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Pairing: (Ezra/Vin)
Disclaimer: This is the place where I acknowledge that I don’t own the already copyrighted material and remind folks that the following is a labor of love and involves no monetary benefit.
Many thanks to Teri for the inspiration, and much love to my beta-reader, Raisa-sama.
The incessant ringing of the cell phone dragged me kicking and screaming into consciousness. I peered blearily at the bedside clock and wondered what hellish fiend would be calling me at such an hour. I checked the called-ID: Chris Larabee. Ah, that fiend. With a groan, I hauled myself into a sitting position and answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Ezra?” he asked.
“Yes?” I responded, feeling slightly peevish. Why did he sound so surprised? He had been the one calling me.
“Why are you answering Vin’s phone?”
“What?!” In abject horror, I stared down at the one blue eye gazing up at me. Lying next to me with half his face still smashed into the pillow, Vin Tanner looked at me quizzically.
“Well, it’s obvious that there has been some sort of mix-up, that I should be in possession of Mr. Tanner’s property,” I continued, desperately trying to come up with the right tone to discourage Chris from further questioning. Defensive? Offensive? Evasive? I settled on Smart-Ass.
“You know, this wouldn’t happen if we weren’t forced to have identical cell phones,” I finished, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
“Ezra.”
“Yes?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
I sighed with relief as I shut the cell phone.
“What was that all about?” Vin asked, watching me crawl half off the bed.
“That was Chris,” I said, as I searched the floor for my own cell phone. “He was trying to call you and I answered your phone by mistake. And if I know Chris, he will be calling my phone and you will have to answer it.”
Having located said phone in the crack between bed and table, I righted myself back onto the mattress and held it out to the now upright Vin.
“Why should I?” he asked. His eyes narrowed in a rather intimidating way. “You afraid of Chris knowing? What, are you ashamed of us?”
Before I could respond, the phone I was still holding out for him to take rang and the caller-ID lit up: Chris Larabee.
I looked at Vin. “Of course I am not ashamed,” I said, “and if you want to be the one to explain everything to Chris at this ungodly hour, when he probably hasn’t had a sufficient amount of coffee yet, then be my guest.”
The cell phone rang a second time. Vin sighed and took it from my hand.
“Yeah?” he said, holding the phone far enough from his ear so that I could listen in.
“Vin? Did you know you have Ezra’s phone?” Chris asked.
Smiling at me, Vin winked. “Do now. Y’know, we wouldn’t have this problem if you didn’t make us all get the same damn model.”
“Vin.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
Vin closed the phone and tossed it to me before lying back down.
I stared at my companion. “And what, pray tell, was that?!”
“Just figured I’d give Chris something to think about,” he said.
I really have no logical reason for what I did next, but, somehow, it seemed like an appropriate action.
Yanking the pillow out from underneath Vin’s head, I walloped him with it before leaping off the bed and racing toward the door.
The ensuing pillow fight ended when a flying tackle from Vin landed us on the living room floor in a tangle of limbs.
“Hey!” I cried, from underneath Vin. “Rule number eight: No projectiles in the living room!”
“I didn’t throw anything,” he said.
“You threw yourself at me,” I countered, gently shoving Vin off, “making your body a projectile.”
Vin propped himself up on an elbow and grinned at me. “You sure can be a pain in the ass, Ezra.”
I leaned in for a kiss. “I’ll show you a pain in the ass,” I muttered against his mouth, kissing him again.
A click, followed by a whirring noise, sounded in the kitchen. Moments later, the smell of premium, organic, free-trade coffee began wafting through the air.
I let my head loll back on the carpet. “Dear Lawd,” I said. “Is it that time already?”
“Yup,” Vin said. “Time to get up.”
I hugged him close to me, my nose nuzzling his neck. “No,” I said, sounding for all the world like a petulant three-year-old.
Vin chuckled. “C’mon, you’ve got to get to the courthouse.”
“I know. And you’ve got to get to work,” I added.
Giving me a squeeze, Vin said, “Don’t have to. You want me to come with you?”
“We spent all yesterday there,” I said. “I wouldn’t be going back if I wasn’t forcibly required to. There’s no need for you to waste any more time there.”
“I know the lawyers don’t need me,” he said. “I’m asking if you need me.”
Always, I thought, snuggling closer. Aloud I said, “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
I considered the testimony that Josiah and I would be giving later. I envisioned the exhibits that would be shown, the photos of all those bodies . . . I suppressed a shudder. “No, but I don’t want you to have to relive any more of that horror than you already do. Besides, it’s just me and Josiah there today, and he’s winding his way through the sutras again, so I should be able to get some work done. You should go to the office and attempt to do the same.”
“Fine. You and Josiah are meeting us up at the Saloon tonight, right?”
“I can’t speak for Josiah, but it will have been a long day. . . .”
Vin looked pointedly at me, his eyes locking with mine. “You’re coming, right?”
“I’ll do my best.”
It was as much of a promise as I could ever give; Vin knew that and never pushed for more, and I was always grateful to him for it.
We snuggled closer and lay entwined on the living room floor a few more moments.
“What about Chris?” Vin asked.
“What about him?” I replied, the phone incident of a short while ago already forgotten.
“If he asks what happened this morning,” Vin said. “I don’t want to lie.”
“And as long as Chris is sufficiently caffeinated, there’s no need to. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my coffee is getting cold.” I grabbed a pillow and gave Vin one more thump before climbing to my feet.
“Hey, what’s that?”
I looked at my weapon. “This? It’s my down pill-ah,” I said, exaggerating my accent.
Vin glowered at me. “That ain’t what you were hitting me with earlier.”
“Well, I’d hardly allow myself to be assaulted with that unforgiving hunk of memory foam you insist on using. Hey! Rule number eight!”
<><><><><><><>
I had Vin drop me off at the courthouse that morning and rode with Josiah to the Saloon that evening with the intention of taking a cab home. After the week I had just experienced, I planned on spending the weekend completely plastered.
We walked in to find Chris and Vin sitting at our table.
“Where are the others?” I asked, as Josiah and I sat down.
Chris made that face of his -- a mix of disbelief, disgust, and amusement -- and shook his head.
Vin piped up. “Nathan’s helping unstick Buck and JD.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “From what?”
“Each other,” Vin replied.
Josiah and I exchanged glances.
“The idiots super-glued their hands together,” Chris said.
“How?”
“They were trying to fix a mug.”
Deciding that I required a drink, I flagged down a waitress. Handing her my credit card, I said, “Go ahead and charge for a bottle of Jack. Just keep the shots coming.” I looked at my companions. “What is everyone else drinking?”
A short while later, after Nathan had freed Buck and JD from their sticky entrapment, the last three of our teammates joined us. I was diligently working my way through the bottle of whiskey, although many of my shots were mysteriously disappearing. I suspected that the others were taking advantage of my distracted mind to snatch a free drink. I let it slide mostly because Vin and JD were building a shot glass pyramid with the empties and I was curious to see how big it could get.
The pyramid collapsed about the same time I did. Buck and Vin dragged me outside to a waiting taxi and shoved me in the backseat. After Vin had crawled in next to me, I settled against him, my head pillowed on his shoulder.
“I’m not ready to go home,” I told him.
“Sure, Ez. Whatever you need.”
Before long, the taxi had let us out in Purgatorio and Vin was hauling me up the stairs to his apartment. We made our way to the bedroom where we fumbled out of our clothes. Well, I fumbled. Vin seemed fairly sober, which was fine considering that I was drunk enough for the both of us. We settled into bed, me fitting into the curve of Vin’s warm body.
“Need anything?” he asked.
“A beer?”
“Ezra, you try to put any more alcohol in your system and your liver’s gonna go on strike.”
“I highly doubt it,” I replied. “My family is rife with drunkards and we all die from cancer or heart attacks. My liver will be just fine, thank you very much.”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Vin sounded concerned.
“No.”
“Yeah? And why’s that?”
“I haven’t been able to forget yet.”
He hugged me closer. “Was testifying really that bad?”
“In a word: yes.”
“Alcohol’s never really gonna make you forget, you know that.”
I sighed. “Yes, I do. I was just hoping to dull the pain until I felt emotionally strong enough to process things.”
“I’m here for you, Ez. Anything you need, shoulder to cry on, sparring partner, whatever. I got your back.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. I imagine I’ll be inadvertently taking you up on the former in another few hours.” I yawned. “Perhaps I can take you up on the latter tomorrow.”
“You wanna hit the gym or just use pillows again?”
“Oh, that’s the type of sparring you were referring to.”
Vin chuckled. “Well, it don’t have to be the only type. . . .”
A somewhat random thought bubbled up to the forefront of my mind. “Did Chris ask about this morning?”
“Yep,” Vin said. “And I told him.”
“Well, what did he say?”
“That he’d like us to stop setting office equipment on fire, but he’s okay with us sleeping together.”
“Did you point out that we had absolutely no responsibility in the copier incident? And I don’t believe that we should be blamed for the microwave, either; that was on its last leg anyway.”
“Ezra?”
“Yes?”
“I love you, but you need to shut up and go to sleep.”
I considered this for a moment.
“That sounds reasonable,” I said, burrowing into my pillow. “Good night, Vin. Pleasant dreams.”
“You, too, Ez.”
I was already drifting off when Vin softly added, “And don’t worry if they aren’t. I’ll be here to wake you up.
Fin
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