The Long Weekend
ATF Universe
Part of the Adiutor Amor Cervus series.
Part 1 - 3 | Part 4 - 5 | Part 6 - 7 | Part 8
Chris wasn't the only one who was hot, not that it was particularly hot at his ranch, in fact when he sun went down it was very pleasant, but Vin was hot. He had stayed at the ranch after the others had left, to see to the horses late feed. Josiah had offered to stay and help but Vin insisted he was fine and would see all of them on Sunday at Sanchez's as planned. Once the feed was done he was meant to go home - but he didn't. Instead he wandered around the empty ranch house. It was a house he knew very well and yet felt as if he were seeing it for the first time. Now he had time to really see it, with no distractions, a chance to stop and stare at things without feeling self conscious about it.He was in the small room Chris used as a home office, a room he had only ever seen from the doorway before. He felt slightly guilty as he finally crossed the threshold. Turning on the desk light he stared at the pictures on the wall. There was Chris' PD academy graduation picture and squinting and scanning along the lines Vin eventually found Chris, or what he thought was Chris. Next to it was one of a very young Chris in uniform and an even younger Buck, and one of Chris still in uniform next to an older man with sergeant's stripes. And there were pictures of the team, fishing, hunting, riding, cook-outs and lazy days.
Leaving the room he wandered into the bedroom. In a small frame beside the bed was a picture of Sarah and Adam. It was clearly a studio portrait, Sarah, her long dark hair cascading off her shoulders, was holding Adam on her knee, he looked to be about four or five. Mother and son looked so happy, so in love. Not for the first time Vin wondered how he would have coped in Chris' situation. He had died a thousand silent deaths, more than once when Chris had been injured on the job; he didn't even want to think about the possibility of Chris' dying. When Buck had called to say he was having to fly out and bail Ezra out of jail, Vin almost laughed. But then he stopped, because he knew just how worried Buck had to be, and how he would worry if it were Chris.
Chris, everything in his life seemed to come back to Chris. For so long he believed his love would never, could never be acknowledged or returned. Then Buck had told him, not directly but in so many words, that there was hope. But since then, if anything, Chris attitude had hardened against the two love birds in their midst. For all he loved him, Vin hated how casually cruel Chris could be, especially to Buck. He could understand that Chris felt betrayed that in effect Buck had, by omission, lied to him for years. But even with all that it didn't excuse the way Chris had gone out of his way to show Buck he disapproved and believed it was a sham and a mistake. Vin understood that finding out that your oldest friend, the very epitome of straight manhood was involved with a man was a shock. Hell it was shock to all of them! Ezra, well they had all had suspicions about Ezra, but not Buck, never Buck. He wondered if they had suspicions about him, well the others, not Buck and Ezra, who seemed to know already.
Vin was gay, and unlike Ezra, had known it almost as long as he could remember, certainly from puberty. It was the one thing that was made easier by being an orphan, he had no family to disappoint, no parents wanting grandchildren, no father wanting a 'chip off the old block'. And living in children's homes surrounded by other boys, you didn't have to hide it much either. He had had some bad experiences, but he was careful, and he could look after himself, most of the time he was happy with the odd night of mostly anonymous pleasure. Than he met Chris, and his world narrowed down to one man. In the early days he had to stop himself staring at Larabee, especially his ass in those damn tight black jeans. It sent a shudder of pure pleasure to his groin, just thinking about those jeans. The fact that he believed the object of his lust to be totally beyond reach didn't stop his fantasies.
In his dreams he lead Chris to the bedroom, for some reason always at the ranch, and gently undressed a willing, pliant but shy Larabee. He would kneel on the bed in front of Chris and undo his shirt buttons one at a time, once the shirt was open he would run his hands over the taut muscled chest and down the rippled abdomen. His lips and Chris' would meet; they would kiss for a very long time, while Vin's hands roamed all over the compliant Larabee. Than he would push the shirt back and let it drop. Smiling up at the blonde he would undo the man's belt and ease the figure hugging jeans over those, oh so narrow hips. In his dreams Chris never wore any underwear or footwear, and he seemed to pass from fully clothed to naked at some point, but it was never clear when. Once they were both on the bed, Vin would very slowly and gently make love to Chris.
He would lay him down on his back and kiss him everywhere until he finally made it to his erect cock. Although he had seen Chris naked in the shower a number of times, he had never seen him erect, and occasionally worried the real thing wouldn't live up to his fantasies, but since he believed he was never going to see it, there was no point worrying. In his dreams Chris' erection was ramrod straight, sticking out a at precisely 90', long but not excessively thick, it was soft as velvet to touch but hard as iron, the skin was like the finest porcelain, almost translucent, so he could all but see the blood filling it. He would only take the tip in his mouth to start with. Chris would shudder and gasp as he did this, and he would look up and reassure him, tell him to relax and enjoy, Vin was going to take care of him. This was one of the main parts of the fantasy, that just for once he took care of Chris and not the other way around. Vin was convinced Chris needed someone to relieve him of the burden of leadership, just occasionally. He would work Chris' cock in his mouth, deeper and deeper, doing to Larabee all the little things he loved having done to him, all the time Chris would be writhing and screaming his name in ecstasy. And Chris' cum would be a sweet as nectar, as he drank every last drop.
Sometimes the dream come fantasy ended there, at other times it went further. He would run his hand over Chris' opening, looking into those fern green eyes and receiving a silent permission to continue he would push in just one finger - his pinkie - then little by little he would work Chris open. Eventually he would hit that sweet spot inside and be rewarded by Chris gasping out his name and begging for more. When he was ready Vin would ease his way inside Chris, and it would be perfect, tighter and hotter then anyone else. And when they came, synchronised together in perfect harmony, Chris would cry and hold him and tell him he loved him.
It was a daydream that had seen him through a lot of lonely days, and a dream that had woken him numerous times, usually with the need to change the sheets. He stood in Chris' bedroom staring at he bed, he was hard, his erection pressing painfully against his jeans, even so he had no desire to do anything about it, he wanted the feeling of need to last. Without thinking about it, he walked to the bathroom, opened the laundry hamper and pulled out a tee-shirt. He held the soft fabric to his face and inhaled. Chris was there in the armour, his own special sent; soap, nothing fancy just basic soap, but all the soap in the world never seemed to take away the slight horse smell, and under all this was the musky, very masculine smell of Chris himself. Carrying the shirt with him, he lay down on the bed - Chris' bed - and hugging it close, settled down for the night, happy - for now at least - to be where he most wanted to be, in Chris Larabee's bed.
+ + + + + + +
Once they had exited the cellblock and shut the door, Buck put Ezra down on the closest desk.
"Oh God I missed you so much," he exclaimed, as he stood and hugged Ezra to his chest, interweaving his fingers through Ezra's hair. Then he pulled back to look down into the deliriously happy eyes of his lover. "What did you mean 'you came' did you doubt me?"
"I'm sorry Beloved, I tried to tell myself you would come, or you would send someone to rescue me, but deep down I always feel no-one will come, no-one came so many times before. Forgive me, I honestly do not doubt you, please believe me."
Buck's heart melted instantly as he saw and heard the old, deep hurts that had wounded his love. The main perpetrator of those hurts was even now in their home, awaiting their return. He decided not to tell Ezra about Maude just yet.
"I do, I will, just remember you have me now, and I will always come and I will always protect you, okay?"
"I know, I do honestly. Beloved take me away from here - please, take me home."
"Soon but not yet."
Buck hated to see the disappointment in Ezra's eyes but he needed to take care of his feet, find Ezra's gun and other possessions and finally make some arrangement to get the hire car back to were it belonged. After scouting around for a bit he found the first aid kit Ezra had been using earlier. The problem of how to wash the feet was not so easily solved. In the end he carried Ezra to what served as a kitchen and clearing off what looked like a months' worth of dirty dishes, sat Ezra down next to the sink. Then he made him dangle his feet over the edge while he washed them. No glass appeared to be in the wounds but several were deep and all were dirty. Several were still bleeding freely, Buck was competent at first aid, it was a prerequisite in their job, and in those years, trying to keep Chris alive and in one piece.
He managed to dress the wounds, applying closure strips to the worst ones to at least slow the blood loss. He even managed to fit a sling to support what was clearly a broken arm or wrist.
After finding Ezra's gun and car key and settling him in the roomy and air-conditioned car he had hired, Buck set out to sort out the car. Once he had bribed the garage owner to return the car, threatening him with every federal agency from the IRS through the ATF to the CDC if he messed up, Buck joined Ezra and they finally left Pikes Hill. If Ezra's soul passed over the place while he wandered the astral plain, it would be too soon and too close!
"Buck I need to clean up, I need fresh clothes," Ezra explained having remained silent until they were out of the town.
"I know, and you need a doctor too."
"Now you fixed me up just fine, I'm okay now, I…"
"Ezra!" There was real annoyance in Buck's tone. "You need a doctor, your foot needs stitches and that arm needs x-raying." Ezra opened his mouth to protest, but Buck cut him off. "Not one more word Ezra, I'm drivin' and we are going to the hospital - but - you can wash up first, and I have some clothes for you in the back." He glanced over at his partner. "What? You think I don't know you by now, think I wouldn't remember to bring you fresh clothes, shaving kit…" He reached over to stroke Ezra's stubbled chin. "Think I wouldn't bring you some decent food - look in the glove box."
"I knew there was some reason I was in love with you!" Ezra reached forward with one hand and opened the glove box. There, inside, was one of his hip flasks, a bag, which proved to contain an apple Danish, and a box of Scottish shortbread - his favourite cookies.
"I was gonna bring some of that real dark, French chocolate you like, but I figured it would 'a melted," Buck explained.
"It's aw…ll wright," Ezra mumbled as he devoured the pastry, before unstopping the flask and taking a long pull on the twelve year old malt whisky inside.
By the time they were nearing the outskirts of Chad, Ezra had had a nap and eaten all but three of the shortbread sticks, the three he hadn't eaten he had fed to Buck as he drove. The passed a motel, Ezra seriously doubted Chad boasted more than one motel so he was surprised when Buck didn't pull in.
"Um, Beloved why are we not stopping, I need that bath you know?"
"Ez, Babe, do you really think I would let you set foot in that place? Even for a few hours? That place is the Bates Motel and the Roach Motel rolled into one."
"You know some place else around here?" Ezra asked with incredulity.
Buck just gave one of his eyebrows up, pure devilment smiles, as they drove into and then out of town. About three miles down the road was a small motel, it looked even more neglected than the first one, it didn't even have a proper 'Motel' sign outside, just one that said, 'Rooms'.
Buck slowed and pulled in, taking the car to the side and parking opposite the side door of what looked like the office.
"Buck what are we doing here? This place is worse than the first one."
Buck just winked at him. "Never judge a book by its cover Ezra, you know that. Stay put, I'll be back."
Buck exited the car and knocked on the side door. As Ezra watched the door opened to reveal a short, plump woman with very obviously dyed red hair, she could have been any age from forty to sixty. She and Buck had a conversation. To begin with, as Ezra read her body language, she was weary, and then she was intrigued and finally sympathetic and maybe a little amused. Finally Buck kissed her cheek and turned away as she went back inside. He was grinning as he opened the passenger door.
"Your bath awaits within sir," he announced as he bowed dramatically, "allow me to assist you."
The long car journey had caused Ezra's mind to forget how to deal with the pain and he gasped as his feet hit the ground.
"Come here you," Buck commanded as he bent to once more carry Ezra.
"I can do it, you don't have to…"
"I know you can, but you don't have to, come on."
Ezra looked up to see no pity or contempt at his weakness, just loving concern. "Someone will see," Ezra warned.
Buck just smiled and lifted him up. It soon became clear why it didn't matter if they were seen. Ezra lay on the truly huge bed as Buck filled the sunken Jacuzzi. The room was red, very, very red. Red drapes, red walls, red carpet. The bed sheets were red satin.
"Let me guess, this is the 'Red Room'?" Ezra asked.
"Reckon so."
"Buck do you know every cat house in the country?"
"No…no of course not, but…" There was that devilish smile again, " I do know how to speak the language, you might say."
+ + + + + + +
Ezra lay back against Buck in the warm bubbling waters, his feet rested out of the water on the other side of the tub. The bleeding had finally stopped and Buck insisted he didn't get them wet and start it all over again. His injured arm floated on the water, in front of him. Buck's strong hands encircled him as he worked a soap-laden washcloth over Ezra's body, cleaning him, purging him of the whole experience. As he did this Ezra's other hand came up past his shoulder to lay along Buck's jaw, stroking and caressing as he relaxed into his lovers gentle ministrations.
Eventually Buck put aside the cloth and just ran his hands over Ezra's torso, the callused fingers trailing up and down his chest, just as he had done in Ezra's fantasy. Inevitably his hands drifted to Ezra's groin, he entwined his fingers in the thick curls at the base of Ezra's shaft, enjoying the way the soft hairs floated around him in the water. He moved to cup Ezra's balls, which brought a gasp from Ezra.
"Please, Buck, yes," he gasped, needing to be loved, cared for, pleasured, needing to have his love for this man who held him so dearly, validated, made clean and shame free again.
Buck enclosed the hardening shaft within his large hand, he rubbed it up to the tip slowly, and then down. He repeated the action, adding just a little more pressure. Little by little he increased the pressure and the speed, every now and again he would let his finger nail run along the shaft and revel in the shudder of pure pleasure it brought his lover.
Ezra was dimly aware of Buck's erection poking him in he small of the back, but he was too close to release to be able to think coherently enough to do anything about it, even if it was physically possible. Little by little he began to move, arching his back in time to the deft touch of his lover. Buck was so lost in the joy of having Ezra back and being able to care for him once more, he didn't even realise he was hard until Ezra began to move, rubbing his back against Buck's aching shaft. Ezra didn't cry out or shout as he came, he just gave the most contented sigh Buck had ever heard, as his seed was lost in the churning water. It was some minutes before he even opened his eyes to gaze up at Buck.
"Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you so much my Beloved." Then he suddenly looked worried.
"What?"
"You?"
"All taken care of Babe, you saw to that."
Ezra was suddenly aware the pressure on his back was gone, his writhing had been enough of a stimulation to bring Wilmington to his own climax, but so intent on Ezra's pleasure was he, Buck had hardly noticed himself.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra had all but fallen asleep then and there, close to his love, supported in the soothing warm waters and sedated by a post-coital hormone induced haze, he had begun to drift pleasantly away. But Buck had not lost sight of their objectives; get Ezra seen by a doctor and get home. Home meant Maude, but that was an issue for after Ezra’s injuries had been seen to properly. It was no mean thing to get Ezra out of the sunken tub without getting his feet wet, but they managed it. Ezra had demanded food before they ventured into the hospital, but Buck refused. He was worried Ezra might need surgery on his wrist and any more food now would delay things.
+ + + + + + +
Chad community hospital was small and worn, it looked like it had been built in the fifties and was in need of a good lick of paint, but inside, despite the obvious signs of age to the building, it was clean and well equipped. Ezra only had to wait half an hour to be seen, an hour after that the doctor, a small compact man called Chapman, came to the exam room with the x-ray films.
"Well do you want the good news or the bad news?" he asked cheerily.
"Why do doctors always have to say that?" lamented Ezra.
"Sorry Mr. Standish but we have to, it’s part of the training, Grey’s Anatomy, Diseases: Signs and Symptoms, and the ‘What do you want first’ speech, can’t take the Hippocratic oath with out them. So what is it to be? Good or bad?"
Ezra couldn’t help but smile. "Good is always preferable to bad."
"You do have a broken wrist, but it’s a simple fracture only effecting the radius, just here." He tapped his own arm, just behind he wrist in line with his thumb.
"And the bad?" Buck prompted.
"The wrist is out of alignment by nearly twenty five degrees, so we are going to have to set it under anaesthetic, sorry." The doctor saw Ezra's crest-fallen expression before it disappeared behind a blank mask that was impossible to read, but he did see the hand of his patient's friend gently squeeze Standish’s leg. "It’s not that bad, while you’re out we will clean out those wounds on your feet and suture them, so you won’t have to go through that while your awake. You should be on your way by lunch time tomorrow."
Ezra was given a bed for the night, surgery was planned for seven thirty in the morning, and all being well he would be discharged at around noon.
+ + + + + + +
Once his head hit the pillow Ezra was asleep, with Buck right beside the bed, watching, gazing in fact. How, he wondered, had he been so blessed, how come, after looking for love for so long, it had just walked into his life like that. He remembered the day Chris brought Ezra into meet them, how he had seen that face, those jade green eyes, those dimples, the way his chestnut hair caught the light which accented the slight wave in it. From that moment on he had been lost, totally, hopelessly lost. That had been amazing enough, but to have his love returned was a miracle, beyond his wildest dreams. Sure there had been a hiccup, and truth be told he still didn't feel he was good enough for Ezra, he was still, deep in his heart, the poor white trash all those people told him he was growing up. But whatever his secret fears and insecurities, he loved Ezra, and nothing would tear him away from that love. It sustained him, fed him, comforted him, gave him hope and courage, security, a future - it was in fact his whole world. Now finally he understood the enormity of Chris' loss, for as much as he had lost, he now knew how much more Chris had lost.
He was sitting beside the bed, his elbows resting on the mattress just gazing, when Dr Chapman walked in. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene before allowing the door to close. The sound drew Buck's attention away from the bed.
"I guess you're not planning on finding a room for the night some place?" Chapman asked quietly.
"No, I've seen the Motel for a start."
"Yes, not very inviting I admit, besides I have the feeling I could offer you the Ritz and you would still be here."
Buck blushed and looked back at the bed, where Ezra his face angelic in repose, shifted in his sleep, and shook his head.
"He is …what I mean is… he needs a friend here with him right now," Buck tried to explain.
If they were in Denver it wouldn't have been a problem, all the hospitals knew how to deal with Team Seven and their very 'hand's on' approach when one of their number was in hospital. But out here in the back of beyond it was harder to explain.
"I can see that, and maybe you need to be here as much as he needs you?"
Buck looked up into the kind eyes of the doctor, seeing understanding and acceptance. He nodded.
"Is that what happened, did some of my less enlightened neighbours take exception?"
"Indirectly," Buck admitted, with a sigh. He went back to gazing at Ezra.
"I am off home now Mr Wilmington, I will see the two of you bright and early tomorrow, sleep well, if you can."
Just then Ezra began to mumble and finally call out for Buck, who, heedless of his audience of one, took the unsplinted hand in his.
"Hush now, I'm here, you're safe, hush darling, go back to sleep," he soothed.
The doctor smiled to himself as he left the lovers together.
Part 7
Chris sat in the dark outside, smoking a cheroot. He heard someone coming out onto the deck. Instinct made him wary and he was ready to move when he detected the footfall of a woman."Hello?" he called softly.
"Oh, hello Mr Larabee." It was Zoë, "I couldn't sleep." She approached and saw the tell-tale glow of his cheroot.
"Cigarette?" she asked.
"No…not exactly, do you mind?"
"No, I came down for a smoke myself, Beth hates it, and I've cut down, I have been days without one, but sometimes there just is no substitute." She sat on the edge of the deck in front of him, he could just make out her silhouette.
"I know what you mean," Chris admitted, as he saw her light up her cigarette, "And please call me Chris, I never did like 'Mister' much."
"Sure, if you want, it's just that…"
"What?"
"You seemed uncomfortable with me tonight."
"No, not with you, it's just…"
"I'm not going to apologise for being what I am, and I do love Beth, I won't hurt her, I promise."
Chris was at a loss as to what to say for a moment, but there was something about talking to someone you can hardly see that made difficult topics easier.
"It's not that, it's not you, not directly, not really. Jane told me about your problems at work, and well …it made me think."
"About what?"
"Me, how I have been behaving, my own preconceptions. The thing is, two of my team are involved, a couple."
"A gay couple?"
"Yeah, I haven't been very supportive, I have been… difficult." He took a pull on his cheroot; Zoë did the same but didn't speak, so he continued. "I told myself it was dangerous, it would compromise the team's safety."
"You’re a federal agent aren’t you?" she clarified.
"Yes, an ATF tactical team, we rely on each other to keep ourselves alive. I told myself they wouldn't be able to remain professional, in the face of the person they loved being in danger. The trouble is they had been having an affair for nearly three months without me or most of the others knowing, nothing changed, they were as professional as ever."
"So what is the problem?"
"One of them - and I have to ask you not to tell anyone, not even Beth."
"I understand, I work for the Pentagon after all, I can keep a secret."
"Well one of them is a very old friend, and I never knew he swung that way, I felt …feel, betrayed, we have known each other for a long time, at one time we were very close, like brothers, but he didn't trust me."
"So you're mad at him because you didn't make him feel safe enough to tell you his deepest secret, a secret that is a social taboo, something people lose their jobs over, are attacked, blackmailed and even murdered for?" she asked in a matter of fact voice.
"Shit! You don't pull any punches do you?"
"There any point, I mean, here and now?"
"No I guess not. And you're right, totally right, about all of it."
"Can I take a guess at something, might be a bit of a taboo topic?"
"At this point, I don't think anything is taboo."
"Beth told me about your family, and…" She sped up so he couldn't interrupt. "You see these two, your old friend and his lover, day in day out, happy, and you're jealous, he has what you lost."
He was going to deny it, but he couldn't.
"It's not their fault though is it?" she continued, "you can't punish them for what you don't have."
"But I want it again, I miss it." He didn't say 'them', this wasn't about Sarah and Adam, it was about love, the whole concept of it, the feeling it gave you, the feeling he got whenever he thought about Vin.
"And there is no chance you will find it? No chance that out there, there isn't someone you could love? I know it wouldn't be the same, but your wife …would she want you to be alone, if you found someone?" Darkness was giving her the chance to be bold, in a way she could never have done face to face.
"No she wouldn't, it's just, I don't think she would have expected me to…" he trailed off.
Zoë turned around, she could just make out his outline. "Expect what? To find love with a man?"
There it was, it was said; she had detected what he had barely acknowledged in himself.
"Yeah." He finally admitted it, he had feelings for a man, for Vin, that were not platonic.
"Would she mind, your wife? Would she have minded you having a relationship with a man?"
"Sarah? No not her, all she ever wanted was for people to be happy." He looked out into the black garden, away from Zoë, even though she couldn't see his face and the tears that ran down his cheeks. "And what do I do? How do I find out how he feels, how in the hell do you know? How?"
"You ask. Worst that can happen? He says 'get lost' - at least you'll know, one way or the other."
"Then what? I'll have lost my best friend."
"Can you go on like this, seeing him all the time feeling the way you do?"
"No…no I don't reckon I can. So what do I do if he says yes?"
Zoë got up and came over to him; she knelt down in front of him, her face just visible.
"One day at a time Chris, you take it one day at a time. Love is so precious and so wonderful, it is worth seeking, and if you find it - wherever you find it - worth fighting for. If you don't do this, you will live with the 'what ifs' for the rest of your life."
Very few people penetrated the formidable Chris Larabee's defences, but on this hot night, far from home, a young woman, a stranger, finally made the great Chris Larabee face his fear and his desire.
+ + + + + + +
Buck was there when Ezra woke up and he was there when he came around from the anaesthetic. He smiled groggily at his lover, and then at the dark navy blue cast on his wrist. He had been given a choice of colours before he was taken to surgery, an although he had dallied with the idea of black, the dark blue, the colour of his loves eyes, a colour that was fast becoming his favourite, called to him.
"Hello there sleepy head," Buck whispered, as he offered him a cup with a straw.
Ezra took the drink of water gratefully and then finally spoke. "Hello you, can we go home now?"
Buck couldn't help but smile, Ezra sounded like a whiney five year old. The next thing you know he thought, he'll be asking 'Are we there yet?' "Soon, Babe, soon. First you have to convince the doc's you're fit to fly and I have to go out, after breakfast, and get some stuff from the town, I'll be back soon I promise, and then, if the Doc says it's okay, we can go, alright?" Ezra pouted and put on a pretence at sulking but Buck just sat down beside the bed and ignored him.
Some five hours later Buck strode into the hospital with his purchases and Ezra's clothes. He had only brought one change of clothes with him and knowing Ezra always felt better when he was smartly dressed and clean, he had set out on a mission. Taking all Ezra's clothes, the suit pants and linen shirt he had been wearing when he found him, the chino's and designer polo shirt he had brought from Denver as well as all the underwear, he returned to the brothel where they had cleaned up and asked a favour. The madam, who now saw him as was an 'honorary member of the sisterhood' so to speak, let him use her laundry and even an iron. Buck wasn't the world's greatest with an iron, he had his shirts laundered, and did his best to purchase casual clothes you could wear straight from the dryer. Eventually one of the girls, a blond called Candy, took pity on him and did it, muttering all the while about how helpless men were.
With the freshly pressed clothes on the back seat of the car, on hangers also provided by Candy, he had headed for the shops.
"What are those?" Ezra asked, eyeing Buck's purchases with a mixture of horror and disgust.
Buck looked at his gift, and wondered if Ezra could be so very elitist as to have never seen a pair of flip-flops. "Um, flip-flops, for your feet?" he offered.
"I can see that."
"Well why did you ask what they are? Honestly Ezra I can't go second-guessing you all the time. You can't wear them shoes that gave you the blisters, and I didn't bring any others," Buck explained.
"They have the Stars and Stripes on them," Ezra pointed out.
"Cool ain't it? They didn't have many in your size, there were these, some pink ones with a flower on and sort of clear ones with glitter in."
"Did it occur to you that just maybe you were looking at the ones meant for women?" Ezra asked, with the just a hint of amusement.
"Yes, I was, but they didn't have any small enough for you in the men's section." Buck winked as he held out the footwear, he did so like to tease Ezra about his small feet; though he was very pleased that the old adage about a man's shoe size and the size of his manhood wasn't true - at least in Ezra's case.
"Couldn't you find any loafers or deck shoes?" Ezra asked, still eyeing the offending objects.
"With them dressings on your feet and the blisters, you're better off with these - trust me?"
Ezra snorted.
"He's right you know," Doctor Chapman announced as he came in with Ezra's notes "and you had better be getting dressed because you are out of here." The doctor smiled as both men's faces lit up. He handed over a copy of the notes and the x-rays to Buck, for the doctors in Denver, he had to get another x-ray in a week and then the cast needed to be on for another four weeks. With luck and a little physical therapy, he would be fine in six weeks. There were more instructions for the sutures.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra had called and cancelled his various stolen cards on Saturday, and by Sunday was able to pick up replacements for the two major credit cards at the airport. With those he traded up their tickets to business class. As the plane got closer to Denver, Buck became increasingly uncomfortable, he still hadn't told Ezra about his mother. After all it just didn't seem fair, he had a broken arm, his feet were so sore he could barely walk, he had been robbed - the paperwork alone, for the tiny gun in is pocket, was a total nightmare - he had lost half a good suit, all his credit cards had to be replaced, some were issued by the ATF and replacing them was a real pain in the ass. And on top of all that, just as he was happy he was going home, Buck had to tell him his mother was at home waiting for them.
Buck looked all around him, apart from a snoozing businessman behind them, they were alone.
"Look Ezra, there is something I haven't told you, I know I should have, and I meant to, but…well you were hurt and you needed a bath and a doctor and so I didn't and I should have …I'm sorry, but I didn't know how too, so I…"
"Buck, stop." Wilmington stopped mid-sentence and looked into Ezra's eyes. "You sound like JD. What is it you didn't tell me?"
"Umm, well, the thing is, I mean there wasn't anyway around it, so I just made the best of it."
"What?"
"You have to promise not to make a fuss, don't get mad, it wasn't my fault."
"Buck, darling, Beloved, whatever it is we can deal with it. I could never be cross with you, now tell me."
"Well I went to the airport to meet you, and she was there …I mean what could I do? I couldn't say no, so she just sort of came along."
"Buck are you saying you met one of your old girlfriends, that you …?"
Buck had been looking down, avoiding eye contact, now his head snapped around to face Standish, eyes blazing. "NO! No nothing like that, I would never, you know that."
Ezra instantly felt guilty about doubting his partner. "Sorry, yes I know you would never do that. So who? Who did you run into at the airport?"
"Maude."
"WHAT!"
"Ezra ssshhhh!" Buck soothed urgently.
"Where was she going?"
"Um, well, to see you. What could I do? You were missing, I was worried, I couldn't think straight…"
"Buck? Buck where is my mother now?"
"Errrrr, in Denver?"
"Buck?"
"At our place."
"WHAT!"
"Look you have to be quiet, please," Buck begged.
"Alright, alright." Ezra took a calming breath or three and then called the flight attendant and asked for a bourbon. Once he had the drink he looked back at Buck, who was so pale he looked like he was about to faint. "I know it wasn't your fault, I know what she's like. She's in the apartment?"
Buck nodded.
"So she knows."
"No, not necessarily."
"Buck you don't know mother, if she's there she knows, believe me."
But Buck told Ezra all about his explanation, and all his precautions. He had moved his underwear from the draw to a grip in the bottom of the wardrobe, so it looked like he had just moved it. For the same reason, he had put his toiletries in his old leather wash bag. All 'incriminating' evidence - like the lube from the bedside cabinets - he had wrapped in a clean pair of Ezra's older boxers and put it at the bottom of the laundry hamper, sure Maude Standish wouldn't investigate in there.
Ezra thought about this and what else there was around the apartment that would have given them away.
"Your washing?" he asked
"In a pillowcase, by the washing machine," Buck reassured.
"Books, the ones by the bed?"
"In the bag with the underwear."
Ezra was proud of Buck, he really had thought of everything, as far as he could see.
"I am going to tell her, just as soon as we get there, you know that don't you?" he assured.
"I know - but…" Buck took Ezra's hand, "only if you want too, I don't want to come between you and your mother."
"Between us? No you could never come between us. Between mother and I there is a gulf so wide the whole Grand Canyon could fit into it. She will either accept, which would be preferable, or not, in which case the gulf will widen just a little more, I sincerely doubt anything will ever close it."
+ + + + + + +
Buck and Ezra were not the only members of Team Seven flying home to Denver that day. Chris had cut his journey short and flown home. He didn't want to bother anyone, so, despite the expense, he took a cab to the end of his driveway and walked the last half-mile. The sun was warm, the breeze sweet with the smell of summer and horses, home. As the house came in site he spotted Vin's jeep. It wasn't unexpected; no doubt Vin was tending the horses before heading over to Josiah's house. After checking the house and dropping off his bags he headed toward the barn. Sure enough, he found Tanner mucking out the stalls, whistling tunelessly as he did. He had his back to Larabee, stripped to the waist, wearing his faded old jeans, the ones with no pockets left that were so threadbare, Chris reckoned one tug would cause them to just fall apart in your hands.
"Vin?" Chris called, trying to concentrate.
Vin looked up and over his shoulder. "Hey Cowboy! You're early." He straightened up and turned around, leaning - as he always did - on the pitchfork. "Thought you weren't due back until t'morrow?"
Chris just stood there staring at him, trying to think straight and breathe normally.
"What's up? Chris?" Vin took a step closer, his whole posture suddenly stiffer and ready to move fast. "Is something wrong, is someone hurt? Is it Ezra?"
Chris finally gathered himself together. "No, everyone is alright as far as I know. Why would it be Ezra, what's wrong with Ezra?"
Vin visibly relaxed again, going back into his customary slouch. He related what he knew about Ezra's mishap. Buck had called him the day before, to say they were on their way home.
"Trust Ezra," Chris muttered. He looked up into those sky blue eyes. "You better put your shirt on." 'Cause if you don't I'm never gonna be able to concentrate, he thought. "And come in the house."
Vin took a step closer. "Why?"
"We have to talk," Was all he would say, as he turned to go.
+ + + + + + +
Maude had spent a pleasant Saturday exploring the shops of Denver, she had even made a purchase or two. In the evening she had spent her time having a meal at the city's top hotel and sitting in Ezra's very expensive recliner, reading one of the books she had found by her son's bed - a biography of J P Morgan. But something was nagging at her, something was not quite right. She spent some of that evening and much of Sunday morning wandering around the apartment. Mr Wilmington had admitted he was living there, and indeed there was evidence to support this. And yet something didn't ring true. A nagging thought entered her mind, one she had had on the odd occasion before. In all modesty, her son was a handsome man, charming, witty, he had money - not as much as he could have had, but he was comfortably off and yet there never seemed to be any women in his life, he seemed to live a celibate life. But even as she had the thought, she dismissed it. Everything she knew about Buck Wilmington told her it just could not be, and if she found it unlikely her son and the rather uncouth Mr Wilmington could share an apartment, how much more unlikely they could be …no it just couldn't be true.
She was just wandering back from the master bedroom yet again, when she heard the key in the lock.
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