The last of season six: Cooter's Confession. This one grew out of the little exchange between the boys where Luke asks Bo if he'd buy a used truck from the saleswoman. Bo would. Luke calls him easy.
Flossie the saleswoman is practically saddling Bo up for a vigorous ride. The idiot is flirting back with her, like she's anything worth wasting a few hours on.
"Would you buy a used truck from that lady?" Luke mutters when they're out of earshot.
Big silly grin from Bo. "You bet I would."
"You're easy." And Bo is easy, most times. Easy to predict, easy to drag along on any adventure, easy to make smile, easy on the eyes, easy to love (just ask any girl between the ages of twelve and well, Granny Annie). Hard as hell to put up with through all of that, though.
Easy to talk him into chasing down a friend of Cooter's that they have somehow never met nor heard of, even if the guy did save their best friend's life. Easy to convince Bo that Cooter needs to be freed, no matter the objections. Easiest of all is the midnight raid on the shipping company, where they find the missing truck that started this whole thing. A truck of a different color, as the brilliant man with the blonde hair points out: new paint job.
"It's a wet paint job, too," Luke observes. Hard not to smack Bo's hand back when he reaches for the hood, bringing back black fingers. "Don't you believe me?"
Of course he does, Bo has a habit of trusting Luke, even if it's sometimes hard to tell. It's an inclination that's nearly gotten him killed a few times, including tonight. One more time they get out alive, along with the knowledge of what they have to do.
Easy enough plan. Luke is bait and Bo and Cooter have his back. Which works fine until a pretty lady whacks the back of his head with a… well hell, he doesn't know. Whatever it was, has to have been heavy, because those skinny, little woman arms could not have swung anything hard enough to hurt him.
He is hurt though, head, pride and everything in between. It's a relief to feel Bo's safe arms helping him up, even if they are late in getting there. Makes him wish they'd sit here for a few more minutes so he could gather himself a little better, but they can't. Off to save the day.
Which they do, easily enough.
Another knot on his head for the effort, and Bo's still entertaining himself with the notion that Luke got hit by a girl again hours later when they're getting ready for bed.
"Bo," Luke reminds him. "I ain't been hit by a girl since Daisy smacked us for going back to NASCAR."
"That was only a month ago." Bo stumbles to a seat on his own bed, leg of his denim jeans and boot locked in a death struggle on his foot. "And she's pretty, too." Because for some reason it's important to Bo that Luke gets hit by pretty girls.
"And before that," Luke steps to the side as Bo's pants and boots come flying halfway across the room, to where he's very quietly (even gingerly) getting into his own pajama pants. "It's been years. Maybe back when we got decked by them two girls who was riding around with that Mason Dixon guy."
Bo's head has gotten lost in that blue t-shirt, and that'll teach him for wearing it all the time anyway. Undershirts are meant for little boys and church days. Grown men know how to button their shirts, and Bo's got snaps on his, anyway. "It ain't been that long."
Luke shrugs. He's stopped keeping track of that kind of thing long ago.
"Has it?" Bo asks, shirt finally popping off that chin of his and sliding up over his arms.
It's been long enough. Once upon about five years ago, Luke was no one to trust your daughter with. Now half of Hazzard would be willing the hand its young girls over to Luke for safekeeping.
"How come?" Bo demands, like it's an answerable question.
"I grew up," Luke suggests, and maybe it's even half true. Bo's grown, too, finally looking halfway adult wearing nothing but his skivvies and a few goose bumps.
"Got boring you mean," and that's the kind of dig Luke can't let pass.
"Not hardly." He can still make a flying leap across the hood of a moving work truck, as he proved just this afternoon.
"Well then," and Bo's got a smug little grin on his face now. "Show me. Do something interesting."
Luke could plead headache and it would probably even work. For tonight. Tomorrow the challenge will be back, and answering to it won't be any easier.
"All righty," Luke agrees, making his way to Bo's side of that invisible line down the middle of the room. "Get ready."
Bo's laughing at the notion of just what he has to get ready for. Which is a good thing, makes him easy to shove back onto his own bed, lying crosswise with all the legs in the world hanging off the side. The giggles stop somewhere around where the hand-pinning begins. Curiosity ends where Luke crawling up over him starts, and any attempts at questions are lost in the kiss.
Relaxed under him, no fight or objection; yeah, Bo's easy.