The Lighter Side:
Flirting With Danger

by Jo Ann

Disclaimer: Not mine and no money is being made.

Atlanta

Ezra opened the door to his apartment and smiled as he saw who was standing there with two large pizzas in his hand. "To what do I owe this unexpected surprise?"

"Can't a friend stop by to see another friend without a motive?" Josiah countered as he shouldered his way into the apartment.

After closing the door, Ezra slipped the lock into place, and followed his 'friend' to the dining table. "Never answer a question with another question. Josiah . . . it gives you away every time."

Josiah sighed and looked at him. "My transfer came through today," he quietly told him.

"That's great," Ezra said after a moment of silence. And even managed to smile. 'Oh, God,' he silently groaned, 'what am I going to do now?'

"So when do you leave?" Surely it wouldn't be for a few weeks. Or so Ezra hoped.

"Next week."

'Shit!' he swore mentally, but the smile never left his face. "Where are you going?"

"Denver," Josiah said. "There's an ATF team that's looking for a profiler and Grayson thought I'd be perfect for the job."

"Of course, he did. After all, you 'are' the best," Ezra assured him.

"Are you okay?"

"Most certainly. Why wouldn't I be?" Of course, I'm not okay! He silently screamed. I'm losing the one person I trust to watch my back. "I suppose I'll miss you ... a little."

"I'll only be a phone call away," Josiah told as he handed him plate of pizza.

"You might as well be on the moon, for all the good it'll do me," Ezra mumbled to himself, but Josiah heard him.

"I should have kept my mouth shut . . ."

"It was only a matter of time before Grayson found a way to separate us," he pointed out. After a bust went wrong and an agent was killed their supervisor, Brad Grayson, placed all the blame on Ezra. Josiah, being the overprotective father figure that he was took exception to the way the man had spoken to Ezra. The confrontation nearly came to blows, which proved to be Josiah's downfall and resulted in Grayson having him transferred. "Don't worry about it, Josiah. Maybe your new team will need an undercover agent?"

"I wouldn't hesitate to recommend you," Josiah assured him.

~*~*~*~

Six Months Later

Josiah sat his desk drawing stick people on his note pad. He loved his new job. Had quickly made friends with the team medic, Nathan Jackson. And was fast becoming friends with the rest of the team. Specially the young sharpshooter, Vin Tanner. For some odd reason, Vin reminded him of Ezra. They both shared the same devil may care attitude about life. And Chris Larabee, their team leader was a man that demanded respect and he had quickly earned Josiah's. He was holding judgement on the team's undercover agent. The man just didn't strike him as undercover material.

The whole team was great and they had already found a special spot in Josiah's life. But none of them could touch the spot reserved for Ezra. He missed the cocky young Southerner.

He jumped as a file was suddenly dropped onto his desk.

"I need a profile on this person ASAP," Chris told. "That is if you're not too busy," he quipped, looking at the stick family he'd drawn on the pad.

"No problem," Josiah told him, crumbling the piece of paper and throwing it away. Opening the file he scanned through the information there and received the shock of his life as he scanned one of the pictures inside it. There staring back at him was his former partner, Ezra P. Standish.

Oh, shit! How on earth do I handle this?

Team seven had been working on this case for a couple of months now. They were scheduled to meet with the buyer next week. However, if Ezra was working this case, then it had to be an FBI case. But then again, they hadn't been told to back off. So maybe, Ezra wasn't after the guns as they were.

Do I tell Chris? Josiah wondered. If I do then, he'll call to confirm it and we'll be pulled off the case.

There was also Ezra to consider. Without knowing what the Southerner's cover was, could Josiah risk informing anyone?

Reaching for the phone, Josiah decided to see if he find out anything. Two hours later Josiah still didn't know. He knew that without being able to speak with Ezra personally, he could not take the risk. No, he decided, it was best to just wait and see how things worked out.

~*~*~*~

I hate working undercover, Chris Larabee silently fumed. Damn, Morrison and his broken foot! He didn't know who told Rick Morrison he could work undercover, but if Chris ever found out there was gonna be hell to pay.

This was all Travis's fault! He insisted that Chris find an agent or he'd find one for him. So against his better judgment and his lack of choices he chose Morrison. And had regretted it ever since. Hell, the first time Chris raised his voice to him the man nearly wet his pants.

With a heartfelt sigh Chris banged his head against the window in frustration.

"Would you stop," Vin Tanner, the team sharpshooter, told him. "You're gonna break the window."

"I don't want to be here!" he growled. "I have more important things to do!"

"Like what?"

Chris scowled at his friend and gave Vin's shoulder a hard shove. "Stuff! All right."

"Oh, I see."

"Shut up, Tanner," he told him. "I don't like just sitting here! Doing nothing! Waiting! I hate waiting!"

Vin opened his mouth to say something only to close it as Chris continued.

"All these exchanges are basically the same . . ."

"Are you saying you're bored?" Vin asked.

"No," Chris shook his head. "I just feel like I'm stuck in a rut. I want something . . ."

"What you need is for something or someone to shake you up a bit," Vin told him. "Something to challenge you."

"Yes!" Chris slapped Vin on the leg. He was about to say more, but saw the buyer drive up.

"Here we go," Vin said as the two of them stepped from the car.

Chris shook Thomas Rainey's hand. He tensed as a short green-eyed man stepped up behind Rainey to whisper something in his ear, all the while looking at Chris. The shorter man stepped back and gave him a cocky grin. Chris blinked his eyes as he thought he saw a flash of gold. Then to his surprise the green-eyed man winked at him.

'Winked! The man winked at me! He's just trying to get a reaction,' Chris told himself. Just ignore him. 'Dammit, there he goes again! If he does that one more time . . .' His thoughts was interrupted as Rainey started talking.

"Well, gentlemen, it looks as if we might be able to help you," Thomas Rainey said several minutes later. "I'll have my associate here contact you so we can work out the details."

"That's fine," Chris replied holding out his hand. He watched as the green-eyed man shook Vin's hand before reaching for his. With a little more pressure than was necessary Chris gripped the other man's hand and gave it a firm shake.

The man didn't even flinch. If anything, that cocky grin on his handsome face grew. 'Whoa! Wait just a damned minute! Handsome? The man's a criminal. Criminals are not supposed to be handsome,' he silently reminded himself.

"I like a man with a firm grip," the man said with a wicked twinkle in his green eyes.

Chris jerked his hand back in surprise.

"Now, now don't be like that," the man all but purred, taking Chris's hand back. "I need your number so we can schedule that meeting."

Without a word Chris pulled his hand free and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket to write his name and number on.

The man stepped closer, reached for the paper, making sure their fingers touched, and seductively whispered, "I'll call you."

Standing this close Chris was able to inhale the man's enticing scent. He just did manage to keep his eyes from drifting closed, but couldn't stop himself from jumping as the man slapped him on the ass before turning and walking away. He stood there several seconds watching the man. The sound of a car door shutting broke him out of his trance-like state and he shot Vin a hard look that warned of a slow painful death if he said a word.

Vin held his hands up in mock surrender, but grinned as he got in the car.

"Me and my big mouth," he muttered as he started the car. "This wasn't the kind of challenge I was talking about."

"But it's just the kind you need."

"Shut up!"

Two days later Chris and his men sat at a conference table discussing possible scenarios for the upcoming meeting. Well, they started out discussing that, but were now talking about their favorite eye colors.

"What about you, Chris?" JD asked him. "What's your favorite eye color?"

"Green," he surprised himself by saying.

"Really?" Buck asked. "I thought it was blue. You know like . . . Sarah's."

Chris tensed and nodded his head then looked at his oldest friend and said, "No one's eyes will ever be as special as Sarah's." The blonde team leader shrugged and continued, "I like green eyes now."

"Deep green," Vin added under his breath then immediately yelped and seemed to be rubbing his leg.

"Josiah did you get that profile I wanted?" Chris asked the older man hoping to change the subject.

"Yes," Josiah said. "Thomas Rainey is the typical bored little rich kid that turned to a life of crime hoping to capture his parents' attention. It didn't work. He's gotten away with things all his life. He thinks he's untouchable," he told them. "As for the other men in the picture they're just hired help. Goons. All except for one. I can't find anything on him. Not even a name."

"Good work," Chris said with a nod of his head. "Rainey never gave us the other guy's name. But he has to come from somewhere." Just then his phone rang. Before the meeting began Chris had switched all his calls from his cell phone to the phone in the conference room. And without thinking switched it on speaker and snapped, "Yeah?"

"Have you missed me?"

Chris tensed, immediately sat up then cursed under his breath before answering, "Who is this?"

"Come now, you can't have forgotten me already," the other man replied with a silky laugh. "I certainly haven't forgotten you."

With everyone focused on the phone call no one saw the grin that split Josiah's face.

"Oh, you're Rainey's man," Chris said with a nod of his head, pleased that he sounded neutral. No, he hadn't forgotten one single thing about this man. He frowned as he thought he heard splashing.

"I am his associate. Not his man . . ."

"I never caught your name . . ."

"That's because I never threw it . . ."

"So?"

"What?"

"Throw it . . ."

"No," was the reply.

"Just tell me your name," Chris growled.

"No."

"No?" Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why not? You gotta have a name. What am I suppose to call you?"

"You may call me anything you choose. Sweetheart. Honey. Although I must say that I prefer to be called darlin' . . ."

"What?" he shook his head. "I'm not calling you any of those! But I know what I'd like to call you," he muttered.

"Now that's not very nice."

"I'm not a nice man . . ."

"I know. That's why I like you." They could all hear the smile in his voice.

Chris snapped the pencil he was holding in two and frowned as he thought he heard splashing. "What is that? What the hell are you doing?"

"Bathing," the voice said.

"Bathing?" Oh, this just keeps getting worse and worse!

"Haven't you ever conducted . . . business in the tub?"

"No!"

"Would you like to wash my back? Or better yet ... join me?"

"So when's the meeting?" Chris asked desperately wanting to change the subject. And trying not to picture this sexy-voiced-green-eyed man wet or naked.

"Keep your pants on cowboy . . ."

"Did you just call me a cowboy?" Chris asked in a hard voice.

"Yeap," the other man said in an exaggerated Texas accent.

Chris heard Vin snorted with laughter and shot him and the others his deadliest glare.

"I don't like it . . ."

"Well if the boots fits . . ."

"Don't do it again," he warned.

"Or what?" the man pushed. "You can't very well reach through the phone now can you . . . cowboy?"

"I may not be able to do anything about it now, but I'll get you later . . ."

"Promise?"

"Smart ass, are you?"

"So, you like my ass . . ."

"That's it! I'm hanging up." Chris was fast losing control of the conversation and didn't want to think about the man's ass.

"Party pooper!" the man pouted. "You and your men be at the 7^th street warehouse next Wednesday at 12:00 noon."

"That's kind of late, isn't it?"

"Oh, I never work before noon," the man informed him. "I'll see you then . . . cowboy," he said then hung up the phone.

Chris disconnected the phone and dropped his head on the table with a resounding thud bracing himself for what he knew was coming.

"Well, now," Buck said with a laugh. "Looks like you've got yourself a boyfriend," he went on to tease.

"I do not!" Chris snapped.

"Well, then you'd better tell him that," JD suggested with a grin.

"He's a suspect," Nathan reminded them.

"Thank you, Nathan."

"Of course, if you did . . . then it would be your word against his," the medic pointed out with a grin playing at his lips. "And they'd never believe him. So you might as well go for it!"

"He's a criminal!" Chris cried, as much for their benefit as his.

"Bad boys need love too," Vin told him, then took off for the door as Chris jumped to his feet.

~*~*~*~

Ezra Standish laughed as he hung up the phone. This assignment was turning out to be a lot of fun. He hadn't had this much fun in years! Chris Larabee was proving to be very entertaining. Very entertaining indeed.

~*~*~*~

By the time Wednesday rolled around Chris was wound tighter than an eight-day clock. On one hand he was more than ready to get this over with. On the other he found he wasn't quite ready to end the sparring match between himself and his green-eyed tormentor.

They stepped from the car as Rainey's car pulled up. Chris frowned as he saw no sign of Rainey. His tormentor was there along with five other men, but no Rainey.

"Where's Rainey?" he demanded.

"Mr. Rainey has been unexpectedly detained and will not be joining us today . . ."

"What?" Chris snapped. "I made a deal with Rainey not his . . . flunky."

"Flunky?" the green-eyed man snorted in distaste. "I am no one's flunky."

"I don't really give a shit . . ."

"Really, sir must you use such crude language? It's very unbecoming of a gentleman such as yourself."

Chris clinched his jaw and worked to rein in his temper.

"Now, then, Mr. Lawson, you can either deal with me or . . . turn tail and run."

Chris narrowed his eyes and clinched his fists at that comment and suddenly realized that he was going to enjoy arresting this over confident bastard. And maybe, just maybe this criminal wasn't as handsome as he first thought.

"Fine. Let's deal," he said. "This isn't everything I asked for!" Chris muttered after he examined the guns.

"It's all I was given . . ."

"When do I get the rest?"

"I'll have to speak with Mr. Rainey . . ."

Chris jerked him up by the collar and froze as he heard the clicking of six guns. "You tell Rainey that this isn't the deal we made and if he doesn't want my money then I'll take it else where," he told him then shoved him back. "Tell him that I am not a man he wants to f*** with!"

~*~*~*~

Ezra straightened his clothes as he watched the agents get in their car and tear out of the warehouse.

"Aaron, are you okay?" one of the bodyguards asked.

"I'm fine, Dion."

"Lawson looked mad. Do ya think he'll pull out?"

"Lawson isn't going anywhere. He needs this deal as much as Rainey does." After all, it is his job. Ezra silently added.

~*~*~*~

Another meeting was scheduled one week later. Chris's team was in place as was their backup. This case ended today.

"Aw, Mr. Lawson," Rainey said holding his hand. "I apologize for my absence from our last scheduled meeting."

"Mr. Rainey," Chris replied and shook the offered hand.

"And for the incompetence of my men."

Chris's eyes narrowed as he noticed the bruises on his green-eyed man and fought the urge to rip this bastard apart for having dared to touch him, much less hurt him. And why he cared was still a mystery to him.

"Did you bring all of my merchandise this time?" He wanted to get this over with. He wanted to get his green-eyed man away from Rainey. He wanted to know this man's name.

"I have all that you requested."

"Show me."

Buck and the others were to storm the warehouse as soon as Chris said the words, very good. Once the crate was opened Vin reached inside and removed one of the guns and quickly examined it, before handing it over to Chris.

"Very good." The words had no sooner left his mouth before Buck was crashing through the doors.

"ATF! Nobody move!" And of course, everyone took off running.

Chris swore as he saw Rainey and two of men jump into a car and took off. Running over everything and anyone that got in their way. Chris quickly looked around for his green-eyed man and saw him crouched behind a crate with two other men.

Seeing the two men take a hit Chris watched as his green-eyed man quickly checked for a pulse before raising his head. Their eyes met and even from here Chris knew what the man was about to do. They both took off running at the same time.

"Hold it!" he hollered. "Don't make me shoot you!" Chris warned him. "Turn around. Slowly."

The man slowly turned and was careful to keep his hands where Chris could see them.

"Not so cocky now, are you?"

"You haven't got me yet," the man grinned and winked at him.

"Watch him," Chris told Vin as the sharpshooter joined them and handed over his gun.

"Are you going to frisk me?"

Chris felt his breath catch at the question. "Place your hands on the wall and spread your legs."

"Are you always so direct? Don't you believe in foreplay?"

Chris didn't say a word as he patted the man's chest finding nothing . . . except hard muscle. Don't go there, he warned himself, then moved to the man's arms and paused as he felt something strapped to the man's right arm. Applying a little pressure caused a small gun to pop out into the palm of the man's opened hand.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

"A gift from my mother."

"Carrying concealed weapons is against the law," Chris told him with a grin and handed the gun to Vin.

"I'm not the only one concealing a weapon," the man whispered.

Chris felt heat engulf his face as those green eyes looked pointedly at his groin. With a shake of his head Chris continued his search for weapons. After patting the man's other arm Chris moved to his legs. He quickly patted down each leg, totally ignoring the pulsing heat he felt between them.

"This would be so much better if we were both naked," the man whispered. "And had a bed. A big one."

"For the love of God, please shut up," Chris was fast losing control.

"I'm sorry."

"Cuff him," he told a near by cop. Then forced himself to turn away before he did something he'd regret. Something he'd lose his badge over.

Walking over to join the rest of his team, Chris turned back and made eye contact with his green-eyed tormentor and was surprised by the lack of emotion he saw on his face. He expected to see anger. Maybe even a little apprehension. Something. Anything. Chris had to wonder if the man realized just what kind of danger he was in. He wondered why the man didn't understand that he was about to go to jail. That . . . that they might not ever see each other again.

'Where the hell had that come from?'

Hearing someone call his name had Chris dragging his gaze away from the man for a few seconds. A sixth sense had him turning his attention back and when he did it was to see the green-eyed man crash through a near by window. Without thinking or waiting for backup Chris took off after him.

Rounding a corner Chris feared for a moment that he had lost him, but then caught just a glimpse of him as he darted into a warehouse. He paused at the door and pulled his gun. Hoping he wouldn't be forced to use it.

Chris had taken about five steps before he found himself being slammed against the wall. He swore, as in a blink of an eye he felt his own handcuffs circle his wrists which now hung on a hook above his head. Turning he found himself staring down the barrel of his own gun.

"Shooting me will only make things worse for you . . ."

"Shooting you?" the green-eyed man repeated. "Oh, no my darlin' man I would never harm a hair on your head," he said stepping closer.

"W..what are you doing?" Chris asked and forced himself to back away.

"You aren't afraid of me, are you?"

"No," he said straightening his shoulders. I'm afraid of what you do to me.

"Good," came a whispered reply.

"If . . . if you cooperate, you'll get a lighter sentence," Chris told him. "Maybe even less jail time."

"Cooperating has never been my strong suit," he smiled. "In fact, I'm been told that I don't play well with others."

"Do you?" Chris couldn't help but ask.

"Well, now that depends on the game being played," green eyes softly replied. "But then again my whole life is a game."

Chris watched in concern as the man staggered back a couple of steps. "Are you all right?"

"I'm tired," he said with a sigh. "Very tired."

Chris felt his pulse quicken as the man licked his lips. The man then pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket, put them on then removed a handkerchief, and preceded to clean his prints off the gun.

"I want nothing more than to simply go home and go to bed," he whispered, then stepped closer until they were almost touching. "But I don't want to be alone . . ."

Chris lowered his head and offered, "Let me help you."

The man straightened to his full height and looked directly at him. "I'm not ready to let you arrest me. Nor am I ready to go to jail," he said. Then turned toward the door. "And I can't afford to have you follow me. The calvary should be here any minute now," the man said removing the clip from Chris's gun. He placed the gun back in its holster and the clip inside Chris's front pants pocket.

Chris felt his pulse begin to race and found himself staring at the man's lips. Almost desperately wanting a taste.

A blast of a horn broke them out of their trance as they heard someone calling Chris's name. "The cavalry has arrived. See ya later."

Chris tore his eyes away from that retreating back and hollered at Vin and Buck as they walked into the warehouse.

~*~*~*~

Ezra took off running as soon as he heard Chris holler. Glancing back he saw Vin draw his gun, but refused to dart into the crowd. Ezra would not be to the cause of someone innocent getting hurt. He winced and nearly fell to his knees as bullet tore through his side. Clutching the burning wound Ezra allowed the panicking crowd to cover him and his get away. Once the coast was clear he slowly made his way back to his hotel.

Stumbling into the room Ezra started to collapse on the bed, but knew he had to see to his side first. Luckily the bullet had gone straight through, so he should be all right. He cleaned the wound as best as he could and wrapped a bath towel around it before heading for the closet and removing one of his suitcases. Laying the bag on the bed he removed the false bottom revealing an assortment of syringes, bandages, creams, and a vial of antibiotics. Removing the towel Ezra lifted the vial, filled the syringe, and gave himself a shot. Then wrapped a bandage around the wound as tight as he could. Only after cleaning up his mess and making sure there was no blood did Ezra allow himself to fall across the bed in exhaustion. He hadn't lied to Chris, when he told him he was tired. He was so tired.

~*~*~*~*~

Josiah just did resist the urge to strangle Vin when he told them what he'd done.

"What do you mean you shot him?" Chris asked.

"I mean I shot him," Vin repeated. "It's the weirdest thing . . . I know he saw me draw on him and I would have sworn he'd dart into the crowd, but he didn't. He took that bullet."

Josiah could hear the respect in Vin's voice.

"He stumbled, but kept going."

"Nathan call around and ask if anyone fitting his description has been admitted . . ."

"Don't bother," Josiah told them. "He won't go the hospital. He's smart. Too smart. He's knows that all gun shot wounds have to be reported."

"Oh, so all of a sudden you can give me a profile?" Chris snapped.

"I'm giving you an opinion based on the information that I've been given!" Josiah snapped right back. "I'm guessing since he didn't follow Rainey then he has a back up plan. He's too self-reliant not to have."

"So how do we find him?" Buck asked, hoping to return a little order.

"We don't, unless he wants to be found."

~*~*~*~*~

Ezra groaned and forced his eyes opened. Then winced as pain shot up his side. Pushing himself he sat up and changed the bandaged, pleased to see that there was no blood on the old one. Ezra gave himself another shot then reached for the phone. He had a case to close.

Hanging up the phone Ezra dropped back on the bed with a sigh. To his surprise his new supervisor, Edward Campbell, had asked him if he was all right. Ezra told him he was fine. That he wanted to finish this. Campbell told him that Larabee and his men had gotten the guns they were after and were searching high and low for both him and Rainey.

Ezra knew he'd have to call Josiah or the man might be tempted to blow his cover. And he wasn't ready for him to do that yet. But he'd call the older man later. Much later.

Crawling under the covers Ezra knew it was now up to him to nail Rainey's ass to the wall. He smiled and thought he just might allow a certain blonde agent to assist him. Only he'd do it tomorrow. Right now he was going back to sleep.

~*~*~*~

Chris Larabee was not a happy man. Far from it. The last two weeks had been hell. He and his men had searched everywhere for his green-eyed man and they had yet to find him.

They had gotten the guns so as far as Chris's bosses were concerned the case was closed. If they managed to catch Rainey then that was fine, but they would not waste any more man power searching for him any longer.

Two months later Team Seven was asked to assist another team with a raid. Everyone was in place as Chris moved in closer the silently swore as he saw Rainey.

"Chris," Vin nudged him.

Chris felt the breath lodge in his throat as he looked where Vin pointed. It was his green-eyed man! He's alive. Thank you, God. The man would not get away again, Chris vowed.

The signal was given as they quickly moved in. With Chris making a bee line for his tormentor. And pitied anyone that got in his way.

The green-eyed man saw Chris and the others headed for him and immediately dropped to his knees, laying his gun on the floor. Spoiling all Chris's fun.

"Aww, so we meet again," the man grinned.

"You'll not get away this time," Chris told him, as he personally placed the handcuffs on him.

"We shall see," the man purred in response.

An hour later found the men at the police station. Rainey was dead, more guns were off the street, and the green-eyed man was waiting to be questioned.

Chris and the others stood on one side of the mirror watching as Randy Cedars, the leader of Team Three walked into the other room.

"This should be good," Josiah said with a wide grin.

"Okay, let's make this as short and as sweet as we can," Cedars said as he sat down.

"Sounds like a plan."

"Good. Now then, we have you on illegal gun trafficking, resisting arrest . . ."

"Resisting arrest? How do you figure that? I willingly laid down my gun."

Chris shook his head at that. He still couldn't believe it had been that easy, but unlike the first time Chris hadn't left the man alone. He kept his tormentor close to his side.

"I'm referring to the raid two months ago . . ."

"Ah. Yes, that's true. Please continue."

"And assaulting an agent . . ."

"Do you have a cigarette?"

"Here . . ."

"Oh, no thank you I don't smoke."

"If you don't smoke then why ask for one . . ."

"I never assaulted that agent . . ."

"You held him against his will . . ."

"Excuse me, but if I recall correctly I asked if you had a cigarette. Not for one."

Chris and the others grinned at the confused look on Randy's face. To bad this guy wasn't on their side.

"Now, I'm just going to ask you a few questions," Cedars told him. "How long have you worked for Rainey?"

"You know you're wasting your time. Don't you?"

"How do you figure?"

"I'll be out of here before your keystone cops even get started on the paperwork."

"Think so do you?"

"Where is Mr. Rainey?"

Chris grinned as Cedars had to pause once again at the swift change of topics. It's nice to see it just wasn't him that the man got to.

"The morgue."

"Killed him did you?"

"He drew on an officer. We had no choice."

"I do not work for Mr. Rainey."

"What?"

"I do not work for Mr. Rainey."

"Then who do you work for?"

"There's always a choice. You could have wounded him. Much like the handsome sharpshooter that shot me," the green-eyed man said. "He could have killed me, but choose not to. That makes him a good agent. From where I'm sitting it makes him one hell of a good agent. You apparently haven't mastered that yet."

Chris's grin grew as Vin gave him a playful shove at the compliment and as Cedars's face turned red at the taunt. The grin turned into a frown as he realized what the man said. Handsome sharpshooter.

"You're not handsome," he told Vin.

Vin narrowed his eyes and said, "So you're saying I'm ugly?"

"No . . ."

"Ladies," Buck interrupted. "Do mind? We can't hear."

Chris turned his attention back to the mirror just in time to hear Cedars get in a dig of his own.

"And apparently you haven't learned from your mistakes . . ."

"I'm self-employed."

"Huh?"

"I made no mistake. Everything went according to plan."

"What's your name?"

"You mean you haven't discovered it yet?"

"No . . ."

"Well, far be it from me to tell you."

"Why not?"

"It's your job."

"What the hell is your damned name!"

"Please do not speak to me in such a manner," the green-eyed man calmly told him. "I am a gentleman and should be spoken to accordingly."

"Why you . . ."

"Touch me," the man said in a quiet tone, "and I'll have your badge. Your job. And your life savings that you keep in the cookie jar above your refrigerator."

"Get Randy out of there before he blows this whole case!" DA Travis said, motioning to two men from Team Three. "I need someone else to question him . . . Not you Chris . . ."

"Why not?"

"Because he's gotten away from you once and I don't him pushing your buttons," Travis told him. "Tanner you go."

~*~*~*~

Vin opened the door with one hand, balancing two cups of hot coffee in the other.

"Oh, they're sending in the big guns."

Vin laughed at that. "I brought you a coffee."

"You went to Starbucks for me?"

Again Vin laughed. "Sorry, no. It's from the machine."

"Oh, well, I thank you just the same."

"Here's some cream and sugar if ya want it," he said removing several packets from his pockets.

"One would think that as sweet as I am that I wouldn't need any additional sweetener . . ."

Vin had grin. "It must be the coffee they use." He liked this guy. He would have made a hell of an agent.

"May I ask ya something?"

"I do believe that's why you're here."

Vin nodded his head, yes. "What are 'you' doing here? In a place like this? You're obviously an intelligent man . . ."

"I'm doing my job and that's all I'll tell you. So ask me something else. Or better yet, let me ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Where's that long legged sexy blonde cowboy that arrested me?"

"Chris really doesn't like to be called a cowboy," Vin said with a grin. He could just picture Chris narrowing his eyes and clinching his jaw as he listened to them.

The man answered that grin with one of his own. "So I've been told."

"So what's your name?"

"Are we going to play twenty questions?"

"If you want, but I want honest answers."

"I'll answer as honestly as I can."

Vin nodded his head. "Fair enough. What's your name?"

"You may call me Aaron."

"Last name?"

"Uh, uh, it's mine turn," Aaron said. "What's your name?"

"Vin Tanner, ATF Team Seven, Sharpshooter," Vin told him holding out his hand.

"That was one hell of a shot, Mr. Tanner," Aaron replied as they shook hands. "You could have killed me, but didn't. Why?"

"Don't shoot people in the back . . ."

"You shot me while I had my back turned to you."

Vin felt the blood drain from his face at that and shook his head. "No. It's different. You turned and saw me. You could have stopped. Why didn't you dart into the crowd?"

"And kill an innocent person? Never. I'd have shallowed that bullet first."

Vin believed that Chris's green-eyed man would do just that. "That's something you don't come across very often . . ."

"What?"

"A criminal with a code of honor."

Aaron smiled at him. "I've broken no laws . . ."

"Oh, yeah, then what were you doing at the warehouse?"

"Sightseeing . . ."

Once again Vin laughed. "Talk about going off the beaten path . . ."

The man laughed. "Yes! I'll have to be sure to speak with my travel agent."

Vin just shook his head.

"So, is the cowboy's behind the glass," Aaron said with a twinkle in his green eyes.

Looking into those green eyes, Vin knew why Chris was so taken with this man. A person could drown in those eyes.

"Mind if I take these off?" he rattled the cuff that held him to the table.

"Oh! Sure," Vin went to get to his feet, but stopped as the cuffs suddenly fell off Aaron's wrists.

"It's something my dear old mom taught me," he said getting to his feet. "And speaking of my mom . . . I want my gun back."

"Gun?"

"The derringer."

"Sorry, but it's evidence . . ."

"I want my gun back," Aaron told him. "Feel kinda naked without it."

"You won't need it where you're going . . ."

"Once I'm released, I'm crossing the Mississippi and carrying my sou . . . sorry ass home."

Vin grinned as Aaron stepped up to the glass. This can't be good, he thought and rubbed a hand across his face as Aaron pressed closer still.

Placing a hand on the mirror he spread his fingers and leaned in closer as if he could see the person he sought. "So, you like to watch. Do you, cowboy?"

Vin bit his lip and groaned.

"I'm more of a hands on kinda guy, myself."

"You like living dangerously," Vin stated with a grin.

"A friend of mine once told me that we're only given one life and we'd best make the best of the time we're given," was the reply. "You're certainly one to talk . . ."

"What do ya mean?"

"You went undercover with a man that screams authority . . ."

"What?"

"There's a difference between authority and power. Chris is authority personified. You on the other hand could very easily walk that line . . . with a little help."

"If you knew we were agents they why?"

"Your roles lead to the successful completion of my own role."

"Huh?"

"It suited my purposes . . ."

The sound of raised voices had Vin getting to his feet and placing himself between Aaron and the door.

The door was suddenly thrown opened and three men wearing black suits walked in.

"Aww, the cavalry has arrived," Aaron laughed.

"Hello, Aaron," one of the men said. "Cuff him."

"What the hell's going on?" Vin demanded stepping up to the man.

"They're FBI agents and have come to take Aaron into custody," DA Travis explained. "Step aside, Agent Tanner."

"How'd they know he was here?"

"We've been following him since he entered the state of Colorado," one agent said.

"Then, why the hell haven't you picked him up before now?" Chris snapped, as he pushed his way into the room.

"We saw no point in all of us doing the same job."

"Yeah, we knew you'd catch him," the man shrugged. "So we let you."

~*~*~*~

"Let us?" Chris took exception to that and would have rushed the son of a bitch if not for the hand that grabbed his arm. Whipping his head around he found himself staring into the green eyes of his tormentor.

"Come now, cowboy. You're all on the same side. Are you not?"

Chris could feel the heat from each of the fingers wrapped around his arm and almost shivered as that heat worked it's way through his body to settle at the juncture of his thighs. While he was trying to rein in his traitorous body, the FBI agents pulled Aaron away from him and secured his hands behind his back.

Once the loss of contact registered Chris reached out and pulled 'his' tormentor back toward him. "First of all, 'you' didn't 'let us' do anything. 'We' did our jobs! And maybe if 'you' had done 'yours' then you wouldn't have had to follow him to Denver!"

"Agent Larabee we never meant to imply . . ."

"I don't give a shit what you did or didn't mean!" Chris told the agent. "And you're not taking him anywhere without the proper paperwork! Hell, we haven't even had a chance to question him yet."

"You've had him an hour! How much time do you need?"

"Excuse me . . ." Aaron said.

"You stay out of this!" the agent said, poking him in the chest which caused him to stumble back a couple of steps.

"Don't you shove him!" Chris growled and narrowed his eyes giving the man his deadliest glare.

"Chris!" DA Travis quickly said, stepping between the men. "Here's the paperwork. He's going with them. Now hand him over."

'No!' Chris silently screamed. 'I don't want to give my tormentor to them!'

"Don't worry, cowboy," Aaron said, pulling away from him. "I'll be back."

Chris watched him go and felt like punching someone.

"You all right?" Buck asked.

"Why wouldn't I be? He's just a criminal."

"He'll be all right," Josiah told them.

"How ya figure?" Vin wanted to know.

"I know those agents. They won't mistreat him."

~*~*~*~

"Damn, Ezra," James Connor laughed as they 'escorted' him to the car. "What'd you do to those men?"

"Yeah, I thought Larabee was gonna take our heads off," Jesse Scott told him.

"You all right Ezra?" Tommy Davis asked. "No aftereffects from your gunshot wound?"

"I merely did my job," Ezra grinned at them, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Is it my fault the Denver ATF got a little shook up in the process?"

"Did you get what you were after?"

"Yes, it's in my personal effects, but let's wait until we're in the car before discussing this further." Ezra's Southern accent was back. Since this case began he'd been trying to speak as 'normal' as possible and was glad to his own voice back.

By now they'd reached a plain nondescript black car. But Ezra felt reluctant to leave. He had unresolved business with Larabee, but could think of no plausible reason to stay. What had started out as a game quickly turned into something much more meaningful. Something Ezra wasn't ready to let go of just yet. Throwing one last look over his shoulder Ezra hoped for one last look, but it wasn't to be. So with a wry shake of his head he got in the car.

~*~*~*~

Three Months Later

The members of Team Seven were all in the conference room discussing their current case when there was a knock at the door.

"Sorry, to interrupt, but I have someone here, I want you gentlemen to meet," Director Travis said, as he stepped into the room.

"It's okay, Sir, we're just getting started," Chris told him. Then narrowed his eyes as those same three FBI agents walked in. "What the hell are they doing here?"

"Now, Chris they were just doing they jobs," Travis explained. "And they're not who I want you to meet."

"Then they can wait outside. Can't they."

"No. They stay," Travis told him. "Now then, unbeknownst to us there was an FBI agent working undercover on the Rainey case and given the nature of his involvement I thought you in particular would like to meet him."

"Why?"

"Chris Larabee I'd like you to meet . . . Ezra Standish."

Chris felt the blood drain from his face and his pulse begin to race as his green-eyed tormentor walked into the room. "You! You're FBI?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Larabee," Ezra said with a grin.

The black clad agent shivered as that accent washed over him. He frowned as Ezra turned and held his arms out. Turning his mouth fell open as he saw Josiah jump to his feet and rush over to him.

"Ezra, my boy!" Josiah cried and wrapped him up in a bear hug.

"Father, please!" Ezra began to fuss. "You are wrinkling my suit!"

"Father?" five stunned voices repeated.

"Didn't you know Josiah used to be a man of the clothe?"

"Yeah, but . . ."

"Surely you didn't think he was my 'real' father did you?" Ezra gave an ungentle man like snorted only to slapped on the back of the head by Josiah. "Do you mind! I swear, Josiah I don't know what I'm going to do with you. First you mess up my suit! Now my hair! Is it any wonder I shipped you off to Denver?!"

"Shipped me off?" Josiah repeated with a shake of his head. "That's gratitude for you!"

"You mean to tell me that you knew who he was the whole time?" Chris wanted to know, even though he could see the answer for himself. He held up his hand as Josiah made to explain. "Don't. I'll deal with you later. In the meantime you need to decide where your loyalties lie."

"His loyalties lie with you gentlemen," Ezra told him in a rare show of temper. "Did he in any way impede the process of this case?"

"No . . . Now you wait just a minute," Chris growled. "I'm not the guilty party here! He withheld vital information . . ."

"Only to protect the identity of his former partner! If he had not then I can guarantee that you and your team would have been yanked off this case! And the Denver ATF would not have gotten the guns off the street, which might I add was your goal," Ezra pointed out.

"You don't know anything about my goals!"

"You work for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms! It doesn't take a genius to figure it out!"

Chris narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to only to snap it shut as 'Ezra' continued.

"You know I'm right," Ezra said. "You've been in the system long enough to know how it works. This way you got the guns and we got Rainey's Swiss bank accounts. We both won."

Chris figured that silence was golden in this case and kept his mouth shut. But he'd get Josiah later.

"So what are you doing in Denver?" Josiah asked.

"I came to give a deposition on the Rainey case."

"How long are you staying?"

"Just over night," Ezra told him. "I have to be back in Atlanta tomorrow."

"Maybe we can have lunch," Josiah suggested.

"Mr. Tanner did you get my gun?" Ezra asked.

"Yeah, it's in my desk . . ."

"Thank you," the Southerner smiled at him. "I'll pick up when I met Josiah for lunch."

"Can we come too?" JD asked.

"I have no objection if Josiah doesn't."

"Okay, then it's settled. Just met us here whenever you get through."

"So let's see we'll need a table for . . . eleven," Buck said after doing a quick head count.

"No, leave us out," one of the agents said. "The DA's done with us. Our plane leaves in an hour. But thanks anyway."

"And I'm meeting my wife for lunch so that leaves just the seven of you . . ."

"Six." Chris raised his chin as everyone turned to look at him. "I'm not going either."

"Good," Ezra said with a cheeky grin. "We'll probably have more fun without you."

"I'm going dammit!" Chris snapped then regretted it.

"Temper, temper . . ."

Director Travis stepped forward and grabbed Ezra's arm. "Come on, Standish. I think that's our cue to leave."

Chris couldn't believe how angry he was. Or how relieved. He'd spent these last few months worrying and second guessing himself. For what? The man was an agent! An FBI agent! An undercover FBI agent! He should have ripped the bastard's head off! He should have . . . done something! Instead of just arguing with him. Hell, he's done nothing but argue with that green-eyed little shit since he met him.

'But you like to argue,' his subconscious pointed out. 'You love having someone going toe-to-toe with you. Having someone push you to your limits has never been more fun. What was even more fascinating was that this 'someone' wasn't afraid of him.'

With a shake of his head Chris pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and turned his attention to something or rather someone he knew he could intimidate.

"My office now," he told Josiah. He almost smiled as he heard the older man say.

"It's been nice working with you boys," Josiah said, then follow him.

~*~*~*~

Vin looked up and grinned as he saw Ezra swagger into their office area. He exchanged a look with Buck and that grin grew. It was a very rare indeed to see anyone go toe-to-toe with Chris Larabee. Yet, this man had pulled the rug out from under Chris on their first meeting and bless Chris's heart he was still floundering trying to find his feet.

"Hey Ezra!" he called out.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Ezra told them all. "Well, Josiah you don't look any worse for wear. I take it that Mr. Larabee only gave you a firm talking to."

Josiah heaved a heavy sigh. "Very firm."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No Ezra," Josiah told him then grinned. "Careful you're gonna make me think you care."

Ezra grinned in response. "Can't have that can we, old man."

"No, son, we can't."

Vin's grin grew at Ezra's next question.

"He still going with us?"

"He ain't said," Buck told him with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Well, then I guess we'll have to ask him," the Southerner said. Then walked over to Chris's door and very politely knocked. And knocked.

They could all hear a muffed response, but Ezra just kept knocking until finally the door was thrown open.

"What?!" Chris bellowed. "Oh, I should have known it'd be you! What the hell do you want?"

"It's a pleasure to see you again as well, Mr. Larabee . . ."

"Look, Agent Standish . . ."

"May I come in?"

"Why?"

"Because I wish to speak with you . . ."

"Why?"

"Are you always so suspicious?"

"Fine. Come on in," Chris told him.

"Said the spider to fly," Ezra replied with a wide grin that showed his gold tooth. "But one must ask . . . which is the spider and which is the fly . . ."

"I don't give a shit," Chris interrupted. "If you want to talk then get your ass in here."

"Language, Mr. Larabee, language," the Southerner fussed and stepped into the office. Just before the door shut, Ezra turned and said, "If I'm not out in fifteen minutes send in a paramedic."

"I like him, Josiah," Vin said with a laugh. "Where'd you'd find him?"

"We kinda found each other," Josiah told him. "I've known Ezra since he joined the Bureau five years ago. He was fresh out of the military and full of spit and vinegar. Ready to take on the world and anyone that got in his way."

"Were you his partner all that time?" Buck asked.

"No," the older man shook his head. "We were paired together after his other partner was killed in the line of duty."

"Why'd you get transferred?" JD wanted to know.

"Insubordination is the official reason. The real reason is that Grayson blamed Ezra for William Tuner death. William was Ezra's first partner and was rumored to be Grayson's lover . . ."

"If he was after Ezra then why were you transferred?" Vin questioned.

"Because Ezra knew what Grayson was up to and ignored him. Totally ignored him. It drove the man crazy. Ezra wasn't about to give Grayson the satisfaction of getting the better of him," Josiah paused and ran a hand through his hair. "But I couldn't take it anymore and told him something and," he shrugged, "if I had kept my hands to myself I'd probably still be in Atlanta."

They all looked up as a loud thud could be heard from within Chris's office and Josiah jumped to his feet.

"Sit down Josiah," Vin told him. "Chris wouldn't hurt him. He likes him to much."

"But . . ."

"Well, now you can't blame Chris for getting a little of his own back, can you?" Buck asked.

"It's a damn shame that Ezra lives way out there in Atlanta," Vin went on to say. "He's just what Chris needs . . ."

"Yeah, it like his relationship with Mary is going anywhere," Nathan added.

"He likes Mary because she's safe. Chris don't have to think with Mary . . ."

"But with Ezra," Vin grinned. "He'd have his hands full . . ."

"And if he's not careful Ezra would run all over him," JD finished for him.

Just then the office door opened and out walked Ezra, looking a little rumbled, but unharmed. A glance through the door revealed a very stunned looking Chris Larabee sitting on his desk.

"Well, gentlemen whose hungry?" Ezra asked.

"Is Chris coming?" JD asked.

"Oh, but of course," the Southerner replied. "Come on along, cowboy. I haven't got all day. I do have a plane to catch."

"Can't you stay a couple of days?" Josiah asked.

"Wish I could, but I'm about to start on a new case and need to get prepared," Ezra said coming to a surprised stop, then turned on his heel, and marched into Chris's office, grabbed him by the hand, and pulled Chris out of the office behind him.

"I guess we're all going," Vin stated. Then grinned at the look Chris gave him. The sharpshooter laughed as Chris jerked his hand away from Ezra then stalked down the hall toward the elevator. Yeap, he really liked Ezra.

~*~*~*~

Three Months Later

Chris and four members of his team were sitting at the conference table eating lunch. Well, they were eating Chris was just picking at his food. He hadn't had much of an appetite lately. Chris couldn't believe how much he missed his favorite tormentor, especially given the fact that he hardly knew the man. He absently touched his lips as he remembered the kiss him and Ezra shared in his office. Even now his body responded.

Hearing the conference room door open Chris looked up and frowned as he saw Josiah. While he understood Josiah's reasons for not telling them about Ezra, Chris still hadn't forgiven the man yet.

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"You still looking for an undercover agent?"

"Yeah." Although, Chris wasn't looking as hard as he knew he should. Hell, he knew there was only one undercover agent he wanted and he didn't see that happening.

"Well, I think I can help you," Josiah told him. "We just got the fingerprints back on Jonathan James," he said, handing Chris a file.

"Yeah, so? What am I looking at?" Chris frowned. "So, he lied about his name . . ."

"Check out who his father is?"

"Edward Campbell," he read the name, then shrugged. "So the kid's from Atlanta. What's that got . . . Atlanta? Edward Campbell?" Okay, he thought with a nod of his head. Things were starting to fall into place. Hot damn! He silently cried. Then with a smile that made his blue-green eyes sparkle with new life Chris looked at the older man and said, "Welcome to the team Josiah. I think you're going to fit in just fine here."

With the file in his hand Chris got to his feet and headed for his office. Unaware that the others were following him, until he turned to close the door and there they stood.

"What the hell do you want?" he demanded as they pushed their way into his office.

"To help," Nathan said.

"Offer some assistance," Josiah told him.

"To listen," Vin grinned.

"I just followed them," JD said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Figured you might need a coach . . ."

"What?"

"Now, now, don't go getting upset," Buck told him. "I've known you what . . . forever, right? And for all your good points you lack a certain . . . finesse"

"I do not! I can finesse with the best of them," Chris all but growled.

Buck held up his hands in a mock surrender. "I hope so, pard, 'cause you can't expect the FBI to just hand over their top undercover agent . . ."

"Oh, I don't know about that Buck," Josiah interrupted. "They might. Ezra ani't the easiest person to work with."

"Don't matter," Chris said. "I want him." Those three words send a thrill down his spine and made him more determined than ever to bring Ezra Standish to Denver where he belonged.

"Just how hard 'is' he to work with?" Nathan questioned.

"Oh, he'll do his job, but Ezra can be . . . difficult," Josiah told him. "It'll be like having two of him." He pointed toward Vin, who grinned at them. "Except, as you well know . . . Ezra likes to talk."

With narrowed eyes Chris looked from Josiah to Vin and said, "I can handle him." Then continued on to his desk. "Well sit down if you're gonna stay. And close the door," he barked.

Only once they were all seated and promised not to say a word did Chris reach for the phone and punch in the number.

"Yes, I wa . . . would like to speak with Edward Campbell," Chris said, then cleared his throat. "Chris Larabee, Denver ATF." He gave the lady his name and title.

"Mr. Larabee."

"Mr. Campbell . . . there's no easy way to put this so let me just get right to the point. My team and I arrested your son Jonathan this morning . . ."

"Aww, hell, what's he's done this time?"

"Illegal gun trafficking, possession of a narcotic, and . . ."

"Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's fine . . ."

"I take it that since you're calling you want to make a deal . . ."

"Oh, no. There'll be no deals," Chris was quick to tell him, then glared as his team groaned. "I will however, give him to you and lose his file . . ."

"Are you attempting to blackmail me, Agent Larabee?"

"Blackmail? No. I'm just extending a little professional courtesy . . ."

"And what is this courtesy going to cost me?"

"Three things. First of all you have to agree to see to it that Jonathan gets some help. Real help," Chris told him. "Secondly, you and Jonathan need to understand that if he gets so much as gets a speeding ticket within the state of Colorado then I will personally nail his ass to the wall."

"Okay, that sounds fair," Campbell said. "And the third?"

"This is the most important one. Without this one the other two aren't worst shit." Chris gave him a minute to absorb that then continued, "I need an undercover agent . . ."

"An undercover agent? Oh, let me guess . . . you want Standish. Don't you?" Campbell asked.

"That's right."

"Ezra Standish?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? Ezra can be damned difficult. He doesn't follow any rules. Or regulations. He very seldom wears a vest. The one person Standish half way listened to was Sanchez and now that he's gone I can't do a damned thing with him! And he takes it as an insult if you try to make him come to work before ten in the morning!"

"Sounds like he'll fit right in with the rest of my misfits," Chris grinned.

"Yes, so I've heard. Look, Ezra's one the best damned undercover agents I've ever worked with, but make no mistake, Larabee, if it wasn't for his record . . . Ezra's ass would have been nailed to the wall years ago. But hey, if you want him, then he's yours."

"Great! Now how soon can I expect him?"

"When will you release my son?"

"When you deliver my agent," Chris told him.

"We'll be there next week."

"Good. And don't worry about Jonathan. We'll put him in solitary confinement and keep him away from the other inmates."

"Thanks, Larabee. And don't you worry, I'll see to it that Jonathan gets the help he needs," Campbell told him. "Hey, Larabee?"

"Yeah?"

"What if Ezra doesn't want to transfer?"

Chris hadn't thought of that.

"Don't worry. You have Sanchez and that's point in your favor."

Chris replaced the phone and rubbed his face, then with a heart felt sigh let his head drop onto his desk with a resounding thud. 'What the hell am I doing?' He muttered to himself or so he thought.

"Chris?"

"You all right, pard?"

"Am I all right?" Chris repeated. "Hell, no! I'm not all right! I just blackmailed an FBI agent, for crying out loud! Hell, I don't know if the man even wants to come to Denver!"

"You didn't blackmail anyone!" Buck was quick to correct him.

"Yeah, then what do you call it?"

Buck opened his mouth, but nothing came out and wound up just shrugging.

"A trade."

Chris and the others all turned to look at JD in surprise.

"What? It was a mutual agreement," the younger man told them. "Besides it didn't sound like Campbell put up much of a fight."

"JD's right," Vin said. "Seems to me that Campbell still owes you. This could have turned real ugly if the press had gotten a hold of it."

"You did good, Chris," Josiah told him. "Sure Ezra's gonna bitch and moan and make you question why you even bothered, but that's good. So long as he's complaining then you know he's working to fit in. To find his niche. It's when he's quiet that you have to worry. A quiet Ezra is a very dangerous thing."

"How dangerous?"

"Like you. Maybe more because no one suspects it," Josiah replied. "With you . . .," he shrugged. "People know you've got a dangerous edge. But with Ezra . . ."

"He's like a sponge, ani't he," Vin stated. "He'll take or rather absorb until he can't anymore and then . . ."

"Exactly," the older man said with a smile.

Vin returned his smile and walked up the Chris and slapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks, cowboy," he told him.

"For what?"

"For my new partner in crime." The long-legged Texan wiggled his eyebrows at him.

Chris groaned at the thought of what those two could get up to. "What the hell have I done?" he asked himself once again.

~*~*~*~

"Denver?" Ezra repeated with a scowl on his handsome face. "But it's cold in Denver! Hell, it snows in Denver!"

Campbell didn't say a word, just nodded his head and let him rant.

"I don't like the cold!" Ezra pointed out. "There's nothing in Denver that appeals to me." He lied. There was one thing . . . or rather one person that appealed to him a great deal.

"What about Sanchez?"

The Southerner snorted at that. "What about him? The man left me . . ."

"He was transferred, Ezra. There's a difference," Campbell told him. "Besides, Larabee wants you. He made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

Ezra felt his pulse begin to race at the double meaning in those three words. Larabee wants you. He could hardly believe that Chris Larabee wanted him after the hell he'd put him through. But then again there was that kiss to consider.

Getting to his feet Ezra walked over to the window and let his mind wonder.

"Mr. Larabee I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved," Ezra said as soon as he stepped into Chris's office and closed the door.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Because as soon as you stepped from your car I got the impression that you were bored and that Mr. Larabee can get you killed," he told him.

"Is that why you winked at me?"

"The first time, yes," Ezra grinned. "The second . . . I did just for the hell of it."

"And the rest . . ."

"It was fun," he said, looking into those blue-green eyes. "I enjoyed it. And if I'm not mistaken you did as well."

"What about the warehouse?"

"I didn't hurt you did I?" Ezra asked, unconsciously holding his breath. And released only as Chris shook his head, no. "Good," his thoughts trailed off as Chris closed the distance between them. Ezra tipped his head back so that he could maintain contact with those eyes, but refused to give up any ground. He would meet whatever Chris did head-on. Ezra did give a slight tremble as he felt the heat from Chris's body teased his own.

As if pulled by magnets their lips moved closer, until they were only a breath apart and then finally there was contact. It was only a whisper of a touch, but it left both men trembling and aching for more. Slowly they nipped at each other's lips. Neither wanted to frighten the other with the depth of their passion, but both needed more.

A name was whispered and Ezra grunted as he found himself pushed hard up against the door as they shared a desperate kiss filled with longing and pent up desire. Ezra welcomed the weight of the body pushing him into the door. Welcomed the hands that clutched at him. Welcomed the leg that was thrust between his legs. Welcomed the feel of Chris beneath his fingers. Welcomed the taste of him on his tongue.

With a resolve that surprised him, Ezra pushed away from the door and against Chris until the older man moved back, but didn't release Ezra's lips. Walking Chris backwards, Ezra didn't stop until Chris's legs hit the desk behind him and the blonde was sitting on the edge. Slowly Ezra pressed closer and thrust a leg between Chris's legs.

"Ezra," Chris moaned, as their lips separated.

Hearing his name spoken with such passion had Ezra fighting even harder for control and allowed the outside world to return. With trembling hands Ezra brushed the hair from Chris's face and kissed each of his eyes and whispered, "We can't."

"Why not?" Chris muttered.

"Because your team's on the other side of that door," Ezra told him. "Josiah's on the other side of that door. And I don't want to be quiet. The first time I take you I want to be able to shout it to the world."

Ezra pulled back and saw those eyes, now dark blue with passion, widen as what he said penetrated the sexual haze of Chris's mind. With one last kiss, Ezra stilled any arguments then stepped back and out the door.

With his lips and body beginning to tingle as Ezra realized that maybe, just maybe Denver wouldn't be so bad after all. But he wasn't going tell anyone that.

"I suppose I have no say in the matter?"

"No, Ezra. I'm sorry, but you don't."

"When do I leave?"

"As soon as you're ready."

One Week Later

"Would you hurry up," Edward Campbell grumbled. "We're all ready late."

'Then there is no reason to rush, is there," Ezra told him as he followed him into the building.

"This isn't the way to make a good first impression . . ."

"My dear man, I'm all ready met these men. So that point is irrelevant."

"Ezra," Campbell growled.

"Yes?"

"Shut up and get in the elevator."

"Where the hell have you been? It's after ten!" The words were thrown at them as soon as they stepped into Team Seven's office area.

"I told you!" Edward Campbell cried. "Getting him anywhere before nine is nearly impossible!"

"Oh, so I don't have to be in before ten," Ezra said deliberately misunderstanding him. "Thank you, Edward that was nice of you to arrange."

"Nice try, Standish, but we get to work at seven," Chris told him.

"You may . . ."

"Do you have the necessary paperwork ready?" Edward asked, cutting Ezra off.

"Yeah, I've all ready gotten the director's signature," Chris replied handing him the forms. "Once the two of sign then Ezra will be m . . . a part of my team."

After Edward signed his name he handed the forms to Ezra. Taking the forms Ezra made a production of glancing at each of the five pages and with a frown on his face said, "I don't see the part about me coming in at ten in here."

"That's because it's not," Chris told him. "Now sign it."

"You know no one ever asked me if I wanted to transfer," Ezra felt the need to point that out. "No one asked if I wanted to be cast adrift in great white north . . ."

"You're in Colorado, Ezra," Vin told him with a laugh. "Not Alaska."

"Same difference. It's just as cold," the Southerner grumbled. "Let me tell each of you now that I do not like the cold. I do not like snow. Give me the warm sun shining through a window pane with the air conditioner on. That my new friends is comfort. Shivering and the annoying sound of teeth chattering has no appeal to me . . ."

"Ezra . . ."

"Yes?"

"Sign the damned paper," Chris told him.

Ezra heaved a deep sigh and gave an air of being very put out, but laid the forms on the desk closest to him, paused, and greeted the young man sitting there. "Morning, Mr. Dunn."

"Hey, Ezra," JD replied with a smile.

"I can't sign this . . ."

"Why the hell not?!" Both Chris and Edward cried.

"Pen doesn't write." Ezra had to grin as seven pens were suddenly made available to him. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson," he said and took the medic's pen. "Here you go Mr. Larabee. All signed and dated and ready to be processed."

Chris took the papers and handed Edward a file.

"Good luck to you, Agent Larabee," Edward said.

"Same to you."

"Thanks, but you'll need it more than me," he told him. Then turned to Ezra. "Well, Standish it's been a pleasure working with you . . ."

"Come now, Edward. You shouldn't say things you don't mean." Ezra laughed and took the offered hand.

Edward just grinned and then left.

Ezra watched him go and then walked over to where a vacant desk sat in the corner by the window. "Will this desk be mine?"

"Yeah."

"I don't like how it's set up," he told them. "The sun's at my back and would cast a glare over the computer screen, making me strain my eyes. Thus giving me headache and making me irritable."

"You may move it anywhere 'you' choose," Chris told him.

"Plus you know the sun makes a person sweat and quite frankly that is not how I prefer to work up a sweat," Ezra said with a pointed look at Chris and grinned as the man glared at him. "Mr. Tanner would you mind if I entered your personal domain?"

"Huh?"

"Would mind if I took that desk there in front of you?"

"Nah. I don't mind," Vin said. Then with a smile continued, "So long as you don't mess with my desk."

"You mean there's a desk under there?" Ezra asked, giving the mound of clutter an once over.

"'Course there is," Vin snorted. "What ya think is holding up the paper."

Ezra laughed at that. He liked this scruffy looking man. "Well, now that this awkward first meeting is over, I'll see you gentlemen in the morning . . ."

"Where in the hell do you think you're going?"

Ezra arched on eyebrow at him and replied, "Mr. Larabee I only arrived in the great white north yesterday afternoon and while I do so enjoy room service . . . hotel life it some what expensive. So unless the Denver ATF is willing to pay my living expenses . . ."

"That won't happen," Chris interrupted him.

"Then I need to acquire a place to stay and I'm sure Josiah wants the moving van removed from his front lawn," Ezra informed them. "Oh, and . . . uhm . . . Josiah I am really sorry about those flowers . . . I'm sure they're grow back in no time," he told the older man with a sheepish look.

"That's all right, Ezra. Those were there when I moved in," Josiah assured him. "And you can stay with me until you can find a place of your own," he offered.

"Thanks, Josiah, but I don't think that's such a good idea . . ."

"Why not?"

"Well, my friend, we'd probably wind up killing each other and that would put such a strain on our friendship."

Josiah nodded head in agreement.

"I have an apartment," Chris suddenly said.

"How nice," Ezra told him with a sweet smile.

Chris gave him a dark look then explained, "What I meant was that you're welcomed to stay there if you'd like. It's not to far from where Vin lives. I usually stay at the ranch and drive back forth. In fact, the only time I stay at the apartment is when the weather's bad." Chris suddenly turned away, as if realizing that he was rambling.

The Southerner grinned as he watched Chris head for the coffeepot. Ezra waited until he poured himself a cup of coffee before asking, "So you wouldn't mind if I slept in your bed?"

Causing Chris to spew coffee across the room and the others mouths to drop open in shock.

"Hot damn!" Buck cried and heartedly slapped Ezra on the back in excitement.

"Well, I'll take that as my cue to leave," was Ezra's only reply. Then with a wink at Vin continued, "I'll see you gentlemen in the morning around ten . . ."

"Seven," Chris said, having found his voice.

"Ten."

"Seven!"

"Ten thirty."

"Seven thirty."

"Ten fifteen."

"Eight."

"Nine forty-five."

"Nine."

"Deal," Ezra finally agreed. He'd planned on coming at nine along, but wanted to push Chris's buttons.

"Ezra wait!" Chris called out. "Do you want to stay at my place?"

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I did." Chris scribbled out the address and handed it over.

"Very well, I appreciate your hospitably." Ezra stepped forward and held his hand out for the key that Chris was removing from his key chain. Just as Chris was about to drop the key onto the palm of his hand Ezra brought his hand up and wrapped his fingers around Chris's hand, capturing the key.

"Thank you, Mr. Larabee. You've been most kind," he told him, using his silky Southerner accent to it's fullest potential.

"S..sure no p..problem."

Ezra released him and once again headed for the door only to stop as Josiah called out to him. "Yes?"

"I'll come with you," Josiah offered, getting to his feet.

"That might be best," Ezra agreed. Inwardly he was very pleased, but it wouldn't due to let the older man know. Ezra enjoyed the cat and mouse game they played. "This way you can access the damage done to your flowers. And your fence. You weren't very attached to it, were you?"

"What about my fence? What cha do to my fence? You didn't touch my house, did you?"

"Good, Lord, no!" He shuddered. Then waved his hand toward Buck and Vin. "As for your fence . . . Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Tanner both look to be very capable and I'm sure wouldn't mind helping you to repair the damage. Isn't that right gentlemen?"

"Yeah, sure we'll help ya Josiah," Vin said for the both of them.

"What about you?" Buck questioned.

"Me?" Ezra shook his head. "Oh, no I don't do menial labor. Besides the only help I could offer concerning Josiah's . . . domicile would come with a wrecking ball attached . . ."

"What?" Josiah exclaimed. "There isn't anything wrong with my house! It just . . ."

"Needs a little work," Ezra finished for him. "Is that what the realtor told you? How much have you spent on it so far?"

The older man turned away, making a point of bringing his computer down.

Ezra nodded his head at Josiah silence. "Really, Josiah. They should have paid 'you' to take the house off their hands." He held up his hand as Josiah was about to say something. "I fear that we shall never agree on this. So let's agree to disagree and let it lie."

"Fine," Josiah said with a smile.

"Excellent," the Southerner grinned. "Shall we? I suggest you treat me to lunch . . ."

"Why should I treat you?"

"For allowing you to assist me, of course!"

~*~*~*~

Chris stood there listening as the two men continued to argue on their way to the elevator.

"Josiah seems to be a younger man around Ezra," Nathan said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, they obliviously care about each other," JD added with a grin.

Chris narrowed his eyes as Vin came to stand beside him and waited for him to say something, but he didn't. Vin just stood there with a knowing smirk on his face.

"Yeap," Buck said with a grin, "I know why ya like green eyes . . ."

"Now, Buck," Nathan interrupted, "you know that Chris doesn't like Ezra just for his eyes . . ."

"Yeah, it's his winning personality," JD laughed.

Chris fought hard not to laugh at their teasing and finally had to snap, "Shut the hell up and get back to work!" Then turned on his heel, headed for his office, and closed the door. Only after sitting at his desk did Chris allow himself to give in to his laughter. His good mood.

For the first time in a long time he could feel the blood pumping through his veins. Feel his pulse race. Feel nervous, yet excited at the same time. In short Chris realized that he felt . . . alive. And for once it had nothing to do with the job. And it felt good. Damned good.

Bringing the transfer papers up to his lips he gave them a kiss, then propped his feet on the corner of his desk and realized that he could hardly wait for tomorrow.

The next morning found Chris at work thirty minutes earlier than usual, which meant he'd have even longer to wait for Ezra to arrive. But it wasn't a total waste, the quiet time allowed him to finish up some paperwork and get some filing done.

At precisely eight fifty-nine Chris got to his feet and headed for the door only to stop with his hand on the knob. No. No, he told himself and returned to his desk. He didn't want Ezra to think he was waiting for him. Drumming his fingers on the desk Chris strained his ears trying to hear if Ezra had arrived yet. But for once, Chris couldn't hear a damned thing from the outer office. Earlier he welcomed that quiet earlier, but now it ate at his nerves. He shook his head at the irony of it all.

With a growl of frustration Chris grabbed a file and marched from his office expecting to see Ezra sitting at the desk in front of Vin. Only the desk was vacant. Empty. No Ezra.

"Where the hell is he?!" he bellowed, looking at Josiah.

"I don't know, Chris. He said he'd be here . . ."

"Well he lied!"

"Maybe he's stuck in traffic," Vin quickly offered.

"Or . . . or over slept."

"Or maybe he'd just trying to irritate the shit out of me!" The blonde team leader told them.

"Language, Mr. Larabee, language." A voice said from behind him.

Chris whirled around and snapped, "You're late!"

"Yes," Ezra readily agreed. "And I apologize for that," he went on to say. "I ran into Director Travis. The man can certainly drone on if given an opening, can't he?"

"You expect me to believe that?" Chris asked, then wished he hadn't as he saw those usually lively green eyes turn frosty.

"What I expect Mr. Larabee is to be given the benefit of a doubt," Ezra told him. "If you cannot then this shall be a very short lived relationship."

A heavy silence fell on the room.

Shit! Chris inwardly swore. This was not how he wanted the morning to go!

"Ezra . . ."

"I don't appreciate being called a liar," the Southerner said. "Especially given that the fact that what I said can be easily verified."

Chris was saved from answering as Travis walked in.

"Good morning, gentlemen," he called out. "Listen Chris our ten o'clock meeting with the DA has been canceled. I'll have Gloria call you once it's been rescheduled."

"Thank you," Chris said.

"Did Agent Standish tell you that I was the reason he was late?" Travis asked. "I'm afraid he got caught in the middle of an argument between myself and Evie. I swear that woman is trying to drive me insane."

"Just doing my job dear," a feminine voice said. "Hello, boys," Evie Travis said, smiling as she swept into the room. The Director's wife was a kind tender-hearted lady that treated the members of team seven as if they were her boys. She reminded the older team members of June Clever. Evie Travis had the same type of hair style and in the simple yet classy way she dressed.

"Ezra are you coming to the picnic on Sunday?" she asked.

Ezra smiled at her. "As you'll remember, I've all ready declined your husband's kind invitation. But I do thank you," he replied.

"He'll be there," Travis told her. "They all will."

"No, sir. I will not."

"Agent Standish . . ."

"No disrespect, sir, but how I spend my free time is my business and I'll spend it as I choose . . ."

"This will give you chance to met and interact with the other teams . . ."

"I'll met the other teams as the occasion occurs," Ezra replied. "And I have no wish to interact with them at all."

"Oh, leave the boy alone, Orrin," Evie said as her husband opened his mouth to say something else. "If he doesn't want to come then so be it. He doesn't have to."

Chris tensed as she turned and looked at him.

"I don't think any of the members of this team have come to the picnic before. Have you?"

"No ma'am," he told her. And I'll doubt we'll go this year either, Chris silently added.

"Come along Evie," the Director said. "Let's allow these men to get to work."

Chris watched them leave and darted a look toward the Southerner, realizing that no matter how much he may not want to apologize . . . he knew he had to.

"Sorry I doubted you, Ezra," he quickly said before he lost his nerve. "Now get to work."

"What is it you want me to do?" Ezra asked him before he'd taken two steps.

"What?"

Ezra sighed as he placed his briefcase on his desk. "It is my first day," he told him.

"Oh, yeah . . ."

"Come on, Ez," Vin said as he gathered up a hand full of folders. "Let's go into the conference room and I'll bring you up to speed on our current cases."

"That sounds acceptable, Mr. Tanner. However, my name is Ezra. E z r a," Ezra slowly repeated just to be on the safe side.

"Okay," Vin said with a shrug. "Ez."

Only after the two men left did Chris release the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. Then without a word retreated to his office and closed the door.

~*~*~*~

Three months later Team Seven was asked to assist another team with a raid and were in the process of suiting up.

Ezra jumped as something was suddenly thrust at him. Glancing down revealed a black protective vest.

"What do you wish me to do with that?" he asked his team leader.

"Very funny, Ezra," Chris told him. "Now put it on."

"I'm sorry, but I don't wear vests . . ."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Ezra told him. "Tell him Josiah."

"He claims he can't work with them on," Josiah replied. "Say it restricts his movement and . . ."

"And?"

Ezra nodded at the older man, telling him it was okay.

"It wrinkles his shirt."

"Tough shit," Chris snapped. "Put it on."

"No."

"Either 'you' put that vest . . . or I'll put it on for you."

"Wouldn't you rather undress me?" Ezra asked instead.

"You've picked a hell of a time to start that again . . ."

"Look, these . . . things never fit," the Southerner said. "Believe it or not I'm . . . well . . . a bit odd," Ezra grinned as Chris snorted, "shaped. They're either to big or to small."

He watched as Chris went through all the vest in the storage area trying to find one that would fit.

"Here try this one," Chris told him and handed him a vest.

"I don't . . ."

"All right! That's it!" Chris growled. "Now you listen to me, Standish, you're wearing this vest. Even if I have to duct tape it on you!"

Ezra grinned as Chris put the vest on him then grunted as Chris fastened it rather tight.

"I have a rib cage in there," he informed him. "And some rather vital organs. My heart being one of them . . ."

"Yeap," Chris agreed. "And I want to make sure it keeps beating."

"Oh, it will," Ezra purred. Then looked deeply into those blue-green eyes and stepped closer only to have Chris back away. So Ezra kept going. "How's yours?"

"M..mine?"

"Your heart," he replied, still advancing until Chris hit the wall behind him. "If your pulse is any indication . . . it's beating rather fast," Ezra told him in soft voice. Then leaned closer, he rested his hand on the wall next to Chris's head. But didn't touch him.

He smiled as Chris suddenly shook his head and pushed him away. But before the blonde could say anything Ezra did.

"Really, Mr. Larabee," he fussed as he tugged on his vest. "We don't have time for this! Not to mention this isn't the most appropriate place to try and seduce me . . ."

"Seduce you?"

"Yes, seduce! And all these sexual innuendos I've had to endure must stop," Ezra said, with a wicked twinkle in his green eyes. "We are professional and should behave accordingly . . ." He started to say more, but Vin suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.

"Come on, Ez," Vin said. "It's time to go."

Ezra allowed Vin to lead him from the room, but at the last-minute Ezra turned and winked at Chris much like he had on their first meeting.

An hour later the members of team seven were positioned at the back of a warehouse and had just been given the go-ahead to enter the building. But just as Chris nodded to Josiah to kick the door in, Ezra spoke up. "Wait."

"What?"

"If you kick the door in you'll announce to the occupants that we're here . . ."

"Ezra we don't have time to get someone to pick the lock . . ."

"The only person you need is me," Ezra told him, then went to kneel in front of the door. "You really must work on . . . well . . . trying to be a little more subtle. After all good things come to those who wait," he said as Chris knelt beside him. "The rewards are great indeed." Ezra leaned over and gave the blonde a hard kiss, then pushed the door open.

Three hours later six members of team seven were back at the office typing up their view on the bust. Chris had been called to Travis's office.

Ezra was through with his report and was waiting for Chris to return. And thirty minutes later was rewarded as the tall blonde strolled past his desk heading for his office. Without so much as a look in Ezra's direction. With a thoughtful look on his face Ezra got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair then threw a wink at Josiah when he saw him watching.

"Ezra . . ."

"Don't worry, Josiah," he told him. "I think three months is plenty long enough to wait before jumping one's boss. Wouldn't you gentlemen agree?"

"Go for it, Ezra," Buck said with a grin.

"It's about damned time," Vin grinned.

"If I'm not out in half an hour . . ." Ezra let that sentence trail off with a knowing look and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Lifting his hand, he began to persistently knock on the door.

"Are you going to do this every time you want in my office?"

"I certainly hope not," Ezra told him. "Look my knuckles are red."

"What do you want?"

Ezra groan at that. "Merely a moment of your time," he said stepping forward and directly into Chris, forcing the other man to move backwards. After pushing the door shut Ezra grabbed Chris's face and plundered his mouth.

"E z r a . . ."

"I'm tired of waiting," he panted between kisses. "We've both shown remarkable restraint." More kisses. "And deserve to be rewarded." Capturing those lips Ezra gave him a fierce kiss. "Let's go to mine . . . I mean yours . . . or rather ours," he whispered into Chris's ear, causing the older man to shudder.

"I have a couch," Chris mumbled in a breathless voice.

"As tempting as that sounds," Ezra mumbled against the side of his neck, "the first time I make love to you isn't going to be on a couch." Unable to resist Ezra pressed his tongue into the wildly beating pulse at the base of Chris's neck. "When we make love, it's going to be on a big bed. And you'll be able to scream my name as I bury myself deep within you."

"E z r a," Chris moaned.

The Southerner gave him one last kiss then pulled away. "You have one hour to do what you need to do here," Ezra told him. Then placed a finger over his lips as he was about to say something. "I'll be waiting, cowboy."

~*~*~*~

Chris watched him go and swore at the torrent of emotions coursing through his mind. And the tingle racing across his body. He welcomed both. But was he ready to take this step? Chris hadn't felt this way since Sarah and had to admit that he loved it.

He was ready to love again. He was ready to love Ezra Standish.

Jumping to his feet Chris brought his computer down, shoved a couple of files into his briefcase, that he probably wouldn't even open, and headed for the door, thanking God it was a Friday and that him and Ezra would have the whole weekend together.

"You fellas can leave when ever you want," Chris said as he headed for the elevator. "If you need me, I'll be at Ezra's." That he through over his shoulder and forestalling any teasing.

Getting into his truck and headed for the first drug store, he saw. If he was spending the weekend with Ezra then he'd need a few things. Twenty minutes later he pulled up beside Ezra's Jag and took a few calming breathes trying to regain control. Pushing the door opened he stepped from the truck and headed inside the building.

Using his key, he let himself into the apartment. Pushing the door shut he then locked it and set his briefcase aside. The sound of a door opening had him looking up and felt his mouth go dry at the sight that greeting him.

There standing in front of him was his green-eyed tormentor wearing nothing but a towel. A towel that hung low on the hips. A towel that was tented in the front.

"You're beautiful," Chris whispered as his eyes caressed the lightly tanned skin, muscular legs, and well-defined chest. He then grinned as a rosy hue spread up the chest to settle on Ezra's handsome face.

"D..do you want to shower first?"

"I only want you," he said and closed the distance between them.

"Oh, God, I want you so much," Ezra mumbled, just before Chris took his lips in a searing kiss.

Pulling back Chris peppered kisses all over Ezra's face, across his jaw, nibbled on his ears, down one side of his neck then along it's base, up the other side, and repeated the whole process. He loved the taste and feel of Ezra's skin against his tongue. And wanted more. Wanted all of him.

Chris moaned into Ezra's ear as he felt those nimble fingers grab his ass. He shuddered as those same fingers worked their way into his shirt and touched his back. With a growl Chris pushed him back a little then swept Ezra up in his arms and carried him into the bedroom. Laying him on the bed Chris crawled up on him pressing him deeper into the mattress.

"Someone's over dressed," Ezra panted as he tugged on his shirt before undoing his jeans.

Chris gasped as a hand slipped inside his jeans and wrapped around him with exquisite tenderness. He groaned in regret as the hand was removed. Then eased back as those hands began pushing his jeans down. Getting to his feet Chris quickly kicked off his boots then the rest of clothes. Crawling back on the bed he straddled Ezra's hips and hissed as their naked flesh touched for the first time.

Unable to resist the lure of Ezra's skin Chris skimmed his hands up stroking the smooth skin and firm muscle, and loved feeling the ripples and twitches his touch generated. Chris bit his lip as Ezra's hands began a journey of their own, starting at his knees and traveling up Chris's thighs until one hand once again wrapped around his weeping flesh.

Arching into the touch Chris then leaned over and groaned into Ezra's mouth as mouth those incredible fingers teased his overheated flesh. A thumb smoothed over the tip and nearly sent him over the edge.

"Ezra," Chris moaned and stilled that maddening hand, but didn't remove it. "I want to come in you . . . not your hand."

"Later," Ezra told him and rolled them over.

"No, now . . ."

"No, later. After I've come deep within you," Ezra persisted, reaching for the lube.

Chris frowned as he realized that this was the third time Ezra said 'he' was taking 'him'. He'd never allowed another man to have that kind of control over him and wasn't sure if he could let Ezra have it either. "Ezra . . ."

"Don't worry, Chris," the Southerner whispered. "I'd never hurt you."

"I k..know," Chris's breath hitched as Ezra began to tease his opening. "It's j..just t..that I've n..never . . ."

Ezra stilled, but didn't remove his fingers. "Do you want me to stop? It's up to you, cowboy. Tell me what you want."

"Tell me what you want," Chris told him.

"I . . . I want to make you happy. Make you soar. Make you forget everything . . . except me," he whispered. "I need to feel you all around me. To feel your heartbeat from the inside," Ezra said, leaning closer to give him a sweet kiss. "I need to know you trust me in all ways. But specially this way."

Chris wanted that to. Very much. Wanted to give the same thing to Ezra. Chris found he wanted someone else to be in control, at least for a little while. And could think of no one he trust more than Ezra. So instead of answering verbally Chris spread his legs offering his lover no resistance.

"Just relax," Ezra told him as his fingers grew bolder and pushed into Chris's body.

Chris bit his lip at the sensations rippling through him at the touch of those fingers. He whimpered as the fingers stretching him were removed but had no time to miss them as they were replaced with the tip of Ezra's hard shaft. And he tensed at the invasion of his body.

"Shhh. Just relax," Ezra whispered over and over again as he stilled his body. Then began to gently caress Chris's chest in a smoothing way working his way down to Chris's semi-hard erection.

As Chris bucked into the hand caressing him he felt Ezra completely fill him and felt his breath catch at the pulsing heat encased within him. He gasped and clutched at Ezra's shoulders as Ezra shifted just a little and brushed against something deep within him. "What was that?"

"That my . . . handsome cowboy . . . is your prostate gland . . ."

"Touch it again," he pleaded.

"Oh, I shall," Ezra promised him. "I shall."

Chris found that giving Ezra control of his body was easier than he thought and met Ezra thrust for thrust. Opening himself up in a way that he hadn't since his marriage.

"Mine," Ezra growled just before biting him on the side of the neck claiming Chris as his own leaving a dark bruise behind.

"Yes," he gasped as he tried getting closer to the man who had become his world.

"Say it."

"I'm yours," Chris panted, looking deeply Ezra's eyes he saw that the same was true for him. "You say it."

"I'm yours."

Those words had him losing his hard fought for control and had Chris crying out Ezra's name as his organism tore through him, coating both their chests. With Ezra quickly following, then collapsing onto him.

Chris's last coherent thought, just before slipping into a deep sleep was that he could never remember feeling so one with another. Not even Sarah. At least, not to this extent.

~*~*~*~

Ezra forced his eyes opened and smiled as he relived what him and Chris had shared. Raising his head from the firm chest it was pillowed on Ezra looked into his lover's sleeping face and felt his smile grow into a grin. After pressing a gentle kiss into Chris's chest Ezra eased up and away from his lover, removed the condom, and got to his feet.

Returning from the bathroom Ezra stood beside the bed looking his fill of this sleep-tousled handsome man in his bed.

"Don't just stand there," a gruff voice said, "come back to bed."

"How long have you been awake?" Ezra asked with a grin.

"Since the second you left the bed."

Before Ezra had a chance to reply Chris sprung to his knees, grabbed him by the waist, threw him on the bed, and stretched out on top of him. Ezra rose to meet those lips as they descended and rolled them over so that he now lay on top. Tearing his lips away Ezra pressed open mouth kisses across Chris's chest making the older man moan in pleasure.

He gasped as he suddenly found himself pressed into the mattress with a panting and very much aroused Chris Larabee above him.

"I'm taking you this time," he growled into his ear, making Ezra shiver. "I'm going to bury myself deep within you and feel your heartbeat from the inside. Want to hear you scream my name."

Never one to give up so easy Ezra skimmed his hands down Chris's back to cup his ass and thrust a leg between Chris's legs. As his hands traveled back up Chris's side they touch a sensitive spot close to his ribs that had Chris sucking in a breath.

"Oh, is my cowboy ticklish," Ezra teased.

Chris shook his head, no, and tried to grab his hands, but Ezra was faster and dug his fingers into Chris's side making the older man squill with laughter. "Stop," he panted in between laughs.

Looking into those laughing blue-green eyes had the breath catching in Ezra's throat. Stilling his fingers he took Chris's face into this hands and gave him a fierce kiss. Trying . . . wanting to taste as much of him as he could.

"C h r i s," he moaned into his mouth as Chris began to rub and rock against him.

"Say it again," Chris told him.

It took Ezra a couple of seconds to realize what he wanted him to say. This was the first time Ezra had called him Chris. At least to his face. Always before it's been Mr. Larabee or cowboy.

"Chris," he repeated in a passion rough voice causing Chris to shiver in reaction. Keeping their eyes opened they shared a kiss, each allowing the other to see the emotions they would otherwise shield from public view. Then it was Ezra's turn to shiver as kisses were scattered across his neck before those lips latched onto one of his nipples bring it painfully to life before doing the same to the other.

The lips continued south and caused Ezra to arch as they attacked his navel.

"Still think I don't know anything about foreplay?" Chris asked just before taking him into his mouth.

"I . . . I . . . take . . . it . . . oh! . . . all . . . back," Ezra panted and buried his fingers in those golden locks. He bit his lip as a slick finger breeched his opening. One soon became two, then three were used to stretch and prepare him.

"Now," he pleated. "Now, Chris."

Chris released him and pressed a kiss into the palm of his hand then twined their fingers together and slowly sinfully entered him. "Okay?" he panted and trembled with the effort of allowing him time to adjust.

"Y e s," Ezra moaned. "Oh, yes!"

They quickly found a rhythm and their sweat glistening bodies were soon moving as one. Striving to get closer. Deeper. Bucking and twisting they worked to bring their bodies the completion it craved.

Ezra lost it as Chris bit him on the neck and growled, "Mine." The spasms of his body had Chris quickly following him.

He welcomed the weight that pressed into him and wrapped his free hand around Chris's heaving shoulders. Raising their still joined hands, Ezra kissed the back of Chris's then followed his cowboy lover into a deep sleep.

~*~*~*~

Midnight found the two lovers sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich and sharing heated looks. Each sporting the other's brand.

Chris felt his body spring back to life as he watched Ezra lick some muster off his finger.

"Mmm, this is really good," Ezra teased him. "Want a taste," he offered.

"I don't like muster," he told him. Then grinned at the look of mock outrage on his lover's face.

"Don't like muster!" Ezra shook his head. "Well, now I just don't about someone not liking muster. Why that's just . . .just Un-American. When's the last time you tried it?"

Chris just shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Then you must try it again. Just a little." The Southerner offered Chris his finger with just a dab of muster on it.

Taking Ezra's hand in his Chris brought it to his mouth and wrapped his tongue around the offered finger and thoroughly cleaned it.

"How'd it taste?"

"Tart . . ."

"How dare you call me a tart!"

Chris laughed out loud at that and shook his head at him. "Not you. The muster."

Ezra smiled at him. "So you don't like tarts, then cowboy?"

"Only Southerner ones with green eyes and a gold tooth," he told him with a wide grin. "And I really don't like being called cowboy," Chris went on to say. "However, I do like the way it sounds on the silky voice of yours. So I'll let you do it . . ."

"You want to do it on the kitchen table!" Ezra cried. "We eat on this table, cowboy!"

Once again Chris laughed. "You like flirting with danger, don't you?"

"No, my cowboy," the Southerner purred, crawling onto the table and into Chris's lap. "I like flirting with you."

In order to have more room Chris pushed his chair away from the table and glided his hands up Ezra's back, pressing him even closer. He couldn't help, but twitch as Ezra once again found his tickle spot. But he didn't fuss or tell him to stop. He hadn't laughed so much in years and welcomed the feel of Ezra's hands on his skin. Even if his lover meant to tickle him.

This is going to be so much fun, he silently told himself. Or so he thought until he heard Ezra question him.

"What's going to be fun?"

Chris gave serious thought to not answering, but decided to be honest. He didn't want there to be any secrets between them. So after pressing an open mouth kiss to the side of Ezra's slender neck, he softly said, "Loving you."

"I love you, Chris Larabee," Ezra whispered. "And we're going to have a lot of fun together. Starting now," he said, then bit him on the ear and got to his feet.

"Ezra . . ."

"The first one in the bedroom gets to top next!" he cried and took off running.

Chris's long legs quickly closed the distance between them. Grabbing Ezra by the waist he spun him around and into the couch causing the younger man to drape himself over the back to keep his balance. And Chris to come to a stop at the enticing picture Ezra made with his ass up in the air.

Just as Ezra straightened up Chris pushed him back down and thrust his groin against him then laid across Ezra's back said, "Let's just make love . . ." The rest of what he was going to say was cut off as he found himself flying over Ezra's back and landing on the couch.

"Hey! A simple no would have been fine!" He told a laughing Ezra.

"I will not make love draped over the back of a couch!"

"Oh, yes you will!" Chris told him as he got to his feet and headed for their room. He had that picture of Ezra in his mind now and knew he wouldn't be able to let it go until they did.

"Okay, but not today," Ezra said with a smile and sheepish look on his face. "Chris wait . . ."

"What?"

"Nothing," he laughed and went to dart into the bedroom only to be stopped by Chris. "Hey! That's cheating!"

"All fair in love and war!" Chris laughed. Turned them around and backed them into the bedroom. Then pushed Ezra onto the bed, crawled on top on him, silenced any further protests with a mind blowing kiss, and said in a gruff voice, "Let the fun begin."

Continues in Monday, Monday