From Close Call for Daisy, this vignette grew out of the first scene with the boys in it.
How the hell Bo always manages to get them signed on for the dullest errands on the planet, he'll never know. Luke would have reminded Daisy that she's the one with a Jeep and the perfect amount of room to lug props around for the ridiculous church play. But Daisy has Bo twisted around that bony little finger of hers, what with her damsel-in-distress pretty-pleases and long, batting eyelashes.
Anyway, the only damn thing to do is to get it over with, except the General's got the vapors. Likely Bo's fault for driving him hard all day and leaving it to Luke to do any mechanical work at night, after chores, when he can't hardly see straight anymore, even before taking the dark into account. The poor car's coughing, sputtering, backfiring and getting shot at.
Wait, what? Bo's flailing at the wheel like if he slings the car around hard enough, the bullets will get confused and manage to miss them. No such luck – their radiator is a goner.
For some fool reason, they get out of the car. Oh, by now they've pretty well figured out that the gunshots came from the car in front of them, the one with license plates that say NW on them. But since the dang thing's still in sight, it's got to be their foolish nature that makes them think that it's wiser to pull themselves up and out, rather than tucking down and under the dash.
They get lucky, probably. Seems like it's the General's radiator that offended whoever NW is.
Bo goes after the hood while Luke calls Rosco. Somewhere between the wijits and the accusations, the sheriff manages to inform Luke that they're just going to have to sit tight, because he doesn't have time for piddly problems today. And Cooter gives him fair warning that the tow truck's already booked for a few jobs before theirs. Stuck on the side of the road. Again.
So Luke leans on the driver's side doorframe, arms across his chest in his own version of parade rest. Takes only a few seconds for Bo to sidle up and plant himself not just close, but right up snug against Luke's side. Not even a cow within miles to compete with them for space (or they wouldn't be stuck like this) and Bo's got to sit in the exact groove that Luke's hind end is wearing into the car door.
It's about time the cuddly one learned a lesson.
"Well, hello there, little lady," Luke drawls, favoring Bo with that wink he saves for those shy girls that don't make the first move. "Ain't you looking lovely tonight."
"Luke." Clearly Bo's got complaints, but it's not Luke's fault that he makes such a pretty date.
He snakes an arm around Bo's shoulders in a reverse of their normal posture. "What's the matter, sweet thing? No one asked you to dance?"
Dancing could turn to fist fighting in a minute. Then again, Bo's forehead and cheeks look mad, but his shoulders and hips haven't moved an inch. So Luke's left arm reaches around the front of both of their bodies to rest on Bo's right hip. Means a quarter turn to face Bo, but that's okay. Makes it easier to whisper in his ear. "Wanna dance with me, baby?"
Odd how Luke's heart is pumping like he's in the middle of a Boar's Nest brawl, funny how Bo's turning to face him full on.
"I thought," Bo says, and those long arms shouldn't be able to move that fast. Bo's got Luke in a hold that would impress a boa constrictor, mashing their bodies in tight and close. He tilts that big old blond head down for a kiss. "You'd never ask."