Ars vivendi
JD nuzzled at the warm skin under his lips, and smiled as the arms wrapped around him tightened.
"You awake, Ez?" he whispered. A glance at the clock told him it was five in the morning; they had managed a whole four hours sleep. He considered letting the man sleep -- they really ought to both be exhausted. He grinned, and dismissed the thought. No point letting perfectly good waking time go to waste. He humped gently against Ezra's somnolent body, then slipped his hand between them to cradle Ezra's soft shaft. He petted it, moving his fingers in tiny strokes, swirls and circles, carefully exploring the folds and creases in the soft skin. He buried his pleased grin in Ezra's neck as the creases slowly disappeared under his touch, the compact shaft stretching and swelling until it no longer nestled in his palm, but rubbed across it, Ezra's hips moving minutely at first, and then gradually faster, and with more definite intent, until he was not surprised to have a hand grip his wrist and hold him still.
"Mornin', Ez," he smiled happily.
"Oh God," Ezra replied, and JD laughed silently. "What time is it?"
"Not time to get up," JD evaded, and Ezra groaned.
"I have a big case coming to a head this morning. Let me get--" he glanced at he clock, "oh God, let me get my last hour's sleep in?"
"But you're awake now," JD pointed out indisputably, and twisted his hand on Ezra's penis.
Ezra let out a gulped gasp. "D-don't!" But green eyes were opening, and regarding him sleepily, and JD pressed his mouth to Ezra's, confident of his welcome. He started moving his hand again as the kiss took them both over, Ezra's hand relaxing, then sliding down to play with JD's own shaft. Abruptly Ezra took control, rolling JD onto his back and pressing him down firmly. JD spread his legs and moaned, lifting his hips wantonly.
"Shh," Ezra whispered between kisses, "Let me--"
JD's breath came in little hitching sobs, as Ezra worked him with a firm, knowing hand. They'd learned a hell of a lot about each other last night. JD arched his back as Ezra bit at the very edge of his ear lobe, then licked behind it.
"Ezra!" Ezra seized another kiss, but pulled away just as JD started to think that he might actually come just from that, and bit again, this time nibbling his way down a line running from his scalp to the base of his shoulder, where he sucked, hard.
"Ez!" And he did come.
He settled slowly back out of the blur of sensation, and sighed at the feel of Ezra's cock rubbing along his perineum, stroking over his hole, the flared glans nudging momentarily on each stroke past. He wriggled, trying to get the head to go inside, but Ezra gripped his hips firmly, and nipped at his throat.
"Stop that," he ordered indulgently, and held still until JD stopped moving under him. "Better."
JD sighed, and instead closed his thighs around the long, hot shaft. His breath caught as Ezra thrust against him, pushing and pulling at his spent cock and balls, dragging painfully over hair and skin alike, causing a unsatisfied twitch deep inside. "Ez, please?" he begged, and Ezra just laughed.
"Patience," Ezra murmured, and JD growled, but relaxed his shoulders into the pillows.
His hands stroked mindlessly up and down Ezra's back, fingers fascinated by the curve of the rib cage, the knots that marked each vertebra. He cupped Ezra's ass cheeks then curled over and in so he could slide his hands further down, abdominal muscles protesting, until he could slide his two index fingers into Ezra's waiting little hole, soft and slippery from last night.
The tension snapped out of Ezra's body, and he arched his hips into JD, who took his turn at holding his partner still, the heel of each hand pushing down, fingers pushing in and controlling Ezra's body from just those points. "Let me move," Ezra growled, his voice almost unrecognizable as his anus grasped at JD's fingers. He rocked, twisted, and his shaft rode roughly over JD's sensitive balls. JD couldn't believe the whining sound coming from his throat, and stopped himself. "Can you -- like this?" He pushed his fingers deeper, and grimaced as his shoulders pulled painfully. "Here." Ezra slid his arms high under JD's back, and the support was more than enough to ease the strain. "Good?" "Good," JD agreed, and Ezra started moving between JD's thighs, JD following the rhythm with his fingers, driving them in as far as flesh and bone would allow, dragging them out, stretching the pliable muscle as wide as it would go. He had plans for that hole.
Ezra groaned at one particularly deep thrust, twisting down into his prostate, then cried out when JD found the angle again and repeated it, over and over. Ezra's eyes were closed, his whole body moving in syncopation to JD's thrusts, and JD leaned up, brushing his lips over Ezra's gasping mouth. Ezra dropped his head forwards and kissed him back, holding on to him, stroking and squeezing as he writhed, and gulped out fragments of words, until he wailed and collapsed on him, wetting the space between JD's legs with his come.
JD smiled, playing gently with Ezra's hole as the spasms slowly dwindled. He turned them onto their sides, cuddling Ezra close, and listened to his breathing slowing. The sound was hypnotic, and he let his eyes close. A small snore told him that Ez had tumbled straight back into sleep, and he laughed under his breath. Damn. But he hadn't managed more than a twitch of interest this time, so maybe it was for the best. He eased his fingers out and stretched his arms with a sigh. A last glance at the clock told him he still had forty-five minutes before the alarm started, and let sleep claim him too.
---------------
"This is ridiculous," Ezra muttered darkly, riveted by the sight in the mirror. He resumed shaving as JD's naked butt disappeared from sight inside the shower and regretted it as the straight edge nicked him. "Ow!"
Blood gathered for a second and then dripped. Another drop hit his chest and left a bloody trail as it slowly slid down his wet skin. "Oh, shit." He ripped off a bit of tissue and dabbed at the cut. The tissue stuck and he gritted his teeth, ignoring it while he finished shaving, grimacing as the blood continued to run freely down his neck. He was dabbing at it as JD emerged from the shower.
"Oh, that's attractive," John laughed as he reached around him to his toothbrush, dripping water everywhere.
"You're just jealous," Ezra accused with a disdainful sniff. He used the towel to wipe up the blood, and only managed to smear it around. At this rate he was going to need another shower. He damped a corner and tried again, then found some cream and dabbed it on, "After all, at least I have something worth shaving." John pushed his cold, wet hands under the towel knotted at Ezra's waist and hefted Ezra's penis.
"Mmmm. Jealous, riiiight," he murmured around the dry toothbrush, and dodged away.
"You weren't complaining last night," he pointed out with a smirk. "That normally works better with the Colgate?"
"Sure wasn't," he said cheerfully, and tugged at Ezra until they were facing. He snickered as JD removed the toothbrush, still sans toothpaste and kissed him. "I fuckin' love this." he said into Ezra's mouth, and Ezra hugged him tightly. "I fuckin' love you." He pulled back a little and looked uncertainly at Ezra, who felt as though John had somehow found the means to turn his brain into warm wax.
He shook his head and smiled. "I know."
JD stared for a moment, then collapsed against his shoulder, laughing helplessly.
"What?" Ezra demanded, "What did I say?"
It took laughing-boy several attempts to get a coherent sentence out. "You don't even know -- of course you don't know. It's even better!"
"What?!" He shook JD, slightly annoyed.
"You just turned me into Princess Leia."
Ezra blinked in bewilderment. "From Star Trek?"
"Wars! Star Wars! God, I can't believe I fell for someone who doesn't know the difference between Star Trek and Star Wars," JD laughed.
"Well, I can't believe I fell for someone who can't tell the difference between a 98 and a 95 Pinot Grigio," he snapped, a little hurt.
JD stopped, and his dark eyebrows drew together worriedly. "You're not pissed at me, are you? I mean, I didn't mean to laugh but I--" he hesitated. "I'd try to explain but I think it's going to lose something in the translation."
Ezra shrugged it away, but the sting rankled -- was it his fault if he had chosen to focus his life on slightly more important things than geek culture? "It's fine, John," he said easily, and smiled. "I should go dress. I'll let you get to the basin."
He tried to pull himself out of JD's embrace and was surprised when the man's arms tightened on him.
"Ez, if you're mad at me, just say, okay? I don't want to go around making you mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you, and we are going to be late. At least, I am going to be late. I seem to remember from my student days that being late was something of an art form," he smiled, and JD quirked a smile back.
"I'm not gonna touch that one," he said. "Ez, I wasn't, you know, taking the piss or anything, it's just you completed a quote from a movie I watched a lot as a kid, and it struck me as funny, okay?"
Ezra lifted an eyebrow, and said once more, "I know?"
"Yeah." He hugged him tightly and let him go. "Man, I always wanted to be able to say that to someone. Figures I'd end up as Leia." He chuckled again, and Ezra smiled tentatively. If there was a joke, perhaps it wasn't on him. "I am so gonna sit you down and make you watch them one of these days."
"How -- delightful," Ezra had no qualms at all about letting his horror at the prospect shine through. Sure enough JD laughed.
"And then I'll let you do whatever you want to educate me on your culture stuff, okay? I'll even let you take me to see a ballet if you really want. Just one time, though," he added hastily.
Ezra grinned. "A handsome offer. Done." After all, how long could one movie take?
"Done!" JD grinned hugely.
A doubt shook him. "Ah, Star Wars is just the one movie, isn't it?"
JD suddenly became very absorbed in finally putting paste on his toothbrush. For someone who prided himself on bed to front door in under ten minutes he was sure taking his time.
"John?"
JD smiled happily at Ezra's reflection in the mirror, scrubbing in tiny, meticulously careful circles.
"JD?!"
He pointed with his other hand at his foaming mouth and shrugged, as if to say, what can I do?
"Brat," Ezra sighed, and went to get dressed.
JD smiled to himself. He was going to have to watch that. He was used to people who got his fannish jokes, or at least, just rolled their eyes and let them slide. It was funny though. Somehow he'd always pictured himself as Han Solo in that particular scenario, and to end up as Leia... His grin faded as he wondered why Ezra didn't like it. He'd have to ask him some time, and then the thought slipped away as he finished getting ready to leave for the day. He finished up in the bathroom and dropped the towel on the floor, then wandered through Ezra's bedroom to get his own clothes from the room across the hall. Ezra was still carefully knotting his tie, jacket and pants laid out on the bed, and JD shook his head.
Shorts, jeans, long-sleeved tee, short sleeved t-shirt over it. Done. He wondered if it would ever take him as long to get dressed as it did Ezra. His sense of smug superiority was swiftly punctured when he couldn't find a single complete pair of socks for nearly ten minutes. The only pair left intact seemed to be the white gym socks, which set off a whole new train of thought -- if he wanted to keep up with Ezra he was going to have to keep in shape. He paused for a moment and grinned at the thought of keeping up with Ezra -- and then took another five minutes looking for his stuff for working out. Then ran down the stairs, dived into the study to pick up his laptop, and scooped his jacket from the back of the chair where Ezra must have hung it up, because he was pretty sure he hadn't.
"Ez?" he called, half expecting him still to be upstairs, primping.
"In here." JD followed his voice to the living room where Ezra was picking up and shaking out his clothes. "Nothing to be done except send it to be cleaned and hope for the best," he heard as he walked in.
"Those your pants?" JD asked of the rumpled grey trousers.
"Yes. They should be fine. Which is more than I can say of your shirt," he added, nodding to the article of clothing scattered across no less than three separate pieces of furniture. "I'd apologize except--"
They looked at each other and JD wondered if the grin stretching his face was as goofy as the one on Ezra's. "You can rip my shirt off anytime you like," he offered generously. "And look." He picked up the previous day's much abused, and now dubiously stained jeans, "Now they match!"
Ezra stared at him in disbelief for a moment, and then dropped his face in his hand. "A heathen. Dear God, I have taken up with a complete philistine." But his voice was suspiciously unsteady, and he could see the half smile without even trying.
Another ten minutes and they were heading their separate ways. JD smiled happily to himself as he headed into Denver. That last kiss as they left the house... He swallowed, his grin growing wider as shivers raced over him. Wow. Just. Wow.
Everything was just perfect.
-----------------------------------
"Good morning, gentlemen!" Ezra said cheerfully as he walked in, and was promptly surrounded.
Vin seized the bag dangling from his hand without ceremony and ripped it open. "Mmmm, caramel," he grinned, and took both slices of chocolate-caramel shortbread, retreating rapidly with his prize.
"Hey!" Buck grumbled, and then spotted a blueberry donut. "Mmm." He took a huge bite, and asked, "Fwat bo' visson?"
Ezra smiled enigmatically and put the coffees down carefully. He took his own double espresso from the tray and stepped back hastily, before the vultures tried to take a hand along with the caffeine and sugar. "Oh, no reason, Mr. Wilmington." He sipped at the strong coffee, keeping his face as bland and uninformative as he knew how. They certainly didn't need to know anything about the source of his good mood. Not after the onslaught of so called humor that had followed the last time.
Buck looked thoughtfully at him, and the expression in those dark blue eyes reminded him that although Agent Wilmington might act the clown, there was nothing wrong with his brains when he chose to use them.
"Huh. Y'have a nice time a'th'opera?" Buck didn't look at him as he asked, but examined the scribbles on the lidded cups then picked out one marked, a little mysteriously, MC. "Mmmm. Macchiato."
"The ballet," Ezra corrected, "and no, as it transpired we found better things to do." He could feel a smile tugging at his cheeks, and tried very hard to get rid of it.
Buck looked at him and smirked. "The sight of all those men in tights give you a need for some urgent lovin'?"
Ezra raised his eyebrows. "We did not, although I fail to see how this is of any relevance whatsoever to my decision to bring in coffee in order to ensure that you people are fully ready for the bust this morning, even make it to the ballet."
Vin stared at him. "How many sentences did you get inside that one poor li'l sentence?"
"Cruelty to dumb subordinate phrases, I'd say," Josiah agreed cheerfully, and took the bran muffin lingering lonely and ignored on the remains of the bag. Ezra looked around and shook his head, amused. Chris was peeling off pieces of chocolate muffin and nibbling at them cautiously in the vain hope of not getting crumbs on his suit before his meeting. Nathan was contentedly munching on the honey and raspberry granola bar that he’d included for him, and his own solitary almond macaroon had been thoughtfully placed in the drinks tray.
"Boys," Chris growled, and they scattered, not before Buck patted Ezra on the back.
"Glad you're happy, Ez," he said very quietly, and Ezra blinked, completely thrown. Wilmington's eyes held nothing but sincerity and he found it possible to nod.
"Very much so, Buck," he replied, just as quietly.
"Good. Just, well, good." And Buck walked away to his desk, leaving Ezra pleased, if puzzled. He gathered up his papers and his espresso, and made his way to the large conference table at the far end of the office. He carefully arranged his files as he waited for the others to gather, trying to figure out what Buck's angle was.
"Reckon someone might've had a word or two with him," Vin dropped in to the seat next to him, and slid a sidelong glance at him. "If you was wonderin'."
"Thank you."
"Nah, don't thank me." Vin shook his head and his eyes lingered on Chris Larabee, just emerging from his private office at the end of the room. "Think it'd take a mite more'n me to change Buck's mind once he's made it up."
"Chris?" Ezra said with considerable disbelief. Chris Larabee had intervened on his behalf with Buck?
"What? No!" Vin shook his head as he realized the misunderstanding. "I reckon Josiah had something to say to him. Might be he threatened to forget to turn that other cheek he talks about."
Ezra nodded, "I'll thank him later." He looked narrowly at Chris, wondering what it was about his relationship with John that had made Vin turn his gaze towards their boss when the subject came up. Vin himself looked uncomfortable, and wasn't that interesting too? Maybe Chris and Vin weren't quite as open minded as they had first seemed to be. It bore watching.
The rest of the team settled themselves around the table, and Chris looked at each, gathering their attention before speaking.
"Well, y'all know where I'm going to be today," he started brusquely, and the rest of them grinned at the annoyance in his voice. "More fuckin' budget cuts. Like we aren't pared to the bone already." Nothing but the need to put on a good front for the higher-ups and the bean counters would persuade Chris to don a suit. He did, Ezra admitted privately, look remarkably good in the deep charcoal suit, with a soft blue shirt, and a dark blue tie.
"Yup," Buck said. "Better you than me," he added heartlessly and Ezra chuckled with the rest.
"Your time will come, Buck," Chris warned, and moved on. "In fact, it's coming now. How's that meet shaping up, Agent?"
"Pretty good," Buck said easily, without looking at his notes. "Josiah and Psych have agreed that Ezra's assessment of the operation Lasater's got going is fundamentally sound." He glanced at Ezra, "'Course, you're the one going in -- you happy with the plan?" He looked at the others as well, "Any problems, now's the time to raise them."
"I'm fine," Vin said. "Got my spot marked out, as long as me'n' Nathan're in place before anyone else shows up, we're good."
"Okay then -- Josiah, I'm going to sit surveillance with you, so we need to get that van up as close as we can without upsetting the perps." Buck began. Chris was shaking his head. "What's wrong with that?" Buck asked. "We went over this at the last meeting and you--"
"No, no, the plan's sound, but I just got word this morning. Sorry, Buck, guys. Vin's gonna have to sit this one out." He wouldn't look at Tanner, and Ezra wondered what exactly was going on. Larabee only usually avoided eye contact when attempting to obfuscate. Whatever Tanner was wanted for officially, it was a good bet that it bore little resemblance to reality.
"What?!" Vin's protest was drowned by Buck's voice.
"You're fuckin' kiddin' me!"
"Chris, the whole plan of attack is predicated on having two snipers in position." Josiah said hastily, apparently trying to ease past Buck's outrage before Chris lost his temper too, "How are we going to--"
"I know, I know. But HR are on my back about Vin's certification status, and today's pretty much the last day before they put their foot down," he kept talking over their protests that surely tomorrow would be adequate, "No, if he waits to tomorrow it lapses, and we have to wait a month for the whole thing to go through as a new application."
"This is fuckin' bullshit, Chris," Vin's voice rose over the others, and abruptly the room was quiet.
"Vin, drop it. This is final." The two men glared at each other, and Ezra had the curious feeling that some sort of message, perhaps concerning him, was being exchanged as Vin's eyes dropped, flickering for a second in his direction. "We can discuss it later, if you want. Now, I've got Agent Hardie from Team Nine in to cover the gap left -- Buck?"
Buck sighed. "Guess I need to go bring her up to speed." He looked mournfully at Chris. "It had to be Hardie, didn't it?"
Chris shook his head innocently, "I don't know what you mean," he replied. Just because Almetta Hardie had shot down Buck's every attempt to 'get to know her', culminating in the moment when she had resorted to bringing a girlfriend to an office event, and telling anyone that would listen that Claire was her girlfriend, and please, someone, anyone, please just tell Buck that she had turned gay or something... Ezra stifled a grin, and caught Nathan's eyes as he rubbed a hand over his mouth to conceal his expression. It was fatal, as both sets of shoulders started quivering with suppressed sniggers that rapidly spread to Josiah and Vin too.
Buck glowered at Chris, and then shared it with the rest of the men. "I know where you live, Larabee," he grumbled. "As for the rest of ya..." He stood, "I'll be back in a minute."
-----------------------------
"...And shall we say, in the interests of amity, I sweeten the deal with a small gift of my own?"
Buck frowned at the tiny video relay, watching Ezra, or rather at this precise moment in time, Ezekiel McKenzie, smiling benignly at Skyane Lasater, assuring him that not only would he buy his illegal alcohol, he was interested in more, and would Mr. Lasater care for a bottle of something like bonnavarry twenty year reserve. Mr. Lasater sounded extremely appreciative.
"Is that in the script?" he asked no one in particular. "That's not in the script, Ez. We don't need to make friends with the guy, we just gotta bust his ass."
Josiah was sitting next to him, shaking his head. "Ezra, Ezra, what are you doing?" he murmured. "Keep to the script. Leave the improvisation to the experts--"
"Jackson here," Nathan's voice came through, harsh with bewilderment. "What's happening, Buck? How the hell am we supposed to go in when he won't give the signal word?"
"I don't know!" He keyed a mic. "Ez," he hissed, "what the hell are you doing? Is there a problem? Lift your right hand if there's a problem and you want us to come in." He turned back to the screen, earphone pressed with one hand to his head, as though the extra pressure could bring the desired words.
"Hardie to Wilmington, is there a problem, sir?"
Buck rolled his eyes at the relentlessly polite edge to Almetta's voice. "If all y'all would just shut up a minute, I'm tryin' to find out."
The radio fell quiet. "Ezra, I repeat, lift your right hand if you want an assist."
Ezra and Lasater simply kept on talking.
"Come on, Ezra, raise your hand, come on! What are you doing?" Josiah hunched forwards, watching anxiously. "What's going on in that head of yours? Come on, give us a clue."
"Come on, Standish, you dumb fuck, throw us a bone here!" Buck growled. "What the hell does he think he's doing?"
The man on the tiny screen reached out to shake hands with Lasater. Buck threw up his hands in despair. Where was the frigging sign?
"Was that our signal?" Nathan asked over the radio, and Buck shook his head, his face a picture of frustration.
"I don't know! He hasn't used any of the keywords!" He toggled the mic again. "Ez! Is the bust a go or not?"
"Oh, I should say not at all, Mr. Lasater," Ezra appeared to be speaking to Lasater, but Josiah caught a sly look up at the camera that Wilmington had planted hours before the meet.
"That's for us, Buck," he said, and leaned back, the light chair creaking under the change in position.
"Are we going in or what?" Nathan asked with quiet urgency. "They're breaking up, the meeting's over! What the hell is going on?"
"I don't know, but there's going to be hell to pay when Chris finds out," Buck muttered. "Shit." He glanced at Josiah, who shrugged. "Shit. This was meant to be a fucking milk run."
"Your call, Buck," he said helpfully.
"Mine, huh?" He glared at the television screen for a long moment as the various people inside the building began packing up, and swore again. "Fuck it." He keyed his microphone to broadcast to all users. "All points, abort. Do not break cover. Repeat, do not break cover." He flipped his microphone off and added through gritted teeth. "I am going to kill him."
"Perhaps he has a plan."
"If he had a plan he should have let me know about it!" Buck said furiously. "When I get my hands on that idiot..."
-------------------------------------------
Well, it didn't take long for today to go completely to hell, Ezra thought resignedly. I really should have laid myself odds on not keeping that mood for more than three hours. He thought about it. No, he wouldn't have taken any odds that he could have offered. Never bet against the house, he reminded himself ruefully, and tuned back in just in time for the end of Buck's tirade.
"--what the hell you were thinking!" Buck yelled, slamming his hands down on the table and looming over Standish. "Were you thinking at all?"
Chris said sharply, "Sit down, Buck!" and waited, his lips a thin line, until the bigger man settled reluctantly, his eyes never moving from Ezra's face, not a hint of a smile on his usually cheerful face. "Report, Standish." His stony gaze added, 'this had better be good.'
Ezra's eyes flicked around the room, and found no allies. Only Vin was missing, apparently still at his re-certification despite the late hour. All the rest of team were there, watching him with various degrees of confusion. He was vaguely grateful that Agent Hardie had been thanked and dismissed -- they might be planning on tearing him into tiny little pieces, but they were going to do it in private.
"I am quite willing to write this up and discuss it when tempers are a little less frayed," he began.
"Chicken," Nathan muttered, and at Chris's irritated glance added a perfunctory, "Sorry."
"But as you wish." He paused, trying to bring his thoughts into some semblance of order. "Chris, I believe I said yesterday that I felt there were some outstanding issues relating to the Lasater case." He looked at Larabee, who simply stared back, no help there.
"It was while we were discussing the delivery process of the illegal alcohol that Mr. Lasater's words deviated substantially from the scenario we had envisaged."
"Deviated?" Buck and Chris both said, and Chris sat back, a glance between them more than sufficient to agree to leave the debrief to Wilmington.
"How do you mean, 'deviated'?" Buck asked, leaning forward intently.
"You will recall that we thought that he had taken advantage of a random shipment." Ezra turned to talk directly to him; Chris had given him the floor, it was up to Ezra to convince the rest of them. He concentrated on breathing steadily, easily. He had to project calm, confidence. Stay cool.
Josiah nodded slowly, "That was how Psych saw the perp, and frankly, so did I. If not random, then not regular, and certainly not major. More an add on to a legitimate shipment. You saw something different?"
Ezra nodded, turning to face him. "Yes, indeed. I initially wondered why a man whose business was organized so thoroughly would use an ad hoc supply system such as the profile suggested."
Josiah regarded him without a hint of the thoughts behind his pale blue eyes. Ezra waited a moment, and went on.
"I didn't say anything because, well, I was confident that Josiah's psychological profile was superior to my own doubts, especially as I had nothing beyond gut instinct."
Josiah shook his head. "That's all profiling is sometimes, Ezra. Gut instinct and a lot of education."
Ezra met Josiah's eyes with a certain feeling of surprise. He hadn't expected Josiah to take this so easily. "I'm sure it is far more than that, Mr. Sanchez," he said politely, and steepled his fingers for a moment, staring at them, and then sighed. "I would have followed through the bust with the scheduled take down, except, as we were discussing the liquor supply, Mr. Lasater mentioned that if I required such a quantity on a regular basis that he could arrange it."
"Regular?" Nathan asked, a look of sharp interest on his face. "Well, now."
Ezra visibly relaxed his shoulders and sat back in his chair at the dawning comprehension on his colleagues' faces.
Larabee cocked his head, looking for clarification. "I thought he was a penny-ante merchant that we just wanted to clear discrepancies on?"
"Exactly," Ezra said. He looked at Buck, "I apologize, Mr. Wilmington--"
"Forget it, Ez." Buck waved a dismissive hand at Ezra's apology. "I just wish you'd'a had a way to tell us, but I get why you didn't." He stopped as though done, and then added, "I just wanted to know what was going on, you know? You changing the game plan on me halfway through -- it just threw me, all of us, a little."
"I appreciate that." Ezra said amiably, and then his face hardened. "But next time you want to know what I'm doing, trust me that I am not just 'going off on one'." His eyes stayed squarely on Buck's, which fell. Ezra didn't show a hint of his regret that some of what he was saying was if not exactly a lie, was only half the truth. Lasater had let the information slip -- but at the same time, Ezra had had his suspicions and could have shared them beforehand, instead of grandstanding during the intended bust.
"Yeah, I guess," he said weakly. He shook his head, "But if you had just mentioned that you had doubts about the profile--"
"I wasn't sure if they had any merit." He shrugged, trying to shuffle the accusation away, unsure whether he was lying or telling the truth. Maybe he had sabotaged himself. Maybe his plan for changing the game had been a ploy to deal with his own lack of confidence instead of the lack that he thought he saw in his colleagues. He frowned, thoughts churning in a vicious cycle.
"Dammit, Ez," Buck snapped, "You're the guy in there. It's your assessments that we base the damn profiles off in the first place. If you think there's something off and you don't tell us, what are we supposed to do? Be mind readers? I asked you this morning, I asked everyone if they had any last minute thoughts or questions! You should have raised that then, not keep it to yourself and change the game plan under our feet! What if you decide not to tell us something one day, and you're right, and you end up dead?"
Ezra blinked a little. Somewhere in there was a compliment on his ability to judge character, right along with a slam at his willingness to trust.
"You're just lucky that Lasater was a milk run. Next time you get a hunch, tell us before you go in, so if you end up playing it, we're not left swinging in the breeze."
"My apologies, Buck," Ezra said, and meant it. He smirked a little, "Next time I'll let everyone know that you're goin' to be swingin' in the breeze, so we can get footage of the occasion."
Buck shook his head and looked at Chris, who picked up smoothly.
"So. Mr. Lasater has connections?" Chris asked, leaning back in his chair, his eyes half shut. He sounded as if he didn't care one way or the other, and Ezra wanted to grin madly. The less interested Larabee sounded, half the time, the more focused he was on bringing down their opponents.
Of course, the other half, he really wasn't interested. But he'd stake good money that Larabee was interested.
"So I believe. The immediate question of course is who, and how?"
"And what else is being run into the country on this 'regular route' that he's found?" Josiah added, a small, hard smile in his eyes.
"Exactly, Mr. Sanchez."
Josiah shook his head regretfully. "I missed this completely."
"We all did," Chris soothed, and Josiah shook his head.
"Ezra didn't."
Ezra stared at Sanchez for a long moment, dumbfounded, before shaking his head. "No, I merely followed up what Mr. Wilmington would call a hunch. There was nothing I could put a finger on. Something not quite right in the psych report."
"What?" Chris asked tersely.
Ezra shrugged, and at Chris's irritated look added, "I -- as close as I can explain it, it was in the way Lasater structured things. That and my impressions of the man. I can't pin it closer than the level of organization. It just felt off."
"How? What was it? Ezra, if we can pin it down it's a new avenue to investigate," Nathan said.
Ezra tensed. "I know that! I went over the files again and again, trying to pin it down!"
Josiah intervened. "Why did the organization feel off?"
Ez looked around. He couldn't read Chris. The man's tells were nearly as well concealed as his own. Josiah was honestly interested; as ever fascinated by the prospect of finding out something he hadn't known before. Wilmington and Jackson were both looking doubtful; Buck a little disgruntled, still chafing at Ezra's unilateral change of plans. Jackson was simply watching him, waiting for him to speak.
"There was too much of it. I can't explain any better than that," he said, and waited.
Josiah frowned. "Too much--"
"How does he have too much organization?" Buck asked. "What doesn't fit? What's off key?"
"Is it the number of people?" Nathan asked, and shrugged when the others looked. "He has a hell of a lot of staff -- how's he paying for them all, and why."
"He's running a big show, Nathan," Josiah said patiently. "Even the legit operation makes sense in terms of manpower--"
"No, no, it's not the number of people, it's the manner of it. Too much organization." Ezra nodded as his own thoughts clarified just by trying to justify his 'feeling' to his colleagues. "Yes, yes. That's it. It doesn't fit. Mr. Lasater owns three liquor stores. He supplies legal alcoholic beverages to a further ten stores, mostly in Colorado, two out of state."
"We know all this," Buck said sharply. "The point?"
Ezra glared at him. "The point, Agent, is that his records are meticulous, and he has people at every level recording everything. Everything is regimented, organized. Almost pathologically so. He doesn't like unknowns. He talked to me because I was known to McPherson and Evans. So why allow his criminal activities to be disorganized? He micro-manages everything else and not this?"
"Huh," Nathan said thoughtfully. "When you put it that way, some sort of ad hoc, it comes in when it comes in kinda deal does seem sort of out of character."
"Okay, I can buy that," Buck nodded at Chris then looked back at Ezra. "And now we know they aren't irregular, there's got to be a lot more under the surface than we're seeing right now."
"He's right," Josiah said, chagrined. "We should have picked up on that."
"Not your fault -- I should have shared my thoughts on the subject," Ezra counter-apologized, and Chris held up his hand.
"We'll skip the recriminations and might-ofs, okay?"
Everyone nodded.
"Just having a regular route means we're going to have to look a whole lot deeper," Nathan pointed out, and Buck nodded.
"Nathan's right," Buck said slowly, and glanced at Chris. Chris gestured for him to carry on, and he turned his gaze on Ezra seriously, and said, "So, you okay with going in deeper?"
Ezra felt his heart stop for an instant. It was the logical consequence. He felt as though his lips were stiff as he spoke, "Yes, that is the obvious next step." He couldn't think of anything to say. All he could think was, not today. Please, not today. "When?" He cleared his throat, "I mean, McKenzie is a pretty low level cover."
"We didn't expect it to have to survive past today," Josiah said with a certain amount of annoyance, then grimaced in apology. "I know, I know. You did the right thing."
"Next time something feels off, Standish," Chris said, a sharp edge to his voice, "tell us." Ezra steeled himself for the reprimand he was expecting, and nearly let his jaw drop with surprise when Chris added, "You've got good instincts. And god knows you've got a mouth on you. Next time, use 'em."
It wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but on the other hand, he hadn't expected anything. He couldn't stop a small smile forming. "Yes, sir."
"Buck, I'm leaving this to you." Chris sat back and then stood. "Good work, guys."
As the door closed behind him, Buck grinned and rubbed his hands. "Okay, so, what've we got?"
Ezra's mind was still stuck on the 'going in deeper'. "You want me to make the cover complete?"
Buck nodded. "Yeah, we'd better. I'll see what we can round up in the way of places to live for you. Josiah--" he paused and started again. "Ezra, you and Josiah want to build a background for McKenzie? Nathan, can you liaise between them and IT, see about getting the details inserted once you're all happy with them."
"No problem." Nathan said cheerfully. He grinned a little, "I'll go talk to Rain Brett, see what she thinks about getting the cover in fast."
Ezra shook his head in mock sorrow, "Mr. Jackson, surely you aren't proposin' to talk to your girlfriend on office time?"
"She's not my girlfriend," Nathan said quickly, and then smiled widely, "But I sure wouldn't mind a chance for a little one on one time, if you know what I mean."
Buck chuckled, "Hoo-wee, it's catching, Josiah, it's catching."
"Watch yourself, Buck," Josiah said mildly, "As I recall you're the one who dates the most out of our happy band of brothers."
"I date but I ain't been caught and I ain't planning on getting caught," Buck said smugly, and let his eyes slide from Nathan to Ezra and back, "now, these boys..."
Ezra blinked. Well, it wasn't exactly as though Buck was wrong. He didn't really mean to smile; only really realized that was what he was doing when he found the others grinning back at him.
"Oh, he's got it bad," Buck said.
"The Lasater case, gentlemen?" Ezra said cheerfully.
-------------------------------------------
Vin scowled and pushed the stack of papers away from him, rubbing his hand across his face and then through his hair. Bad enough that he was supposed to be researching this kid. Worse that Larabee had lied to the team. Worst of all, he was starting to get a really bad feeling about the whole business.
JD supposedly inherited that money of his from a trust. But no one died in his family except his mother in the last twelve months. His mother had died without any assets to her name. If she'd left anything it fell into the personal mementoes category, not the half a million dollars one. The kid hadn't had any significant birthdays recently either, not turning twenty one or anything that might account for it. No other family that he could trace. There was no lawyer. No tax declaration. No probate.
Just a massive amount of debt from his mother's long illness. About three months ago it had to have become damn clear to the kid that he was going under.
He sighed as he looked at the array of papers. Four jobs. Stacking shelves at Wal-Mart evenings. Fixing cars weekends. Flipping burgers days. Cleaning windows in the early mornings. The kid had to have been running himself ragged just to keep up with his bills. He'd needed that half a million dollars.
He'd been trying and nothing he could do was good enough. A kid in that position might be tempted to do stuff that he'd never otherwise consider.
"Damn," Vin cursed softly and then shook his head. No getting soft. He remembered the way the kid smiled at Ezra, and the way Ezra had looked back. He liked Ezra. Trusted his instincts. If Ezra said someone was clean, he took him at his word. Chris was just too chicken to ask. From what he knew now, he was starting to feel a nagging sympathy for the kid too.
"Damn." He was getting soft.
Ezra was the best thing that could have happened to the kid. And he was starting to think that JD was pretty good for Ezra too. He'd known families go under from the weight of that sort of crushing debt. And one half grown kid...
Pretty much the only thing left for him had been filing for personal bankruptcy under the sheer weight of the debts that caring for his mother's last years had left him, along with the student loans, credit cards, and other, minor bills. And then suddenly in, late July he vanishes. Completely out of sight, all his payments made on time, in cash, but not a trace of where he went or how he got there. Then, after vanishing for nearly a month, he reappears with money. His debts are cleared, he's left with a nice chunk of change, and he's living with one Ezra P. Standish without so much as a word of explanation.
Come to think of it, Ezra never had said exactly why JD was living with him. Vin reddened, well, beyond the obvious.
Vin rubbed at his eyes. He hadn't been able to backtrack the money out of the trust. It had come to a dead end in the Cayman Islands, and no one there was remotely willing to offer him any information they didn't have to -- and they didn't have to give him jack shit. So he was left with just questions.
Where was the kid in August? Who put the money in a trust for the kid, and where did that money come from?
And how and why did he end up with Ezra?
Why did Ezra invite him into his home? What did the kid have on him?
He stretched his back and arms, then twisted, muscles pulling in his shoulders and neck. Too much sitting staring at papers. He slouched down and contemplated quitting for the day, maybe going to find a pickup game. The local kids usually had something going; sometimes it was even legal.
Right now, unless things had gone seriously wrong, Buck and the rest of the team were processing that Lasater guy through the system. He frowned. He'd've heard if anything had gone wrong by now. Chris and his damn paranoia. He ought to have been there, but no, Chris lied to the rest of them and dragged Vin off 'to re-qualify down at the range'.
A slow smile spread over his face. Well, hell. If Chris said it, then maybe he oughta do it. At least that way his story wouldn't get broke with just one question to the right person.
He could do with some exercise. Clear his head. Maybe practice with any new rifles that the range had in. He nodded decisively and stood. The papers were bundled up together and he locked them away in his desk drawer.
He wished that Larabee had just out and asked Ezra. He pulled on his jacket and hefted his keys, letting them jingle. Fine. If Larabee was too chicken shit to ask Ezra, he'd do it.
--------------------------------------------------
"Hey, Ez, wanna meet up?" John's bright voice resounded from the phone, and Ezra winced. He'd tried to convince the boy that he didn't need to shout, but it hadn't really taken.
"Meet up?"
"Yeah. I'm going to be late at the lab, I'm running a simulation on the mainframe and it's got about eight thousand iterations to go, so I figured, I might as well get some fun out of it."
Ezra repressed a smile. "If I pretend I understood that sentence will you promise not to repeat it."
"Oh, man, sorry, Ez. I'm running one of my programs, see, and--"
"John -- that part about you promising not to repeat it?"
John laughed. "Sorry. I can leave it running, I don't need to be here until it ends, but that's not going to be till late, and I thought maybe we could go see a movie or something?" Ezra frowned as he tried to place the tone of voice, and then he felt like finding the boy this minute and kissing him breathless. Of all things he sounded shy. "And I found this place that you might like to eat at, and after I messed up your plans for last night..."
Ezra shook his head and lowered his voice. "I don't regret one thing about last night."
There was silence from the other end of the phone, and Ezra asked, "John?"
"That's good, Ez," he sounded like he was smiling. "Can I -- would you-- I mean, if you're not busy or anything."
"I'm not busy." Good Lord, he thought with some bemusement, is he asking me out on a date? "When did you want to meet?"
"Can, can I pick you up?"
"From here?" He had a momentary vision of himself sitting on the back of JD's Kawasaki, in the cheap suit he had worn for the bust.
"If it's a problem--"
"That's fine. What time?"
"Ah. Actually, I'm kind of outside right now."
Ezra glanced at his wrist watch. "It's only four."
"But I'll bet lunch was a long time ago. Can't you leave early?" JD wheedled, "Please? It's a great day, and it's still pretty quiet on the roads."
"I can't just disappear because it's a sunny day."
"You can't?" JD said with mock surprise.
"Some people have work to do, you know."
"'Verk'? Vhat is this 'verk' thing you speak of?" he said with some kind of hokey European accent.
Ezra laughed under his breath. "I'm going to have to make up the time eventually."
"Yeah, but that's eventually," the kid urged. Ezra was already removing his shoulder holster and gun, and pulling on his jacket. If he was going to spend time in deep cover going after Lasater, then the least he could do was leave a little early today, and make his lover happy. A shiver ran through him, and he found himself half smiling again.
"I'll be down momentarily."
"Cool." John hung up, and Ezra pocketed the cell phone.
"JD?" Buck asked with a smirk. Ezra ignored him as he locked his gun into his desk drawer, retrieved his breath mints and shut down the computer.
"You see the man grinning like that over anyone else?" Nathan asked cheerfully. A little too cheerfully.
Ezra looked at him thoughtfully, and asked, "The delectable Miss Brett agreed to accompany you this evening?"
Nathan's grin could have lit Denver. "Sure did. Going to take her to this great little Thai restaurant, and maybe see a movie if she wants after."
"Just remember my tips, and you'll be fine," Buck told him with a look of smug superiority.
"Yeah, remember his tips and avoid doing them, and maybe you won't end up slapped by the end of the evening," Chris said dryly.
"I don't get slapped!" Buck said indignantly. "Ow!" Josiah smirked as he dodged neatly out of range of any retaliation.
"No?" was all the big man said, and Buck pouted.
"Ez's off on a date; Nate's finally got somewhere with little Rain Brett." He heaved a huge sigh. "I guess I'll go drown my sorrows somewhere."
"Let me guess," Ezra asked, pulling his coat over his jacket. "Would this 'somewhere' be a wine bar?"
"A Mexican wine bar?" Nathan chimed in.
"With a pretty Mexican owner?" Chris finished off.
Three sets of eyes met, and as one they looked back at Buck. "Nunca!"
"She's comin' round, I'm tellin' ya." Buck insisted over their laughter. "You heading out now, Ez?"
"John -- JD is waiting downstairs for me." He really couldn't help the way his voice seemed to soften.
"Now that is just too cute," Buck made a long arm and ruffled Ezra's hair.
"I am not cute."
Buck's eyebrows flicked up and down. "I know someone who don't agree with you. Seems to me he thought you were mighty cute last Friday night. And Saturday morning," he added airily, waggling his eyebrows again, a knowing grin on his face.
"I'm waiting on support services for the status of my proposed cover story," Ezra said coolly, trying very hard to ignore the rush of memory. "There is almost nothing I can do until it is in place, so if I may?"
Chris shook his head. "God forbid any of the rest of you pair off. Your brains aren't for shit like this, that's for damn sure." His glower slipped into a faint smile and he jerked his head towards the door. "Git, the pair of ya. Try to have your minds on the job tomorrow."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Larabee, sir!" Ezra said smartly, and Nathan bounced to his feet.
"For real?"
"I can change my mind..."
"I'm gone!" Jackson grabbed his jacket and whirled out, not even stopping to change his shoes.
Ezra was right behind him, and they smiled at each other as they waited by the elevators. Even at that distance they could quite clearly hear Larabee's "Buck, get back here!"
Or the whining, "Awww, Chris, old buddy, old pal..."
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Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fandoms listed herein. I am certainly making no money off of these creative fan tributes to a wonderful, fun show.