(Sort of) follows Magic Man
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Disclaimer: Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide, CBS and TNN have all the rights. Ain't that a shame?
Comments: Once again, fairly light. These two are too fun to leave alone and they don't seem to want to be left alone, either. Keep reading, it gets to be just them soon enough.
Vin Tanner awakened, early as usual. He stretched slowly, muscles flexing, then bent over at the waist, his spine cracking loudly. A hand snaked out from under the duvet and grabbed at his nude backside, fingers pinching hard into the pale flesh."Geeze Chris, that hurts," he complained, rubbing at the reddened mark on his ass as he made his way into the bathroom.
"Well, don't stick it in my face next time, " Chris Larabee laughed, easing himself out of bed. "And don't use up all the hot water in there, I know what a precious commodity it seems to be in this rat-hole you call an apartment."
"Well hell, y' could join me, y'now, save water and time," Vin smiled feeling a cold draft enter the shower as the curtain was pulled open behind him. He bent down to grab the shampoo bottle, then jumped as his eyes came level with his lover's hard erection.
"Save time? I don't think so Vin."
+ + + + + + +
Ezra Standish was never early. He was not an early riser, never would be, never wanted to be. He flat-out hated the morning, hated being greeted by morning well-wishers, and particularly hated being greeted by them on Monday mornings. Especially dark, cold, wet Monday mornings. He grumbled to himself as he entered the federal building in downtown Denver. It was early. And he was never early.
"Good morning, Mr. Standish. Boy, it's awful early for you to be arriving, isn't it?"
"Why, yes," Ezra sneered back at Dennis, the morning-happy security guard, "I believe you are correct. It is awful."
He brushed past the man, mumbling a sort-of apology for being so rude and stumbled into the elevator, punching hard the number for his floor. His head was beginning to pound a beat in his brain. Oh, fabulous, just what he needed, a headache to top off the already miserable morning.
Entering the bullpen area of the offices, he grunted a hello to whomever might already be there and plopped heavily down at his desk behind the simulated wood panel that fronted his cubicle. He booted up his computer and stared unseeing at the screen saver, rubbing his temples and silently wishing he'd just gone back to bed.
+ + + + + + +
JD Dunne was whistling. Not that he could whistle well he'd admit, although he sounded no worse, certainly, than the noise Vin managed to blow out of his harmonica. He stood at the stove in his kitchen, spatula in hand as he pushed around scrambled eggs and sausage in a cast-iron skillet. He'd arisen earlier than was his custom and was happily cooking a hefty breakfast for himself and his roommate, Buck Wilmington, who was, at that precise moment, creeping down the stairs with a pronounced scowl marring his usually handsome features.
"JD? That you makin' that Godawful racket?" he bellowed as he entered the small kitchen.
"Racket? I'm whistling, Buck. It's not awful."
"That's your opinion," The large man slipped into a chair around the table, his eyebrows drawn down as he watched his young roommate.
"What in hell 're you doing?"
"Cooking breakfast, what's it look like?" JD grinned, proudly displaying the skillet full of meat and eggs.
"It's Monday, JD."
"Yeah, so?"
"So...it's Monday. I ain't...I ain't eatin' that on a Monday," Buck frowned, eyeing the happy young man holding the spatula. He was in no mood for happy. Especially on a Monday. Especially on this Monday. Opening the pantry, he pulled out a box of cereal, loudly slapping it and a bowl down on the formica countertop.
"Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning, Buck?" JD asked, watching his roommate aggressively throw open the refridgerator door in search of milk.
"Oh, way to put me off m' own breakfast, JD, thanks for the image...guess I'll pass on the cereal, now, too. I'm takin' my own truck, you can drive yerself into work today," he said, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and shoving open the back door.
JD stood, pan in hand, as he watched the dark cloud that was his roommate storm out the door of the small kitchen. He glanced down at the cooling sausage and eggs, grabbed a fork and took a hefty bite as he mumbled to himself, "Geeze, what a grouch."
+ + + + + + +
Josiah Sanchez and Nathan Jackson sat in the latter's SUV, both anxiously watching the door to a semi-delapidated apartment building.
"What the hell's he doin' takin' so long?" Nathan asked aloud.
Josiah chuckled, "Sayin' goodbye to Vin, pro'bly."
Nathan smiled, shaking his head, "Yeah, hard to believe two such hard-headed men would find happiness in each other's arms, why, I bet right now-"
"Nathan?" Josiah intervened, "I love 'em both, but don't really want t' be ridin' around with any more images in m' head than I got already, comprende?"
+ + + + + + +
"Hurry up, Vin, they're waiting on me downstairs as it is!" Chris yelled, glancing at his watch and wishing Vin would move it along. He stared as the young man came strolling out of the bedroom.
"What's that?"
"What's what?" Vin asked, turning around to see what had caught his lover's eye.
"That," Chris pointed, his finger targeting Vin's chest.
"What? I don't see nothin'," Vin looked down at his shirt, checking for anything out of the ordinary.
"No, Vin. I mean, what the hell's that thing you're wearing? You're not going on some undercover assignment I don't know about, are you?"
Vin eyed him suspiciously, " No-o-o." He fingered the front of his denim shirt, his hand resting protectively on his own chest. "What. You don't like my shirt?"
"Look, I'm not the one to tell you how to dress-"
"But you're goin' to, ain't ya, Ezra?" Vin scowled.
"Vin, it's just...well, what color would you call that anyway?"
"How 'bout blue." Vin smoothed the sleeve of his faded denim shirt. His favorite denim shirt.
"How 'bout was blue at one time, now it's some kind of greyish, non-color. Shit, Vin, y' got a rip in the elbow and looks like y' missed a few buttons there," Chris ran his finger down Vin's chest.
"Nope. Not missed buttons, more like missing buttons. They fell off 'n', well, I ain't that great with a needle an' thread or nothin'. Anyhow, I like this shirt, it's...comfortable."
"It's ripped."
"Only on the one elbow," Vin said defensively, snatching his arm back from Chris' grip.
"Look at it, Vin. The collar's coming apart, the pocket's hanging and what the hell's that stain all over the bottom?"
"Oh, you 'member...that's from when it caught on fire that time at the ranch, when you's cookin' out back and-"
"Yeah, I remember. I thought you'd thrown the thing away after that."
"Nah, this my lucky shirt. It only got burned on the bottom, an' I cut most o' that part off. The brown's just the part got scorched, I can still wear it, though."
"Okay, fine...but why have you decided to wear it to the office? I've never seen you with it since that barbecue."
'Well, I figured since you, Nathan and Josiah was all leavin' t' go t' that conference, I'd go 'head an' clean out that storeroom we got down in the basement of the office building. You said yerself it's so full o' shit it'd be anybody's guess what alls in there, so I figure I got t' wear somethin' comfortable. An' this is the most comfortable I know. Ain't no one gonna see me, even if they do, who cares, I'm cleanin' crew t'day."
"Hmmm, yeah, okay, it would be nice to get that space cleared out, some of that stuff's gotta be years old. Listen, anything you don't know what to do with, just box up and I'll go through it later. And get JD to help you, he shouldn't have a whole lot of other things to do today, and this way I know you two aren't gonna be goofin' off with me out of sight."
"Hey, I'd never do that!"
"No, never," Chris grinned as he grabbed Vin and pulled him into a strong embrace.
"Goofin' off, that'd be Buck an' Ez's job, I think," Vin said, running his tongue over his own lips.
"Gimme some o' that," Chris demanded, firmly pressing his mouth onto the moistened one facing him.
"Take it, take all ya want. Think we got time for a quick f-," Vin's sentence was cut short by the repeated blast of a truck's horn.
"Ahh, that would be a 'no'," Chris said, giving his lover a last kiss as he headed out the door.
Vin reluctantly let him leave, then moved to the window to watch as the white SUV drove away. He sighed happily, grabbed his jacket and keys and left for the office, humming all the way.
+ + + + + + +
Buck stumbled into the office, tripping over the doorjamb as he entered and spilling most of the contents of his extra-large convenience store-bought coffee onto his tan slacks.
"Goddammit," he yelled as he wrestled the paper cup back to an upright positio n.
Ezra's head popped above his cubicle.
"Oh, it's you. I should've known the thunderous melee was a result of you having arrived. For a moment I thought perhaps a baboon had escaped from the zoo and was in here wreaking havoc. But no, not a baboon. Just a buffoon."
His head lowered to disappear behind the cubicle.
"Well, hell Ez-"
"Buck. There you are, you left your wallet at home, here, catch," JD entered the office, cutting Buck off in mid-sentence and quickly tossed him the black leather item.
"Oh, thanks Kid," he said, turning toward his own desk area. He deposited his jacket, then hurried off to the cantina.
"Hey Ez," JD called out toward the simulated wood paneling. He stared, waiting for a response. "Ezra? You back there?"
Again, the head appeared above the partition.
"Greetings JD."
"Morning, Ezra, awfully early for you," JD smiled back. His gaze shifted as Vin entered the office, a white box in each hand.
"Vin. You brought doughnuts. Cool."
"Yeah, JD. Hey, Ezra, here awful early ain'tcha?" Vin nodded a greeting, placing each box on his desk, then throwing his jacket onto his chair. "Got jelly ones, JD. And them fancy twisted things y'like, Ezra. I'm gonna go get me a coffee, anyone else want one?"
"Nah, thanks. Brought mine from home," JD answered, grabbing two sugar-covered jelly doughnuts. He bit largely into one, a gob of red jelly oozing out the other end into his hand. "Grab some paper towels, will ya?"
Vin nodded, then made his way into the cantina. The coffee pot was sitting empty, still clean from its last use before the weekend.
"Good, guess I'm makin' coffee," Vin said aloud, smiling to himself. None of the others made it the way he preferred. He turned, reaching for the light switch, stopping short when he noticed the large man seated in the corner at the table.
"Shit, Buck. Didn't even see you when I came in. What ya doin' sitting here in the dark?'
"Headache."
Vin looked at him, expecting more words to follow and when they didn't, just shrugged his shoulders, "'Kay. Well, look, I'm just gonna finish makin' coffee, then, if ya want, I could rustle y' up some aspirin or somethin'."
"Nahhh..."
Vin nodded. He turned back to the coffee, finished its preparation and left, shutting off the light as he did.
TWO
Buck sat in the dark, rubbing his tired eyes and wishing he could be anywhere but at the office. Anywhere but where he didn't have to sit within yards of that man. That incredible, beautiful, aggravating man. He sighed. He sensed the light turning on again, and spoke without opening his eyes.
"JD, turn that thing off. I'm sittin' in the dark 'cause I got a headache and I don't want-"
"It isn't JD."
Buck's eyes flew open.
"Ezra."
Ezra glanced slowly around the small kitchen, then back to the man seated.
"Why, yes, Mr. Wilmington. It appears you are correct. My heavens, I am Ezra. You, sir, win the prize." He poured a large amount of steaming coffee into a mug.
"Ez, I-"
"Ooops, eeennnhhh," Ezra made a buzzer-like sound, "I'm sorry, apologies are no longer being accepted at this juncture."
"Apology? What are you talkin' about, Ezra? I wasn't about to apologize for anything, Hell, I'm still waitin' for you to say something to me!"
"Oh really? And pray tell, what would that be?"
"How 'bout, 'Geeze, Buck, I sure am sorry.' How 'bout that?" Buck stood, his headache pounding as the blood rushed to his face.
"I"m sorry? I'm sorry?"
"Well, yeah, thanks. It's about time y' admitted that, Ez," Buck cut in quickly.
Ezra fumed, "I make no admission to that! I am not sorry one iota for anything...I have no reason to offer you an apology, I, unlike yourself, have committed no transgression, therefore, I do not apologize. YOU, on the other hand-"
"I what? What th' hell you tryin' t' say here, Ezra? That-"
"I'm not trying to say anything, I am stating, however, that you, Buck Wilmington, need portray to me at least some semblance of remorse on your part."
Buck gaped. "What? You can't possibly think that I have done anything that needs sayin' I'm sorry-unless you count me yellin' at the kid this mornin'. Now JD, that's who I owe an apology."
"And I accept, Buck," JD grinned as he entered the small kitchen. His smile faded somewhat as he sensed a change in the room's atmosphere. He dumped his now cold coffee into the sink and poured a hefty amount from the new pot sitting on its burner. Glancing at the two men he quickly grabbed the milk from the 'fridge and poured a large amount into the steaming liquid.
"Guess, I'll go back to my desk now," he said softly, hurrying from the room.
"Hey, JD," Vin said, rising from his desk. "Sorry, I was gonna get you coffee, an' I completely forgot 'bout it. I'll go get me some, too-" "Oh, you may want to wait a sec, Vin. Ezra and Buck look like they're arguin' or something in there."
"Really? Guess, I'll just have to sneak in, sneak out, then, huh?" He grabbed his stained mug and headed back toward the cantina.
After hearing no raised voices, he entered, noticing, too, the charged air. He beelined to the coffee-maker and poured a mug full. He could feel eyes on his back.
"Nice shirt, Vin," Buck snickered.
Vin grinned and turned to the tall man, "That's just what I thought when I picked it out this morning, Bucklin."
"It's a lovely shirt."
"What?" Buck and Vin said simultaneously, turning to the man at the counter.
"I said, it is a lovely shirt. Wonderful color there."
Buck sneered as he faced Ezra, "You like it so much, why don't get one just like it?"
"I may. Vin? Just where did you purchase such an exotic garment? I feel the need to acquire one for my own."
Vin was staring at the front of his faded shirt. Did Ezra just say he liked it?
"Oh, come off it Ezra. You ain't never worn anything like that in your whole life. You wouldn't be caught dead, " Buck said, shaking his head.
Ezra grinned defiantly, "You, Mr. Wilmington, know nothing. The amount of knowledge you perceive to have retained regarding my personal tastes and desires, amounts to exactly...squat."
Buck turned to Vin, who was looking at the two men as though he'd never seen either one before. He pointed to the younger man's chest, his finger brushing lightly at the torn pocket.
"You can't tell me that you find this rag he's wearing to be a decent shirt. Even if it weren't coming apart at the seams, you'd never wear anything like that, so don't bullshit me, Ezra."
Ezra walked up to Vin, grabbing his arm and plucking at the sleeve.
"How wrong you are, Mr. Wilmington."
"Stop callling me by my last name, Ezzzzra," Buck growled.
Vin was blinking at the both of them.
"It's Ezra. One Z. Now, ss I was saying, Vin, before I was so rudely interrupted, was, I find this shirt to be truly unique. An absolute find, as it were," Ezra beamed at Vin, who was trying to look at his shirt through new eyes. "I mean, this color is phenomenal, never have I seen anything quite like it. And how did you get this two-toned detailing here along the shirttail?"
Vin looked at Ezra, "It...it caught on fire."
Buck rolled his eyes.
"Well, I for one," Ezra continued, "find this to be quite an exquisite garment of almost designer quality. Why, I've seen versions of this hanging in some of the finest -"
"You are so full of it, Ezra," Buck cut-in, "You're only saying these things 'bout this shitty-lookin' shirt 'cause I laughed at it, if I'da said I liked it, you'd say it was shit. Don't listen to him, Vin. Yer shirt's a piece of crap and we all know it. 'Cluding him. He's just sore at me."
"Sore at you?" Ezra dropped Vin's arm as he stepped closer to the tall man, "You think I'm sore at you. Good Lord, Buck, you know less than nothing of me. How sad, how pathetically sad."
"I know you a hell of a lot more'n you think I do. And I ain't just talkin' about-," he stopped, glancing over at Vin, who stood silently, examining the sleeve of his shirt. "Oh for God's sake, Vin, Ezra's just feeding you a bunch of bull about your damn shirt. It's a rag."
"Hell Buck, I know that. I'm just trying to figure out how I managed to get red jelly from JD's doughnut all over the cuff," Vin said, grabbing a wad of paper towels and heading for the door. "I ain't too sure what y'all 're fightin' about, but I know it ain't this shirt."
"Yes, Mr. Wilmington, what are we fighting about?"
"Ezra, I swear, you just get that tone in your voice makes me wanna..."
"Want to what? Yell? Scream? Inflict upon me some sort of bodily harm?"
"How 'bout this, instead?" Buck said, reaching out and grabbing the slighter man by the arm, pulling him into a firm embrace. He planted his lips on Ezra's, lightly at first, then more intensly, as he felt the warm response.
But Ezra pushed away, breaking the hold, and with a sigh, asked, "What is it you want, Buck?"
"I thought that was pretty clear," Buck grinned.
Ezra crossed his arms, his lower back resting on the counter behind him and his eyes fixed on the glass container of hot coffee. He remained silent for a few seconds.
"Where were you?" he whispered, his eyes drifting slowly up to meet and hold the gaze of the other man's.
"Whaddaya mean, where was I? Where were you?"
"I'm not sure to what you're referring. And I abhor that kind of response, really, answering a question with a question. It's...irritating."
"Is that what I am to you, an irritation?"
Ezra stared at the man, not answering. His brain lined up several acerbic retorts, yet he remained silent. "I waited for you," he whispered.
"What?"
"I said, I waited for you, Buck," Ezra repeated, flatly.
"Waited? Where?" Buck was confused, "When? Saturday?"
"Yes, Saturday. Of course, Saturday. We were supposed to meet for dinner and... And you never bothered to make an appearance, certainly never bothered to inform me of your obvious change in plans. And I...I waited. You...never showed up, Buck. Of course, you know that. God, I feel like an imbecile. I always knew in the deep recesses of my mind that this ridiculous attempt at a relationship was complete lunacy, at best. I know better, I truly do."
"What are you saying? That you don't want to be with me? You think you got stood up and that's that? Don't I get a say, don't I get a chance to ask you anything?" Buck's voice was starting to rise in volume as his anger resumed.
"Ask me? What could you possibly want to inquire of me? Really, Buck, had you another opportunity that presented itself, one you couldn't possibly forego or did you just prematurely tire of the whole notion of a monogamous relationship before it even commenced? Or perhaps you've forgotten that little declaration you made to me, it being so long ago. When was that?...hmmm, last weekend, I believe?"
"Y'now, you assume a whole helluva lot, there, Ezra. Just who stood who up, anyway?"
"Whom."
"What?"
"Who-oh, never mind. I pray continue, Buck, enlighten me. Precisely when did I neglect an invitation of yours, thereby leaving you to dine in solitude as you did me?"
"Saturday night."
"Saturday? This past Saturday? I think not, my friend. And I invited you, remember? Or has that, too, been filed away into your conveniently selective memory. I most certainly did not stand you up this past Saturday, or any other, for that matter. Nor would I, it's a terribly reprehensible action."
"Oh yeah? Would you care to wager you haven't? You bein' so sure of yerself and all. Hell, Ezra, y' think I don't know when I sit and wait for someone who never shows, never bothers to call? Shit, I got a cell phone, you got a cell phone, how hard is it to use it, hunh? I don't get what you're talkin' about, but I know I sat in that bar in that damned fancy-shmancy place for close t' hour an' a half waitin' on you. Got worried, somethin' might o' happened to ya, even. Called yer phone but I just got that no service recording. I even-"
"What are you saying?" Ezra had moved closer, unsure of the thoughts running through his head. How could Buck have been there? "I sat there, Buck, waiting for you. YOU never showed."
Buck shook his head. Maybe this was a mistake, trying to start a relationship with someone he partnered with professionally. "I was there, Ezra."
"How can you say that? You weren't there. I never saw you," Ezra felt his anger waning with each reiteration. This was going nowhere. Now he just wanted to go home, forget he'd ever accepted the man's initial advances.
Buck looked at him, the confused expression fading as his eyes sparked with renewed anger.
"Well, I saw you. At your condo. After you never showed up, and I couldn't get a hold of you, I drove over t' yer place."
"And? If you knew I was home, why didn't you come up?" Ezra was becoming somewhat annoyed. He didn't know what to believe. Buck couldn't have possibly been at the restaurant, he would have seen him.
"You were busy."
"Excuse me?"
"I saw you, Ezra. With her."
"And this "her" might be...?"
"I assume she was your date for the evening."
Ezra stared at the man. He was tiring of whatever game Buck was trying to play.
"Fine, Buck. She was my date. After you never showed, I got bored, so I picked up the nearest hot woman. Her husband and three kids didn't mind. We went back to my place, had wild sex, then her family, who was waiting in their van in the parking lot, took her home. It was quite the evening, you should've been there."
"Bet you think that's real funny, don't you?"
"No, I think my sense of humor has been deadened by this whole conversation," Ezra added. His headache was becoming fairly intense and he rubbed at the back of his neck.
"She...she was a redhead. Never figured you for the red-haired type."
"Red-head? Buck, for God's sake, that was my mother."
Buck glared into the green eyes before him, "Hell, Ezra, y' really think I'm an idiot, don't you? I know what Maude looks like, or have you forgotten? She's got blonde hair, not red."
"Not this week, she hasn't. I informed her she resembled an ambulatory carrot with that frightening color."
"Well, it was kinda orange, now you mention it...But, what's she doing here, if that was Maude you were with?" Buck wasn't sure he'd buy into this explanation, just yet. And it still didn't explain the man's whereabouts earlier.
"She'd arrived unexpectantly late Friday evening and called to ask if I had plans Saturday. I told her, yes, I had an engagement. But when you failed to arrive at 'Two Pheasant' I phoned her and we met for a late dinner, then I drove her back to my condo where she stayed last night. She had a very early flight out this morning and I gave her a ride, then arrived here. Believe me, that is the only reason I found myself seated at my desk at such an ungodly hour."
"What...what did you say?"
"Good Lord, Buck, if you aren't interested in even listening..."
"No, it ain't that. I mean, what was the name of the restaurant you mentioned a minute ago?"
"You mean, 'Two Pheasant'? How quickly you forget, that is where you were supposed to have joined me for dinner."
"No, I was supposed to meet you at 'Two Quail'. That fancy place on Morgan Circle."
Ezra stared at Buck, "No. That's their sister restaurant, just opened a few months ago. I like the older one, 'Two Pheasant', it has more atmosphere. You were supposesd to be there."
The two men were silent, an explanation now surfacing. They both sighed, relaxing back in their chairs. Buck's fingers crept slowly over to Ezra's. Their hands intertwined, palms warming with the contact.
"Hell, Ezra. Never did think you'd go for a tall redhead woman," Buck laughed.
"No," he agreed, "I tend toward tall, dark...idiots mostly."
Buck nodded his head, "You want t' try it again this Saturday, then? Somewhere fancy?"
"Only if I can borrow Vin's designer shirt," Ezra grinned.
"Oooh, don't know I'd be able t' be seen with ya then, pard, that thing'll put you in a whole 'nother league."
"Isn't that the truth," Ezra smiled happily, "So, care to join me for lunch, Mr. Wilmington?"
Buck smiled, "Absolutely, long as we both know where we're heading."
End, for now.
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