the ground and returned to the interior of the rover. It stank of cigarette smoke and gasoline that was evaporating from a five gallon container with a faulty seal.

As the pothunters hit the bottom of the ladder and started running towards him, Billy opened the container and poured it over the inside of the truck. The stench of raw gas, swirled up, overpowering.
"Hey!" hollered the first man. "Get the hell out of there! That truck's private property."

The Rover was between Billy and the pot hunters. When he stepped out around the rear of the vehicle, the men could see the shotgun held with professional ease in Billy's hands, muzzle slanted down, neither pointing toward or away from the men.

The first man slowed his reckless pace to a wary walk. He was in his mid-twenties and carried himself as though he had spent time in the military. He was big, hard-shouldered, and used to intimidating people with his sheer size.

"You're trespassing on Double L land, " Billy said

"I didn't see any signs."

The line of Billy's mouth lifted in a sardonic curl. "Too bad. Get in your Rover and drive out of here."
The other two men caught up with the first just as he shouted, "You'll be hearing from me cowboy. You're threatening private citizens. We were just traveling around in the back country and made a wrong turn somewhere. It could have happened to anyone, and that's what I'll tell the sheriff when I file a complaint.

"The only wrong turn you made was in thinking all you'd find out here were pots and a few grad students even younger than you are.

"Think you're a big man with that shotgun, don't you?"

"You sure didn't learn much in the marines before they threw you out, " Billy drawled.

"How did you know I was…." The man's voice faded even as angry color rose in his face. He jerked his head towards the Rover. The other two men reached for the door handles.

Billy watched with an air of shuttered expectancy, and he wasn't disappointed. No sooner did the two men open the doors than there were simultaneous shuts of outrage.

"He poured gas all over the damn truck."

"Karl, the pots are gone!"

Then one of the men noticed the guns. He slammed the door and said in disgust. "Pack it in Karl. He got to the guns. They’re empty"

Karls' face flattened into mean lines as he measured the cowboy standing at ease in front of him.

"You heard them, " Billy said. "Pack it in." He raised his voice slightly and said to the other two men. "Get in the car and shut the doors."

The younger man colored with frustration and anger when his two companions obediently climbed into the Rover, slamming both doors behind them.

"Those are my pots, " Karl said angrily. "If they're not in the Rover when I leave, I'll sue your smart ass for theft.

"Go home kid. School's out."

As Billy spoke, he casually broke open his shotgun and removed the shell from the firing chamber.

Karl was as foolish as Billy had hoped. The younger man began weaving and feinting, his body held in the stance of someone who had been trained in unarmed combat.

Billy closed the shotgun with a fast snap of his wrist, and set the weapon on the Rover's hood before he turned and walked toward the younger man. As though Billy's calm approach unnerved Karl, he attacked. Billy deflected the charge with a deceptively casual motion of his shoulders that sent Karl staggering off balance over the slippery rubble.

Karl went to his hands and knees, then scrambled to his feet and came after Billy again.

One of the Rover's doors opened just behind Billy. He spun around and lashed out with his booted foot, connecting with metal. There was a startled curse, a cry of pain, and the sound of a door slamming closed beneath Billy's foot. Before the echo could return from the stone walls, Billy had turned around again.

Karl was more careful in his tactics this time, but the result was still the same. When he lunged for Billy, Karl got nothing but a handful of mud. It happened again, then a fourth time, and each time, Karl ended up on his hands and knees.

"Hurry up kid," Billy said watching Karl push to his feet for the fifth time. "I'm getting tired of standing 'round in the rain waiting for you to get smart."

With an inarticulate cry of rage, Karl came to his feet, clawing beneath the windbreaker with his right hand, tearing a hunting knife free of its sheath. This time when Karl charged, Billy made a single, swift movement that send the other man head over heels to land hard and flat on his back, gasping for air. Billy's boot descended on Karl's right wrist, and after bending over, Billy took the knife from Karl's hand, tested the edge of the blade, and made a disdainful sound.

"You'd be lucky to cut butter with this, boy."

Karl's glazed eyes focused on Billy, who was throwing the knife from hand to hand, flipping it end over end, testing the knife's balance with the expertise of someone thoroughly accustomed to using a knife as a weapon.

"Other than the edge, it's a nice knife," Billy said after a few moments. "Really fine."

There was a brief blur of movement, followed by the sound of steel grating through earth. Buried half the length of it's blade, the knife gleamed only inches from Karl's shocked face. Billy removed his boot from Karl's wrist.

"Pull the knife out and put it back in your belt."

Karl reached slowly for the knife. For an instant as his fingers closed around the hilt, he thought of throwing the knife at the smaller, rain soaked man who had humiliated him with such offhanded ease.

Watching with the patience of a predator, Billy waited to see how smart Karl really was.
Slowly, reluctantly, Karl returned the knife to its sheath.

"You're learning kid. Too bad. I was looking forward to watching you eat that knife." Billy bent down and dragged the younger man to his feet with a single powerful motion.

"Now here's something else for you to learn. I've been hearing things about a busted-out gyrene pothunter who gets his kicks slapping around teachers who's only crime is wanting to camp in a national park.

For the first time since the fight had started, Karl was close enough to see Billy's eyes beneath the dripping brim of his cowboy hat. The younger man's face paled visibly.

"Hearing things like that makes me real impatient," Billy said matter of factly "When I get impatient, I get clumsy, and when I get clumsy, I break things. My friends are the same way, and I've got friends all over the state. So if you know any other pothunting cowards, pass the word. Starting now, my friends and I will be damned clumsy. Understand?"

Slowly Karl nodded.

Billy opened his hands and stepped back, his body both relaxed and perfectly balanced.

"You're going to start thinking about this, and drinking, and pretty soon you'll be sure you can take me. So think on this. Next time you come after me, I'll strip you, pin a diaper on you and walk you through town wearing a pink bonnet. Know something else? You won't have a mark on you, but you'll be marching double time just the same." Billy jerked his head toward the Rover. "Make sure I don't hear about you again, kid. I purely despise bullies."

Karl backed away from Billy and reached for the Rover's front door with more eagerness than grace.

Billy watched. He was about to congratulate the two men in the rover on their good sense in staying out of his way when he saw that the reason they had sidelined themselves wasn't good sense.

Dom had stepped down from the truck and was standing in the rain, sighting down a rifle he had braced against the hood of the truck.

Chapter 7

Comments

[daydreambeleevr.livejournal.com]

i am in love with this billy. wuff! :smile:

beginning to end, just quite a man. and that last line, with dom getting involved!!! yippee skippee. i like that he wasn't a coward, and that he did something that was probably very hard for him to do.

excellent chapter, thanks!

kerry =)

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

It was hard for him but he had no choice....he had to do it.

The next chapter is even harder on him.

Glad you're still enjoying it.

[(Anonymous)]

Ah, good... Dom had the good sense not to become a "hostage", and to do what he could without putting Billy in danger - great!

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

He was perfect back up for Billy. Glad you're liking it.

[celtprincess13.livejournal.com]

Oh, my. *fans self* Billy is might near awesome, isn't he. Rowr!

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

He's pretty near the perfect man isn't he.

Glad you're enjoying.

[elouisa.livejournal.com]

I love it, the sense of action and speed you have created in Billy's skirmish with Karl is really well done. Can't wait to see how this continues.

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

Thanks hon, glad you're enjoying it.

[crsty1961.livejournal.com]

Oh God I love your Billy! Where do I find one like him for a friend?
Yay another chapter tomarrow too!

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

I think we all deserve a man like Billy.

Glad you're enjoying.

[youlikeraisins.livejournal.com]

Ooh, I'm already so engrossed in this fic I've been having dreams about it. Can't wait for the next chapter!!

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

Dreaming about it? *hugs*

Hope you like the new chapter.

[-vanillashake.livejournal.com]

Now I'm REALLY in love with this fic.
Can't wait for the next part =)

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

*blushes*

Thanks sweetie, glad you're enjoying it.

[trina.livejournal.com]

Love. That is all.

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

Glad you like it.

[divinemadam.livejournal.com]

Love! Love! Love! Happy, happy, joy, joy! I know the story, and I still get giddy when I see a new chapter! Wonderful job!

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

You don't know what it means for me to have someone who knows Elizabeth Lowell's sotry to appreciate this.

Glad you're still enjoying it.

Hope the apartment hunt is going better, your experiences thus far really bite.

[starlingthefool.livejournal.com]

I'm all proud of Dom. What a brilliant image of him in the rain with a gun. *shivery feeling*
Ooh! And Billy. God! Where can I find someone like that?

[sassywitch.livejournal.com]

Isn't he a good boy? Doesn't even realise why or how but he's protecting Billy.

We all need to scour the countryside and find our own Billy, I'm sure of it.

Glad you're enjoying.

[katze-boston.livejournal.com]

This story is marvelous! I can't wait for more.

[loozy.livejournal.com]

OMG.... Where;s the next part? *flails*

I need to read more... This is sooo intense...

And Billy's cool... And poor baby, he hurts so much :(