Luke's Love Story, AKA Luke is a jerk. And sadly, he doesn't get any better right afterward, which is when this vignette takes place.


"Girls'll do that to you, Bo." He's not sure whether he's talking about Frankie or Amy. "Make you do things you swear you wouldn't otherwise."

Bo's been missing half the time, and the other half he's been pretending not to be there. Quiet, like he's still afraid of Luke. Maybe he's got good reasons; after the shock of Luke's loss-turned-win and the quiet wrench of Amy actually leaving him, Luke lit out after Bo. Didn't so much ask him to explain how the girls should be two counties away in the General right now, as shove him up against the house and threaten to kill him if he ever pulled a fool stunt like that again. Bo's only response had been a nod, eyes elsewhere, hadn't even fought against the way Luke pinned him to the whitewashed boards there. Must've hurt, Luke had used the full force of his weight: hands, chest and even a knee digging into his calf just to make the point.

"Frankie, she was playing you, getting under your skin," he says now. Like Amy got under his, only Frankie didn't kiss Bo for his troubles. "I ain't—I ain't mad no more, Bo." Needs to make Bo understand this, because as much as he's always hated the way Bo follows him around like an overgrown puppy, right about now he's feeling like that kid who shot Old Yeller.

And Bo's twirling around in the old tire swing like he isn't six and a half feet tall these days, hardly seems to notice how close his knees are to his chin.

"I know you ain't, Luke," is all the explanation he gets for the distance between them that hasn't let up in the intervening forty-eight hours.

"I'm going inside." It's a test. "Coming? I think there's some new cookies in the jar." A test with more temptation than Luke reckons Bo can resist.

"Not just now." And Bo fails. "You go on." With flying colors.

"Damn it, Bo!" Jesse's been trying to make him use darn or dang instead of damn, but it's not working out so well, leastwise not when his cousin's acting like a baby. "What do you want me to do? I done said I was sorry." Sort of. Close enough. Bo reads his mind half the time anyway, has to know what he meant.

Bo just shrugs. "I know you're sorry, Luke. I just ain't hungry is all."

Shoot, now he knows Bo's lying to him. Kid was born with his beak wide open, chirping for more no matter how many worms got stuck down his throat.

Luke shoves at him until he comes up out of that old swing. No idea what his intentions are, whether to drag Bo inside or knock him to the ground. Settles for something in between: Bo's backed up to the old oak tree by Luke's hand in the middle of his chest, his fingers waving in the air in surrender, and eyes as lost as Luke's ever seen them.

"What do you want, Bo?" It was supposed to come out different, a demanding growl, but the best Luke can manage is genuine concern.

His cornered cousin sighs. "Just you, Luke. I want you back from Amy."

That's stupid, Amy's gone. Luke spits out a laugh, then has to look to make sure he didn't just spray his cousin with saliva. Bo doesn't seem to be flinching, so it must be all right. "She's gone, Bo. She ain't coming back."

"Are you?" The tight tone of the question is what makes Luke realize that he's still pushing on Bo's chest. He's half tempted to shove a little harder, maybe the bark scraping against his back will wake his cousin up out of this weird stupor he's been in. But Luke lets his better half persuade him to stop touching Bo.

"Am I what?" Can't seem to control the tone his tongue takes, though. Lets it make clear exactly how ridiculous Bo is being.

"Coming back—"

"I'm right—"

"—to me."

"—here, Bo."

This makes no sense, and it's not the talking over each other that's the problem. It's that mess of things on Bo's face before he nods his head. Stands up from the tree and slings both of his arms around Luke, almost like he'd do if they won a race, but Luke can't help feeling that they've lost something instead.

"You just let me know when you're over her," Bo whispers into his ear before he lets go and walks off alone toward the barn.