Author's note: This is not chapter 18. This is an interlude consisting of three drabbles that take place during the time I skipped over while Jack and Ennis were on the mountain. Mostly cutesie and comical, but enjoyable none the less, I think. Hope you enjoy!

"Did you bring any painkillers?"

Jack was kneeling by the small stream splashing water over his face. He'd just finished shaving and was trying to ease the burn from using a razor with soap lather instead of shaving cream (he knew he'd forgotten something.

He sat up, patted his face dry with a towel and looked over to Ennis sitting on a log and inspecting the bottom of his foot.

"Painkillers? I might have some aspirin. Why?"

"I cut my fuckin' foot on a rock by the waterfall."

Jack stood and walked to the tent, tossing his towel over a tree branch as he went. He crawled in, shoved aside some clothes that were strewn over the ground and found his duffel bag. He reached inside and fished around until he felt a familiar plastic bottle, then returned outside to Ennis.

"Here ya go."

Ennis took the bottle and looked it over skeptically.

"What's wrong?" Jack frowned, hands on hips.

Ennis squinted, reading some fine print.

"They're expired."

"What?" Jack snatched the bottle away and found the date hidden near the bottom of the warning label.

November 1999

"How'd ya even see that? I thought ya had bad eyes."

"I can see when I need to. Anyway, I'm funny 'bout pills. Don't take 'em that much."

Jack pushed the pill bottle back into Ennis' hands.

"Well they'll still work, jest won't be as strong."

"But they're old."

"Fer cryin' out loud, Ennis. If ya want the goddamned pills fer yer foot take some. There's nothin' wrong with 'em."

Ennis gave Jack an uncertain look then finally poured two pills into his hand and swallowed them.

"Is the cut deep? Does it hurt real bad?"

"Not too deep—not bad enough ta need stitches anyway. But, yes, it hurts like a fucker otherwise I wouldn't a' asked fer anythin'. Got a pretty good tolerance fer pain."

Jack sat down next to Ennis and nudged his shoulder affectionately.

"Didn't seem like it was hurtin' ya too much earlier…"

Ennis smirked. "Yeah, well, I was a little distracted."

Jack chuckled. "You want me ta kiss it n' make it all better?"

Ennis rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Twist."

Jack laughed, deep and full. "Ya know that seems ta be yer favorite thing ta say ta me. I'm startin' ta think I should jest lop off my tongue or somethin'."

Ennis looked down at his foot, avoiding Jack's eyes, making himself busy.

"Jest consider it a endearment."

Jack smiled wide. "All right. I can live with that."

"Do you smell that?"

Jack sat up in the early morning light, pushed the sleeping bag down from his naked chest.

"Smell what?" Ennis mumbled into the covers. He was curled up on his side still half asleep.

"It smells like shit!"

Ennis rolled onto his stomach. "Well, don't look at me."

Jack chuckled. "No, I'm bein' serious. Smells like somethin' rotten mixed with a little cabbage n' onions."

Ennis moaned. "What the hell're you ramblin' on about, I—"

Ennis started to sit up and then crinkled his nose.

"Damn. Now that is rank."

"Ah ha! I told ya! What the hell is it, Ennis?"

Ennis sat up completely, sleepy look still plastered across his face.

"Smells kind a' like a calf that has blackleg—only worse by 'bout ten. Might be a dead skunk?"

"Smells like the devil ta me."

"Yeah well you wouldn't know a skunk from a hole in the ground."

Jack puffed out his chest. "Now what in the hell is that supposed ta mean?"

"Mean's you ain't been out in the wilderness fer ages, so stop yer bellyachin' while I figure out where the hell that smell's comin' from."

Ennis tossed off the sleeping bag, pulled on his pants and crawled out of the tent. Jack searched for his own pair of pants and then struggled to crawl and button.

When he got outside he was immediately struck by the smell—overwhelming his senses, causing him to nearly gag. He brought his arm up to cover his nose and mouth.

"Jesus Christ!"

Ennis was standing by the offending object smeared just outside the tent. It was a skunk, ripped up and rotting only two feet from the entrance.

"Holy fuck! This thing looks like it's been rottin' out here fer weeks."

"Told ya it was a skunk. Looks like a coyote left us a little gift."

"I don't care if it's a fuckin' moon man, the smell makes me wanna puke!"

Ennis held his hand up to his nose. "We're jest gonna have ta roll up our sleeves and clean it up."

He looked over to Jack, eyebrows raised. Jack took a step back.

"Why the hell're you lookin' at me?"

Ennis shrugged, shooed a fly away from his face.

"Yer jest so damned sexy…"

"Oh, bullshit. Yer tryin' ta sweet-talk me in ta takin' care a' that disemboweled skunk. You got another thing comin' ya asshole."

"I figured, you know, since ya haven't been out in the wilderness fer a while, it might be good ta reacquaint yerself with some dirty work. I could make some breakfast, and…"

"Hold on." Jack help up a hand, not liking the direction the conversation was going. "Why can't you clean this up while I make breakfast? Yer the ranch hand here, yer used ta this sorta thing."

"Yeah, and I'm on vacation."

Jack glared at Ennis. He stood there for a minute, kicking dirt around then finally he straightened up and smiled.

"Okay, let's play fer it."

"What?"

Jack waved Ennis over, away from the offending skunk corpse.

"Rock, paper, scissors. Let's play fer it."

Ennis looked doubtful. "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

He fisted his hand and held it out in front of him expectantly. Ennis stood, unmoving, then finally sighed and held his hand out too.

"Okay."

Jack smiled. "Ready?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Okay, I'm gonna say 'one, two, three' and then we start."

Ennis nodded.

"All right. One…two…three…Rock—"

Ennis surprised Jack by prematurely thrusting his hand out flat in the "paper" gesture. Jack stopped.

"You did it too early."

"No, I won." He pointed to Jack's closed fist. "Paper covers rock."

Jack laughed and shook his head.

"I didn't even get a chance ta go."

"I though you were jest countin' ta three."

"And then I was goin' a say, 'rock, paper, scissors, shoot!'"

"Hell, ya didn't tell me all that."

"I thought ya already knew! Everybody knows that!"

"Well I don't sit around playin' games with myself all day!"

"Goddamnit, Ennis!" Jack threw his hands up in the air.

"Okay, okay, let's start over."

Ennis held his hand out in a fist and waited for Jack to participate. Jack hesitantly joined.

"This time I'm jest gonna go 'rock, paper, scissors' okay?"

"Yep. Got it."

Jack eyed Ennis wearily then squared his shoulders.

"All right. Rock, paper, scissors, shoo—"

Ennis held his hand out like a pair of scissors before Jack could finish.

"Ennis, what the fuck?"

"You said you were gonna say 'rock, paper, scissors' and so I shot!"

"Yeah, but yer s'posed ta go after I say 'shoot'!"

"I don't know were ya learned yer skills, but that ain't the way I play."

"Oh, this from Mr. I don't sit around playin' games with myself!"

Ennis held his hand up, silencing Jack.

"Nope. You loose by default fer bein' too fuckin' confusin'."

He smiled. "Have fun. Think I brought some tomato juice in the food bag, if that helps."

Ennis walked to the fire pit to start breakfast, leaving Jack standing with his mouth open and his hand still in a loose fist.

Jack took a long swig of whiskey and then passed the bottle to Ennis. Ennis grabbed it, nodded a 'thank you' in his direction, and took a swallow himself.

"Wait, wait…wait, Jack, go back…whut were ya sayin'?" He slurred.

Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and belched under his breath.

"Was I sayin' somethin'?"

"Yeah, you was talkin' 'bout that one time at the rodeo…"

Jack furrowed his eyebrows, thinking. "I'm always talkin' 'bout that one time at the rodeo…"

Ennis took another swig. "No, remember? You were talkin' 'bout that one fella from Russia…"

"Shit, I finished tellin' that story near twenty minutes ago."

Jack grabbed the bottle from Ennis. "Yer drunk. I'm cuttin' you off."

"Yer drunk too."

"Yeah, well, 'parently I can hold my liquor better n' you."

He lifted the bottle to his lips and took pleasure in the way the warm alcohol burnt all the way down his throat to his stomach. He wiped his mouth again and settled back against the log.

"All right, so this one time probably back in 64 or so, me n' this fella name a' Bud were waitin' around the registration table, ya know, checkin' out what sort a' competition we were goin' ta have, and who had straggled in from the last town."

He took another drink.

"So anyway, we were standin' there, jest shootin' the shit, when this big guy walks up ta the registration table. I'm talkin' big, like a fuckin' lumberjack or somethin'," Jack stretched his hands over his head to demonstrate. "6'5, huge beard…mean lookin' fucker."

Ennis nodded as though he understood and wasn't drunk off his ass.

"Naturally, me n' Bud get a little closer to the table, tryin' ta figure out where the hell this goliath came from. Turns out he's from Russia, doin' who knows what in no man's land Oklahoma, fuckin' around with the rodeo cuz he's, get this, 'jest a little bored.'

"He was pretty much done registerin' when the guy at the table realizes he's got this huge plastic satchel, travel case. Looks like somethin' kinda threatenin', and in those days, I'm sure you remember, anyone with a accent was interrogated like they were all fuckin' spies. Anyway, the guy at the table makes him lift up the case so it can be inspected."

Jack paused for affect. "Know what was inside?"

Ennis shook his head.

Jack waited a moment longer before answering. "Kittens."

Ennis frowned. "Kittens?"

"A fuckin' Russian with a litter a' kittens. Turns out the family he'd been stayin' with had a cat that was birthin' and gave the litter to the Russian cause he was a fan a' cats. Wierdest fuckin' thing I ever saw."

Ennis crinkled his nose in doubt. "Kittens…"

"Did I stutter?"

"That's a fuckin' weird story, Twist. Beats the hell out a' some a' yer others."

"It's out there, but every word's truth."

Ennis cleared his throat and sat up. "You wanna pass me that bottle, there, bud?"

Jack took another sip and them screwed the cap on, held it back from Ennis.

"Dunno. All this liquor goin' ta keep ya from gettin' it up later?"

"Hell no! What're you talkin' bout? I got an iron will. Like a steam roller."

Jack laughed as Ennis stood and stumbled towards him. He plopped down and grabbed the bottle away from Jack, took a sip then tossed it aside.

"Sex all you think about, Twist?"

He brought his face close to Jack's, their lips almost touching. Jack's heartbeat began to pound in his chest and he felt his dick start to tingle.

"It is when I'm with you."

Ennis chuckled seductively and slid his hand down in between Jack's legs, rubbed his growing erection through his jeans. Jack closed his eyes. Ennis licked a trail from Jack's neck to his ear, whispering.

"Why you dirty, little, son…of…a…"

Suddenly he was still. Jack's eyes flew open.

"Ennis?" He shook the man leaning against him.

"Ennis? You fall asleep?"

He grabbed him by his shoulders and pushed him away so he could see his face. Ennis' head rolled back and Jack could now hear soft snoring. He sighed, then wrapped his arms around the comatose man and tried to stand.

It took him a couple of tries but he finally got on his feet and had Ennis under the armpits. He dragged him back to the tent and somehow got him inside, then pulled off his boots and jeans and covered him with the sleeping bag.

Jack sat back on his heels and wiped sweat from his brow. He looked down at sleeping Ennis.

"I'll tell you what, you owe me one big time in the mornin'."

Jack took off his shirt and laid back, easily slipping into a deep sleep.