Even Cowboys Get Hip Replacements

Chapter 1: Ride ’em, cowboy

Hank screwed his hips mightily, ignoring the bullet of pain that shot through the right one in favor of the winning result the motion produced: a high-pitched cry of appreciation he hadn’t been able to get Dawn to make since before he hung up his red Hawk wings over a year ago. But ninety days of inpatient rehab plus six months of aftercare, followed by holding hands while he’d sobbed to a psychotherapist and learned how to recognize and separate himself from the triggers of his addiction had paid off, at least in the performance sense. He still occasionally missed the liberating numbness that came with a swift swig of whiskey, but he knew it couldn’t compare to the sublime happiness he’d found – or, rather, managed to rekindle – with his serene and loving lovebird.

She sighed next to his ear, her breath warm and wet, and kissed the part of his cheek that used to be a prime strike zone but of late had only risked injury from his shaving razor or her lipstick when they decided to step out for a night in the city.

He rose up enough to nuzzle the tip of her nose and kissed her lips three times, between the second and third murmuring, “I love you.”

He felt her smile as she repeated those favored words. Then she kissed him one more time and said, “That was something.”

He rolled to her side to give his hip a break, covering his wince with a quip. “Well, I’ve got to make sure you’ve got something to remember me by, in case I don’t make it back.”

Dawn shifted close to him with a click of her tongue. “It’s a perfectly routine surgery.”

“Sure, you’d say that. You’re not the one who won’t be able to have sex for eight to twelve weeks.”

“We won’t be able to have sex like this,” she allowed, before swinging her voice for another reproach. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do anything. You heard Dr. Alawi: We’ll just need to switch things up a bit.”

Despite himself, Hank pulled an embarrassed grin as he recalled the doctor’s precise description of recommended sexual positions that would – in some cases literally – take the pressure off of Hank’s soon-to-be-reconstructed hip labrum. “More reverse cowgirl?”

Dawn matched him with a thirsty hum and a devastatingly sexy smile. “Who knows? It might be good for conception, too.”

A tension completely unrelated to his upcoming surgery twisted around Hank’s insides. It must have had an effect on his face because Dawn came back with a quick afterthought:

“I was just thinking we could try. We’ve been out of circulation for over a year,” she said, using their preferred phrase for their withdrawal from the cape-and-tights life because retirement made them sound so damned old. “And we’re in a good place, now. Or don’t you think so?”

“No. I mean, yeah.” Hank fumbled his way through a dumb nod. “Sure! Whatever you want, babe.”

She said his name in the same softly frustrated way that his brother used to use when Don had needed to break through Hank’s hard head. “A baby is something we both have to want. You can’t do it just for me. I thought you said you wanted this, too?”

“I do!” He sucked his lips against his teeth a moment. “I just want to be able to take care of you. You know? I’m not Hawk anymore. Hell, I’m not even going to be able to run a lap after today!”

“You won’t be able to run laps for a few weeks.” She fixed him with an amused look. “You do know that a baby takes nine months, right? And that they don’t pop out sprinting?”

He wanted to dismiss her jesting just to move past the tension, but the self-honesty that had come with therapy won out. He dropped his chin into his chest, muttering, “What if we have a kid and it’s like me?”

Dawn blinked, unruffled. “First of all,” she said with fussy enunciation, “we’d have a little girl or a little boy, not an it.” She softened and stroked the corner of his mouth, smiling anew. “And a baby with your eyes and this smile would melt all kinds of hearts.”

Hank sighed. “You know what I mean. I’ve fucked things up more times than I can count. I don’t want to do that to a kid. Or to you.” Something rough scratched at the inside of his throat, turning his voice hoarse and making it crack. “Not again.”

True to her strength, Dawn didn’t deny or shy away from his admission. “Your demons will always be with you.” She cupped his face, her palm cool and comforting over the hard bone of his cheek. “But you’re not under their thumb anymore! And if you ever feel yourself slipping, you know I’m always here.”

He snickered with self-deprecation. “My hero.”

“Partner,” she corrected. Her hand moved in another comforting stroke of his skin, and she told him, “It’s OK to be scared. I get scared sometimes, too. But when we’re together, I know we can handle-”

“-Handle anything,” he finished with her, like the close to a daily prayer.

She nodded, her eyes wide and bright and full of hope. “You’re stronger than you think.” Her mouth twitched with a tickled smile. “We didn’t call you Hank the Tank for nothing.”

Hank snorted out a half-laugh. Donna had given him that nickname, back when they’d been little more than a gang of cocky brats looking for trouble. It had become a source of pride to bear that moniker still, more than even Hawk.

He released a relinquishing breath. “I’m being a paranoid asshole again, aren’t I?”

She pinched her thumb and finger nearly together and squinted through the space. “Little bit.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she began, when he cut her off with another desperate shake.

“No! Dawn, don’t.” He took her face in his hands the same way she’d done for him and locked eyes with her. “Don’t ever be sorry for wanting what you want.” He pinched his lips together for a quick and cautious grimace. “Just let me get through this first, huh? Then, we can – I don’t know – put aside some savings, or at least come up with a list of names we both like. OK?”

Her eyes sparkled in the early morning light and she grinned; the thought popped into his head that a baby with her traits would be a lot more beautiful than one with his.

“Sounds like a solid plan.” Her smile turned feisty once more. “In the meantime, we can practice.”

“Practice what?”

She pushed him flat to his back and climbed on top of him as if mounting a horse, then rose up on her own undamaged hips, her skin almost glowing and her hair cascading around her shoulders like ribbons of white light. “Riding cowgirl,” she said around a sultry grin.

Hank blew a lusty snort through his nostrils. “Yeehaw,” he said, and Dawn let out a light and pretty laugh, like birdsong carried on the wind, before swooping down for a kiss that quashed his concerns, at least until they’d have to face the day.