Tempest

By: Helen Adams

Written for Kim MacBearly, with wishes for a very happy birthday! She requested an ATF story featuring Ezra, Vin, some h/c and a bit of nasty weather. (All the usual disclaimers apply. Not mine, never have been, no money being made!)

Moved to Blackraptor November 2009

"Hey, guys. Guess who just became an uncle?"

"Well, judging by the unusually pleased expression upon your face and the fact that your youngest sister was expecting a special delivery any day now, I would say that you did, Mr. Larabee," teased Ezra, rising from his chair to shake his supervisor’s hand. "Congratulations."

The other five members of Team Seven had likewise jumped up from their desks and hurried over to offer handshakes, backslaps and words of appreciation.

"Boy or girl?" Buck asked, his grin wide enough to suggest that it was he who had just received the happy news.

"Boy," Chris said proudly. "7 pounds, 7 ounces, and they’ve decided to call him Matthew Christopher, after his two uncles."

Josiah nodded his approval. "A fine name. And his birth-weight suggests that he just might be a lucky young man. Seven has certainly proven to be a good number for you!"

Nods of agreement, renewed congratulations and offers of drinks flew from the assembled men and Chris, not usually one to enjoy the limelight, absorbed their comments with a smug expression. Suddenly, his grin faded into a look of consternation as he looked over at Vin and exclaimed, "Damn!"

Puzzled, Vin replied, "What?"

"I promised Carrie I’d fly out tomorrow morning to see the baby. I forgot that you and I were supposed to go on that fishing trip this weekend."

Vin shrugged. "So, just call her back and tell her you already got plans. Ain’t like you’ll never have another chance to see the kid. They’re all pretty ugly at this stage anyhow."

For a moment, dead silence filled the office as everyone gaped in disbelief over the callous statement. Then a sparkle of mischief filled Vin’s blue eyes. Pointing his fingers in the shape of a gun he pantomimed a shot at Chris and said, "Gotcha."

Roars of laughter filled the room as Chris threw a mock punch at Vin’s jaw. "Damn, Tanner. Why the hell do I put up with you?"

"Prob’ly because I do the same for you," he said, laughing as he added, "Don’t worry about it, Cowboy. Just have a good flight, take a few pictures and drive us all crazy gloatin’ about how great your new nephew is when you come back next week."

Chris grinned. "Thanks, I’ll do that. So, what about you? Still planning on going up to the lake?"

Vin shrugged. "Might as well. Cabin’s already paid up and it’s too late to get the money back. Reckon it won’t kill me to go alone." He glanced around hopefully at the rest of the men. "Unless one of you boys wants to claim the extra bunk."

"I would, but I’m taking Casey to a concert this weekend," JD said reluctantly. "She’d kill me if I backed out of it now."

Buck laughed. "She’d have a right. No woman wants to hear that her boyfriend would rather spend the weekend catching fish with a buddy than cuddling with her. That’s why I’m staying around home this weekend myself. Got two pretty ladies who’ll be mighty put out if they lose their tickets to ride on the Wilmington love-train."

At these words, Nathan promptly whipped out a bottle of antacids and shook it inquiringly at the others. "Learned to keep these handy around you," he offered when JD, Vin and Josiah each held out his hand to accept a tablet, grinning when Buck gave all of them dirty looks.

"You just don’t appreciate true talent," Buck huffed. Then his injured expression turned into a lascivious grin. "Luckily, the ladies don’t have that problem."

"Don’t need a lot of ladies when you’ve found the right one," Nathan shot back, hitching his eyebrows. "Me and Rain are heading out tomorrow for a little weekend activity of our own, if you know what I mean."

Josiah pretended to ponder this. "Heading over see that new museum exhibit on 19^th century medicine?"

Everyone broke into laughter when Nathan suddenly looked very guilty.

"Mister Jackson, perhaps now you will understand why I tell you that I have no need, whatsoever, to cheat when playing poker against you," Ezra chortled. "You cannot hold a bluff to save your soul."

"And speaking of saving souls, I’m afraid I’m out on the fishing trip too," Josiah apologized. "It’s my turn to fill in as guest-speaker at the Sisters of Mercy mission this weekend."

Vin waved a hand dismissively. "Don’t worry about it. I didn’t really expect you all to change your plans at the last minute. Just figured I’d check. Suppose you got things to do too, huh, Ezra?"

"I’m afraid so. Besides, the great outdoors are really not my milieu," he said. "I’m sure you’ll have a better time without me there. I know I’ll have a better time without me there."

The others chuckled again and Vin smiled. "Reckon so. Well, maybe next time."

Ezra woke with a gasp, sitting upright in bed and groping for the clock on the bedside table. He turned it towards him to see the bright electronic readout. Just after four o’clock in the morning.

With a relieved groan, he flopped back against his pillows, rubbing his face in the darkened room. It had been a dream. No one was laughing at him, or deriding him, or shunning his presence in their lives. On the contrary, most of the time everyone went out of their way to include him.

Thinking back, he frowned deeply. Was that why this dream disturbed him so? None of the men he worked with had ever ignored him in such a fashion, but a part of him kept thinking that it was only a matter of time until they did. Over the last few months since he had joined their ranks, every member of Team Seven had urged him to join them in some social activity but he had always manufactured excuses not to go along, some of them downright flimsy. His refusals had only seemed to make the others more persistent in their efforts to include him, which perversely had made him all the more determined to avoid their company.

"So whose fault will it be if they do one day give up on me?" he asked the darkness.

The answering silence felt accusing, readily supplying the answer to his question. After all, a man’s patience only went so far and he had certainly pushed the limits with those six. Other than the occasional poker game or evening spent sipping drinks at The Saloon after a hard day, he more or less avoided them all. It had just seemed like a good idea initially. If he avoided becoming friends with those he worked with, then one day if something happened and he was forced to leave the team, it would hurt far less than it had when he’d been drummed out of the Atlanta FBI.

"Perfectly logical, right?" he muttered, then sighed deeply. Certainly it had been, but contrary to all plans and expectations he had come to count all six of his new coworkers as friends; perhaps the best he’d ever had, and the thought of losing the casual camaraderie of those six men did hurt.

Was it too late to let them know? And how could he go about doing it? It wasn’t as though he could breeze into the office on Monday and start flinging suggestions for communal activity about like confetti. Nor could he just give in to the peculiar urge he’d had lately to accept all of the offers extended to him. No, that would certainly raise some questions. Perhaps he could just begin with one or two invitations, build up his stamina, and eventually ingratiate himself fully with the others.

A niggle of worry bit at Ezra. What if the dream was really his subconscious mind trying to tell him that it was already too late? What if he had finally run out of second chances?

No…there was still at least one opportunity. Vin Tanner had invited him to go fishing this weekend, hadn’t he? Perhaps that would be a good place to begin.

Flinging the covers back, Ezra jumped out of bed and switched on the light. Squinting against the sudden brightness, he moved to the dresser and grabbed his cellular phone. His hand trembled slightly as he dialed the number and waited for Vin to pick up.

"It’s four thirty in the morning on a Saturday, you idiot," he muttered to himself after the fourth unanswered ring. "He’s probably still asleep. Besides, it’s really a bit late to be inviting yourself along on his---"

He cut himself off as the line picked up and a surprisingly alert voice said, "Ezra? Somethin’ wrong?"

For a moment, Ezra did not respond, wondering how Vin had managed to psychically divine his identity. Then his brain kicked into gear. Vin had caller I.D. on his phone.

"Oh, Mr. Tanner, you’re home," he said, mentally cringing at the sheer obviousness of his statement. "Um, no, nothing’s wrong. I just---" He winced. Damn it, why was he so flustered?

Sounding more concerned, Vin asked, "Has something happened?"

Ezra sighed. This was ridiculous. "No, I’m sorry to call you at such an inconvenient hour. This was an absurd idea. Forget I bothered you."

He started to disconnect but was stopped by Vin’s shout of, "Wait! Ezra, don’t hang up. What’s going on?"

Before he could think of a reason not to, Ezra heard himself blurt, "Do you still want me to come to the fishing cabin with you?"

Silence filled the line and Ezra’s heart sank, sure that the other man was struggling to come up with a polite excuse to rescind the invitation. Then, unexpectedly, Tanner laughed, sounding absolutely delighted as he said, "You really mean it? You want to come?"

"I, well, yes if you’re sure you don’t mind."

"Course I don’t! You’re right welcome," Vin told him. "I was just getting my stuff together and wishing I had some company. You got any supplies or should I just pack enough for two?"

Astonished, Ezra replied, "Well, I must admit that I hadn't really thought this through fully. Water, spare blankets, and snacks I can manage. I’m afraid I don’t own a sleeping bag or fishing gear."

"I’ll grab my spares for you, then," Vin said easily. "What kinda snacks?"

Ezra thought for a moment. "I’ve got fresh fruit, a leftover bag of mini pretzels courtesy of JD’s plant-watering presence the last time I was undercover, and an entire tin of chocolate chip cookies."

"Mrs. Prescott?"

"Naturally," he said, laughing at Vin’s eager tone. Mrs. Prescott was Ezra’s neighbor, a kindly old woman who insisted that he was too thin and was constantly foisting baked goods on him in an attempt to fatten him up. Most of her goodies ended up in the break room at work and, as a result, she had become a great favorite of Vin Tanner.

"Hell, that’s worth the price of a few campin’ supplies right there. You do most of the cookin’ and I’ll call us even!"

Ezra found himself grinning like a little boy. "Having sampled the burnt offerings you try to pass off as edibles, Mr. Tanner, I believe I can agree to that condition in self-defense."

Completely unfazed by this insult, Vin chuckled. "Well, all right then, it’s a deal. I’ll swing by and pick you up in about a half-hour. That okay?"

"Make it forty-five minutes. I may have lost my sanity to do this, but I’m still sensible enough to insist on one last hot shower before I become one with the wilderness."

Vin laughed again. "Okay, I’ll see ya then. Pack yourself a couple changes of clothes and be sure to wear your jeans, boots if you got any, and comfortable shirts you can stay warm in without worrying about getting dirty. None of that designer shit, okay?"

Ezra sighed. Vin really did know him well. "Is it too late to rethink this?"

The other man snorted. "Yep. I ain’t letting you get away now, specially after you promised me cookies! See ya soon." Then he added simply, "Thanks, Ezra," before disconnecting the call.

Ezra smiled at the brightly lit phone display. "No, my friend. Thank you."

Feeling strangely excited about the upcoming trip Ezra showered, shaved, dressed and packed up his belongings with plenty of time to spare. By the time Vin arrived he was sitting out on the front porch steps calmly sipping on a cup of steaming coffee. Brandishing his cup, he called out, "Right on time, Mr. Tanner. Would you care for some coffee before we begin?"

Vin reached behind him and pulled out an enormous thermos. "Got it covered. You all set?"

"Just let me grab my things," Ezra agreed, running inside to make sure everything was shut off before reemerging with his belongings. As he hefted a large red backpack into the back of Vin's vehicle, he smiled, wondering what the other men on his team would say if they could see him. There was nothing fancy or stylish about Ezra P. Standish today. He had dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans, hiking boots, a warm if slightly faded sweatshirt and a wool and suede letterman-style jacket so well worn that the leather in both sleeves had begun to crack and fade. It was clothing that he loved; but had never worn where there was any chance of being seen by someone he worked with. Until today.

Vin gave him a nod of approval but said nothing about his appearance as Ezra climbed into the passenger seat of his jeep. "You had breakfast?" Vin asked, as he pulled out of the driveway and hit his turn signal in preparation to pull onto the main road.

Ezra rummaged in the pocket of his jacket and pulled forth an apple. "As promised on the phone, fresh fruit."

"Gonna need something a little more substantial than that," Vin scoffed. "It’s two hours up to the cabin, then a good half hour’s walk to the lake. That little bitty apple ain’t gonna hold you for long."

Unsure if he was being chided or if the other man was simply dropping a hint, he asked, "What do you suggest?"

"I always stop at a place called ‘The Log-Jam’ when I’m heading out this way. Plenty of food and a fair price. It’s about a half mile out past Chris’ place. He took me in there the first time we went campin’ together and told me to order up a plate of their world-famous pancakes."

"Worth the boastful reputation, I take it?"

Licking his lips in memory, Vin said, "You betcha. I could’ve eaten them things all day if I hadn’t got so stuffed. So, what do you say?"

Ezra had already decided to let Vin call the shots, in deference to his graciousness in allowing last-minute company, but he pretended to think it over. "Is this the restaurant that Buck talks about? The one he claims has cinnamon rolls as big as his head?"

Enthusiastically, Vin nodded. "That’s the place."

"Well, then, how can I refuse? Such a phenomenon must surely be witnessed in person to be believed, particularly considering the size of Mr. Wilmington’s cranium."

"I’m gonna tell him you said that."

Ezra grinned wickedly. "I’m counting on it."

~*~*~*~*~

By the time the two men left the restaurant and resumed their journey, Ezra felt as though he might never need to eat again. "Dear Lord, I cannot believe that was the half-sized serving of biscuits and gravy," he groaned. "They could have fed half the county with that order!"

Vin laughed softly. "I warned you, and it ain’t like you had to eat every bite. You could’ve stopped at any time."

"I was raised to avoid the practice of wasting food."

"Children starvin’ in Africa?"

"I believe it was China, but that was the gist of the argument, yes."

They grinned at each other. "Your mother?" Vin asked.

"Aunt," Ezra replied shortly. "You?"

"Foster mom," he replied. "Wash behind your ears, brush your teeth before bed, say your prayers and clean your plate ‘cause there are children starvin’ in Africa who’d be glad to have it."

Ezra snorted. "Do you suppose we’ll ever say things like that to our own children, should we happen to have any?"

"I ‘spect. Think it’s some kind of preprogrammed instinct that kicks in as soon as you have a kid."

"Even if the child is not yours," Ezra agreed. "This particular aunt was no blood relation and had no children of her own, but she was a virtual treasure-trove of parental mores. I can recall being told that I’d go blind by sitting too close to the television, deaf from listening to my radio at the volume I found acceptable, and that my features would become stuck in a grotesque pattern if I continued to make faces behind her back. This worried me somewhat when I was nine years old, but as I’ve managed to reach maturity without finding myself blind, deaf or disfigured, I must conclude that such advice is somewhat lacking in accuracy."

Vin snickered. "Lucky us."

For several miles they drove in companionable silence, watching the surrounding scenery grow more lush and green as the city of Denver fell behind them.

"Beautiful," Ezra said softy, watching pink and gold light fill the eastern sky. "I don’t often get to see the sunrise."

"Not even when you’re on a case and don’t have a choice about sleepin’ late?"

Ezra shook his head. "Assignments like that don’t usually allow for such luxuries as stopping to admire the majesty of nature."

"Ought to make the time now and then," Vin told him quietly. "It’s worth it."

Ezra sighed contentedly. "Perhaps I should. It’s good to do something different once in a while."

"That why you changed your mind about coming with me? You figured you felt like trying something different?"

"Something like that," he agreed. Again, silence reigned for a minute, then hesitatingly he asked, "Have you ever had a dream so strong, or so strange, that you couldn’t ignore what it was telling you?"

Vin looked at him probingly. "A time or two. Always figured those kind of dreams were the spirit talkin’ louder than the brain, and that I ought to pay attention for my own good." Smiling a little, he teased, "Your spirit dream told you to go fishin’?"

"I suppose that does sound rather ridiculous," Ezra admitted, avoiding looking the other man in the face. Spoken out loud, the admission that he had followed the urgings of a dream and hared off on a weekend of outdoor adventure seemed completely absurd.

Seeming to sense his concern, Vin tapped him on the chest with the back of his right hand. "Hell, I don’t think it’s so ridiculous. Wish more of my dreams were like that! You imagine what Chris would say if I were to call him up some morning and say, ‘Sorry, Cowboy. I can’t come in to work today ‘cause my dreams tell me the trout are bitin’. See ya next week.’?"

Ezra grinned. "You ought to try that some morning. Just be sure and give me enough advance warning to have a camera ready to catch his expression."

Vin threw his head back and laughed. "Deal!"

They reached the cabin just after eight a.m. Ezra was rather pleased with the accommodations once he got a look inside. The log cabin was worn and rough looking on the outside and he had steeled himself for a dank, insect-riddled hellhole. Instead, while rustic, the interior was pleasantly neat and cozy. It consisted of a single large room with wide bunk mattresses on either side, a small kitchen area off to one side, and a large fireplace dominating the center of one wall, before which sat a rough-hewn wooden table and a couple of worn but comfortable-looking armchairs.

"Great, huh?" Vin gloated, looking around the cabin with satisfaction as he tossed his duffel bag onto one bunk and placed Ezra’s pack on the table. "My friend Riley built this place about forty years ago. He’s too old to spend all his time out in the woods these days, so he’s taken to renting it out some weekends to friends. Keeps the place in good shape too."

"I can see that," Ezra said amiably. His amused tone caught Vin’s attention and the long-haired man raised an inquiring eyebrow, inviting him to share the joke. "Riley is that rather enormous fellow with the Yeti-like hair and beard and the propensity for indulging in chewing tobacco, correct?"

Vin laughed. "Yeah, that’s him. You only met him one time, I’m surprised you remember."

"He makes a rather lasting impression," Ezra said wryly. "Between the tobacco stains in his beard and the fact that he ignored my offered handshake in favor of nearly squeezing me to death in his anaconda-like embrace, I highly doubt I shall ever forget him. On some level, I suppose I must have remembered that it was his cabin you and Mr. Larabee had chosen for your fishing expedition this weekend."

"Reckon so," Vin agreed, grinning at Ezra’s description. "Riley and me were in the Army together. I was a green recruit and he was nearin’ retirement as a top-kick sergeant, but we got along real well right from the get-go. He used to tell me stories about his life back in Colorado, and I guess that was part of the reason I decided to give this place a try."

"Did you introduce your friend to Mr. Larabee, or was it the other way around?" Ezra asked curiously.

"I recommended Riley when Chris was lookin’ for somebody to come around the ranch and help out with his stock last year. Man’s a wizard when it comes to horses. It was just luck that he happened to still be livin’ around this area."

Ezra gave him a bland smile. "They do say that fortune favors the foolish."

"That why you’re such a lucky son of a bitch?" Vin shot back with a grin, flipping Ezra’s pack at him. "C’mon, we’d best get going towards the lake. This nice weather ain’t gonna hold all day and I don’t want to get wet unless it’s to wade in and wrestle one of them fish out with my bare hands."

Ezra chuckled. "Surely you’re joking. It’s a beautiful spring day. Hardly a cloud in the sky."

"It’ll rain, I guarantee it. Probably not ‘til late afternoon though."

Though Ezra had his doubts about the accuracy of Vin’s meteorological skills, he decided not to take any chances. Pulling his coat back on, he grabbed the fishing pole Vin had loaned him and the tin of cookies he had brought along. It never hurt to be prepared. "Let’s be on our way then."

Soon, Vin was tromping through the woods with complete confidence in his route while Ezra trailed a few yards behind him, intent on keeping up but deliberately lagging far enough behind to admire the scenery. Contrary to popular belief, Ezra did not hate spending time outdoors. He found a certain degree of enjoyment in fresh air, exercise and the beautiful sights that Mother Nature had to offer. He simply preferred to choose for himself when and to what degree he came into contact with those things.

They had been walking for nearly forty five minutes and Ezra was beginning to wonder just how much of a hike Vin planned to subject him to when they came to a clearing. Just beyond the edge of the tree line lay a small lake, its waters stirring faintly in the soft breeze, causing sparkles of sunlight to dance on the surface.

"This is a lovely place," Ezra said sincerely. "It doesn’t even seem as though it should be here, just tucked away in the woods like an unexpected piece of paradise."

Vin smiled in pleasure at the approving comment. "I felt that way too when I first saw it. Riley’d told me there was a lake and several small ponds tucked up in these woods, but he hadn’t told me exactly where. I’d come up here to do some backpacking one weekend, was just climbing up a slope around the other side figuring to cut through this way before heading back to the cabin, and here it was."

"So you had the joy of discovery as well as the pleasure of this sight," Ezra said. "Very fine indeed. So, what do you say we find out whether or not there are, in fact, fish within the boundaries of this promising little body of water."

"Oh, there’s fish all right. Chris caught him a real whopper the last time we came up. It was so big even Buck couldn’t beat it with one of his best stories."

Ezra laughed, settling down on a sun warmed patch of grass and helping himself to a cookie before offering one to Vin and setting the tin between them for easy access. "It sounds as though you must have been expecting Jonah himself to pop out of the beast’s mouth."

Now Vin chuckled. "Well, maybe it was a mite smaller than that, but pretty damn close. We took it back to the ranch and Chris dressed it out and invited the rest of the guys over for a fish-fry that night. Every single man of us ate like kings off of that beauty."

The small regretful sigh that met this statement had Vin looking curiously over at his companion.

Ezra saw the look and said, "Sounds enjoyable. I rather wish I had been there. Was this before I joined the team, or simply one of the many times I was elsewhere while the rest of you were enjoying your leisure time together?"

Vin took a moment to digest the acerbic question, readying his line and casting it out into the water while he considered. "It was last fall. You hadn’t joined us yet. Neither had JD or Josiah, so it was just four of us then. You know you would’ve been welcome to join us if you’d been around, right?"

Ezra looked out at the water and shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose."

Vin put down his pole to give the other man his full attention. "What’s eatin’ you, Ezra?"

"What ever do you mean?"

He shifted a bit closer, forcing Ezra to look at him. "I mean that you been acting downright crabby lately. First you’re annoyed when we invite you to do things, then you’re irritated when we don’t. You turned down my offer to come out here cold, then you did a 180 and called up in what you’d usually consider the middle of the night to ask if you could join me. Now you’re mad because you know that the rest of us’ve been doin’ stuff together before you even knew us?"

A flush had crept up Ezra’s neck at the accusation and he once more looked away. Had he really been so obvious? "I apologize, Mr. Tanner," he said stiffly. "I had no right to be churlish. I should not have been irritated with any of you when you were only attempting to be friendly."

Laying a hand on his shoulder, Vin told him, "Don’t apologize. Just tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours."

Ezra found himself struggling to maintain the bland disinterested attitude he had long ago mastered to keep other people from intruding on his private thoughts and emotions. He was shocked by how strongly Vin’s encouraging tone was giving him the desire to, as JD would undoubtedly phrase it, ‘spill his guts’.

Tanner waited him out patiently, averting his gaze to stare out at the water and give the other man a moment to collect his thoughts. His patience was rewarded when Ezra suddenly raked a hand through his hair, blew out a frustrated breath and began to speak.

"I really don’t know what’s bothering me. It’s just---lately I’ve been having the oddest impulse to accept all those offers you and the others are always making to socialize with you outside of work. Even the activities I’m truly not interested in! I’ve found myself on the verge of attending brainless action movies, mind-numbing philosophy lectures, monster-truck rallies and all manner of other loathsome events. Last week I even came alarmingly close to allowing Mr. Wilmington to brainwash me into going on a blind date with him and his femme du jour."

"The ol’ distract the roommate with fresh meat while Buck sneaks off for some mattress-dancin’ ploy?" Vin said knowingly. "I been the bait in one of them traps too. Scary, ain’t it?"

"Horrifying," Ezra agreed heartily, relaxing a little at the joke. "I fell victim to his wheedling ways not long after I moved to Denver. Spent an entire evening trying to fend off some cross-eyed octopus in a dress while Buck enjoyed his evening elsewhere in the company of her roommate, a young woman who had the appearance of a Barbie doll and the apparent IQ of a turnip."

"Well, Buck’s a mighty persuasive man sometimes," Vin laughed. "Especially when you don’t know him too well. The fact that you almost went for round two is a little scary, though. As for all them other things, it sounds to me like maybe you just been keepin’ to yourself too much lately. You really should go out and do stuff with the rest of us, Ez. You’re more than welcome. We don’t bite, y’know, and it ain’t like you’re gonna lose that mile-wide independent streak of yours if you give in and let us be your friends."

When Ezra looked up in surprise, Vin nodded. "That’s it, ain’t it? I kinda wondered if that’s why you kept turning us down."

Ezra stared at him for a long time, then hesitated a moment before saying, "I told you earlier that I’d had a dream last night?" At Vin’s encouraging nod, he went on. "In it, for the first time since I’ve known you all, everyone had plans that I found enticing. And also for the first time, I was completely unwelcome in all of those plans. I had become less than an afterthought to you all, a joke really. And---and I knew it was my own fault. When I woke up, for a moment I was unsure whether it had been real or a figment of my imagination. I only knew that I did not want it to be true."

"So you called me?" Ezra nodded, clearly embarrassed by the admission. Vin nudged him and gave him a grin. "And has it been such a bad deal so far?"

"I’m having a good time," he said quietly.

"Good. Try and remember that the next time around. We ain’t gonna let you down, Ezra. You can trust us all to be straight with you, and you can feel free to be just as straight with us about what you want, whether that means you do want to hang out with us or you don’t."

For a few seconds, Ezra was silent, turning the statement over in his mind. Then he said, "You know, Mr. Larabee is right about you." At Vin’s raised eyebrow, he said solemnly, "You really do have a way of cutting through the crap."

For a moment, Vin was startled. Then he caught the twinkle of humor in Ezra’s green eyes and both men started to chuckle.

"All righty then. Now we got that settled, what do you say the last one of us to catch a fish cleans the whole mess?" Vin wagered, stuffing two more cookies into his mouth and picking up his pole once again.

Feeling a tug at the end of his freshly baited line, Ezra grinned. "That, sir, is a bet."

Vin and Ezra had been sitting next to the sun-dappled lake for nearly three hours, relaxed and lazy as they enjoyed the warm idyllic morning, sharing sporadic bursts of conversation and the rest of Mrs. Prescott’s chocolate chip cookies. Ezra had made the first catch of the day and was thereafter content to just float his line and let Vin worry about capturing dinner. If any other fish happened to take an interest in his line, he would pull them in but it wasn’t important that they do so. He was happy with his one good-sized catch, comfortably smug in the knowledge that he would not have to clean anything they captured, however many that happened to be.

Ezra had nearly fallen asleep on the warm grassy bank when the first drop of icy rain hit him square in the middle of his forehead. He sat up with a squawk of indignation that was echoed by Vin as the rain began to fall in earnest.

Even though he had predicted precipitation before the afternoon was out, Vin was shocked by the suddenness of its arrival. In one moment the sky was clear and bright. In the next, the sunlight disappeared like a doused candle flame and huge cold drops of water began to pelt down upon them.

"Dang it, give a man some warning next time!" Vin barked at the sky, hurrying to load supplies back into his knapsack and shooting a malevolent glare upwards as he rushed to tie the string of four lake trout he and Ezra had caught between them.

"Good Lord, I have never seen a storm gather so quickly," Ezra gasped, jerking the cuffs of his jeans down and quickly pulling on the boots and socks he had removed to dabble his feet in the cool lake. Stuffing the last of his possessions into his pack, he threw his jacket on and scrambled up the bank into the woods right behind Vin.

Ezra had experienced his fair share of cloudbursts back in the south, often catching an impressive show of thunder and lightning as a bonus, but this was ridiculous! Each drop of rain that fell seemed to originate from a thimble-sized bucket, cold and harshly driven by the now howling wind, and within seconds both he and Vin were soaked to the skin. Water streamed in rivulets from their hair and down their clothing, splashing over their faces and bodies as they made for the safety of the cabin.

Slipping and sliding the two men ran, trying to ignore the branches slapping at them and the increasingly muddy ground that alternately sucked at their boots or seemed to slide right out from under them. The rain continued to slash down with driving force as the angry wind pushed and pulled. It grew steadily more difficult to made any progress as the ground quickly became a sucking morass of mud and the wind shifted again and again, propelling them forward, slapping them from side to side, then pushing straight back into their faces like a giant unseen hand.

"I never seen anything like this!" Vin shouted, straining to make himself heard over the crashing force of the storm. "We can’t be far from the cabin but I can hardly see where I’m goin’! Don’t think we can risk going any further until this slows up or we’re gonna get turned around for sure!"

"Perhaps we can find some other shelter!" Ezra shouted back. Knowing it was futile; he wiped the streaming water away from his face as he stopped to look around. The black clouds overhead had grown impossibly thicker and darker, making the time seem more like midnight than not yet noon. "I can’t see a Goddamned thing in this!"

"Hang on a second while I dig out my flashlight."

Ezra doubted that would help very much but he refrained from saying so. The force of the wind increased and the ground grew steadily more saturated. The temperature had begun to plummet as well, and Ezra hunched down into his coat as far as he could manage in an attempt to escape the foul weather.

"Hold on, I almost got it," Vin told him, cursing quietly at himself for having shoved his light down into the bottom of his pack in his hurry to get everything inside.

"Take your time," Ezra replied sarcastically, shivering against a pool of cold water that chose that moment to roll over his collar and down the back of his neck.

In his misery with the weather conditions, Ezra never noticed the state of the tree he chose to brace himself against while waiting for Vin. He could not see that it was settled on a slope, appearing as tall and strong as any of those surrounding it, but possessing roots that were only half buried in the earth.

The precariously positioned trunk was no match for the sudden force of a one hundred sixty pound adult male throwing himself against it in a show of disgust with the world.

Vin’s head whipped around at Ezra’s shout of alarm, turning just in time to see the great tree Ezra was leaning against suddenly rip itself out of the ground, crashing backward and pulling the southerner off his feet. Tree and human seemed to move in a strange slow-motion dance as the muddy ground beneath them churned and slid, not giving the frantically groping man anything solid to brace himself against. The roots threw clumps of soil up into the air, pelting Vin with mud as he scrambled forward, trying desperately to reach Ezra.

For a moment, their fingers touched, and then the last of the tree’s roots ripped free, sending Ezra Standish tumbling down the hillside.

~*~*~*~*~

"Shit! Ezra, hang on, I’m comin’!" Vin shouted, running back to his abandoned pack and thrusting a hand inside. Not caring now how much of a mess he made, Vin flung his fishing equipment and other possessions to one side as he reached for the light and a length of strong rope. Quickly but carefully tying one end of the rope to the trunk of a still-solid tree flanking the area where the fallen one had been, he grabbed his flashlight and scurried down the slippery hillside as fast as he could manage.

Ezra had disappeared from sight as the tree rolled and slid to the bottom and Vin shouted his name repeatedly as he descended. "Ezra!" Vin called again as he reached the upended roots. "C’mon, talk to me! Where the hell are ya?"

There was no answer and for a long terrible moment, Vin feared that his friend might be dead, crushed beneath the weight of the fallen tree. Then he heard a soft moan coming from the opposite side of the thick trunk.

"Thank God," Vin huffed, scrabbling over the broken, rain-drenched branches to reach the other man. For a moment, he still did not see anything as he moved the flashlight beam slowly over the ground.

Another muffled groan drew his attention closer to the tree and Vin sucked in a breath, realizing that his initial fear was not far off base. He could make out a hand, an arm and a thatch of wet hair, but nothing more. The rest of Ezra’s body was trapped beneath the tree.

"Jesus," he muttered, scooting further down so that he could lay a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. "I’m here, Ez. I gotcha."

At the touch, Ezra flinched, then carefully twisted his head away from the trunk so that he faced outward. Finding himself staring at a pair of mud-caked boots, he blinked slowly and frowned, straining to lift his head high enough to see his companion’s face.

Vin was relieved by the effort. If Ezra could lift his head then maybe his spine was undamaged. Hunkering down so that Ezra could see him better, he asked, "You all right? How you feeling?"

Ezra seemed to consider the question quite seriously before he replied, "Flat?" Vin smiled at the questioning tone of his voice, prompting Ezra to add, "Did I just---get assaulted---by a tree?"

"Looked like it," Vin told him, using his fingertips to lightly brush some of the mud and debris away from his friend’s face. "Reckon you must’ve pissed it off somehow."

Ezra did not answer, only gasped a bit and let his head flop back down to the muddy ground as the strain of trying to hold his neck at such an unnatural angle became too much.

"Tell me what’s goin’ on with you, Ezra," Vin ordered. "I can’t see most of you, so you’ll have to give me some clues."

For a moment both men were silent as Ezra took stock of his body, the only sound in the woods the steady beat of raindrops on the surrounding leaves and the howl of the wind. If there was one positive in the situation it was that the canopy of trees far above their heads prevented the worst of the weather from reaching them.

Finally, Ezra spoke again. "I think---my right leg---may be broken."

"Damn. What else?" Vin persisted.

Ezra drew in a sharp breath, eyes opening wide with a sudden shock of pain as he attempted to shift. "Ribs. I can move---just a little, but it---hurts!"

Noticing that Ezra’s free hand had begun to flutter and clench nervously, Vin reached out and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Try to keep still, Ez, you’re doin’ good. Keep talkin’ to me. I want to try and move you but it might not be a good idea until I can be sure how much damage you got under there. Don’t want to make the situation worse."

The suggestion prompted a far different response than Vin was expecting. Instead of resuming his physical inventory, Ezra suddenly panicked. Jerking his hand free from Vin’s light grasp, he began to twist and fight against the weight pressing down on him, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes against a few tears of pain that began to trickle down his muddy cheeks as he struggled. "Vin---it’s---crushing me!" he gasped. "Can’t---breathe!"

"Ezra, go easy! You got to stop moving around! I’ll help ya, but you need to stay calm," Vin ordered, succeeding only with difficulty in keeping his own voice steady. Clamping Ezra’s shoulder to the ground with a bit more force than he had intended, he said, "It’s okay, Ezra. It’ll be okay."

Ezra tried once again to wriggle free, moving far more weakly this time. Craning his neck in an attempt to once again see Vin’s face, he begged breathlessly, "Please---get it---off!"

Dropping low to the ground, Vin shifted to place one of his hands on Ezra’s head, tightly squeezing his flailing hand in the other, knowing that the other man needed as much human contact as he could get right now.

"Calm down, partner," he ordered, gazing squarely into Ezra’s wild green eyes. "The tree’s not moving. It’s pressin’ on you and I know that has to be mighty uncomfortable but it ain’t gonna crush you. This soft ground has enough give in it to cushion you some. As for the rest, I can only imagine how awful it must feel to be lyin’ there hurt with a mouthful of mud and some goddamned overgrown toothpick leanin’ on you, but you gotta try and take it easy. Hear me?"

As Vin continued to speak in soft even tones, Ezra stopped struggling. He swallowed harshly and nodded his head in a single quick jerk; eyes squeezing shut as he attempted to gather his emotions together. His hand was gripping Vin’s tightly enough to hurt, but the long-haired man made no protest.

"Good, that’s real good," Vin told him. "Now I want you to take some real easy breaths, slow in and slow out. Just concentrate on getting some air and don’t worry if it’s not as easy as usual. Just breathe, Ezra. Nice and steady; that’s it."

Finally, Ezra reopened his eyes, the fear in them having subsided to a manageable level. Quickly releasing Vin’s hand, he croaked, "Sorry."

Patting him lightly on the back of his shoulder, Vin said reassuringly, "Nothin’ to be sorry about. I’d be pretty riled up in your place myself. Now you just take it easy and I’ll see about findin’ a way to get you freed. Once I get this tree up off you, we’ll get ourselves out of here and be back home in time for supper."

"Not th’ fish," Ezra murmured softly. "Don’ really---like fish."

Startled by the comment, Vin barked a laugh. "You tellin’ me that you been catchin’ trout with me all morning and you don’t even like ‘em? What the hell did you do it for then?"

"Good comp’ny," Ezra said vaguely, jerking his head and blinking as his eyelids began to slide closed against his will.

"Well, I appreciate the flattery but I think you’re just sayin’ that because you’re afraid you’ll have to eat my cookin’," Vin said lightly.

Ezra’s right cheek creased up with a slight smile. "Caught me." Glancing around, he squinted at the surrounding foliage, frowning in confusion. "Dark already?"

Worried, Vin sat up and retrieved his flashlight from the ground next to him. Lightly gripping the back of Ezra’s head, he shone the light into his eyes in an attempt to gauge the size of his pupils.

Ezra weakly pushed the flashlight away, whining, "Quit it!"

"Think you’re goin’ into shock here, buddy," Vin told him, letting go. Glancing at his hand, Vin froze as the beam of light touched it. His palm was stained bright red where it had been in contact with Ezra’s scalp. In the dim light and rain he hadn’t been able to see or feel the blood. "Shit. Looks like you bashed your head on the way down, Ez. You’re bleedin’ some."

Ezra swiped at his cheek, smearing the mud and the remnants of tears. "’M a mess," he said unhappily.

"Yeah, I’m afraid that about sums it up," Vin agreed. "I gotta get you out of here pronto. Now, you said you think your leg and maybe some ribs are busted, so once I figure out how to get this tree out of the way, we still got to find a good way to get you back up to level ground."

"Aren’t we?"

Not entirely sure what Ezra was referring to, Vin asked, "Aren’t we what?"

"Level?"

"Nah, you used that tree like a big ol’ sled. Slid straight down into a gully that I hadn’t even known was back here."

Ezra sighed, wincing a little. He considered this news for a moment, visibly struggling to put his thoughts in order then said, "Don’t s’pose---service."

"What are you talkin’---?" Vin said, then stopped, realizing what Ezra was referring to even as he formed the question. "Aw, shit! Why didn’t I think of that?"

Letting go his grip on Ezra he began to pat frantically at his jacket. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten all about his cellular phone! Fumbling the device out of his inside pocket, he flipped it open and stared at the display. A grin slowly spread across his face. "Well, I’ll be damned. It’s mighty weak but it looks like we got a signal!"

Only a vague ‘mmm’ noise came in reply

Knowing that his reception would be better higher up, Vin debated the wisdom of climbing back up to the trail to call for help. He did not want to leave Ezra alone, but time was against them. The longer his friend lay trapped, the greater the danger to his life. He was bleeding from at least one wound and God only knew how much worse the damage was to the rest of his body. The break to his leg could have come through the skin, or his ribs could be in danger of puncturing a lung. Hell, he could have internal injuries and not even know it.

Suddenly, Ezra gave a groan and his head began to loll forward, moving his face closer to the ground. Vin made a frantic grab for him, knowing that if Ezra passed out he could easily drown in the shallow pool of muddy water that had formed beneath his cheek.

Ezra jerked at the touch, gasping and coughing as he sucked in some of the debris, groaning in renewed agony at the sharp movements.

"I got no choice," Vin said to himself. Using his flashlight, he looked around for something to use as a temporary headrest for Ezra while he climbed up the hill. Just as he had decided that he would have to use his jacket, the edge of the beam caught a flash of red. Ezra had lost his backpack on the way down!

Taking the risk of leaving his friend’s side for a moment, Vin leapt over to grab the pack, practically ripping it open in his haste. The bag itself was too big to use for a pillow given Ezra’s limited ability to move or lift his head. Inside, however, Vin hit the jackpot. Ezra had brought along a fleece blanket against the possibility of chilly weather. It, like everything else the two men carried, was damp but it was still drier than his own sopping jacket, as well as being soft and comparatively warm. Padded around the small flat tin that the cookie-supply had been in, it would be high enough off the ground to keep Ezra’s face out of the mud and there would be enough of the blanket left over to tuck around the exposed portion of his visibly shivering body.

"Hey, Ez," he said, shaking the injured man’s shoulder gently. Ezra’s drooping eyelids fluttered back open. "Listen, I got to go back up the hill and call for some help. I’m gonna have to leave you for a few minutes, but I give you my word I’ll come right back. You understand?"

"Stopped rainin’," he mumbled. "G’on."

"Yeah, you’re right. The rain’s gone," Vin said, having barely even noticed that the storm had ended.

Ezra grimaced in irritation. "Not gone. Go on."

Vin was pleased by the small show of spirit. Hoping that Ezra’s correction meant he wasn’t down for the count just yet, he rapidly tucked the blanket in place. "Be back as soon as I can," he promised, then ran back to the rope and began to climb.

Getting back up the slope proved to be somewhat more difficult than going down it had been. Streams of runoff water from the trees continued to fall, making the hill slippery and difficult to navigate, but Vin’s determination kept him going.

When he finally reached the top and looked back down he let go a soft curse. From up here his friend was completely invisible beneath the tree, and a look overhead proved that the canopy of trees was too thick to allow the possibility of the chopper he’d been hoping to request. The enormous blades of a helicopter would never be able to land safely in this spot. They would most likely have to set down in the clearing where the cabin was. Paramedics would probably need someone to lead them back to the scene of the accident if they were to make good time too. Even if he were to run all the way to the cabin and made good time coming back, it would probably still take at least an hour to bring help. How could he leave Ezra alone for that long, hurt as he was?

"Fuck!" Vin shouted, venting his frustration. The exclamation seemed to echo in the quiet woods and he again looked guiltily down into the gully. If Ezra was still conscious, the last thing he needed was to share his rescuer’s feeling of hopelessness.

Well, standing here doing nothing wasn’t helping anyone, he decided. He would just have to make the call and hope for the best.

It took a few extra minutes of walking before Vin was able to find a clear enough area so that his phone reception would not cut in and out. He and Chris had both put the park ranger’s office on speed-dial as a precaution when they’d begun to come up this way often, and though neither had ever needed to use the service before, both believed in being prepared.

"C’mon, c’mon, pick up, damn it," he muttered as the phone rang, then rang again. Finally on the third ring a voice answered, a woman identifying herself as Cooper. Vin blew out a relieved breath. "Ranger Cooper, my name’s Vin Tanner. My friend and I were hiking up the trail from Pointe Lake when a big rainstorm hit the area. We were running for shelter and my friend took a bad tumble. He’s trapped at the bottom of a gully with a tree on top of him and he’s hurt bad. I didn’t want to try and move the tree without knowin’ for sure how much damage it did."

The voice on the other end asked for details about the injuries and location of the accident, agreeing with Vin’s assessment that leaving Ezra and the tree where they were had been very sensible under the circumstances.

"The trail’s marked pretty clear from the cabin where we’re stayin’ but the place is tucked up kinda snug in these woods and not so easy to see," Vin explained. "It’s in a clearing on the north edge of the foothills, about a mile and a half off of mile-marker 63 and-"

He stopped when the woman interrupted to ask if he was referring to Yosemite Riley’s place.

"Yes ma’am," he said in surprise.

She assured him that with that information she would be able to send a medivac chopper out. It seemed that Riley, unbeknownst to Vin, had been a search and rescue volunteer at the ranger station for a number of years, with his cabin offered up as a checkpoint. Ranger Cooper advised that it might take some time for help to reach him as a lot of damage calls were flooding in after the brief but violent storm. Vin readily agreed to leaving a clear marker on the trail where the accident had occurred, glad to know that he would not have to leave Ezra alone until someone arrived.

As soon as the call disconnected, Vin grabbed the rope and scrambled back down the slope, retrieving Ezra’s red backpack and hauling himself back up once again to place it prominently on the trail. He wished he had thought to grab a couple of the road flares he habitually kept in the back of his jeep, but this would have to do.

He paused a moment as his eye landed on the fishing gear and their abandoned catch lying filthy and forgotten on the ground, wondering regretfully how a day that had started out so terrific could have gone wrong so quickly. Damn.

Slipping and sliding back down the gully for a third time, Vin skidded to his knees in the mud next to Ezra and placed a hand on his arm. Ezra did not respond to the touch, but the blanket had done its job keeping his face out of the murky standing water and he was breathing shallowly but steadily.

For a moment, Vin debated. As long as Ezra was unconscious he could remain pleasantly unaware of his situation. On the other hand, there was no way to know how bad the injury to his head might be and it could be very dangerous to allow him to sleep in that condition.

Decision made, Vin once again shook the other man awake. "Ezra? Come on back, buddy. We need to keep talkin’ for awhile."

Ezra grimaced, coughing a little and groaning as the motion shook his battered body. "Don’ wanna talk," he grumbled.

Uncaring of the mud that squelched beneath his body, Vin adopted a side reclining position, propping himself on one elbow so that he could look into Ezra’s glazed eyes. "Now that ain’t the Ezra Standish I know," he said lightly. "Ain’t you the guy who claims that there’s never a bad time to hold a civilized conversation?"

"Never happened---b’fore," Ezra replied crossly, sounding slightly more alert.

Encouraged by the response, Vin pretended to be insulted. "You sayin’ I’m not civilized?"

Ezra smiled slightly. "No. Just---non-conversant."

"True enough, I guess," Vin chuckled. "I’m willin’ to make an exception, though. Need to keep you awake until help arrives. Our options for entertainment are kinda limited, so I figure we might as well talk awhile."

Unable to stop himself, Ezra tried to shift his position but quickly stopped, his face going pale and tense as he gave a small gasp. "How---long?"

Vin did not want to give him a time estimate to worry over, knowing that every minute already had be crawling by with agonizing slowness. "As long as it takes."

"Help?"

Taking a chance that Ezra was asking for information and not offering a plea, Vin told him, "Rangers are sending a medical team up to the cabin in a chopper. They know right where we are. Should be here in no time at all."

Closing his eyes, Ezra nodded shallowly. "Good," he breathed.

"Don’t you fall back asleep now," Vin warned, shifting again to place one hand atop Ezra’s head. The contact seemed to help him stay awake but Vin could not help wishing it was unnecessary when he saw the bunching of muscles in Ezra’s jaw and realized that he was clenching his teeth against pain. "Your leg feelin’ worse?"

"On fire," he agreed, swallowing hard. "Entire---body hurts, but---leg’s agony."

Short, panted replies were all that Ezra could manage. As the tree continued to press down on him it was becoming increasingly harder to draw normal breaths, even without his ribs protesting every single one. His head was throbbing and dizzy, and though he had not told Vin, he was growing increasingly worried about his left side. The arm, leg and pretty much everything in between was numb; leaving Ezra with the peculiar sensation that everything left of his backbone had been disconnected. That was why he had panicked a little while ago, and why he was struggling mightily to keep from giving a repeat performance now. What if the tree had crushed his body past repair? Would he be paralyzed? Require amputation of the affected limbs? Would he die?

A soft animal-like moan escaped from Ezra’s lips and Vin began instinctively to rub the tips of his fingers into his friend’s scalp, offering what scant comfort he could. Ezra could not even drum up a hint of the resentment he would normally have felt at being handled like someone’s pet cat or dog. The touch was reassuring somehow. "I’m scared," he admitted, the words barely audible.

"I know," Vin told him. "Kinda feelin’ that way myself, but this won’t last forever. Before you know it, we’ll be out of here and you’ll be fixed up and comfortable in a nice warm hospital bed."

Ezra’s nose wrinkled in distaste. "Hate hospitals. Noisy---intrusive---foul-smelling places."

"Yeah, and they always got that same puke-green paint on the walls," Vin agreed amiably. "But they’re cleaner than here, you gotta give ‘em that. Got good drugs and lots of doctors for you to order around."

A little snort was Ezra’s only response to this, knowing perfectly well that Vin Tanner was the only member of their ATF team who hated hospital stays even more than he did.

"Not convincin' you, huh? Well, there's always a chance to flirt with all them pretty nurses. Even I like that part. Besides, just think what a great story this'll make to impress 'em with."

Ezra made a derisive noise. "Man fells---mighty oak---with one thrust of his---ass. Resulting in a---Jack and Jill---impersonation. Indeed. M-most impressive."

Surprised by the dry comment, Vin laughed. "Ain't so sure I like that comparison. Makes me Jill, don't it?" Ezra smiled, closing his eyes once more. Vin nudged him again and continued, "You got a point, though. Reckon you’ll have to dress things up a little. You should ask Buck for pointers. When it comes to women, he can spin bullshit into gold better than anyone I ever met."

Ezra just blinked sluggishly. His previous quip seemed to have taken all the energy he had.

Vin wracked his brain for something else to talk about. Ezra seemed to be enjoying listening to his voice but was clearly beginning to struggle to pay attention. He needed to find something that would keep him awake and interactive.

His gaze fell upon the mud-caked sleeve of Ezra’s jacket. "This for real?" he asked, plucking at the material to get the other man’s attention. "A letterman’s jacket, I mean. I didn’t see a letter, but it looks pretty old. You get it in school?"

Ezra stared at the sleeve for several seconds before replying, "High school. Removed th’ letter. Looks better---without."

"You never struck me as a jock," Vin said, genuinely surprised. He had expected a negative answer; assuming that Ezra had just purchased the coat somewhere because he liked the way it looked or needed something for an undercover assignment. "What sport did you letter in?"

"Two," Ezra mumbled. "Swimming. Baseball."

Suddenly, Vin was glad he had chosen this particular topic. Not only did it seem to be working as a distraction; it was allowing him to find some unexpected common ground with his secretive companion. "Used to play a little myself. I was a damned good pitcher in my day. You?"

"Catcher," he replied. "Nobody---charged my base---without paying dearly."

That made sense, thought Vin. Ezra could be damned aggressive when it came to protecting anything he viewed as his own. "Bet you were a pretty mean batter too."

"Nnn-uh," he murmured negatively. "Too many---pop-flies."

Vin smiled. "Outfielder’s dream, huh? How ‘bout the swimming then? What was your best event?"

"Four by---one hundred--- m-medley."

Ezra’s breath caught on the final word and he spent several long agonizing seconds choking and coughing, trying desperately to stop himself as the pressure against his ribs grew excruciating and every jerk of his body seemed to send fresh spears of white-hot pain lancing through his right thigh.

"Ah---God," he moaned when the spell finally ended. Shifting his hand away from his mouth, where he had automatically placed it when he began to cough, Ezra’s gaze fell upon his skin and froze. "Vin?"

Vin’s eyes followed the path of Ezra’s and he muttered, "Shit." Both the hand and Ezra’s lips were darkly stained with blood.

There was no more conversation after that. Ezra was afraid to speak, concentrating all of his energy on breathing as normally as possible and not aggravating his lungs into another fit of coughing.

Vin understood and did not try to force him. Instead he redoubled his efforts to distract the injured man, reciting poetry, singing snatches of country music songs until Ezra’s irritated glare made him stop, and generally prattling on about anything he could think of.

"I feel like I done used up an entire month’s worth of words today," he commented after a while, smiling to see amusement shining in Ezra’s weary eyes. "Y’know, Buck and Chris, JD and Nathan wouldn’t believe I had it in me to ramble on about nothing for the best part of an hour. Josiah, though, he’d know better. Him and me got good and drunk together one evenin’ and something he said started me spoutin’ off like a live volcano. Don’t exactly remember what it was all about, but that was probably the longest string of words I’d ever put together at one time until right now."

Ezra did not answer, but reached over and gave Vin’s wrist a weak squeeze, thanking him silently for his ongoing efforts.

"Least I could…" Vin cut himself off, head snapping up sharply at the sound of a voice calling out from above. Jumping to his feet, he waved both arms and shouted. "Hey! We’re down here! Hurry!"

From up the hill, someone shouted a reply and soon three people were climbing down using ropes to steady their descent. One man carried a large pack upon his back and balanced a medical kit in his hand, while another maneuvered a backboard and another large case. Vin moved back out of the way as the first paramedic knelt down next to Ezra, talking calmly to him as he checked vital signs, which were reported into a walkie-talkie.

The third rescuer, a tall black woman in a green uniform moved to Vin’s side. "I’m Ranger Cooper, we spoke on the phone," she said briskly. "We’ve brought the park’s ATV to take you and your friend to the cabin. There’s a chopper there waiting to transport you both to the nearest hospital."

"Thank you," Vin told her gratefully. "My friend started coughing up a little bit of blood about forty five minutes ago and I been real scared that he might’ve punctured a lung. Was getting worried you folks wouldn’t reach us in time."

Cooper relayed this piece of information to the two paramedics. They nodded and the one nearest Ezra again spoke into his walkie-talkie. Vin watched as the men quickly deliberated on the safest way to remove the tree, then one reached into his pack and pulled out a light tarp. He spoke to Ezra for a moment, then placed the cloth over his face and the exposed part of his body.

Vin was about to protest this action when the other man removed the case he had carried down on his back and pulled out a chain saw. Cooper gestured Vin back while the others donned safety glasses, then she moved to help balance the weight of the tree away from Ezra’s body so the third rescuer could cut through it in sections. Unable to stand back and do nothing, Vin quickly crossed around to the opposite side of Cooper and helped lift the thick trunk. The first paramedic began to protest but the second, a middle aged man with brown eyes that looked as though they had seen through centuries, looked Vin in the eye and just nodded, reaching into his pack for an extra pair of plastic goggles.

Four workers and the powerful saw made quick work of the fallen tree and within minutes the medics were bustling around Ezra, checking him carefully and cataloging each new injury and physical reaction. Soon, they had strapped all three of the previously trapped limbs into splints, carefully applying a neck brace before rolling Ezra gently over onto the backboard.

Vin had stepped back to allow the professionals to do their work but he craned his neck trying to watch Ezra’s face. He had hoped that his friend would do as he’d been struggling not to do for the last hour and lose consciousness, but perversely, the southerner was now wide-awake. He held himself very still while the medics worked, but his green eyes were darting fearfully and his breathing was growing harsh and unsteady. The pain he felt was obvious and Vin knew that Ezra’s inability to see him, to reassure himself that he had not been abandoned the moment someone else arrived to take charge, was only making things worse.

Ezra Standish valued his privacy more than most, but the men he worked with had quickly discovered that he also had an almost paranoid fear of abandonment that tended to surface most powerfully when he was sick or hurt. Vin had never asked questions, knowing that Ezra did his best to keep anyone from noticing, but he had often wondered whether the quality stemmed from too many years working undercover, the trouble Ezra had experienced in his final months with the FBI, or something left over from his childhood. It was probably a mixture of all three. All that mattered now, however, was that he do something before Ezra became completely overwhelmed.

Exchanging a quick glance with the older paramedic, Vin moved to Ezra’s right side and clasped his free hand in both of his own. Meeting his eyes, he smiled. "You can take it easy now, Ez. Breathe nice and slow and steady, just like I told you before. I’m right here with you and I’m gonna stay until we reach the hospital. I’d stay after that too, ‘cept you know how those folks can be. They’re most likely gonna kick me out and send me off to sign about a million and a half forms granting ‘em permission to give you the Frankenstein treatment."

Ezra calmed visibly as Vin continued to speak, even smiling a little at the last comment. "No bolts---‘kay?" he whispered.

Vin gave him a grin. "Not a one. They’re just gonna fix you up as good as new." Noticing that Ezra’s eyelids were beginning to droop as his adrenaline rush faded, he leaned closer and whispered. "Go on and rest now, Ezra. I ain’t gonna abandon you, you got my word on it. When you wake up in the hospital, I’ll be there."

As Ezra lost his fight with consciousness, the paramedics hooked the backboard efficiently to the ropes they had lowered and gently guided it up the hill.

Vin sat up straight in his chair, the magazine he had been browsing falling to the floor forgotten as Ezra began to struggle against the tightly tucked covers of his hospital bed. A whimper that could have been either pain or fear escaped his throat as his right hand fought free of the bedding and formed a loose fist, as if he were trying to battle against some unseen foe.

Grabbing the flailing appendage in a tight grip, Vin scooted closer to the bed, hoping Ezra would wake before the rapidly beeping heart monitor could develop into a full-on shriek that would bring the doctors and nurses swarming in like an army of ants. Vin knew that a crowd, even a well-meaning group of medical professionals, would only increase Ezra’s feeling of vulnerability if he were to wake up and find himself surrounded by them. He knew, because he would feel exactly that way himself and the more time he spent with Ezra, the more he realized that deep down they were not nearly as different as they seemed on the surface.

"Take it easy there, buddy. I’ve got you. Wake up now and take a look around. You’re okay, Ezra."

Ezra’s eyes opened, blinking slowly as he took in his surroundings. It was a long moment before he could focus on the man next to him. "Vin?" he croaked.

"That’s right. I’m here, just like I said I’d be. You didn’t think I’d gone and left you all alone, now did ya?"

Studying his face uncertainly, Ezra slowly shook his head. His voice sounded as rough as sandpaper as he asked, "Where?"

Ignoring the question for the moment, Vin retrieved the water glass he had left near the bed in anticipation of Ezra’s awakening. "Here, have a sip of this," he said, guiding a straw to his lips. "The water probably ain’t too cold anymore, it’s been sittin’ for quite awhile, but it’s still good and wet."

Ezra seemed more intent on staring at him than in drinking any of the liquid being offered, but finally he seemed to notice the straw and took a brief pull, and then another longer one. Licking his lips, he sighed, his eyes tilting upward as the continuous beeping noise captured his attention. His eyes followed the path of the monitor wires and IV lines attached to his body and some of the nervous tension faded from his expression.

"Hospital," he said, thankful for the realization that his previous thoughts had been part of a dream. The rescue had been real and he was no longer trapped out in the cold and rain and mud, immobilized by a fallen tree.

Vin told him, "That’s right. You’re in a nice clean hospital, with lots of doctors and nurses and good strong painkillers, just like I promised you."

Ezra closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the relief of that news to wash over him, then his brow wrinkled with worry as it came to him that while the rest of his condition had been considerably improved, his body still felt almost entirely numb. Swallowing down the fear in his throat, he asked softly, "How am I?"

Understanding his meaning perfectly, Vin told him, "Not so great right now, but you didn’t do anything you won’t recover from with a little time and effort."

Ezra nodded, recognizing the truth shining in Vin’s eyes. Vin Tanner could never lie to him when he was looking him straight in the eyes. It was a quality that made him an easy mark when playing poker and a great comfort at times like this one. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Any time," Vin told him, knowing that the thanks for more than just that little bit of information. "So, do you want to know?"

Ezra started to draw a deep breath, then stopped, grunting softly in discomfort when he realized that he could not quite manage to do it. His hand pulled free from Vin’s grasp and touched down gently over his ribcage, feeling the bandage around his midsection. "Tell me," he ordered.

"Well, for starters, you cracked a whole bunch of ribs. Three on the right side, four on the left and one of the right side ones broke all the way and managed to nick your lung. That’s why you were spittin’ blood for awhile. Lucky for you it didn’t collapse your lung, it just bled in a little. The doctors patched you up real good, but I been keepin’ an eye on you. Wanted to make sure you didn’t accidentally twist around and mess everything up again."

Ezra paused, taking this information in, then asked, "What else?"

"Oh, plenty," Vin said ruefully. "Bruised one of your kidneys up, strained a bunch of muscles and you also managed to whack your head pretty good. It made you a little disoriented for awhile and required a few stitches back there to close the gash on your scalp but you somehow managed to avoid givin’ yourself a real concussion. I told Nathan that when I called him last night and he said he was gonna give you a medal for bein’ the first one of us all year who managed to bash the shit out of himself without causin’ any brain damage!"

He chuckled at that and Ezra smiled in response. "A dubious accomplishment, I must say."

"Ain’t it, though? Let’s see," he paused a moment, mentally cataloging the list of injuries. "You got a compound fracture in your right femur, which means you won’t be walking much or driving for a couple of months and you managed to crack both the bones in your left forearm. You wrenched your left ankle too but it ain’t broken. You should be able to get around on crutches as soon as all that other damage heals up a little. I think that’s about it."

Ezra looked down to confirm Vin’s words, a small part of him still haunted by his fear down in the gully that his limbs might be damaged beyond saving. There were two reassuring lumps under the far end of the covers where his feet should be and his left arm was strapped down next to his side, presumably to keep it from resting atop his damaged ribs. It was encased from elbow to fingertips in a bright blue cast.

Vastly relieved but at the same time needing to make sure that Vin was telling him everything, he said, "My left side was completely numb. I couldn’t feel any of this."

Vin nodded. "Paramedic told me that a knot in that damned tree trunk had been pushing into you in such a way that it blocked off a major nerve center. Made everything go dead and pinched a nerve in your back so bad that the docs actually had to give it a little shock to make it unclench. You’re gonna be mighty sore for a while once they start cuttin’ the medication back, but you’ll be okay."

The drugs in his IV combined with the surge of relief he was experiencing made Ezra feel light-headed and a little woozy. Blinking rapidly, his eyes moved across the room and it occurred to him for the first time that he and Vin were alone. That was odd. The men he worked with had a habit of charging through hospital wards like a herd of stampeding buffalo when one of their own was hurt.

Even as he opened his mouth to ask, Ezra noticed that room was filled with flowers. So, he hadn’t imagined that! The entire space seemed to be filled with vases, pots and baskets, each brimming over with blooms and greenery, the scent so powerful that he could detect it even with a nasal tube inserted in his nostrils to provide extra oxygen.

Vin noticed the direction of his gaze and grinned. "Oh, yeah, ain’t they something? The rest of the guys weren’t able to get out here right away and I think they felt kinda bad about it. Casey was with JD when I called him, and she and her aunt sent you that bunch of bright red carnations next to your bed. The card on them daisies over by the window came from the Sisters of Mercy mission, so I got to assume Josiah was behind that one, and those real good-smellin’ things right next to ‘em are from Rain and Nathan. That mess of lilies that looks like somebody filched it out of a funeral home came from Chris just about an hour ago. Between you and me, I think his sisters bullied him into sending that, ‘cause Chris ain’t really a flower kind of guy."

Ezra grinned, agreeing with the assessment. "And the rose wreath?" he asked, gesturing vaguely toward a huge horseshoe shaped assortment parked in the far corner. "Don’t tell me it’s from Buck."

"Nope, Buck said he’d be bringin’ you something when he gets here that you’ll like a whole lot better than flowers. Believe it or not, your ma sent that thing. Kinda looks like you just won the Kentucky Derby, don’t it?"

"Indeed," Ezra murmured, shocked at the realization that enough people had been worried about him to make such a prominent show of sympathy. "When did Mother find out? How long have I been here?"

"Just since yesterday afternoon," Vin reassured him. "It’s only a little after 10-a.m. on Sunday right now. I expect Josiah called her, ‘cause that wreath showed up about an hour after I talked to him. He and Buck and JD and Nathan all said they’d be here this afternoon. They wanted to come last night but I managed to convince ‘em that there wasn’t much point in dropping everything to drive two hours just to sit in a waiting room doin’ nothing all night. The doctor told me he’d be keepin’ you sedated until this morning."

A small nod of approval greeted this decision. As much as part of him enjoyed the idea of everyone holding an all-night vigil on his account, a stronger part would have hated for them to do so, particularly when he would have been completely insensate to the gesture. It was quite enough that one of them had made that sacrifice. "You stayed in here all night?"

"Gave you my word I’d be here when you woke up," Vin confirmed with a warm smile. "The doctor said I could stay if I promised to behave myself and not get in anybody’s way. Seemed fair enough. That’s the argument I used on the rest of the guys, too. Said if I was to sic Buck and Nate and everyone on the staff here, they’d kick us all out and we’d never get any news about ya."

Ezra smiled. His colleagues must have felt that one of their number keeping a round the clock guard over him was preferable to sitting supportive but uninformed out in the lobby. "How often have you had to give updates?"

"Every hour on the hour," Vin said, chuckling. "About like you’d expect. I had a hell of a time convincing Chris not to run out on what’s turned out to be kind of a family reunion back in Ohio. Told him if he did that and you found out about it, you’d lecture him ‘til his ears fell off and then kick his ass from here to Cincinnati just as soon as you had a leg healed up well enough to do it."

Ezra gave a puff of laughter, clutching his tender ribs protectively as he did so. "That actually worked?"

"Well, it wouldn’t have but his youngest sister convinced him to wait until tonight to fly home, like he originally planned to. I really gotta meet that woman some time. She must be hell on wheels if she can get Chris to back down when he’s dead set on doing something."

"Most impressive," Ezra mumbled, yawning helplessly as his energy began to give out.

Vin patted him on the arm. "Get some sleep. You’re gonna need your strength when the rest of the fellas arrive to cheer you up later."

Ezra could not even manage a retort as he succumbed to the pull of Morpheus, secure in the knowledge that he was on the mend, and that he would not have to go through his recovery alone.

Ezra had been laid up for two long weeks, but now freedom – or at least a change of scenery – was at hand and he was champing at the bit. He couldn’t wait to go home; to eat food with actual flavor to it, sleep in a bedroom with comfortable furniture and an immunity to artificial lighting and intrusive medical personnel. He wanted his CD, DVD and book collections close at hand when he needed entertainment, and the freedom to make phone calls for as long as he pleased without being charged exorbitant amounts of money for doing so. Most of all, he wanted to be able to see his friends without feeling that he was causing them any great inconvenience.

Between the assorted broken bones and the damage to his lung and kidney, he had been unable to function with any sort of independence and it had been decided that he would have to remain in the hospital for a full two weeks. The distance of his current location from the vicinity of his home meant that it was not as easy as usual for his coworkers to drop in for a visit, but they had never left him alone all day, in spite of this fact. At least two had made the long drive every single day and Ezra could not find the words to express how much that generous gesture meant to him.

The prolonged rest had done Ezra’s damaged body a world of good and he was mending quickly. His ribs still twinged with soreness whenever he did anything to jar them, such as laugh at the bizarre antics that Buck, JD and the others put on to entertain him, but it was now possible to draw deep breaths without breaking into a sweat at the pain it caused. Everything else was still sore and, in some cases, itchy but at least he was now awake often enough to notice.

The stitches had finally been removed from the back of his head this morning and that, to Ezra, was a clear sign that it was time to end his life as a lab rat and get things back to normal. Luckily, the doctor had agreed that traction was no longer essential for the recovery of his damaged femur. As soon as his friends finished signing him out, Ezra would be a free man. Well, almost. While the others had agreed grudgingly to allowing him to recuperate in his own home, for the next few weeks he would have a rotation of roommates until he could once again function fully on his own.

Ezra had never liked depending too much on other people, even those who professed to be willing to take on an extra burden when he was not at his best. He welcomed the idea of having the other men around him more, but hated the thought of them being there only because he could not get along without help. Perhaps if he could prove that he could operate with some measure of independence, things would go easier, he decided.

What he needed was a test.

With effort and careful maneuvering of the crutches Buck had brought him (motivation to get well fast, he had called them), he managed to successfully stand up and move across the room. It was not easy with his left arm barely functional and his right leg not functional at all, but he was unwilling to give up now that he had gotten this far. With much shifting and swearing, he kept going until he reached the room’s small lavatory and proceeded to empty his bladder. It was a great relief to realize that he could, in fact, take care of this particular bodily function without aid or the use of those detestable bedpans, but his sense of triumph was short lived.

Now that he had done what he set out to do, Ezra felt his strength fading. He had managed to flush the toilet and turn himself around, but found that venturing all the way back the way he had come seeming more of a Herculean feat by the second. The bed was no more than ten or fifteen feet away, but it suddenly looked more like a mile.

Leaning against the doorframe, he wondering how long he had before the trembling support of his left leg gave out under the pressure of holding him upright. Maybe he should just give in and crash to the floor, he mused. He could crawl back over to the bed before anyone came in and noticed, right?

The broken bones in his right leg and left forearm throbbed at that thought, as if to remind him just how bad an idea that was.

"Need some help?"

Ezra had been concentrating so intently on his target that he had not heard the door open behind him and he jerked, instinctively turning toward the voice and promptly losing his precarious balance.

"Shit!" Vin exclaimed, diving forward and catching Ezra just as he started to fall. "I’m sorry, Ezra. I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you knew I was there."

With a grimace of pain, Ezra flung his right arm over Vin’s shoulder, allowing the crutches to fall with a clatter as he straightened back up. "Not your fault," he grunted. "I should have been more aware of my surroundings."

"Just lean all your weight on me and I’ll get you situated," Vin promised, balancing Ezra carefully and trying not to squeeze his damaged ribs.

It was slow progress as the two men inched their way back over to the bed. Surprising Vin, Ezra let go a breathless chuckle. "Bet you’re wishing I was JD right now," he huffed.

"Why’s that?"

"Because. Thank you," he interjected as they reached the mattress and he practically fell onto it. He paused a moment to catch his breath, and continued, "Because you and I are of a matched size. If I were a few inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter, our short journey would have been a much less arduous one for you."

Vin laughed. "You got a point, but it could be worse. You could’ve been Josiah! He’s only got two or three inches on us but he’s built like a stone fortress. If I’d tried to catch him that way, we both would’ve wound up on the floor. Of course, if you were JD I probably would’ve just sent Buck up here to pick your heavy ass off the floor while I went to get the wheelchair."

Ezra grinned. "Now you have a point. I am grateful for the assistance, however. I was afraid I might have taken on a larger task than I could handle."

"What’s the matter, couldn’t you wait five minutes until help arrived? You knew we were comin’ up."

Ducking his head in embarrassment, Ezra said, "Call it a fool’s errand. Some things one just prefers to do on one’s own."

Glancing back towards the bathroom and the crutches lying on the floor, Vin shook his head, amusement shining brightly in his blue eyes. "Suppose so."

"Make way, make way, Wilmington express comin’ through!"

Both men looked up as Buck careened around the corner pushing a wheelchair in which sat JD Dunne, laughing and holding on for dear life.

Ezra shook his head. "Mr. Wilmington, if you try to push me in that manner I will sue you for reckless endangerment. I currently have quite enough damage to my physique without your help."

Close behind the playful pair came Nathan, Josiah and Chris. "You’re all set, Ezra," Nathan told him as he crossed over to the bed and automatically began fussing about the patient. "You sure you feel up a long ride? We can wait another day if you don’t."

"Nathan," Chris said in exasperation. "I just got through signing about twenty different forms to get him out of this place."

"I know," Nathan said sheepishly. "I’m just worried. He’s been through a lot and he still needs to take it easy until those bones have a chance to knit some more."

Ezra patted Nathan’s arm. "I do appreciate the concern, but I won’t be doing any walking or lifting or anything that might endanger my recovery. I won’t even be packing my assorted belongings and gifts as I make my exit from these dreary premises." Looking around at the others, he gave them a cheeky grin. "That’s what I have these able servants for."

"Just for that, maybe I’ll feed you jello and mushy vegetables for dinner instead of the spaghetti and meatballs I was planning on," Josiah said, gray eyes twinkling as he began loading his arms up with some of the floral arrangements Ezra had been sent.

"Drew the short straw tonight, did you?" Ezra asked him. He was not really surprised. Josiah denied it, but he was the worst worrywart of the bunch, even more so than Nathan, and would want to reassure himself that his injured friend had a restful first night home.

Josiah gave him a much put-upon sigh. "Yep, I’m afraid I did. And on the same night I had made plans to catch up on the New York Times crossword puzzle too. Wouldn’t you know it?"

Buck reached over to the bedside table, flipping a magazine style publication to Josiah. "If you get bored, maybe Ezra’ll let you work out a couple of these babies."

Ezra made a grab but was not fast enough in his stiff and sore condition to intercept it. He sighed in defeat. "Mr. Wilmington brought me that in lieu of the flowers everyone else provided to cheer me," he explained, wincing a bit as Josiah gave an intrigued grunt and then a wolf-whistle at whatever he was looking at. The publication, which at a glance looked just like any run of the mill puzzle book, contained crosswords, word searches, connect the dots and assorted other games, each with a lewd Adults Only theme to it.

Chris snatched the book out of Josiah’s hand and grinned. "Well, I reckon this would have kept me from getting bored," he approved.

"Yes," Ezra agreed with a reluctant grin. "After I finished the first word search I was mortally afraid to find out what sort of image I would get if I dared to connect the dots."

Everyone laughed as they bustled about the small room. Josiah, Buck, Chris and JD quickly packed up all of Ezra’s possessions while Nathan and Vin helped him to get dressed for the journey home.

As he finished working his casted arm through a shirtsleeve and allowed Nathan to button him up, Ezra’s gaze fell on a package sitting on the end of his bed. He frowned, certain it had not been there earlier. "What’s this?" he asked, reaching for the string tying the brown paper wrapping closed.

Vin stopped him, blocking the knot from his grasp. "It’s just a little present I brought in for you. Thought you might want it back."

Intrigued, Ezra batted his hand aside and tugged the package into his lap. Everyone else stopped what they were doing to watch. Their interested expressions proved that they did not know what the gift was either. As the paper fell away, Ezra’s breath caught. Carefully, almost reverently, he lifted the worn, freshly laundered letterman’s jacket from the paper and held it close to his chest.

"I thought sure this was gone," he said softly. "When it wasn’t returned with my wallet and other personal possessions, I assumed it had been destroyed with my other clothing when I was brought into the hospital."

"It almost was," Vin told him. "They were just about to cut it away from you and I stopped ‘em. Told ‘em it was really special to you and asked if there was any way they could save it. They managed to work it off you without hurting that broken arm and I took it back home and had it dry cleaned for you. The cleaners did a nice job, I thought."

Ezra was too choked up to speak for a moment, but finally, conscious of six pairs of eyes watching him, he drew a deep breath and swallowed down the emotion he felt. His voice was only slightly husky as he said, "How did you know it meant so much to me?"

"I’d never seen it before," Vin said simply. "You don’t seem like the type of guy who has a lot of old keepsakes you like to show off. When you told me what that jacket was for, I figured you wore it that day as a sign of trust, maybe. It was somethin’ you’d earned, somethin’ you’d cared about enough to keep for a lot of years. You deserved to have it treated with respect."

Ezra nodded, then cautiously raised his head and looked around to see if anyone thought this was funny. No one was laughing, only looking at him with a level of understanding that surprised him. "Thank you," he said simply, handing the coat back to Vin. "Help me put it on, please?"

Tanner did so without a word, only offering a pat on the shoulder when he was done. "All right then, you ready to get out of here?"

"More than," he said heartily, relieved that nothing more would be said on the subject.

Once Chris and Buck had helped him maneuver his battered body into the waiting wheelchair, putting the right leg rest up to accommodate his cast, Ezra looked around at everyone. "Gentlemen, I realize that I’ll be seeing a great deal of all of you over the next few weeks, but I was wondering…" They paused, waiting. Ezra licked his lips, feeling suddenly nervous. "I was wondering whether, when I’m back to full mobility, you might be interested in joining me at the park some weekend."

"Park?" JD asked, his puzzlement reflecting in the others’ expressions as well.

Ezra frowned, hoping he was not about to make a colossal fool of himself. He looked up at Vin, who nodded encouragingly; seeming to realize what was going on. "Yes. The park a few blocks from my home has several baseball diamonds. I thought, since the weather is warming up, perhaps you might enjoy a chance to play. They have barbecue pits as well, should we wish to make an evening of it."

When only silence met this announcement, Ezra looked up nervously. To his relief there was shock and a certain amount of disbelief in the men’s faces, but they also looked intrigued.

Vin decided to help him out. "Something we got to talkin’ about up at the lake," he said. "It’ll take a little time before he can squat down with any kind of comfort, I expect, but Ezra tells me he used to be a pretty fair catcher and I can pitch. We ain’t got enough men for a full-on game, but I reckon we can play some catch."

Suddenly Buck grinned as brightly as a neon sign. "Well all right," he said happily. "I used to play outfield back in the day. I imagine I can still catch anything you bunch of daisies manage to hit out."

Josiah bumped him hard enough that he fell off balance and had to catch himself on the bed. "Who you calling a daisy? I’ll bet you five bucks right here and now that I can belt one past you."

They shook on it, the other men also getting in on the action.

"What position should I play?" JD asked eagerly.

Buck cuffed him, laughing as he said, "What else, kid? Short stop!"

As the men filed out, plans and playful insults flying back and forth, Vin grabbed the handles of Ezra’s wheelchair and began to push him out toward the elevators. "Knew you’d take a chance on us one day, Ezra," he said softly. "Think you’ll ever feel like giving fishing another try?"

"Well, given the success of our last venture," he began ruefully, then paused, glancing at the other men laughing and joking around him, realizing that for the very first time he truly felt like one of them. Craning his neck to look up at Vin, he smiled. "I think I just might."

The End