We have tried to reach Heather F, but have not gotten any replies. This story has been rescued. Since Lady Angel's Library (now M7FC) was already hosting some of Heather's other stories, we assumed implied permission to host this one as well. If you know how to reach the author, please ask her to contact us.
Disclaimers: not mine, no money made...(such
a sad pitiful truth)
Warnings: Way too much time at
airports..English/spelling etc.
Spoilers: No
Part 1
The plane dipped in its gradual descent. Stomachs dropped with old familiarity as
bodies were pressed slightly forward.
Most passengers never recognized or acknowledged the minute changes in
pressure and movement. They continued
their conversations, finished small ice laden drinks and pushed food wrappers
and plastic utensils out of the way. The
plane started its slow descent into
One man did recognize the near imperceptible
changes. Noticed them and groaned. A swollen purple black eye refused to open
completely. Cut, puffy, lips threaten to
split under the inconsistent contact with the tip of his curious tongue. Ribs and muscles complained with even the
slightest flexion or extension. Shifting
one's position in the airplane seat had become monumental and painful.
His discomfort did not go unnoticed by the
Stewardess. At the sudden paling
features, and resigned closing of one eye, the Stewardess stepped forward
cautiously and squatted beside the passenger's seat. He occupied the window seat in a row by
himself. He had the flight crew to thank
for that little courtesy.
"Sir? Are you alright?"
He opened his one cooperative eye. Not that it too had not received some damage
but at least it opened and focused properly.
The light green iris had stood out against solid red sclera.
Was he alright? No...not alright. Alright would indicate that physically he
could move about with out undue discomfort or pain....Alright would indicate
that perhaps he looked forward to landing in Denver and facing the Piper so to
speak. Alright would some how entail a miraculous change in his mindset.
No Alright did not seem to apply to him, not
now, not for a while...fourteen days at least.
Today consisted of multiple delays, a mind numbing wait at the Terminal
Gate with prying eyes and blatant stares, sitting for over an hour on the plane
due to electrical complications, the deck remained stacked against him for too
long. Even the weather conspired against
him. The cold drizzle that saturated the
area managed to envelope him settling heavily on his shoulders.
Yet these things only paled in comparison to
the events that had brought him to this numbered seat, identical to the hundred
that surrounded him. Events that had led
him fourteen days ago to hastily take this undercover assignment. A rash decision had been made with undue
haste, had led to a Thanksgiving hospital stay with no visitors. No ones fault per se but his own. He had told no one of his incarceration into
the hands of medical fiends...but then who would he tell?
He smiled slightly, folding a swollen cheek
and losing a dimple within the bruised damage.
The bottom lip split on the inside with a short sharp pain. Blood tinged his tongue. The coppery taste,
though familiar, increased the nauseous unease that threatened his stomach.
"Yes, I'm fine." The southern drawl
sounded roughened, tired. Perhaps as
worn and beaten as the man who spoke them.
Fine...Yes, he was fine...perhaps even better
should the plane just continue on its way and miss Denver altogether. That, however, would not cure or fill the
hollow feeling that threatened to consume him.
He had run enough in his life time to know that no matter how far the
distance, no matter the barriers put in place, nothing could fill the hollowness
that came with disappointment, shame and perhaps knowing one had been
foolish. No distance, or hiding spot, would be enough. It would only
take that one stray thought, one
misguided remembrance to send one's gut crashing to their feet. Averse memories
and sensations would leap acutely to the fore front, unbidden and unwanted. The
pain would flair from there. The self loathing and self disgust always traveled
hand and hand and seemed forever tethered to unpredictable memories. Nothing but a failing memory could protect
the inflicted.
Skipping over
The Stewardess allowed a sad, understanding
smile to crease her face. There was nothing she could do for him...nothing any
of them could do for the passenger, but perhaps hope the landing would go
smoothly. Six hours late for their
scheduled arrival...it was the least they could do.
Pain medication sat untouched in his bag in
the overhead bin. He still had to drive
home. The very thought had him closing
his eyes. A standard, high, powered
beast deserved better handling and soft touches of a healthy torso and
legs...not the harsh stutter movements of one too damaged to appreciate the
car's gift. The pain medication would
have to wait. Perhaps once home, he
could dull the sharp incessant twinges of damaged muscles as well as dull the
ache that settled so profoundly in his heart.
Six hours earlier
Buck and JD paused in their wrestling match
for Ultimate Domination of the space between their desks.
Vin stopped shooting paper 'football's into
the waste basket that sat on Standish's empty chair behind the desk across from
Vin's. The plastic covered computer
monitor on the Undercover agent's desk proved to be a challenging obstacle.
Josiah put his herbal tea down and occupied
his hands with his small pocket knife instead.
The sudden mood swing in Larabee prevented the Profiler from enjoying
his drink.
"He hurt bad?" The resigned tone of Larabee's voice crashed
the sudden immobility of the others.
Again he nodded. Buck pushed JD back into his seat. Vin put his pencil down and stared at Larabee
who leaned against the doorway of his office.
Josiah sighed almost as tiredly as
"We'll take care of it,"
Larabee gazed up at his team. It did not surprise him that he had garnered
their attention. He surveyed them one by
one. Reading their own frowns of worry
and concern. JD came across the
easiest, next to Buck.
"Vin, I want you at the airport to drive
Ezra home," Larabee swung his gaze
to the Ladies Man, "Buck you drive him over...plane should be landing any
time."
"Sure," Buck stood from his desk, "you gonna
tell us what happened?"
"Bust went sour."
Buck pushed himself to his feet gathering his
coat, "Lets go Junior,"
"Brother Vin?" Josiah's soft voice forced the duo to
pause. Buck and Tanner both turned and
faced the profiler, "see if you can't convince him to join us at Inez's."
Tanner nodded, trying to read what tumbled
through Sanchez's mind. The sharpshooter
shrugged and headed down the hall.
Josiah's thoughts probably formed in parables, it wouldn't do much good
to read his mind even if Vin could.
"Buck you going to make it to Inez's in
time to play Fredricks?" JD leaned
back in his chair peering at his older roommate from over his shoulder. He loved baiting Buck.
"I'll be there,"
"Common Buck," Vin's lazy drawl
traveled unhurried down the corridor.
Buck started to disappear down the hall still
talking, "JD, you tell Fredricks ole Buck ain't afraid of nuthin' and I'll
mop the pool table with his cocky hide."
Dunne merely nodded in disbelief. Fredricks, the security guard at the main
door, grew up in a house with a professional billiard player for a father. A little known fact that JD discovered just a
few days ago. Discovered and kept
quiet. He would make a few dollars off
of Buck tonight. JD didn't bother hiding
his smile.
The young ATF agent checked the wall clock
again. Five minutes to five. Buck could get Vin to the airport and be at
the saloon in just under an hour barring any major traffic delays. Yup JD planned on making a profit...just like
Ezra had been coaching him. JD paused in thought. It had been almost a month since he had
really seen Ez. Those few minutes two
weeks ago really didn't count since JD hadn't a chance to talk to the man.
Yesterdays’ Thanksgiving dinner at
~~~~~~
The airport buzzed with human traffic.
Vin stood leaning against the wall near
Security. The gates were off limits to non ticketed persons. The sharpshooter did not bother checking the
over hanging monitors. The flight had
been delayed. He had wandered through
all the book stores, ate his fill of over priced airport food and had
overflowed his quota on crowds.
Figures...damn flights been delayed for the last six hours......
The crowds had thinned out. Then again the
A scattering of people shuffled by, some
shifting and hiking shoulder bags to a more comfortable position only to have
the straps settle back to their original position. Others strolled by wheeling
bags on self collapsing cases. Everyone
had a place to be and from the dogged pace of the late evening no one seemed to
care. A sharp contrast to the earlier
crowds. The masses between 5 and 8 pushed,
shouldered and hurried their way passed their fellow man in a rush to be
somewhere. The five to eight crowd
darted eyes from over hanging clocks to rotated wrists. Time seemed to be of
the utmost importance. Some travelers
had practically jogged, others had walked briskly and still others had craned
their heads and necks left and right searching for something in a direction
opposite to where their feet had lead them.
Tanner had stood back from the area at those
times. Ezra's flight had been "Delayed". CNN still droned on with the same news it had
for the last six hours. The
entertainment news offered nothing of interest.
Now, at
The Security screeners, by nine-thirty pm,
had approached Tanner and questioned him. After producing his badge, a friendly
smile and easy explanation they left him alone.
With one leg crossed over the other, Tanner
leaned against the wall watching the empty corridor that led to the gates.
He had phoned
Vin could hear Josiah speaking in the
background but the din of Inez's saloon drowned out the questions.
Now with nearly six hours of waiting under
his belt, Tanner began to wonder what bothered Sanchez. Perhaps it was the amount of time that had
passed since they had last saw Standish.
Ezra had looked good that morning. The undercover agent had dropped by
just before the others had pulled out for their camping trip. It had surprised the rest of them. Ezra had
not suppose to be back for another week.
He had sounded busy perhaps but the man thrived on working undercover.
The camping trip had been a bust. Ezra had been lucky to have missed it. Hell, Vin wished he could have been TDY'd for
the last 2 weeks. Though the camping
trip pretty much headed South from the get go, things evened out before
Thanksgiving rolled around. They had a week
to forget about their group vacation before the big feast. And they did.
It seemed the only ones who had any real fun on the trip were Nathan and
Rain...JD and Casey did ok for themselves too but young Billy Travis dogged
those two all day and all night. Tanner
couldn't help but chuckle when Buck labeled Billy a walking contraceptive. JD and Casey never had a moment alone. Unfortunately, Mary had over heard the
comment and ripped into
The only thing they were missing was Ezra and
his normal complaints. Hell, Vin would
gladly take Ezra's belly aching about crawling insects, lack of in-door
plumbing and fine restaurants any day over the hell they had endured two weeks
ago.
Tanner quickly shook off the memories. Next camping trip would only be for a short
not a long weekend and the girl friends might have to stay home. Or at least screened.
The sharpshooter pushed himself off the wall
when he noticed weary travelers dragging their bags and themselves down the
once deserted corridor.
The flight had arrived.
~~~~~~
Ezra remained seated. The moment the plane stopped people stood as
one. Seat belts had been unclicked and
discarded long before the plane reached the gate or the seat belt sign blinked
off. With the plane braked beside the
gate, people hurried into action. Bodies
twisted and arms reached over head, snapping open over head bins. Passengers grabbed for bags and coats, others
stretched with thankful smiles and grateful hands when someone handed them a
bag just out of reach.
Like a lumbering sea serpent slinking from
cold lightless depths, the line slowly shimmied and moved its way out through
the exit hatch and into the
Ezra remained seated until the Stewardess
once again leaned across his row, "Sir?" She forced a smile though the concern seemed
genuine in her eyes, "we have landed." A polite but recognizable request. 'Get off the plane'.
No more delaying it. With great difficulty and a mingling of
reluctance and relief to have landed, Standish made his way down the abandoned
aisle and out the door.
The ramp angled upslope. Subtle and certainly
not taxing to the average citizen.
Bruised back muscles and abused legs complained and burned with each
step. He carried no luggage. Everything had been stowed under the
plane. Getting the luggage off the
carousel would be an interesting challenge. Perhaps he could bribe a person to
retrieve his bags. It would be money
well spent.
Standish emerged from the gate and scanned
the area. No one stood waiting for
passengers. Times and current events
prevented such foolishness. With a limp
and a shuffled step, he followed the throng of people that seemed dwarfed in
the now near abandoned airport. Funny
but the corridors and passage ways never appeared so spacious as it did now in
the dead of night.
He followed the droves and headed toward the
main terminal toward the escalators that would whisk him away in their own
unhurried fashion to the baggage carousel.
One step closer to his apartment.
~~~~~~
Vin watched with rising impatience at the
people that flocked passed him. Did the
damn fool take another flight?
Tanner leaned back against the wall with his
arms crossed. He watched as people
strode passed him lugging their bags.
The sharpshooter couldn't help but wonder what people deemed so
necessary that they needed that much luggage?
Vin began to worry when a lull hit. After the large influx of people, a few
trickled by and then nothing. A few more
appeared in small groups of threes or fours and then nothing until the next
bunch.
Tanner pulled his cell phone from his coat
with the intention of phoning Larabee when a lone person trudged wearily from
around the security station.
"Aw shit," the soft mumble had
become lost in the vast near empty space of the main terminal. The ex-bounty hunter took a step forward and
then paused. All thoughts of going to Inez's
slid down the drain.
Standish was a mess. A fight...dang it looked as if someone had
used his face to pound nails.
The sharpshooter waited until the undercover
agent was nearly upon him, " 'Ey Ez,"
The soft greeting landed on deaf ears. Standish limped passed, his obviously one
good eye on the far side of Tanner.
" 'Ey Ez," Vin reached out and gently latched onto the
passing shoulder.
Standish stopped and gazed up. The undercover agent turned his head enough
to notice Tanner standing right beside him.
"Excuse me Mr. Tanner, I did not see you
standing there," For a brief moment
Ezra felt his mind-set improve. Recognizing someone in a sea of strangers some
how uplifted dampening spirits.
Something about having someone meet you at the airport after a tiring
journey just seemed to lighten the mood.
Reality, though, came crashing down quickly in its wake. No one could
have known when he intended to fly back.
Mr. Tanner was here for another reason.
A niggling of hope, however, still smoldered deep inside under a
stockpile of hurts.
"S'Ok Ez," Vin smiled half heartily, "Dang you look
like shit."
"Thank you for the kind
reminder," Ezra curiously peered
around, "are one of our compatriots off on a trip somewhere?" Why was Mr. Tanner at the airport at this
time? "Mr. Larabee get called off to another meeting?" Ezra didn't see anyone else.
Vin shook his head. Perhaps Standish got hit
harder on the head than it looked.
Puzzled, Ezra furrowed his brow, "Yes,
well, it was nice seeing you Mr. Tanner,"
Standish side stepped Vin and slowly made his way toward the ever
running escalators. He still had baggage
to claim after all...and if he were too late there would be no one around he
could influence to retrieve his luggage for him.
"Whoa, Ez wait up," The tracker took a few normal strides and
closed the gape. What the hell?
"How can I help you Mr.
Tanner?" Ezra didn't mean to come
across crass or impatient but everything hurt, exhaustion dragged on him and he
still had a ways to go before reaching his destination. Besides to learn that Vin was here to see off
one of the others or perhaps meet someone else was an extra blow Ezra did not
want to deal with at the moment.
"Nothin' pard'," Vin stared at the
undercover agent curiously. What had
Josiah been afraid of? Damn him and his
round about meandering convoluted ways.
Dang it, if you know something ya should jist come out and say it.
"Very well," Ezra slid his arm once again out of Vin's
grasp and headed for the still moving escalators.
"Ez ya idiot," Tanner quickly stepped beside Standish and
matched his haltering pace, "I'm here to get you," The light chuckle thinly veiled the concern
in the voice.
"Whatever for?" Someone came to meet him?...meet him...waited
six hours to drive him home...wasted a Friday night at an airport just to greet
him? Of all the times he had traveled in
his life, none had ever shown the patience or tenacity of his team mate. No one had ever waited. A crooked smile threatened to split a
lip.
" O'Donahue called this afternoon
thought it'd be best if someone met ya and got you home," Tanner stared at Standish starting at his
shoes and traveling up to the bruised features, "he had it right...yer a
mess."
"He spoke with Mr. Larabee?" a tinge of worry laced the words. Ahh perhaps the reprimand....An escort to
ensure that he did not run out on his responsibilities. Things began to make sense. The familiar knot if dread settled heavily in
his gut.
"Yeah," Vin stepped a side and allowed Standish to
step onto the escalator. The handrails
suddenly seemed like a very good idea.
Ezra's sense of balance suffered under the moving steps. The agent hid it well enough by leaning
slightly against the rail. Tanner didn't
miss it.
Ezra wanted nothing more than to ask what
else O'Donahue had to say but feared to tip his hand or appear concerned. The wreck of a bust was not his, Ezra
Standish's, fault but it certainly wouldn't be above others to try and pin it
on him...especially with him being from out of town. No back up so to speak.
"He didn't say much, jist thought you'd
need a ride," Tanner could almost
see the tension waving off the man standing with his back to him. Damn escalators ran too slow.
They reached the ground floor and the baggage
carousel. They had the dubious honor of
being the only two left. Vin simply
reached down and snatched the two remaining bags. Ezra was grudgingly thankful for the help.
~~~~~~~
The two walked quietly toward the car. The Jag sat under the direct scrutiny of a
security camera. Normally, Ezra would
never have taken the Jag and parked it for any amount of time in a public
facility but this time no one had been around to drive him.
"Ya keys?" Vin held out his hand
and patiently waited as Ezra paused a few yards from the car and gingerly dug
through his pants pocket.
The last time Vin had seen Ezra was two weeks
ago and only briefly. The time before
that nearly three weeks.
Everyone had kind of paused. Thank God he was dressed in his four figure
suit. No one had expected him back.
Even now Vin could still feel the tightness
in his gut when Ezra stepped out of that car all smiles and full of shit. When Tanner had laid eyes on that suit he
nearly whooped for joy.
The trucks were loaded to capacity. Billy was gonna be ridin' Chaucer.
And they had.
Ezra's phone must have rung cuz suddenly he had it in his hand and
flipped open and talking on it. He had
turned his back to them and had put his hand over his ear as if to drown out
the rough gurgling sounds of rumbling diesel engines. Pretty soon he had been nodding his head and
agreeing to something. Then the phone
had been snapped shut and he was facing the group with his shit eating grin and
out stretched hand. He had wished them
luck on their trip but had to go....another call out.
He had waved from the open window as he
peeled down the driveway spitting dust.
Josiah had leaned against the back of one of
the trailers with his eyes closed as if something had pained him.
Billy had stopped crying and people scrambled
into trucks. Things just had a way of
working out.
~~~~~
Vin shook off the memories and hefted
Standish's shoulder bag holding out his hand expectantly. The quiet jingle of keys and their cool touch
in his outstretched palm had him smiling.
He loved to drive the Jag.
With a quick push of a button, the doors
unlocked, lights flashed and tones sounded.
Ezra continued toward the passenger door
swallowing two pain meds. With a
chauffer, he didn't need to worry about driving.
Vin stopped at the trunk and hit the key
code. The trunk unlatched and sprang
upward just a few inches. Tanner dropped
one bag to free his hand and lifted the trunk door completely.
He dropped the second bag. Then he closed his
eyes mouthing an 'Oh no.'.
The nearly full trunk held Standish's camping
gear.
Tanner leaned against the raised door and
fingered through the equipment. Boots, rough coat, saddle bags packed with a
change of clothes on top, bed roll and hat.
Shit...shit...shit...
Tanner pushed and shoved the bags into the
trunk and slammed it closed. He stared
at the man who leaned tiredly against the passenger window.
He don't even remember it’s in there....
~~~~~~~
Tanner wove the Jag through quiet
streets. He continued to take
surreptitious glances at the person beside him.
Standish had dozed off before they had even cleared airport
property.
Damn.
~~~~~~~
"Come on Ez," Tanner switched the
ignition off cutting short the purr of the Jag's engine. The sharpshooter opened the door and started
out of the car. "'Ey Ez we're
home."
The undercover agent gingerly sat up and gazed about
the car and surrounding area with slight bewilderment. His gaze landed on the Texan standing outside
the driver's door, peering in at him.
"My apologies Mr. Tanner," Ezra gently
un-clicked his seat belt not having remembered even putting it on at the
airport, "I can drive you home."
"Forget it Ez," Tanner shut his door
muffling his chuckle and headed for the trunk.
Standish sighed and eased himself from the car. The only detractor the Jag had was how low it
hugged the ground. Pulling and pushing
one to their feet could prove to be monumental in a condition such as his.
The crisp night bit at his bruises but felt strangely
welcomed. He shuffled toward his
apartment.
When and how Tanner passed him in the hall way or even had the door
unlocked, alarm disarmed and bags dropped in the foyer, before he even reached
the door, had Standish slightly baffled.
Ezra stepped into the well lit apartment and squinted.
Gawd his head hurt.
The apartment held the stagnant chill of disuse. Leather furniture would take a moment to warm
up enough to become comfortable. Counter
tops and metal fixtures held a bite all their own. The air even had moldy
coldness about it.
Standish ignored it.
He shuffled out of his coat leaving it to drape haphazardly over an arm
chair. He paused and squinted at the
Texan wondering when the man would go home.
Tanner found the thermostat and cranked the heat to
just above 60 degrees. The hum of warm
air could be heard spilling into the room in an attempt to beat back the raw
chill.
The Texan slid into the kitchen and cursed himself for
removing his boots at the door. The cut
stone of Standish's modern kitchen gripped his feet with calf cramping
intensity. Damn it was cold in
here.
"Ya hungry?"
Tanner eyed the contents of the refrigerator. He reached in and shuffled things aside,
shook his head and closed the door.
The inarticulate grunt had a negative
connotation. The undercover agent
shuffled passed and disappeared into his room.
All he wanted to do was lie down.
"Don't worry Ez, I'll take care of your
bags," Tanner's light sarcastic comment earned him a slightly raised one
finger salute.
~~~~~~~
After finding nothing suitable to eat, the
Sharpshooter had drug the two shoulder bags down the opposite hall to the
washer and dryer. Ezra didn't look like
he would be wanting to do laundry anytime soon.
With out preamble, Vin had unzipped the first bag and simply dumped the
contents into the washer.
He never understood the need to separate whites from
Darks. It was all subjective
anyhow. When he shook the second bag
upside down, carelessly stuffed papers fell into the washer. Tanner retrieved them, finished with the
second bag and then dumped a few handfuls of detergent into the washer. He pushed the clothes down some, so the lid
would shut cleanly and then started the washer. The measuring cup was no where to be
found.
The Texan walked back into the living room with the
papers.
He dropped them on the counter, found a frying pan and
had every intention of making an omelet.
His fourth trip through the refrigerator confirmed his first few forays.
Damn.
The Texan picked up the papers and tentatively started
to read. Discharge papers....from
What the hell?
He checked the typed date on the upper Left corner ,
conferred with the Far side Calendar Buck and JD had bought and subsequently
hung on Ezra's refrigerator and groaned.
Shit.
Part 2
With a sigh, Tanner dug out his cell phone
and hit speed dial.
On the second ring, a curt "What," had him smiling
and shaking his head.
"Hi to you too, asshole," Tanner tucked the phone between his ear and
shoulder and leaned against the stove with his ankles crossed.
"You get Ezra home?"
Vin could hear music in the background and the drum of
a diesel engine. At
"Yeah, How'd Buck do?"
"Got his ass whipped but ya know Buck...he set up
a rematch but's gonna have Ezra stand in for him." Larabee's voice seemed
to smile.
"Shit...that'll cost ‘im a pretty penny."
"Yup."
"Speakin' of Ez," Tanner paused placing the papers back on the
counter. "I think we might have a
problem."
"What's up?"
"I think maybe you should keep him close to home
for a bit," Tanner rubbed a hand over his eyes.
"What's going on?"
"Well besides the fact it looks like Mike Tyson
used his face as a speed bag and this place is freezing cuz he ain't been
around, and the stuff in his refrigerator has more lumps and mold than a high
school Biology experiment?....."
Vin paused and added, "his camping stuff is all packed and in the
trunk of the Jag."
Vin listened intently to the sudden silence over the
line. The drum of the diesel sounded
even louder and obtrusive.
"Shit...." the soft exclamation had Larabee
closing his eyes.
"Yeah, And his discharge papers from the hospital
says he spent Thanksgiving under their care."
The line remained quiet. The Dodge diesel vibrated through the
phone.
"Why didn't he call?" Larabee's softly spoke question was self
directed.
Tanner answered, "Probably wanted too....but what
if we didn't answer...and there ain't no way any of us would have made it up
there anyhow..." The sharpshooter
padded out of the kitchen and cracked open the door to the master bedroom.
Standish lay sprawled across the bed partially under
the wool blanket,
"
"Yeah, I'm still here," His distant tone gave clear indicator that
his mind raced in another direction, "Listen I've got to meet with The
Judge tomorrow morning. I'll have Buck
and JD drop by with some grocery's....Maybe see what Josiah is doing...Nathan
plans on traveling up to see Rain...don't see no point in bothering him with
this fiasco."
"
"I know...I know," Larabee's voice tapered
off and then came back, "I'll call Pete and find out what really
happened."
Tanner nodded and clicked the phone off.
~~~~~~~
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, the
O'Donahue confessed he was no fool. It was also known that hurt one of Team Seven
and you unfortunately garnered the attention of the whole team and that could
be a very real detriment to oneself and one's team.
A few hours before the late fall sun even
thought about clearing the horizon,
Diablo padded quietly out of the bedroom and
flopped down in front of the stone fireplace.
~~~~~~~
Tanner shoved the wrinkled clothes he had
just taken from Standish, into the nearly full washer. The spin cycle was next. He still had time. The lid did not shut cleanly. With a sigh of forced patience the
sharpshooter placed the heavy box of detergent on the washer to keep the lid
closed.
With a short pleased nod, he disappeared into
the guest bedroom.
Morning was only a few short hours away.
~~~~~~
Tanner woke to the sounds of the shower. Seven in the morning and the sun was just
barely lighting the sky. In a few weeks
it would still be dark at Seven.
The bounty hunter furrowed his brow and tried
to decide whether or not to phone Sanchez.
Ezra awake before the sun cleared the building tops surely classified
itself as a miracle. Then again, the
pain medication would have worn off by now.
Another miracle dashed by the cold calculations of medicine and
science.
Oh well.
Tanner slid from the bed pulled on his jeans,
rifled through the bureau draw and found one of Buck's sweatshirts that had
been left behind. A loose fit but
useable, the blue, red and silver colors of the New England Patriots labeled
the sweat shirt a gift from JD but explained why it had been left behind at
Ezra's place.
The sharpshooter padded down the hall, paused
at the washer and drier. He shoved the
wet clothes into the dryer picking out the clumps of un-dissolved soap and
tossing them back into the detergent box.
Recycling. With a shove and kick
the dryer door closed and with the dial turned to Permanent press Vin was on
his way to the kitchen.
Who needs dry cleaners anyway?
"Didn't think you'd ever git your slow
ass out of there," Tanner leaned
against the counter drumming his fingers and shifting his feet. Short of watching The Waltons on satellite
not much was on. The coffee on the
counter came in beans instead of grounds.
Besides it was a known fact that Ezra did not have a normal Coffee
pot. He had one that needed directions
and a degree. Hell, Vin just wanted a
cup of black coffee not some third world bean fertilized with dung from
primates. Ezra was a weird duck....a
freak of nature if one listened to Buck...
Standish gazed up at Tanner as if he had some
how spoken in a foreign tongue.
"Mr. Tanner please stop moving."
"Come on Ez, lets git some
breakfast," Vin headed for the door
with the Jag key already in his hand.
"It is much too early to eat Mr.
Tanner," Ezra spoke delicately as
if afraid any sudden noise would shatter his skull into a thousand tiny
pieces. Perhaps that would not be such a
bad thing.
"I'll buy ya coffee," Vin held the door open not expecting or tolerating
any kind of resistance. "Course, I
could just slug ya and haul your dumb ass out the door with me."
"I see no reason for further
violence," Standish shuffled delicately toward the door gently taking his
coat from the back of the chair where he had draped it last night. "My belongings?" He did not even remember coming home or going
to bed much less what he did with his bags.
"I took care of it, got it cleaned and
everything."
"Thank you Mr. Tanner," Ezra shuffled out the door wondering if Vin
had already gone to the dry cleaners why hadn't he just brought home
breakfast?
~~~~~~~
Peggy's Fine Dining did not hold the four and
five star ratings of some of
The once brightly yellow colored cinderblock
painted building held the dirt and grime of years of city life. Its corner location made it a hot spot for
quick coffees while people sat at red lights.
The silver and tan sparkle decorated Formica
tables paled to the cut and creased red faux leather benches that made up the
booths. The old linoleum floor had worn
and grooved under heavy foot traffic.
The register keys rested like an old Royal type writer keys. No lock safe guarded the cash drawer. The .357 under the counter did. Customers had their choice of booths or
counter top service. The stools were
newly furnished in their own hue of turquoise.
One couldn't help think such a color should be outlawed or left at the
old Five and Dime food counters. The counter
top itself matched the tables. The same
sparkle pattern intermingled with flecks of silver and possible gold. Old thick ceramic mugs and plain white heavy
plates spoke a life time of dedicated service.
Flat wear could be easily bent back into shape and soup spoons doubled
for coffee spoons.
The menu and chef set this little eatery
apart from the rest of the world. Peggy
and her husband Chet had been running this particular hole in the wall since
Peggy, of course, was cut from a finer cloth
but no less delicately. Her lip stick
matched the red seats of the booths. Her
wig never quite sat right and her panty hose seemed to bag at the knees. She did force herself to leave her cigarette
at the counter when serving people their food.
Other than that, a Virginia Slims bobbed and waggled attached to her
bottom lip defying gravity whenever she spoke.
When the two ATF agents entered the
establishment she met them with her usual exuberance, "My God honey
someone beat the pavement with your face?"
Peggy immediately flipped up the side counter
top and crossed the distance to the two agents, "Chet git your ass out
here an' take a look at this poor boy."
Peggy, cigarette still adhering to her lip sidled up next to the
undercover agent, "damn sugar, you're suppose to block punches with your
hands or arms....not your face....didn't that fancy ATF teach ya
anything....don't ya worry ole Chet knows a few moves that might help ya out
next time." The owner part waitress
shuffled the Southerner toward the middle booth, the one that sat over the
heating vent. She didn't like seein' her
favorite 'son of Lee' catchin' a chill...as she would say.
Tanner chuckled ducking his head. The Texan followed sitting across from
Standish.
"I'll be back with yer coffees in no
time." She bumped into Chet,
swatted him in the chest with the order book she never used and disappeared
behind the counter.
"Son ain't no one teach you not to use
your face for defensive moves?" The
owner of Peggy's Fine Diner stood well over six four and had hands that could
palm most people's heads. He never
needed a cheater bar to loosen bolts, never truly needed a vice if he had a
free hand. Intimidating as he appeared,
he had the heart of new born bear cub.
Everyone suspected he had a temper to match
Larabee but no one dared look for it.
Ezra chuckled and ducked his head. He would kill Tanner later.
Vin winked at Chet and ordered breakfast for
both he and Ezra. Standish started to rebuke
the idea of eating when Peggy shouted from the other side of the counter,
"Boy, it ain't never to early to eat biscuits and gravy." Standish groaned.
"If ya want son, I'll show ya a move or
too to keep that handsome face of yours from getting all puffed up like it
is."
Before Ezra could decline the kind offer, Vin
answered, "He'd like that...won't ya Ez?"
"Well actually Mr..."
"See that Chet...how 'bout tomorrow at
"See ya there," Chet slapped Standish on the shoulder and headed
back to his kingdom behind the order counter.
He missed the sudden paling of Ezra's features. Vin pushed away from the table a bit afraid
the undercover agent just might get sick.
"You will pay for this Mr.
Tanner," Ezra leaned back in his
booth and groaned when the glass front door was pulled open chiming the cow
bell that rested above it.
"Good Lord can nothing go right?"
Tanner swiveled in his seat to see who had
Ezra cringing.
"'Ey Buck, Ey JD," Vin swung back around and faced
Standish. Maybe this wasn't a bad idea
after all.
"Well looky here, how'd ya do it
Vin?....I mean drag that southern' high sassin'...." Buck paused as he
started to sit down forcing Ezra to slid further into the booth. JD stopped mid stride as he climbed over the
back of Vin's booth. No way anyone was
going to make Vin sit on the inside.
Peggy knew that too and so kept her mouth
shut when the young pup, JD sprang over her booth like a wired Jack Russel.
"Dang Ezra....can ya even see out of
those eyes?" Buck raised a finger
and poked at the swollen closed right eye.
"Ow, desist in touching me," Standish grudgingly gave space as he slapped
"So...arhhh Ez?...." JD stuttered
for the right words.
"What Mr. Dunne?" Ezra sighed.
How was it possible he had missed this kind of verbal abuse? Actually craved it when away from
"You did hit the other guy back? I mean
ya just didn't get hit...you got ‘im a time or two.....right?" Dunne leaned forward in the booth reaching
out a hand to push on the puffy blood dried lip.
"Do not even try it Mr.
Dunne," Ezra hissed back. His bottom lip began to seep serum.
"Here sugar," Peggy leaned over the table handing the
Southerner some extra rectangular textured napkins. "This here coffee ain't that gourmet foo
foo stuff....it's the real McCoy, put hair on your chest."
"Hell Peggy, ya best serve up a cup to
JD then," Buck leaned back out of
the waitress's way. Chet watched his
wife with a jealous eye.
"Breakfast for you boys?"
Buck and JD immediately rattled off their
choices, never bothering with menus, not that Peggy ever offered them. When the two finished, and Peggy hadn't taken
a single note, she turned and hollered, "Chet ya git all that?"
"Got it hon."
She turned back smiled sweetly, never losing
her cigarette, "anything else boys?"
"That should do it." Buck leaned back against the booth and
stretched his hands over his head. He
turned to Ezra, " So Ez, did Vin here tell ya about the beast he brought
camping?"
"Buck...." Vin's warning went
unheeded.
~~~~~~
Josiah and Nathan sat at the corner red
light.
Sanchez leaned forward over the steering
wheel and gazed to the right. He hardly
even noticed the crack in the windshield anymore.
"So it is...perhaps our brothers are
getting breakfast."
"Can't believe Ezra would be awake at
this hour."
Josiah put on his blinker, made the Right on
Red turn even though he sat in the middle lane and parked somewhat diagonally
next to Buck's beat up blue pickup.
He waved graciously to all those that had
negative opinions about his driving.
Nathan opened his eyes and unpeeled his
fingers from the arm rest. Next time
he'd drive.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Jeezus Ezra, ain't anyone taught you to
put your hands up to protect your face?" Nathan tapped Vin expectantly on
the shoulder. The tracker sighed and
eased from the bench allowing
Josiah waved to Peggy, "Sorry
Ma'am," and climbed over the back of the booth and squished Ezra between
himself and Buck.
"Son I think you've taken 'turning the
other cheek' a step too far,"
Sanchez slid the untouched biscuits and gravy from in front of the
undercover agent to himself. "You
mind?"
"By all means help yourself," Ezra sighed and closed his eyes. He felt
dizzy and dry mouthed.
"'Ey Ez, how can ya tell if ya eyes are
open or closed?" JD shoveled a
forkful of French Toast into his mouth.
"Mr. Dunne...."
"They do a CT?"
"Yes, yes and yes..."
"Figures, got a hard head..."
Nathan nodded his head in the direction of Peggy when she asked her silent
question with raised eyebrows. Her way
of asking if he wanted his 'usual'.
"Bet the other guy busted his
hand." JD offered.
"I would wager they did."
The table paused at the 'they'. If Standish noticed it he gave no indication.
Josiah managed between mouthfuls of gravy and
buckshot biscuits, "Buck tell ya about his date on the camping
trip?"
Seeing a chance to take the attention away from
himself, Standish sat up with a slight grimace, "He failed to mention
her...he did however expound on Mr. Tanner's fair maiden."
"That's one way of puttin'
it,"
JD giggled, "She was a WCW contender,
but got the boot for being a bit too aggressive..." Dunne ducked with a piece of scrambled egg
flew in his general direction.
A wash cloth slapped Wilmington off the side
of the head, "Don't mind you boys raising mischief...jist clean up after
yerselves. I ain't no one’s maid."
Peggy rolled the cigarette to the other side of her mouth during her
admonishment.
"Good goin' JD," Buck mumbled.
"Mr. Wilmington I would have wagered you
would rather enjoy an aggressive paramour?"
"Hell Ezra, she took The Nut Cracker to
a whole new meaning," Buck placed
the wet rag on the edge of the table ignoring the others when they cringed and
cinched their legs in closer to their bodies.
"You don't even know the half of it...she had hair where woman
ain't suppose to..."
Peggy waited on Chet to fill the breakfast
orders and listened with an amused smile at the laughter that bubbled and
sometimes exploded from the booth crowded with six grown men.
The waitress spotted another truck pulling
into their small diner, "Chet Mr. Larabee's gonna be wantin' his regular
breakfast too."
"Already on it Hon."
Peggy lit her third cigarette. They were low tar so it was ok.
~~~~~~
Larabee's work boots clicked quietly against
the old torn tile. Road sand had worked
its way into the cracks of linoleum and short of a power vac, nothing would get
it out. It would eventually erode the
floor. Chet and Peg had withstood worse
and more caustic wear than most people knew.
Chet leaned out his 'service counter window
and nodded a quiet hello. The restaurant
owner had called fifteen minutes ago.
Larabee's boys congregating in one spot so early in the morning meant
something was either wrong or they were trying to fix a mishap.
Larabee needed to be there.
Besides so far all the meals had been put on
"Ya shoulda seen Mrs. Travis houndin'
Larabee watched as Sanchez wiped tears from
his eyes. His inside arm hung lazily across the back of the bench over and
around Standish. Protective. Ezra held an arm across bruised ribs and
kept his tongue over his bottom lip, his mirth easily discernable.
Buck flanked him pounding his hand on the table
with enough force to make silverware rattle on plates.
Vin, Nathan, and JD sat with their backs to
Larabee but their foolery was no less obvious.
"'Ey Cowboy," Vin spoke between
chuckles without turning around, "jist tellin' Ez here how close ya came
to marryin' Mrs. Travis."
JD hunched further down in the bench, tears
streaming from his eyes. At this point
anything would have struck the kid as funny, perhaps even a Dunne joke.
Larabee leaned out of the way when Peggy slid
his 'Trail Boss Special' in front of him.
Nathan cringed and shut his eyes. They had no respect for their bodies.
Larabee simply nodded and pushed the grey
over used wash cloth under the rim of the plate. He gazed up at Standish then back to his
plate, "They tell ya about Billy Travis walking in on Rain and
Nathan?" He hid his growing smile
behind a forkful of food.
Eyes widened around the table as Nathan tried
to slide from sight.
Ezra leaned back in the booth feeling the
effects of the pain medication kicking in, he wished it did not make him so
tired. In fact, he wished he had not
taken any on the way over to the restaurant.
Being with the others, laughing, picking on and being picked on felt
like the best medicine. With these
hyperactive, over protective but basically steadfast friends...who needed to
dull the pain...who would want to ever fall asleep and miss something.
Thanksgiving alone in the hospital had
probably been for the better. He missed them, as much it seemed, as they missed
him. He had never cared one way or
another how he spent a holiday and this year he did....this year he had cared
and it had made him morose. Now, he
suddenly understood the longing to be with his friends and the hollowness faded
away. Somehow that was comforting. Having not been apart of the camping
trip...well blessings do come in disguises....
With his private world folding and
fluctuating in the malaise brought on by narcotics, Ezra Standish realized that
Thanksgiving does not always have to fall on the last Thursday of
November. Sometimes it came on Saturday
mornings when it was just too damn early to even think about eating.
"Son ya gonna eat that second plate
Peggy brought you?" Josiah eyed the
replacement plate that had been brought over when Josiah had commandeered
Ezra's original breakfast.
Without opening his eyes, in fact, not sure
he could convince his eyes to open, Standish pushed the plate with a heavy lazy
hand to the Profiler beside him.
Buck and Vin seemed to have read his mind and
wagers were made, money passed and bets jotted down.
Ezra ignored them, suddenly not caring if
money was being lost or won....somehow that felt wrong but he couldn't quite
put his finger on as to why.
Larabee smiled around a mouthful of sausage
and gravy and nodded to himself. Damn
team worked its best magic amongst themselves.
The End.