This one's from The Legacy. There's a detour in here on the nature of "Martha." This is the episode where Jesse tells Lucinda (the 'widder' lady) that without the kids to take care of, he would have gone crazy after Martha died. Later on in the series, he makes clear that his wife's name was Lavinia (the most obvious case for this is in The Boar's Nest Bears where Jesse is telling the boy about the people he's lost in his life). Then there's also the Aunt Lavinia that he hasn't talked to in twenty years. It all adds up to "what a mess." So in this vignette I decided to make it all the messier...

"If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a side-seat driver."

Luke didn't rightly hear what followed that; he was too busy making sure the world was still revolving in its natural path, not flying off on a collision course with Jupiter. He was the one who taught Bo to drive; telling him how to go about getting wherever they were going was just what the two of them called 'being a team.' Complaining about the arrangement now was just… strike three, was what it really was. And it was Luke that had failed to connect.

Something was under Bo's skin, and for once, Luke didn't have the first idea what it could be. He'd ignored the first two signs (oh, there'd likely been more than that, thinking on it), figuring that it was no big deal, then ignored them some more because Bo would get over it on his own. Still, it was starting to seem like Luke would have to go against every instinct he'd ever had and get around to asking Bo what was on his mind. Maybe after they'd managed to help Uncle Jesse's old girlfriend get what was rightfully hers from Boss Hogg (though it occurred to him to wonder why J.D. had ever signed that I.O.U. and whether they ought to have asked more questions about that part).

Bo eventually managed what Luke had been after him about, losing Cletus, and took the General on up to the mouth of a mine that they'd never bothered to explore as boys. Practically unexplainable, that there was a crevice in Hazzard that they known about but never been into, especially since a part of it was concealed under Duke land. Daisy's reasoning about bats and rats and creepy things (like Bo and Luke, and he'd remind her she said that the next time she wanted his help with her Jeep) didn't cut it, they probably should have come out here as fearless kids. Now there was so much more to lose.

Bo jumped onto the platform to be lowered into the mine first, very smooth. They were both pretending that Luke didn't have a problem with being alone in dark, enclosed spaces, just like they always acted like there was not any such place as Vietnam, nor years that were spent on opposite sides of the world. They ignored a lot of things, him and Bo. Luke reckoned that not thinking too hard was good for a body, most of the time. Led to fast reflexes, like when the winch got stuck and the rope unraveled. Spending time thinking over what to do and how it could possibly go wrong would only have led to Bo hitting the bottom of the mine with a mighty thud.

Not talking about it was the prescription for most of what ailed the Duke boys, but every now and then Bo broke those rules, not so much with a crash – it was usually something closer to a whisper, at night, across a dark bedroom.

"Who was Martha?"

"What?" Hard to answer the boy's question when he had so many of his own. "Who?" Martha Washington came to mind…

"I don't know, Uncle Jesse was out there courting with Miss Lucinda and he said something about after Martha died, he would have gone crazy without us to look after." Bo's face was probably red over there; he sounded miffed, gave an extra "oh, fine" when Luke started to snicker.

"So, wait." His cousin had invited this, they had unspoken rules about not speaking of things and Bo had gone right ahead and broken them anyway. "Jesse was out courting Miss Lucinda and you was just sitting right there and didn't ask Jesse who Martha was?"

"I wasn't sitting," Bo was sighing, because now that he'd gone and started the discussion, there wasn't really any way out. "More like standing. With Daisy. By the open window of the kitchen. With Daisy." Just in case he'd forgotten that Daisy was there, too, and at least halfway responsible.

He should have been reminding Bo about rudeness and eavesdropping, it would have been the right thing to do. Someday he'd get back to that part, when he remembered how to breathe normally again.

"It ain't funny, Luke." Oh, but it was. Rolled over and bit his pillow for a bit, though, because they didn't need Jesse coming in and chastising them for making too much noise, not while his lady friend was a-visiting. Bo's pillow came sailing over, hitting his back and bouncing to the floor somewhere in there, too.

"Martha," his whispered, when he had enough control of himself to even try explaining. "You knew Martha. You hated Martha. It were mutual, though. Wasn't nobody but Jesse that Martha liked." Bo should have figured it out by now; maybe he had. Things were awfully quiet over there. "She was Jesse's old mule, died maybe two years after Aunt Lavinia. The old-timer used to go out there and tell her all his troubles. I figure he didn't really grieve for Aunt Lavinia until Martha passed on and he really didn't have no one to talk to." Yeah, that shut Bo up, both of them, actually. Bo fished around to find his pillow, but didn't say anything. Luke drifted off to sleep on the memories of the woman who'd tried to mother him, and the way she and Jesse sometimes seemed to live in concentric circles, not hardly touching.

And that ought to teach Bo a lesson or two about communication, and why Duke boys didn't need it. Except they did, because after that bit of entertainment passed, when they'd slept, then saved the world from the demon ways of Boss Hogg, Bo was still not set to rights. So many of the things they did well, like creating road blocks against evil and shooting down greed, took no words. And then, every now and then, someone had to go and say something.

Like: "I'm gonna lose 'em, if you'd just get off my back." That was Bo again, minding things he never cared about before. So after they'd tidily plopped Cletus and Rosco into the drink, then skirted around old running trails to get back to the Rainbow Mine for one last trip inside to make sure it was completely empty of any incriminating evidence, after they'd shinnied down and lit the lantern, Luke swallowed hard against the foolishness, and asked.

"What's wrong with you, Bo?"

That stopped his cousin cold, made his head cock back and his eyes close before he shook his head and blurted, "What?" Well, it could have gone worse. Then again, Bo was looking to him to answer that question, and wasn't volunteering any answers of his own.

"You're… punchy." Cranky, actually, was the first word to come to mind, but Bo never liked being called that. "You ain't happy." And please don't ask me for examples.

For a minute it looked like Bo was going to bluff, claim he was fine, maybe suggest they just keep on moving through the mine. But no, after a few breaths, his hands rested on his hips, and his eyes focused on a part of the floor not three feet in front of him. Stood there still long enough for Luke to regret, three or maybe even four times, having started this.

"Bo?" Seemed like maybe his cousin's brain had shorted out or something. It was enough to make him wonder whether, if you suddenly died, rigor mortis could set in immediately and keep you standing upright.

And there it came, Bo's head lifting, shadows shifting all along his face until his chin was high enough that he could look Luke in the eyes. Nope, he hadn't fallen asleep on his feet, he'd been steeling himself for something.

"Luke, do you trust me?"

So many answers presented themselves, all of them inappropriate to the way Bo looked like a deer in the headlights, a very vulnerable deer at that. So he just said, "Yeah."

"Close your eyes?" Long seconds of silence. "I ain't gonna leave you down here." And that was more than Bo needed to say out loud. It hadn't been a challenge before; now it was.

It was already damn dim, who cared if he closed his eyes and let it go full out dark, down here underground where darkness ought to dominate anyway? Small space, dank and dirty, and no different than closing his eyes in his own bedroom. Bo was right there.

So he did, shut his eyes tight, trusting Bo to stay with him. No reason to do it other than Bo asked him to, and that was why he'd done most things in life, come to think of it. Heard movement, forced himself to keep his eyes closed, breathe, and trust Bo not to leave him. Seemed like whatever this test of Bo's was, it was endless, even if it had just begun. Felt the warmth of Bo's hand on his shoulder, leaned forward as Bo came closer. Suddenly there was a hand on his face, familiar touch, unusual place. He trusted that hand, let it tip his chin up, and when the gentleness of Bo's lips met his own, he trusted them, too.