This one is from Enos Strate to the top and was inspired by that odd little exchange between the boys where Luke asks if Bo thinks they can make the jump, and Bo replies, "When we're halfway across? Ask me then."

"Dang it, Luke!" And that was easy for Bo to say. He, at least, knew what this fight was about. Luke didn't have two thoughts to rub together about what was going on here, other than to regret again that they'd come to blows over Diane a couple of weeks ago. Now that the Immutable Truth of Dukes-don't-hit-Dukes had been knocked completely off its foundation, it seemed like Luke was destined to take all manner of punches.

Here came another one now, making Luke miss those days when Bo was smaller than him and Luke could grab the kid and hold him still long enough that the fight would eventually seep out of him. Tears would follow, and finally scorching words that must've burned Bo's little throat on the way out, but once Luke could see a fire he had half a chance of dousing it.

"Bo!" Let that first hit graze off his shoulder, Bo didn't mean it. The second one caught his mouth though, couldn't let that one pass. Swung back hard enough to knock Bo off his feet, where maybe Luke could hold him down long enough to get past that impulse to swing.

Wrestling now, punches almost like punctuation, just to clarify the objective of the whole skirmish. Except it had no meaning, at least none Luke could come up with.

Shoot, they'd been passing words back and forth to the rhythm of the saw, nothing more than can you believe Rosco got a dog? And really thinks it could replace Enos? And that trailed off to Los Angeles, wonder what it's like. Might be interesting to see California some day, see how it holds up to being invaded by one of Hazzard's own. Somewhere right about there the saw stopped, but Luke didn't pay that any real mind. For every five minutes of work, Bo took ten minutes of rest, called it a day after an hour, and went off grumbling something about lunch. So when Bo quit doing his half of the work, Luke rocked back on his heels and kept the conversation going, about how it had been fun to go to Atlanta and it was kind of a shame to have come back home already…

Somewhere in there, Bo spun on him, started danging him and swinging in the same second. Now his cousin was on his back in the dust, rolling his shoulders and pulling his hand free, and this could turn into a silly slapping match unless Luke could get control and quick. Stuck a knee on one of Bo's wrists, knew it would hurt like a bastard, but it was the quickest way to slow this thing down, get ahold of Bo's other hand and… there it was, his cousin snapping over toward tears.

"You ain't leaving again, Luke. I don't care if you want to see California, you ain't leaving!"

What? And Bo had his hands back, nasty little trick, saying something that crazy just to get Luke to sit back off of him, unless—

And quick as that thought, Luke was on his back, letting Bo pin him.

"I ain't… Bo, I wasn't planning on going nowheres." Said it smooth as honey (or as close as he could come with a knee on his chest), calm and rational as a man could be. "Did you think I was…?" And the knee was sliding off him, down to his side. Bo had him straddled, but wasn't exactly holding him down anymore. "I ain't going nowheres," he repeated, grabbing Bo just above the elbows, and running his hands up. "Leastwise, if I did, I always reckoned you'd come with me." He was tugging now, trying to get Bo's torso close enough to hug him, let his hands make the promises his tongue couldn't convincingly express, about how he had no intention of running off to join the Marines again, and no, he wasn't going to go off to California or even Atlanta, not without Bo.

Bony hips were sliding down over Luke's, just on the way to aligning their bodies right, had to be. No way Bo'd do that on purpose. Shoulders coming closer now, and good, he was going to let Luke comfort him.

("That's quite a leap; think we'll get enough speed?" It wasn't that Luke didn't trust Bo, more that the urge to rescue Daisy was stronger than his cousin's ability to be logical right now.

"When we're halfway across?" Bo asked, clearly biting his tongue at the stupidity of talking when there was a creek to be jumped and Daisy in danger somewhere on the other side.

"Yeah?" Luke asked back.

"Ask me then.")

There, in the middle of the farmyard, halfway between the kitchen windows and the chopping stump, with God looking right down on them and chickens milling around, Bo kissed him, hands on Luke's arms, shoulders, dusty fingers coming up to cradle his chin, tip it just so, better angle, less messy, more effective. Pulled back, enough to breathe, or maybe just to say, "You ain't leaving" one last time.