By now, Buck and Josiah had reached them and came to a halt, turning to once more survey the field of battle. Buck shook his head, it was too much like the war all over again. Not good. Raising his eyes to meet those of his old friend, he saw the same reactions reflected there. Sadness, tiredness, dissipating anger. Nope, don't want to do this again. He turned to look over at Ezra who was still gazing back up the hillside at the now empty crest.

"Hey, Ez, saw you come riding in at the head of those men. Like to be a sight from my nightmares, Pard, bringin' the war back at me." Buck spoke softly, trying to say something important without wanting to hurt his friend. He reached out and rested a hand on one shirt-clad arm.

Ezra looked around to find dark blue eyes studying him. He sighed. "Ah know, Mr. Wilmington. It is a nightmare that Ah regret havin' to have lived again as well." Then he turned a questioning and nearly fearful gaze to the tall silent ex-preacher. "And you, Mr. Sanchez, have you anything to say?"

Josiah smiled ruefully, his pale blue eyes encompassing the gambler, Larabee, Buck, and the dead men spread out around them. "Son, I never was in that unhappy war, but if this is a sample, and I suppose it to be from Brother Buck's remark, then I am very glad I was not." He stood back slightly and straightened. "Though, Mr. Standish my friend, you were an impressive sight." He touched two fingers to his brow and then nodded as he lowered his arm and turned away.

Ezra watched him go with an expression of surprise and wonder.

"He's right, you know," Buck dropped his hand from Ezra's arm. "You were a sight to see, riding down that hill in Reb officer get up, them men at your back. Damn, Ez, I'd follow you any time. Always knew you were a deep one." He clapped Chris on the back of one shoulder and grinned. "You got yourself some competition here, Pard."

"No, no, Mr. Wilmington, never that." Ezra smiled over at Chris who was standing there, hands on the handles of his re-holstered guns, face bland but eyes sparking with humor and pride -- and love. "Mr. Larabee's job of leader of our small band of brothers is safe from any challenge. I chose to follow also."

Chris stepped slightly closer, as if to lend support. "Buck and Josiah are right, Ezra. You did good. You make a damn fine officer and leader." Chris folded his arms across his chest as if to put closure to the conversation, glad that both of their friends had seen and recognized Ezra's powerful role in the day. He wanted Ezra to hear their words and take them to heart. He deserved them and much more. And now to put this day behind them. "Buck, you and Josiah get the undertaker's wagon back here. This mess needs cleaning up before nightfall."

JD had been cornered by several of the townsmen, excited and nervous about their parts in the events, wanting some praise which JD gladly and generously gave them. He saw Buck and Josiah speak with Ezra and Chris briefly before moving on. Saw the way Ezra slumped as their two tall friends left, turning to face Larabee with almost a plea on his face. Dunne wanted to help but wasn't sure what was wrong. Nodding and patting the backs of various men, from ancient to mere teenagers, he started edging towards where his two friends still stood.

Nathan Jackson didn't waste time, clambering down the stairs of the building he'd used for his perch, anxious to see to his friends. He knew that Ezra must still be hurting. He had that broken wrist and nose, take them a while to heal, and his body wasn't in too much a better shape. He carried with him the image of Ezra leaping from his horse, drawing a short sword as he did, and fighting a charging outlaw with only the sword, running it through in a few swift and skillful strokes. Damn, the man held out on me, making me think I was the better swordsman! I gotta tell him I saw that.

Bursting out of the nearest alleyway, Nathan strode over to his friends. "Ezra!" The man swung around to face him, knees bending slightly as he began a defensive crouch only to relax and stand up again as he evidently recognized Jackson. Nathan smiled broadly, "That was some move you made with that sword." With a quick movement, Jackson put his foot on the ribcage of the dead man and drew the sword from its corporeal sheath. "This yours?"

Standish was backing away from Nathan's enthusiasm, head lowering and hands dropping to his sides. He turned his face slightly to the side, without rudely turning completely away. He began to chew on his lower lip. Then he was bumping into Chris who stood there behind him. One of Larabee's hands came up to clamp firmly on Ezra's shoulder. "Don't worry," Chris' voice was low, hardly more than a whisper meant only for Standish's ear. "He means well. He just hasn't thought this all through yet. Nathan's got a good heart."

"Ah know." Ezra smiled up and back into those talking hazel eyes. "Thank you."

Chris smiled slightly and squeezed the shoulder under his hand.

By now, Jackson was in front of them. Holding out the short, bloody sword. "This yours?" He repeated quietly, sensing finally the mood of the other two men.

"It was." Ezra did not reach out for the reddened blade. "Ah do not wish to retain it any further." He looked down at his hands, splattered with the blood from that final thrust. "I've too much blood on mah hands as it is." Somehow, both listening men knew that Ezra was not referring to the few droplets coating his hands at that moment. Chris' hand began to rub at Ezra's shoulder now, thumb pressing deeply behind the ball.

"We all do."

Nathan looked back down at the weapon he held. Somehow, all his excitement was waning. Like the knives that he kept honed for protection in his new job as lawman, this sword was only for harming folks. His first love was helping, he had other blades for that. He dropped the blade to the trampled, grassy ground. "Yeah, guess that's right."

For a few silent moments, the three men stood there contemplating the short sword where it lay on the ground. Then JD joined them, looking from face to face perceptively. "Some day, huh?"

Ezra leaned back against Chris and nodded slowly, "There, Mr. Dunne, you have said it all with brevity and wisdom."

JD's eyes gravitated to the bloody sword. "That was yours during the war, wasn't it, Ez?"

"Yes, Mr. Dunne." The weariness of the response was not lost on the others, Chris finally giving in to his instincts and circling the waist of his friend to provide support. He felt Ezra sag back further against him, accepting the support and closeness without his usual protests against assistance from others.

"You don't want it anymore, huh?"

"No, Mr. Dunne, Ah am finished with it." Ezra turned aside his head, not wanting to see the weapon any more or the gleam of pride in JD's eyes.

"Could I have it, Ez? Y'know, like a remembrance? Of the war and of you?"

"My dear JD," Ezra was flushing as he looked back to face JD Dunne. "It is yours if you so desire." He thought of his own youthful studies of history and his eagerness to be part of that war when it started so short a time ago. It had aged him prematurely, in ways that even Maude's wayward method of raising a son had never done, left him with a past that he did not want to relive. He shook his head, "War is best remembered by those who were never part of it. Take the thing, but remember this also, JD," he looked deeply into the dark brown eyes watching him with such attention, "It is a thing of death, not life."

"Sure, Ez," JD wasn't sure which was the greater honor, the possession of the sword, or the fact that Ezra had addressed him by his first name and spoken to him so seriously. Stooping, he lifted the heavy thing and with a bashful smile, turned away to head back into the town. Several young boys hanging back near the buildings swarmed forward to meet him, clearly plying him with questions as they each delicately touched the sword he carried, following him back into the main street.

Nathan, ashamed now of his earlier unthinking comments, moved slowly closer to where Chris held Ezra, the two men nearly swaying. "Ezra? How about we go back up to my clinic, let me clean you up some and check your wrist?"

Ezra closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and sent a silent appeal up over his shoulder to the man tenderly holding him.

"How 'bout I take old Ez here over to the bath house first. We can both get cleaned up, I'll see that he doesn't over exert himself." Chris felt the small body against him relax. He added, to appease Nathan -- and his own worries, "We'll come up afterwards for you to check him."

Nathan was about to protest when he caught the silent command in those glinting hazel eyes. Chris wasn't asking permission, just telling how it would be. And, Nathan had checked Ezra over back at the gang's camp. Just from where he stood, he could see there was no new injury to deal with, so, the rest could wait a spell. "Long as you get him up when you're done." Chris or no Chris, Nathan wasn't about to lose a patient to carelessness when a few moments checking healing bones could prevent it.

He reached out and patted Ezra on his arm, then nodded to Larabee and started back into town. There were a few minor injuries he'd spotted among the town's defenders, not the Seven, but some others. A few cuts from falls, a gunshot graze. He'd see to them and wait for his friends.

Chris crooked his neck so he could look down and around at Ezra's face. "Shall we go?"

Green eyes looked back up, clearly tired and in some pain that the smaller man no longer tried to suppress, but also filled with affection and a dollop of mischief. Chris' heart clenched at the sight. Damn, when did I fall in love with this scallywag, anyway? He's got me good. He smiled. "Green Eyes, let's get you cleaned up and fixed up. Then, after Nate takes a look at you--"

"Yes?" Came the breathy question, those dear green eyes large and expressive, telling Chris more than any words just how much his little gambler cared.

"Why then, Ezra P. Standish, we're going up to your room and really get to know one another."

"We are?" Ezra felt a rush of pressure building inside, like a capped volcano. He wanted to grab hold of the taller gunman, press kisses all over his gorgeous face, tease those sweet lips apart, see the humor and love, so carefully hidden and seldom seen by any, in those mystical hazel eyes, changeably green, brown, and blue. My sweet, sweet angel. "Angel," he breathed out softly.

Chris smiled into those soft, vulnerable eyes that he just knew no one had ever seen, and felt the love there. And, he called me angel again. Don't feel much like one, except when Ezra's here in my arms, then I am in heaven. That thought, though, led to another, much more realistic one. Hell, we're standing out here for God and country to see, mooning at each other. Won't help us none to act this way in public. With a final hug, he turned his loving hold into a more obviously supportive one and began to guide Ezra out of the field of dead and toward the back entrance to the baths. That was when he spotted Vin, standing quietly in the shadow of the nearest building, his long gun in the crook of his arm, clearly standing watch over them. Protective, their friend. He nodded at the blue-eyed sharpshooter and urged Ezra forward.

Confused green eyes looked back up at his. "Ezra, we need to get you moving and if we want any future together, the middle of town isn't the best place to get it started."

Eyes sharpening with awareness, Standish paled at what he and Chris had nearly done, out in plain sight. Oh my goodness, Mother would shake her head at her careless baby boy. His lips quirked into a suggestive smile. "As long as there's a later, back in mah room."

"Yep, that's another promise, Green Eyes." Chris' voice had a smile.

Ezra pushed ahead while holding enough on the arms that helped him keep upright so that they didn't part. This was one touch he'd make sure to prolong, he thought, with a small smile that he smothered into his clean, poker face for the townsmen. He saw Vin standing to the side and sending a silent nod at Chris over his shoulder. Good friends are indeed treasure, he decided as they made their way back towards the bathhouse's rear door.

"JD?" Mary caught up with the young sheriff just as he and his following crowd of young boys reached the middle of the main street. She'd hung back until then, having witnessed much of the attack from a window in the hotel, down the street a bit from the main brunt of the charge, but close enough so that she saw Standish and Chris lead the second group of men in some sort of a rear guard attack. She had no idea where the second group had come from, unless her father-in-law, Orrin Travis, had enlisted them somehow. She wasn't on very good terms with the man at this moment, though, so she would get her information elsewhere. She'd watched the carnage with a tight frown, clutching her own rifle to her chest, ready to fire if more assistance was needed. She wanted more of the townspeople, however, to become involved, to actually step forward and help defend their town. So she'd watched and waited. She would have quite a few names for a town defenders' honor roll for her next edition of the Clarion. The townsmen would be proud as peacocks, absolutely insufferable for a while, but at least they'd be more likely to help out Chris and his men if the need arose another time.

His men. His man. Standish! Damn that man. He acted so funny out there. First brandishing a sword of all things, and she had no idea where he'd gotten that from. Probably won it in a poker game, she thought disparagingly. Then he'd fought along side Chris. She'd spotted the way Larabee favored one arm slightly. He must be hurt. I need to go to him, soon, let him know that I do care. Then, then she'd seen Standish put on an act worthy of any thespian. Nearly swooning like a woman. Here, Mary paused and frowned, damn, I shall NOT start using such phrases, so derogatory of women! She gathered her scattered wits and recalled again how the town conman had managed to get Chris to hold him up, so closely. Even Nathan had seen that there was nothing really wrong with the man, he'd gone right up to them, then left them without even checking Standish like he normally would one of the men when an injury was suspected. She bit her lower lip in anger. Chris had still supported Standish as they headed into town, moving toward the back of the bathhouse. Oh, that was really good, oh, yes, the bathhouse. Wouldn't our Mr. Standish be able to make hay in there? She gritted her teeth into a smile for JD Dunne who now stopped his forward progress toward the jail and tipped his hat to her with his free hand, his other one holding Standish's sword.

"Yes, Ma'am, Mrs. Travis."

"I saw some of the fighting," she began in a rush, trying for some solid enthusiasm as a reporter. "That sword. I saw Mr. Standish wielding it. I imagine it has quite an interesting history?"

JD swelled up, smiling broadly, the small boys who still clustered about him an avid audience. "Ma'am, it was his sword during the war. He was kinda tired just now, so we didn't discuss it much, but I'm hoping he'll tell me more about when he used it and where, once he's feeling better."

"Feeling better?" Mary managed an innocent, concerned tone to her voice with back teeth gritted in disgust, the conman had conned poor JD too.

"Yeah, he seemed a bit out of it just now." JD sighed, "He's hurt and was kinda sad-like, too."

"Ah, yes." Mary nodded wisely and began to edge away slightly. "Where could I find Mr. Larabee, do you know? I'd like to ask him a few questions for the story I'll write on this."

JD looked doubtfully at Mrs. Travis. "I think he's kinda occupied right now with Ez. When I see him again, I'll tell him you want to talk with him, Ma'am." JD tipped his hat again as the newspaperwoman nodded her thanks and was off in a swirl of petticoats. For just a moment, JD hesitated, unsure why he suddenly felt a bit uneasy. Then he shrugged it off to the way the last few days had been and led his eager audience on toward the water trough in front of the jail. He'd wash the sword first, get rid of the blood. Maybe Ezra would look on it more calmly without that reminder of the day.

"Easy now, Ezra," Chris warned as he led the way up the slickly wet back steps of the bathhouse. With a tap on the door, he moved them on inside without waiting for an answer. Ezra was still walking with only a bit of a lean, but Chris figured once the adrenaline high wore off, his friend was going to be hurting. The hot water would help ease that. He'd make sure of that himself, he thought with a smile. Feel good to me, too. He shifted his injured arm, feeling a twinge of pain. At least I'm not light-headed anymore.

It took only a few seconds of conversation to get the bathhouse tender busy bringing in the buckets of hot water for the curtained area that Chris selected. He tugged the drapes in place to help Ezra undress. With a supporting hand on the smaller man's good arm, he unbuttoned and gently pulled off the simple shirt. Oh, my. In keeping with his role, Ezra had no undershirt on, and the bits of smoothly firm torso revealed between strips of bandage, even this small view, had Larabee licking his lips in anticipation. "You're so beautiful, Ez," he whispered into one ear as he pulled the man against him to lean there as he unfastened the old Confederate gray and red trousers and tugged them down, along with simple under shorts, until both puddled around his rough riding boots. Encouraging Ezra to use him for a support, he bent over to lift first one, then the other leg clear of boots and clothing. A gloriously naked Ezra stood wobbling in front of him now, a nest of golden reddish brown hair curled beguilingly around the rosette of his genitals. Chris blinked at the sight, finding his mouth suddenly dry as he stood back up and rested his hands on the sleek arm muscles of his friend. The battered ribcage was still wrapped, as was the broken wrist, the face badly discolored, both eyes darkening on either side of the broken nose. Very gently, Chris planted a butterfly light kiss on the end of Ezra's nose, watching those green-lantern eyes cross as they followed him on his mission of tenderness.

"Ez, I'm gonna unwrap those bandages and then let's get you into a tub, Ez."

The next few minutes were painful for Standish and thus also so for Chris who worried he might make things worse for his friend. He helped the man step in and lower himself down into the long tin tub of hot water. The sigh of relief from the little gambler was echoed by the tall, lanky gunman who had yet to shed his clothes. After making sure that Ezra could keep himself seated in the tub and that he could reach soap and sponge, Chris rapidly stripped and stepped into the neighboring tub, the only other one in their cubicle of curtained space. He reached over the two rims separating him from Ezra and began to soap up Ezra's chest, using the sponge to wipe away the foam afterwards. Ezra moaned in pleasure at Chris' touches, finally leaning back in the tub and sinking down as his knees rose up in the soapy water. The gambler closed his eyes to better savor his enjoyment of the sensations on his skin, tipping his head against the high back of the tub. Smiling, he hummed tunelessly as Chris sponged his shoulders and began to work on his neck, wiping up the sweep of throat to stroke the underside of the jaw.

The curtains were flung open with a savage haste and there stood Mary Travis, her blonde hair pulling free of the French twist and strands hanging loosely around her face, her pale green eyes flashing with irritation. "Mr. Larabee!"

Chris looked up calmly, not stopping his actions, not even hesitating. Fuckin' woman could watch if that's what she wanted. He noticed that Ezra had stopped humming but otherwise was still, almost looking like he'd fallen asleep, eyes closed and head back, body seemingly relaxed in a sprawl in the filled tub. Only Chris could feel the sudden tension beneath his hands at Mary's intrusion.

Speaking slowly and dryly, Chris answered. "Mary."

Mary Travis stood there, vibrating with anger, staring hard into Chris Larabee's darkened hazel eyes. How dare he act like what he was doing with Standish was appropriate! "Don't you think that Mr. Standish can bathe himself?"

Chris' eyes slid half shut, the lowered lids shielding his own temper. He would not explode in front of Ezra, if it was the last thing he did. He knew Mary was upset with him and, after his vocalizing the other night, by extension, with Ezra, but Ezra had done nothing to deserve her cutting tongue. "Mary. You don't belong in here when men are bathing. Leave."

Fuming, the widow wanted to scream but tightened her lips expressively, a harsh 'v' of frown lines creasing her forehead between her brows. "If the people of this town knew about you two," she left her statement unfinished, a half-veiled threat.

Ezra had been holding his breath now for some time. Slowly he let it out, still not opening his eyes. Chris' hands continued to stroke him with the soapy sponge and the rhythm was unchanged. Our relationship is unchanged. He's mine now, Mary, you can't have him, Ezra thought with unaccustomed anger. His breath caught at that realization. Do I have the right to feel this way? He let his head sink forward down on to his chest, no, perhaps not.

Chris noted the change in Ezra from relaxed and appreciative to tense and uncomfortable. This stops now. Heavy lidded, he met Mary's angry eyes with his own, hiding nothing. "Only way they might think they know somethin' is if you tell 'em. Then Ez and I will leave, likely the rest of the men will follow. Think on that, MRS. Travis."

Then, Chris twisted slightly in his tub, letting his body rise enough to expose more of himself than was decent to a proper lady, and turned more toward Ezra. He leaned over the smaller man and pushed the sponge back up Ezra's chest until he'd forced it under the lowered chin, pushing that up in the process. And bringing Ezra's sadly down-pressed mouth within kissing range. With a small smile at the still closed eyes, he leaned in, watching, as he kissed those lips gently. Two startled green eyes flicked wide-open, total surprise for both Mary and Chris to see. Ezra tried to speak only to find that Chris was taking advantage of the now parting lips to insinuate his tongue within Ezra's mouth, licking and probing delicately, lovingly. When he finally pulled back, Ezra's eyes were closed again and a beatific smile was painted across his damaged face. My angel, he thought, calm once more, knowing with supreme confidence that Chris would handle Mary Travis.

Chris kissed each bruised cheekbone tenderly before turning to look over his shoulder to where Mary still stood, frozen in outrage. She looked like pale death itself. But her eyes were shuttered and her face was still, emotion having fled to leave a cold and expressionless visage behind. Not as good as Ezra's poker face, but not bad, he had to acknowledge.

"I see." Mary Travis did see, more than just the arrogant gunslinger whom she thought might make a good father for her son, husband for her. More than just the dashing of those half-formed plans. She saw, as ever, her vision of this town, the one her Steven had fought so hard for. That she now guarded fiercely. This town still needed these seven men, it still needed Chris Larabee. She wasn't so sure it needed one Ezra Standish, but she was not a stupid person. If Larabee wanted Standish, and he was being hurtfully blatant about it now, then she would have to let Chris have him. At least, for now.

"Good. Now, get out." Chris turned away from her again, half kneeling in his tub to bend over Ezra's. "Ez and me are busy."

Without another word, Mary Travis spun on her heels and left the way she'd come. She didn't see Vin Tanner lounging, back to the inner side of the bathhouse door. Didn't feel his eyes as they followed her out the door. Didn't see him move to quietly close and secure the door behind her. She's gonna bear watchin' some. Woman scorned, think Buck said one time, is a dangerous thing. Vin moved past the curtained space where his friends were. He could hear Chris' voice, a low murmur, but no answer from Ezra, and he distinctly heard the sound of a large splash. He smiled and continued on to the front of the bathhouse where he took the empty seat at the door and sat again. Shoulda locked that back door ta begin with, he shook his head at his own lack. Know better next time. He tipped his chair back on two legs and pushed his wide brimmed hat forward to shade his eyes, his long gun settled on his lap between two relaxed but ready hands.

Ezra had been feeling dreamy with Chris' tender kiss. He heard Chris send Mary Travis away and felt whole, healed for the first time in a long time. Chris cares for me. Ezra P. Standish. Me. Ezra was smiling, eyes closed, whole being relaxed when Chris leaned further over Ezra's tub, precariously balanced on one knee in his own neighboring tub.

"Hey, Ez? Open those great green eyes for me, love."

The southerner's smile grew and his eyes opened to find Chris hovering just above him. He cricked his neck to look up into Larabee's happy eyes, seeing the gorgeous form of his naked love there for his pleasure. With a mischievous glint, Ezra reached up with his uninjured limb to tickle the exposed stomach, sleek and taut. Chris let out a choked, half muffled chuckle and ducked. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), that pushed his balance off center and with an awkward scramble, Christopher Larabee tipped into Ezra's tub, headfirst. There was a loud splash as the bigger man landed in the bath water, his feet kicking free of his own tub in the process, only adding to the mess. With a twist and wriggle, Chris pulled himself back up and into Ezra's tub completely, ending up in a tangle of legs with the man, facing him.

Ezra grinned, water dripping off his face and hair from the mighty splash. "Welcome to my humble abode of the moment, Mr. Larabee."

Larabee grinned back. "Not so humble, after all, you're in it." Then he dove forward and let his hands slide under the water to fumble for his new goal.

Ezra sat up straighter and tried to close his knees together - too late! "Chris!" he gasped.

"Just checkin' to make sure nothing important is missing or hurt." The carefree tone and playful fingers had Ezra blushing a florid pink all over.

Chris leaned back, lightly dragging his fingers along the insides of Ezra's thighs, from where they had been stroking his genitals down to the backs of his knees. Ezra inhaled sharply, his toes curling involuntarily, only to find them brushing against the undersides of Chris' own thighs. Chris slid closer with a wicked smile. "Feels like you're intact." He leaned in and stole a quick kiss, not lingering, then leaned back away to study his little gambler. "Ya know, Ezra, you really are cute."

"Cute? CUTE?" Ezra tried to look affronted but couldn't maintain the frown. Chris thought that he looked cute. A dimple began to form. "Well, mah friend, you have a certain dashing charm, when viewed in the altogether, yourself."

Chris looked down at himself where he sat in the water, his body looking scarred and worn to him. If Ezra was happy with it, that was all that mattered. He reached out and looped his arms gently around Ezra. Mindful of the beating and the damage inflicted to the smaller man, feeling his own twinge of pain at his bullet graze, Chris carefully drew the other closer and closer through the water until their legs were straddling each other and they were glued, chest to chest. Experimentally, Chris flexed his hips, pushing his now hard shaft up against Ezra's rapidly filling one. "Ah!" With an inarticulate cry of sheer pleasure, he repeated the motion, feeling Ezra's arms come around him, the one holding him with a tight clench, the other one with the broken, still splinted wrist, more tentatively. "How's that?" he asked hoarsely.

"That, Chris, is most certainly the most wonderful feeling I've ever felt." Ezra was trying to emulate Larabee's hip movement, copying the thrusting, rubbing motion. Both moaned this time and began to stir against each other, still held tightly in each other's arms. The friction, lubricated by the soapy water, was becoming increasing heated. Panting now, Ezra hissed, "Don't stop, please, don't stop!"

"Couldn't if I wanted to," Chris muttered into Ezra's ear and then moaned again, Ezra quickly joining him in a chorus of faint animalistic sounds. Those only stimulated Larabee further who found himself growing painfully hard, throbbingly so, as he continued to press close and rub against the wiry curls of Ezra's pubic hairs, scrotum wrinkles, and slickly thick penis with his own. Their thrusting heads dueled beneath the water as Ezra succumbed to the enactment of a fantasy and began to chew on Chris' shoulder where it joined with his straining neck muscles. In turn, Chris bit down blindly, fiercely on Ezra's neck, marking his lover.

With choked off screams, both men reached full heat at the same moment, spasming and ejaculating against each other's groins in the bath water. With a sigh, Ezra ceased to gnaw at Larabee's now reddened shoulder and rested his forehead in exhaustion against the strong muscle and bone there. Chris expelled a held breath on a sigh of his own, almost another groan. That had been the best he'd ever had, ever. Wonderingly, he lightly traced his fingers over the lightly freckled pale skin of Ezra's back, planting soft kisses all along Ezra's neck and jaw line, the only part he could reach as his lover's head was buried against his shoulder. "That was fine, Ezra, mighty fine." His murmur was barely above a whisper but Ezra could hear the smile in the words.

"Oh, yes," the southerner was sublimely happy now, wet and clinging to Chris Larabee in an tired ecstasy of afterglow, all pain temporarily subsumed by their encounter, "and, don't forget your promise. After this, mah room."

"Hum. Think we intended a visit to the clinic in there somewheres."

"Ah suppose so, but really, Ah am feelin' ever so much better now."

"Ez, so am I but you know what I mean." Chris slowly separated them and sat back still loosely holding his friend by the arms. "I want us to be together from now on and that means making sure you're well again."

"From now on?" Ezra's eyes began to fill with moisture.

"Hey. Green Eyes." Chris wiped away an errant tear that escaped the brimming eyes, "I love you. Took me a while to get it, you know, 'cause you can be right ornery when you want, a regular bad boy."

"A bad boy?" Ezra mused, blinking away the wetness still threatening.

"Yep. But I figure that I'm what our distinguished newspaperwoman calls the bad element, so why not match up the bad element and the bad boy?"

Ezra grinned reluctantly, raising his uninjured wrist and hand to wipe at his eyes. "Indeed, why ever not?" Neither made further reference to Mary Travis.

"And, I definitely don't intend to move on, Ezra." Chris' tone became serious, dropping the teasing quality. "You are my forever."

"And you are mine, Chris." Ezra kissed his new lover, new love, with equal seriousness and commitment. Then he added, a bit plaintatively, "So, now can we move this to mah bed?"

"Boys?" Vin's voice sounded from outside the curtain.

Chris grinned at Ezra and kissed his damaged nose again with another feather-light touch. "Yeah, Vin?"

"'less you want to carry on with Nate in there with you, I suggest you get movin'."

"He's coming?"

"Yep, nearly at the steps now."

"Aw, hell." Vin's compact smile quirked up higher at the ends at the sound of frustration in Ezra's voice.

"Yeah, well, better hurry."

Chris grasped the edges of the tub and heaved himself up. Stepping free of the tub, he looked down at a pouting Ezra. With an affectionate smile, he patted the diminutive man on the top of his curly chestnut haired head. "Time to get out, Ez." He reached down and hooked his arms under the other man's and lifted the smaller man easily to his feet.

Nathan found them standing beside the tubs, Chris toweling Standish dry, another towel knotted about his own waist.

Josiah leaned over to knock shoulders with Buck where the ladies man stood in the street, looking toward the bathhouse. Both men had seen Mary Travis emerge from the nearby alley, the hem of her dress suspiciously damp. "Chris is in there with Ez, isn't he?"

Buck nodded. "Yep. That's what Nate told me. Said he was going to check him out after Ez and Chris got cleaned up some."

Josiah tipped his head toward the vanishing back of Mrs. Travis as the flustered looking newswoman entered the offices of the Clarion. "Trouble, then?"

Buck nodded again. "Looks like." He thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "Well, after what we seen up at the gang's camp, and the way Chris stuck to Ezra just now, guess any chance Mrs. Travis thought she had is gone."

The preacher kicked at the dust in the street. "Now we just have to soothe some ruffled feathers, maybe console a hurtin' heart."

The ladies man looked askance. "We? Now just a minute there, Josiah, I don't ever go lookin' for trouble with an angry lady, just don't pay."

Sanchez frowned, eyes still on the newspaper office. "Not a good idea to leave it as is, brother. Our sister could make things very difficult for our brothers if she chooses." He weighed his next words with care. "How are you doing with them being together?"

"Ezra and Chris?" Buck's eyes were scanning the now returned to normal street in front of the two lawmen. "Figure that's their business."

"Chris is an old friend?" Sanchez probed quietly, eyes finally leaving the unchanged office door to meet midnight blue eyes as serious as his own paler ones.

"Yeah, he is. And Ezra is a new one." Buck smiled and clapped a hand on the solid shoulder of the big man. "I'm happy for them."

Sanchez finally smiled. It started as a simple folding of the lips, but grew, exposing teeth until Josiah's entire face was an enormous toothy smile. "Me too, praise the lord." He scratched his head and sighed. "Want to keep them happy, and us too. That means finding a way to heal a certain lady's heart."

Buck shook his head. "'Siah, be careful. I don't think it's her heart you gotta worry about none." He continued slowly, "With Mrs. Travis, this town and her Billy come first. Think she liked the idea of Chris being top dog of the law protectin' her town. Don't hurt none that he gets along so well with her son, neither. Thing is, I think she was real interested in Chris for husband material, but not so sure she had any real feelings for him."

Josiah had listened, realizing as he did that Buck was more insightful than he'd given the ladies man credit for. And, he was probably right. Never had he seen any signs of true love between the two blondes, but he certainly had recognized it when he and the others saw Chris with Ezra in that camp. So, he was dealing with an intellectual puzzle, not a broken heart. Hum.

Nathan stood wiping his hands with a towel, getting the extra ointment off. He'd applied it liberally to Ezra's torso before re-wrapping the ribcage to support the bruised ribs and muscles. Already the swelling was reducing on the nose and it looked like the rough early medical help he'd gotten had placed the broken bones and damaged cartilage right. Ezra's classic features were re-emerging. The rainbow hues on face and body would remain for another few days, gradually fading already. Nathan cocked his head as he studied the job he'd done on the broken wrist. Ez will be tempted to use that so I put on extra splints to keep it from movin' for a while. He could tell by the way Standish was hunched over on the bed's edge, staring at the immoveable appendage, that the man was not happy.

"Nathan? Can we go now?" Larabee's quiet, patient tones gave the healer warning that the man was tired and ready to depart on his own but was trying to be courteous.

Turning to look over the gunslinger, Jackson remained serious. "Try not to use that arm too much, Chris. It's healin' fine but the scabbing will break easy for a day or two. Use that paste I gave you."

Chris grimaced but nodded. The stuff was greasy and smelled of herbs and some earthy pitch, maybe pine tar, he wasn't sure. It did keep the rough wound soft and pliable, though, and he trusted Nathan to know what would help. "Yeah, I will." Then Chris flicked his eyes over to where Ezra sat in silence. The man must be exhausted, between the pain, the tension, and the exertions. Time to get him into bed -- to sleep. He smiled briefly at the thought of the arguments that might provide. Nah, Ezra is a sensible man and he knows he's tired. And, we got the rest of our lives. This brought the smile back and kept it hovering on his face as he addressed the little gambler. "Ez? If you're ready, I'll walk you over to your room."

Instantly, the chestnut haired head came up, green eyes smiling. "Yes, Mr. Larabee, that would be quite acceptable," here Standish turned toward Jackson, "if the good Mr. Jackson is done?"

"All done for now, Ez, but I want to check that wrist in the morning. Now you see that you don't loosen that splint none, we want those bones to mend up right."

Ezra nodded in gratitude. "I shall be careful, and, thank you, Nathan."

Brown eyes widened and a pleased look showed Ezra that the healer was touched by the way Standish had addressed him.

The two men rose and Chris led the way out of the small clinic, with a final nod to their friend Jackson. Nathan stood pondering his friends, long after their departure. He understood the changed relationship between the two men. Couldn't say he approved or disapproved, simply found it another example of the way humans could adapt. He'd seen plenty in his short life and as long as these men didn't harm each other or anyone else, it was alright with him. He had to chuckle then, a smile sliding and widening across his face. Them boys were gonna have some fun, just hope they restrained themselves a bit until they were both better healed. Shaking his head, he thought, maybe it's time to take a ride out to the Seminole village, visit with Rain. With light heart, Nathan tossed his head back in a laugh.

Josiah walked slowly, crossing the now busy late afternoon main street, and stepping up on to the boardwalk. With a grunt, he turned to face Buck where the other man had settled on a chair in front of the saloon. Vin had joined him at some point. They'd all seen Nate escort their friends up to his clinic from the bathhouse. Guess Vin figures that Nathan'll protect them there. His pale blue eyes taking on a distant look, Josiah Sanchez made his way up the boardwalk to the offices of the town's only newspaper. Inside he could hear the sounds of clicking, type being set. Mary was busy.

Sanchez wondered what he should say. Maybe nothing. Maybe just be there, lend an ear. He stopped at the open door and leaned against it negligently, idly. In the dimmer interior, he could see Mary Travis' hands flying across the type board, clearly composing as she set the small bit of metal type. Damn, that's a talent all by itself, he thought with admiration.

"Yes, Mr. Sanchez?" Without looking up or slowing, Mary asked. Josiah noticed the smudge of printer's ink on one high pale cheekbone.

"Looks like you'll have your story done for tomorrow's edition, eh, Mary?"

Now the busy woman did stop and look up, her hands settling delicately over the half-done type set. "Yes. It will be largely descriptive though, unless you have any information to add?" she asked, hopefully.

The upset woman from earlier was evident only in the slight flush to her cheeks and ear tips. Josiah smiled gently. "Not my place, besides, didn't see much of what led to today. You'll need to get that from Chris or Ezra."

"Um, yes." Distractedly, she brushed back a loose strand of blonde hair with the back on one hand. "They did seem to be in the thick of things. JD told me that they were going to be at the clinic, with Nathan." She made it into a question with her inflexion.

Sanchez nodded, eyes turning concerned as he momentarily let his thoughts wander to his injured friends. "Yes, Ezra was hurt before, Chris too."

"Nothing too serious?"

"No, they should be fine." Josiah came further in to the room. "And how about you?"

Mary's light green eyes grew round as she looked up at the quiet preacher. "Me? Why, I am fine, Mr. Sanchez."

"Saw you earlier, seemed a bit upset?"

"Oh," Mary looked down at her hands. "I -- I tried to speak with Chris, with Mr. Larabee, at the bathhouse. But he was occupied."

"With Ezra." Josiah's voice sounded confident which drew Mary's eyes back up to him, startled.

"You know about them?" she breathed out.

"Know they're good friends. Mine." Sanchez was too wise to speak more clearly. Not about this, ever.

Mary nodded. She understood. She sighed and leaned back against the press behind her. "I thought -- that is, I --" she shook her head in frustration. "Mr. Larabee is quite an impressive man, a leader and a brave man. He's so good with Billy. I had hopes that there might be something there." She hesitated again, shaking her head slowly. "For us."

Josiah nodded without comment, his silence encouraging.

Mary had pinked some now as she essentially confessed, "The other night, he and I, we, we had a private moment." She looked up to see how this would be accepted. Josiah stared back at her with calm placidity. She swallowed hard and looked away nervously. "He called out Mr. Standish's name."

"Ah." Sanchez saw light now. This explained a lot. Not the best way to end a relationship, however tentative. Hard on her. Wonder if Chris even knew? He waited.

With a small shrug, Mary continued, "I went to see him the next day, Mr. Standish, that is. I--" she met Josiah's gaze with pride and courage, "I threatened him." She dropped her gaze again. "I had no right, I realize that now."

"Mary, they are good men."

"I know that, Josiah, it's just that I thought--" she closed her eyes and drew in a lungful of air, replete with the sour smell of the printer's ink and machine's oil. "They have something special, don't they?" the last was said with quiet envy.

Sanchez relaxed and smiled, nodding as he leaned back against the doorjamb more fully. "That they do. Not everyone ever finds that in life."

"No, not everyone. I was very lucky, I had Stephen." She smiled up at Josiah now, calmer and more centered, as if just talking had somehow made things more acceptable. A great pressure seemed gone from her heart, she felt nearly light headed with relief. Her smile grew. "I loved him very, very much," she added softly.

"Then, Mary, you and he were blessed. And, your love brought Billy into this world."

"Yes." Mary's smile of maternal pride and love glowed on her face. Then a small cloud passed across it. "Do you think that Chris, that Mr. Larabee, will still find time for Billy?"

Josiah's full belly laugh could be heard clear out in the street. "Without a doubt, Mary, without a doubt."

Vin watched proprietarily as Chris and Ezra climbed down the stairs of the clinic, Chris in the lead, his long, slim, dark form a sharp accent to Ezra's shorter, compact form. At the foot of the stairs, Larabee waited, then put a hand on Ezra's nearest shoulder in a gesture which could be construed as simple friendship, but which Vin recognized as much more possessive. He smirked at the lovers. Figure whatever they did in the tub ain't nothing compared to what's gonna happen up in Ez's room. He tipped his chair back and nudged Buck who grinned knowingly back at him, then winked lasciviously. "Gonna be hot, today," the ladies man said innocently.

Vin nearly choked on his laughter, the front legs of his chair coming down with a sharp bang. Across the street, Chris looked up from where he'd been murmuring to Ezra and spotted their two seated friends by the saloon door. A secretive smile flitted across his face before he assumed his normal unreadable expression. Ezra, who'd been focused on Larabee, followed his gaze and smiled blandly at Buck and Vin.

"Make a nice pair, huh?" Buck said under his breath to Vin.

Just as the tracker was about to respond, another voice cut in sharply from in front of the hotel's restaurant entrance. "Mr. Standish?" Judge Travis did not look happy. "If I could have few minutes of your time, please?" And, when Larabee turned with Ezra, as if to go with him, Travis added, "Alone, please."

Vin watched with Buck as Ezra turned toward Judge Travis's voice. Chris turned with him, and at the judge's question, it was clear that Chris intended to accompany their con man. Until Travis said, "Alone, please."

Larabee glared at the judge. "Ezra's hurt and needs to rest."

"I believe that Mr. Jackson would still have him in the clinic if it were serious." Travis' tone was one of dismissal.

"It's alright, Chris," Ezra said in a low voice, "I'll see you in the saloon in a few minutes."

The gunslinger was unhappy and it showed, but he backed off, releasing his hold on Ezra's shoulder and standing still as he watched the smaller man walk slowly over to where the judge waited on the hotel's boardwalk. Chris didn't move until Ezra followed the older man back into the shadowy interior of the hotel. Then he spun on his heels and stalked over to the saloon, eyes sparking dangerously.

Vin and Buck exchanged knowing looks. They didn't comment, but trailed after the angry spirit that marched into the saloon. Buck tossed his hat on to their regular table and Vin slumped into a chair next to Larabee's regular seat, facing the room, back to the wall. Chris went directly to the bar and retrieved a new bottle and several glasses, moving with single-minded determination back to the Seven's table. Thumping down the drink and glasses, he sunk into his chair, accepting a filled glass from Buck who'd taken over that duty.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, Pard." Buck poured a glass for the tracker, then one for himself as well. "What'd Ez do this time, anyway?"

"Nothing!" Chris threw back his head, swallowing the shot of whiskey in one go, then slammed the empty glass on to the table and shoved it towards Wilmington for a refill. "Not a damn thing!" Both men noticed the worry overlaying the anger in Larabee's voice.

Vin pushed his hat back and stared at the bright shape of sunlight from the fading day over the split saloon doors. "Heard tell that Mary was a bit unhappy with Ezra. JD told me she was saying some mean things about Ez." Blue eyes locked with hazel ones. "Not to just anyone, mind you, just ta some o'us," Vin clarified. "Still, if she said them things, likely said 'em to family, too."

They all knew that Travis was Mary's father-in-law. No one commented on that, but Chris bowed his head over his fists where they curled on the table. Then he expelled a sharp breath and muttered, "Shit. This is all my fault."

Buck clapped the man on the shoulder. "How you figure that, Pard? You ain't even been here."

Angry hazel eyes threw daggers as Larabee snarled. "Back off, Buck." He hung his head again and continued, "I -- I called out Ezra's name, when I was with Mary."

"Oh, man, that's got to hurt," Wilmington said sympathetically, looking over toward the open door of the Clarion. He shook his head, "Pard, you got a lot to learn about women."

Larabee shook his head in denial, "Nope, don't want to learn nothing more." Then a sly humorous twinkle lit his face, the anger and worry subsided for the moment. "Got Ezra now. He's all I need."

Vin cocked his head to the side and his smile was wide as he said, "Seems to me, cowboy, that Ezra has YOU." He saw again, in his mind's eye, the way Chris had clung to Ezra back in Gant's camp, at their shared tent.

Chris nodded, his eyes continuing to flick back to the front doors of the saloon, hoping to see Ezra come swinging through them any moment. "Yep, also." He started to climb to his feet but two firm hands gripped his arms, his two best friends pulling him back down.

"Easy, Pard, he don't come in through them doors in thirty minutes, we'll all go take a mosey over to the hotel together."

"Just set a spell, cowboy. Ezra is pretty good at takin' care of himself."

Chris nodded, allowing himself to be held in the seat, his face impassive, or as much so as he could manage. He twitched but didn't fight the men seated with him. They were right. He just felt as if he needed to be there, to protect his green-eyed little gambler from men like the powerful and blunt judge. Ezra might come across as tough, but Chris was finally beginning to figure him out, and Ezra, well, he wasn't all that tough under the skin. Nope, a sweet, tender heart, and feelings that bruised mighty easy. He accepted another glass of whiskey but his eyes drifted back until they were glued once again to the empty doorway. He'd just wait those thirty minutes. Then he intended to get up, get Ezra out of there, and find someplace quiet where they could finally have some uninterrupted time together.

Ezra mounted the steps slowly, stiffly. He nodded graciously to the man waiting with a face like a thundercloud for his arrival.

"Judge."

Without a word, Travis turned and led the way in to the hotel lobby. With a nod to the clerk, he said, "Jenkins, we're going to use the parlor, and we do not want to be disturbed."

The clerk's head bobbed in agreement, when Judge Travis spoke, folks paid attention. One of Ezra's eyebrows rose silently at the instructions, but he dutifully followed the lawmaker into the side room, waiting as Travis swung the door shut behind them.

Orrin was suddenly nervous. He liked to lay things out clearly, simply, bluntly. Tell folks what the law said, make a ruling, enforce the law. This, this pussyfooting around with people's private lives was distasteful to him, but his daughter-in-law had forced his hand. He cleared his throat and gestured to one of the two wingback chairs grouped in front of the open hearth of a small-screened fireplace. "Sit down, Mr. Standish."

Ezra moved without his normal grace, his steps slightly stilted. Travis saw the pain, quickly hidden, on the small man's face. He hesitated. Maybe now was not the best time to do this. Hell, there was no best time. Just get it over with.

By now, Standish was perched on the edge of the indicated chair, his unusual wardrobe making him look out of place in the ornate little room. Without his usual fancy dress, the man looked even smaller, younger, that is, until one looked at his face, in those eyes. Right now, they were looking very old, tired, and sad.

"Sir, I am at your disposal."

Orrin looked sharply, trying to see if the words were meant sarcastically, but in fact, Standish seemed quite genuine. He nodded and planted himself squarely in the other seat. "Some things have been brought to my attention." He harrumphed noisily, clearly uncomfortable. "Mrs. Travis, my daughter-in-law, was quite upset."

Ezra sat back, relaxing into the armchair. So. This was about that. So much had happened since then, it was hard to believe that this held any importance any more. Of course, Mary HAD appeared at the bathhouse a short time ago, still wrathful. But he'd really thought that Chris had set her straight. He studied the older man in front of him and waited.

"She came to me. Made some rather wild accusations. About you, and your personal habits, preferences."

"My personal--?"

Travis' face became flushed, turning nearly beet red. He folded his hands on his lap and looked down, suddenly feeling like a young law student at the bar for the first time. With irritation, he shrugged off the feeling. Damn it, this man is just a gambler, con man, and recently pardoned bail skipper. He looked back up, and realized just how unworthy those thoughts were. No, he's a member of the law of this town, by my order, and he's done well with that. Orrin sighed and hunched forward over his hands, maintaining his eye contact with the dignified younger man seated across from him.

"Mr. Standish, she accused you of some rather," Travis cleared his throat, "some unusual, that is to say, some behaviors that are considered unacceptable by society and frowned upon by the law." When Standish just looked at him, Travis was forced to continue. "She said you were attempting to seduce Chris Larabee."

Ezra blushed. He couldn't help it. After all that had happened. This. And, Chris was waiting for him. It began to look like Chris would be waiting in vain. I shall have to leave, quietly, now. Depart before any of this tarnishes Chris. Oh, my beautiful love, my angel, I shall miss you with all of my heart. Ezra closed his eyes to prevent the watching judge from seeing the soul-deep hurt that the thought of departing this town, leaving his lover behind, meant to him. With heart breaking, realizing that the pain was too great to hide, he opened his eyes again to face this man who held their lives in his hands.

"No, that I never did."

"But you and Mr. Larabee?"

"I can speak only for myself, Judge. Mrs. Travis is correct in this, I am deeply in love with the man. I had not acted upon this, despite Mrs. Travis' assumptions and accusations." Ezra spoke quietly, firmly, honestly. No deceptions, not now, not here.

Orrin sat back. Somehow he'd expected the man to try to squirm out of this, not lay bare his heart. He was experienced enough in the ways of men to know that this man spoke the truth. Not that it really changed anything.

Ezra didn't wait for the judge to comment. "Mr. Larabee is not to be involved in this, sir. It is only I that you need deal with. He is the leader of your police force in this town and essential to its continued survival. He keeps the men together, functioning, and safe. I can be out of town before sunset." Ezra did not drop his gaze, even as he felt his insides fold up and crumble, leaving only dust in the hollow space where once he'd had a heart.

"Perhaps that would be for the best," the judge said pensively, his eyes no longer meeting those of Standish.

Josiah drifted across the street, a contemplative smile on his face as he reached the opposite boardwalk and mounted the steps to the saloon. Peering into the gloomy interior, he saw three of his friends sharing a bottle of whiskey at their regular table. Pushing aside the swinging doors, he ambled in and joined them, dragging a chair out slowly.

"Bit early, isn't it?" he remarked, while helping himself to one of the spare glasses on the table and filling it from the communal bottle.

Vin smiled at him and stretched mightily, saying nothing. Chris, sitting there tense as a bowstring, simply downed his current glass of whiskey and poured another. Buck, however, knew the mission that had recently occupied his friend the preacher. He leaned forward in his seat, to cage his glass with long fingers as he rested his elbows on the table. "How'd it go?"

Both Vin and Chris squinted first at Wilmington, then at Sanchez, clearly puzzled by the non-sequitur. Josiah, however, let his smile grow as he took a sip of the raw liquor. "Better than you might have expected, brother Buck." He rested comfortably back in his seat and lifted his glass to study the amber lights that gleamed through it from late afternoon sundogs.

With a quick look at Chris Larabee, who was now ignoring the incomprehensible conversational gambits, Buck asked, "What'd she say?"

Josiah, too, looked over toward Larabee before answering. By now, Vin was sitting up alertly. This had something to do with Chris. Josiah thought for a moment before answering. "I think she just needed to talk it out. Seems our brother Chris, here," at this Larabee sent a questioning, irritated glare from under beetling brows, but Sanchez just smiled all the more benignly and continued, "our brother here spoke out of turn in a very inappropriate moment with Mrs. Travis. She took offense at the time but now sees that it was her own aspirations that were the problem, not brother Chris -- or brother Ezra."

Larabee sat up straight now too, and angrily crashed a fist on the table top, rattling the glassware. "What the hell are you going on about, Sanchez?"

Buck, knowing both his oldest friend and the preacher, chose to intervene. "Pard, just take it easy now. Josiah went to talk with Mary. We both saw her take off from the bathhouse like some polecat was on her tail." He clamped a hand on Larabee's shoulder and ignored the other man's abrupt shrugging attempt to remove it unsuccessfully. He squeezed hard and waited. Angry hazel eyes rose and met his. He finished then. "'Siah decided to try to get Mary to talk about things, make her see that she wasn't going to have no luck with you."

Sanchez nodded and leaned forward heavily. "She talked for a spell, Chris," his usual pedantic embellishments now missing as he decided to cut across the other man's anger quickly. This was no time for teasing or vagueness, he'd take his cue from Buck. "She realized that you and Ezra have something special and that while she might have liked thinking of a union with you, she had no special affections to be rebuffed. More a case of common sense that went astray." He tapped a finger on the table, then looked up again into Chris' now quiet eyes. "Said she was envious of you two, glad she'd had something like that with her Stephen. Only hoped you'd still find time to be with Billy." Josiah folded his arms and nodded, more to himself than the others, "I told her I was sure of it."

Chris' shoulders slumped beneath Buck's hand. He sighed deeply. "She said some pretty mean things to Ezra."

"She's sorry now, likely try to make amends after awhile. Just got to deal with her pride, I think."

Vin had listened quietly to the exchanges. Now he spoke. "Still be careful round her for a spell, cowboy."

The others nodded slowly. No one spoke for a moment, then Larabee abruptly rocketed to his feet, throwing off Buck's hand. "Damn it! Ezra's still with the judge."

Everyone looked blankly at Larabee for a moment, then three sets of eyes lit with comprehension. "She was madder'n a wet hornet, before," Buck said slowly.

"Mighta said something more'n we thought, to Travis." Vin added grimly.

"Perhaps this meeting needs a few more folks in attendance?" Sanchez stood, setting his glass down deliberately. "Should I get Mary?"

"No." Larabee settled his hat on his head. "Only stir things up more." He kicked back his chair and headed for the street. The other three men behind him looked at each other and as one, followed their friend out of the saloon.

Chris reached the boardwalk first, shoving open the doors with anger. He stepped out into the afternoon sunshine and blinked to adjust his vision. There in front of him stood JD Dunne. "Hey, Chris, was just coming in to see if Ezra was with you."

The kid sheriff had been caught in mid-stride and now hurried forward again. He was at the bottom step to the saloon when Larabee spoke. "Ezra's not here." Then Chris brushed past the youth and into the street, heading across toward the hotel with a quick step.

JD slowed to a stop again and turned to watch. Looks worried. Wonder what's wrong. He was about to follow when he heard the others at his back. Turning again, he faced Vin, Buck, and Josiah all crowding out the doors of the saloon. "Hi guys! What's going on?"

Vin answered, "Just watching Chris' back, JD."

"And Ezra's," added Buck, with a quick pat on the kid's shoulder.

"I was lookin' for Ez. He gave me his sword. I cleaned it all up, thought he might be willing to tell me a bit about it and when he'd used it." JD's enthusiasm for his interest waned slowly as the others' comments began to register. "What's that about watchin' their backs?"

Josiah, last to leave the porch, moved past JD now, Buck and Vin already well into the street trailing Larabee. "Son, we fear that there may be some trouble with the Judge for Ezra and Chris. Just want to try to prevent it."

"Trouble?" JD swung into line with Josiah and looked up at the taller man as he matched steps. "What can I do?"

"Come along," Sanchez smiled. "Think they could use the support." He looked up and saw Nathan standing on the balcony porch of his clinic, watching the men cross the street. With a wave of his arm, Sanchez signaled the healer to come down and join them. Nathan didn't need a second invitation, it looked like trouble was brewing. Josiah would fill him in once he got to his friends.

JD saw Josiah signal Nathan and a bad feeling began to burn in his guts. "Josiah! What is happening?" the urgency of his question making the older man pause.

"We may be needed to support our friends in the face of adversity. We should know more soon, patience, my young brother."

Nathan, who'd hurried down the steps and jogged across the short distance of street, joined them at this point. "What's going on?"

"Not sure yet, but Chris and Ezra may need our help." Josiah eyed the dark healer, his own best friend, adding, "Ezra got called in for a meeting with the judge. Chris is headed there now."

JD's eyes opened wide. He'd seen enough at the camp, like the others, to know what wasn't being said. Shit. Ez and Chris were good for each other, the judge didn't need to be bothering them. He stiffened and hurried to keep up with the wide strides of the bigger men. Ahead of them, he saw Larabee reach the hotel porch and mount it in a few brief strides, straight-arm the door and disappear within.

Just behind him, Vin and Buck stepped up on to the porch, but slowed slightly, turning to look at each other before continuing, entering the building with shoulders brushing each other, side by side.

Now he was stepping up beside Josiah and Nate. Sanchez led them in, Nate and he following. It was dim inside and the clerk was standing wide-eyed and nervous, arm still raised from pointing out where Judge Travis was meeting in the parlor with the town gambler. Larabee was at the door already, the tall shape of Wilmington and the slouched shape of Tanner close behind him. JD blinked at the tension in the air and bit his lower lip as he quietly walked up behind the other men, together with the preacher and the healer.

Chris silently swung open the door to hear Ezra's voice, sounding sad and lost, yet determined.

"Mr. Larabee is not to be involved in this, sir. It is only I that you need deal with. He is the leader of your police force in this town and essential to its continued survival. He keeps the men together, functioning, and safe. I can be out of town before sunset."

"Perhaps that would be for the best," Chris heard the judge respond, "but not for you or your friends. And, I think that given the facts and the emotions," this last said in a distasteful tone, "I think I shall simply have to deal with my daughter-in-law in private. You stay."

"Good." Chris Larabee walked in, all his earlier anger and worry dissipating as he looked on the man who'd stolen his heart. He didn't bother to acknowledge Travis, simply dropped to one knee next to his little gambler. "Ezra. You hear that? You stay." He picked up the man's fine boned, compact hands and held them tightly to his own chest. "You stay here, with me. Don't ever think you can run out on me, I won't let it happen. I'd follow you to the ends of the earth and beyond."

"Chris." Ezra breathed out softly, returning the pressure of his hands to Chris'. "I simply thought--"

"Thinking can get you in more trouble, Ezra," Chris shook his head in mock sorrow, adding firmly, "on this, you just trust me. You stay. We are together now. If someone doesn't like it, they answer to me. We'll move on together, if need be."

"There will be no need," Orrin Travis said gently from his chair, watching the sight of new love and feeling his own heart quicken in memory of his early days with his own sweet wife. At least he'd had the luxury of being able to show that love openly. Chris Larabee and Ezra Standish were two very brave men to be so open, even here, in this very private place. He glanced up, to see the rest of the Seven lawmen crowding in the doorway of the parlor. "This town still needs all seven of its peacekeepers."

Everyone seemed to relax as the rest of the men came fully into the room and took up stations at the edges of the parlor. Vin quietly re-closed the door. Chris hadn't broken eye contact with Ezra yet, willing him to see the commitment and love for him in his eyes.

Ezra was stunned beyond thought. He'd been in a well of despair just moments ago, preparing himself to give up the only true happiness he'd ever found, giving up his home, so that his lover could survive. And now, here was the man himself, assuring him that they would not be parted, and that Ezra wouldn't have to leave.

"I don't need to leave?" Everyone heard the hesitation and hope in the words.

Chris simply groaned and tugged the captured hands closer, ignoring his audience as he dragged Ezra off his chair and into his arms there on the floor. Hugging the smaller man carefully out of respect for bruised ribs, he spoke into one ear. "Never! Not without me, Green Eyes."

Travis cleared his throat noisily and looked around the room, away from the two men in a clinch at his feet, to look at the other five men ranged around him. Each man was watching the two men, each of the five had a soft look to his face. A bit of a smile, a kind of glow.

Ezra nodded against Chris' chin, then pushed back and smiled at the man. "Alright." His smile dimpled and grew, the very air in the room lightening with the happiness shining from that pair of bright green eyes. Eyes that now flitted around the room, widening in shock to see all their friends smiling down at them, and the judge -- oh, dear lord, they were still in the parlor with the very dignified, gruff Judge Orrin Travis. "Chris," Ezra hissed in panic, "the judge!"

Larabee gathered Ezra back up against his chest and twisted his neck slightly so that he could face Travis without releasing Ezra. "Judge."

"Chris."

"You got a problem with us?"

"No, no, I don't." Orrin leaned back in his wing chair and crossed his ankles, eyes twinkling. "My daughter-in-law seems to, but I shall see that it goes no further." He cleared his throat again. "Providing, gentlemen, that you are a bit more discreet in public than you are at this moment?"

"Think we can manage that," Chris answered, then turned to look back down at the man in his arms, "what do you say, Ez?"

"Yes."

Larabee grinned, his relief and joy easy to read, as he looked back over his shoulder again at the judge. "There are times when he don't say much."

Travis raised both eyebrows but didn't speak. There was another moment of silence, then the room broke into guffaws as the rest of the Seven began to laugh. Josiah threw an arm over Nathan's shoulders and whacked JD on the back, sending the young man forward in a stagger. Vin and Buck both grinned and slumped against the walls where they'd been standing like sentries on either side of the door.

Josiah interrupted the moment to catch the judge's attention, "Your honor, I don't think Mary will be a problem, we had a little talk and I think she's resigned to how things are now."

Travis met the pale eyes of the preacher and nodded his thanks, seeing the compassion and understanding there. Then, clapping his hands together, he stood up. "Gentlemen, it seems my meeting is over. When you are ready to vacate the premises of this fine hotel, just let the clerk know. Any charges for the use of the room will be billed to me." He walked stiffly to the door, then turned to look about the room at the seven men. The dark clad gunslinger was helping the smaller gambler up off the floor, nothing particularly noticeable in their actions, no hint at the earlier intimacy. The preacher stood with an arm over the broad shoulder of the healer. The young sheriff was a small distance from them, smiling and rubbing at one shoulder in an absent-minded way. The tracker and the ladies man stood watching the judge closely from their posts by the door, clearly ready to defend the rest if need arose. With a nod at the men, a feeling of relief and satisfaction welling up inside, Orrin Travis opened the door to the parlor and walked through, out into the hotel's lobby. He didn't close the door behind him, leaving that decision to the group of men still within.

Chris looked around the hotel parlor at the ring of friends that surrounded Ezra and him. Good friends. He took up Ezra's nearest hand and wove his fingers through the little gambler's enjoying the warmth of their joined flesh. Ezra looked sideways at him with a light dancing in his eyes. Chris spoke softly. "Thanks, boys."

Buck nodded. "Pard, we're just plain happy for you. Take care of each other now, you hear?"

JD was grinning, ear to ear, as he bobbed his head in agreement. "Yeah. You two are so lucky. It isn't everyone who finds someone special to love."

"Brother, bless you, that is a graceful way of saying it, true and from the heart." Josiah chuckled, then added directly to Larabee and Standish, "We will stand by you."

"Always." Vin gave a single nod to his best friend and to their gambler, who had also wormed his way into this solid fellowship of friends.

Nathan, who'd stood back watching and listening, stepped out now from beneath Josiah's exuberant arm and closer to the couple. "Ezra? You still okay? You want to come back to the clinic?"

Shocked green eyes flashed at the healer. "No, thank you, Mr. Jackson, I'm fine."

Jackson shook his head and looked over at Larabee. "Figure he's your responsibility now, Chris. You watch over him, he don't ever know when to say he's hurtin' or sick. And tonight, he's likely to be hurtin' pretty bad, once he tries to settle down."

Larabee shot a look of concern down at the top of his short friend's head, then over to the healer. "I'll watch him, Nate, thanks."

"If you two are done discussin' me?" Ezra grimaced up at the two taller men, ignoring the chuckles from the rest.

Chris leaned down and pecked Ezra on the cheek, lightly so as not to aggravate the vivid bruising. "Yep. All done."

"Then, perhaps we can finally finish our journey to mah room?" This was said on a sigh.

"Think we might." Chris looked up at the rest of his men. "You boys want to act as escort?"

"Kinda like a weddin' party, huh, Pard?" Buck's teasing was only half in jest, knowing eyes meeting Larabee's and conveying approval and support.

"Yeah," Chris raised his and Ezra's still joined hands to kiss Ezra's ring finger.

Vin swung the door all the way open from where the judge had left it partially open. He stepped out into the lobby, one hand resting casually on his still holstered mare's leg.

Buck went next, thumbs hooked into his gun belt, eyes evaluating the area.

JD slipped out next, with a simple nod and tip of his bowler to the new lovers, his friends. He stepped to the side of Buck once past the door, tucking his simple tweed jacket back from his holstered twin Colts.

Nathan and Josiah stood back, letting Larabee lead Ezra out next. Chris released Ezra's hand and grasped his elbow lightly in a publicly acceptable hold of support for an injured friend. Standish wished for his black gambler's hat to pull low over his eyes and shade his battered face from view as they emerged from the temporarily private room. Instead, he simply held his head erect, a bland look once more, poker face in place. Nathan Jackson and Josiah Sanchez, two tall, big men, followed them out the door.

Once in the street, the men walked casually and openly back over toward the saloon.

Buck caught sight of Judge Travis near the door to the Clarion. Travis had stopped and was watching his peace officers. When he caught Buck's eye, the judge gave the team's two-fingered salute. Buck nodded back, face smooth and serious, eyes sharp as he continued to scan the streets. There really wasn't any need to worry, the bad folks had been stopped and Mary Travis had been deflected already. But still, he knew that Chris and Ezra had been frustrated for several days now and he wanted his two good friends to finally have some time together. Some private, special time alone.

Vin glided across the street, climbing up to the porch, only to turn and face the street, providing cover for any interference. Josiah suddenly broke free from the small silent convoy, striding over to intercept Gloria Potter who seemed ready to call out to Standish from her perch at the front of her store. He caught her at the elbow and turned her around, bending his head to ask something in a low voice. From the way she answered and led him deeper into her store, the others figured he'd derailed that delay.

Nathan was next, stepping over to stop Billy's forward rush toward Chris. He spoke with a broad gesture toward JD. Billy's face lit up and he ran now to the young sheriff who bent to hear the little boy's request. JD grinned and puffed out his chest, putting a hand importantly on Billy's shoulder as he led the boy off toward the jail. Chris only heard a word or two of that conversation, something about a sword. He sighed and pushed Ezra forward gently, he could guess what it was about and he didn't want Ezra to know, it would only distress him.

Ezra noticed all the interactions of his friends to protect Chris and him, and he was wordlessly grateful. He wanted to do something for these kind and caring men and he would, perhaps at the next poker game. But first he really, really wanted to be with, and love, his angel. Just for one whole, entire, uninterrupted night. He began to quicken his pace, finding Chris keeping with him without difficulty or objection.

The remaining men filtered in through the saloon's doors, Vin and Buck peeling off toward the bar, Nathan heading slowly toward the Seven's table, where their abandoned bottle and an array of glasses still stood. Chris and Ezra continued through the room and directly up the stairs, Ezra leading now. His back was straight and head high. His simple work shirt and military trousers a far cry from his usual attire, but carried with such dignity of posture that they took on a look of elegance on the small figure. Chris was not blind to Ezra's magic, but was distracted as he found himself captivated by this new view of his lover's rump, the old worn trouser material clinging in a very complimentary fashion to the sweetest ass he'd ever laid eyes on as they mounted the stairs with Ezra in front of and just slightly above Chris. Fascinated, he didn't even notice as Vin and Buck joined Nathan at the table, carrying a pitcher of beer and some taller glasses.

Buck nudged Tanner and tossed his chin toward the quickly vanishing pair. "Old Chris has it bad, ain't seen him like this since his courtin' days with Sarah."

Vin chose to lift his newly poured beer and hide his mouth in the foam, so his smile wouldn't provoke more lively comments from their lothario. Nathan's own smile grew wider and he shook his head.

"They best be careful, tonight at any rate, Ezra's in no shape to do anything too active."

"Pard, love don't have a hell of a lot to do with common sense."

Vin finally lowered his beer to the table and blinked. "Jest better be around come mornin' Nate. In case you're needed." Then he flashed a grin at the other two men who'd been stunned to silence by his remark. Both Nathan and Buck instantly burst into laughter. They were still chuckling when Josiah arrived shortly thereafter. JD showed up as the final chuckles were subsiding. The five would stay up late that night, just to be around 'in case they were needed.'"

Ezra opened the door easily with a bit of wire he retrieved from above the lintel of the door. Larabee, whose hands were now pressed around those sweet cheeks that he'd admired all the way up the staircase, practically threw the smaller man into the room, closing the door firmly behind them. "How you going to lock this door now, Ezra?"

Standish came back to stand very closely beside Larabee as he showed him the bolt that had been installed just below the normal door lock. Sliding the bolt home, Ezra turned to face his lover.

"We're here. Alone."

"Yep." Chris lifted his arms and wrapped them around Ezra's shoulders, enfolding him in his warmth. He rocked them together as they stood there. "Love you, Ezra."

"Oh, Chris, I love you so very much!" Ezra's reserve seemed to have deserted him and he found he didn't mind at all. He only wished he was in better shape for their first free night together. His broken wrist was definitely going to be a challenge, the ribs as well, though they could work around the broken nose. He smiled up into warm hazel eyes. "Let's get naked. I want to touch you, feel you, all of you."

Chris nearly burst out laughing, nodding unable to speak as Ezra tried with quiet frustration to undo buttons with one hand. "Here," he finally chuckled with amusement, "let me do that for us. Least wise, 'til you're healed."

Ezra dropped his good hand and stood still as Chris first removed Ezra's shirt, then his own duster and shirt. Then he paused to let his fingers roam over the exposed flesh. The bandages were awkward, but the gunslinger still found flesh to touch, stroke, pet. His little gambler began to squirm, trying to get closer. Holding him at arms' length, he smiled. "Only be another few moments, Ez." Then he quickly stripped off boots, socks, pants and underclothes from first Ezra, then himself.

"Ezra." Chris stroked the sleek form, trailing one finger down Ezra's delicious spine, then across the rounded buttocks below, enjoying the tingle that came to his finger with the touch. "So soft."

Happy green eyes stared up at Chris. Ezra shivered. "Not everywhere," he said, thrusting a very hard member against Larabee's thigh.

Chris looked down and smiled, taking the hard, leaking shaft in one large hand and tugging gently. "Um, how 'bout we take this to bed?"

"My thoughts precisely, Angel."

"Not going to always be an angel in the bed, Green Eyes." Chris looked sternly at his teasing lover, adding a cautionary, "But for now, we best wait a bit." He gently released Ezra's cock.

Ezra flashed him a deliberately flirting look of denial.

By now they'd reached the feather bed and sat together on the edge. Chris eyed all the bandages wrapped around the southerner's torso and wrist. He reached up to cup the badly mauled face and delicately licked the bruised lips. "So sweet."

Ezra tried to climb closer but grunted in pain as his injuries set up a chorus of protests. "See that? You remember what Nathan said? You just relax, lie back down, Ez." Chris coaxed as he stood again and helped his lover into the big bed.

"I'm sorry, Chris," Ezra muttered disheartenedly. He shut his eyes, his erection fading as he hunched back on the coverlet.

"Ezra!" At Chris' sharply spoken tone the green eyes popped back open. Chris lay down next to his little gambler and slid an arm beneath the man's head and neck to cradle him closer, the gentleness belying his belligerent tone of voice. "Look at me, Ez." Chris stared deeply into those jade green depths. "I love you, this isn't some one night stand. You and I don't have to do anything but stay close tonight. The rest will happen soon enough once you're well again."

Ezra searched the hazel eyes above him, the tough, no-nonsense face. This man loves me. I surely do love him. It is more than enough. He dimpled, his eyes losing their look of uncertainty and worry. "Thank you, Angel." Ezra dropped his head back on to Chris' arm and snuggled as close as his protesting body would allow.

Chris smiled back and lowered his head to rest it beside Ezra's. "You're welcome, Green Eyes." He placed a tender kiss on contented, curling lips. His little gambler was finally where he belonged, safe in Chris' arms. "Sleep for now, my sweet Ezra, and we have all the time in the world, all our tomorrows."

fini