Hi all! Just a warning (the first of many) -- this one may wind up with more notes than story.

First, let me give you a heads up that this one is sort of different. It shows a rougher side of the boys. Some folks may not like this, and I can't say that I blame anyone. We all like to see them in certain ways, and this may not be anyone's favorite view. So if you aren't enjoying it, please feel free to opt out. I won't hold any grudges. I even sort of hesitated to post it, because I don't want to upset anyone's image of the boys.

The writing style on this one's kind of unusual for me, too. What can I say? Bo and Luke kind of insisted on it. If you're going to make us do this, they said, at least let us do it our way. (You'll note that they sort of keep a running commentary...)

Now for just a bit of explanation. The first reunion movie always struck me as odd. I mean, this was a family that was extraordinarily tied to one another. More than the terms of the boys' probation, and stronger than fear of losing the farm, they just seemed like a group of people that would stay together. Maybe not in the same house, but in the same town, at least. But instead, the kids all left and wound up getting so out of touch that they were surprised to hear that Rosco had taken over as Boss.

So I started playing with -- what would make them leave? And in the process, I came out with this. This does not stick with all the elements presented in the reunion movie, but I do pick up a lot of them.

Okay, enough notes. If I haven't scared you off yet... well, on with the story.

Chapter 1 – Starry Nights

Luke knew what Bo was going to do, even before the fist hit his face. It was one of the benefits of years spent within an arm's reach of one another. It might have been the squint of deep blue eyes or the curl of the left corner of the upper lip, somewhere between a smile and a sneer. Or it might just have been that Luke's words and actions had been calculated to hurt his younger cousin.

Anticipating the impact didn't make it any less painful, though, and while his impulsive cousin had Luke's permission to be angry, punching was a bit above and beyond. It was just that Luke had gotten tired of explaining, providing intelligent and logical words that Bo wasn't listening to anyway. So he'd said words that couldn't be taken back, and probably shouldn't be.

And understanding the reasons behind the punch sure as heck didn't mean Luke was going to let it happen again. The next fist coming at him didn't send his chin back the way the first had. No, this one landed comparatively harmlessly on Luke's forearm, sliding off as the brunette continued to move quickly, grabbing Bo's arm and forcing it away. It wasn't pretty, but it achieved the goal, leaving Bo's face open for Luke's balled fist.

Bo saw it coming and in that split second did more thinking than he had in the last half hour.

Should know better than to hit Luke. He always pulls his punches, but not by much. Years in the boxing ring, actually trained in hand-to-hand combat, and muscles on every inch of him – he's got the advantage. And – bam – Bo saw stars. Felt the ground as it hit his back.

Luke, somehow, came with him, the grip of their arms and the momentum behind the punch, probably. Whatever – Luke just came with him when he fell, insult to injury, knocking breath from his lungs.

A thought, so girly he hated it, formed in Bo's brain as he gasped for breath with a sound that approached, but never quite reached, a sob. It wasn't what he said, but the way he said it. Even as he mentally cringed, Bo knew that it was true. The actual words hardly mattered.

It was always hard to say, just before Luke let loose with something genuinely nasty, whether the corners of his mouth pulled up, or the center of his upper lip came down. A smirk so subtle that only those who had watched him closely or knew him well could really see it. A look that said I am smarter than you. No, not just that. I am too smart for you.

Air, sweet air into his lungs, breathing now, and this was good because as long as he could breathe, he didn't have to think; he could act. And his first act was to roll Luke off him, roll them together, get his cousin on the ground and himself above so he could deliver another blow, one that Luke squirmed away from. Again, dang it, again he's making sure not to really hurt me. Because Bo hadn't thought about the angle between them and what would happen if Luke got all the way out from under his fist, not when he'd pulled back as far as he could and swung with most of his might. Had his big cousin rolled his head completely out of line with the punch, Bo could have expected some broken knuckles, fisting into the ground that hard.

"Dang it, Luke!"

Not fair that the little brat was complaining, not when he'd just cuffed Luke in the ear, and as hard as he had. No doubt in Luke's mind that his lip was bleeding and his ear was a bright red, and Bo had thrown the first punch but was still complaining at him. Neither a good winner nor a good loser, his cousin. And Luke was definitely going to make sure he didn't win –

The blonde was already off balance from grazing Luke more than smashing him, and this made it easy to throw him off. A satisfying thud-grunt and Bo was on his back again. Luke knew better, though, than to climb on top of him. Leverage was good, but not like that. A real man didn't pin his opponent to the ground, but stood, facing his adversary. The older cousin got up, knowing Bo wouldn't be far behind, not with Luke pulling him to his feet like he was.

Licked at the corner of his lip, yep, blood. Saw the sheen of sweat on Bo's flushed face – fair skinned kid like Bo always turned red with only the slightest provocation. Saw the anger and the hurt and the determination all at once in the hard mask that Bo was hiding behind, the angles of his face all tight. Didn't want to look at that face anymore, not with the dirt streaking down it in the drops of sweat, left eye slightly more squinted than the right. So he punched him low, in the gut, stole his breath and heard him cough, but mercifully, Bo doubled over so Luke wouldn't have to look at that face anymore.

Again, he knew what was coming, even before the action was completed. He'd taught Bo this one day, back when they were kids, and Luke was so much bigger. You wasn't supposed to outgrow me, cuz. You wasn't supposed to grow up at all. Stupid thing to be thinking as Bo was linking his hands and turning to the side that way. An elbow in his breadbasket, and Luke was bent and coughing too. Not gonna go down. Won't give him the satisfaction.

Damn it, why couldn't his cousin listen to his words instead of his fists? This had always been a problem between them, Luke thinking in words like he did, and Bo in pictures. Another useless memory – Luke realizing, as the younger boy hit puberty, that Bo associated ideas with images more readily than sounds. See him staring at that girl? He's not thinking about how to talk to her, not Bo. He's just enjoying the view; every curve on her body means more to him than a thousand words I could say. Unlike Luke, who always had to communicate, to tell people what he needed from them. The oldest Duke cousin was a leader, had to actually talk to his followers, or they wouldn't know what they were supposed to do. Bo could picture his life away while Luke talked the two of them out of trouble that the little twerp had started in the first place…

And the struggle to breathe was over, Bo charging at him again, just as angry, and Luke was, too. I'm making sense, damnit, and he has to get all stubborn on me.

He ain't the only stubborn one. Uncle Jesse's voice, mocking from somewhere inside his head, just as Bo lunged, and Luke used the motion against him. Felt the hard, painful crush of Bo's muscle and bone into his chest, but caught him anyway, twisting and letting them both thump to the ground again, Bo's shoulder coming up just as Luke's head came down, making Luke bite him (gonna be more blood, now, and loose teeth, too).

"Ow!" Not sure who said that. Maybe both.

But Luke was done thinking in words or pictures or anything. Sitting up on Bo's chest, he grabbed that stupid t-shirt with his right hand, and pulled the left back to hit him. Didn't care if it really, really hurt. Looked down and planned where his fist ought to land. Bo, not even cringing, practically daring him. Go ahead, cuz.

Bo. No one would look at him so defiantly, not when he was poised on top, ready to deliver a serious blow. Not when he was so capable of hurting him like that. But there, in the indigo glare, the farmyard-filthy hair, the hands staying down, no longer fighting him, but just daring him with more gusto then he'd punched a only few seconds ago, was Bo. No one could get under his skin like his cousin, but then again, no one else could make him feel this… bad.

"Geez, Bo," he said, sitting back, arm coming down to his side, grip on Bo's shirt loosening.

And Luke had no right to start feeling bad now, not when Bo was still so dang mad at him. Pushing up on his elbows, struggling against the weight above him, scrambling and pushing, and Luke wasn't helping, just sitting on him, all heavy like that. Wanted to get up and have enough leverage to swing at his cousin, but that wasn't going to happen, at least not fast enough to suit Bo's current need, so he grabbed hold of Luke's shirt, heard a quiet rip somewhere, and pulled his cousin forward.

Not sure what he'd had in mind, but it sure wasn't this. Stars again. It couldn't have been three minutes since the last time he'd seen them and now, here they were, back again. Very short days between these starry nights.

"Uff!" Well, that was a good sign. Seemed to have hurt Luke, too, their foreheads colliding like that. Bo really was an idiot sometimes. He's shorter than you and sitting in your lap, for cryin' out loud. What do you think is going to happen when you pull him towards you like that?

Thinking hurt, though. Thinking about Luke looking at him that way, making that face, talking to him like he was still a little kid. Bo didn't want to think.

Tried not to, as he lay there, aware that Luke was no longer sitting on him, that somewhere in the simple black-and-white pain, his cousin had rolled off and was also prone, next to him somewhere. Could tell by the heavy breathing, the half-curses being panted somewhere near his left ear. Must have hurt Luke pretty good with that move; that boy knew better than to say those kinds of words on Jesse's land.

A few seconds later Bo realized that some of those sounds were coming from his own lips, those uncle-forbidden words. Typical. His mouth often went solo, operating without the assistance of his brain. So did his fists, come to think of it. Cussing wasn't the only thing they shouldn't have been doing on Jesse's land.

Even if Jesse was safely in town, and they knew he'd be there for hours. Even if Daisy had married, then gotten dragged off to North Carolina by her husband. Well, dragged probably wasn't fair, she'd been okay with going. It was Bo that had a problem with it. Had a problem with all of this, and Luke wasn't helping, not one bit.

"We ain't kids no more, Bo."

Wasn't sure how Luke meant that, could be taken a few ways. Like the fact that every bruise and cut on his body hurt right now, not like when they were little and could bounce right back up after a horse threw them (or a horse's ass – trying with every ounce of energy in his being to stay mad at Luke). Or could be taken as the continuation of the argument that had started this whole thing. Either way, it came out of nowhere and everywhere and Bo decided to laugh at it.

Decided, but apparently his throat didn't agree and it choked off in the middle of a giggle. Quickly, Bo rolled onto his side, facing away from Luke.

Of all the things he'd seen coming today, Luke hadn't expected that. Probably should have, but didn't. Because he knew exactly what it was, right away.

"Aw, Bo… don't."

Scrambling to his feet now, because Luke said that as if Bo had a choice, and he didn't. If he could just – not – he wouldn't be. But he was. So he got up and stalked away from Luke. Heard the dirt rustle somewhere at his back, heard Luke brushing his jeans off and walking along behind him, not far enough behind. In his younger days, Bo would have run, but somehow Luke always caught up to him anyway, so why waste his effort that way? Walked out of the clearing of the farmyard and stopped, counting the seconds as the rhythm of Luke's steps got closer, as familiar as the sound of denim scraping on a metal doorframe. Let his cousin turn him, hands on his shoulders.

"Aw, Bo."

"Shut up, Luke." No malice in that, just really wanting his cousin not to talk now. Words, they had never been Bo's preferred manner of expression anyway. He used his hands for that, affectionately or angrily or compassionately.

Luke knew that, just nodded. Fifteen years ago, even five, and this would have ended differently. Or wouldn't even have started. But if by some twist of time it had, they'd be all right now, hugging and forgiving. Today, though, they just stood there, looking at each other, Bo blinking away the evidence, Luke managing not to treat his cousin like a kid. A lot more effort to that than Bo might have guessed.

A nod from the blonde and Luke knew it was okay to talk again. Whatever happened, he would never know anyone as well as he knew the man in front of him.

"You don't need me to wipe your nose for you no more, cousin." Something that again, had two meanings, but Bo would understand what he meant, that he was taking back only part of what he'd said, removing the nastiness, keeping the truth.

"But we've always been a team." Indisputable.

"True. But they don't want me, they want you." This ought to be going differently – Luke should be jealous, angry that he wasn't wanted. But he wasn't. He'd – changed? Grown up? Didn't know, but his heart wasn't in this kind of thing anymore. Like the military, in a way. He'd done it, and now he was done with it. But Bo never would be.

"If they don't want both of us…"

"No, Bo."

"But, we could keep trying…"

"I ain't going with you, Bo. Even if they did change their minds."

The quiet, gentle words were no less painful than the mean ones had been, even if there was no you're such an idiot in Luke's eyes or the lines of his face.

Again with the wanting to run, and it was just so stupid because he wanted to escape so that he could get away from the fact that Luke was telling him to leave. Tried to turn away, but Luke wasn't allowing it, hands on his shoulders holding him firm. He could force it, if he wanted to, but that would break the physical contact, and Bo didn't want that. Never more than an arm's length away, cuz.

Their bedroom was small, but it would have tolerated more space between them. Still, when Bo was young enough to not like the dark (not afraid, Luke, just don't like it. Sure, cousin, I believe you) they'd aligned their beds no more than an arm's length apart, and the room was still arranged that way some twenty-plus years later. Back then, Luke had promised (out of a desire for sleep more than anything else) to stay within arm's reach. Bo hadn't always been able to hold him to that, but he'd always wanted to.

"Jesse…" Bo croaked, voice sounding like the General on a cold morning, a growl, yes, but weary.

"Wants you to go, and you know it. Things have changed, cousin."

Damn it, Luke. Why did he have to be so honest all the time – no, not honest, too nice a word for it – blunt? Bo felt the last of his façade crumbling. And he'd worked so hard at it, too. Felt Luke squeeze his shoulder, a silent question in that. Proud blonde head dropping, an answer. Letting Luke slip his arms around him, giving up. Oh, not everything, just this fight against himself. The fight against Luke, that would continue, as soon as Bo was ready.

Things had changed. They'd paid off the mortgage, for one. Boss Hogg had been ill for awhile, a slow cancer, likely from the cigars. He'd mellowed, allowed things to happen that his younger self would have forbidden. Like the Dukes paying off the mortgage, unmolested.

Daisy had married L.D., a real creep of a guy in Bo's opinion, but Bo's opinion hadn't mattered worth a bucket of spit. And then she'd moved far enough away that they didn't see her but a few times a year.

Their probation had ended. Three seemingly good things, all to be celebrated, and then a fourth – income from sold shares of the cotton mill. Jesse was entitled to part of it from the time he'd built the coalition that had saved the place, then served on the board of directors through its transition from a small town industry to a major regional textile producer. What Jesse got wasn't much, but they didn't need much anymore. Just enough to feed and clothe themselves.

Good things had happened to the Duke family. And those things had all congregated, congealed in the hot Georgia sunshine, into this moment, the first time the Duke boys had fought like this in years, the first time Luke had ever all but ordered him out of his life.

At least his cousin had the good sense not to talk now, not to even move, not actively comforting Bo in any way, just letting his arms hang gently around him. Same firm feel Bo had known since childhood – never more than an arm's length away.

Jesse didn't want Bo to go, not exactly, Luke had said that wrong. A mental kick to himself, because the result was obvious, and Bo hurt enough already. (So did Luke. Not kids anymore, and the dang ground had gotten harder, too.) What Jesse had said was –

"You ain't really decided to stay in Hazzard; just not to leave. You gotta go away to know that you want to live here." Typical Jesse down-home backwards logic. So backwards you couldn't argue with it.

Though Bo (idiot!) had tried.

"We did, though, we joined the circuit and left and then decided to come home."

"That wasn't decidin', not really. That was worryin' – about me, and about this here farm. Now that you got nothin' to worry about, you need to try again."

So Bo had begun, halfheartedly, to talk to their old contacts on the circuit, suggesting that the Duke boys might be ready to come out of retirement. But the offer had come for Bo alone. Okay with Luke, but not the blonde who was just now pushing away from him –

"Let me go, Luke," he said, pointlessly, since Luke was already letting him go, actually pushing him to go. Bo walked away, but not far, just enough to be alone for a few minutes. Barely beyond arm's reach.