Sigh...I can't help myself. This song is growing on me and I just love Spock-McCoy slash. (And yes, I posted this on another blog too!)
Sunday, June 29, 2008
The Silver Coin, Part Nine
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Joe swore under his breath when he saw Sport standing at the post outside of David and Abby's cabin. This was just his luck. Oh, he was glad that Adam and David were on speaking terms again, but why did Adam have to choose tonight to visit?
He stared up at the moon, as if expecting an answer. None came.
Joe sighed and leaned forward a bit in the saddle. He had two options. He could turn around now, go home to bed and hope for a chance to speak with David privately tomorrow. Or he could enter the cabin, pretending to pay a social call and hope for a chance to speak with David privately now.
He pulled out his pocket watch and held it up to the moonlight. It was just after midnight--which meant that technically it was Friday already. Friday the thirteenth, as it happened. Jesus, how unlucky could he get? Friday the thirteenth would curse him—whichever
decision he made would turn out to be the wrong one.
And there was a full moon out. Joe wasn't sure about the precise superstitions regarding full moons and Friday the thirteenth, but it couldn't be a good thing.
He bit his lip. It was going to be pretty tough to stroll into the cabin after midnight and pretend that he was paying a social call.
On the other hand, he probably wouldn't see David tomorrow. Joe would be out early riding fence and by the time he got back it would be after sundown, so the Jewish Sabbath would have started. And David was observant enough not to talk business or money on the Sabbath. So Joe would have to wait till Saturday night or Sunday to approach him.
Just his luck, he thought again. Why did Adam have to be here now? And why did Joe feel like he had to skulk around where older brother was concerned?
He sighed again. He couldn’t just march in there and ask Adam for the loan—he had already decided that. So that meant skulking around.
Just then the back door of the cabin opened and Abby walked out, carrying a lantern and wrapping a shawl around herself as she trotted over to him. Joe waved to her and dismounted Cochise.
“You didn’t tell them I was here, did you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, because I can see that you’re trying to avoid your brother.”
He smiled sheepishly. “How’d you guess?”
Abby laughed. “I watched you ride up and panic at the sight of Sport.”
“Yeah, I suppose I did,” he owned. “Here’s my problem, Abby. I need to talk to David, but I don’t want Adam to know about it.”
She frowned and set the lantern down. “Are you in trouble?” she asked.
“Sort of,” Joe admitted. “Money trouble.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be best off asking Adam for help?” she persisted.
Joe shook his head. “No, I’d just as soon make sure that Adam never hears about this. I was just trying to figure out how to knock on your door after midnight and pretend it’s a social call.”
“No, that won’t work,” Abby agreed. “But you don’t have to be paying a call. Are you coming back from Virginia City?”
“Yeah,” Joe answered.
“Good,” she said. “We’re closer to Virginia City than the main house. And since you’re so tired, you stopped here to spend the night rather than riding all the way back home.”
He smiled appreciatively. “Abby, that’s brilliant. Does Adam mean to spend the night or is he riding home?”
“Oh, I imagine he’ll spend the night at this point,” she answered, taking his arm as Joe led Cochise to the post. “Now I have plenty of blankets, but we don’t have a bed in the spare room yet—you two will have to fight over the settee.”
“Oh, we’ll be fine. We’ve both slept in worse places than the floor by your fireplace,” he assured her. “But can you distract Adam at some point and give me a chance to talk to David?”
She nodded. “Yes, but not right away. They’re bent over a chess game and you know how engrossed they get.”
“I’ll see to the horses, then,” Joe said, nodding to the small stable that now stood behind the cabin.
Abby smiled. “Good. I’ll go back inside and tell them you’re here.”
LINK TO PART TEN
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Joe swore under his breath when he saw Sport standing at the post outside of David and Abby's cabin. This was just his luck. Oh, he was glad that Adam and David were on speaking terms again, but why did Adam have to choose tonight to visit?
He stared up at the moon, as if expecting an answer. None came.
Joe sighed and leaned forward a bit in the saddle. He had two options. He could turn around now, go home to bed and hope for a chance to speak with David privately tomorrow. Or he could enter the cabin, pretending to pay a social call and hope for a chance to speak with David privately now.
He pulled out his pocket watch and held it up to the moonlight. It was just after midnight--which meant that technically it was Friday already. Friday the thirteenth, as it happened. Jesus, how unlucky could he get? Friday the thirteenth would curse him—whichever
decision he made would turn out to be the wrong one.
And there was a full moon out. Joe wasn't sure about the precise superstitions regarding full moons and Friday the thirteenth, but it couldn't be a good thing.
He bit his lip. It was going to be pretty tough to stroll into the cabin after midnight and pretend that he was paying a social call.
On the other hand, he probably wouldn't see David tomorrow. Joe would be out early riding fence and by the time he got back it would be after sundown, so the Jewish Sabbath would have started. And David was observant enough not to talk business or money on the Sabbath. So Joe would have to wait till Saturday night or Sunday to approach him.
Just his luck, he thought again. Why did Adam have to be here now? And why did Joe feel like he had to skulk around where older brother was concerned?
He sighed again. He couldn’t just march in there and ask Adam for the loan—he had already decided that. So that meant skulking around.
Just then the back door of the cabin opened and Abby walked out, carrying a lantern and wrapping a shawl around herself as she trotted over to him. Joe waved to her and dismounted Cochise.
“You didn’t tell them I was here, did you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, because I can see that you’re trying to avoid your brother.”
He smiled sheepishly. “How’d you guess?”
Abby laughed. “I watched you ride up and panic at the sight of Sport.”
“Yeah, I suppose I did,” he owned. “Here’s my problem, Abby. I need to talk to David, but I don’t want Adam to know about it.”
She frowned and set the lantern down. “Are you in trouble?” she asked.
“Sort of,” Joe admitted. “Money trouble.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be best off asking Adam for help?” she persisted.
Joe shook his head. “No, I’d just as soon make sure that Adam never hears about this. I was just trying to figure out how to knock on your door after midnight and pretend it’s a social call.”
“No, that won’t work,” Abby agreed. “But you don’t have to be paying a call. Are you coming back from Virginia City?”
“Yeah,” Joe answered.
“Good,” she said. “We’re closer to Virginia City than the main house. And since you’re so tired, you stopped here to spend the night rather than riding all the way back home.”
He smiled appreciatively. “Abby, that’s brilliant. Does Adam mean to spend the night or is he riding home?”
“Oh, I imagine he’ll spend the night at this point,” she answered, taking his arm as Joe led Cochise to the post. “Now I have plenty of blankets, but we don’t have a bed in the spare room yet—you two will have to fight over the settee.”
“Oh, we’ll be fine. We’ve both slept in worse places than the floor by your fireplace,” he assured her. “But can you distract Adam at some point and give me a chance to talk to David?”
She nodded. “Yes, but not right away. They’re bent over a chess game and you know how engrossed they get.”
“I’ll see to the horses, then,” Joe said, nodding to the small stable that now stood behind the cabin.
Abby smiled. “Good. I’ll go back inside and tell them you’re here.”
LINK TO PART TEN
The Rogue's Company, Part Sixteen
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
I have to give a deal of credit to Little Joe. He wasn’t put off in the least to hear that my tools were now resting in Adam’s room. No, he simply incorporated that fact into our plans.
“Calm down, Shea,” he said to me the next afternoon. “This works out beautifully.”
“How can you look at me and say that?” I demanded. “He’ll know the tools are missing, Joe. I can’t take just a few—you’ll need all of them.”
“I know,” he said as he stretched himself out on the settee. Then he had the bloody damned audacity to wave a hand toward the safe, indicating that I should clean up and disguise the fact that he’d been practicing on it.
I managed, barely, to conquer the urge to strangle him. Wasn’t he my employer’s little brother? Then it was settled: I’d have to let him live.
Joe, meanwhile, was sighing with content as he put his hands behind his head. “How about this?” he asked. “We’ll let Hoss in on our plans—I can make him understand that we’re not breaking any promises—and then all four of us will go into town together.”
I was kneeling on the floor by the safe now, but I glanced over at him again. “All four of us?” I repeated blankly. “All four of who?”
Joe rolled his eyes and then explained it slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child. “You, me, Adam and Hoss,” he said. “We’ll go to town in the buckboard—it’ll be easy to hide your tools in it. And Adam won’t be at home to check and see if they're in his room, will he?”
“And then we have Hoss keep him distracted once we’re in town?” I asked, catching Joe’s drift.
He shook his head. “No—that’ll be your job. Hoss is going to help me go after the safe.”
I bristled at that. “And how do you two mean to get in there on your own?”
He grinned. “By walking through the front door, of course. All we have to do is call on Mr. Maris—we’ll come up with some excuse for that—when we know he won’t be home. Then we’ll ask to wait for him.”
“You’ll be shown to the sitting room,” I pointed out.
He nodded. “But I’m sure I can sneak into the study.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’ll know who robbed the safe.”
“Yeah,” Joe admitted. “But I don’t think he’ll be able to prove it. Besides, nothing’s going to be missing, remember? I’m not going to take anything. I just want a look at that map. And, with a little luck, I’ll be able to fix the safe up well enough so that it’ll take some time for Maris to realize that someone tampered with it. Heck, Pa don’t check the safe here every day. We may get lucky.”
I frowned. I still wasn’t satisfied with this plan. “There are plenty of servants there,” I pointed out. “Someone might see you.”
“I’ll get around them—don’t worry. And, if I get caught, I’ll just pass it off as a lark. I’ll say a friend dared me. I doubt Maris is going to call the sheriff—he won’t want to start a fight with Pa, I reckon.”
My frown turned into a scowl. Joe had too much confidence for his own good. But he was probably right—Mr. Maris probably wouldn’t prosecute him. No one would think that Joe was robbing the safe with malicious intent. And the Cartwright name would go a long way toward protecting him. The worst he was risking, probably, was a slap on the wrist from the law and a tanning from his Pa.
The world is a bloody unfair place, isn’t it?
“And what excuse will you be using to call on Maris?” I asked.
He furrowed his brow. “Got it!” he said after a moment. “I’ve had my eye on one of his stallions for months now. I’ll just make him another offer on behalf of the Ponderosa.”
I thought that over. It sounded plausible enough. “Very well,” I said with a shrug. “When should we try this?”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “We can’t afford to wait any longer. Besides, supplies come in tomorrow—that’ll give all of us an excuse to go to town.”
“I don’t generally help with the supplies,” I reminded him.
“Well, it’s about time you learned how to do something other than ironing older brother’s shirts,” Joe opined.
I was about to strangle him for that when I noticed the teasing glint in his eyes. I sighed yet again. How did that damned eejit make it so impossible to stay angry with him? And why the devil was I so willing to fall in with his plans?
I shook my head and turned back to the safe. All will go well, I promised myself. All will go well…
Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG
Link to Part One
~
I have to give a deal of credit to Little Joe. He wasn’t put off in the least to hear that my tools were now resting in Adam’s room. No, he simply incorporated that fact into our plans.
“Calm down, Shea,” he said to me the next afternoon. “This works out beautifully.”
“How can you look at me and say that?” I demanded. “He’ll know the tools are missing, Joe. I can’t take just a few—you’ll need all of them.”
“I know,” he said as he stretched himself out on the settee. Then he had the bloody damned audacity to wave a hand toward the safe, indicating that I should clean up and disguise the fact that he’d been practicing on it.
I managed, barely, to conquer the urge to strangle him. Wasn’t he my employer’s little brother? Then it was settled: I’d have to let him live.
Joe, meanwhile, was sighing with content as he put his hands behind his head. “How about this?” he asked. “We’ll let Hoss in on our plans—I can make him understand that we’re not breaking any promises—and then all four of us will go into town together.”
I was kneeling on the floor by the safe now, but I glanced over at him again. “All four of us?” I repeated blankly. “All four of who?”
Joe rolled his eyes and then explained it slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child. “You, me, Adam and Hoss,” he said. “We’ll go to town in the buckboard—it’ll be easy to hide your tools in it. And Adam won’t be at home to check and see if they're in his room, will he?”
“And then we have Hoss keep him distracted once we’re in town?” I asked, catching Joe’s drift.
He shook his head. “No—that’ll be your job. Hoss is going to help me go after the safe.”
I bristled at that. “And how do you two mean to get in there on your own?”
He grinned. “By walking through the front door, of course. All we have to do is call on Mr. Maris—we’ll come up with some excuse for that—when we know he won’t be home. Then we’ll ask to wait for him.”
“You’ll be shown to the sitting room,” I pointed out.
He nodded. “But I’m sure I can sneak into the study.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’ll know who robbed the safe.”
“Yeah,” Joe admitted. “But I don’t think he’ll be able to prove it. Besides, nothing’s going to be missing, remember? I’m not going to take anything. I just want a look at that map. And, with a little luck, I’ll be able to fix the safe up well enough so that it’ll take some time for Maris to realize that someone tampered with it. Heck, Pa don’t check the safe here every day. We may get lucky.”
I frowned. I still wasn’t satisfied with this plan. “There are plenty of servants there,” I pointed out. “Someone might see you.”
“I’ll get around them—don’t worry. And, if I get caught, I’ll just pass it off as a lark. I’ll say a friend dared me. I doubt Maris is going to call the sheriff—he won’t want to start a fight with Pa, I reckon.”
My frown turned into a scowl. Joe had too much confidence for his own good. But he was probably right—Mr. Maris probably wouldn’t prosecute him. No one would think that Joe was robbing the safe with malicious intent. And the Cartwright name would go a long way toward protecting him. The worst he was risking, probably, was a slap on the wrist from the law and a tanning from his Pa.
The world is a bloody unfair place, isn’t it?
“And what excuse will you be using to call on Maris?” I asked.
He furrowed his brow. “Got it!” he said after a moment. “I’ve had my eye on one of his stallions for months now. I’ll just make him another offer on behalf of the Ponderosa.”
I thought that over. It sounded plausible enough. “Very well,” I said with a shrug. “When should we try this?”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “We can’t afford to wait any longer. Besides, supplies come in tomorrow—that’ll give all of us an excuse to go to town.”
“I don’t generally help with the supplies,” I reminded him.
“Well, it’s about time you learned how to do something other than ironing older brother’s shirts,” Joe opined.
I was about to strangle him for that when I noticed the teasing glint in his eyes. I sighed yet again. How did that damned eejit make it so impossible to stay angry with him? And why the devil was I so willing to fall in with his plans?
I shook my head and turned back to the safe. All will go well, I promised myself. All will go well…
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Picture of the Day
I've just read some lovely Sherlock Holmes fan fiction (you can the review here.) Ok, ok--yeah, it was Holmes-Watson slash. Quite plausible slash, I might add. I might just have to try a short piece of my own...
The Silver Coin, Part Eight
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Abby smiled as she reached for a cloth in order to dry the dishes. Adam and David were sitting opposite of each other, bent over a chessboard. At the moment they were both oblivious to the outside world—nothing mattered but the game. Each man was determined to out-think and out-strategize the other.
David would likely win the match. Even Adam was willing to admit that he was the better player. That was only fitting, for David spent much more time at chess than Adam did. But David considered Adam a worthy challenge regardless and he loved to hone his skills against him.
She shook her head. After all this time, these two were still rivals. Not bitter rivals, of course—not any more. But this gentler rivalry would always exist between them. It lent the spice to their relationship, she supposed. That was incomprehensible to Abby, but there was nothing to do but shrug her shoulders. At least they were no longer at each other’s throats over Little Joe’s poker habits.
She felt herself blush. She was on such intimate terms with both these men. She always knew when there was friction between them and often she could find a way to sort it out. Of course, sometimes there was trouble between herself and David instead—but in that case, Adam could generally smooth things over. And he usually had the decency to take her side, she noted with satisfaction.
She smiled again. Sometimes she felt like she was married to both of them. How strange that was, considering that she wasn’t sleeping with either man.
No, that wasn’t true. Ever since she and David had moved into the cottage, they’d shared a bed. It was a small house, after all, and the spare room was on reserve for the children they meant to adopt. So David had decided—without consulting Abby—that they would share a room and a bed like a normal married couple.
Not that she minded. She’d always thought it was silly for David to sleep on the settee whenever he spent the night at the flat he had rented for her. But it did lead to an awkward situation.
David had been married once before—and he had been quite forthcoming with the details. The union had ended in divorce. He had been young and he hadn’t fully understood his inclinations. And that had made everything rather, um, uncomfortable. Somehow he managed to consummate the marriage, but he had difficulty performing afterwards. And his wife’s frustration and scorn didn’t help matters.
Abby didn’t expect David to perform for her—she’d had quite enough of that, thank you, when she worked as a saloon girl. But David was still uncomfortable and surprisingly shy at night. He would sleep as far away from her as possible on the bed, risking falling off rather than any unintentional contact.
He was still haunted by ghosts from his first marriage, no doubt.
After the third night of his lunacy, Abby decided to speak up. She sat up, fumbled for the matches that she kept on her night table and managed to get the lamp lit. Then she turned to her husband.
“David, this is ridiculous,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t spend the rest of your life trying to sleep on the edge. You were the one who decided we should share a bed, remember?”
He sighed and rolled over to face her. “Yes,” he owned. “I’m sorry, Avigail,” he continued, calling her by her Hebrew name. “It’s just that—well, suddenly it seems much more obvious that I’m not a proper husband to you.”
Her eyes softened. “You are a proper husband,” she assured him. “I knew what I was getting into from the beginning. Besides, at least I’ll never have to lie here and think of my country.”
David laughed—a warm, mischievous laugh that almost made her catch her breath. He was a good-looking devil, this husband of hers. Especially now, when he was all tousled and disheveled.
“Is that what respectable women do?” he asked.
“So I’ve been told,” she answered as she managed a teasing smile. “Women are never supposed to enjoy themselves, you know. It’s all for the sake of children.”
“I don’t know if our religion views it that way,” he remarked. “Technically speaking, a woman can get a divorce if her husband doesn’t sleep with her often enough.”
She winked at him. “That's only because children are so important in our faith. But don't worry; I’m not going to divorce you,” she promised.
“Good,” he said as he put a casual arm around her and drew her to him. “I’m not sure either Adam or I could live without you.”
He’d kissed her hair after that and fallen asleep with his chin on top of her head. In the nights that followed, however, he wasn’t so tactile. It was always like that with David: one moment he was affectionate, the next he seemed to shy away. But at least he stopped sleeping on the furthest edge of the bed.
The sound of a horse approaching jolted Abby’s thoughts back to the present. She turned to look at her two men—both of them were so absorbed in their game that they hadn’t noticed the noise. She shook her head again and went to take a glimpse out the window.
It was Little Joe, riding up to the cottage on Cochise. Abby smiled, expecting him to dismount and come to the door. But he was hesitating—and it seemed to be because he had caught sight of Sport, his brother’s horse.
Abby frowned. Was Joe trying to avoid Adam? And if so, did it have something to do with poker? David was convinced that Joe was in over his head, even if Adam didn’t want to hear it.
She bit her lip. Well, if Joe didn’t want Adam to know he was here, she would have to make sure that Adam didn’t find out. Not yet, at any event. Abby loved Adam, but she wanted to know what the problem was before she carried any tales to him.
Little Joe might have the right to some privacy.
LINK TO PART NINE
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Abby smiled as she reached for a cloth in order to dry the dishes. Adam and David were sitting opposite of each other, bent over a chessboard. At the moment they were both oblivious to the outside world—nothing mattered but the game. Each man was determined to out-think and out-strategize the other.
David would likely win the match. Even Adam was willing to admit that he was the better player. That was only fitting, for David spent much more time at chess than Adam did. But David considered Adam a worthy challenge regardless and he loved to hone his skills against him.
She shook her head. After all this time, these two were still rivals. Not bitter rivals, of course—not any more. But this gentler rivalry would always exist between them. It lent the spice to their relationship, she supposed. That was incomprehensible to Abby, but there was nothing to do but shrug her shoulders. At least they were no longer at each other’s throats over Little Joe’s poker habits.
She felt herself blush. She was on such intimate terms with both these men. She always knew when there was friction between them and often she could find a way to sort it out. Of course, sometimes there was trouble between herself and David instead—but in that case, Adam could generally smooth things over. And he usually had the decency to take her side, she noted with satisfaction.
She smiled again. Sometimes she felt like she was married to both of them. How strange that was, considering that she wasn’t sleeping with either man.
No, that wasn’t true. Ever since she and David had moved into the cottage, they’d shared a bed. It was a small house, after all, and the spare room was on reserve for the children they meant to adopt. So David had decided—without consulting Abby—that they would share a room and a bed like a normal married couple.
Not that she minded. She’d always thought it was silly for David to sleep on the settee whenever he spent the night at the flat he had rented for her. But it did lead to an awkward situation.
David had been married once before—and he had been quite forthcoming with the details. The union had ended in divorce. He had been young and he hadn’t fully understood his inclinations. And that had made everything rather, um, uncomfortable. Somehow he managed to consummate the marriage, but he had difficulty performing afterwards. And his wife’s frustration and scorn didn’t help matters.
Abby didn’t expect David to perform for her—she’d had quite enough of that, thank you, when she worked as a saloon girl. But David was still uncomfortable and surprisingly shy at night. He would sleep as far away from her as possible on the bed, risking falling off rather than any unintentional contact.
He was still haunted by ghosts from his first marriage, no doubt.
After the third night of his lunacy, Abby decided to speak up. She sat up, fumbled for the matches that she kept on her night table and managed to get the lamp lit. Then she turned to her husband.
“David, this is ridiculous,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t spend the rest of your life trying to sleep on the edge. You were the one who decided we should share a bed, remember?”
He sighed and rolled over to face her. “Yes,” he owned. “I’m sorry, Avigail,” he continued, calling her by her Hebrew name. “It’s just that—well, suddenly it seems much more obvious that I’m not a proper husband to you.”
Her eyes softened. “You are a proper husband,” she assured him. “I knew what I was getting into from the beginning. Besides, at least I’ll never have to lie here and think of my country.”
David laughed—a warm, mischievous laugh that almost made her catch her breath. He was a good-looking devil, this husband of hers. Especially now, when he was all tousled and disheveled.
“Is that what respectable women do?” he asked.
“So I’ve been told,” she answered as she managed a teasing smile. “Women are never supposed to enjoy themselves, you know. It’s all for the sake of children.”
“I don’t know if our religion views it that way,” he remarked. “Technically speaking, a woman can get a divorce if her husband doesn’t sleep with her often enough.”
She winked at him. “That's only because children are so important in our faith. But don't worry; I’m not going to divorce you,” she promised.
“Good,” he said as he put a casual arm around her and drew her to him. “I’m not sure either Adam or I could live without you.”
He’d kissed her hair after that and fallen asleep with his chin on top of her head. In the nights that followed, however, he wasn’t so tactile. It was always like that with David: one moment he was affectionate, the next he seemed to shy away. But at least he stopped sleeping on the furthest edge of the bed.
The sound of a horse approaching jolted Abby’s thoughts back to the present. She turned to look at her two men—both of them were so absorbed in their game that they hadn’t noticed the noise. She shook her head again and went to take a glimpse out the window.
It was Little Joe, riding up to the cottage on Cochise. Abby smiled, expecting him to dismount and come to the door. But he was hesitating—and it seemed to be because he had caught sight of Sport, his brother’s horse.
Abby frowned. Was Joe trying to avoid Adam? And if so, did it have something to do with poker? David was convinced that Joe was in over his head, even if Adam didn’t want to hear it.
She bit her lip. Well, if Joe didn’t want Adam to know he was here, she would have to make sure that Adam didn’t find out. Not yet, at any event. Abby loved Adam, but she wanted to know what the problem was before she carried any tales to him.
Little Joe might have the right to some privacy.
LINK TO PART NINE
The Silver Coin, Part Seven
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Joe felt sick to his stomach as he urged Cochise back toward the Ponderosa. How could this have happened? What had gone wrong?
It started out as just a friendly poker game at the Bucket of Blood with some Irish miners. Irish miners with thick brogues—they must have been fresh off the boat. Sometimes Joe wasn’t even sure that they were speaking English.
But he enjoyed playing against them regardless. And he had held his own—he’d even been a little ahead for most of the game. Meanwhile, the saloon girls kept bringing more beer. The beer seemed to make the miners’ brogues even thicker. Either that or the beer made it even harder for Joe to interpret their lilting voices.
Then one of the Irishmen had pointed to Joe’s chips and said something about money. Joe couldn’t really understand him. He guessed that the fellow was congratulating him on the pot he’d just won. So Joe just nodded and waited for someone to deal the next hand.
But the miner seemed to be looking for more than just a nod. The man held out his hand to Joe. And Joe, not wanting to offend, took the hand and shook it. That seemed to make all the Irishmen happy.
Joe continued to play, although his luck took a turn for the worse. Over the next hour or so he lost all his profit and a portion of what he started with.
And then the game broke up. Joe counted his chips and then dug into his pockets to pay up his losses.
But the three Irishmen just exchanged glances when he tried to hand over the cash. One of them stared incredulously, one let out a string of Irish swears and the last one demanded to know what Joe was about. That’s what Joe could make out of his words, anyway.
It took a while to get to the bottom of the problem. A saloon girl and a couple of spectators had to get involved. But at length everything became clear—and that’s when Joe started feeling queasy.
Back when that one Irishman had pointed to Joe’s chips and said something about money, he hadn’t just been congratulating Joe on his win. No—he’d been asking Joe if they could raise the value of the chips. And Joe, mistaking the situation, had stupidly nodded and then shook the man’s hand.
Joe thought that he just owed five hundred dollars. That was a lot of money, but at least he had it on hand. He’d had a run of luck since he’d beaten David the other night.
But he didn’t owe these Irishmen five hundred dollars—he owed them five thousand. And it wouldn’t do Joe any good to protest that he’d misunderstood. There were too many witnesses who had heard the request to up the value of the chips and had watched Joe shake hands on it.
He could say that it was obviously a mistake. He could say that if the Irishmen had really wanted to increase the value of the chips, everyone at the table should have had to pay more money for their 'buy-in.'
But that was no use. The Irishers would just claim that it was a friendly game and they had assumed that Joe was good for the money without a new buy-in.
The three Irishmen, as it turned out, were more than happy to wait for a payout. They’d heard of the Ponderosa and knew that Joe could come up with the money. Sure, they’d take his marker. Not to worry.
Joe had gritted his teeth at that. How stupid of him—he’d been set up. These men knew a mark when they saw one. They’d laid a trap for Joe and he’d been fool enough to walk right into it.
They’d poured on their brogues nice and thick just to confuse Joe. One of them even had the audacity to lighten his brogue now that it was all over.
Joe felt his blood boil at that—he hated to be swindled. But he had no one to blame but himself for this one.
He sighed and pulled Cochise to a halt. Where was he going to come up with five thousand dollars?
His first option was to tell his Pa and ask for a loan. No, scratch that. That wasn’t an option.
Hoss didn’t have five thousand so there was no point in approaching him.
What about Adam? Joe sighed again. Adam probably had five thousand to spare. He’d always been smart with money and investments.
But asking Adam for a loan like that was problematic at the best of times. Now—well, now was probably the worst time to ask him.
That was because of David. He wasn’t keen on Joe’s poker habit. Joe was well aware that he’d gotten into a vicious fight with Adam over it.
Joe felt some guilt over that—he hadn’t meant to cause trouble between the pair. But, as he told David afterward, Adam was real protective when it came to his little brother. He didn’t like for anyone but himself to find fault with Joe.
Well, sometimes he let Pa or Hoss find fault with him. Sometimes.
Joe frowned and leaned forward in the saddle. If he went to Adam and told him about this fiasco, Adam might start having second thoughts. He might start listening to David’s warnings that Joe was in too deep when it came to poker. And that could make things inconvenient for Joe.
Adam was a last resort then. There had to be another way to come up the money.
Of course there were friends that Joe could approach—but Joe hated borrowing from friends. Besides, none of them had this kind of money on hand.
Well, that left only David. David was family—hell, his love affair with Adam made him a brother in law, as far as Joe was concerned. So it wasn’t like borrowing from a friend. And if David didn’t have the five thousand on hand, he’d find a way to come up with it.
Of course, David wasn’t keen on loaning Joe money right now. But Joe could cajole him into it. And he was pretty sure that David wouldn’t bring up the matter with Adam—not when they had just agreed to a truce after that furious fight.
Joe gave Cochise a gentle kick and steered him on the path that led to the cabin that David and Abby called home. It was the same cabin that Joe had fixed up for his own bride—although she had died before they could marry. It had sat for over a year without anyone using it, so he had offered it to David and Abby. No sense in letting it rot.
It occurred to Joe, not for the first time, that he and David were much alike. Oh, he didn’t have David’s brains when it came to chess and finances. And David didn’t have his skills on a horse or on the range. But they both had an eye for mischief, more charm than the law should allow, a fierce loyalty to those they loved and a need for daredevil risks.
And they were both devoted to Adam. That had been the cincher for Joe—the real reason that he decided to accept Adam’s love affair with this man. He had found out that David was hopelessly in love with older brother.
Of course, in David’s case, some of those traits might be due to his upbringing. He’d grown up in the theatre, after all. And the theatre folk had let him run wild.
He’d learned all sorts of things from them. Magicians had taught him to juggle, pull coins from ears and pick locks. Actors had taught him Shakespeare, charm and mimicry. And a variety of older stagehands had taught him whist and chess.
Joe smiled suddenly. You wouldn’t know it, but he’d actually had more formal schooling than David. But it must have been something to skip school and help pull the curtains instead.
The bohemian lifestyle had always held its charms for Joe. But he’d never been able to bring himself to leave the Ponderosa in order to pursue it. He and Hoss had managed to join one circus—or Tweedy’s miserable excuse for one. That’d been during the ‘Old Sheba’ fiasco. But even for that brief time, Joe had missed Pa and Adam and his own bed. In the end, he was just a homebody.
Joe shook his head and set those thoughts aside. He had more important things to think about right now—like how to wheedle David into that loan.
LINK TO PART EIGHT
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Joe felt sick to his stomach as he urged Cochise back toward the Ponderosa. How could this have happened? What had gone wrong?
It started out as just a friendly poker game at the Bucket of Blood with some Irish miners. Irish miners with thick brogues—they must have been fresh off the boat. Sometimes Joe wasn’t even sure that they were speaking English.
But he enjoyed playing against them regardless. And he had held his own—he’d even been a little ahead for most of the game. Meanwhile, the saloon girls kept bringing more beer. The beer seemed to make the miners’ brogues even thicker. Either that or the beer made it even harder for Joe to interpret their lilting voices.
Then one of the Irishmen had pointed to Joe’s chips and said something about money. Joe couldn’t really understand him. He guessed that the fellow was congratulating him on the pot he’d just won. So Joe just nodded and waited for someone to deal the next hand.
But the miner seemed to be looking for more than just a nod. The man held out his hand to Joe. And Joe, not wanting to offend, took the hand and shook it. That seemed to make all the Irishmen happy.
Joe continued to play, although his luck took a turn for the worse. Over the next hour or so he lost all his profit and a portion of what he started with.
And then the game broke up. Joe counted his chips and then dug into his pockets to pay up his losses.
But the three Irishmen just exchanged glances when he tried to hand over the cash. One of them stared incredulously, one let out a string of Irish swears and the last one demanded to know what Joe was about. That’s what Joe could make out of his words, anyway.
It took a while to get to the bottom of the problem. A saloon girl and a couple of spectators had to get involved. But at length everything became clear—and that’s when Joe started feeling queasy.
Back when that one Irishman had pointed to Joe’s chips and said something about money, he hadn’t just been congratulating Joe on his win. No—he’d been asking Joe if they could raise the value of the chips. And Joe, mistaking the situation, had stupidly nodded and then shook the man’s hand.
Joe thought that he just owed five hundred dollars. That was a lot of money, but at least he had it on hand. He’d had a run of luck since he’d beaten David the other night.
But he didn’t owe these Irishmen five hundred dollars—he owed them five thousand. And it wouldn’t do Joe any good to protest that he’d misunderstood. There were too many witnesses who had heard the request to up the value of the chips and had watched Joe shake hands on it.
He could say that it was obviously a mistake. He could say that if the Irishmen had really wanted to increase the value of the chips, everyone at the table should have had to pay more money for their 'buy-in.'
But that was no use. The Irishers would just claim that it was a friendly game and they had assumed that Joe was good for the money without a new buy-in.
The three Irishmen, as it turned out, were more than happy to wait for a payout. They’d heard of the Ponderosa and knew that Joe could come up with the money. Sure, they’d take his marker. Not to worry.
Joe had gritted his teeth at that. How stupid of him—he’d been set up. These men knew a mark when they saw one. They’d laid a trap for Joe and he’d been fool enough to walk right into it.
They’d poured on their brogues nice and thick just to confuse Joe. One of them even had the audacity to lighten his brogue now that it was all over.
Joe felt his blood boil at that—he hated to be swindled. But he had no one to blame but himself for this one.
He sighed and pulled Cochise to a halt. Where was he going to come up with five thousand dollars?
His first option was to tell his Pa and ask for a loan. No, scratch that. That wasn’t an option.
Hoss didn’t have five thousand so there was no point in approaching him.
What about Adam? Joe sighed again. Adam probably had five thousand to spare. He’d always been smart with money and investments.
But asking Adam for a loan like that was problematic at the best of times. Now—well, now was probably the worst time to ask him.
That was because of David. He wasn’t keen on Joe’s poker habit. Joe was well aware that he’d gotten into a vicious fight with Adam over it.
Joe felt some guilt over that—he hadn’t meant to cause trouble between the pair. But, as he told David afterward, Adam was real protective when it came to his little brother. He didn’t like for anyone but himself to find fault with Joe.
Well, sometimes he let Pa or Hoss find fault with him. Sometimes.
Joe frowned and leaned forward in the saddle. If he went to Adam and told him about this fiasco, Adam might start having second thoughts. He might start listening to David’s warnings that Joe was in too deep when it came to poker. And that could make things inconvenient for Joe.
Adam was a last resort then. There had to be another way to come up the money.
Of course there were friends that Joe could approach—but Joe hated borrowing from friends. Besides, none of them had this kind of money on hand.
Well, that left only David. David was family—hell, his love affair with Adam made him a brother in law, as far as Joe was concerned. So it wasn’t like borrowing from a friend. And if David didn’t have the five thousand on hand, he’d find a way to come up with it.
Of course, David wasn’t keen on loaning Joe money right now. But Joe could cajole him into it. And he was pretty sure that David wouldn’t bring up the matter with Adam—not when they had just agreed to a truce after that furious fight.
Joe gave Cochise a gentle kick and steered him on the path that led to the cabin that David and Abby called home. It was the same cabin that Joe had fixed up for his own bride—although she had died before they could marry. It had sat for over a year without anyone using it, so he had offered it to David and Abby. No sense in letting it rot.
It occurred to Joe, not for the first time, that he and David were much alike. Oh, he didn’t have David’s brains when it came to chess and finances. And David didn’t have his skills on a horse or on the range. But they both had an eye for mischief, more charm than the law should allow, a fierce loyalty to those they loved and a need for daredevil risks.
And they were both devoted to Adam. That had been the cincher for Joe—the real reason that he decided to accept Adam’s love affair with this man. He had found out that David was hopelessly in love with older brother.
Of course, in David’s case, some of those traits might be due to his upbringing. He’d grown up in the theatre, after all. And the theatre folk had let him run wild.
He’d learned all sorts of things from them. Magicians had taught him to juggle, pull coins from ears and pick locks. Actors had taught him Shakespeare, charm and mimicry. And a variety of older stagehands had taught him whist and chess.
Joe smiled suddenly. You wouldn’t know it, but he’d actually had more formal schooling than David. But it must have been something to skip school and help pull the curtains instead.
The bohemian lifestyle had always held its charms for Joe. But he’d never been able to bring himself to leave the Ponderosa in order to pursue it. He and Hoss had managed to join one circus—or Tweedy’s miserable excuse for one. That’d been during the ‘Old Sheba’ fiasco. But even for that brief time, Joe had missed Pa and Adam and his own bed. In the end, he was just a homebody.
Joe shook his head and set those thoughts aside. He had more important things to think about right now—like how to wheedle David into that loan.
LINK TO PART EIGHT
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The Monstrosity, Part Eighteen
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: R
LINK TO PART ONE
~
I kept my word. I stayed up late that night, reading to Drew in his room. I was sitting in a plump chair with my feet propped up near the fireplace. Drew, meanwhile, had taken the chair opposite me.
We were both dressed for bed—we’d gotten quite casual in each other’s company. I suppose that only makes sense, given how much time we spent together.
It was a warm night, so the fireplace was empty. I was reading by a single lamp. I paused to glance over at Drew. He was nodding off again.
I grinned. “Shall we stop there?” I asked.
“No,” he said, shaking himself awake. “I’m not ready to sleep yet.”
I rolled my eyes at that obvious lie. “Well, why don’t you get into bed, then? I’ll read until you’re out.”
“I’m not tired, Adam,” he growled. “Just keep reading the bloody story.”
I raised an eyebrow at him as I shut the book. “I thought the whole point of this was to give you the feeling of reading yourself to sleep.”
He snorted. “Yes, but it won’t work—not while you’re the one who’s reading,” he complained. “I’d end up feeling like a five-year-old who needs a bedtime story.”
I was tempted to roll my eyes again. “You have a lot of misplaced pride,” I informed him. “Are you aware of that?”
“Easy for you to say, O Sighted One,” he retorted.
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Fair enough,” I granted. I went back to the book, found the page and began reading out loud again. He was sound asleep within twenty minutes.
I set the book aside and quietly stood up. Drew looked comfortable enough in his chair, so I didn’t think there was a need to get him to his bed. Besides, he would have bit my head off for babying him if I had tried. Instead I retrieved a couple of blankets and put them over him.
Once he was as tucked in as much as I could manage without waking him, I took a moment to stare down at him. The harsh edge to his face was softened by sleep. I could almost—almost—forget that I was peering at a ruthless businessman who had taken pleasure in crushing his competition.
I realized then that we’d been avoiding any mention of the mine we owned in common. Since Kane, I had ignored my interest in it, leaving the decisions in Drew’s hands. I knew that was a mistake. Oh, I had no doubt that Drew was running a profit—but he was perfectly capable of making that profit at the expense of the men who worked the mine. I’d never known Drew to take much interest in their safety.
In a perverse way, I hoped that he had been unfair to the men. I needed something to argue with him about tomorrow—not the brief sort of clash or debate that we both enjoyed, but something that I could legitimately hold against him. I needed a reason to avoid going to the soiree. And if Drew’s business practices offended me deeply enough, I could climb onto my high horse and refuse to accompany him.
Even in his sleep, Drew must have felt the weight of my stare. He stirred a bit and opened his eyes. “Adam?” he said, reaching a hand up out of his blankets to see if I was still there.
“I’m here,” I said, reaching down to grasp his hand in mid-search.
“You stopped reading,” he said in an accusing tone.
I smiled down at him as I perched on the arm of his chair. “You fell sound asleep—you didn’t wake up even when I put these blankets on you.”
He made a face as he felt the blankets with his free hand. “There’s another one over on the bed that I like better than these,” he complained.
“Then you can get up yourself and get it,” I informed him.
He smiled a little. “I’d rather have you at my beck and call,” he said. “Don’t you want to help the poor blind boy?”
I grinned and tousled his hair again. “I think you can make it across the room to your bed. God knows we counted the steps enough times.”
He cocked his head at me as he let go of my hand. “You don’t hate that, do you?” he asked. “Helping me to learn my way around, I mean.”
“No,” I said honestly. “I find it interesting to learn the ways you have of handling your blindness. And I’m especially interested if to see if you can read on your own with Braille’s system or something similar.”
He cringed a bit at that.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t know how to read,” he confessed. “Not at all. I can recite the alphabet, but I don’t know how any of the letters sound or what they mean.”
I was surprised—but of course, I shouldn’t have been. Why should he have bothered learning to spell and such? Written words had no meaning to him.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I’ll teach you. I know what a good memory you have—and learning to read is largely a question of memorization.”
He grinned. “I hope you know what you’re getting into. I’m a temperamental student, remember?”
I laughed. “I think we’ll manage.”
“I think we will,” he agreed. Then he paused to yawn. “Why’d you stay in here after I was sleeping?” he asked. “It was almost as if I could feel you staring at me.”
“I was,” I admitted. “I was, ah, scheming to get out of the soiree.”
He rolled his eyes. “How?”
“By picking a fight with you over the mine.”
Now what prompted me to confess that? I suppose I thought too highly of Drew to foist an argument on him.
“It wouldn’t have worked,” he said, unimpressed by my confession. “While you were recovering, I did my best to run it in a way that you would approve of. I took good care of the men, don’t worry.”
I was shocked—but oddly touched as well. “Thank you,” I managed. “What—what made take my opinions into account?”
He shrugged. “There was no point in being contrary when you weren’t there to appreciate it.”
I laughed again and stood up. “I suppose that means I’m stuck going to this damn party.”
“You are,” he confirmed. “Now get out—I need my sleep.”
“Do you want help to your bed?” I asked, despite the fact that I knew what his answer would be.
“I can make it, remember?”
I nodded. “Good night, Drew,” I said softly. Then I left his room and strode across the hall to my own bed.
LINK TO PART NINETEEN
Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: R
LINK TO PART ONE
~
I kept my word. I stayed up late that night, reading to Drew in his room. I was sitting in a plump chair with my feet propped up near the fireplace. Drew, meanwhile, had taken the chair opposite me.
We were both dressed for bed—we’d gotten quite casual in each other’s company. I suppose that only makes sense, given how much time we spent together.
It was a warm night, so the fireplace was empty. I was reading by a single lamp. I paused to glance over at Drew. He was nodding off again.
I grinned. “Shall we stop there?” I asked.
“No,” he said, shaking himself awake. “I’m not ready to sleep yet.”
I rolled my eyes at that obvious lie. “Well, why don’t you get into bed, then? I’ll read until you’re out.”
“I’m not tired, Adam,” he growled. “Just keep reading the bloody story.”
I raised an eyebrow at him as I shut the book. “I thought the whole point of this was to give you the feeling of reading yourself to sleep.”
He snorted. “Yes, but it won’t work—not while you’re the one who’s reading,” he complained. “I’d end up feeling like a five-year-old who needs a bedtime story.”
I was tempted to roll my eyes again. “You have a lot of misplaced pride,” I informed him. “Are you aware of that?”
“Easy for you to say, O Sighted One,” he retorted.
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Fair enough,” I granted. I went back to the book, found the page and began reading out loud again. He was sound asleep within twenty minutes.
I set the book aside and quietly stood up. Drew looked comfortable enough in his chair, so I didn’t think there was a need to get him to his bed. Besides, he would have bit my head off for babying him if I had tried. Instead I retrieved a couple of blankets and put them over him.
Once he was as tucked in as much as I could manage without waking him, I took a moment to stare down at him. The harsh edge to his face was softened by sleep. I could almost—almost—forget that I was peering at a ruthless businessman who had taken pleasure in crushing his competition.
I realized then that we’d been avoiding any mention of the mine we owned in common. Since Kane, I had ignored my interest in it, leaving the decisions in Drew’s hands. I knew that was a mistake. Oh, I had no doubt that Drew was running a profit—but he was perfectly capable of making that profit at the expense of the men who worked the mine. I’d never known Drew to take much interest in their safety.
In a perverse way, I hoped that he had been unfair to the men. I needed something to argue with him about tomorrow—not the brief sort of clash or debate that we both enjoyed, but something that I could legitimately hold against him. I needed a reason to avoid going to the soiree. And if Drew’s business practices offended me deeply enough, I could climb onto my high horse and refuse to accompany him.
Even in his sleep, Drew must have felt the weight of my stare. He stirred a bit and opened his eyes. “Adam?” he said, reaching a hand up out of his blankets to see if I was still there.
“I’m here,” I said, reaching down to grasp his hand in mid-search.
“You stopped reading,” he said in an accusing tone.
I smiled down at him as I perched on the arm of his chair. “You fell sound asleep—you didn’t wake up even when I put these blankets on you.”
He made a face as he felt the blankets with his free hand. “There’s another one over on the bed that I like better than these,” he complained.
“Then you can get up yourself and get it,” I informed him.
He smiled a little. “I’d rather have you at my beck and call,” he said. “Don’t you want to help the poor blind boy?”
I grinned and tousled his hair again. “I think you can make it across the room to your bed. God knows we counted the steps enough times.”
He cocked his head at me as he let go of my hand. “You don’t hate that, do you?” he asked. “Helping me to learn my way around, I mean.”
“No,” I said honestly. “I find it interesting to learn the ways you have of handling your blindness. And I’m especially interested if to see if you can read on your own with Braille’s system or something similar.”
He cringed a bit at that.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t know how to read,” he confessed. “Not at all. I can recite the alphabet, but I don’t know how any of the letters sound or what they mean.”
I was surprised—but of course, I shouldn’t have been. Why should he have bothered learning to spell and such? Written words had no meaning to him.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I’ll teach you. I know what a good memory you have—and learning to read is largely a question of memorization.”
He grinned. “I hope you know what you’re getting into. I’m a temperamental student, remember?”
I laughed. “I think we’ll manage.”
“I think we will,” he agreed. Then he paused to yawn. “Why’d you stay in here after I was sleeping?” he asked. “It was almost as if I could feel you staring at me.”
“I was,” I admitted. “I was, ah, scheming to get out of the soiree.”
He rolled his eyes. “How?”
“By picking a fight with you over the mine.”
Now what prompted me to confess that? I suppose I thought too highly of Drew to foist an argument on him.
“It wouldn’t have worked,” he said, unimpressed by my confession. “While you were recovering, I did my best to run it in a way that you would approve of. I took good care of the men, don’t worry.”
I was shocked—but oddly touched as well. “Thank you,” I managed. “What—what made take my opinions into account?”
He shrugged. “There was no point in being contrary when you weren’t there to appreciate it.”
I laughed again and stood up. “I suppose that means I’m stuck going to this damn party.”
“You are,” he confirmed. “Now get out—I need my sleep.”
“Do you want help to your bed?” I asked, despite the fact that I knew what his answer would be.
“I can make it, remember?”
I nodded. “Good night, Drew,” I said softly. Then I left his room and strode across the hall to my own bed.
LINK TO PART NINETEEN
The Silver Coin, Part Six
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Adam sat at the table, eating his meal quietly. He was only halfway through his plate, but Hoss was on his second helping of steak already.
Since he couldn’t work up any appetite for himself, he raised his eyebrows at Hoss. “You sure that steak’s raw enough?” he asked him.
Hoss looked up from his plate and smiled. “This is the perfect steak.”
Joe frowned from across the table at the almost blood-red meat. “I don’t know how you can eat that—I think Hop Sing just kind of waved it over the fire.”
“The cow stood out in the sun,” Hoss said judiciously. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s cooked enough.”
Little Joe blanched at that and put down his fork. Adam couldn’t help but smile a bit—his little brother looked like he had just lost his appetite.
Adam glanced up at his father’s seat, forgetting that Pa wasn’t there. He was escorting David’s mother—the famous Josephine Levine—to dinner and the theatre. That brought a smile to Adam’s face. He liked Josephine and he was happy that his Pa had found such a charming, if scandalous, companion.
In theory, Pa was engaged to her, despite her past career as an actress. Whether they would make it down the aisle, however, was sometimes in doubt. She was fiercely independent and she had a handsome fortune of her own. She had no need of a husband. Moreover, she had more than one divorce to her credit. It would seem that matrimony didn’t agree with her.
But she was in love with Pa, despite what she considered his ‘tiresome bourgeois morals.’ Perhaps that would make the difference.
Adam felt his grin deepen. Compared to his mother, David was almost straight-laced.
“Bet you that’s not even healthy,” Joe said to Hoss, jarring Adam out of his thoughts.
Adam opened his mouth at that, intending to come to Hoss’s defense this time. But the front door opened and David strolled inside. Adam stiffened—he and David hadn’t had any civil words for each other today. Hoss and Joe both greeted him warmly, however.
“Hey—tell these two that there’s nothing wrong with my steak,” Hoss told the newcomer.
David walked over to the table and cast a critical eye on the meat. “It looks like the perfect steak to me,” he said. “I like `em nice and rare.”
“Ha!” Hoss said, pointing his fork at Little Joe.
Joe made a face at David. “How could you eat meat like that?” he demanded. “I thought rare meat wasn’t even kosher.”
Adam cocked his head at his little brother. “None of the Ponderosa beef is kosher,” he reminded Joe.
Little Joe rolled his eyes. “I know that—that’s not what I meant. Josephine said kosher meat has to be really cooked.”
David let out a long-suffering sigh. “Kindly don’t get your information on Judaism from my mother. I doubt she knows the difference between Passover and Yom Kippur.”
“What is the difference?” Joe asked.
David grinned. “We eat a ton of stuff on Passover and nothing on Yom Kippur.”
Hoss laughed. “Sign me up for Passover then,” he said between mouthfuls. “So you can have rare meat?”
“Of course,” David answered. “As long as the meat is kosher you can cook it as much or as little as you like. Or not cook it at all—I’ve heard of French kosher restaurants that serve steak tartare.”
“What’s that?” Hoss demanded.
“Just what he said,” Adam explained. “Meat that’s not cooked at all.”
Joe’s face went pale again. “You mean raw meat?”
Adam and David nodded in unison.
Hoss looked delighted at that—Joe, on the other hand, looked ill.
“It’s quite good,” David said meditatively. “Although, not as good as escargots. I used to eat that before I started keeping kosher—or at least semi-kosher. It’s one of the few, ah, ‘forbidden’ foods that I miss.”
Adam found himself smiling up at David. “I don’t imagine there’s any way to make snails kosher.”
David smiled back and shook his head. “No, there isn’t. More’s the pity.”
If possible, Joe turned even whiter. In fact, even Hoss set down his fork at that.
“Snails?” Hoss repeated.
“Snails,” Adam agreed. “And it is quite good—pity you can’t get escargots around here.”
“Excuse me,” said Joe, getting up from the table with a sickly expression on his face.
Hoss stared at his plate for another moment and then reluctantly pushed it aside. Apparently the thought of eating snails was too much even for his appetite. “Reckon I’m done too,” he said in a voice of regret.
Adam watched as both his brothers vacated the room. He turned to David with an appreciative smile. “We seem to have bought ourselves some privacy.”
David winked at him as he took Little Joe’s seat. “So we have,” he agreed. But then his expression turned more serious. “So what now?”
Adam gave him a measuring look. “Now we agree to a truce,” he said evenly. “I don’t want us to be after each other’s throats—especially when we’re out stocking all the line shacks.”
“Agreed,” David said. Then he paused and gave Adam a tentative smile. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, since I rode out here looking for revenge.”
Adam smiled. “We have,” he agreed.
David pushed Joe’s plate out of the way and then leaned in toward Adam. “Are we—are we done keeping each other at arm’s length over this disagreement about Joe?”
Adam considered that. At length he leaned toward David and took one of David’s hands in his own.
“We don’t have to stay at arm’s length,” he said quietly. “But I think it’d be best if we didn’t talk about Joe—and it’d be better still if you’d stop worrying about him. I know he’s a reckless kid, but he doesn’t need you to curb his poker habits.”
To his surprise, David nodded. “I agree with you there—Joe and I have been partners in crime too often for me to correct him. I should have realized that.”
He paused and took a deep breath. “You ought to be the one checking up on him, Adam,” he continued. “He’d listen to you if you told him he was in too deep. I’m not saying that he won’t give you a hard time about it—but he has the utmost respect for you.”
“Don’t tell me how to treat my little brother,” Adam said as he bristled up and released David’s hand.
David sighed. “I care for Joe too, Adam. I’d hardly put myself through an argument with you—not to mention a bruising poker match with him—if I didn’t.”
Adam felt his gaze soften at that. “I know. Look, let’s let it drop for now, all right?”
David stared down at his hands for a moment and then shrugged. “All right.”
Adam leaned further toward him and kissed him gently on the mouth. When they broke apart, he settled back into his chair and picked up his glass of wine. He should have felt relieved, but somehow he knew that he was only putting off more problems—with both David and Joe.
LINK TO PART SEVEN
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Adam sat at the table, eating his meal quietly. He was only halfway through his plate, but Hoss was on his second helping of steak already.
Since he couldn’t work up any appetite for himself, he raised his eyebrows at Hoss. “You sure that steak’s raw enough?” he asked him.
Hoss looked up from his plate and smiled. “This is the perfect steak.”
Joe frowned from across the table at the almost blood-red meat. “I don’t know how you can eat that—I think Hop Sing just kind of waved it over the fire.”
“The cow stood out in the sun,” Hoss said judiciously. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s cooked enough.”
Little Joe blanched at that and put down his fork. Adam couldn’t help but smile a bit—his little brother looked like he had just lost his appetite.
Adam glanced up at his father’s seat, forgetting that Pa wasn’t there. He was escorting David’s mother—the famous Josephine Levine—to dinner and the theatre. That brought a smile to Adam’s face. He liked Josephine and he was happy that his Pa had found such a charming, if scandalous, companion.
In theory, Pa was engaged to her, despite her past career as an actress. Whether they would make it down the aisle, however, was sometimes in doubt. She was fiercely independent and she had a handsome fortune of her own. She had no need of a husband. Moreover, she had more than one divorce to her credit. It would seem that matrimony didn’t agree with her.
But she was in love with Pa, despite what she considered his ‘tiresome bourgeois morals.’ Perhaps that would make the difference.
Adam felt his grin deepen. Compared to his mother, David was almost straight-laced.
“Bet you that’s not even healthy,” Joe said to Hoss, jarring Adam out of his thoughts.
Adam opened his mouth at that, intending to come to Hoss’s defense this time. But the front door opened and David strolled inside. Adam stiffened—he and David hadn’t had any civil words for each other today. Hoss and Joe both greeted him warmly, however.
“Hey—tell these two that there’s nothing wrong with my steak,” Hoss told the newcomer.
David walked over to the table and cast a critical eye on the meat. “It looks like the perfect steak to me,” he said. “I like `em nice and rare.”
“Ha!” Hoss said, pointing his fork at Little Joe.
Joe made a face at David. “How could you eat meat like that?” he demanded. “I thought rare meat wasn’t even kosher.”
Adam cocked his head at his little brother. “None of the Ponderosa beef is kosher,” he reminded Joe.
Little Joe rolled his eyes. “I know that—that’s not what I meant. Josephine said kosher meat has to be really cooked.”
David let out a long-suffering sigh. “Kindly don’t get your information on Judaism from my mother. I doubt she knows the difference between Passover and Yom Kippur.”
“What is the difference?” Joe asked.
David grinned. “We eat a ton of stuff on Passover and nothing on Yom Kippur.”
Hoss laughed. “Sign me up for Passover then,” he said between mouthfuls. “So you can have rare meat?”
“Of course,” David answered. “As long as the meat is kosher you can cook it as much or as little as you like. Or not cook it at all—I’ve heard of French kosher restaurants that serve steak tartare.”
“What’s that?” Hoss demanded.
“Just what he said,” Adam explained. “Meat that’s not cooked at all.”
Joe’s face went pale again. “You mean raw meat?”
Adam and David nodded in unison.
Hoss looked delighted at that—Joe, on the other hand, looked ill.
“It’s quite good,” David said meditatively. “Although, not as good as escargots. I used to eat that before I started keeping kosher—or at least semi-kosher. It’s one of the few, ah, ‘forbidden’ foods that I miss.”
Adam found himself smiling up at David. “I don’t imagine there’s any way to make snails kosher.”
David smiled back and shook his head. “No, there isn’t. More’s the pity.”
If possible, Joe turned even whiter. In fact, even Hoss set down his fork at that.
“Snails?” Hoss repeated.
“Snails,” Adam agreed. “And it is quite good—pity you can’t get escargots around here.”
“Excuse me,” said Joe, getting up from the table with a sickly expression on his face.
Hoss stared at his plate for another moment and then reluctantly pushed it aside. Apparently the thought of eating snails was too much even for his appetite. “Reckon I’m done too,” he said in a voice of regret.
Adam watched as both his brothers vacated the room. He turned to David with an appreciative smile. “We seem to have bought ourselves some privacy.”
David winked at him as he took Little Joe’s seat. “So we have,” he agreed. But then his expression turned more serious. “So what now?”
Adam gave him a measuring look. “Now we agree to a truce,” he said evenly. “I don’t want us to be after each other’s throats—especially when we’re out stocking all the line shacks.”
“Agreed,” David said. Then he paused and gave Adam a tentative smile. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, since I rode out here looking for revenge.”
Adam smiled. “We have,” he agreed.
David pushed Joe’s plate out of the way and then leaned in toward Adam. “Are we—are we done keeping each other at arm’s length over this disagreement about Joe?”
Adam considered that. At length he leaned toward David and took one of David’s hands in his own.
“We don’t have to stay at arm’s length,” he said quietly. “But I think it’d be best if we didn’t talk about Joe—and it’d be better still if you’d stop worrying about him. I know he’s a reckless kid, but he doesn’t need you to curb his poker habits.”
To his surprise, David nodded. “I agree with you there—Joe and I have been partners in crime too often for me to correct him. I should have realized that.”
He paused and took a deep breath. “You ought to be the one checking up on him, Adam,” he continued. “He’d listen to you if you told him he was in too deep. I’m not saying that he won’t give you a hard time about it—but he has the utmost respect for you.”
“Don’t tell me how to treat my little brother,” Adam said as he bristled up and released David’s hand.
David sighed. “I care for Joe too, Adam. I’d hardly put myself through an argument with you—not to mention a bruising poker match with him—if I didn’t.”
Adam felt his gaze soften at that. “I know. Look, let’s let it drop for now, all right?”
David stared down at his hands for a moment and then shrugged. “All right.”
Adam leaned further toward him and kissed him gently on the mouth. When they broke apart, he settled back into his chair and picked up his glass of wine. He should have felt relieved, but somehow he knew that he was only putting off more problems—with both David and Joe.
LINK TO PART SEVEN
The Silver Coin, Part Five
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Adam yawned and stretched and eventually got out of bed. It was a little past sunrise—he should have been up and out already. But he had spent last night tossing and turning and so he had missed out on any real sleep.
He walked over to his dresser and transferred water from the pitcher to the basin. Then he splashed some of it on his face as he prepared to shave. But afterwards he just held the strop and razor in his hands as he stared into the mirror, lost in thought. A few minutes passed before he remembered that he was supposed to be shaving.
His thoughts kept going back to his fight with David. Although he hadn’t shown it at the time, one of David’s shots had struck home—his insistence that Adam reserved the right to find fault with Little Joe exclusively for himself.
There was some truth to that. Even though Adam often took Joe to task, he didn’t like anyone else doing so—except maybe their Pa. And the possibility that anyone else might spot a real problem of Joe’s—even David—grated on him.
On the other hand, Adam thought slowly, if anyone was going to spot such a problem, David was a good candidate. He had no weakness for poker, but he did have a penchant for gambling in other ways. For the most part, he kept that penchant under control—he might indulge in some wild investment schemes, but he still made more money than he lost.
But Adam didn’t expect the same level of accountability from Joe that he expected from David—not where money was concerned, at any event. Joe had never had a good head for figures and money had always burned a hole in his pocket. Of course the kid could improve as far as managing his cash went. But that was different from insisting that the kid was addicted to poker.
No, David was just wrong on that score. And he had no right to make such an accusation.
Still, Adam had been unfair to him when they’d had their argument. He’d been too angry even to listen properly. Well, he’d re-invite David to spend a few days in Carson City to make up for it. He could use David’s help there anyway.
Yeah, a few days away for just the two of them should more than make up for the argument—and it would give David something better to do than furrow his brow over Little Joe.
Eventually Adam finished shaving and dressing and made his way downstairs; but Pa, Hoss and even Little Joe had already breakfasted and left. He shoved some leftovers into his mouth and then put on his hat and gun belt.
He spotted Hoss when he walked out into the yard. His ‘big’ brother was taking a break from chopping wood by staring into a puddle not far from the pile of logs.
Adam grinned. From the enrapt look on his face, you’d think that Hoss was staring at the horizon over the Grand Canyon—not into a mere puddle.
“What’s caught your eye?” he asked as he walked up behind Hoss.
“Stop right there and look into the puddle, older brother,” Hoss answered. “If you stand just right, you can see a rainbow in it. More than one, in fact.”
Adam smiled at that. “I haven’t seen a rainbow in a long time,” he owned.
Hoss winked at him. “Me neither—that’s why I’m willing to settle for one inside a puddle.”
Adam laughed. “Where’s David? Has he shown up yet today?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” Hoss answered. “But it’s early yet. Besides, he and Little Joe were out late last night in town. They were playing poker together.”
“What?” Adam asked. “Are you sure?”
Hoss didn’t look surprised at the change in Adam’s tone. “Yeah, I’m sure. I know you gave Joe fifty dollars in exchange for him taking your place restocking the line shacks with me.”
Adam nodded. “I’m going to use the time to catch up on some business in Carson City.”
Hoss nodded. “Well, Joe told me that David wasn’t too happy about you giving Joe the money. David thinks that Joe plays too much and loses too much—he thinks that Joe is kind of addicted, I guess.”
“Yeah, he does,” Adam confirmed. “So why did he play against Joe?”
“Well, David offered to play him one-on-one until one of them was out of chips,” Hoss explained. “But they weren’t playing for money. If David won, then Joe would lay off the tables for a month.”
“And if Joe won?” Adam prompted.
“Then he would take Joe’s place helping me restock the line shacks.”
Adam sighed. “Who won?”
Hoss grinned. “Joe. But, in fairness, Joe said he had no right to win that game—David was the better player. But Joe just kept getting miracle cards.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “So now David is stuck helping you with the line shacks next week?”
“Yup,” Hoss answered.
Adam swore under his breath. So much for re-inviting him to Carson City. “Well, that’s just perfect. I wish he had just let Little Joe alone.”
Hoss stared back into the puddle again. “Ah, there’s one more thing you ought to know, Adam.”
“What’s that?”
Hoss gave him an apologetic look before answering. “Well, Joe and I had to explain to Pa about the line shacks. You know, that it was supposed to be you and me, and then you paid off Joe to take your place, and then David lost the poker match to Joe, so he got stuck taking Joe’s place.”
Adam narrowed his eyes at him. “And?”
Hoss looked back down into the puddle and splashed at it gently with the toe of his boot. “Well, Pa wants a lot more done with those line shacks than we thought. And he don’t want just David going with me, `cause David has no experience. He—well, he wants you, me and Joe all to go. And he figures it’s just as well to take David along and show him the ropes. We might still need to use him as a hand now and then, instead of just keeping him on all the accounting stuff.”
“I see,” Adam said, somehow managing to keep his voice even. “Well, looks like I won’t be going to Carson City after all. But I suppose the business can wait.”
“Yeah,” Hoss said. “Look, Adam—you and David ain’t going to kill each other, are you?”
Adam smiled grimly but he shook his head. “No. This argument will blow over, don’t worry. Just as soon as David agrees to keep out of Joe’s affairs.”
Hoss frowned at that. “I don’t know about that, Adam. David might be wrong about Joe—but I don’t see why he’s wrong to talk to you or Joe about it.”
“He is wrong,” Adam said flatly. “I’m going into town—there’s a letter I need to mail and someone has to pick up the supplies. Want to come along?”
“No,” Hoss answered. “You go ahead—no offense, older brother, but you’re not the best company today.”
“That’s because I’m annoyed with the world,” Adam explained.
Then he stalked off to the barn, splashing his boot in the puddle along the way. He had already forgotten the rainbows Hoss saw inside it.
LINK TO PART SIX
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Adam yawned and stretched and eventually got out of bed. It was a little past sunrise—he should have been up and out already. But he had spent last night tossing and turning and so he had missed out on any real sleep.
He walked over to his dresser and transferred water from the pitcher to the basin. Then he splashed some of it on his face as he prepared to shave. But afterwards he just held the strop and razor in his hands as he stared into the mirror, lost in thought. A few minutes passed before he remembered that he was supposed to be shaving.
His thoughts kept going back to his fight with David. Although he hadn’t shown it at the time, one of David’s shots had struck home—his insistence that Adam reserved the right to find fault with Little Joe exclusively for himself.
There was some truth to that. Even though Adam often took Joe to task, he didn’t like anyone else doing so—except maybe their Pa. And the possibility that anyone else might spot a real problem of Joe’s—even David—grated on him.
On the other hand, Adam thought slowly, if anyone was going to spot such a problem, David was a good candidate. He had no weakness for poker, but he did have a penchant for gambling in other ways. For the most part, he kept that penchant under control—he might indulge in some wild investment schemes, but he still made more money than he lost.
But Adam didn’t expect the same level of accountability from Joe that he expected from David—not where money was concerned, at any event. Joe had never had a good head for figures and money had always burned a hole in his pocket. Of course the kid could improve as far as managing his cash went. But that was different from insisting that the kid was addicted to poker.
No, David was just wrong on that score. And he had no right to make such an accusation.
Still, Adam had been unfair to him when they’d had their argument. He’d been too angry even to listen properly. Well, he’d re-invite David to spend a few days in Carson City to make up for it. He could use David’s help there anyway.
Yeah, a few days away for just the two of them should more than make up for the argument—and it would give David something better to do than furrow his brow over Little Joe.
Eventually Adam finished shaving and dressing and made his way downstairs; but Pa, Hoss and even Little Joe had already breakfasted and left. He shoved some leftovers into his mouth and then put on his hat and gun belt.
He spotted Hoss when he walked out into the yard. His ‘big’ brother was taking a break from chopping wood by staring into a puddle not far from the pile of logs.
Adam grinned. From the enrapt look on his face, you’d think that Hoss was staring at the horizon over the Grand Canyon—not into a mere puddle.
“What’s caught your eye?” he asked as he walked up behind Hoss.
“Stop right there and look into the puddle, older brother,” Hoss answered. “If you stand just right, you can see a rainbow in it. More than one, in fact.”
Adam smiled at that. “I haven’t seen a rainbow in a long time,” he owned.
Hoss winked at him. “Me neither—that’s why I’m willing to settle for one inside a puddle.”
Adam laughed. “Where’s David? Has he shown up yet today?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” Hoss answered. “But it’s early yet. Besides, he and Little Joe were out late last night in town. They were playing poker together.”
“What?” Adam asked. “Are you sure?”
Hoss didn’t look surprised at the change in Adam’s tone. “Yeah, I’m sure. I know you gave Joe fifty dollars in exchange for him taking your place restocking the line shacks with me.”
Adam nodded. “I’m going to use the time to catch up on some business in Carson City.”
Hoss nodded. “Well, Joe told me that David wasn’t too happy about you giving Joe the money. David thinks that Joe plays too much and loses too much—he thinks that Joe is kind of addicted, I guess.”
“Yeah, he does,” Adam confirmed. “So why did he play against Joe?”
“Well, David offered to play him one-on-one until one of them was out of chips,” Hoss explained. “But they weren’t playing for money. If David won, then Joe would lay off the tables for a month.”
“And if Joe won?” Adam prompted.
“Then he would take Joe’s place helping me restock the line shacks.”
Adam sighed. “Who won?”
Hoss grinned. “Joe. But, in fairness, Joe said he had no right to win that game—David was the better player. But Joe just kept getting miracle cards.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “So now David is stuck helping you with the line shacks next week?”
“Yup,” Hoss answered.
Adam swore under his breath. So much for re-inviting him to Carson City. “Well, that’s just perfect. I wish he had just let Little Joe alone.”
Hoss stared back into the puddle again. “Ah, there’s one more thing you ought to know, Adam.”
“What’s that?”
Hoss gave him an apologetic look before answering. “Well, Joe and I had to explain to Pa about the line shacks. You know, that it was supposed to be you and me, and then you paid off Joe to take your place, and then David lost the poker match to Joe, so he got stuck taking Joe’s place.”
Adam narrowed his eyes at him. “And?”
Hoss looked back down into the puddle and splashed at it gently with the toe of his boot. “Well, Pa wants a lot more done with those line shacks than we thought. And he don’t want just David going with me, `cause David has no experience. He—well, he wants you, me and Joe all to go. And he figures it’s just as well to take David along and show him the ropes. We might still need to use him as a hand now and then, instead of just keeping him on all the accounting stuff.”
“I see,” Adam said, somehow managing to keep his voice even. “Well, looks like I won’t be going to Carson City after all. But I suppose the business can wait.”
“Yeah,” Hoss said. “Look, Adam—you and David ain’t going to kill each other, are you?”
Adam smiled grimly but he shook his head. “No. This argument will blow over, don’t worry. Just as soon as David agrees to keep out of Joe’s affairs.”
Hoss frowned at that. “I don’t know about that, Adam. David might be wrong about Joe—but I don’t see why he’s wrong to talk to you or Joe about it.”
“He is wrong,” Adam said flatly. “I’m going into town—there’s a letter I need to mail and someone has to pick up the supplies. Want to come along?”
“No,” Hoss answered. “You go ahead—no offense, older brother, but you’re not the best company today.”
“That’s because I’m annoyed with the world,” Adam explained.
Then he stalked off to the barn, splashing his boot in the puddle along the way. He had already forgotten the rainbows Hoss saw inside it.
LINK TO PART SIX
The Silver Coin, Part Four
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
David walked into The Silver Dollar Saloon and glanced around the room. He spotted Little Joe immediately, deep in a poker game with two other men. He walked over to the table, but stood apart from it so that he could watch the game.
Joe was doing well. That fifty dollars that Adam had loaned him had turned into at least a hundred, if David was reading the chips right.
He continued to watch as Joe successfully bluffed one of his opponents and won another hefty pot. Joe raked in his chips with a good-natured smile and then caught sight of David.
"Hey, take a seat," he invited.
"I don’t intend to play," David explained.
Joe shrugged. "That doesn’t matter. We’ve got the room. As you can see, older brother was kind enough to give me fifty dollars."
"I know," David said dryly. "We, ah, had some words over that."
Joe grinned. "Never criticize Adam’s treatment of me," he advised him. "I’m still his favorite and he’s always extra-protective where I’m concerned."
David rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the warning."
"You didn’t quit the Ponderosa in a huff or anything, did you?" Joe asked as he dealt the next hand.
David could hear the unspoken questions: ‘Is this a serious fight between you two lovebirds? Should I be concerned?’
"No," David answered. "You’re not worth quitting my job over."
"Good," Joe said with a wink. "Then don’t worry—the argument with Adam will blow over."
"Yes, it will," David agreed. Then he quieted down so that he could watch the game.
He watched for almost an hour. Joe did fairly well—he’d found two men who bought most of his bluffs. That encouraged David.
David didn’t know much about poker, but he knew that you had to choose your opponents carefully. If Joe was sensible enough to play against men who weren’t as good as he was, there was hope for him.
But then Mark, one of the Ponderosa hands, strode into the saloon. Joe’s eyes lit up as he waved him to the table.
David bit his lip at that. Mark had the reputation of being a fine player—in fact, more than once he had thought about quitting his job and playing professionally.
David looked at Joe, who was smiling with delight as Mark took his seat. Apparently Joe was bored of playing against men he knew that he could best.
Three hours later, Joe’s situation had changed. All the profit he had made from the other two men was gone. Mark didn’t buy Joe’s bluffs, so Joe could only beat him when he genuinely held a better hand. And Mark could usually sense when he was beat, so he never invested much into those pots.
David kept hoping that Joe would start avoiding Mark and just play against the other two men. But no such luck.
Five hours later, the game ended. Mark was the clear winner. Joe had lost all his profit and part of the money he came in with. He was down to about twenty-five dollars.
But he took the loss in good spirits—David had to give him that.
"Why didn’t you avoid Mark?" David asked him when the other men left the table. "You were doing just fine against the other two men."
Joe grinned at him and then shook his head. "There was no challenge in beating those other two. What’s the point?"
"Well, there’s the profit you made from them," David pointed out. "You were up quite a bit."
Now it was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes. "I don’t play for the money, David. This is about—it’s about playing on the edge. It’s like—well, playing against someone as dangerous as Mark is like riding with the posse. That’s what it feels like—your blood starts pumping the same way."
David narrowed his eyes at him. "You’re playing strictly for thrills?"
Joe thought about that. "I suppose. Don’t mistake me—I know it’s serious. Heck, riding with a posse is serious too. But there’s something to be said for the excitement."
He paused and gave David his most charming smile. "I know you’re worried about the money I owe you. But I will get it back for you—it’s just a matter of time."
David gave him a hard look. "You’re wrong," he said evenly. "It’s not the money I’m worried about. In fact, you can forget that hundred dollars."
Joe’s smile stayed in place but the expression in his eyes changed. "You think I’m in over my head?"
"Yeah," David answered.
Joe grinned again. "Would you prefer that I spend all my free time riding with posses instead?"
David smiled despite himself. "No."
"Then don’t worry about me," Joe advised him.
David reached out and took hold of the deck of cards. "Care to play against me?"
Joe’s eyebrows shot up. "Sure. I’ve only got this twenty-five, though."
"It’s not about the money, remember?" David said. "I have a different wager in mind."
LINK TO PART FIVE
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
David walked into The Silver Dollar Saloon and glanced around the room. He spotted Little Joe immediately, deep in a poker game with two other men. He walked over to the table, but stood apart from it so that he could watch the game.
Joe was doing well. That fifty dollars that Adam had loaned him had turned into at least a hundred, if David was reading the chips right.
He continued to watch as Joe successfully bluffed one of his opponents and won another hefty pot. Joe raked in his chips with a good-natured smile and then caught sight of David.
"Hey, take a seat," he invited.
"I don’t intend to play," David explained.
Joe shrugged. "That doesn’t matter. We’ve got the room. As you can see, older brother was kind enough to give me fifty dollars."
"I know," David said dryly. "We, ah, had some words over that."
Joe grinned. "Never criticize Adam’s treatment of me," he advised him. "I’m still his favorite and he’s always extra-protective where I’m concerned."
David rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the warning."
"You didn’t quit the Ponderosa in a huff or anything, did you?" Joe asked as he dealt the next hand.
David could hear the unspoken questions: ‘Is this a serious fight between you two lovebirds? Should I be concerned?’
"No," David answered. "You’re not worth quitting my job over."
"Good," Joe said with a wink. "Then don’t worry—the argument with Adam will blow over."
"Yes, it will," David agreed. Then he quieted down so that he could watch the game.
He watched for almost an hour. Joe did fairly well—he’d found two men who bought most of his bluffs. That encouraged David.
David didn’t know much about poker, but he knew that you had to choose your opponents carefully. If Joe was sensible enough to play against men who weren’t as good as he was, there was hope for him.
But then Mark, one of the Ponderosa hands, strode into the saloon. Joe’s eyes lit up as he waved him to the table.
David bit his lip at that. Mark had the reputation of being a fine player—in fact, more than once he had thought about quitting his job and playing professionally.
David looked at Joe, who was smiling with delight as Mark took his seat. Apparently Joe was bored of playing against men he knew that he could best.
Three hours later, Joe’s situation had changed. All the profit he had made from the other two men was gone. Mark didn’t buy Joe’s bluffs, so Joe could only beat him when he genuinely held a better hand. And Mark could usually sense when he was beat, so he never invested much into those pots.
David kept hoping that Joe would start avoiding Mark and just play against the other two men. But no such luck.
Five hours later, the game ended. Mark was the clear winner. Joe had lost all his profit and part of the money he came in with. He was down to about twenty-five dollars.
But he took the loss in good spirits—David had to give him that.
"Why didn’t you avoid Mark?" David asked him when the other men left the table. "You were doing just fine against the other two men."
Joe grinned at him and then shook his head. "There was no challenge in beating those other two. What’s the point?"
"Well, there’s the profit you made from them," David pointed out. "You were up quite a bit."
Now it was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes. "I don’t play for the money, David. This is about—it’s about playing on the edge. It’s like—well, playing against someone as dangerous as Mark is like riding with the posse. That’s what it feels like—your blood starts pumping the same way."
David narrowed his eyes at him. "You’re playing strictly for thrills?"
Joe thought about that. "I suppose. Don’t mistake me—I know it’s serious. Heck, riding with a posse is serious too. But there’s something to be said for the excitement."
He paused and gave David his most charming smile. "I know you’re worried about the money I owe you. But I will get it back for you—it’s just a matter of time."
David gave him a hard look. "You’re wrong," he said evenly. "It’s not the money I’m worried about. In fact, you can forget that hundred dollars."
Joe’s smile stayed in place but the expression in his eyes changed. "You think I’m in over my head?"
"Yeah," David answered.
Joe grinned again. "Would you prefer that I spend all my free time riding with posses instead?"
David smiled despite himself. "No."
"Then don’t worry about me," Joe advised him.
David reached out and took hold of the deck of cards. "Care to play against me?"
Joe’s eyebrows shot up. "Sure. I’ve only got this twenty-five, though."
"It’s not about the money, remember?" David said. "I have a different wager in mind."
LINK TO PART FIVE
The Silver Coin, Part Three
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Joe smiled to himself as he tucked fifty dollars into his pocket. Every once in a while it was possible to catch older brother in a reasonable mood.
Of course, he’d had to put up with a lecture from older brother about proper money management—Adam was well aware that cash seemed to burn a hole in Joe’s pocket. But, in the end, Adam seemed more resigned than annoyed.
And the money wasn’t free. Joe had to trade his days off next week for them. Now Adam had three days off and Joe would be stuck checking all the line shacks with Hoss. Joe had hoped that such a sacrifice on his part would be worth one hundred dollars, but fifty was the most Adam would agree to.
Now should Joe apply to Hoss for another fifty? It would be nice to sit down at the poker table with an even hundred. But, in Joe’s experience, both of his brothers were never reasonable at the same time. Nah—he wouldn’t bother asking Hoss for a loan. Fifty was enough to start the night out with.
And with thought in mind, Joe strode into the barn and saddled up Cochise.
~
When Adam stepped inside the house David was still there. He was seated on the settee, engrossed in the account books that were spread out on the table in front of him.
Adam smiled as he walked up behind David and placed his hands on David’s shoulders. “How’s it coming?” he asked.
David turned his head and smiled up at him. “Pretty well,” he said. “I should have everything about this investment in order by tomorrow.”
“Good,” Adam said as he began massaging David’s shoulders. “What are your plans for next week?”
He furrowed his brow. “Nothing special, as far as I can remember.”
“Well, I’ve got three days off,” Adam informed him. “I’ve got some odds and ends to take care of in Carson City—why don’t you come along? Abby can stay here at the house so she won’t be alone in the cottage.”
David’s eyes lit up. “That sounds promising—are there good hotels in Carson City?”
“Good enough to afford us some privacy,” Adam answered with a wink.
David laughed. “Count me in, then. But how’d you get the days off? I thought you were stuck restocking the line shacks or something.”
“I was—but Little Joe is taking my place.”
“Why?” David asked, frowning a little.
Adam grinned as he walked around the settee and took a seat next to David. “Oh, he’s flat-broke again. He took fifty dollars in exchange for his days off.”
David’s mouth seemed to drop open. “You gave him fifty dollars? Adam, he’s just going to waste that at the poker tables.”
Adam shrugged. “That’ll serve him right—it’ll teach him not to part with his days off so easily.”
“No, it won’t,” David said softly. “It’ll teach him that it doesn’t matter how much he loses—he can always come running to older brother.”
Adam narrowed his eyes at his lover. “Are you trying to tell me how to handle my little brother?”
“I suspect that your little brother has a serious problem when it comes to poker,” David returned evenly. “I think—I think that you should cut him off as far as loans go, Adam. Unless you have another idea of how to handle this problem.”
“He doesn’t have a problem,” Adam snapped. “He’s a just a kid, David, who hasn’t learned to be responsible with money yet. I admit that’s a fault—but it’s not the kind of problem you’re talking about.”
But David shook his head at that. “Adam, Joe is twenty-two. He’s not a kid. And for some reason he craves the poker table even though he loses time and again. I think—I think you ought to look for a way to cure him of that habit. Or, if that’s not possible, you ought to stop making it possible for him to sit at the tables.”
Adam felt himself bristling. “David, I appreciate your concern. But if you want to avoid a fight with me, don’t dictate how I should treat my own family.”
David stiffened at that. “I thought that I was part of this family,” he said. “Joe will be my step-brother through your father’s marriage to my mother—and he’s essentially my brother-in-law through my relationship with you. Doesn’t that give me the right to concern myself?”
Adam sighed. “Yes,” he owned. “Fine, you’ve stated your concern. But I want you to stay out of it from here. You’ve pretty much been Joe’s partner in crime, David. He won’t take strictures from you gladly—and I don’t think he even deserves them.”
“I haven’t laid down any laws for Joe,” David pointed out. “I just refused him another loan. And all I’m doing now is asking you to be careful about the money you give him.”
“Well, you’re overstepping yourself,” Adam retorted.
David’s eyes were flashing now. “I see,” he said. “Well, Little Joe is my concern too, Adam, as you just admitted. If you won’t look to this problem of his, then I’ll have to—unless your Pa or Hoss is willing to step up.”
“Don’t you dare bring an accusation like this to Pa,” Adam snapped. “And leave Hoss out of it—all you’ll do is start a fight between him and Little Joe.”
“Fine, then I’ll handle this myself,” David informed him. “But it would be much better for you to say something to him—or at least watch over him. Can’t you even open your mind to the possibility that he’s addicted to poker?”
“You don’t understand Joe,” Adam said flatly. “No offense, but you haven’t been part of this family long enough.”
“I see,” David responded as he began closing up the books.
Adam swore under his breath. “I think it’d be best if you stayed here instead of coming to Carson City with me,” he said. “I can get much more work done without you distracting me.”
“Fine,” David said. “But you’d do better to spend that time restocking the line-shacks with Hoss and Joe. Maybe you need to be re-acquainted with your little brother.”
Adam took hold of David’s chin and turned his face toward his own. “Watch yourself, David. I’m not going to take orders from you about how to treat my family.”
David swatted his hand away. “I’m not giving you orders, Adam. I’m trying to point out something you may have overlooked."
He paused and took a deep breath. "I know how you feel about Little Joe—he’s your darling. And you don’t like anyone but yourself finding fault with him. Moreover, you’re so used to spoiling him and treating him like a child that it’s hard for you to take this poker problem seriously.”
“There is no problem,” Adam said again—except that he’s careless.”
“Then come into town with me tonight and watch for yourself,” David invited. “Really watch him play, I mean.”
Adam shook his head. “I’ve no intention of hovering over him like that—and I don’t expect you to, either.”
David slammed one of the books shut. “Don’t dictate to me,” he spat. “Somebody in this family has to have his eyes open.”
Adam didn’t trust himself to respond to that. He was sorely tempted to punch David in the jaw again—but he’d promised never to repeat that incident. So he stood up instead and walked upstairs without another word.
LINK TO PART FOUR
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Joe smiled to himself as he tucked fifty dollars into his pocket. Every once in a while it was possible to catch older brother in a reasonable mood.
Of course, he’d had to put up with a lecture from older brother about proper money management—Adam was well aware that cash seemed to burn a hole in Joe’s pocket. But, in the end, Adam seemed more resigned than annoyed.
And the money wasn’t free. Joe had to trade his days off next week for them. Now Adam had three days off and Joe would be stuck checking all the line shacks with Hoss. Joe had hoped that such a sacrifice on his part would be worth one hundred dollars, but fifty was the most Adam would agree to.
Now should Joe apply to Hoss for another fifty? It would be nice to sit down at the poker table with an even hundred. But, in Joe’s experience, both of his brothers were never reasonable at the same time. Nah—he wouldn’t bother asking Hoss for a loan. Fifty was enough to start the night out with.
And with thought in mind, Joe strode into the barn and saddled up Cochise.
~
When Adam stepped inside the house David was still there. He was seated on the settee, engrossed in the account books that were spread out on the table in front of him.
Adam smiled as he walked up behind David and placed his hands on David’s shoulders. “How’s it coming?” he asked.
David turned his head and smiled up at him. “Pretty well,” he said. “I should have everything about this investment in order by tomorrow.”
“Good,” Adam said as he began massaging David’s shoulders. “What are your plans for next week?”
He furrowed his brow. “Nothing special, as far as I can remember.”
“Well, I’ve got three days off,” Adam informed him. “I’ve got some odds and ends to take care of in Carson City—why don’t you come along? Abby can stay here at the house so she won’t be alone in the cottage.”
David’s eyes lit up. “That sounds promising—are there good hotels in Carson City?”
“Good enough to afford us some privacy,” Adam answered with a wink.
David laughed. “Count me in, then. But how’d you get the days off? I thought you were stuck restocking the line shacks or something.”
“I was—but Little Joe is taking my place.”
“Why?” David asked, frowning a little.
Adam grinned as he walked around the settee and took a seat next to David. “Oh, he’s flat-broke again. He took fifty dollars in exchange for his days off.”
David’s mouth seemed to drop open. “You gave him fifty dollars? Adam, he’s just going to waste that at the poker tables.”
Adam shrugged. “That’ll serve him right—it’ll teach him not to part with his days off so easily.”
“No, it won’t,” David said softly. “It’ll teach him that it doesn’t matter how much he loses—he can always come running to older brother.”
Adam narrowed his eyes at his lover. “Are you trying to tell me how to handle my little brother?”
“I suspect that your little brother has a serious problem when it comes to poker,” David returned evenly. “I think—I think that you should cut him off as far as loans go, Adam. Unless you have another idea of how to handle this problem.”
“He doesn’t have a problem,” Adam snapped. “He’s a just a kid, David, who hasn’t learned to be responsible with money yet. I admit that’s a fault—but it’s not the kind of problem you’re talking about.”
But David shook his head at that. “Adam, Joe is twenty-two. He’s not a kid. And for some reason he craves the poker table even though he loses time and again. I think—I think you ought to look for a way to cure him of that habit. Or, if that’s not possible, you ought to stop making it possible for him to sit at the tables.”
Adam felt himself bristling. “David, I appreciate your concern. But if you want to avoid a fight with me, don’t dictate how I should treat my own family.”
David stiffened at that. “I thought that I was part of this family,” he said. “Joe will be my step-brother through your father’s marriage to my mother—and he’s essentially my brother-in-law through my relationship with you. Doesn’t that give me the right to concern myself?”
Adam sighed. “Yes,” he owned. “Fine, you’ve stated your concern. But I want you to stay out of it from here. You’ve pretty much been Joe’s partner in crime, David. He won’t take strictures from you gladly—and I don’t think he even deserves them.”
“I haven’t laid down any laws for Joe,” David pointed out. “I just refused him another loan. And all I’m doing now is asking you to be careful about the money you give him.”
“Well, you’re overstepping yourself,” Adam retorted.
David’s eyes were flashing now. “I see,” he said. “Well, Little Joe is my concern too, Adam, as you just admitted. If you won’t look to this problem of his, then I’ll have to—unless your Pa or Hoss is willing to step up.”
“Don’t you dare bring an accusation like this to Pa,” Adam snapped. “And leave Hoss out of it—all you’ll do is start a fight between him and Little Joe.”
“Fine, then I’ll handle this myself,” David informed him. “But it would be much better for you to say something to him—or at least watch over him. Can’t you even open your mind to the possibility that he’s addicted to poker?”
“You don’t understand Joe,” Adam said flatly. “No offense, but you haven’t been part of this family long enough.”
“I see,” David responded as he began closing up the books.
Adam swore under his breath. “I think it’d be best if you stayed here instead of coming to Carson City with me,” he said. “I can get much more work done without you distracting me.”
“Fine,” David said. “But you’d do better to spend that time restocking the line-shacks with Hoss and Joe. Maybe you need to be re-acquainted with your little brother.”
Adam took hold of David’s chin and turned his face toward his own. “Watch yourself, David. I’m not going to take orders from you about how to treat my family.”
David swatted his hand away. “I’m not giving you orders, Adam. I’m trying to point out something you may have overlooked."
He paused and took a deep breath. "I know how you feel about Little Joe—he’s your darling. And you don’t like anyone but yourself finding fault with him. Moreover, you’re so used to spoiling him and treating him like a child that it’s hard for you to take this poker problem seriously.”
“There is no problem,” Adam said again—except that he’s careless.”
“Then come into town with me tonight and watch for yourself,” David invited. “Really watch him play, I mean.”
Adam shook his head. “I’ve no intention of hovering over him like that—and I don’t expect you to, either.”
David slammed one of the books shut. “Don’t dictate to me,” he spat. “Somebody in this family has to have his eyes open.”
Adam didn’t trust himself to respond to that. He was sorely tempted to punch David in the jaw again—but he’d promised never to repeat that incident. So he stood up instead and walked upstairs without another word.
LINK TO PART FOUR
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The Silver Coin, Part Two
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Joe walked into the house quietly and hung up his hat and his gun belt. Then he turned toward the main room. As he had hoped, David was sitting on the settee with ledgers and checks spread out on the table in front of him.
He smiled as he watched David work for a moment—sometimes David would become so intent on the figures in front of him that he scarcely realized what was going on around him. Maybe that intensity was part of what had drawn Adam to him.
Well, that and the fact that David had been a soul desperately in need of reform. That had made him irresistible to Adam. And Adam had done a fine job reforming him, Joe thought appreciatively. Oh, Adam would always have to keep an eye on him, but Joe was pretty sure that neither man minded that.
As for himself, Joe had grown quite attached to David. He approved of the relationship between David and Adam—however horrified most folks would be if they knew—and he accepted David as essentially a brother-in-law.
"You’re still here," Joe commented, making his presence known at last.
David nodded without turning around to face him. "I won’t be going home till late tonight," he explained. "There’s a lot of work to be done on this last investment."
"The one you were talking to Adam about over coffee this morning?" Joe asked. "The one that might give Pa a stroke?"
"That’s the one," David agreed.
Joe took a seat on the arm of the settee. "From what you were saying, it sounds like you two are risking thirty thousand dollars of the Ponderosa’s money."
"That’s correct," David acknowledged as he made some notes on one of the ledgers.
"And you expect to lose that thirty thousand," Joe persisted.
David shrugged. "Probably. It’s a high risk investment—but if it happens to work, the pay-off will be enormous."
"So you’re drawing to an inside straight?"
David smiled at that. "Not quite. Our odds are a little better than that."
"Well, I’m behind you two, one hundred percent," Joe assured him warmly. "I’ll even soothe Pa for you, if this falls through."
"Thanks," David said as he turned his head and favored Joe with an appreciative wink. "But I’m still not loaning you that hundred dollars."
Little Joe groaned. "David, I’m down to my last dollar. Look," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silver coin. "Here it is. Now you’re risking thirty thousand of the Ponderosa’s money. What’s a hundred dollars out of your own wallet compared to that? I’m good for this."
"You haven’t paid me back the last hundred I loaned you," David pointed out as he turned back to the books and added up a column of figures.
"I’ve run into some bad luck at the tables, that’s all."
David put down his pen and blotted the page. Then he turned to face Joe again. "It’s not a question of luck, Joe. Poker is largely a skill game—and you lose much more often than you win."
Joe rolled his eyes. "I’ll grant that you’re good at whist and chess, David—but even you’ve admitted that you don’t know much about poker."
"I know enough not to play without learning the odds of the game inside and out," David retorted. "And I know enough to avoid players who are better than I am."
"David, I made a thousand dollars on one hand the other night," Joe pointed out.
"Then why haven’t you paid me back?"
"’Cause I had some bad luck after that—that’s all. Full houses don’t usually lose. Look, if worse comes to worse, I’ll be able to pay you back from my wages. It’ll just take a few months, that’s all."
Joe paused and then leaned in closer to David. "Besides, I know Pa doesn’t know about this investment you and Adam have planned."
"He doesn’t need to know—Adam has his permission to invest as he chooses."
"Yeah, but Adam wouldn’t make this investment if you weren’t so keen on it. If I happen to let something slip out to Pa…" he let his voice trail off.
David raised his eyebrows at that. "Blackmail?" he asked.
"Good-natured blackmail," Joe assured him. "The same kind I’d subject Adam or Hoss to—I’m just treating you like family."
"I’m touched," David responded dryly. "And I do admire your methods. I don’t think your Pa would stop the investment—but he’ll certainly have words with Adam and me."
"So you’ll loan me the money?"
David nodded. "Yes—on one condition. Don’t use it for gaming."
Joe rolled his eyes again. "No deal. There’s no reason for that stipulation."
David took his time about answering that. "I think there is, Joe," he said softly. "Look, you’re willing to blackmail me as if I were one of your brothers. Are you willing to take my advice too?"
"On most stuff," Joe said, "but not if it concerns poker."
"I’m going to give it to you anyway. Gambling can be just as addictive as alcohol or opium, " David warned him. "And you lose a lot of money at the tables, Joe—too much."
Joe gave him a look. "This from the fellow who wants to risk thirty thousand dollars of Ponderosa money."
"Thirty thousand that the ranch can stand to lose. Even if that investment falls through the Ponderosa will still have an overall profit from other investments," David returned. "If you had an overall profit to show in poker, Joe, it wouldn’t matter that you lost one particular game. But you have an overall loss—even if you happen to win one particular hand."
But Joe shook his head at that. "Spare me the lecture. Look, I’m not addicted to poker and I will show a profit eventually. Now are you loaning me the money or shall I accidentally mention the investment to Pa?"
"If you do, I’ll accidentally tell Miss Eliza that you’ve also been courting Miss Emma—or I might mention Lillian at The Silver Dollar to both of them."
Joe cringed and then gave David a look of disgust mingled with respect. "Counter blackmail? I didn’t think that even you would sink that low."
David shrugged. "I’m just treating you like family."
"Very funny," Joe retorted. Then he let out a long sigh—David had been his best hope. Now he’d have to try his luck with Adam and Hoss.
~
Joe took a seat on the porch steps. He wanted to think for a while before approaching Adam. What sort of favor could he do for older brother to soften him up? Or what kind of exchange could he cook up?
He had one idea, but it would require quite a sacrifice.
Adam was supposed to help Hoss check on the line shacks next week—a three-day job, at least. Joe, on the other hand, had a few days off.
But those days off weren’t much use without any money. So why not give Adam his days off and see to the line shacks with Hoss? That would give Adam some time to spend with David. And Adam would be so grateful that he would willingly fork over a hundred dollars. It wouldn’t even be a loan.
Joe smiled to himself. Yeah, that would answer. All that work next week would be a pain, but at least he’d be able to show his face at the poker tables tonight.
For just a moment, David’s words about how addictive poker can be came back into his head. Joe frowned a little, wondering why he was willing to give up a few days off just to get his hands on enough money to gamble with.
But he brushed that thought aside. There was nothing wrong with enjoying himself at the card tables. Besides, David was the last one to talk. As far as Joe was concerned, there was no difference between the risks he took at poker and the risks David took with investments.
And with that thought in mind, Joe pushed himself up off the steps and went in search of Adam.
LINK TO PART THREE
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Link to Part One
~
Joe walked into the house quietly and hung up his hat and his gun belt. Then he turned toward the main room. As he had hoped, David was sitting on the settee with ledgers and checks spread out on the table in front of him.
He smiled as he watched David work for a moment—sometimes David would become so intent on the figures in front of him that he scarcely realized what was going on around him. Maybe that intensity was part of what had drawn Adam to him.
Well, that and the fact that David had been a soul desperately in need of reform. That had made him irresistible to Adam. And Adam had done a fine job reforming him, Joe thought appreciatively. Oh, Adam would always have to keep an eye on him, but Joe was pretty sure that neither man minded that.
As for himself, Joe had grown quite attached to David. He approved of the relationship between David and Adam—however horrified most folks would be if they knew—and he accepted David as essentially a brother-in-law.
"You’re still here," Joe commented, making his presence known at last.
David nodded without turning around to face him. "I won’t be going home till late tonight," he explained. "There’s a lot of work to be done on this last investment."
"The one you were talking to Adam about over coffee this morning?" Joe asked. "The one that might give Pa a stroke?"
"That’s the one," David agreed.
Joe took a seat on the arm of the settee. "From what you were saying, it sounds like you two are risking thirty thousand dollars of the Ponderosa’s money."
"That’s correct," David acknowledged as he made some notes on one of the ledgers.
"And you expect to lose that thirty thousand," Joe persisted.
David shrugged. "Probably. It’s a high risk investment—but if it happens to work, the pay-off will be enormous."
"So you’re drawing to an inside straight?"
David smiled at that. "Not quite. Our odds are a little better than that."
"Well, I’m behind you two, one hundred percent," Joe assured him warmly. "I’ll even soothe Pa for you, if this falls through."
"Thanks," David said as he turned his head and favored Joe with an appreciative wink. "But I’m still not loaning you that hundred dollars."
Little Joe groaned. "David, I’m down to my last dollar. Look," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silver coin. "Here it is. Now you’re risking thirty thousand of the Ponderosa’s money. What’s a hundred dollars out of your own wallet compared to that? I’m good for this."
"You haven’t paid me back the last hundred I loaned you," David pointed out as he turned back to the books and added up a column of figures.
"I’ve run into some bad luck at the tables, that’s all."
David put down his pen and blotted the page. Then he turned to face Joe again. "It’s not a question of luck, Joe. Poker is largely a skill game—and you lose much more often than you win."
Joe rolled his eyes. "I’ll grant that you’re good at whist and chess, David—but even you’ve admitted that you don’t know much about poker."
"I know enough not to play without learning the odds of the game inside and out," David retorted. "And I know enough to avoid players who are better than I am."
"David, I made a thousand dollars on one hand the other night," Joe pointed out.
"Then why haven’t you paid me back?"
"’Cause I had some bad luck after that—that’s all. Full houses don’t usually lose. Look, if worse comes to worse, I’ll be able to pay you back from my wages. It’ll just take a few months, that’s all."
Joe paused and then leaned in closer to David. "Besides, I know Pa doesn’t know about this investment you and Adam have planned."
"He doesn’t need to know—Adam has his permission to invest as he chooses."
"Yeah, but Adam wouldn’t make this investment if you weren’t so keen on it. If I happen to let something slip out to Pa…" he let his voice trail off.
David raised his eyebrows at that. "Blackmail?" he asked.
"Good-natured blackmail," Joe assured him. "The same kind I’d subject Adam or Hoss to—I’m just treating you like family."
"I’m touched," David responded dryly. "And I do admire your methods. I don’t think your Pa would stop the investment—but he’ll certainly have words with Adam and me."
"So you’ll loan me the money?"
David nodded. "Yes—on one condition. Don’t use it for gaming."
Joe rolled his eyes again. "No deal. There’s no reason for that stipulation."
David took his time about answering that. "I think there is, Joe," he said softly. "Look, you’re willing to blackmail me as if I were one of your brothers. Are you willing to take my advice too?"
"On most stuff," Joe said, "but not if it concerns poker."
"I’m going to give it to you anyway. Gambling can be just as addictive as alcohol or opium, " David warned him. "And you lose a lot of money at the tables, Joe—too much."
Joe gave him a look. "This from the fellow who wants to risk thirty thousand dollars of Ponderosa money."
"Thirty thousand that the ranch can stand to lose. Even if that investment falls through the Ponderosa will still have an overall profit from other investments," David returned. "If you had an overall profit to show in poker, Joe, it wouldn’t matter that you lost one particular game. But you have an overall loss—even if you happen to win one particular hand."
But Joe shook his head at that. "Spare me the lecture. Look, I’m not addicted to poker and I will show a profit eventually. Now are you loaning me the money or shall I accidentally mention the investment to Pa?"
"If you do, I’ll accidentally tell Miss Eliza that you’ve also been courting Miss Emma—or I might mention Lillian at The Silver Dollar to both of them."
Joe cringed and then gave David a look of disgust mingled with respect. "Counter blackmail? I didn’t think that even you would sink that low."
David shrugged. "I’m just treating you like family."
"Very funny," Joe retorted. Then he let out a long sigh—David had been his best hope. Now he’d have to try his luck with Adam and Hoss.
~
Joe took a seat on the porch steps. He wanted to think for a while before approaching Adam. What sort of favor could he do for older brother to soften him up? Or what kind of exchange could he cook up?
He had one idea, but it would require quite a sacrifice.
Adam was supposed to help Hoss check on the line shacks next week—a three-day job, at least. Joe, on the other hand, had a few days off.
But those days off weren’t much use without any money. So why not give Adam his days off and see to the line shacks with Hoss? That would give Adam some time to spend with David. And Adam would be so grateful that he would willingly fork over a hundred dollars. It wouldn’t even be a loan.
Joe smiled to himself. Yeah, that would answer. All that work next week would be a pain, but at least he’d be able to show his face at the poker tables tonight.
For just a moment, David’s words about how addictive poker can be came back into his head. Joe frowned a little, wondering why he was willing to give up a few days off just to get his hands on enough money to gamble with.
But he brushed that thought aside. There was nothing wrong with enjoying himself at the card tables. Besides, David was the last one to talk. As far as Joe was concerned, there was no difference between the risks he took at poker and the risks David took with investments.
And with that thought in mind, Joe pushed himself up off the steps and went in search of Adam.
LINK TO PART THREE
The Silver Coin, Part One
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This story picks up right where The New Hand left off. Joe is becoming more and more attached to the poker tables--and David Griffin is the only one who notices. Even Adam is determined to make excuses for the kid...
~
David took off his shoes and then stretched himself out on Adam’s bed. Any moment now Adam would be appearing. Monday afternoons were the perfect time for romantic assignations—even Hop Sing was out of the house.
It wasn’t that Ben, Hoss, Joe and Hop Sing didn’t know what was going on. It was just nice to be assured of privacy.
David smiled as he put his hands behind his head. Of course, he would need to soothe Adam’s ruffled feathers a bit before they moved onto romance. Adam had been a bit sore over the Cunningham investment. And he hadn’t bought David’s tongue-in-cheek story about misplacing a decimal point.
Now for the important question: should he charm Adam out of his anger—or should he allow Adam to, ah, correct him?
Charming Adam out of his anger was always an enjoyable challenge. But on the other hand, David rather liked seeing Adam in his tyrannical, correcting mode. And, to own the truth, he didn’t mind being corrected.
Of course, there was a third option. He could defend himself and draw Adam into a hard-fought wrestling match that could end quite satisfactorily in bed.
He was still weighing his options when the door opened and Adam appeared on the threshold. David watched him fold his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorframe.
"Make yourself at home," Adam said wryly, raising his eyebrows at David.
David grinned. "As you can see, I already have. Still sore about that misplaced decimal?"
"Not as sore as your hide is about to be," Adam informed him.
Ah, so Adam was likely to be quite strict this time. Well, no surprise there. He didn’t seem very familiar with the concept of leniency. But that was part of his appeal.
"Come here," David invited.
Adam gave him a long, measuring look and then crossed over to the bed. An instant later the two men were sitting up, locked in an embrace.
"You’re not really sore about that investment," David said softly as they broke apart.
Adam gave David’s ear a playful bite. "No," he admitted. "I’m sore that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what you were up to."
David took a moment to leave a trail of kisses on Adam’s neck before responding. "You’re too conservative. But for your information, I didn’t make the investment yet."
Adam took David’s chin in his hand. "Then why did you allow me to think that you did?"
"I enjoy your tyrant act," David explained.
Adam rolled his eyes. "Then why did you just confess that you haven’t made the investment yet?"
David gave Adam a serious look as he placed his hands on his shoulders. "Because I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you. This investment is extremely risky, Adam—I’m the first one to admit that. But there’s no point in investing a paltry three thousand dollars. To make this risk pay off, we need at least twenty thousand. And I’d prefer to invest thirty thousand."
Adam sighed. "My Pa will have a stroke."
"True," David admitted. "But your Pa gave you permission to invest Ponderosa money as you see fit. We can afford this risk, Adam."
"Yes, we can," he agreed. Then he gave David a level look. "You really want to take this gamble, don’t you?"
"Not as badly as I want you at the moment," David assured him, "but it’s a close second."
Adam grinned. "All right…make the investment. All thirty thousand of it."
David smiled back at him. "Thank you," he said as he began unbuttoning Adam’s shirt. "Now let me show you my gratitude…"
LINK TO PART TWO
Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This story picks up right where The New Hand left off. Joe is becoming more and more attached to the poker tables--and David Griffin is the only one who notices. Even Adam is determined to make excuses for the kid...
~
David took off his shoes and then stretched himself out on Adam’s bed. Any moment now Adam would be appearing. Monday afternoons were the perfect time for romantic assignations—even Hop Sing was out of the house.
It wasn’t that Ben, Hoss, Joe and Hop Sing didn’t know what was going on. It was just nice to be assured of privacy.
David smiled as he put his hands behind his head. Of course, he would need to soothe Adam’s ruffled feathers a bit before they moved onto romance. Adam had been a bit sore over the Cunningham investment. And he hadn’t bought David’s tongue-in-cheek story about misplacing a decimal point.
Now for the important question: should he charm Adam out of his anger—or should he allow Adam to, ah, correct him?
Charming Adam out of his anger was always an enjoyable challenge. But on the other hand, David rather liked seeing Adam in his tyrannical, correcting mode. And, to own the truth, he didn’t mind being corrected.
Of course, there was a third option. He could defend himself and draw Adam into a hard-fought wrestling match that could end quite satisfactorily in bed.
He was still weighing his options when the door opened and Adam appeared on the threshold. David watched him fold his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorframe.
"Make yourself at home," Adam said wryly, raising his eyebrows at David.
David grinned. "As you can see, I already have. Still sore about that misplaced decimal?"
"Not as sore as your hide is about to be," Adam informed him.
Ah, so Adam was likely to be quite strict this time. Well, no surprise there. He didn’t seem very familiar with the concept of leniency. But that was part of his appeal.
"Come here," David invited.
Adam gave him a long, measuring look and then crossed over to the bed. An instant later the two men were sitting up, locked in an embrace.
"You’re not really sore about that investment," David said softly as they broke apart.
Adam gave David’s ear a playful bite. "No," he admitted. "I’m sore that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what you were up to."
David took a moment to leave a trail of kisses on Adam’s neck before responding. "You’re too conservative. But for your information, I didn’t make the investment yet."
Adam took David’s chin in his hand. "Then why did you allow me to think that you did?"
"I enjoy your tyrant act," David explained.
Adam rolled his eyes. "Then why did you just confess that you haven’t made the investment yet?"
David gave Adam a serious look as he placed his hands on his shoulders. "Because I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you. This investment is extremely risky, Adam—I’m the first one to admit that. But there’s no point in investing a paltry three thousand dollars. To make this risk pay off, we need at least twenty thousand. And I’d prefer to invest thirty thousand."
Adam sighed. "My Pa will have a stroke."
"True," David admitted. "But your Pa gave you permission to invest Ponderosa money as you see fit. We can afford this risk, Adam."
"Yes, we can," he agreed. Then he gave David a level look. "You really want to take this gamble, don’t you?"
"Not as badly as I want you at the moment," David assured him, "but it’s a close second."
Adam grinned. "All right…make the investment. All thirty thousand of it."
David smiled back at him. "Thank you," he said as he began unbuttoning Adam’s shirt. "Now let me show you my gratitude…"
LINK TO PART TWO
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Clip of the Day
Hehe--ever wonder what your World of Warcraft toons do with their time off? Play World of Workcraft, of course...
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WeGame.com - WoW Videos
Feline Desperation, Part Four
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Fan-Fiction (Batman)
Rating: R
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Alfred found me a few hours later. I was working out in the gym I had installed in Wayne Manor. He let himself in and then coughed to get my attention. I glanced at him and noticed that he was looking even more disapproving than usual.
Normally I don’t let anything distract me from my work-out—the routines are as much about focusing my mind as they are about sculpting my muscles and quickening my reflexes. But the concern on Alfred’s face told me that I’d have to make an exception today.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I jabbed, bare-fisted, at the punching bag.
“Miss Kyle has taken to exploring the house, sir,” he said.
I frowned, but I wasn’t too concerned. It was unlikely that she’d stumble into the cave below, down by the foundations, where I kept all the equipment of my alter ego. There was an entrance to the cave from the house, but it was well hidden in my study.
I also doubted that she was rummaging through my valuables. My research earlier today hadn’t cleared her of moonlighting as the Catwoman, but somehow I couldn’t see her robbing Wayne Manor. Not while she was staying here as my guest, at any event.
“She’s not prowling around my study, is she?” I asked just to be safe.
“No, sir,” Alfred answered. “She’s prowling around the master bedroom.”
I stopped and stared at him, almost letting the punching bag hit me in the head. But my reflexes kicked in at the last second. I dodged the bag and stepped aside. Alfred, meanwhile, calmly picked up a towel and handed it to me. I took a few seconds to wipe the sweat off my face and chest—but then I tossed the towel aside and stormed out of the room.
I heard Alfred follow behind me. “Sir, would it be better if I saw to this matter?”
“No!” I barked. “I’ll take care of this.”
Alfred’s footfall ceased as I reached the main staircase. I took the steps two at a time and almost ran down the long hallway. The master bedroom—and every room in that wing—had been locked up for ages. I hadn’t been inside them since…well, it didn’t matter how long it’d been.
I found Selina standing in the center of the master bedroom—my parents’ room—drinking it in. I stopped in the doorway and almost gasped.
At some point Alfred must have tidied up in here. My mother’s make up no longer haphazardly littered her dresser. My father’s discarded ties weren’t lying on the back of his chair. But, apart from that, everything was just as I remembered it.
Except for Selina’s presence.
She turned toward me and looked me over. She didn’t seem surprised to see me and she didn’t look like she was suffering any pangs of guilt for breaking in. She was standing there as if I’d invited her to invade my memories.
I forced myself to take a deep breath. “What are you doing in here?” I demanded.
I had tried to keep my voice soft, but something in my tone must have frightened her. She lost that casual expression she’s so good at feigning as I caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes.
“This—this place feels like a mausoleum,” she managed. “How long has it been since you’ve aired it out?”
“I don’t use the rooms in this wing,” I said. “That’s why the door was locked.”
She had the grace to blush at that. “The lock must have rusted,” she said, trying for a nonchalant shrug. “The door opened easily.”
I took another deep breath. “Go pack your things,” I ordered. “Alfred will drive you home in a few minutes.”
“Didn’t we just go through this?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows.
“I want you out of here, Selina.”
She narrowed her eyes at that. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I informed her. “But I think it’d be best if you left for now.”
I watched her face go white. But that didn’t last long—she had too much pride to pretend to be heart broken. She gave me a scornful look instead.
“I’m sorry for—for coming in here without your permission,” she began.
“Then why did you?” I asked, cutting her off.
She gave me another slight shrug. “You know what they say: curiosity killed the cat. But don’t think you’re the only one with a hard luck story, Bruce. Someday you’ll grow up enough to realize that.”
And with that she brushed past me and strode out of the room, leaving me to stand there fuming.
Genre: Fan-Fiction (Batman)
Rating: R
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Alfred found me a few hours later. I was working out in the gym I had installed in Wayne Manor. He let himself in and then coughed to get my attention. I glanced at him and noticed that he was looking even more disapproving than usual.
Normally I don’t let anything distract me from my work-out—the routines are as much about focusing my mind as they are about sculpting my muscles and quickening my reflexes. But the concern on Alfred’s face told me that I’d have to make an exception today.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I jabbed, bare-fisted, at the punching bag.
“Miss Kyle has taken to exploring the house, sir,” he said.
I frowned, but I wasn’t too concerned. It was unlikely that she’d stumble into the cave below, down by the foundations, where I kept all the equipment of my alter ego. There was an entrance to the cave from the house, but it was well hidden in my study.
I also doubted that she was rummaging through my valuables. My research earlier today hadn’t cleared her of moonlighting as the Catwoman, but somehow I couldn’t see her robbing Wayne Manor. Not while she was staying here as my guest, at any event.
“She’s not prowling around my study, is she?” I asked just to be safe.
“No, sir,” Alfred answered. “She’s prowling around the master bedroom.”
I stopped and stared at him, almost letting the punching bag hit me in the head. But my reflexes kicked in at the last second. I dodged the bag and stepped aside. Alfred, meanwhile, calmly picked up a towel and handed it to me. I took a few seconds to wipe the sweat off my face and chest—but then I tossed the towel aside and stormed out of the room.
I heard Alfred follow behind me. “Sir, would it be better if I saw to this matter?”
“No!” I barked. “I’ll take care of this.”
Alfred’s footfall ceased as I reached the main staircase. I took the steps two at a time and almost ran down the long hallway. The master bedroom—and every room in that wing—had been locked up for ages. I hadn’t been inside them since…well, it didn’t matter how long it’d been.
I found Selina standing in the center of the master bedroom—my parents’ room—drinking it in. I stopped in the doorway and almost gasped.
At some point Alfred must have tidied up in here. My mother’s make up no longer haphazardly littered her dresser. My father’s discarded ties weren’t lying on the back of his chair. But, apart from that, everything was just as I remembered it.
Except for Selina’s presence.
She turned toward me and looked me over. She didn’t seem surprised to see me and she didn’t look like she was suffering any pangs of guilt for breaking in. She was standing there as if I’d invited her to invade my memories.
I forced myself to take a deep breath. “What are you doing in here?” I demanded.
I had tried to keep my voice soft, but something in my tone must have frightened her. She lost that casual expression she’s so good at feigning as I caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes.
“This—this place feels like a mausoleum,” she managed. “How long has it been since you’ve aired it out?”
“I don’t use the rooms in this wing,” I said. “That’s why the door was locked.”
She had the grace to blush at that. “The lock must have rusted,” she said, trying for a nonchalant shrug. “The door opened easily.”
I took another deep breath. “Go pack your things,” I ordered. “Alfred will drive you home in a few minutes.”
“Didn’t we just go through this?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows.
“I want you out of here, Selina.”
She narrowed her eyes at that. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I informed her. “But I think it’d be best if you left for now.”
I watched her face go white. But that didn’t last long—she had too much pride to pretend to be heart broken. She gave me a scornful look instead.
“I’m sorry for—for coming in here without your permission,” she began.
“Then why did you?” I asked, cutting her off.
She gave me another slight shrug. “You know what they say: curiosity killed the cat. But don’t think you’re the only one with a hard luck story, Bruce. Someday you’ll grow up enough to realize that.”
And with that she brushed past me and strode out of the room, leaving me to stand there fuming.
The New Hand, Part 109
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
The whole family was together for the Sabbath meal on Friday night. Abby relished the feeling of closeness as she lit the Shabbat candles and said the blessings over them.
The feeling of closeness grew as she watched David ritually wash his hands with the special pitcher and basin and then fall silent as he passed the items along to Adam.
That’s how it worked—once you washed your hands you were silent until the Shabbat meal was served. So the lively conversation around the table died down as each family member passed the basin and pitcher along.
But the conversation started up again with the food—and this time there were no quarrels hanging over the house. David and Josephine had made their peace. Ben seemed content with both his fiancée and his step-son to be. Adam, Hoss and Little Joe were all joking together and sharing memories of some long-ago event that seem to have happened when Joe was a mere five year old.
Abby smiled as she listened to the various conversations. She hoped that the Shabbat meal would become a routine event for all of them—a time for the whole family to set aside any differences and remember what drew them all together.
But perhaps she and David would start hosting it—they would keep their cottage kosher, after all. And, ideally, a Shabbat meal should be kosher.
They would still have to serve fish though, she reminded herself. Joe’s faith didn’t allow him to eat meat on Friday nights. And Abby could certainly understand dietary restrictions.
She started thinking about how they could enlarge the cottage a bit so that they could comfortably fit everyone for Shabbat meals. Adam already had some plans for adding a room or two—perhaps she should speak with him…
But she set that thought aside. There would be more than enough time to worry about that sort of thing after Shabbat. For now it was time to enjoy the peace that seemed to envelope the house.
Especially, she thought wryly, since that peace wasn’t likely to last.
There were already several storms brewing on the horizon. Josephine’s decision to convert to Christianity was bound to cause more problems between her and David, even if they had declared a truce for the time being.
And Abby herself was likely to fight with David soon—he was insisting that she return to San Francisco to see her grandfather and the rest of her family. But she wasn’t ready to do that yet. She wasn’t ready to face or acknowledge her father’s death.
David had pointed out that if she waited too long, her grandfather might also pass on. That was a valid argument, but it hadn’t changed Abby’s feelings. She needed time.
And Ben and Josephine were likely to have a tempestuous marriage once the novelty of being newly-weds wore off. Abby just hoped that their love for one another proved stronger than any disagreements.
Well, at least the love between Adam and David seemed firm and unbreakable. As was the love between all four Cartwrights. Some things in this family were completely stable.
Abby closed her eyes for just a moment and took a deep breath. Then she whispered a prayer, thanking God for bringing them all to this moment--and asking that this whole extended family would be together for many Shabbat meals to come.
~The End~
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
The whole family was together for the Sabbath meal on Friday night. Abby relished the feeling of closeness as she lit the Shabbat candles and said the blessings over them.
The feeling of closeness grew as she watched David ritually wash his hands with the special pitcher and basin and then fall silent as he passed the items along to Adam.
That’s how it worked—once you washed your hands you were silent until the Shabbat meal was served. So the lively conversation around the table died down as each family member passed the basin and pitcher along.
But the conversation started up again with the food—and this time there were no quarrels hanging over the house. David and Josephine had made their peace. Ben seemed content with both his fiancée and his step-son to be. Adam, Hoss and Little Joe were all joking together and sharing memories of some long-ago event that seem to have happened when Joe was a mere five year old.
Abby smiled as she listened to the various conversations. She hoped that the Shabbat meal would become a routine event for all of them—a time for the whole family to set aside any differences and remember what drew them all together.
But perhaps she and David would start hosting it—they would keep their cottage kosher, after all. And, ideally, a Shabbat meal should be kosher.
They would still have to serve fish though, she reminded herself. Joe’s faith didn’t allow him to eat meat on Friday nights. And Abby could certainly understand dietary restrictions.
She started thinking about how they could enlarge the cottage a bit so that they could comfortably fit everyone for Shabbat meals. Adam already had some plans for adding a room or two—perhaps she should speak with him…
But she set that thought aside. There would be more than enough time to worry about that sort of thing after Shabbat. For now it was time to enjoy the peace that seemed to envelope the house.
Especially, she thought wryly, since that peace wasn’t likely to last.
There were already several storms brewing on the horizon. Josephine’s decision to convert to Christianity was bound to cause more problems between her and David, even if they had declared a truce for the time being.
And Abby herself was likely to fight with David soon—he was insisting that she return to San Francisco to see her grandfather and the rest of her family. But she wasn’t ready to do that yet. She wasn’t ready to face or acknowledge her father’s death.
David had pointed out that if she waited too long, her grandfather might also pass on. That was a valid argument, but it hadn’t changed Abby’s feelings. She needed time.
And Ben and Josephine were likely to have a tempestuous marriage once the novelty of being newly-weds wore off. Abby just hoped that their love for one another proved stronger than any disagreements.
Well, at least the love between Adam and David seemed firm and unbreakable. As was the love between all four Cartwrights. Some things in this family were completely stable.
Abby closed her eyes for just a moment and took a deep breath. Then she whispered a prayer, thanking God for bringing them all to this moment--and asking that this whole extended family would be together for many Shabbat meals to come.
~The End~
The New Hand, Part 108
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
While Hoss was outside working the anvil, Joe was taxing his brains inside. He stared down at the account books, trying to make sense of the numbers. He hated accounting, but he knew that he should have at least a general idea of how the Ponderosa books worked. And to that end, he had asked David to be his teacher.
David was standing up behind him, leaning over him as he pointed out all the things that the books kept track of—and why the Ponderosa could occasionally afford to go into the red. That seemed dangerous to Joe, but David assured him it was a normal business practice. Besides, it was always temporary.
They’d been at the books for over an hour now. Joe had just about had his fill.
“I’m losing you, aren’t I?” David asked, giving him a measuring look.
Joe grinned. “Yeah—but don’t feel bad. I’ve done better with you than I’ve ever done with Adam. I don’t make it past half an hour with him.”
“Well, that’s not your fault or Adam’s,” David assured him. “Not everyone’s cut out for accounting.”
“I’m certainly not,” Joe agreed as he closed each of the books shut. “Want to ride into town for a drink? Or are you, ah, too sore for the saddle?”
David glared down at him. “Care to elaborate on that? I wouldn’t expect a nice boy like you to have the first notion of what might me sore.”
Joe almost choked at that. “I, uh, wasn’t referring to—to any, ah, strenuous nighttime activities,” he managed as he felt himself blush. “I just figured that Adam gave you a good talking to, as our Pa would say.”
That drew an appreciative, if reluctant, grin from David. “Been spying? Adam and I were excessively discreet.”
“I don’t need to spy,” Joe retorted. “I know my brother, I know how you test his patience and I know that you haven’t sat down once in the past hour. Or all day, as far as I remember. Besides, I grew up with first-hand experience of Adam’s hand and belt—so believe me, I feel your pain.”
David grinned outright at that. “Ever allowed a lover to chastise you?” he asked.
“Only one,” Joe answered, grinning back. “My first, in fact. It was all in good fun.”
“Who was she?”
“Miss Julia Bulette—remind me to tell you about her some time.”
“Tell me about her over a glass of beer,” David invited. “I can stand the ride into town.”
“Good,” Joe said as he pushed his chair back and stood up. “Let’s grab Hoss and bring him along—you two need to spend some more time together.”
~
Hoss downed his second beer as Joe continued to reminisce about Miss Julia. They were sitting at a back table in the Silver Dollar, where they could talk frankly without much fear of being overheard. There was plenty of cover noise, so to speak.
To think of the things that Joe had learned from Julia! Hoss shook his head. He had no idea that Joe’s education at her hands had been so extensive.
Hoss learned a lot about David too. Judging by Joe’s teasing, Adam must have taken David to task over something—probably the fact that David was such a devil to everyone while he was recovering from the gunshot. And David had allowed Adam to get away with it—it wasn’t as if he couldn’t hold his own against Adam, after all. His shoulder was mostly healed now.
But apparently David enjoyed Adam’s bossiness, at least on occasion. Somehow that fact made Hoss feel better. For one thing, if David could put up with Adam’s bossiness, he must really be in love with him. And for another, Hoss felt like he could trust David now. Joe had said that Adam could keep David in line—now Hoss had cause to believe it.
So it was a good night, all things considered. Hoss even found himself opening up to David and recounting some of his own romantic triumphs and disasters. David laughed at some of the stories, sympathized at others and generally acted the part of a step-brother.
Or a brother-in-law. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so hard to think of David that way anymore.
LINK TO PART 109
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
While Hoss was outside working the anvil, Joe was taxing his brains inside. He stared down at the account books, trying to make sense of the numbers. He hated accounting, but he knew that he should have at least a general idea of how the Ponderosa books worked. And to that end, he had asked David to be his teacher.
David was standing up behind him, leaning over him as he pointed out all the things that the books kept track of—and why the Ponderosa could occasionally afford to go into the red. That seemed dangerous to Joe, but David assured him it was a normal business practice. Besides, it was always temporary.
They’d been at the books for over an hour now. Joe had just about had his fill.
“I’m losing you, aren’t I?” David asked, giving him a measuring look.
Joe grinned. “Yeah—but don’t feel bad. I’ve done better with you than I’ve ever done with Adam. I don’t make it past half an hour with him.”
“Well, that’s not your fault or Adam’s,” David assured him. “Not everyone’s cut out for accounting.”
“I’m certainly not,” Joe agreed as he closed each of the books shut. “Want to ride into town for a drink? Or are you, ah, too sore for the saddle?”
David glared down at him. “Care to elaborate on that? I wouldn’t expect a nice boy like you to have the first notion of what might me sore.”
Joe almost choked at that. “I, uh, wasn’t referring to—to any, ah, strenuous nighttime activities,” he managed as he felt himself blush. “I just figured that Adam gave you a good talking to, as our Pa would say.”
That drew an appreciative, if reluctant, grin from David. “Been spying? Adam and I were excessively discreet.”
“I don’t need to spy,” Joe retorted. “I know my brother, I know how you test his patience and I know that you haven’t sat down once in the past hour. Or all day, as far as I remember. Besides, I grew up with first-hand experience of Adam’s hand and belt—so believe me, I feel your pain.”
David grinned outright at that. “Ever allowed a lover to chastise you?” he asked.
“Only one,” Joe answered, grinning back. “My first, in fact. It was all in good fun.”
“Who was she?”
“Miss Julia Bulette—remind me to tell you about her some time.”
“Tell me about her over a glass of beer,” David invited. “I can stand the ride into town.”
“Good,” Joe said as he pushed his chair back and stood up. “Let’s grab Hoss and bring him along—you two need to spend some more time together.”
~
Hoss downed his second beer as Joe continued to reminisce about Miss Julia. They were sitting at a back table in the Silver Dollar, where they could talk frankly without much fear of being overheard. There was plenty of cover noise, so to speak.
To think of the things that Joe had learned from Julia! Hoss shook his head. He had no idea that Joe’s education at her hands had been so extensive.
Hoss learned a lot about David too. Judging by Joe’s teasing, Adam must have taken David to task over something—probably the fact that David was such a devil to everyone while he was recovering from the gunshot. And David had allowed Adam to get away with it—it wasn’t as if he couldn’t hold his own against Adam, after all. His shoulder was mostly healed now.
But apparently David enjoyed Adam’s bossiness, at least on occasion. Somehow that fact made Hoss feel better. For one thing, if David could put up with Adam’s bossiness, he must really be in love with him. And for another, Hoss felt like he could trust David now. Joe had said that Adam could keep David in line—now Hoss had cause to believe it.
So it was a good night, all things considered. Hoss even found himself opening up to David and recounting some of his own romantic triumphs and disasters. David laughed at some of the stories, sympathized at others and generally acted the part of a step-brother.
Or a brother-in-law. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so hard to think of David that way anymore.
LINK TO PART 109
The New Hand, Part 107
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Adam finally made good his threat to chastise David—and David, for his part, decided to let him get away with it. There was something irresistible about Adam when he was in one of his tyrannical-correcting moods, so David didn’t even put up a fight.
Well, not much of one. He couldn’t let Adam get away with his ‘masterful’ act without some token resistance and a brief wrestling match had it's charms. In fact, he might have put up a little more resistance if he had realized just how strict Adam would be. But that was the price for falling in love with such a delectable tyrant.
David leaned up against Adam on the bed afterward, resting his head against Adam’s shoulder. “I suppose I deserved that,” he mumbled.
“Every stroke,” Adam agreed, giving David’s backside another firm smack for good measure. “You were impossible to all of us while you were recovering.”
“I was always an irritable patient,” David owned.
“So I’ve heard,” Adam said as he kissed the top of David’s head and pulled him closer to him. “Oh, Lord—I’m going to miss this,” he whispered.
David bit back a grin. “Chastising me?”
“No,” Adam answered in a voice that plainly said he was rolling his eyes. “But I’m going to miss sharing my room with you.”
David sighed. It was Wednesday night: the start of his last official week as a guest on the Ponderosa. By next Wednesday morning he and Abby would be moving into the cottage.
“It won’t be the same,” he admitted. “But we’ll always make time for some privacy, Adam. And we’ll have business trips to see to.”
“True enough,” Adam agreed, stroking his hair with an almost unbearable tenderness. “But you’re right—it won’t be the same.”
David pushed himself up a little and stared down hungrily at Adam. “Then we’d best make the most of the time we have.”
~
Hoss took a deep breath as he set his tools down and stepped away from the anvil. It was hot this Thursday afternoon—summer was almost here. He was almost sorry now that he and Joe hadn’t gone to San Francisco. At least the fog and the rain kept everything cool there.
Of course, they still meant to go. It’s just that cutting a deal with Gregory Miller had changed things a bit.
Joe still had a plan, though. Even with Gregory Miller’s testimony, it was going to be tough to nail Ed Niles for attempting to have David murdered. But now that Niles was awaiting trial, the buzzards were beginning to circle him. They had caught a whiff of weakness and they meant to close in.
Various members of the business community were bringing others charges against Ed Niles—and there was no doubt that some of them would stick. Niles had made plenty of enemies.
And Joe thought they had one more resource—a girl named Marty. Hoss wasn’t sure about approaching this girl, though.
This Marty was Ed Niles’ illegitimate daughter—probably. Well, Niles acknowledged her, at any rate. Joe didn’t think Marty knew anything explicit about the attempted murder, but she might well have heard things from Niles. And she may have picked up bits and pieces here and there about her father’s business practices.
Marty had been a dear friend and something of a little sister to Adam. But how did she feel about Adam now? That’s what Hoss wondered. After all, thanks to the Cartwrights, Ed Niles was now charged with trying to arrange the murder of David Griffin. The man could hang for a thing like that.
He probably wouldn’t hang—like as not he had enough influence to prevent that. Nonetheless, Hoss couldn’t see the man’s daughter being happy about his circumstances.
But things were even more complicated than that. Marty had been secretly married to Gregory Miller—the would-be assassin. True, they were divorced now, but still…
Hoss knew that Adam had written at length to Marty and planned a trip out to San Francisco to talk to her face to face. But Adam had no intention of dragging her into the trial.
Hoss shook his head. Little Joe was convinced that they could use Marty’s help in bringing Niles to justice—and that she would voluntarily lend them aid.
But Joe had only told this to Hoss. He hadn’t confided in Adam, Pa or David yet.
Hoss sighed as he took off the heavy leather apron he was wearing. Then he made his way over to the trough to splash some cool water on his face. Only time would tell how Joe’s scheme would work out—and only time would tell if they really would get Niles.
Hoss stood over the trough for a long moment, trying to puzzle things out. It seemed that his world had gotten twisted and convoluted in the last little while. And it wasn’t just about Ed Niles and Gregory Miller.
There was Adam and David, for starters. Well, maybe that wasn’t as bad as Hoss first thought. It still seemed unnatural, but the two men were well matched as friends. Hoss would just have to view their relationship as a more intense friendship than usual; that was all.
And then there was Joe’s relationship with David. Those two were getting to be the best of friends themselves. Hoss knew for a fact that Joe intended to confide in David next about Marty—he was hoping to have David in his camp before approaching Adam.
Hoss wasn’t sure how he felt about this friendship between Joe and David. The pair of them were often up to some good-natured mischief together and that had Hoss feeling jealous. After all, he’d always been Little Joe’s partner in crime.
Well, ok—he hadn’t always been Joe’s willing partner in crime. But that was beside the point.
Hoss sighed again. He knew what the problem was: Joe had accepted David as a brother-in-law and Hoss couldn’t quite bring himself to do that. Maybe once he really started seeing David as family, he would stop feeling jealous.
Of course, in another sense, David was family. Pa was going to marry David’s mother, after all. That didn’t bother Hoss—he was happy for his father. And he liked Josephine. She would keep Pa on his toes.
Hoss felt his mood lighten somewhat. Maybe he couldn’t quite see David as his brother-in-law, but he could see David as a step-brother. And that amounted to the same thing. Family was family.
Hoss sighed once more—this time in relief. Maybe now he wouldn’t mind seeing Joe and David get on so well.
LINK TO PART 108
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
Adam finally made good his threat to chastise David—and David, for his part, decided to let him get away with it. There was something irresistible about Adam when he was in one of his tyrannical-correcting moods, so David didn’t even put up a fight.
Well, not much of one. He couldn’t let Adam get away with his ‘masterful’ act without some token resistance and a brief wrestling match had it's charms. In fact, he might have put up a little more resistance if he had realized just how strict Adam would be. But that was the price for falling in love with such a delectable tyrant.
David leaned up against Adam on the bed afterward, resting his head against Adam’s shoulder. “I suppose I deserved that,” he mumbled.
“Every stroke,” Adam agreed, giving David’s backside another firm smack for good measure. “You were impossible to all of us while you were recovering.”
“I was always an irritable patient,” David owned.
“So I’ve heard,” Adam said as he kissed the top of David’s head and pulled him closer to him. “Oh, Lord—I’m going to miss this,” he whispered.
David bit back a grin. “Chastising me?”
“No,” Adam answered in a voice that plainly said he was rolling his eyes. “But I’m going to miss sharing my room with you.”
David sighed. It was Wednesday night: the start of his last official week as a guest on the Ponderosa. By next Wednesday morning he and Abby would be moving into the cottage.
“It won’t be the same,” he admitted. “But we’ll always make time for some privacy, Adam. And we’ll have business trips to see to.”
“True enough,” Adam agreed, stroking his hair with an almost unbearable tenderness. “But you’re right—it won’t be the same.”
David pushed himself up a little and stared down hungrily at Adam. “Then we’d best make the most of the time we have.”
~
Hoss took a deep breath as he set his tools down and stepped away from the anvil. It was hot this Thursday afternoon—summer was almost here. He was almost sorry now that he and Joe hadn’t gone to San Francisco. At least the fog and the rain kept everything cool there.
Of course, they still meant to go. It’s just that cutting a deal with Gregory Miller had changed things a bit.
Joe still had a plan, though. Even with Gregory Miller’s testimony, it was going to be tough to nail Ed Niles for attempting to have David murdered. But now that Niles was awaiting trial, the buzzards were beginning to circle him. They had caught a whiff of weakness and they meant to close in.
Various members of the business community were bringing others charges against Ed Niles—and there was no doubt that some of them would stick. Niles had made plenty of enemies.
And Joe thought they had one more resource—a girl named Marty. Hoss wasn’t sure about approaching this girl, though.
This Marty was Ed Niles’ illegitimate daughter—probably. Well, Niles acknowledged her, at any rate. Joe didn’t think Marty knew anything explicit about the attempted murder, but she might well have heard things from Niles. And she may have picked up bits and pieces here and there about her father’s business practices.
Marty had been a dear friend and something of a little sister to Adam. But how did she feel about Adam now? That’s what Hoss wondered. After all, thanks to the Cartwrights, Ed Niles was now charged with trying to arrange the murder of David Griffin. The man could hang for a thing like that.
He probably wouldn’t hang—like as not he had enough influence to prevent that. Nonetheless, Hoss couldn’t see the man’s daughter being happy about his circumstances.
But things were even more complicated than that. Marty had been secretly married to Gregory Miller—the would-be assassin. True, they were divorced now, but still…
Hoss knew that Adam had written at length to Marty and planned a trip out to San Francisco to talk to her face to face. But Adam had no intention of dragging her into the trial.
Hoss shook his head. Little Joe was convinced that they could use Marty’s help in bringing Niles to justice—and that she would voluntarily lend them aid.
But Joe had only told this to Hoss. He hadn’t confided in Adam, Pa or David yet.
Hoss sighed as he took off the heavy leather apron he was wearing. Then he made his way over to the trough to splash some cool water on his face. Only time would tell how Joe’s scheme would work out—and only time would tell if they really would get Niles.
Hoss stood over the trough for a long moment, trying to puzzle things out. It seemed that his world had gotten twisted and convoluted in the last little while. And it wasn’t just about Ed Niles and Gregory Miller.
There was Adam and David, for starters. Well, maybe that wasn’t as bad as Hoss first thought. It still seemed unnatural, but the two men were well matched as friends. Hoss would just have to view their relationship as a more intense friendship than usual; that was all.
And then there was Joe’s relationship with David. Those two were getting to be the best of friends themselves. Hoss knew for a fact that Joe intended to confide in David next about Marty—he was hoping to have David in his camp before approaching Adam.
Hoss wasn’t sure how he felt about this friendship between Joe and David. The pair of them were often up to some good-natured mischief together and that had Hoss feeling jealous. After all, he’d always been Little Joe’s partner in crime.
Well, ok—he hadn’t always been Joe’s willing partner in crime. But that was beside the point.
Hoss sighed again. He knew what the problem was: Joe had accepted David as a brother-in-law and Hoss couldn’t quite bring himself to do that. Maybe once he really started seeing David as family, he would stop feeling jealous.
Of course, in another sense, David was family. Pa was going to marry David’s mother, after all. That didn’t bother Hoss—he was happy for his father. And he liked Josephine. She would keep Pa on his toes.
Hoss felt his mood lighten somewhat. Maybe he couldn’t quite see David as his brother-in-law, but he could see David as a step-brother. And that amounted to the same thing. Family was family.
Hoss sighed once more—this time in relief. Maybe now he wouldn’t mind seeing Joe and David get on so well.
LINK TO PART 108
Monday, June 23, 2008
Clip of the Day
Gotta love this--a Batman Begins trailer recut to make the movie look like a heartwarming film centering on the father-son relationship between Alfred and Bruce. (There's nary a batsuit in sight.)
But it is a sweet relationship. And, as one commentator on YouTube pointed out, Alfred is probably the reason that Bruce Wayne didn't completely lose his mind...
The New Hand, Part 106
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
David walked into Mr. Cartwright’s church. He paused as he did so to look around. Funny, he’d never much minded being in a Christian church before—he’d been to his share of weddings and funerals and christenings and such. But it was a different matter when it was the church that your mother was planning to convert in.
Mr. Cartwright had told him that she would be here today, meeting with the minister. So David took a seat in one of the pews and waited.
He hadn’t seen his mother since she stormed out of the house on Friday. That was three days ago—it was high time to call a truce.
David wondered idly just what Mr. Cartwright had said to her. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been enough to convince his mother to come home and make amends over the Shabbat meal. So now David was waiting for her here instead.
He picked up one of the Bibles in the pew—it was a Christian Bible, of course—and thumbed through it. One passage in Mark caught his eye.
A scribe asked Jesus what he thought was the most important mitzvah—commandment, that is. He answered, “The first is, ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”
David smiled to himself. What a good Jewish answer. Hillel—a rabbi who lived about a generation before Jesus—would have been proud.
David wondered how many Christians recognized the Sh’ma when they heard it. For that’s what Jesus was quoting as his first commandment—the central proclamation of Judaism, found in Deuteronomy. Jews were used to hearing it in Hebrew, of course, but it was still the Sh'ma: Here, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one’ and so forth through loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. And, in fact, it went on from there.
The second mitzvah that Jesus quoted was from Leviticus. Another fine choice, if you wanted to sum up Judaism in two mitzvot—er, commandments.
Funny how the two religions were so close in some ways, yet miles apart in others.
He closed the Bible and put it back in its spot as he leaned back against the pew. Then he stared up ahead at the altar and the cross that hung above it.
Was that cross what really bothered him about Christianity? No, he decided. But it made him uncomfortable, for two reasons.
Firstly, the theology of the cross seemed a little too close to human sacrifice for his comfort. But he understood that it was a powerful theology, even if he didn’t agree with it. It was powerful enough to change lives and transform some fairly miserable people into saintly figures—he wouldn’t deny that.
The other reason was harder to overcome. Some Christians—and David had met a few—still referred to Jews as Christ-killers. Apparently they didn’t understand that the Romans crucified Jesus—and that precious few Jews alive in that day would ever even have heard of him. There was no point in blaming every Jew who ever existed.
He sighed as he thought of all the times he’d been preached at and told that if he didn’t become a Christian he was bound for hell. His children would have to learn to handle such comments, but David didn’t want them to hear it from their own grandmother.
In the end, that’s what bothered him about this whole conversion—the thought that his mother might turn around and try to convert her grandchildren with threats of damnation. They might become Christians on their own someday; that was their choice to make, when they were adults. But that was a different matter.
Judaism didn’t believe that people of other religions were damned or in any way unacceptable to God. You could convert to Judaism if you wanted to, but it wasn’t necessary. This was a strong dividing line between Judaism and Christianity—and it was one that David couldn’t get past.
Judaism, ultimately, was much more about deed than creed. God judges us by what we do, rather than what we believe. Good deeds are essential—particular beliefs are not.
Christianity held that good deeds flow from the grace that comes of faith in Christ—unless you believe in Christ and allow him to work through you, truly good deeds are difficult if not impossible.
And so Judaism was content to let every people follow their native faith and witness only to ethics; while Christianity thought it essential to bring people to their Christ.
David heard a door to the side open, jarring him out of his thoughts. He watched his mother step out of some office or other. She looked like she was ready to leave the church—until she spotted David.
For a moment he thought she was going to leave without speaking to him. But at the last minute she sighed and made her way over to the pew.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she slid into the pew next to him.
“Waiting for you,” he answered. “Look at this.”
He picked up the Bible again, flipped it to Mark and showed his mother the passage. She narrowed her eyes at it.
“That’s the Sh’ma!” she said, surprised.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed.
She rolled her eyes. “My God, can’t I even escape Judaism here?”
David smiled at that. “Apparently not.” He paused and looked her in the eye. “Is this a genuine conversion, Mother?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, sighing as she put the Bible back. “I don’t know if I believe in God any more now than I did before, but I do know that I simply adore the Christmas story—if there is a God, I’d like to think that He came into this world as a baby in a manger.”
She paused and leaned her head against David’s shoulder. “And I’m marrying a man who’s quite a devout Christian, David. And I’ve always—well, let’s say that I don’t view Judaism as favorably as you do. It has an ugly side to it, David, which my father was a master at displaying. He only cared for other Jews—no one else.”
“That’s not what being part of the people Israel is about,” David said as he put his arm around her.
“I know that—but it’s a potential abuse of the idea of a particular people.”
“Christianity has some ugly abuses too,” he reminded her.
“I know, I know,” she snapped. “For the love of God, don’t start rattling off the persecutions that we’ve suffered. Heaven knows I heard enough about that growing up.”
David grinned. “Very well. I won’t say a word.” He paused and kissed the top of her head. “Look, if you really adore the Christmas story and you want to start your marriage by sharing your husband’s religion, I can’t blame you for it. I’ll even support your decision. Just promise me that you won’t threaten your grandchildren with hellfire and damnation.”
She rolled her eyes. “David, has Benjamin ever once threatened you or Abby with hellfire and damnation?”
“No,” he admitted. “But what does the minister here think?”
She sighed. “I asked him about it. He does believe that Jesus is absolutely necessary to, um, avoid damnation—but he thinks that Christ can work through people without them acknowledging him or even having heard of him. So people who can’t accept Christ, for whatever reason, may be recipients of grace regardless.”
David worked out the implications of that. “So you won’t feel it necessary to preach to your grandchildren?”
“No, I won’t,” she agreed. “But I would like them to come to Christmas services—don’t be tiresome about that.”
“Oh, they can go to Christmas services. Abby and I will even come too.”
His mother raised her eyebrows at that. “Really? I had no idea you’d be so reasonable.”
David shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll see plenty of Christian services in their life—that’s hard to avoid. But it’s a different thing if their grandmother preaches at them. That’s what I was mostly concerned about.”
His mother smiled. “I won't, don't worry. But you know, while I adore Abby, it is a pity that you didn’t marry a nice gentile girl. Really, David, your children would have an easier life if they were Protestants.”
“I don’t think anyone who takes their religion seriously ever has an easy life,” David remarked. “God is always troublesome and demanding when He gets under your skin. That’s as true for Protestants as it is for Jews.”
She rolled her eyes again. “You know what I meant.”
David nodded. “Yes, I do," he owned. "But you’re life is not going to be easier, you know. You might become a Christian, but there’s no way to stop being a Jew.”
“Yes, I know,” she said with a melodramatic sigh. “I can’t tell you how tiresome that is. I’ll just have to ignore that fact as much as possible.”
David laughed. “Good luck on that. Will you come to Shabbat dinner this week?”
“Well, since you’ve agreed to Christmas services, I suppose it’s the least I can do,” she admitted. “Now come with me to the modiste and help me pick out a design for a wedding dress.”
“Are you sure you want my opinion?” he asked.
“Of course—you’ve always had a good eye,” she answered, getting up from the pew. “Besides, we can start a new fight about how inappropriate it is for me to wear white.”
LINK TO PART 107
Genre: Slash Fan-Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
LINK TO PART ONE
~
David walked into Mr. Cartwright’s church. He paused as he did so to look around. Funny, he’d never much minded being in a Christian church before—he’d been to his share of weddings and funerals and christenings and such. But it was a different matter when it was the church that your mother was planning to convert in.
Mr. Cartwright had told him that she would be here today, meeting with the minister. So David took a seat in one of the pews and waited.
He hadn’t seen his mother since she stormed out of the house on Friday. That was three days ago—it was high time to call a truce.
David wondered idly just what Mr. Cartwright had said to her. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been enough to convince his mother to come home and make amends over the Shabbat meal. So now David was waiting for her here instead.
He picked up one of the Bibles in the pew—it was a Christian Bible, of course—and thumbed through it. One passage in Mark caught his eye.
A scribe asked Jesus what he thought was the most important mitzvah—commandment, that is. He answered, “The first is, ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”
David smiled to himself. What a good Jewish answer. Hillel—a rabbi who lived about a generation before Jesus—would have been proud.
David wondered how many Christians recognized the Sh’ma when they heard it. For that’s what Jesus was quoting as his first commandment—the central proclamation of Judaism, found in Deuteronomy. Jews were used to hearing it in Hebrew, of course, but it was still the Sh'ma: Here, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one’ and so forth through loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. And, in fact, it went on from there.
The second mitzvah that Jesus quoted was from Leviticus. Another fine choice, if you wanted to sum up Judaism in two mitzvot—er, commandments.
Funny how the two religions were so close in some ways, yet miles apart in others.
He closed the Bible and put it back in its spot as he leaned back against the pew. Then he stared up ahead at the altar and the cross that hung above it.
Was that cross what really bothered him about Christianity? No, he decided. But it made him uncomfortable, for two reasons.
Firstly, the theology of the cross seemed a little too close to human sacrifice for his comfort. But he understood that it was a powerful theology, even if he didn’t agree with it. It was powerful enough to change lives and transform some fairly miserable people into saintly figures—he wouldn’t deny that.
The other reason was harder to overcome. Some Christians—and David had met a few—still referred to Jews as Christ-killers. Apparently they didn’t understand that the Romans crucified Jesus—and that precious few Jews alive in that day would ever even have heard of him. There was no point in blaming every Jew who ever existed.
He sighed as he thought of all the times he’d been preached at and told that if he didn’t become a Christian he was bound for hell. His children would have to learn to handle such comments, but David didn’t want them to hear it from their own grandmother.
In the end, that’s what bothered him about this whole conversion—the thought that his mother might turn around and try to convert her grandchildren with threats of damnation. They might become Christians on their own someday; that was their choice to make, when they were adults. But that was a different matter.
Judaism didn’t believe that people of other religions were damned or in any way unacceptable to God. You could convert to Judaism if you wanted to, but it wasn’t necessary. This was a strong dividing line between Judaism and Christianity—and it was one that David couldn’t get past.
Judaism, ultimately, was much more about deed than creed. God judges us by what we do, rather than what we believe. Good deeds are essential—particular beliefs are not.
Christianity held that good deeds flow from the grace that comes of faith in Christ—unless you believe in Christ and allow him to work through you, truly good deeds are difficult if not impossible.
And so Judaism was content to let every people follow their native faith and witness only to ethics; while Christianity thought it essential to bring people to their Christ.
David heard a door to the side open, jarring him out of his thoughts. He watched his mother step out of some office or other. She looked like she was ready to leave the church—until she spotted David.
For a moment he thought she was going to leave without speaking to him. But at the last minute she sighed and made her way over to the pew.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she slid into the pew next to him.
“Waiting for you,” he answered. “Look at this.”
He picked up the Bible again, flipped it to Mark and showed his mother the passage. She narrowed her eyes at it.
“That’s the Sh’ma!” she said, surprised.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed.
She rolled her eyes. “My God, can’t I even escape Judaism here?”
David smiled at that. “Apparently not.” He paused and looked her in the eye. “Is this a genuine conversion, Mother?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, sighing as she put the Bible back. “I don’t know if I believe in God any more now than I did before, but I do know that I simply adore the Christmas story—if there is a God, I’d like to think that He came into this world as a baby in a manger.”
She paused and leaned her head against David’s shoulder. “And I’m marrying a man who’s quite a devout Christian, David. And I’ve always—well, let’s say that I don’t view Judaism as favorably as you do. It has an ugly side to it, David, which my father was a master at displaying. He only cared for other Jews—no one else.”
“That’s not what being part of the people Israel is about,” David said as he put his arm around her.
“I know that—but it’s a potential abuse of the idea of a particular people.”
“Christianity has some ugly abuses too,” he reminded her.
“I know, I know,” she snapped. “For the love of God, don’t start rattling off the persecutions that we’ve suffered. Heaven knows I heard enough about that growing up.”
David grinned. “Very well. I won’t say a word.” He paused and kissed the top of her head. “Look, if you really adore the Christmas story and you want to start your marriage by sharing your husband’s religion, I can’t blame you for it. I’ll even support your decision. Just promise me that you won’t threaten your grandchildren with hellfire and damnation.”
She rolled her eyes. “David, has Benjamin ever once threatened you or Abby with hellfire and damnation?”
“No,” he admitted. “But what does the minister here think?”
She sighed. “I asked him about it. He does believe that Jesus is absolutely necessary to, um, avoid damnation—but he thinks that Christ can work through people without them acknowledging him or even having heard of him. So people who can’t accept Christ, for whatever reason, may be recipients of grace regardless.”
David worked out the implications of that. “So you won’t feel it necessary to preach to your grandchildren?”
“No, I won’t,” she agreed. “But I would like them to come to Christmas services—don’t be tiresome about that.”
“Oh, they can go to Christmas services. Abby and I will even come too.”
His mother raised her eyebrows at that. “Really? I had no idea you’d be so reasonable.”
David shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll see plenty of Christian services in their life—that’s hard to avoid. But it’s a different thing if their grandmother preaches at them. That’s what I was mostly concerned about.”
His mother smiled. “I won't, don't worry. But you know, while I adore Abby, it is a pity that you didn’t marry a nice gentile girl. Really, David, your children would have an easier life if they were Protestants.”
“I don’t think anyone who takes their religion seriously ever has an easy life,” David remarked. “God is always troublesome and demanding when He gets under your skin. That’s as true for Protestants as it is for Jews.”
She rolled her eyes again. “You know what I meant.”
David nodded. “Yes, I do," he owned. "But you’re life is not going to be easier, you know. You might become a Christian, but there’s no way to stop being a Jew.”
“Yes, I know,” she said with a melodramatic sigh. “I can’t tell you how tiresome that is. I’ll just have to ignore that fact as much as possible.”
David laughed. “Good luck on that. Will you come to Shabbat dinner this week?”
“Well, since you’ve agreed to Christmas services, I suppose it’s the least I can do,” she admitted. “Now come with me to the modiste and help me pick out a design for a wedding dress.”
“Are you sure you want my opinion?” he asked.
“Of course—you’ve always had a good eye,” she answered, getting up from the pew. “Besides, we can start a new fight about how inappropriate it is for me to wear white.”
LINK TO PART 107
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