A/N: Okay, this isn't a new chapter, per se. It's a little bit of nothing much that I just had fun with this evening. Call it an interlude/thinly veiled writing exercise/even more thinly veiled excuse for Jack and Ennis to say a bunch of stuff. There is a tiny bit of plot advancement. Hope you enjoy it.

A woman is having coffee. She sits on a sunlit porch, writing on a legal pad, unaware that she's being watched. Fifty yards away, two men lurk in the shadows of a dense copse of trees by a river, unseen and silently debating a question preoccupying both of them.

One of them speaks. "I think we ought to do it today." Silence. "Y'think we oughta do it today?"

"Fuck if I know." Grudging acknowledgment of the topic.

"Well…are you ready?"

"I ain't never gonna be ready for this conversation."

"When d'you think we oughta do it?"

"This was your bright fuckin' idea. Why's it suddenly on me?"

"I'm jus' tryin' t'be considerate, asshole."

"Watcher mouth, shithead."

"Who you callin' shithead, fuckwad?"

"Oh, you wanna throw down now, hoss?"

Pause. Grumble. "I c'd take you any day 'o the week."

"Then the weeks where you live must have a No-Fuckin'-Way-Day."

"Don't change the goddamned subject."

"Why not? I don't much like it." Pause. "Let's forget the whole thing."

"Either we bring it up, or she does. It ain't gonna go away jus' 'cause you're chickenshit."

"Chickenshit who defended your sorry ass from the big bad holy roller, don't forget."

"Okay, that's it. I'm kickin' your ass all the way to Burlington." Pause. "After lunch."

"Keep it up 'n we ain't gonna have no sex life to argue about discussin'."

Sigh. "Arguin' with you's just another kind 'o foreplay, anyway."

"Yeah, 'n you're jus' about as good at it."

"This from the king 'o the five-second blowjob."

"My jaw gets to hurtin'."

"Oh yeah? Pain you some, does it? Tell that to my ass after that first time!"

"Simmer down, someone'll hear you goin' on." Pause. "You said it weren't that bad."

"Yeah, well, didn't wanna guilt you none."

"Don't fuckin' lie to me." Pause. Quietly. "I hate it when you lie to me."

"Well, I hate bein' lied to."

"What the hell's that mean?"

"When were you gonna tell me that Alma ain't gonna let Junior move out here?" Silence. "You weren't, were ya?"

"Ain't your affair."

"Ain't my affair? How d'ya figure that?"

"Between me'n Alma."

"I had to hear it from Junior, asshole. Y'know how that makes me feel? Like a fuckin' hired hand…s'cuse me, hired ass."

"You gotta talk that way?"

"What way's that?"

"Like you think I'm jus' here for the sex!"

Long pause. Quietly. "It's s'posed t'be our family now, 'member? I oughta know 'bout what's goin' on with it."

"It'll happen."

"But Alma…"

"Alma's had Junior her whole fuckin' life!"

"Okay, easy there…"

"She says I'm some kinda bad influence, or somethin'."

"Are you shittin' me? Bad influence? Yeah, you just influenced her into wantin' to go to school and run a business and fuckin' make somethin' of her life besides a shitty line house in the ass-end of Wyoming married to some grunt who c'n barely read and who'd probably beat the shit outta her."

Pause. "Nice speech. I feel all inspired."

"Shut up." Pause. "I guess you're a bad influence 'cause 'o me."

"I guess. It ain't decent, you know."

"Yeah, I know, we're goin' to Hell and takin' all our abominations with us." Long pause. "What're you gonna do 'bout Junior?"

"Nothin'."

"What?"

"I ain't gonna do nothin'. We are gonna get her out here if'n we have to get in the truck and drive to Riverton ourselves. She's over eighteen, ain't nothin' Alma c'n do 'bout it."

"Yeah. Damn straight."

"That s'posed to be a joke?"

"Hardy har har."

Pause. "I shouldn'a married her."

"How long you gonna torture yourself?"

"Wasn't right. Fuck, I was thinkin' 'bout somebody else when I was speakin' my goddamned sacred vows!"

"Uh…I hope you mean me."

"No, I mean the waitress at the diner where I had breakfast. 'O course I mean you!"

"Jus' checkin'."

"God almighty. When you gonna quit fuckin' askin' me stuff like that? How many times I gotta say it?"

"You sayin' it's rarer'n hen's teeth."

"Thought you was smart enough t'get the idea without me yammerin' on at you like some lovesick country singer on a two-day bender."

"Well, excuse me all to hell!"

"Don't be like that. Jesus Christ."

Long silence. Uncomfortable glances. "You ever sorry?"

"Sorry for what?"

"Y'know. All of it."

Sigh. "I'm sorry 'bout Alma. I'm sorry I hurt her 'n the girls. I'm sorry she had to divorce me to get me t'make a goddamned decision." Pause. Quietly. "I'm sure fuckin' sorry the world's so fulla hate for folks jus' wanna live peaceful, ain't hurtin' nobody."

"Yeah."

"That ain't what you was askin', though, was it?"

"Not really."

"Lookit me." Pause. "I ain't sorry I met you. Never. Y'hear me? I'm jus' sorry I let you drive away after that summer, I'm sorry for them twelve years we los'. I think on it sometimes, y'know? I look at what we got now and how goddamned good it is, and I think how we coulda had it for so much longer 'cept I was fuckin' scared shitless and I didn't know how not t'be."

Pause. "Thanks. Nice t'hear that."

A rueful head-shake. "You're a fuckin' idiot, y'know that?"

"Gee, you had me goin' there for awhile with all them nice things you was sayin'…"

"You don't got the first damned clue, do you?"

Pause. "No, I guess I don't."

"Seven goddamned years and you ain't got the picture yet? You know me better'n anyone. You expect me t'be able t'tell you about it? I ain't got the words. I never heard 'em and I never learnt 'em. I don't know how t'go about sittin' you down and sayin' 'Here's how I feel.' All I know how t'do is sleep with you even though I was brought up to think it was disgusting, 'n then quit job after job so's I could go away with you for a week, lie to a woman bore me two kids 'n never done me no wrong so's I could keep seein' you, and kiss you in broad daylight 'cause I just couldn't fuckin' stand not to. Then all I could think t'do was leave everthin' I ever knew, move thousands 'o miles away from my kids, take a strange man's money wasn't my own, 'n live out in the open where the men with the tire irons might find me and kill me." Pause. Deep breath. "And I done all that for you. So you'll jus' have t'let it go when it pisses me off that even knowin' all that you still gotta ask if I'm sorry, and you still wanna hear me say some kinda magic words that somehow mean more'n everthin' I ever done."

Pause. Sniff. "Jesus. Where'd that come from?"

"I guess from it drivin' me up the goddamned wall that you still don't seem t'have any idea of jus' how much I fuckin' love you."

A choked sound. A hesitation. "I'm sorry."

"What you got t'be sorry for?" Gently, reassuring. "I'm the one with the hamstrung tongue, cain't say the things I'd like to."

"For a man with a hamstrung tongue you sure been talkin' a lot."

Chuckles. "I guess you bring it outta me."

A blown nose, a sigh. "C'mere."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'd like kiss you till you're bright red with stubble-burn, if that's all right with you."

"Oh…I s'pose."

Pause.

Long pause.

"Well…if you insist we have this godawful conversation with Lizzie about our private affairs, I guess we oughta be gettin' it over with."

"Ain't no rush."

"'O course not, now that you're randier'n a bull."

"It ain't my fault you're too much man for me."

"Your shirt's untucked there. Better smarten up, else Lizzie'll think we been up t'no good."

"We ain't been…yet."

Heavy sigh. "C'mon, 'afore I lose my nerve."

"Oh…all right." A few steps. Pause. "Ennis?"

"What, Jack?"

"I hope you have an idea of how much I fuckin' love you."

Sigh. "Yeah, I do, 'cause I'm luckier 'n you. I got a man knows how to tell me so."

"You ain't luckier 'n me. I'm just lucky for different reasons." Walking. "Hmm. Mayhap we oughta give Lizzie a little demonstration…"

"Shut up."

"I bet she'd be interested…"

"I ain't listenin' t'this."

"Maybe you could manage more'n five seconds with an audience."

"That's it. Your ass is gettin' kicked to Burlington." Pause. "But yeah, after lunch."