2
The first time she sees him with a gun is late in the fall, and she's convinced him to take her to the range. He'd spent a class period debating the pros and cons of Colt with a somewhat baffled but admiring history professor, and afterward she'd demanded to know how he knew so much about his weaponry. He'd smiled the absent-minded smile and said something about his father being a big hunter, and she's asked him to take her to the range.

They had to drive an hour to find one, but find one they did, because he couldn't seem to tell her no, and because this mystery that was his past fascinated her simply by its absence.

He rents them a Colt, a .45, and she insists on paying for it, since "come on, Sam, this isn't a date," and so that she isn't the only one paying for things, he rents a Glock, just to give her a wider range of experience. (She teases him that it's a toy he hasn't gotten to play with in a while, and his eyes get so far-away that she doesn't mention it again.)

He handles the Colt assuredly, she thinks of the embrace or conversation of an old friend, and tells her the names of its pieces, loads it, presses it into her hand to feel the weight. (The tips of his fingers brush her palm and linger for a second's part.) And he stands behind her and guides her arms, tentatively, correcting her stance, making sure her ear protection is on (twice), and when she asks, his arms go around her to help her line up the shot.

The recoil throws her into him and he catches her with one arm, steadying the gun's barrel toward the floor with the other, and for a golden moment he's holding her as tightly as she's ever been held, but then they're both standing, laughing, making jokes, and it's a golden memory.

She hands him the Glock and tells him to show off, come on, she can see he wants to, and he laughs again and asks if she wants him take one shot or two. She says he can empty the whole - what's it called again? Oh- clip, for all she cares, she just wants to see if he's any good.

When he stands to fire his body moves like dancing, in one smooth motion, and six recoils rock him back onto one heel, and his eyes are perfectly clear but he looks as if he wants to forget the single hole that six bullets made in the center of the target.
She takes his hand as they leave, and for an hour of driving, he doesn't let go.