Part 1

The plane dipped in its gradual descent.  Stomachs dropped with old familiarity as bodies were pressed slightly forward.  Most passengers never recognized or acknowledged the minute changes in pressure and movement.  They continued their conversations, finished small ice laden drinks and pushed food wrappers and plastic utensils out of the way.  The plane started its slow descent into Denver.

One man did recognize the near imperceptible changes.  Noticed them and groaned.  A swollen purple black eye refused to open completely.  Cut, puffy, lips threaten to split under the inconsistent contact with the tip of his curious tongue.  Ribs and muscles complained with even the slightest flexion or extension.  Shifting one's position in the airplane seat had become monumental and painful.

His discomfort did not go unnoticed by the Stewardess.  At the sudden paling features, and resigned closing of one eye, the Stewardess stepped forward cautiously and squatted beside the passenger's seat.  He occupied the window seat in a row by himself.  He had the flight crew to thank for that little courtesy. 

"Sir? Are you alright?" 

He opened his one cooperative eye.  Not that it too had not received some damage but at least it opened and focused properly.  The light green iris had stood out against solid red sclera. 

Was he alright?  No...not alright.  Alright would indicate that physically he could move about with out undue discomfort or pain....Alright would indicate that perhaps he looked forward to landing in Denver and facing the Piper so to speak. Alright would some how entail a miraculous change in his mindset.

No Alright did not seem to apply to him, not now, not for a while...fourteen days at least.  Today consisted of multiple delays, a mind numbing wait at the Terminal Gate with prying eyes and blatant stares, sitting for over an hour on the plane due to electrical complications, the deck remained stacked against him for too long.  Even the weather conspired against him.  The cold drizzle that saturated the area managed to envelope him settling heavily on his shoulders. 

Yet these things only paled in comparison to the events that had brought him to this numbered seat, identical to the hundred that surrounded him.  Events that had lead him fourteen days ago to hastily take this undercover assignment.  A rash decision had been made with undue haste, had led to a Thanksgiving hospital stay with no visitors.  No ones fault perse but his own.  He had told no one of his incarceration into the hands of medical fiends...but then who would he tell?

He smiled slightly, folding a swollen cheek and losing a dimple within the bruised damage.  The bottom lip split on the inside with a short sharp pain.  Blood tinged his tongue. The coppery taste, though familiar, increased the nauseous unease that threatened his stomach.

 "Yes, I'm fine." The southern drawl sounded roughened, tired.  Perhaps as worn and beaten as the man who spoke them. 

Fine...Yes, he was fine...perhaps even better should the plane just continue on its way and miss Denver altogether.  That, however, would not cure or fill the hollow feeling that threatened to consume him.  He had run enough in his life time to know that no matter how far the distance, no matter the barriers put in place, nothing could fill the hollowness that came with disappointment, shame and perhaps knowing one had been foolish.  No distance, or  hiding spot, would be enough. It would only take that one stray thought,  one misguided remembrance to send one's gut crashing to their feet. Averse memories and sensations would leap acutely to the fore front, unbidden and unwanted. The pain would flair from there. The self loathing and self disgust always traveled hand and hand and seemed forever tethered to unpredictable memories.  Nothing but a failing memory could protect the inflicted.

Skipping over Denver would not solve or in any way dissolve or dilute the emptiness that swamped him from the inside. 

The Stewardess allowed a sad, understanding smile to crease her face. There was nothing she could do for him...nothing any of them could do for the passenger, but perhaps hope the landing would go smoothly.  Six hours late for their scheduled arrival...it was the least they could do. 

Pain medication sat untouched in his bag in the overhead bin.  He still had to drive home.  The very thought had him closing his eyes.  A standard, high, powered beast deserved better handling and soft touches of a healthy torso and legs...not the harsh stutter movements of one too damaged to appreciate the car's gift.  The pain medication would have to wait.  Perhaps once home, he could dull the sharp incessant twinges of damaged muscles as well as dull the ache that settled so profoundly in his heart. 

Six hours earlier

Chris Larabee nodded his head and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He held his cell phone tight to his ear.  The others watched him curiously. 

Buck and JD paused in their wrestling match for Ultimate Domination of the space between their desks. 

Vin stopped shooting paper 'football's into the waste basket that sat on Standish's empty chair behind the desk across from Vin's.  The plastic covered computer monitor on the Undercover agent's desk proved to be a challenging obstacle. 

Josiah put his herbal tea down and occupied his hands with his small pocket knife instead.  The sudden mood swing in Larabee prevented the Profiler from enjoying his drink. 

Jackson gazed up from his computer terminal peering around the photo of him and Rain on the last camping trip. His fingers paused over the key board waiting. Chris just received some obviously bad news.

"He hurt bad?"  The resigned tone of Larabee's voice crashed the sudden immobility of the others.

Again he nodded.  Buck pushed JD back into his seat.  Vin put his pencil down and stared at Larabee who leaned against the doorway of his office.

Josiah sighed almost as tiredly as Chris.

Jackson felt his heart race.  Not again.  He saved his work knowing that in the melee that was sure to ensue he would forget to do so later.

"We'll take care of it,"  Chris nodded again sighing, "Thanks Pete....I'll let you know."  Larabee pulled his cell phone from his ear and shut it off. 

Larabee gazed up at his team.  It did not surprise him that he had garnered their attention.  He surveyed them one by one.  Reading their own frowns of worry and concern.   JD came across the easiest, next to Buck.  Wilmington, only because Chris had known him longest.  The two were simply worried and they showed it uncaring who knew.  Buck hid under a wiry grin but his eyes hardened with defenses up and aggression just at bay.  Josiah kept his face 'quiet' but concern easily discernable.  Nathan had the look of a medic ready to sprint off to the next three alarm blaze.  Vin fiddled with his pencil gazing up at Chris with expectation.  No sense expending undue energy or concern until things were made clear.

"Vin, I want you at the airport to drive Ezra home,"  Larabee swung his gaze to the Ladies Man, "Buck you drive him over...plane should be landing any time."

"Sure,"  Buck stood from his desk, "you gonna tell us what happened?"

"Bust went sour."  Chris held his hand up silencing the sudden influx of inquiries. "No guns were pulled just a brawl."  Larabee pocketed the phone and met Jackson's gaze, " O'Donahue said nothing's broke just sore...doesn't think Ezra should be wrestling with a standard."

Buck pushed himself to his feet gathering his coat, "Lets go Junior,"  Wilmington tossed Tanner's ratty leather fringed excuse of a coat to the sharpshooter.  The thing really did have an odor about it all its own.

"Brother Vin?"  Josiah's soft voice forced the duo to pause.  Buck and Tanner both turned and faced the profiler, "see if you can't convince him to join us at Inez's." 

Tanner nodded, trying to read what tumbled through Sanchez's mind.  The sharpshooter shrugged and headed down the hall.  Josiah's thoughts probably formed in parables, it wouldn't do much good to read his mind even if Vin could.

"Buck you going to make it to Inez's in time to play Fredricks?"  JD leaned back in his chair peering at his older roommate from over his shoulder.   He loved baiting Buck.

"I'll be there," Wilmington heard the elevator ding from down the hall.

"Com'on Buck," Vin's lazy drawl traveled unhurried down the corridor.

Buck started to disappear down the hall still talking, "JD, you tell Fredricks ole Buck ain't afraid of nuthin' and I'll mop the pool table with his cocky hide." 

Dunne merely nodded in disbelief.  Fredricks, the security guard at the main door, grew up in a house with a professional billiard player for a father.  A little known fact that JD discovered just a few days ago.  Discovered and kept quiet.  He would make a few dollars off of Buck tonight.  JD didn't bother hiding his smile. 

The young ATF agent checked the wall clock again.  Five minutes to five.  Buck could get Vin to the airport and be at the saloon in just under an hour barring any major traffic delays.  Yup JD planned on making a profit...just like Ezra had been coaching him. JD paused in thought.  It had been almost a month since he had really seen Ez.  Those few minutes two weeks ago really didn't count since JD hadn't a chance to talk to the man. Yesterdays, Thanksgiving dinner at Chris's house just didn't feel the same.   It felt off.

The airport buzzed with human traffic.

Vin stood leaning against the wall near Security. The gates were off limits to non ticketed persons.  The sharpshooter did not bother checking the over hanging monitors.  The flight had been delayed.  He had wandered through all the book stores, ate his fill of over priced airport food and had overflowed his quota on crowds.  Figures...damn flights been delayed for the last six hours......

The crowds had thinned out.  Then again the Denver International Airport did not seem to be the hot spot for socializing especially eleven o'clock on a Friday night. 

A scattering of people shuffled by, some shifting and hiking shoulder bags to a more comfortable position only to have the straps settle back to their original position. Others strolled by wheeling bags on self collapsing cases.  Everyone had a place to be and from the dogged pace of the late evening no one seemed to care.  A sharp contrast to the earlier crowds.  The masses between 5 and 8 pushed, shouldered and hurried their way passed their fellow man in a rush to be somewhere.  The five to eight crowd darted eyes from over hanging clocks to rotated wrists. Time seemed to be of the utmost importance.  Some travelers had practically jogged, others had walked briskly and still others had craned their heads and necks left and right searching for something in a direction opposite to where their feet had lead them.

Tanner had stood back from the area at those times.  Ezra's flight had been "Delayed".  CNN still droned on with the same news it had for the last six hours.  The entertainment news offered nothing of interest.

Now, at Eleven o'clock at night, the stores had closed with their metal cages dragged across their fronts and locked securely.  Tanner chuckled to himself, the cages gave the impression of impregnability, he wondered if the owners or makers of such equipment realized just how easily someone such as himself, hell Ezra, could have them opened and emptied.  Perhaps it was the illusion of security the people were buying and the companies offering.  Both knowing that under the work of skilled hands any lock and any security protocol lay vulnerable.  Appearances....Vin chuckled quietly to himself, as Ezra would say, Appearances were everything.  If something looked impossible then people assumed it was....The smile dipped slightly from Tanner's face, how often had he fallen into such visual games? 

The Security screeners, by nine-thirty pm, had approached Tanner and questioned him. After producing his badge, a friendly smile and easy explanation they left him alone.

With one leg crossed over the other, Tanner leaned against the wall watching the empty corridor that led to the gates.

He had phoned Chris earlier and explained the delays.  Larabee had nothing to offer but a simple OK.

Vin could hear Josiah speaking in the background but the din of Inez's saloon drowned out the questions.  Chris did not bother passing them along.

Now with nearly six hours of waiting under his belt, Tanner began to wonder what bothered Sanchez.  Perhaps it was the amount of time that had passed since they had last saw Standish.  Ezra had looked good that morning. The undercover agent had dropped by just before the others had pulled out for their camping trip.  It had surprised the rest of them. Ezra had not suppose to be back for another week.  He had sounded busy perhaps but the man thrived on working undercover.

The camping trip had been a bust.  Ezra had been lucky to have missed it.  Hell, Vin wished he could have been TDY'd for the last 2 weeks.  Though the camping trip pretty much headed South from the get go, things evened out before Thanksgiving rolled around.  They had a week to forget about their group vacation before the big feast.  And they did.  It seemed the only ones who had any real fun on the trip were Nathan and Rain...JD and Casey did ok for themselves too but young Billy Travis dogged those two all day and all night.  Tanner couldn't help but chuckle when Buck labeled Billy a walking contraceptive.  JD and Casey never had a moment alone.  Unfortunately, Mary had over heard the comment and ripped into Chris....who in his fashion...basically ignored her.  Which riled Mary even more.  So things spun helplessly out of control with Josiah laughing in the background.  Nothing worse than being trapped in a canyon with a hostile crew.  Still the fishing was good and the scenery pretty.  In fact, with all the unrest Vin had managed to spend some time in the saddle exploring the area.  Chris and Josiah tagged along to escape the constant din of the crowded camp. 

The only thing they were missing was Ezra and his normal complaints.  Hell, Vin would gladly take Ezra's belly aching about crawling insects, lack of in-door plumbing and fine restaurants any day over the hell they had endured two weeks ago.

Tanner quickly shook off the memories.  Next camping trip would only be for a short not a long weekend and the girl friends might have to stay home.  Or at least screened. 

The sharpshooter pushed himself off the wall when he noticed weary travelers dragging their bags and themselves down the once deserted corridor.

The flight had arrived.

Ezra remained seated.  The moment the plane stopped people stood as one.  Seat belts had been unclicked and discarded long before the plane reached the gate or the seat belt sign blinked off.  With the plane braked beside the gate, people hurried into action.  Bodies twisted and arms reached over head, snapping open over head bins.  Passengers grabbed for bags and coats, others stretched with thankful smiles and grateful hands when someone handed them a bag just out of reach.

Like a lumbering sea serpent slinking from cold lightless depths, the line slowly shimmied and moved its way out through the exit hatch and into the Denver International Airport.

Ezra remained seated until the Stewardess once again leaned across his row, "Sir?"  She forced a smile though the concern seemed genuine in her eyes, "we have landed." A polite but recognizable request.  'Get off the plane'.

No more delaying it.  With great difficulty and a mingling of reluctance and relief to have landed, Standish made his way down the abandoned aisle and out the door. 

The ramp angled upslope. Subtle and certainly not taxing to the average citizen.  Bruised back muscles and abused legs complained and burned with each step.  He carried no luggage.  Everything had been stowed under the plane.  Getting the luggage off the carousel would be an interesting challenge. Perhaps he could bribe a person to retrieve his bags.  It would be money well spent.

Standish emerged from the gate and scanned the area.  No one stood waiting for passengers.  Times and current events prevented such foolishness.  With a limp and a shuffled step, he followed the throng of people that seemed dwarfed in the now near abandoned airport.  Funny but the corridors and passage ways never appeared so spacious as it did now in the dead of night.

He followed the droves and headed toward the main terminal toward the escalators that would whisk him away in their own unhurried fashion to the baggage carousel.  One step closer to his apartment. 

Vin watched with rising impatience at the people that flocked passed him.  Did the damn fool take another flight?

Tanner leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed.  He watched as people strode passed him lugging their bags.  The sharpshooter couldn't help but wonder what people deemed so necessary that they needed that much luggage?

Vin began to worry when a lull hit.  After the large influx of people, a few trickled by and then nothing.  A few more appeared in small groups of threes or fours and then nothing until the next bunch. 

Tanner pulled his cell phone from his coat with the intention of phoning Larabee when a lone person trudged wearily from around the security station.

"Aw shit," the soft mumble had become lost in the vast near empty space of the main terminal.  The ex-bounty hunter took a step forward and then paused.  All thoughts of going to Inez's slid down the drain.

Standish was a mess.  A fight...dang it looked as if someone had used his face to pound nails.

The sharpshooter waited until the undercover agent was nearly upon him, " 'Ey Ez," 

The soft greeting landed on deaf ears.  Standish limped passed, his obviously one good eye on the far side of Tanner.

" 'Ey Ez,"  Vin reached out and gently latched onto the passing shoulder.

Standish stopped and gazed up.  The undercover agent turned his head enough to notice Tanner standing right beside him.

"Excuse me Mr. Tanner, I did not see you standing there,"  For a brief moment Ezra felt his mind-set improve. Recognizing someone in a sea of strangers some how uplifted dampening spirits.  Something about having someone meet you at the airport after a tiring journey just seemed to lighten the mood.  Reality, though, came crashing down quickly in its wake. No one could have known when he intended to fly back.  Mr. Tanner was here for another reason.  A niggling of hope, however, still smoldered deep inside under a stockpile of hurts.

"S'Ok Ez,"  Vin smiled half heartily, "Dang you look like shit."

"Thank you for the kind reminder,"  Ezra curiously peered around, "are one of our compatriots off on a trip somewhere?"   Why was Mr. Tanner at the airport at this time? "Mr. Larabee get called off to another meeting?"  Ezra didn't see anyone else.

Vin shook his head. Perhaps Standish got hit harder on the head than it looked.

Puzzled, Ezra furrowed his brow, "Yes, well, it was nice seeing you Mr. Tanner,"  Standish side stepped Vin and slowly made his way toward the ever running escalators.  He still had baggage to claim after all...and if he were too late there would be no one around he could influence to retrieve his luggage for him.

"Whoa, Ez wait up,"  The tracker took a few normal strides and closed the gape.  What the hell?

"How can I help you Mr. Tanner?"  Ezra didn't mean to come across crass or impatient but everything hurt, exhaustion dragged on him and he still had a ways to go before reaching his destination.  Besides to learn that Vin was here to see off one of the others or perhaps meet someone else was an extra blow Ezra did not want to deal with at the moment. 

"Nothin' pard'," Vin stared at the undercover agent curiously.  What had Josiah been afraid of?  Damn him and his round about meandering convoluted ways.  Dang it, if you know something ya should jist come out and say it. 

"Very well,"  Ezra slid his arm once again out of Vin's grasp and headed for the still moving escalators. 

"Ez ya idiot,"  Tanner quickly stepped beside Standish and matched his haltering pace, "I'm here to get you,"  The light chuckle thinly veiled the concern in the voice.

"Whatever for?"  Someone came to meet him?...meet him...waited six hours to drive him home...wasted a Friday night at an airport just to greet him?  Of all the times he had traveled in his life, none had ever shown the patience or tenacity of his team mate.  No one had ever waited.  A crooked smile threatened to split a lip. 

" O'Donahue called this afternoon thought it'd be best if someone met ya and got you home,"  Tanner stared at Standish starting at his shoes and traveling up to the bruised features, "he had it right...yer a mess."

"He spoke with Mr. Larabee?"  a tinge of worry laced the words.  Ahh perhaps the reprimand....An escort to ensure that he did not run out on his responsibilities.  Things began to make sense.  The familiar knot if dread settled heavily in his gut.

"Yeah,"  Vin stepped a side and allowed Standish to step onto the escalator.   The handrails suddenly seemed like a very good idea.  Ezra's sense of balance suffered under the moving steps.  The agent hid it well enough by leaning slightly against the rail.  Tanner didn't miss it.

Ezra wanted nothing more than to ask what else O'Donahue had to say but feared to tip his hand or appear concerned.  The wreck of a bust was not his, Ezra Standish's, fault but it certainly wouldn't be above others to try and pin it on him...especially with him being from out of town.  No back up so to speak.

"He didn't say much, jist thought you'd need a ride,"  Tanner could almost see the tension waving off the man standing with his back to him.  Damn escalators ran too slow.

They reached the ground floor and the baggage carousel.  They had the dubious honor of being the only two left.  Vin simply reached down and snatched the two remaining bags.  Ezra was grudgingly thankful for the help.

The two walked quietly toward the car.  The Jag sat under the direct scrutiny of a security camera.  Normally, Ezra would never have taken the Jag and parked it for any amount of time in a public facility but this time no one had been around to drive him.

"Ya keys?" Vin held out his hand and patiently waited as Ezra paused a few yards from the car and gingerly dug through his pants pocket. 

The last time Vin had seen Ezra was two weeks ago and only briefly.  The time before that nearly three weeks.  Chris had TDY'd him initially over to Arizona. He had come back unexpectedly early.  In fact, Vin had nearly died when Ezra had pulled up in the Jag at Larabee's.  The others were all meeting there that morning for the trip.  Hell, it wasn't even seven in the morning and everyone had made it.  Trucks had been stacked with gear and supplies, horses stood loaded and the trailer tack rooms were bursting at the seams.  Chris had been in the process of herding people into respective vehicles when the Jag shot up the dirt drive and out jumped Ezra.

Everyone had kind of paused.  Thank God he was dressed in his four figure suit.  No one had expected him back. 

Even now Vin could still feel the tightness in his gut when Ezra stepped out of that car all smiles and full of shit.  When Tanner had laid eyes on that suit he nearly whooped for joy. 

The trucks were loaded to capacity.  Billy was gonna be ridin' Chaucer. Chris and Buck had squirreled away just enough food supplies to last them a few days.  Though there always seemed to be room for one more...that simple dictate did not hold true for this particular excursion.  It had been a huge group and no more spare animals.

Chris must have been thinking the same thing because he had shot Vin a curious worried expression too.  Especially when Billy had come tearing around the truck spotted Ezra and had started crying.  He had kept crying that 'Chris promised I could ride my own horse....I don't wanna ride double..."  Mary had come around the truck and stopped dead in her tracks.  She had hugged Billy and had led him around the trucks promising him not to worry things would work out.

And they had.  Ezra's phone must have rung cuz suddenly he had it in his hand and flipped open and talking on it.  He had turned his back to them and had put his hand over his ear as if to drown out the rough gurgling sounds of rumbling diesel engines.  Pretty soon he had been nodding his head and agreeing to something.  Then the phone had been snapped shut and he was facing the group with his shit eating grin and out stretched hand.  He had wished them luck on their trip but had to go....another call out. 

He had waved from the open window as he peeled down the driveway spitting dust. 

Josiah had leaned against the back of one of the trailers with his eyes closed as if something had pained him.

Billy had stopped crying and people scrambled into trucks.  Things just had a way of working out. 

~~~~~

Vin shook off the memories and hefted Standish's shoulder bag holding out his hand expectantly.  The quiet jingle of keys and their cool touch in his outstretched palm had him smiling.  He loved to drive the Jag. 

With a quick push of a button, the doors unlocked, lights flashed and tones sounded. 

Ezra continued toward the passenger door swallowing two pain meds.  With a chauffer, he didn't need to worry about driving.

Vin stopped at the trunk and hit the key code.  The trunk unlatched and sprang upward just a few inches.  Tanner dropped one bag to free his hand and lifted the trunk door completely.

He dropped the second bag. Then he closed his eyes mouthing an 'Oh no.'.

The nearly full trunk held Standish's camping gear. 

Tanner leaned against the raised door and fingered through the equipment. Boots, rough coat, saddle bags packed with a change of clothes on top, bed roll and hat. 

Shit...shit...shit...

Tanner pushed and shoved the bags into the trunk and slammed it closed.  He stared at the man who leaned tiredly against the passenger window. 

He don't even remember its in there....

Tanner wove the Jag through quiet streets.  He continued to take surreptitious glances at the person beside him.  Standish had dozed off before they had even cleared airport property. 

Damn.

"Come on Ez," Tanner switched the ignition off cutting short the purr of the Jag's engine.  The sharpshooter opened the door and started out of the car.  "'Ey Ez we're home."

The undercover agent gingerly sat up and gazed about the car and surrounding area with slight bewilderment.  His gaze landed on the Texan standing outside the driver's door, peering in at him.

"My apologies Mr. Tanner," Ezra gently un-clicked his seat belt not having remembered even putting it on at the airport, "I can drive you home."

"Forget it Ez," Tanner shut his door muffling his chuckle and headed for the trunk.

Standish sighed and eased himself from the car.  The only detractor the Jag had was how low it hugged the ground.  Pulling and pushing one to their feet could prove to be monumental in a condition such as his. 

The crisp night bit at his bruises but felt strangely welcomed.   He shuffled toward his apartment.

When and how Tanner passed  him in the hall way or even had the door unlocked, alarm disarmed and bags dropped in the foyer, before he even reached the door, had Standish slightly baffled.   Ezra stepped into the well lit apartment and squinted. 

Gawd his head hurt.  The apartment held the stagnant chill of disuse.  Leather furniture would take a moment to warm up enough to become comfortable.  Counter tops and metal fixtures held a bite all their own. The air even had moldy coldness about it.

Standish ignored it.  He shuffled out of his coat leaving it to drape haphazardly over an arm chair.  He paused and squinted at the Texan wondering when the man would go home. 

Tanner found the thermostat and cranked the heat to just above 60 degrees.  The hum of warm air could be heard spilling into the room in an attempt to beat back the raw chill.

The Texan slid into the kitchen and cursed himself for removing his boots at the door.  The cut stone of Standish's modern kitchen gripped his feet with calf cramping intensity.  Damn it was cold in here. 

"Ya hungry?"  Tanner eyed the contents of the refrigerator.  He reached in and shuffled things aside, shook his head and closed the door.

The inarticulate grunt had a negative connotation.  The undercover agent shuffled passed and disappeared into his room.  All he wanted to do was lie down.

"Don't worry Ez, I'll take care of your bags," Tanner's light sarcastic comment earned him a slightly raised one finger salute. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After finding nothing suitable to eat, the Sharpshooter had drug the two shoulder bags down the opposite hall to the washer and dryer.  Ezra didn't look like he would be wanting to do laundry anytime soon.  With out preamble, Vin had unzipped the first bag and simply dumped the contents into the washer. 

He never understood the need to separate whites from Darks.  It was all subjective anyhow.  When he shook the second bag upside down, carelessly stuffed papers fell into the washer.  Tanner retrieved them, finished with the second bag and then dumped a few handfuls of detergent into the washer.  He pushed the clothes down some, so the lid would shut cleanly and then started the washer.   The measuring cup was no where to be found. 

The Texan walked back into the living room with the papers. 

He dropped them on the counter, found a frying pan and had every intention of making an omelet.   His fourth trip through the refrigerator confirmed his first few forays. 

Damn.

The Texan picked up the papers and tentatively started to read.  Discharge papers....from Salem Community Hospital.

What the hell?

He checked the typed date on the upper Left corner , conferred with the Far side Calendar Buck and JD had bought and subsequently hung on Ezra's refrigerator and groaned. 

Shit.

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