From Road Pirates. Things to remember from the episode: the boys get into the back of two different trucks trying to find the hijackers. Luke's turns out to be the one that's been hijacked, so Bo has to jump out of his and onto the General's hood (with Cooter driving and Jesse riding shotgun). Then they're off to save Luke, but Rosco gets in the way. By the time they get to Luke, he's driving around in circles on a motorcycle with the hijackers chasing him. Of course, no one ever really gets hurt...
There's a burning sensation, from his nose all the way up into his forehead, from breathing too fast. His finger's out there pointing, poking into Luke's chest and demanding submission. He'd get it from any other man, but never this one.
"What was you thinking?" he's demanding, not that he doesn't already know the answer, not that anything Luke says is going to help. "Out here without no way to contact no one, outnumbered. You're just lucky you found that motorcycle. What if you hadn't, huh? What then?" There were four of them to Luke's one, and the bad guys had guns at their disposal. Luke can run, Bo'll give him that. He's dang fast, but even the tall tales of Hazzard don't give Luke the speed to outrun a bullet.
"Bo." Luke's about to point out how silly his concerns are. What with the way he's living and breathing and got his hands ready to slap Bo's jabbing finger back out of his checked shirt, seems like it could be a valid argument. Only it isn't because Luke was in danger and Bo couldn't get to him half as fast as he wanted to. "Simmer down, now."
Simmer, maybe, bubble and boil or more like seethe. Sizzle and pop with the way that Luke's so casual about all of this. "You said it yourself, Luke. If we hadn't showed up right when we did, you would've been running on fumes." Then not running at all, with big and ugly (whose name Rosco was helpful enough to supply before he lugged the whole kit and caboodle of hijackers off to the county jail, but Bo's already forgotten it) right on top of him.
"Woulda been, but wasn't," Luke reminds him. "It ain't like we wasn't both taking a chance, Bo, riding in the back of them trucks like that." Which was Luke's brilliant idea to begin with. His finger finally gets snatched away from him by his cousin. "Come on," Luke suggests, conciliatory. "We might as well see what's here." Because they've been left behind to meet the State Troopers Jesse called at the front end of all this mess. The hijacker merchandise is still all around them, except for the remnants of motorcycles that Daisy has warned them litter the area like so many discarded kid's toys. Luke's all but holding his hand with intentions of walking around and exploring through this stuff like Santa just dropped it into their living room. And it's not the temporariness of the loot that irks Bo, but the fact that Luke could walk through it now, like he wasn't almost killed for it. Like he couldn't be stashed in it now, just a body turning cold and waiting for proper burial.
"No!" He shoves at Luke, everything in his brain screaming get away from me. He doesn't think he's said it out loud, though Luke's looking at him like somehow something crazy has come out of his mouth after all. Maybe it's all the thoughts he's having about if you're going to get yourself killed, leave now, go somewhere far from here. I don't want to know the moment it happens, I don't want to sit through your wake or go to your funeral. "Damn it, Luke!" That part he's sure got screamed out at high volume. Another shove because Luke's trying to catch his hands again. "You was here, and I was miles away, couldn't see you or hear you and—" more fast snorts of air up his nose and he starts to wonder whether a man can drown in his own pent up tears. Spares another thought to wondering how much it's going to hurt when Luke hits him back, and then his fist cuts up on his cousin's chin. Luke's on his back in the dirt, gulping air down through his mouth almost as violently as Bo's been sucking it up his nose. "You coulda got hurt," sounds foolish even to his own ears, considering he's just decked the man.
Not that Luke's staying down or behaving like a person that's got any serious pains. He's already halfway up and charging. It's no fair that he doesn't swing, just catches Bo hard around the waist and levels him. Bad is worse when Luke comes with him, shoulder into his bread basket, dead weight on his legs.
He's at his cousin's mercy, and nothing ever changes.
Funny how he's wishing his nose would burn again with the sensation of too much oxygen. Now his only goal is air, and he's not going to get much with the way Luke's pinning him to the dirt. Chokes on the nothing in his lungs, turns his head and spits in the dirt just to the side of his own head.
"Luke," he says, but stops himself. Leave me alone, maybe, was coming next. Doesn't matter, he hates the sound of his own voice, breathless and grating, more whine than word. Luke's body covers most of his now, just laying there like a giant paperweight, one that pants and sweats and responds with a tight grip against any attempts on his part to move. No more words, just a quiet struggle until Bo can't tolerate it anymore. "Rosco," he confesses, "slowed me down. Tried to arrest me. I would've been here faster…"
Luke's shushing him, and the hard grasp on Bo's wrists has turned soft and yielding. He gets an "It's okay," which only makes it worse.
"It ain't," he answers, swallowing and pushing against Luke's hands, asking to be let up. He gets accommodated, but only partway. Luke pulls himself to his knees, giving Bo room to sit up, legs straight out in front of him. He'd like to get his knees bent, maybe get his feet on solid ground. Turns out it's impossible, because Luke sits right back down, all two-hundred muscled pounds if him in Bo's lap. Damn it, he doesn't want to be facing Luke when he says this part, but there's nowhere else to look, and no way he can move away. "I woulda been here sooner, if'n I hadn't been afraid to jump out the back of that stereo equipment truck I was in. Cooter and the General was right there, but I—" kept hesitating and having second thoughts. Was immobilized by thinking of what could happen to me, picturing blood on the road, and bones in a heap. Couldn't move until that picture changed, turned into thoughts of—"You." Doesn't make any sense, what with all those words not said, but then there's more. "Wouldn't have thought twice."
Luke's arms are resting on his shoulders, head is tilted to the side like maybe he's listening extra hard out of that one ear. "Next time," he whispers, and Bo wants to make him swear there'll never be a next time, "we stay together."
Bo's arms are set loose around Luke's hips, and he wants to tighten them down, bring Luke closer, but he doesn't know whether he should. His tough cousin's not one to tolerate too much closeness, or relax into a hug. In fact, if anything, Luke's leaning back away from him, maybe planning to let him up now that he's been forced to confess. Bo's looking away, resigning himself to losing the warmth of Luke from his legs, when the angle of Luke's arms changes. One hand's on the back of Bo's head now, cradling it like such giant hands haven't ever done, the other's got ahold of his shoulder. Bo's on his way to meeting Luke's eyes and he gets met by Luke's lips, reassuring, gentle, alive and moving. Bo just tightens his arms around Luke's back and holds on against the flood of emotions his cousin has submerged him in today.
"I love you," he says when he's got possession of his own lips, and even he's not sure whether he's talking about the kiss or the fact that Luke's alive to do it and spin everything he's ever known in his life around, like it's nothing more than throwing the General in reverse.
Either way, Luke climbs off, and offers him a hand to standing. Off in the distance comes the sound of sirens signaling the arrival of the state cops and the end of this adventure in their lives.