No warning in this one. My eternal thanks go to Erika for he unstinting help and suggestions.
My apologies in advance to all those fine folks who live in North Dakota. It's just Ezra bing.well, Ezra. Sequel to Con Man Sense

J.D. Dunne was bored. All the leads had been tracked down, the research had been done, the bust had gone down, and every bit of required paperwork had been finished and piled on Chris' desk. Ordinarily they would all have left by now but nasty words had come from the brass upstairs about leaving early. Words to the effect that if they didn't have enough work to keep them busy until 5:00 p.m. on the dot, then work would be found for them. None of them wanted to sort and update old files, so here they all were-just marking time. Damn brass!

He looked over at Nathan's desk. The man was engrossed in some book about natural medicine, a subject he had developed an intense interest in. Josiah was in the break room making a new pot of coffee. His roommate, Buck, had his feet on his desk and was leaning back with a smile on his face. JD smirked. It didn't take two guesses to figure out what was on his mind. Although there had been something not quite the same in that area lately. JD couldn't quite put his finger on it but something was off. He shook his head and continued to observe his teammates. Ezra was staring intently at his monitor screen. It was turned at such an angle that JD couldn't see what held Ezra's interest. He would bet it was a poker game, one of many Ezra had covertly installed on his computer. Vin was tearing sheets of paper into small pieces, balling them up and tossing them over his and Ezra's monitors at Ezra's head. They kept landing in Ezra's chestnut curls and Ezra would absently raise his hand to brush them off. JD glanced over at Chris' door. Their leader was still in his office with the door firmly closed. He looked up at the clock. Two hours still to go. Those damn brass!

With a sigh, JD turned to his desk. He supposed he could try to sort some of this mess out. It had gotten so bad even he was having trouble finding things. He picked up a stack of CD's and opened his middle drawer. Well, there certainly wasn't much room in there. While he pondered the possibility of jamming in yet more junk (after all, the whole idea was to get his desktop straightened out, not his whole desk.), he spotted the CD one of his hacker friends had sent him a couple of weeks ago. He had mentioned to Dave the trouble they had been having trying to figure out where a certain suspect had fled. Dave had asked if they had tried the suspect's mother and JD had explained that this particular person had been very clever about hiding his tracks. They had no information on him other than a string of aliases. It seemed Dave could help with that. He had developed a program that would identify and search all relevant databases and come up with a birth certificate for anyone who had ever had one registered. He had sent the program and it had worked like a charm. They had plugged in all those aliases and one of them had turned out to be the suspect's actual name. Once they had his mother's name, it was no time before they tracked her down and the cops in Des Moines had found their suspect hiding there.

After that, the team had had some fun with the program. Buck had insisted that they try to find Elvis's birth certificate and found it they had. Jimmy Buffet was next and then they all began to call out names. Josiah's suggestions had been rather obscure. Most of them were names the rest of them didn't recognize.. Once they had exhausted the celebrity possibilities, at least for the moment, they began on people who used only a middle initial and refused to divulge their real names. They had laughed uproariously when it turned out that one of the supervisors' middle names was Eggbert and not Edward as he had hinted it was. Vin had laughed so hard he had fallen off the desk he had been perched on. That particular supervisor had been giving him a bad time about the length of his hair. Eventually Chris had called a halt to the hilarity and they had all gone back to work. The CD had been relegated to the middle drawer until it was needed again.

JD picked the CD up and inserted it into his drive. The program came on and he stared at it awhile and then typed in his own name. He knew a copy of his certificate was in his files just as all the others' were in their files, but it would still be fun to see it on the screen. And there it was. He looked it over, deleted it, and then typed in Buck's name. One after the other he typed in his co-workers' names and waited for their certificates to appear. He actually got quite a bit of the desktop cleared off while he was waiting. Buck would be so surprised. He typed in Ezra's name and hit the enter key before he remembered that this program wouldn't work with Ezra's birth certificate. Ezra's was French. He remembered the interest that had aroused when Ezra first started with them only six months ago. When his file had finally arrived from the FBI, there had been the French certificate. Buck had teased him about it, saying that while he had known that Ezra was from the south, he hadn't suspected it was the south of France. Ezra had just grinned and, sensing that Buck would not let up, had told them that he was supposed to have been born in Savannah but that Maude had gone into labor early and had produced him in a very small French town. It was about the only bit of personal information that they gotten out of Ezra yet.

A commotion across the room caught JD's attention. Apparently, Vin had increased the number and strength of his barrage and Ezra had finally had enough. He was now throwing the tiny missiles back at Vin and a full-scale war was about to erupt. JD was laughing at their antics when the computer suddenly dinged announcing the end of the search. He glanced at the screen fully expecting to see "Search Results: 0", the standard search engine disclaimer when it couldn't turn anything up. He was turning back to the mini war when his head swiveled back to the monitor and he did a double take. There on the screen was a certificate

He turned his chair back to his desk and pulled closer, studying the document. Something had to be wrong-maybe it had pulled up another Ezra Standish. However, the mother's name read "Maude Clair Soniat" and the father's as Patrick Declan Standish. Those were the right names. He hadn't realized that Dave's program did foreign searches as well as American ones. He glanced up at the top of the document on his screen and gasped. According to the wording at the top, this was a Louisiana birth certificate. He looked further down-the place of birth was New Orleans and the hospital was Touro Infirmary. The "Date of Birth" section caught his eye and he gasped again. That couldn't be right! According to the date recorded on the certificate, Ezra was only 24 and only just turned 24 at that. But he was supposed to be 27, had gone into the FBI at 21, and had spent 6 years there. 21 and 6 made 27. There was no way he could be only 24, a bit over a year younger than Vin and less than a year older than JD himself.

"JD? JD?"

"What?" Startled, JD's head almost hit the monitor. Quickly he swiveled the monitor away from Josiah's sight.

"Chris wants us all to meet in the conference room before we leave. Are you coming?"

"Yeah, sure. Just as soon as I shut this program down. I guess since we'll be leaving, I'll just go ahead and shut down the computer, too." That ought to give him a minute or two.

"O.K. Just come on in as soon as you're finished." Giving him a puzzled look, Josiah walked into the conference room and shut the door. JD huffed a sigh of relief and looked around the room. Everyone had already shut down their machines and gone into the meeting. He quickly sent the birth certificate to the printer and then deleted the document out of the program and, with a few strokes of the keyboard, from the computer itself. He shut the computer down and walked over to the printer to retrieve the sheet of paper. He shut down the printer, folded the paper, and put it in his pocket. He would try to figure out this puzzle at home after he hacked into Touro's databases and verified that Ezra had actually been born there on that date.

JD couldn't believe it. It had taken no time at all to hack into Touro's files and luckily, it appeared that most of them had been computerized. He had typed in Maude's name and a whole index of records appeared. It would seem that Maude had been a patient in that hospital more than once. Glancing again at the birth certificate on the desk, he scanned the records for the correct date and pulled up that file. There it was-the whole story of Ezra's birth. According to the records, he had been a month premature and had stayed in the hospital after Maude had been discharged. JD then typed in Ezra's name and a completely separate set of records appeared. Ezra had only had to spend 10 days in the hospital but all the details were there including the date of his birth. It tallied with the birth certificate. JD shut down his computer and stared off into space. What was he supposed to do now?

If he told anybody and it got back to the brass upstairs, all holy hell would break loose. He knew that many of the administrators didn't like Ezra. They thought his manner was arrogant and his behavior suspicious. What was suspicious about it, JD didn't know. As far as he could see, Ezra was a good person. A little standoffish and he certainly dressed much better than he had to, but that was just him.

A sudden pounding on the door startled him. "JD, the pizza's here. You'd better get out here or I'll eat the whole thing." Buck. What was he going to tell Buck? He really didn't have to tell him anything. He could keep a secret. Unlocking the door to his room, he strolled out as casually as he could into the living room.

An hour later, he was spilling out his guts to Buck. So much for keeping a secret. "So when I got home, I hacked into Touro and found all the files on his birth. It proves that this birth certificate is the right one and the French one is wrong. What do we do, Buck?"

"Just hold on, kid. I've got to think. Christ, I can't believe Ez is only 24. He certainly doesn't act like it or talk like it. And when was the last time you saw any other 24 year old wearing Armani suits?"

"I don't know. I don't go around asking guys how old they are and what brand of suits they wear!"

"Very funny, JD. That French certificate has to be a forgery. Can't believe the FBI didn't pick that up when they did their background check on him. It must be a damn good one and there must be records to back it up, too. The check those bastards do is a real thorough one. I've got to think here. He's over 3 years younger than we thought so that means he was only...only 17 when he went into the Academy. God, how did he ever pull it off?"

"Yeah and who did the forgery? You don't think Ez did it, do you? I mean I know he's good at a lot of things-he can pick locks and all (was that the kind of things the brass was suspicious of?)-but he wouldn't do something like that. I know he wouldn't!"

"I don't think it was him, kid. It takes a lot of money and expertise to pull off something like this. I smell the fine hand of Maude here. We'll take it in to Chris in the morning and see what he thinks about it."

The team had met Maude shortly after Ezra had joined them. None of them had been impressed with her and Buck least of all. Maude had come swanning into the office ready to take Ezra off to lunch. Ezra dawdled while the others had all left for their own lunch breaks. Buck had stopped in the hall, remembering a file he had promised to deliver to a secretary downstairs and had returned to the office to get it. He had halted just outside the door when he had heard the raised voices. Well, one raised voice. It had been Maude's and she had been giving it to poor Ez up one side and down the other. Seemed she did not approve of Ezra, his lifestyle, his job or his teammates. Her words were elegant but they were meant to cut deep and hurt. He had waited until he had heard Ezra' s soft voice trying to placate the woman and then he had left, going swiftly to the stairs. He didn't want them to catch him at the elevator and think he had overheard them. He didn't give a damn about Maude but he didn't want to embarrass Ezra. He couldn't do that to the man. When he had told the others later-Ezra had still been out-they had been equally disgusted.

"You don't think Chris'll do anything, well, official, do you?"

"Nah. This isn't Ez's fault. I'm sure of it. Between Chris and me, we'll figure out how to handle it."

The next morning, Buck arrived at the office earlier than usual. He knew Chris would already be there. He knocked once on Chris's door and walked in.

"Hey, Vin. I need to speak to Chris about something. Could we have a few minutes?"

Vin looked at Chris and shrugged. "Sure, old man, no problem."

Buck cuffed Vin's head as he walked past and then closed the door after him. Turning to Chris, he muttered, "Old man. I'll give him "old man."" Then sitting himself down in the chair in front of the desk, he pulled a paper out of his pocket and tossed it on the desk in front of Chris. "We've got problems."

Chris quirked an eyebrow as he reached for the paper. "Problems?" He opened the paper, perused it silently for a moment, then let it drop to the desk and sighed. "Where the hell did this come from?"

Buck explained the whole thing to Chris; the hacker's program, JD pulling up all their certificates and forgetting that Ezra's wasn't supposed to be found in a US database, the hacking into Touro' s files and the subsequent discovery that the files and the new birth certificate matched and their assumption that it was all Maude' s doing. "I know you don't like the kid hacking but he was desperate to prove this certificate wrong. "

"Only, instead, he proved it right. Damn. You're right; this isn't something Ezra would have done. He was too young at the time, for one thing."

"Chris, I don't think Ezra was ever too young for anything. But we pulled his files up last night and according to the college records in them he was supposedly 17 when he started. You have to supply a birth certificate with your college application, at least I did, and JD had to, too. So the French one was in existence then. He couldn't have pulled something like this off when he was just 14 and he was just 14 then. This is definitely Maude's work. What the hell are we going to do?"

"The first thing we do is show this to Ezra. He's got a right to know and after we see his reaction and get his story, we'll know where to go from there."

Ezra sat staring at the birth certificate in his hands and listening to the story Buck and JD were telling. He looked up at Chris who was sitting behind his desk, his hands steepled in front of him. Buck was leaning against the wall next to the desk and JD was sitting in the chair next to his, leaning forward with anxiety. "I'm sorry, Ezra. I never meant for anything like this to happen." JD was desperate for Ezra to understand.

Ezra glanced at JD. "It's all right, JD. I know you didn't mean any harm." He stared at the certificate for a few moments longer, his head bowed. "I was so sure it was real."

"So sure what was real, Ez?" Buck spoke softly and came to crouch down next to Ezra's chair. Ezra's voice had trembled slightly and that had worried Buck. Ezra's voice never trembled.

"I never really knew exactly how old I was. Every time Mother started a new con or pursuit of another husband, she would change my age to suit the circumstances. Sometimes I would be younger and sometimes older. It all depended on what she needed. When I was 15, when I thought I was 15, I finally got fed up with it. Mother was living in France at the time and I was attending a school in the same country. The other boys in the school kept teasing me about my stature and implying that I was a baby too young to attend their prestigious academy. So, I demanded to see my birth certificate. I thought if I could at least get a copy of it to show them, the boys would leave me alone. Mother produced the certificate that is currently in my files. She also told me the story of how I came to be born in France. The same one I told you, Mr. Wilmington."

Buck patted him on the leg. "It was natural for you to believe her, Ezra. You really didn't have any reason not to and that was a really believable story."

"But that's just it. I did have reason to doubt her. I was often left to my own devices when I stayed with Mother. She let me come to her occasionally on school holidays. One holiday, I had just gotten there when she and her current husband, number 3, I think, took off to cavort with their friends. I was upset that they had left me so I began snooping. Childish of me, I know."

"Ez, you were a child." Buck patted his leg again.

Ezra gave him a small smile. "Perhaps. At any rate, I found a small trunk hidden in a closet in an unoccupied room. It took me no time to get the lock open and when I lifted the lid, I found envelopes full of documents. There were several marriage certificates and divorce papers and more than a few passports. The passports were what disturbed me. They all had Mother's picture in them but they were all under different names. Not just last names. That I would have expected-Mother had been married so many times. However, the first names were different, too. I was looking through them when I heard two of the maids coming down the hall. I just had time to stuff everything back into the envelopes and back into the trunk and the trunk back into the closet before they came into the room. They were startled to see me there, told me I wasn't supposed to be in that part of the house. I told them I'd just been exploring and they shooed me out of the room and back to the part of the house I was allowed in."

"What did you do then?" asked Chris.

"Nothing, really. Mother came back just before I had to leave for school and I never had the chance to ask her about them. I'm not sure I would have even if I had gotten the chance to. Mother can be quite sharp-tongued and vindictive when she's displeased and I know she would have been furious if she'd found out I had gotten into her private papers."

Chris and Buck looked at each other, shaking their heads. They could just imagine what Maude would have done. JD leaned back in his chair. He was so glad he had had the mother he did. If there was ever an award for the Mother from Hell, JD was certain Maude would win it.

"I tried not to think about those passports but, evidently, they stayed in the back of my mind. When I got back to school with my copy of the birth certificate, all I could think about were those passports. They couldn't be legal ones, not with all those different names. But they were good ones, nonetheless. Mother always got away with using them, at least as far as I knew. And I assume she was using or had used them. If she could obtain such impeccable false passports, then she could also obtain..."

Ezra paused for a while. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. He laid the paper on his lap and folded his hands over it. They were shaking slightly. "So when I had to spend the next holiday at school I slipped away and hitchhiked to the town listed as my birth place. I found the town hall and asked to see the record of my birth. The man behind the counter muttered something and went into a back room. He was so long in returning I had begun to think he had forgotten about me. Just then, a different man appeared holding a large book. He laid it on the counter and stared at me. He asked for my name and birth date even though I had already given it to the first man. I repeated the information and he opened the book and looked through the pages. Finally, he stopped and turned the book around so I could see it. There, he said, there is the statement of your birth. I reached out to take the book just wanting to inspect it a little more closely but he snatched it away and held it out of my reach. He mumbled something about only official clerks being able to handle the books. He did let me look at it long enough to read all the details that were written there and then snatched the book away and closed it. He carried it back into the next room, muttering about stupid young Americans. The details were all correct-my mother's maiden name, my father's name, their birthplaces-it was all correct. I had to believe it was real. So I hitchhiked back to school and just accepted the fact that I was small for my age. I showed the others the birth certificate but they never did leave me alone. I was only there another month, anyway."

Chris tapped his fingers on the desk and thought a minute. "Ezra, do you remember there being anything strange about the page the clerk let you look at? Anything at all?"

Ezra closed his eyes, thinking back to that day. "No, I don't believe there was. The paper didn't look new and neither did the ink as I recall. The only thing that was strange, now that I think about it, was the number of entries on that page. There were a lot of them, all crowded together. I just assumed, I guess, that there had been a lot of births registered on that one day and the clerk hadn't wanted to start a new page."

Chris sighed and Buck stood up, putting his hand on Ezra's shoulder and squeezing. "Well, old dog, what do we do now?" He looked down at Ezra who, once again, had his head down. The trembling voice, the shaking hands, the bowed head-that was a lot for Ezra to be showing. He glanced at Chris and received a nod. "Ez, do you want to go home? I know this has been a shock to you."

"No, no, I'm fine and there is some research that I've got to get done..."

"All right," Chris said, "Why don't you get to it then? And Ezra." Ezra looked up at him. "Please try not to worry too much about this. I'm sure we'll find some way to work it all out."

"Thank you, Mr. Larabee, Mr. Wilmington. I...I'm grateful for your help and... and for... believing in me, that I had nothing to do with this."

"Hell, Ez, we figure you're just as shocked by this as we are. And we know it's Maude that's at fault here. Was never any question of you're doing anything wrong."

Ezra gave Buck a tired smile and walked out of Chris' office followed by JD. JD smiled reassuringly at him as he went to his desk. Ezra stood there uncertainly for a moment. It seemed as though the world was a place he no longer knew. Everything seemed just slightly out of focus. In addition, it seemed as though his ears weren't working quite right. The other men in the room looked at him curiously. Finally Nathan spoke. "Ezra, are you all right? Ezra?"

Ezra blinked then looked toward Nathan. "What? Oh, Mr. Jackson. I'm fine, fine. Just have something on my mind is all." His voice died down to a murmur as he went to his desk. He sat down, booted up his computer, and called up the file he had been researching yesterday. Was it just yesterday? It seemed like such a long time ago. He stared at the screen and his thoughts tumbled over each other colliding and breaking up without rest.

He was still staring at the screen when Buck walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Ezra, it's time for lunch. Why don't you come on with us?"

"I'm really not hungry."

"Well, you still need to eat. Come on." Buck pulled up on his arm and Ezra stood. Not wanting to be alone with his thoughts, he went with them. He soon found himself sitting at a table in the small deli around the corner from the federal building. The waitress handed him a menu and he opened it.

Buck was looking at his own menu. Not that he needed to-he knew what he was going to order. But it made a good screen for watching Ezra without Ezra knowing it. Not that he was aware of much right now. He was looking at his menu but Buck was sure he wasn't seeing it. Coming to a decision, Buck grinned up at the waitress as she came up to him, order pad in hand.

"Sheila, darling, good to see you. I'll have the buffalo wings, fries, and iced tea, sweet. And he," pointing at Ezra, "he will have a bowl of your fine vegetable soup and a couple of slices of wheat toast, dry. Oh, and some tea. Only make his hot."

"Sure thing, Buck." Sheila grinned back at him and made her way over to Nathan for his order.

Ezra looked at Buck and thought about objecting to being ordered for. He decided it wasn't worth it. Buck would just keep on. Mr. Wilmington could be very persistent when he wanted to be.

They talked as they ate; about sports, what their plans were for the coming weekend, things in general. Ezra didn't take part in the conversation but Buck saw that he managed to eat a slice of toast, about half the soup and two cups of the hot tea. He was happy with that. He had noticed that Ezra tended not to eat much when he was stressed or discomfited. It was one of the few signs Ezra gave that things were not going quite as he would have wished.

Back at the office, Ezra tried to concentrate on his work. A headache had been growing behind his eyes at an alarming rate and he was beginning to feel dizzy and a little sick to his stomach. Suddenly Buck was there again, crouched down next to his chair and looking into his eyes. "Not feeling too well, are you, Ez? " Ezra blinked at him. How did Buck know? He hadn't thought he had given any indications of his discomfort. Buck stood up and, placing one hand behind Ezra's head to keep it still, put the other on his forehead. Dropping his hands, he turned to their medic. "Nathan, can you come here a minute. Ezra's not feeling very well."

"Nonsense, Mr. Wilmington, there's not a thing wrong with me."

Buck gave him a look. "He's warm, Nathan, and look at his eyes."

Nathan looked. Ezra tried to evade his scrutiny by lowering his head and staring at the floor but Nathan just put a hand under his chin and raised his head up. Ezra's eyes were glazed and full of pain. "Ezra, you ever get migraines?" Nathan asked.

Ezra gave a small nod. "I am occasionally afflicted with headaches of that sort," he admitted softly and shamefacedly.

"Migraines aren't anything to be ashamed of, Ezra. Nor is feeling ill. Everybody gets sick sometime." Neither Nathan nor Buck could understand Ezra's reaction to his evident illness. "Do you have any medication for them?"

"I do but it's at home. I haven't had one in quite a while and I stopped carrying the medicine with me."

"Well, you're going to have to go home at any rate. Buck, can you run him to his place and see to it that he takes the pills? I'll let Chris know that Ezra's sick."

"No problem, Nathan. Let's go, Ezra." Ezra thought about protesting but recollected Buck's persistence. He really did feel bad and home and his bed were looking more and more appealing.

"Very well, Mr. Wilmington, if you insist."

"Nathan and I both insist." Buck grabbed Ezra's suit jacket and held it out for Ezra to put on. "You got your keys?" he asked, holding out his hand. Ezra sighed and dropped them into Buck's outstretched palm. "Good boy. Now let's get you home and into bed." Turning to JD, he asked, "Can you pick me up in a couple of hours, kid? The keys to the truck are on my desk."

"Sure, Buck, I can do that. I need to stop at the grocery anyway. We're about out of Coke and beer."

"God forbid the Wilmington-Dunne household should run out of beer."

"Very funny, Ez. Sick and he can still make with the sarcasm." Buck guided Ezra toward the elevator. "You just be quiet now and give that poor aching brain of yours a rest."

Buck pulled the Jag into the driveway and on into the garage. He got out, went to the passenger side, and almost lifted Ezra out. It was clear that the young man was in real pain now. He had given up all pretenses at well-being halfway to his home and had slumped against the passenger door with his eyes shut tight. Now he barely made it into the condo. Buck helped him into the bedroom and out of his suit jacket. Then he went into the bathroom to look for the prescription. By the time he had found it and returned to the bedroom, Ezra had managed to divest himself of the rest of his clothing and was trying to crawl into bed wearing only his shorts. Buck dropped the medicine bottle on the dresser and hurried toward the bed, calling out, "Hey there, easy now. Easy."

Ezra straightened and, with a definite wobble, turned slightly. Buck began to reach out to steady him and then blinked and stopped as he got a good look at the man. Damn, so that's what was under those Armani suits. Buck knew from various comments he had overheard around the job that the world-well, at least the world of the Denver Federal building-thought of Ezra as self-indulgent, soft and lazy in everything but his undercover work. The body he was now looking at was anything but soft. It was trim, muscular and without a hint of flab anywhere that Buck could see. You did not get to look like that sitting around on your butt so that put paid to the lazy and self-indulgent speculations as well. Ezra wobbled even more. Buck blinked again and turned his mind to the problem at hand, continuing his reach to grab hold of Ezra's arm to steady him and with his other hand pulling down the covers. Then he gently eased Ezra down onto the bed. Ezra lay back on the pillow and Buck went to lift his legs up and slide them under the covers.

The skin of Ezra's legs was surprisingly soft but there were hard muscles moving smoothly under it. Those muscles suddenly tensed as one calf went into spasm. Ezra gasped and Buck grimaced in sympathy. He put his big hands around the offending calf and began a deep massage.

"Pull your toes up, Ez," he commanded. He kept up the massage with one hand and with the other reached down and pulled up on Ezra's foot. It took a while but the cramp finally eased. The fingers that had been pushing deep into the muscle began a lighter massage that gave way to gentle rubbing that was almost a caress. When Buck was sure the charley horse was gone for good he almost reluctantly pulled his hands away and eased the leg under the cover. He pulled the comforter up to Ezra's shoulders and gently patted his chest. "I'm going to get you some water and those pills. Can you hang on that long?"

Ezra gave the tiniest of nods, wincing as he did so. Buck hurried out of the room to the kitchen and returned with a glass of warm water. Shaking two pills out of the bottle, he brought them and the water to Ezra. "Now, I know warm water is kind of yucky but cold will make your head feel worse. So you just take these pills and swallow them down."

He raised Ezra's head off the pillow with one hand and slipped the pills into his mouth with the other. Turning to the nightstand, he picked up the glass and held it to Ezra's lips. When Ezra had swallowed enough water to get the pills down, Buck pulled the glass away and set it back on the nightstand. "Nathan said not to give you too much. It'll be here on the nightstand if you want some more. Go on to sleep now. I'll be in the living room if you need me."

Buck tucked Ezra in and then stood there looking at him for a while. "Poor kid," he murmured, "He doesn't deserve this, any of this." Then he turned to make sure the blinds and curtains were tightly closed and slipped silently out of the room. He left the door open an inch so he could hear if Ezra called to him.

Ezra snuggled down into his pillow, praying that the medicine would work fast. Sometimes it took forever to ease the pain and sometimes it didn't work at all. He had always battled these headaches alone before. And when the medicine didn't work, it was sheer agony. He wasn't alone, though. Buck was here, just a little way away in the room living. Knowing that comforted him in a way he had never felt before. There was someone here who would help him with the pain.

Buck had made himself some coffee and now sat in the living room. He had never been in Ezra's condo before. Looking around he had to admit, that while it was tastefully furnished, it didn't feel like a home. JD's and his place might be a mess most of the time but no one could say it wasn't homey. He wondered if Ezra knew how to go about making a home. From what he had said in Chris' office this morning and from what Buck could deduce from that, it would appear that he didn't. How could you make a home if you didn't know what one was? Buck thought about that. He was fairly certain that making a home for Ezra had been the last thing on Maude's mind if it had ever occurred to her at all. Damn but that woman had a lot to answer for.

It was four days before Ezra could return to work. The first two days were filled with pain, nausea, dizziness, and sweating. He knew Nathan was there. He could hear his concern and feel his caring hands. Josiah's rumbling voice was occasionally heard, too. There were brief visits from Chris, Vin and JD. But mostly there was Buck. Buck who held his head when he was sick. Buck who cleaned him afterwards and carried him back to bed. Buck who wiped him down with cool cloths and murmured comfortably to him Buck who discovered that, although most movement made him writhe in pain, gentle rocking soothed him. And it was Buck who held him and rocked him for hours. He couldn't begin to understand it but it was comforting and safe and he accepted it.

The third day was spent mostly in sleep. The pain had left and his stomach didn't feel quite so queasy. Buck was still there, bringing him endless cups of hot tea when he was awake, tea that Nathan recommended. It wasn't bad tea at all. Buck also brought him an occasional piece of dry toast, encouraging him in a quiet, affectionate voice to eat it all. The fourth day he got up, showered, and changed into a pair of clean pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Slowly he made his way into the living room where Buck waited. Chris had joined him and was sitting on the couch. Buck jumped up and came to him, guiding him to the couch, and sitting him down next to Chris. Then he sat on the other side.

"Glad to see you're feeling better, Ezra

"Thank you, Mr. Larabee. I'm glad, too." Ezra struggled for his next words. "I want to thank you, all of you, for taking such good care of me. No one's ever ... well; I'm just used to dealing with these things on my own."

"Was no problem, Ez. And you don't ever have to deal with anything on your own again. You know that, don't you? Ezra knew Buck and Chris were exchanging glances over his head. "Ezra," Buck continued, "Nathan says it's possible you might get another migraine in a week or two. If you do feel one coming on, you tell one of us. Understand?"

Ezra nodded. This must be the mother hen bit JD was always talking about. He supposed he should feel insulted by it but he couldn't. That comfortable, safe feeling was still there, but for appearances sake, he should complain a bit. "Now, Mr. Wilmington, I do know how to take care of myself. The pills just didn't work this time. They will the next time, I'm sure. You don't need to fuss over me." Buck snorted.

"Ezra." It was Chris this time. "Ezra, we need to talk."

Ezra shut his eyes and leaned back against the sofa cushions. Conversations that began with "we need to talk" never went well. This had to be about that damn birth certificate.

Chris was blunt. "I told Travis and he was pretty angry..."

The next thing Ezra knew he was back in the bathroom with Buck holding his head again and trying to sooth him. When he was at last finished, Buck leaned him back against the wall, wiped his face down with a wet washcloth, and then handed him a glass of water.

"Ezra." It was Chris, leaning against the doorframe. "Travis wasn't angry at you."

"He's furious with Mother, isn't he." Ezra rinsed his mouth out and leaned forward to spit in the toilet.

"He's just upset that the situation exists at all. Like we all are."

"Let's get you back into the living room." Buck pulled him up and they both got him back onto the couch and covered with an afghan. Ezra listened as they explained all that had happened in the last four days. They had told Travis everything, showed him both birth certificates and the files from Touro JD had printed out. When Travis had gotten through being angry, he had gotten busy. The first thing he had done was to obtain warrants to get the Touro files legally. Then he had contacted an associate of his who was currently working for Interpol. The associate had assured him that someone would be sent to the French town to obtain copies of the records there. Ezra had grinned at that. Apparently, an Interpol official could touch where one small American boy could not. On the off chance that his records were still stored somewhere at the French school, the official would go there, too. Attempts were being made to contact Maude but she was nowhere to be found. Everything that could be done was being done. Travis was determined that this mess be straightened out without any official harm coming to Ezra.

Ezra was astounded by that. "I didn't think he approved of me or even liked me."

"Hell, Ez, I don't know for sure that he does." Buck chuckled. "But he does know how to go about correcting a wrong. And you have been done wrong."

Ezra turned his head and looked out the window. He really didn't want to acknowledge that Maude had done this to him. Oh, he knew she had but it was too painful to contemplate. Once again, she had messed with his life. Actually, he couldn't understand why she had never come forward and used the fake birth certificate to get him thrown out of the FBI. He had already finished the academy and been on his first assignment when she had found out what he had done. It had been a very unpleasant confrontation. Any discussion with her about his law enforcement career was unpleasant. However, as much as she hated it, she would hate still more being arrested for fraud and forgery. That was the reason she had never used the documents against him. He sighed. He just wanted to shove all these thoughts into some box in his mind and forget it ever existed. That would not happen until this whole mess was cleared up.

"I'd like to go back to work tomorrow."

Chris looked at him. "Sure, Ez, if you feel up to it."

"I'm sure I will tomorrow. I think it would be best if I were to be kept busy just now."

Buck watched Ezra. He had been watching him closely for two weeks now and had made no move to hide it. If he watched over JD, he could watch over Ezra, too. Lord knew, somebody had to. And, somehow, his being so young made it even more imperative. The boy just didn' t take that good care of himself. He had begun nagging Ezra about his eating habits and his tendency to work to all hours of the night. The others got their digs in, too.

Buck smiled, remembering how they had all taken care of Ezra when he had come back to work from the migraine. Nathan had poured over his texts looking for something that would help Ezra with the headaches without causing the side effects the pills did. One morning he had come in with a big sack from a health food store. He had gotten feverfew for the headaches and crystallized ginger for Ezra's stomach, along with some fresh ginger to brew tea with. Nathan had made Ezra take the feverfew every morning and called him every night to make sure he had taken it. Ezra had grumbled and complained but eventually he had admitted the pills seem to be working, as the second migraine never did appear. He drank the teas without complaint, saying that they were surprisingly good, especially with the honey that Nathan had added. Moreover, he seemed to have developed a real liking for the crystallized ginger. The glass jar he kept it in had emptied in only a week. Buck had been seeing to it that it was kept full. Ezra had teased him about being a mother hen but had thanked him quietly in private.

Josiah had gotten tickets for the symphony and had insisted that Ezra was the one to accompany him. He had even dragged Ezra off to dinner first so he couldn't cry off between the time he got home and the time Josiah would pick him up. Josiah had reported to Buck that Ezra had had a very pleasant evening. Chris had taken to standing in his doorway so he could check on Ezra. Every couple of hours, he would walk over and sit on the edge of Ezra's desk to engage him in conversation. This had made Ezra very nervous. He was not used to so many pleasantries from Chris.

Even Vin and JD had done their part. They had hatched up some pranks and pulled Ezra in on them. Of course, Nathan, Josiah, and Chris had not been very pleased about it. They had been the unfortunate victims of the pranks. The one against Chris had gone particularly well. It had involved copious amounts of duct tape, brown bags, strategically placed smears of glue and an enormous amount of feathers. When Chris had come storming out of his office with feathers flying after him, JD, Vin and Ezra had burst into laughter. JD had fallen into his chair, Vin had slid down the wall, and Ezra had had to hold himself up on his desk. The others, after a moment of shocked silence, had given way to full blown belly laughs. Chris had just glared at them all.

His laughter dying down to snickers; Buck had walked over to Ezra and tousled his hair. "Good job, kid." Chris stopped trying to pick feathers off his shirt as silence suddenly fell over the room. Everyone tensed and waited for the explosion. None came. Ezra had simply smiled, ducked gracefully out from under Buck's hand, and gone to join Vin sitting against the wall. He had poked Vin in the ribs with an elbow, nodding his head toward Chris who had resumed plucking feathers from his shirt and hair. The two young men had dissolved into giggles again. A huge smile had spread across Buck's face. It had been good to see Ezra laughing like that. And with his tie off, his collar unbuttoned and his face so open and eyes so full of mischief, Ezra looked young and carefree, the way he always should have looked. It had warmed Buck's heart to see him like that.

Yes, they had all tried to keep Ezra occupied these last two weeks until the situation was officially cleared up. And it had been. Buck frowned. No thanks to the FBI. Those pricks had tried their damnedest to screw Ezra over, trying to get him charged with fraud and forgery. Travis had put a quick stop to that. The French school Ezra had attended had had a copy of his French birth certificate and Travis had pointed out that Ezra had actually been only 12 at the time. Did they honestly think a 12 year old could have perpetuated such a hoax? Then they had tried out a misrepresentation charge, claiming that Ezra had to have known about the deception. When Ezra had denied any knowledge, they had demanded a polygraph test. Ezra had just stared at the two FBI agents. But Buck had walked over and squeezed his shoulder, saying he would go with Ezra and be with him every minute. Then he had turned and given the agents a glare that Chris had later remarked rivaled his best. When he had turned back to Ezra, Ezra had looked up at from under his eyelashes and smiled, saying he would welcome Buck's company. Buck had beamed, delighted with Ezra's trust. Needless to say, the polygraph had proved Ezra's innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt. Proved it for the FBI at least. Team 7 had never had any doubt at all.

Now the waiting was over and things were slowly getting back to normal. Buck was still worried though. With the exception of the migraine, Ezra had shown little reaction to the news that he was only just turned 24. It had to be affecting him in some way but Ezra was keeping it well hidden. He was particularly adept at that and Buck didn't think it was a good thing. He believed in sharing your problems and your emotions, well, some of them at least. Keeping everything in just could not be good for your health, mental or physical. Eventually, Buck thought, it would all break through at once and the result would likely be chaos. There were some good changes in Ezra, though. He was a little more open and more prone to laughter. He also seemed to be easier around them. How he was when he was home alone, Buck didn't know so he tried to ensure that Ezra was alone as little as possible. He and JD had taken to showing up at Ezra's place; videos, pizza and beer in hand. On the occasions that JD had a date with Casey, Buck had gone by himself. Sometimes he and Ezra had just sat in companionable silence, watching the movie, and other times, they had talked about everything and anything under the sun. Everything but Ezra's feelings, that is. When Buck had tried to bring Ezra's age up, Ezra had deftly steered the conversation to another topic. Well, he would just continue to watch. Couldn' t hurt and it sure might help if Ezra were to have a meltdown or something.

Buck returned to his work but stopped when he heard a snicker. Vin was perched on the edge of his desk and JD was looking at him over his monitor. "Got a date this weekend?" Vin asked. Buck glared at JD. The kid had a big mouth. He had been teasing Buck for some time now about his ladies, or rather, the lack of them. It had been a few weeks since Buck had had a date. JD had evidently decided to share this bit of information with Vin. The kid definitely had a big mouth.

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't. I promised Chris I'd help him with some repairs to the barn and fencing and I'm going over there tonight so we can get an early start in the morning. It'll likely take us all weekend to get it all done. Might not even be able to finish it. Of course, it might get done quicker if one of you volunteered to help."

"Sorry, can't do it. Casey and I are going to a film fest. It lasts all weekend."

"And I already volunteered. I'll be up there early Saturday morning. Unlike you, I do have a date Friday night." Vin hopped off his desk and went to harass Ezra.

Buck looked over at JD. "Any smart remarks from you?" JD just shook his head and turned back to his work with a small, secretive, and knowing smile on his lips. Buck frowned. What in the hell was the kid up to now? Nothing good ever came of it when JD had one of "those" smiles. Buck sighed and returned to the files he had been studying. But his mind wandered to his strange and unusual lack of a social life. Not that there had been a lack of opportunities. The cute little red head who'd just started working in the third floor lab had introduced herself and had been flirting with him for a couple of weeks. Trying to flirt might be a better term for it because he had not, he now realized with some surprise, flirted back. He had definitely been pleasant and polite when they passed in the hall or got on the same elevator but he had not flirted. The same thing had happened when he had run into Melissa and her visiting sister in the deli last week. Melissa had been none too subtle in her hints that Buck should ask her sister out. But Buck had not asked. JD was right. There had been a lack of ladies.

Buck thought back over the past several weekends. The first weekend after Ezra came back to work, he and JD had spent it with the young agent. They had watched some videos, played a couple of games of cards with Nathan and Josiah who had dropped by, and just generally messed around.

Last weekend, he and Josiah had been stuck in a surveillance van all Friday night, doing a favor for Team 8 who had several agents down with the flu. On Saturday he and Ezra had gone to see the latest "cops and robbers" flick. Ezra had been rather hesitant about going. He had hemmed and hawed until Buck had finally asked him what was wrong. When he'd admitted that he was just wondering if he was the one Buck really wanted to go with, Buck had realized what was wrong.

"Hell, Ez," he'd replied, "Those sappy flicks the ladies want to see always put me to sleep. And movies like this one, well, they just don't get why I keep laughing when they don't see anything funny. It's always a lot more fun when we can go together and razz the actors when they're screwing up the procedures and such." He and Ez had had a good time though Ez had claimed to be embarrassed- mortified was how he'd put it-when Buck had thrown popcorn at the couple necking in front of them.

This weekend he was going to Chris'...and Ezra was going along. Not to work, mind you-he would do "supervision" only-but he would be there. Buck's brow furrowed. He sure seemed to be spending a lot of time with Ezra lately. He thought about that a moment, then shrugged. Ezra needed him right now and that was that. The ladies would have to do without him.

Ezra shifted behind the crates where he had taken cover. It had been several weeks since the mess with the birth certificates had been taken care of and everything had gone back to the way it normally was for Team 7. They'd had work, of course, nothing big; just some underage tobacco and alcohol sales and some research on a case that was coming up. Then Team 8 had requested them as backup. The bust should have gone smoothly. But when did they ever? The miscreants, as usual, had taken exception to being told to drop their guns. They did not intend to go to jail quietly and without fuss. So now the bullets were flying.

Ezra took sight along side the crate, fired, and then ducked back behind it again. Damn, he was hungry. He hadn't eaten any breakfast this morning and several hours ago he had developed a craving for the enchiladas Inez served at the Saloon. He had intended to go there on his lunch break but that idea had been shot all to hell when the gun battle had started. They had been at a standstill for an hour now and it didn't look like it would be ending anytime soon. He glanced at his watch and sighed. In just ten minutes, Inez would stop serving lunch. So much for the enchiladas. He was still hungry, though, and getting hungrier by the minute. Enough was enough. He had caught sight of several of the bad guys looking anxiously over at their leader. If he could get a shot at their boss, maybe the rest would give up and he could go get some lunch, even if it had to be Burger King. Glancing up at Vin, he tried to convey with hand signals what he intended to do. Vin obviously understood because he began shaking his head "no" very vigorously. Ezra just grinned up at him and put his plan in motion.

Taking a deep breath, Ezra leaped out from behind the crate, rolling as he hit the ground. He came to a stop and brought up his gun. Just as he had thought, the leader had also come out from behind cover to take a shot at him. Only Ezra got his shot in first and rolled back to his crate, hearing a shot come from up above; Vin, watching his back as usual. He wondered whom he had gotten. Peering out from behind the crate, he saw the leader and his second-in-command both rolling around on the ground, one clutching his right arm and the other his leg. They were both hollering and yelling. It seemed to be the same for all criminal types. Put a hole in them and they deflated like a balloon, hissing all the way. After a few more desultory shots, the others threw out their weapons and came out of hiding with their hands up. Team 8's leader indicated that the gun dealers were all accounted for and Chris called for a check in. Everyone answered and then came out onto the floor of the warehouse where the other team was now handcuffing all the suspects. Ezra laughed to himself. His plan had worked and the only holes were in the other side. It was a good bust.

He started in surprise as Buck yelled out his name, his voice harsh with anger. Turning around, he just had time to see the anger also flaring in Buck's eyes. Then the big agent grabbed him, his hands around Ezra's biceps and lifted him several inches off the floor until they were nose to nose. "Just what the hell did you think you were doing? Are you crazy?"

Ezra was still so hyped up on the adrenalin of his successful plan that he just laughed as Buck yelled. Buck stared at him for a moment or two and then lowered him to the ground. Throwing his hands into the air, he stalked away muttering something about gray hair and an early grave. Ezra just grinned. This evidently was a big mistake. Chris slammed him into the wall and took up where Buck had left off, only much louder and with more force. Ezra thought about making his usual sarcastic remarks, but something about the look in Chris' eyes told him it would be better to guard his tongue. So he spoke only to murmur "yes, sirs" and "no, sirs" and "you are right, Mr. Larabees". Eventually Chris threw his own hands up and walked away. Ezra looked after him. He could swear he heard Chris mutter something about blood pressure. At the door to the warehouse, Chris turned and ordered him back to the office to begin on the reports. Oh well, at least he could go through the drive-in at Burger King.

Some time later he heard the others come into the office. He listened for Chris' door to slam shut and when it did, he looked up from his industrious typing. Vin was standing next to his desk looking down into his trashcan and then looking up at him.

"I was hungry"

Vin bent over and pulled out the two bags, now empty of food. "Two bags worth, Ezra? You coulda at least saved me some fries."

"I was very hungry, Vin. Hungry enough to eat a bear. Hungry enough to eat a very big moose. Hungry enough to eat a scruffy sharpshooter." Ezra was still a little hyped from the adrenaline

Vin laughed and, balling up the two bags in his hands, he lobbed them at Ezra's head. Having seen what was coming, Ezra ducked. The balled up bags sailed over his head and hit Josiah squarely in the back. The big man turned slowly around and picked up the bags. He stared at them and then stared at the two young men who were now seriously and innocently intent on their work. Shaking his head, he dropped the bags into the wastebasket next to his desk and walked over to talk to Ezra. The talk was not pleasant, at least not for Ezra. Moreover, before the workday was over, he had to listen to Nathan and JD's talks, too. When JD finished and walked away, he looked over at Vin.

"That was a damn foolish thing to do, Ez. You can't blame them for being ticked off about it."

"But it was a good plan, wasn't it?" Ezra's good mood had evaporated with all the "talks" and doubts had begun to set in. They and the accompanying guilt built up over the rest of the afternoon.

By the time he went to bed, he was miserable. Was he wrong in what he had done? He now knew he had worried and upset the others. They couldn't possibly be upset about him having put himself in danger. Although they had all indicated that that was exactly what they were upset about. And they did seem to care about his well-being. Look how they had taken care of him when he was sick and when he was waiting out the birth certificate fiasco. But the tiny voice that was Maude's teaching told him it couldn't possibly be him they were worrying about. And in the dark, and alone, that voice carried a great deal of weight.

It also pushed all his other insecurities to the forefront. If they weren't concerned about him, then they were angry because what he had done had endangered one of the others. That had to be it, and if it were, would they still want him on the team? And what was he to do about his age? He had been cleared of any wrongdoing and all the records had been changed as though the wrong birth certificate and wrong birth date had never even existed. Nevertheless, being so much younger had to make a difference. He had worried and gnawed over this for quite awhile after discovering how old he really was. He thought, though, that he had finally managed to push it out of his thoughts. He was usually so good at that. However, here it was again along with many other worries he had thought he had also taken care of.

Oh God, he thought, I've been weak in front of them. I let them see parts of the real me. Will they use that against me? Is that really why they were so angry? They saw me as I am and now they know I do not measure up. Ezra's thoughts went on and on. He knew in some part of his mind that he was being irrational. It didn' t seem to matter at the moment. What did matter was getting back to his "workplace" persona. He could do that. He could become distant and cool again, push them away and rebuild his defenses. With that decided, he pushed at his pillows and tried to fall asleep. But a small part of him cried in silence.

Buck still watched Ezra and now he did not like what he saw. Ever since they had played backup for Team 8 Ezra had tried to distance himself from his teammates. He hadn't been altogether successful simply because they had refused to let him. However, he was decidedly cool toward them and most of the laughter and openness had left him. Buck slapped his hand on his desk. This was not going to continue. He leaned over and whispered an invitation to lunch to JD. "Make sure you bring Vin along with you, you hear. Meet me at that diner over on 5th."

"Buck, that place is awful."

"I know it is. And that's exactly why Ez won't show up there."

JD's eyes widened and he nodded in understanding.

An hour later, the three of them were seated at a table in one of Denver's greasiest diners. Buck was trying his best to get JD and Vin to agree to his plan. But they wanted no part of it. They reminded Buck of what Nathan, Josiah and, especially, Chris had threatened them with if they ever made them the target of their pranks again. JD and Vin were not stupid. Not enough time had passed for them to take the risk

"Fine. Then you can use me. Just dream up something really good and get Ezra to help. Only make sure he thinks it was all your idea. Can you do that?"

Vin grinned at JD. "Won't be a problem. I'm sure we can come up with something sinister enough to intrigue ol' Ez."

Buck winced. Put JD and Vin together and then add Ezra. He wasn't sure he would survive whatever the three of them would come up with. As long as it got Ezra back to the way he was before the Team 8 bust, he would go along with it. He sat back in his seat and thought. It surprised him the lengths he was going to, to get that Ezra back. It was something he would have to think on later. Right now, he had to try and get down the awful looking hamburger the waitress had just set in front of him.

At first, it looked like his plan was not going to succeed. Vin and JD had waited until the next day to approach Ezra. They were talking to him now and he kept shaking his head. They continued talking despite his apparent refusals. Finally, Buck heard Ezra snort in disgust. Damn, looked like that was it. He wasn't going to go for it. But then Ezra looked around and leaned his head toward theirs. It looked like they were in deep consultation. Buck gave a silent whoop.

Several days later and JD claimed he was going to spend the night with a computer buddy of his. They had something special planned and JD was even bringing clothes so he could go straight to work from his friend's house the next morning. Buck smirked. He knew better. JD was probably spending the night at Ezra's finalizing their plans. Vin was probably going to be there, too. Well, he would just have to remember to act surprised when the prank went down.

Buck took his time the next morning. He loved JD like a brother but the kid talked so damn much. It was pleasant to sit here sipping his coffee in the peace and quiet of their kitchen. So pleasant that he had another cup and was, therefore, late to work. As he walked into the building and into the elevator, he noticed several strange glances cast his way from the men and giggles from some of the women. He had the elevator to himself but when he got off at his floor, there were more giggles and glances. "Odd," he thought. "I wonder what's going on."

He was trying to puzzle it out when he walked into Team 7's offices and stopped dead, his mouth open, his eyes widening. All over the walls were pictures; before and after pictures. Some of them were the weakling kicked by the bully before, bemuscled hunk after variety. Others were the bald, then head full of hair type. Still others were of 300 lb. men turned into 180 lb. men. And they, every last one of them, had his face on them-in both the before and after pictures. He walked into the middle of the bullpen and turned slowly around. Yep, the pictures covered every bit of the place. They were even taped to the backs of chair and all over Chris' door. Nathan, Josiah, and Chris had evidently had time to control their laughter. They now just leaned against the walls, against some of those pictures, and smirked. Buck suddenly had a thought. Those strange glances and the giggles-some of those pictures had made their way out of this office and into others'.

"Where are they?" he bellowed. Strangled giggles and yelps came from the break room. He stomped his way in there. Three young men -"No, brats," he thought- were rolling on the floor trying stifle their laughter.

Ezra had one of the photographs in his hand and was waving it weakly at Buck. "Your face," he gasped, "You should have... have seen your... face." All three of them once again burst into uncontrolled giggles, clutching at their sides and once more rolling. Buck watched them for several moments, scowling. Then slowly the scowl became a smile and then he was laughing, too. The four of them laughed with tears streaming down their faces until Chris came to the door.

"Ladies, isn't there some work you're supposed to be doing." He made a point of looking at his watch. "You are on, after all, government time. And you three get rid of all those damn pictures. Seeing one of Buck's face is all I can tolerate a day. I don't know how long I can take looking at hundreds of them."

They all walked into the bullpen wiping their eyes. Buck went to his desk and the others began taking down the pictures. They frequently stopped to giggle when they came across one that particularly hit their funny bone. "Warped senses of humor," Buck muttered.

It was shortly before lunch that Chris got a call that took him to Travis' office and it was midafternoon before he walked back into the bullpen. He looked weary and angry. The other six men stopped their work and looked at him.

"Ezra, you're going to have to go under on a case with the FBI."

Sounds of protest filled the air as five of the men voiced their displeasure. None of them liked it when Ezra was forced into dealing with that agency. Ezra just stared at Chris in silence.

Chris held up his hand. "I know, I know. I don't like it any better than you do. I have spent the last three hours arguing with Travis about it and there's nothing either one of us can do about it. This order comes from a lot higher up than usual. They really want these guys and they know Ezra's their best bet on getting them."

Ezra smirked a little. It was good to know you were thought the best, even though it did not make up for having to work with his former employers. As he had overheard a Denver cop once say, they were Fat, Bald and Ignorant. His own fine figure exempted, of course.

Chris handed him a folder. "Travis had them fax all the details they had and you've got four days to study up on them and come up with a cover. You fly out to North Dakota in five days. It was as much time as he could get you."

Ezra grimaced. He hated going to the boondocks. And city or not, any place in North Dakota was the boonies. He looked up when Buck touched his arm. "If it's all right with you, Ez, I'll drive you to the airport," Buck said. Ezra started to say he would get a cab and then considered the look on Buck's face. The man was truly upset.

"Mr. Wilmington, I would like that."

Buck patted the arm he was still touching. "Good. I'd like that, too."

Five days later, Buck maneuvered his truck into the parking garage of the airport. "This really was not necessary, Mr. Wilmington. You could easily have dropped me off at the check in curb."

"Ez, when I said I'd take you to the airport, I meant into the airport. Now just hush and hand me that suitcase."

Ezra handed him the case and they walked into the building. They made their way to the check in counter and then to the security lanes. Ezra pulled out all the paperwork that granted him the right to carry firearms onto the plane and Buck pulled out his ATF ID. He was not above using it to get where only passengers were supposed to go. They slowly walked down toward the gate. It was still early and as they passed by a Starbucks, Ezra paused. "Would you care to have coffee with me, Mr. Wilmington?"

Buck glanced at his watch. "Sure, Ez, we've got time."

Buck and Ezra talked, laughing about the prank Ezra had taken part in. And Buck watched Ezra. I hope he's careful, he thought. Sure don't want anything to happen to him.

Ezra lowered his head to his cup and watched through downcast lashes Buck watching him. Buck had been motherhening him and watching him for some time now and Ezra had a suspicion as to why. He wished he had time to discover if his suspicions were correct but North Dakota was calling. He also wasn't sure what to do if what he thought was true was true. He had no experience in this kind of thing and he needed time to consider it, look at it from all angles. Maybe he would have a little time to think on this assignment.

Buck stood up as the PA system announced Ezra's flight. "Come on, kid. Let's get you on that plane." They walked up to the counter and Ezra produced his ticket, ID and the papers for the guns in the case he was holding.

"You do know you're going to have to leave that case in the flight compartment, don't you?" The attendant was brisk and professional.

"Of course he does, darlin', he's no rookie." Buck flashed his trademark smile at the attendant who was not so professional that she didn't blush a little.

Buck knew that Ezra had traded up the coach seat the ATF provided to first class so he held him back as the other passengers boarded. When everyone else had left the gate, he turned Ezra to face him. "You be careful, you hear me. And no fooling around, no idiot stunts. I'm going to be worrying enough as it is."

Ezra promised to be careful and to stay safe. The gate attendant was getting nervous looking at her watch and then at Ezra. "Sir," she called, "Sir, you have to board now." Ezra shrugged and grinned up at Buck. "See you soon," he said, turning and heading for the gate.

Suddenly he stopped and turned back to Buck. Walking quickly to him, he dropped his case, put his arms around Buck, and hugged him hard. Buck, startled and surprised, automatically put his arms around Ezra and hugged him back equally ashard. Ezra pulled back and whispered, "Take care of yourself, Buck, while I'm gone."

Buck reached out and tousled Ezra's hair. "Hurry back, Ezra."

Ezra picked up his case and hurried through the gate and down the walkway to the plane. And Buck Wilmington walked back down the corridor whistling, his heart filled with happiness fit to bust.

TBC in Con Man Sense