The Lancer Fanfiction Archive

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Dori

 

 

Listen

The old adobe hacienda often rang with the boisterous chatter of crowded parties, the rumble of heated family discussions and even the clamor of an occasional gunfight.  Tonight the ranch house was calm and peaceful.  Muted by thick walls and high ceilings, the only disturbances were the ordinary, unimportant sounds of a household on the brink of slumber.  But sometimes it’s the most insignificant details that truly tell the tale. 

~~~~~

Listen…

A staccato ‘rat-a-tat-tat’ meant Teresa was bustling down the hallway.  At a guess, she’d thrown a warm dressing gown over her nightdress, but taken the time to lace up sturdy everyday shoes. 

No doubt she was off to replenish the supply of coffee and sandwiches.  It was something she saw to no matter who was burning the midnight oil…working on Lancer’s never-ending mounds of paperwork.  No protests served to convince her that this extra effort was unnecessary.  Caring for the Lancer men-folk was her responsibility and a privilege she guarded with fierce pride.

A faint, affectionate smile crossed his lips as the footsteps faded into the distance.

~~~~~

Listen…

Spurs bounced along the floor with a metallic jingle.  After dozing for some hours down in the Great Room, Johnny was finally heading to bed.

Thanks to a full slate of ranch chores and a day that started about the time his ‘social activities’ in Boston used to end, Scott was dead tired most evenings.  But he still wasn’t comfortable following his brother’s example—nodding off over a game of checkers or sprawled out on one of the over-stuffed easy chairs.  It was a just bit too undignified for his taste.  He preferred to do any snoring in the privacy of his own room.

Over time though, he’d come to realize that Johnny’s willingness to relax his guard that much was an amazing sign of trust.  His brother had learned a lot of lessons the hard way, and one of them was not to give anyone too much credit.  So being open and vulnerable around his family showed how much he had changed.  

A door closed with a gentle click, interrupting his thoughts.  Perhaps he was reading too much into his brother’s casual habit, but it pleased him to believe that Johnny felt safe here.  One had a right to expect such sanctuary in the place you called ‘home’.

~~~~~~

Listen…

There was no mistaking that steady, measured tread.  It was solid and uncompromising, just like the man who made it.

His father swung a lot of weight in these parts… and deservedly so.  Murdoch had carved an empire out of the wilderness, held it against all comers and still retained a sense of compassion and decency.  Physical strength and moral character aside, though, he wasn’t always the easiest man to live with.  Even Teresa admitted that he had his faults. 

Still—hearing those footsteps—an image came to mind of a very small boy waiting for a giant of a man to come and hear his goodnights.  Altogether too foolish and wistful a thought to ever be spoken aloud, and one he would never admit to in the light of day. 

But what he’d once told Murdoch was true—the past didn’t always die that easy.  And perhaps…in some cases…it shouldn’t.

~~~~~~~~

“Let the person who has ears…..listen!”  Matthew 11:15

 

~ end ~

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