A/N - Hello Everyone! Here is the final chapter, finally, and with it, the end of my first project. This has been fun beyond belief, and I've enjoyed reading and chatting with those of you that have followed me through this. I've learned a lot from each of you.

Special thanks, again, to H.G. Stewart for her patience and encouragement. If it hadn't been for her this would have never been posted, nor would it have the great summary that it does.

I have another story that is complete that I'll probably be posting in a couple days - different from this one. I think I'm what you would call 'hooked,' now. I'd like to keep going, but I just don't have that many ideas! I'm looking for suggestions (hint, hint) from anyone out there!

Again, thanks to all.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Dukes, and no infringements intended.


POT SHOTS

CHAPTER 19

GOING ON

Bo sat on the steps waiting for his cousin to pick him up. Luke had needed the General, so he'd dropped Bo off with a promise to pick him up later. The blonde wasn't worried. He hadn't been there long, and Luke was as dependable as they came. He'd be there. Just as he told himself that he heard the powerful engine of the General, though still a little ways away, even before he saw it. Luke slid the car to a stop.

"You wanna drive?"

"Na cuz, you go right ahead," Bo told him, sliding into the passenger seat.

"Hard day?" Luke asked, noticing that Bo had his head back and eyes closed.

"Not really," Bo said, turning to face him and giving him a smile. Luke had always been a worrier, but as he was getting older, he was perfecting it. Bo guessed that he'd given his oldest cousin enough things to worry about over the years, and he was now old enough to feel bad about it.

Accepting the answer on face value, Luke pressed the gas and they were off.


It had been a little over three years since Luke had almost lost his cousin to a crook who had taken a pot shot at them, two since Bo had lost the woman he loved to another bullet fired by a deranged would-be lover. A lot had happened in that time, and a lot had changed, most of all Bo.

Grief stricken didn't even begin to describe Bo following Sandy's death. The days before the funeral he had been catatonic. Then, when he'd finally broken down in that room in the Maverick household, he'd gotten so far down that the Dukes wondered if he'd ever recover. It had been a cruel twist of fate: surviving death, learning how to live again, finding love, and then having it ripped away before it had really even begun. Most people might have given up, but Bo didn't, just like he hadn't given up when he thought he might never walk or talk again. He admitted that he wanted to, both times, but his family and Sandy wouldn't let him, either time. Bo said that regardless of how he felt, he believed that everything happened for a reason. He believed he'd been shot so that he could learn how to live, really live, and to meet Sandy. He couldn't believe that God would have sent her to him, then taken her away without having some higher purpose in mind. He must have had a plan for Bo Duke.

Unfortunately, Bo didn't know what that plan was for a while. The only thing he knew was that he couldn't give up no matter how much he wanted to. His family had stood by him through everything, and he knew that giving up would hurt them. He also knew that Sandy would have killed him, saying she didn't retrain him on everything only to have him throw it all away. So he had to go on, he didn't have a choice.

In the days following Sandy's murder, Billy Ray proved himself to be as much a menace to society from behind bars as he'd been when he was free. As the heir to the largest oil fortune in Texas, his name alone was enough to ignite a wildfire of activity. Outsiders converged upon Hazzard county in droves beginning with the convoy of fancy cars occupied by the high-priced attorneys he hired to defend him. The media wasn't far behind. By the time the Dukes returned from Texas, the normally quiet roads surrounding Hazzard that normally only saw an occasional chase of the General Lee needed a traffic cop. Hazzard Square was bumper to bumper, and drivers found themselves fighting over parking spaces. There wasn't a vacant hotel room for miles, affecting occupancy as far away as Capitol City, and local diners had customers lined up outside.

Boss Hogg and Rosco should have been ecstatic. The names Rosco P. Coltrane and Enos Strate were gaining national attention as the two diligent law enforcement officials who apprehended the notorious billionaire. Hazzard's sheriff handled the publicity surprisingly well, reverting back to the days when he'd been an honest and a good lawman. He represented himself and the county in a respectable manner, and Hazzard, Georgia found its way onto the map.

Of course, Boss Hogg had to stake his own claim to fame, but forgoing his usual habit of capitalizing on a situation for his own gain, he followed Rosco's lead and presented an image of a concerned and competent County Commissioner. Behind the scenes, Boss was delighted. All the visitors were good for the economy, and since he owned almost everything, he stood to profit legally. No one could have ever guessed that things would get so far out of hand.

Because the crime took place in Hazzard, Rosco had the choice to keep Billy Ray locked up or to transfer him to a larger facility. The Hazzard County Jail wasn't really designed to accommodate the FBI's most wanted or long-term prisoners. Except for the local rowdies, most criminal were transferred. Billy Ray, however, wasn't most criminals. He was Hazzard's first murderer in over twenty-five years, and his crime, had in essence, claimed one of their own. Sandy Maverick may not have been from Hazzard, but she was about to marry a Duke and that made her a local in everyone's eyes. Knowing that her killer was accustomed to a lifestyle that wealth could provide, Rosco decided to extract his own justice. Being held in his jail, Billy Ray would be anything but comfortable.

Though it started out as a valiant effort to provide a little southern revenge, it quickly spiraled out of control. Billy Ray's lawyers filed motion after motion, drawing attention away from the actual crime, finally winning a motion for a change of venue. For the sake of public appearance, Boss, Rosco, and Hazzard's County Attorney fought it, knowing that they'd lose and relieved when they did.

Relinquishing custody of the accused, Billy Ray was transferred to Atlanta, where the legal antics continued. The game wasn't really about winning the case. It didn't take several of the country's brightest attorneys to know that wasn't going to happen. Finding 12 impartial jurors in Hazzard might not have been possible, but even 12 impartial jurors in Atlanta could only draw one logical conclusion: guilty. The shenanigans were simply a way to exasperate the prosecution into a plea.

Billy Ray might not have been bright enough to commit his crime without the presence of a few hundred witnesses, but he hadn't been dumb enough to pull the trigger in Texas, either. His and Sandy's home state dished out the death penalty like candy, and had no problem carrying it out. In an ironic coincidence, committing an offense punishable by death in the state who's very laws had prompted a several year moratorium on the punishment, sentences were no longer carried out as quickly in Georgia. At the very least, Billy Ray had increased his life span by several years by choosing Hazzard over Texas.

As their bag of tricks were depleted, the legal eagles eventually begged for a guilty plea in exchange for a life sentence. The prosecutor knew that he had an open and shut case, and wasn't in a position to have to agree, though it would save the taxpayers the expense of going through a trial. He didn't feel the decision was his to make. He needed to speak to the Dukes and the Mavericks.

The two oldest Maverick brothers, along with Luke Duke, were in agreement; they wanted Billy Ray to fry. However, neither Timmy or Bo were doing that well, and their need for justice was quickly outweighed by the need to do what was right for the youngest members of each family. They didn't think that either of the boys could handle a trail where they would have had to relive the ordeal.

Bo summed it up best, saying that killing Billy Ray wasn't going to bring back Sandy. He then added that since they'd been forced to live with the pain, Billy Ray should be forced to do the same. Living in prison was no picnic, especially for a billionaire, and Bo thought that punishment was more befitting. Timmy agreed, and Billy Ray was transferred to the Georgia state penitentiary to live out the rest of his natural life. Sandy's case was officially closed, and that's when Bo found himself at a crossroads.

He felt the pain everyday, but following what was being done in the name of justice had given him something to concentrate on. When it was over, he didn't know what to do, wondering which way to go. He'd promised his family that he wouldn't do anything to hurt himself because he loved them too much. Yet, the pain was always there, and in some ways he felt guilty at the thought of going on. The days weren't so bad; there was work to do and he could keep busy. At night, he found himself gazing to the heavens hoping that Sandy really was looking down on him. In between, his friends and family were there when he needed them. Despite feeling guilty, he had to go on. As long as he lived and breathed, his body wasn't giving him a choice. Yet, there was an emptiness inside him that he doubted would ever be filled, and an ache that would never go away.


"Bo?" his uncle called to him.

"Yeah, Uncle Jesse?" Bo yelled back from the barn.

"Bo, I hate to ask you to do this, but that was the parts manager at Tractor Heaven in Atlanta on the phone," he informed his youngest. "The part's in," he said somewhat sheepishly.

"And you want me to go get it?" Bo asked, grinning.

"Well, yeah. We really do need it, and while I wish Luke was here to go with you, I just can't wait for it any longer."

"I'm gone," Bo told him, digging out the keys to the General.

Luckily, Luke had gotten a ride with Daisy that morning despite Bo telling him that he wouldn't be needing their car. One of their neighbors had taken ill, and the Dukes volunteered to help out. Jesse informed the boys that he needed one of them to stay and help him, so they drew straws to see who would go. Luke won, since they both knew that Jesse was harder to work for than any neighbor could be. Grinning at his cousin as he climbed in with Daisy, he told him to have a good day. Bo thanked him for his concern.

An hour and a half later, the General was parked in front of the store in Atlanta, and the part was securely tucked inside the trunk. Bo raised his hand to his forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat before they could slide into his eyes. His blonde hair was already soaked and matted to his head. Regardless of the fact that it wasn't even noon, it was already almost one hundred degrees. It was one of the hottest days Bo could ever remember. When he lowered his hand, his eye spotted the small convenience shop located on the opposite side of the street. "A cold drink for the ride home sure sounds good," he told himself. Reaching into his pocket for a dollar, Bo wandered over to the store trying to decide what beverage sounded best.

A few minutes later, he stepped back out in the heat, having already removed the top and gulping down nearly half of the bottle of Coke. When he stopped to replace the cap, he saw something standing next to the General, or rather someone. Bo's feet remained glued in place as his eyes stared straight ahead. A little girl with long, auburn hair was standing next to General Lee. She looked right at him and smiled, and Bo gasped as he caught the unmistakable emerald eyes. It was like looking at a small version of Sandy, and Bo couldn't help but wonder if that's what their little girl might have looked like, if they'd married and had one. For several minutes, Bo could do nothing but gawk. Finally, having to know who she was and why she was standing next to the General, he moved. When his foot left the curb, the little girl turned and ran.

"Wait!" Bo called to her, dodging cars to try to catch her. She rounded the corner, and Bo took off in hot pursuit. He kept up with her as she rounded another corner, but could never quite catch her. When Bo flew around the third one, she was no longer in sight. He turned in every direction to try and see where she'd went, but it was like she had disappeared into thin air. Bo stopped to catch his breath, continuing to sweep the area. Half way down the block, he saw a crowd of people gathered, looking up at something. Wondering if the little girl may have ran to someone in the crowd, Bo decided to join them. Only when he realized that she wasn't there, did he stop to look up.

Directly in front of him was a five story building, and something was sticking over the edge at the top.

"What's going on?" he asked the person he was standing next to.

"Someone's gonna jump," the lady replied.

Though Bo didn't actually see a person, he could only assume that there must be some truth to that assumption. Otherwise, there wouldn't be any reason for everyone to be standing there watching.

The police and emergency vehicles had been called, but hadn't arrived yet. The only ones on the scene were the on-lookers on the ground, and whoever was on the roof of that building. Never being one to think or wait, Bo decided to see what he could do. The building was older and had an attached fire escape on the side. He and Luke had scaled buildings hundreds of times in Hazzard, either running from or getting to a required destination. Not thinking twice, he climbed the rungs until he was able to peer over the top. He couldn't believe what he saw.

Several people were already on the roof, trying to talk the jumper. When Bo looked to see who it was that wanted to fall to their death, his heart almost stopped. What he had seen hanging over the edge was part of a wheel, and it was attached to a wheelchair. The occupant of the chair was a blonde boy, not more than ten or eleven years old, and he looked enough like Bo to have been his own son. Bo listened as those around him tried to talk him into coming away from the edge.

"Johnny, please don't do this," a young woman begged as she took a step closer. "Do you know how much this would hurt your mom and dad?"

"It'll hurt em more having to take care of me like this for the rest of my life," the little boy sobbed.

"Johnny, you won't be in that chair for the rest of your life."

"Yes, I will! I just know it!" he screamed back.

"Johnny, your spinal chord wasn't severed honey. There's no reason why you shouldn't be able to learn to walk again."

"But, I'll never play ball!" he screamed, as the tears rolled down his cheek.

"You don't know that for sure, Johnny," the lady told him.

"You don't either!" he accused.

"No, I don't, but don't you think you should at least try before you do something like this?"

"Don't want to try! It won't work, anyhow. I know!" he cried, placing his hands on the wheels as if he was getting ready to roll them off the roof.

"Johnny!" the lady called.

"Don't come any closer," he told her, now having one wheel balancing precariously.

"Okay, okay!" she said, stopping and raising her hands in the air.

Bo listened to the entire exchange, getting a sense of de ja vu. Waving his finger slightly, he managed to attract the attention of the woman who was trying to coax Johnny down. From the corner of her eye, she looked at him, trying not to give him away. He motioned to her that he was going to do something, though she couldn't quite follow what it was. Nodding slightly, she was willing to try almost anything, feeling like she was losing the battle.

A few feet below the rooftop was a ledge. What the original purpose of it had been, Bo didn't know. It was an older building, so he didn't understand if it had a practical purpose or was simply a place to set decorative pots with flowers. At the moment, he didn't care. It was narrow, but wide enough that he could slide along it while still holding onto the top. As long as he was careful, he should be fine, but one error in judgment would have sent him splattering to the ground, providing a cushion for Johnny should he decide to follow. As he started his trek, the crowd below gasped.

When he was just a few feet away from the teetering wheel, Bo looked at the lady over the top. He needed a momentary distraction so that Johnny wouldn't see him. Whoever she was, she was bright and she understood exactly what she needed to do. She started talking to the boy about the things they were going to do to get him out of that chair, making sure to motion with her hands so that he would not only listen, but watch. Bo winked at her, then took the last few steps. Holding himself with one hand, he reached out with the other and pushed the wheel back as hard as he could. It worked, but the force knocked it and Johnny to the floor of the roof, and caused Bo to loose his own footing. The crowd let out a loud cry as Bo tried to hold himself up while placing his feet back on the narrow sliver of concrete. Several people rushed to Johnny, while a few others rushed to help Bo. Between all of them, Bo regained his balance and was pulled up to the roof, where he laid for a few minutes not too far away from the boy.

An hour later, Bo found himself in a small office. He had given his statement to the officers who arrived shortly after he had been escorted off of the roof. The minutes following the incident had left him shaken, only then beginning to get his breathing back under control. He'd spoken to well-wishers, congratulators, and the press as well as the officers who were trying to piece together exactly what happened. Bo told them that he didn't know what had transpired prior to his involvement. He'd been searching for a phantom child with auburn hair when he came upon the scene. He decided to leave that part out of his statement lest they decide to lock him up. Now, he was sitting alone, unsure as to what to do next, still not even knowing where he was. He had been hustled into the little room via a stairwell, and in all the commotion, he hadn't asked.

The door opened, and his partner from the roof stepped inside. She was tall, with shoulder length black hair and hazel eyes. She appeared to be about Bo's age, and he noted that she looked a lot better than she had the last time he'd seen her. She smiled at him, as she handed him a cup of coffee, then took a seat behind the desk.

"We haven't been introduced, yet. My name is Nicole, and I just wanted to thank you for what you did today."

Bo nodded, smiling back. "That's ok. My name's Bo."

"You really were wonderful," she told him.

"It was nothing," Bo shrugged.

"Oh no, it was something," she assured him, pausing a moment as she scrutinized him. "Well, I'm sure that the officers have your contact information should they need to speak with you further. I don't think we'll be needing it, but if we do, I should be getting a copy of the report. I'd like to thank you again, and let you know that you're free to go."

"How's the boy?" Bo asked.

"Johnny? He's settled in his bed, but he's still upset."

"What happened to him?" Bo asked.

"He was in a car accident."

"Can I see him?" Bo asked.

"Well, I don't know..."

"Please?" Bo asked again.

"Okay," Nicole agreed, though it was against her professional judgment. Something about the good Samaritan told her to trust him.

She led Bo to an elevator, then walked him down a corridor to the room where the little boy was. Passing by all the rooms, Bo assumed he was in a hospital.

"He's in there," Nicole told him, pointing to the small figure in the bed.

Bo nodded, then thanked her. Telling herself that she really didn't know him, she decided to wait outside the door.

"Hi!" Bo said to the little boy, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed.

Johnny's blue eyes looked up at him, but it was obvious he wasn't happy to see him. "Who are you?"

"My name's Bo."

"What do you want? Haven't you done enough already?"

"I just wanted to see if you were ok," Bo said, ignoring the accusation.

"Does it look like I'm ok?" the boy asked sarcastically.

"Well, now that you mention it, yeah, it looks like you're fine."

Johnny glared at him. That wasn't the answer he was expecting. "Well, I'm not, and you wouldn't be either if you weren't ever going to walk again."

"Son, I understand how you feel. Really, I do...," Bo tried to tell him, but was cut off.

"No you don't! How could you?" Johnny yelled, turning his head away from Bo to hide the tears.

Bo took a deep breath, wondering what to do. Suddenly remembering something, he stood up and removed his wallet from his back pocket. "Johnny, let me show you something," he told the boy, walking over to the bed and holding up the photograph. Johnny turned his head and glanced at it. It took a minute, but he finally took it from Bo's hand as he looked up to the man who had saved his life.

"Is this you?" Johnny asked.

"It sure is. So you see, I do understand what you're feeling."

"You couldn't walk, either?" Johnny asked.

"Nope!" Bo replied, "and I was in worse shape than you, cause I couldn't use my hands or arms, and I couldn't talk."

"What happened to you?" Johnny asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I got shot."

"Really? Are you a policeman?"

"No," Bo laughed. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But...but...you look fine now! You crawled all the way up the side of the building!" Johnny exclaimed, as if Bo needed to be reminded.

"Yep, and if you work real hard, it sounds like you'll be able to do those things, too."

Bo talked to Johnny for a long time, and the boy began developing an almost hero-worship toward him. By the time they were finished, Johnny promised that he would work real hard so that just like Bo, he would get better, too. He wanted to be a ball player, and seeing Bo, he began to believe that it just might be possible.

"Well son, I really gotta get going. My uncle sent me here for a part hours ago, and he's gonna wonder where I've been. He can still tan my hide if he wants."

Johnny laughed at the thought that his new hero could still be spanked. As he handed the picture back to Bo, he asked who the lady was in the picture with him.

"She was my therapist," Bo informed him.

"She's pretty," Johnny said.

"Yes, she is," Bo agreed, trying to control the sob that he felt coming. "Well, Johnny, I gotta go. You work hard and take care of yourself, okay partner?"

"Okay! Hey Bo?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you come back and see me?"

Bo smiled. "Sure! And I'll tell you what, you work hard and get better, and I'll give you a ride in my car, the General Lee. It's a racing car with welded doors and everything. Fastest car in Georgia."

"Really?" Johnny asked.

"Really!"

When Bo stepped out of the room, he was surprised to find Nicole waiting for him. She smiled at him, and suddenly he felt embarrassed.

"You were wonderful with him. He's been here for a month, and no one's gotten anywhere yet."

"That's probably cause I do know exactly how he feels."

Nicole listened to Bo's story, then made a suggestion.


Some people walk into churches and say that they are guided by a higher being. Bo looked up and found himself in front of a rehabilitation center, guided there by a little girl with auburn hair.

He found a way to honor Sandy's memory, and to channel all his own sorrow. She was gone, but her spirit, her desire to still help was still there, and Bo decided to funnel it through himself.

He looked around at all the people at the center, and reminded himself that he was once in that same condition. Had it not been for the love of his family, he may have still been a resident in one. If anyone could understand what their patients were feeling, it was him. He could not only understand, but he could provide them with hope, not just in words, but as living proof that all things were possible.

After accepting Nicole's invitation, he was provided training, and began volunteering a few times a week as a guidance, grief, spiritual counselor, and friend all rolled into one. He'd always been emotional and compassionate, that came naturally. Just as Sandy had for him, he could look past a patient's current condition and see the person that they used to be, and using himself as an example, knew what they could be in the future. He talked to them as if they weren't handicapped or hurt, and just as people responded to Sandy, they responded to Bo. He talked to all the new patients, then worked with the ones that either requested him or that the staff assigned him to. After so long, most of the residents knew him and loved him, and the staff did, too, but they weren't the only ones that were benefiting from his visits. In helping others, Bo was helping himself.

Though not a therapist of the medical kind, the youngest Duke soon discovered that he wasn't only honoring Sandy's memory, but that he was keeping her memory alive, and that felt great. Watching the people that he was working with get better was helping him to heal. Sharing his own experiences may have provided inspiration to the residents at the center, but he was learning from them, too. It didn't take long to figure out that he wasn't the only one who had ever dealt with loss. He was making friends, and not just with the patients.

Bo learned that Nicole Sampson was the center's administrator, and though she didn't work one on one in the therapy rooms, she was kind and caring. She had recently moved to Atlanta from Boston, needing a change after her own husband of two years and the child she'd been carrying were killed by a drunk driver late one Friday night. The two quickly became friends, knowing that the other understood. It was a new experience for Bo, being friends with a female, but it was exactly what they both needed. Neither of them were ready to move forward in that department, so there wasn't any pressure. They shared an easy and comfortable relationship, able to talk, laugh, cry, and enjoy each other's company without any strings attached. It also provided them a safe haven when one needed an escort of the opposite sex. No one was sure exactly what their relationship was, but it kept the well wishers from trying to fix them up with others. Bo liked her, and in the past few weeks, he'd found himself looking at her a little differently, and he'd caught her looking at him. Whatever happened, he knew they'd take it slow. It had taken a long time to even be able to think about a future with someone else, something he'd never thought he'd ever be able to do; now, he believed it might be possible, some day.


Luke glanced over at his cousin, knowing he was tired. The work he did at the center could be rewarding, but there were days that it could take a lot out of Bo. This looked like one of those days. Thinking that his cousin was asleep, he turned on the radio.

He didn't think much of the new song that was playing. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. When the singer got to the chorus, Luke almost lost control of the General. Suddenly, he knew why it sounded familiar. He had heard it before, but only once, the night before Bo's life had changed. The singer was singing about his little Texas Twister, and it was none other than Sandy's own brother, Timmy. Luke didn't know whether to turn the radio off before Bo woke up and heard it or to try to pretend that he hadn't noticed. Before he could decide, he saw Bo's eyes fly open. Seemed he hadn't been asleep after all.

It was too late. Bo had heard it, and Luke didn't dare turn it off. He looked over at Bo, who stared at the radio for a while before turning his head to look out the window. He wasn't able to completely hide his face, and Luke saw a couple of tears running down his cheek. He knew that Bo was probably trying to hide them from him, still embarrassed at times when he showed weakness, though there was no need to be. Bo's ability to feel was one of the things that Luke loved most about his cousin, and had actually envied about him for most of their lives. All he could now was to lay a comforting hand on Bo's shoulder. He wasn't expecting it, but Bo reached over and laid his hand on top of Luke's. They listened to the rest of the song in silence, and then heard the DJ announce that the artist was an up and coming Tim Maverick. Luke gave Bo's shoulder a squeeze before returning his hand to the steering wheel.

Bo turned to face forward again, sliding his hand over his face to wipe away the evidence that he knew Luke had already seen.

"Bo?" Luke asked.

"Huh?" he responded, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

"I'm proud of you, Bo," he told him, causing the blonde to turn and look at him, somewhat surprised by the statement, but pleased. Then Luke added, "and she would be, too."

Bo gave him a smile larger than the state of Texas. "Thanks, Luke. Now let's get home. Uncle Jesse's making crawdad bisque for dinner."

Luke hit the accelerator a little more and the dirt kicked up as they saw the sign welcoming them home. Things were normal, or as normal as they could get in Hazzard.