Josiah led the way back along the sideshow, having to fight against the stream of gawking folk that lined the row. He eyed each exhibitor carefully but was nearly to the other end with Nathan beside him on the outside, and Buck and JD tramping along behind him when he was brushed hard, nearly dropped to the dirt. As he heard the gasps of the others and the sound of - 'cah-chink' - spurs hitting the ground, he spun around and found himself with an armful of silks and satins, a swirl of brownish hair and then he was looking down into great big blue eyes.

"Vin?"

Tanner swallowed against the dizziness that nearly overwhelmed him, but still managed to husk out, "Watch yore back, Josiah!"

To a chorus of disbelieving, "Vin!" "Vin!" "Vin!" from Nate, JD, and Buck, Josiah held on to what could only be Vin Tanner with one arm while craning his neck around to see back further down the sideshow. A group of lethal looking men were moving purposefully toward them, guns being drawn as he watched. Damn.

Josiah pulled Vin close and dropped to the ground, his friends spinning and dropping as well, quickly taking in the danger. Sanchez landed on top of Tanner's silk bustled form, pulling his big pistol and turning to face the danger heading their way. He heard Vin's grunt of pain but ignored it for the moment.

Lonnie scowled ahead. The second group, the seedy trail hands he'd spotted, were making a steady trek toward the sideshow alley and he could see they weren't looking at the side show freaks. There beyond them he could make out the tall forms of Buck, his Negro friend, and the other tall lawman. Figure young JD is with them, Lonnie thought as he pressed forward faster, his deputies swirling around behind him and closing in fast as well.

Then, to make matters more confusing, the bearded lady stepped out to the edge of her little stage and dropped down practically on top of the Four Corners lawmen. Now what the hell is that all about? Lonnie broke into a trot.

" 'Siah, git yoreself off a me!" Vin's squashed voice grunted from below the big man. Sanchez ignored his friend, pointing his big handgun directly at the bounty hunters bearing down on them.

Buck had risen back to one knee and had his arm extended, his six-gun held steady at the grim faced men heading their way. He thumbed the cocking mechanism back and watched the men begin to slow in front of him. Nathan had pulled himself up to his feet against the sideshow stage and was holding one arm up, hand behind his back. Buck knew the man was holding the hilt of a big throwing knife, just waiting to see where to deliver it. To Buck's left, JD had rolled over sideways and was coming up with both Colts drawn, eyes steady on the men approaching. They could all hear muffled cursing coming from under Josiah.

And whoosh! A curtain of sateened calico shooshed in front of them. A very largely-endowed, matronly lady stood towering over the lawmen, ample arms akimbo, plump fists planted on generous hips. "You boys just stay right there!" she commanded before flouncing around to face the quintet of men slowing in front of her.

Buck raised both eyebrows and looked over at Nate who shrugged back at him. JD came fully upright, nearly squeaking as he tried to act officially, "Ma'am, you need to step aside before you get hurt."

"JD! Hesh!" Buck whispered, reaching out a long arm to jerk Dunne done by his jacket, effectively overturning the lad on his buttocks.

"Hey!" JD flashed an outraged look at Wilmington, but by then Buck and Nate were both standing and re-holstering their weapons, turning to offer hands to Josiah.

Josiah looked up at his friends and smiled weakly, shifting uncomfortably on top of his charge. He shoved his pistol into his belt, not even bothering with his holster, anxious to get up and off of Vin. He spared a look past the petticoats and skirts of the substantial woman blocking the bounty hunters. She seemed to have them well in hand. His smile became a wide toothy grin and he accepted Buck's and Nathan's hands, allowing himself to be hoisted in a quick tug to his feet. Letting go of the helping hands, he turned around and looked down.

John Acorn slowed. His men half-stumbled to halting stops behind him as out of nowhere, a large woman charged into their path and turned to confront them. He put his gun away, seeing his men do the same. He was still ready to walk right over this woman to get to his bounty, if the man was there. Trouble was, he still hadn't caught sight of Tanner, only those four men that the carnie had spoken to back in the big tent. And, he only had a suspicion that they would lead him to his prey.

Maryjane was breathing hard. One of the roustabouts had run to get her when he saw all the armed men heading to the sideshow, that never was a good thing. She had rushed over from her spot in the fortune telling tent and saw the confrontation forming, then Ezra's cousin jumping down into the middle of it. She quickly decided the closer four men were friends when she saw the way they were reacting protectively to Ven. Like a mother hen for her chicks, she threw herself between them and the other group who were drawing their weapons and nearly running up the sideshow path. Now that she was between them, she stood tall and waited.

The men came to a stop facing her at a distance of less than ten feet and she was prepared to deck the nearest one when she saw the town marshal and his deputies come half-running up the path behind these men. Smiling widely she folded her arms over her bosom and stared silently.

"You fellows want something?" Lonnie stopped just behind the now bedraggled looking crew.

As one, the men turned to face this newest threat. Acorn pursed his lips in frustration. Damn. He'd spotted the local law back in the saloon but hadn't reported to him, figuring to wait until he had the bounty to claim. Now he might not be believed.

Buck decided it might be a good time to intervene. "Ah, Marshal? My friend Nate here can explain everything." With a wide swing of one long arm, he encircled Jackson's shoulders and practically shoved the healer towards the crowd now gathering, with a smiling nod to the lady who'd stopped the fledgling gunfight. "JD, you best help Nate." Buck gave a simple nod of his head toward the local marshal. JD quickly hopped forward, grabbing Nathan's arm to urge him along, together, their bodies hid Josiah and his now standing - and swaying - companion.

Buck turned away from the groups of men and swept his hat off to bow gracefully to the female form. "Ma'am, after you." He gestured further on down the sideshow as Josiah offered his arm and their charge hooked a hand through it and clung tightly as they started away from the rest of the men. Behind them, the locals and the bounty hunters were silently staring at each other, and JD and Nathan were wading in.

Ezra didn't waste any time. He brought both arms down together between their bodies as he pressed close to Chris. "Trust me."

Chris rubbed his cheek against Ezra's forehead as Ezra dipped his face downward. Huskily, Chris answered, "Always."

Then Chris looked up, over Ezra's shoulder and tightened his jaw. Bockman was standing mere yards away, staring not at them but at O'Hara. Oh, Jesus. Chris swallowed. "Ezra?" But before he could say more, he felt a body tug and realized that somehow Ezra had a knife and had just cut him free of the center post. And then Ezra was turning, one shoulder shifting and sliding against Chris, both arms moving at incredible speed and a jerk pulled at the rope on Chris' right wrist, pulling it taut then free. He felt a knife hilt being tucked into his hand, his fingers being coaxed to curl around it. Through pins and needles of returning feeling, he clumsily dropped his arm even as Ezra twisted around to face O'Hara, one arm now raised.

Chris flung his right hand, complete with dagger, across his body to attack the rope at his left wrist. He sawed frantically, clumsily at the rope.

Bockman stood tall and shifted the aim of his gun, mouth drawing down into a bleak frown.

Quinn screamed, "NOOOOO!" and began to fire his guns.

Buck, Josiah, and Vin spun around, eyes wide at the sounds of multiple gunshots in the distance. Between them and the sounds were the two groups of men who all turned as well. Vin cried out, "Ez!" and only the strong arms of his friends stopped his attempt to run back.

Ezra's mind was working very fast now, desperately evaluating their chances. He had to free Chris fast. Murmuring 'Trust me,' as he pressed close to Larabee to hide his movements, he plucked one dagger from a cuff and slid it beneath the rope holding Chris to a fence post.

In his ear, he heard Chris' answer, 'Always.'

Ezra flushed with guilt, knowing he hadn't treated Chris with the same faith such a short time ago. Jumping to conclusions in the face of sleepy mutterings and a cried name, Ezra had distrusted, Ezra had walked away.

He viciously dragged the sharp blade through the rope, angry at himself. The rope parted and he slid to the side, getting a slight burn from the rope as the strands popped free. He moved as quickly as he could, knowing their time was fleeting, and cut Chris' right wrist free, pressing the dagger into his lover's stiff hand. Then, he was out of time.

He heard Chris quietly call out his name in warning but he knew it was already too late. He'd fight for his lover and his friends though, to the death.

Ezra Standish swung around, keeping his body between Chris Larabee and the men threatening them and heard Quinn O'Hara scream, "Nooooo!"

He didn't feel any pain, just a kind of sharp dig to his arm that pushed him back, then a punch to his hip that shoved him further into Larabee who was turning behind him, struggling and cursing, probably trying to get free of the final binding on his other wrist. Ezra flipped the second dagger into his left hand and raised it to throw as the bullets kept coming, now missing them, thwacking into the livery's wooden back wall behind them. He was focused intently on Quinn but heard the boom of a second gun off to the side as he let fly with the lethal point, feeling intense satisfaction as it buried itself in Quinn O'Hara's center.

Buck shoved Vin off into Josiah's arms. Hurriedly, a grim look on his face, he ordered, "Hold on to him, he can barely stand up!" Then he took off running, pushing past the snarl of men that had threatened them just moments before. If Vin thought those gunshots meant that Ezra was in trouble, then Buck wasn't going to stand around and wait.

JD scooted into the opening created by Wilmington's passage and dove after him, pulling both Colts out again, ducking his head to bull past men that tried to crowd in around him.

Nathan Jackson swiveled his head around to spot Josiah gathering the bearded lady close to his chest, Sanchez's head was high and he was looking back at Nathan. Jackson gave a brisk nod and clamped one hand onto his head to hold his floppy brimmed hat in place, then pivoted about and took off running, his tall, broad-shouldered form re-opening the wedge of path that Buck and JD had just moved down.

Lonnie stepped back out of the way for the Four Corners lawmen, then shook his head in dismay. "Henry! Edgar! Escort these hooligans to the jail." He waved his pistol at the sullen gunmen. "The rest of you, let's go!" And he dashed after the Negro, who was the last of the lawmen to rush past him.

Vin struggled against Josiah's strength, "Josiah! I gotta help Ez!" he pleaded.

"Easy, Vin." Josiah found no room for humor, despite the fact that he held the 'bearded lady' of the carnival in his arms and discovered his friend, a rough and ready tracker within the fancy lady's dress, hair pinned up with feathers and ribbons. "The boys are on their way. They'll help Ezra. We need to get you hidden."

"Then you best bring Ven into my tent," interrupted the large lady who'd arrived a bit earlier to divert a gun battle. She pointed toward a single tall tent festooned with gauze flags and streamers, a simple banner saying, "fortunes told," at the entry. She smiled at Josiah. "Name's Maryjane. My husband Jack runs this carnival. Ezra's a good friend and we promised to help him protect his cousin Ven here." She nodded at Tanner.

Josiah dipped his knees briefly as Vin began to slip down through his arms, eyes half-closed. "He all right?" Sanchez's pale blue eyes asked the question too.

"Concussion." Maryjane reached in to pull the false beard hook tighter over one of Vin's ears.

"Huh." Sanchez huffed out, then simply swept the tracker's slender form up into his arms, skirts trailing the ground and worn leather trail boots complete with spurs poking out into the air as he settled the man against his chest. "Lead the way, Ma'am." He tipped his head and met Maryjane's eyes with calm reassurance.

Bockman's men stood flat-footed in surprise. The man that Clarence Bockman had declared was his stepson had just gone crazy in front of them, screaming and shooting off his gun wildly. Each of the four men drew but hesitated, uncertain of whom they should shoot. Bockman seemed to settle that for them by blasting the top of his 'son's' head off.

Their prisoner, Chris Larabee, had gotten free and was crouched on the ground over a stranger who'd been dressed like a carnie performer. The man lay bleeding from at least two wounds, and was being propped up by Larabee. The carnie wasn't even looking at Larabee, just staring at what was left of Bockman's son, a collapsed heap in the middle of the corral.

Chris lowered Ezra to the ground. He could see that Ezra had been hit at least twice, in his right arm and at his left side, near his hip. Neither wound was bleeding badly yet. Placing a hand flat on Ezra's chest, Chris leaned in close. "Wait for me," he whispered nearly against Ezra's parted lips. Then he surged away and forward, not even bothering to get to his feet. He needed a gun and the closest one was in the hands of a dead man.

Buck burst out on to the main street of Two Step, JD and Nate just behind him. All three came to panting halts, necks craning as they looked to see where the gunfire had been. Nothing stirred. Slowly, Buck lowered his gun but didn't holster it, JD and Nathan mirroring his actions. Then Wilmington began to pace down the street, eyes shifting from side to side as he watched for some sign of where the danger might be.

JD cocked both Colts and swallowed hard, keeping his guns half-lifted at his sides. His stride was quicker to keep up with the long legs of his companions.

Nathan took a long slow breath in and then released it, feeling his pulse rate slow.

At the sound of running feet, all three men spun about, raising their guns to point back at the way they'd just come. Marshal Lonnie Slater and several other men spilled out into the street, guns drawn, worried expressions on their faces. Lonnie and Buck lowered their guns again at the same time. JD and Nathan immediately swung back around to continue their watch on the empty street. Buck's gaze moved to the men with their marshal. The men shivered at the gunman's cool glance, then lowered their guns as well with sidelong looks at Lonnie.

Buck started to turn back when another exchange of shots rang out.

"That's coming from the back of the livery!" Lonnie shouted, to Buck as much as to his own men. Everyone took off running again, Slater leading his pack of deputies, Buck, JD and Nathan charging to the front of the other men.

Chris snatched the hot pistol from Quinn O'Hara's dead hand. With luck, there might be one or two bullets left. The man had sprayed fire at Ezra and him. He looked up into Clarence Bockman's frozen face. Bockman's gun was aimed right at Larabee.

"That was my last son." Bockman grimaced, then spat on the ground, right at O'Hara's body. "Stepson," he corrected. Dark eyes returned to Larabee's face, ignoring the gunslinger's quick movements as he reloaded his captured weapon with shells from Quinn's gun belt. "Didn't figure on this." He looked beyond Larabee to where the man Quinn had called 'Ezra' lay on the ground, shakily pushing himself up onto elbows.

Bockman pointed to Ezra with his big pistol, but addressed himself to Larabee, "He and you?"

Chris sat up straight now, gun resting on one thigh, leg folded under him, his other out straight in front of him. He didn't turn, knowing that Bockman meant Ezra. "Yeah. He's with me." His pale hazel eyes held a challenge.

"Then lose what you love." Clarence Bockman raised his gun higher to sight down it at Larabee's 'friend.'

"Like hell."

The sound of both guns firing was loud in the dry air of the empty corral.

Josiah followed Maryjane into the canopy tent of the fortuneteller. It was smaller inside than he expected, but there was room to lay Vin down on the canvas floor behind a small table shrouded in colorful scarves that drooped to the ground. A folding wood chair sat to one side of the table, a simple stool on the other.

While he knelt over Vin, the woman went to the entrance and stepped outside for a moment, returning with the banner advertising 'fortunes told' and drawing the wings of canvas shut, effectively closing out the world.

"Mr. Sanchez?"

"Josiah, ma'am, please."

"Josiah," Maryjane paused, then went on, "he just needs to rest. I can watch over him now if you want to go find your friends?" She sat in the large chair and tipped her head to study him, waiting for his answer.

Vin stared up at Josiah, his wide blue eyes still held uneven pupils and beneath the powder that had been patted onto his face, Josiah could now see the discoloration of bruising. He gently pulled the false beard away and smiled. "You'll be all right, Vin."

Josiah turned his attention to the carnival woman. "Maryjane, Vin here is very stubborn. Best if I stay here as well. Buck expects it." He laid a large hand on Vin Tanner's chest, pushing down the cotton-stuffed bosom as the tracker tried to rise. "Easy there." Josiah smiled, then returned his conversation to Maryjane, "Yep, he can be a stubborn cuss."

Maryjane nodded with a smile as well, but then raised her head and looked back over her shoulder, worry clouding her face. "I hope-"

The back of the tent canvas parted and a big man with an enormous walrus mustache poked his head in. "Where's Ezra?"

Maryjane shook her head, "I don't know, Jack." Then she noticed that Sanchez had pulled his gun out of his waistband and was staring up at her husband suspiciously. "Josiah, don't shoot! This is Jack, my husband. He's a good friend to Ezra and Ven."

Soho Jack nodded briefly to the stranger, taking in the sight of Ezra's cousin laid out on the ground and Maryjane calmly acting the diplomat. He met his wife's eyes. "No one's seen him since the tiger act. He's gone."

Harvey dropped his gun in the dirt as he watched his boss fall to the ground, shot by the gunslinger, Larabee. Beside him, Possum carefully returned his to his holster and stepped back, raising both hands. Together they retreated with backward steps into the shadows. Nearby their two proddy mates from the cattle drive were not nearly as smart.

Larabee had rolled to one side as he fired, making sure that Bockman's one shot went wide of Ezra by striking the man's gun hand first. His second shot took Bockman out with a bullet to the heart. This ends now.

Out of the corner of one eye, he caught sight of Bockman's men. Chandler and Fisk were preparing to fire. He came up on his knees, positioned between Ezra and this newest threat, gun raised. "Drop them." His command froze both men for a moment. Then they started shooting.

Chris returned fire, feeling the wind of one bullet as it whizzed by his cheek. His first shot took out Fisk with a bullet between the eyes. Even as he re-aimed for his second target, Chandler collapsed backwards and to the side, blood blossoming on his shirtfront. Chris swiveled on one knee, looking for another target. And pulled up his gun as Buck raced into the corral with JD, Nathan, and a band of strangers at his heels.

About time.

"Whoo-eee!" Buck strode on up to Chris, kicking the unresponsive bodies of first Bockman, then O'Hara on the way. Before reaching down to offer a grip to his oldest friend, Wilmington looked back to make sure that JD and Nathan were checking out the other dead or passive strangers. He noted the two standing in the shadows by the back wall of the livery and before he could call out, JD Dunne was in front of them, guns pointed, speaking quietly to the two men. Nate was kneeling between the two dead cowboys to the side of the trio of men. He looked up and shook his head at Buck. Goners. Good.

Buck Wilmington was feeling expansive and pleased. He'd put down one of those idiots himself, and all his friends were safe. He pulled Chris to his feet and into a bear hug. "Damn, was getting worried about you, Pard!"

But Chris had no time for the reunion, merely ducking his head at his old friend and then pulling free to drop down beside Ezra Standish who was still half-sitting - half-lying on the ground at the back end of the corral. Buck turned to watch as Chris gently lifted the gambler into the circle of his arms as he knelt there in the dirt. Bending his head down to put his face level with Ezra's, it was clear that he was saying something softly, but not loud enough for Buck to hear. Buck's sense of happiness grew, looked to be that Ez would be all right, too. Things were definitely looking up.

He put his hands on his hips and turned away, only to come face to face with Marshal Lonnie Slater who looked decidedly unhappy. Buck generously whacked the man on one shoulder. "No need for that frown, Marshal, the bad guys are dead and ready to bury." He dimpled, then nodded over to where JD Dunne was getting help from two deputies. "Looks like JD and your boys are handling what's left."

Lonnie rested his hand on his gun butt, shifting to stand with one hip shot out to the side. "Buck, it ain't that easy."

"Sure it is, Pard," Buck sidled up to the man and threw a loose arm over his shoulders, turning him away from where Nathan now knelt next to Chris and Ezra. Walking the marshal back towards the end of the livery, he added, "Easy as pie. Bury the dead. Jail the ones left alive. And let us hit the trail."

"What about that gunslinger and the carnie?" Lonnie tried to twist around to look over his shoulder but Wilmington was taller and stronger and despite his loose-limbed look, was firmly pressing Slater back and away from the cluster of men at the back of the corral.

"What? Who? Chris? Ez?" Buck chuckled and kept them moving. "Why they're part of our team, Lonnie. Chris Larabee's head honcho for us and old Ez is one of the boys, just strayed from the fold for a bit, that's all. They'll be riding out with us, not be bothering you anymore." He patted the shoulder he was still hugging and guided the rest of the volunteer deputies back toward the street.

"Well, what about those men we had to jail already?" Lonnie said doubtfully.

"Them? Waving firearms around in a crowd? Threatening law officers?" At Lonnie's look, Buck added, "You know they were aiming to hurt my boys and me?" he said seriously, voice lower and confidential, coaxing. "Disturbing the peace!" he added, louder, waving his free arm to emphasize his point. "I figure, Lonnie, that they need to cool their hot heads in your jail for - oh, say - another two days." He broke away from Slater now and stopped, watching as JD and the two deputies with him herded the remaining two cowmen out into the street and on towards the jail. "Same for those two, didn't look like they had any real part in the fight."

Lonnie Slater stood indecisively in the middle of his main street, eyeing his latest prisoners, thanks to the Four Corners lawmen and then looking back at Buck Wilmington. It would be easier to just keep the lawbreakers in jail for a few days, until the carnival left town. Then let them loose. No trial, no need to get a judge or jury, or try to figure out what else needed doing. They'd leave, the carnival would be gone, and quiet little Two Step would return to being a quiet little town. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Wilmington was smiling brightly at him but fingering his holstered gun with an easy competence that let Lonnie know that thinking the Wilmington way might be for the best. "Yeah, guess you're right." He slumped to a more relaxed stance.

" 'Course I am, Lonnie, old buddy." Buck chuckled. "Now I'm going to go back and check on the rest of my boys, Marshal, and we'll see you before we ride out." He touched the brim of his hat and then waved to Dunne who was stepping back out of the jail. "JD! Come on, let's go check on Chris and Ez."

JD clattered on down from the boardwalk, shoving both guns back into his holsters, then tugged at his hat and trotted over to join Buck as Wilmington swung away from Slater and headed back around the livery.

Vin sat on the stool and rested his head in his arms folded on the small round table. He felt a bit sick to his stomach but the world had stopped whirling on him and his head didn't hurt as much. Of course, after Maryjane loosened the damn stays in his corset, it did help with his breathing and he didn't feel so light headed. On the other hand, his back had felt right good all snugged up tight like that. Wonder if there was any way he could get her to part with it for good? Wouldn't show under his shirt and hide coat. He knew the boys would never let him live it down, but if Nate said it might help, they'd tease but let him be after a bit. Might be worth trying. He sighed and pushed himself off the table to sit fairly straight with hands braced on his knees.

"Feeling better, brother?" Josiah came over to stand beside him.

Vin looked up, too tired to be embarrassed at his outfit. "Yeah." He glanced over at Maryjane. "Ma'am? Think I could get out of this here dress now?"

The carnival lady sat forward in her chair. "Those men that the marshal arrested?"

"They were the reason you had me hid, ma'am." Vin nodded. He'd seen the bounty hunters bearing down on his friends. That was why he'd hopped off the sideshow stage and damn near fallen over the top of Josiah.

Sanchez nodded. That was unfinished business. But for the moment, Vin was safe. Josiah smacked Tanner on the back and laughed at his grunt of protest. "Maryjane, Vin's back with his friends. We'll think of something to do about those 'miscreants' as a friend of ours would say." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled as he looked Vin up and down, planning on remembering the sight of his young friend decked out in all this frippery finery. With a laugh, he said, "He'll be fine. And," with a sly look at Tanner, Josiah continued, "as fine as he looks in this frock, I think he might be more comfortable out of it."

"You said the plain truth, 'Siah," Vin agreed earnestly.

"If you're sure." Maryjane stood up and moved purposefully around the little table, reaching out to begin the removal of the dress from Ezra's cousin.

"Oh, yeah," Vin nodded decisively, "Real sure."

"Pretty as a picture!" Buck marveled playfully, describing Vin as the 'bearded lady' to Chris as he helped his friend hold Ezra still for Nathan's ministrations. Jackson had declared both wounds to be minor, the one on Ezra's arm was merely a bullet burn. The one at his hip, more serious since it clipped off a shallow groove of flesh, didn't penetrate within the body so was still a simple injury, just needing stitches.

"Never thought I'd see him in a dress." Chris muttered his comment, one hand busy soothing Ezra's back, then dropping lower, the other holding the man close to his chest as he watched Jackson sew up Ezra's sleek flesh at the hip. Have to see to it that that doesn't leave too much of a scar.

Ezra looked around at his joking friends, at Nathan so serious as he concentrated on his healing work, then up at JD who stood over them all protectively. He missed Josiah and Vin but the others had told him where they were and so he was content. He stole a glance up at Chris, knowing they still had to talk about Ezra's actions from days before. He gasped as Nate dug a bit deeper to force the needle into strong flesh and then pull the skin over to help close the wound at his side. Chris was instantly burying his face against Ezra's neck, planting tiny kisses there. And Ezra decided that Nathan could go on sewing as long as Chris kept on kissing.

He didn't see the look on Nathan's face. Or JD's frown.

Vin's delighted grin creased his cheeks and made him look both younger and older at the same time. Josiah grinned back, sharing the man's simple pleasure at being out of the clever costume and back in his own comfortable clothing. Sanchez let his wide smile slowly diminish as he thought of their still missing friends. He sent a silent prayer winging their way. Chris Larabee was essential to their group, their leader and their friend. Ezra was a bit more complicated in his fit into the group, but still a friend. Josiah dropped his gaze, thinking that he was once more ignoring the subtleties in favor of the obvious. Ezra was a good friend, just so puzzling at times, or so the former preacher mused as he slowly reeled in the yards of cloth that were the bearded lady's dress.

Maryjane watched the big man lose his jesting countenance and become quietly contemplative. She turned her attention to Ezra's cousin, Ven. He seemed better now, not just happier to be out of the dress, but steadier on his feet. The concussed look was fading. She helped him unpin his hair and pulled free the temporary extra locks of hair that they'd woven into it to give it more body and length before twisting it up into a hasty bun on his head. As Ven groaned in appreciation for the removal of the hated hair pieces and pins, scratching his scalp vigorously, Maryjane was reminded of her own feeling of freedom when she unpinned her hair. She smiled and waited. Her wait turned anxious as Ven slowly straightened, losing all semblance of his humor.

"Ven?"

Looking not at the carnival woman, but at his friend, Tanner dropped his hands and stood. "Josiah?"

"Yeah, Vin?" Sanchez, who'd been lost in thought, looked up curiously at the flat tone in Vin Tanner's voice.

"Those bounty hunters? You boys got them hauled off to the jail, right?" At Sanchez's nod, Vin continued, "But Chris sent me a telegraph to get me out of town. When I met up with him, he told me that they likely knew I was there, partnering him."

Josiah tipped his head to the side in thought. Then his eyes snapped back up to Tanner's. "Letting them go in a few days would just mean it takes them a few days to start after you again, back home." Josiah didn't like the way this was shaping up. Not at all.

Sinking back down onto the stool behind him, Vin frowned, then reluctantly said, "Guess I need to move on."

"No!" Josiah surged to his feet, dominating the small space of the fortune-teller's tent by his size and ferocity. "No, Vin," he repeated more quietly as he noticed Maryjane's wide eyes and startled look, "we'll figure out something. Ezra will!" Yes, Ezra would think of something, Josiah thought confidently. "Until then, we just need to keep you hidden." His eyes slid over toward the folded dress.

Vin sat up stiffly, "Nope. Ain't gonna do that again, Josiah." He glanced around at the inside of the canopied room. "I can stay out of sight 'til the carnival moves on, then just move with it." He flushed and looked over at Maryjane, "That is, ma'am, if you don't mind none?"

Maryjane sighed. Life with Ezra was always challenging. She nodded without need for thought. "Ezra's family, Ven. You're his cousin, so you're family too."

"Ah, about being a cousin, ma'am," Vin murmured, slowly folding his hands together on the scarf-covered table and rolling his eyes up to meet Maryjane's.

Nathan stiffened and blinked. Then he deliberately turned his eyes back to his work, crafting a tiny, neat row of stitches at Ezra's hip. Chris' gun hand had slipped to just below Nathan's work area, clasping Ezra's lower hip in a firm, cupping hold. A hold that ceased to be quite so innocent in light of the man's current behavior. Not that Nathan had never seen such a thing, such kissing, two men being intimate; just that Chris was his friend, the man he had respected, followed. Nathan was not comfortable with this and began to wonder what Ezra had done to Larabee. He also wondered if he should stop what Chris was doing. Nathan, still undecided and very uncomfortable, finished up, knotting off the fine thread and cutting it with a single swipe from one of his fine blades.

It was only a moment's work to place a clean cloth over the stitches, folded so that it protected the area. It wasn't an easy place to tie a bandage but Ezra's trousers should keep it there once they were pulled back up and fastened. Nathan sat back, ready to give directions. He was relieved to find that Standish and Chris were no longer in a clench, and both pairs of eyes were looking his way with anticipation and question. "Should be fine," Nate nodded. "Once we get you trousers tugged back up, Ezra, they'll keep the bandage in the right place." The others were nodding their understanding. "He'll be fine," Nate added directly to Chris, seeing the concentrated look directed at him now. Then Jackson moved back, walking on his knees until he was at a bit of a distance and could climb to his feet without further touching the two men. Think I need to talk with someone about this. Maybe Buck. He stole a look over at the other man, kneeling to the side, who was sitting back, having just released Standish's legs.

JD watched everything with reserve and a wash of trepidation. Oh, God, didn't Chris have the sense of a nanny goat? Anyone could come by and see him kissing Ezra all over like they were in some private place! I'd know better than that and I'm still just a greenhorn according to Buck. He edged back, worried.

Buck felt like knocking Larabee in the head. God damn it! He'd caught sight of the looks on JD's and Nate's faces. Not good. With a quick prod to Larabee's shoulder, and nod at Nathan's averted face, then at JD's retreat, he wordlessly warned off his old friend.

Chris ground his teeth, lifting his head as he met Buck's dark eyes and warning expression. Ezra grunted as Chris accidentally reacted by squeezing Ezra tighter before realizing what he'd done and easing off. Grow up! - he wanted to yell out at the other men. Hell, Vin knew and understood. Buck likely did now too, but also knew that Jackson and Dunne weren't showing much of that understanding yet. Hell. Chris gently cradled Ezra, pretending his own arms weren't a mass of flaring pain as waves of burning sensations, not unlike fire ant bites, surged up from his prickling hands to his forearms and beyond. He wanted to quietly reassure Ezra, but his throat was still sore and the confrontation with first Bockman and then his son hadn't helped it any. He swallowed painfully. It felt dry and tight, the muscles still aching and sore.

He looked down into soft green eyes that were staring back up at him. With a soft sigh, Chris Larabee gently pushed back the tousled chestnut curls that framed Ezra's dear face. His clumsy fingers lingering at the side of the man's face, Chris gave a half-smile. He dropped his head close to Ezra's and murmured, "Love you," in a hoarse voice so soft that only Ezra could hear it. He saw the warmth grow in his lover's eyes as Chris pulled back away slightly and turned to look over at Jackson.

"Thanks, Nate." Sitting up straighter, still supporting Ezra, he turned to face Buck who had climbed to his feet beside them. "Buck? Can you help Ez up here? We still got some business to finish up, I figure." He looked around the corral, noticing for the first time that only the dead and his own men were in sight.

Buck wiped at his face and took another look at JD who was standing back and looking relieved at the return to normal behavior by his hero, Chris Larabee. "Sure, Pard." He carefully reached down and hooked his hands under Ezra's arms, lifting without too much effort, getting the conman back up and on to his feet.

"Easy there, Ez." Buck caught at the now standing - and swaying - gambler, steadying him with hands on his shoulders. Ezra was having trouble balancing as he tugged his under things and trousers up over his exposed hip.

Nathan reacted to the return to normalcy also. He stepped back close and reached out to make sure that the folded cloth doing duty as a bandage stayed in place, his large dark hand in sharp contrast to the cardsharp's white hip, normally hidden skin. He was carefully helping Ezra button his fly, when he heard JD cry out.

"Chris!" JD flew across the few yards that he'd stepped back from his friends, arms extended to catch and hold Larabee.

Chris had felt his arms empty of Ezra as Buck helped his lover stand up and away from him. Chris knew the loss was only temporary, he'd see to that, but he couldn't believe how much it hurt to lose that sense of rightness he'd felt with Ezra in his arms. With a grimace, he pushed away from the ground on his still partially numbed arms and hands. As he came to his feet, he felt a wave of dizziness, he'd not stood free and on his own in a few days now. Blackness edged at his vision and he staggered. Faintly, he heard JD cry out his name.

Nathan leaped forward, following JD to the ground as the young shooter supported their collapsing friend. "Keep a tight hold, JD!" he instructed, already evaluating what he could see of Larabee's condition. He shook his head, angry at himself for failing to really look at Chris before as he took care of Ezra. Larabee was a sight. Pale, shaking, his clothing in near tatters. A rough bandage wound around his right shoulder. Under his chin, a dark bruise indicated a profound abrasion, worrying in the spread and depth of color as it darkened most of Larabee's neck. Thank God he was actually talking before, leastways I know he still can. What was left of a second make-shift bandage encircled his head. Tipping Chris forward slightly in Dunne's arms, Nathan could see where a gash was starting to heal without stitches near the base of Larabee's skull. "Ok, JD, you got him good?" Nathan asked as he settled himself on his knees and leaned back to finger his small bundle of supplies.

JD rolled his eyes but snugged his arms tighter beneath Larabee's, hands grasping each other at the front of Chris' torn shirt. "Yeah, I got him."

Before Jackson could make a start, Ezra was there, pushing him aside. The conman had evidently fought free of Buck's grasp and dropped to his knees, literally crawling over the stable yard's dirt corral to reach Larabee's side. "EZRA!" Nate bellowed, shoving aside the man to get back to his patient.

"Easy, Nate," Buck was there too now, crowding Jackson back as he sunk to his haunches next to Standish. Turning to the frantic southerner, he gathered the struggling man into his arms and drew him back, murmuring into Ezra's ears. Jackson shook his head at the interplay but turned back determinedly to Chris.

"Ez, let Nate help him first," Buck whispered, holding tight to the smaller man. "We'll get him all patched up, same as you, then let the two of you rest easy." With a smile, he pressed his lips even closer to the side of Standish's head and added, "Together."

Ezra deflated. Buck was right. Chris needed Nathan Jackson's healing presence much more than any useless comfort that he, Ezra, could provide. Useless. Yes, that's me. Ezra turned his face away from the activity in front of him and buried his face in Buck Wilmington's large chest, seeking to disappear into the man's lavender neckerchief.

Buck frowned at his now passive and shrinking armful of gambler. Something still wasn't quite right with Ezra, Buck could sense that though he wasn't sure just what the problem was, aside from all the damage he, Vin, and Chris had taken in this hoe down. Well, time would help and then he'd see if some of the special Wilmington magic was needed. He turned his attention outward now. Over the top of Ezra's sweaty head, he watched at JD held Chris Larabee with tender care and competence. Reminded him that not that long ago the kid had nursed his dying mother back in Boston. Sad as the thought was, it also comforted Buck to know that if he couldn't be the one holding his old friend, that a man he trusted was doing the job nearly as well. What a mess. Well, he'd done what he could for now with the law of this two-bit town, now it was time to get the boys all back on their feet and out of here. He rested his chin on Ezra's head, thinking as his eyes continued to monitor Nathan's progress with Chris.

Ezra swallowed hard. The retreat into Buck's calming care had actually relaxed him. Knowing that Chris was being cared for was reassuring. For just a few minutes, he'd let his friends take care of all the problems. Just for a few minutes. As his adrenaline seeped away, so did his overused stamina. Heavy eyed, he nodded closer into the sound of Buck's heartbeat, wishing vaguely that it was the thrum of another's.

JD narrowed his eyes as he kept close watch on Nate's actions. After seeing the look on the healer's face as Chris had comforted Ezra a few minutes ago, he had to wonder if Nathan would commit completely to treating their friend. Peering intently, he was reassured by the efficient way that Jackson checked out their leader, large hands skimming over clearly old wounds, seeking any new threats. Finally, Nate sat back on his heels and shook his head tiredly. "Nate?"

Nathan had been lost in his own world of healing work as he'd examined Larabee, JD's simple query breaking his concentration. He looked up to meet the straight gaze of his youngest friend. "He'll be fine with rest. Just plain exhausted from the looks of things." He cupped his hands under Chris' and raised up the torn wrists for JD to see. "This appears to be the only new damage. We need to clean him up somewhere and then we can put new dressings on everything. After that, rest and time to heal, that's all he really needs."

Ezra, nearly drowsing, still listened and absorbed the healer's words. The simple explanation was sufficient to let him sag into sleep, knowing that Chris would be all right. That others he trusted were there to help now.

Buck drew his chin back as he felt the new heaviness of Ezra in his arms. Man's fallen asleep, he thought with a small smile. Must have heard Nate. He looked over at his other comrades and nodded to himself. Time to get things going again. "Boys, how about we move these two old buckaroos back to the carnie wagons?" It seemed to him safer than the hole of a town, especially knowing that Ezra had friends among the wagons. JD caught his eye and nodded approvingly.

Nathan nodded as well and patted the unconscious Chris Larabee on his uninjured shoulder. "Give me a minute, JD, and I'll help you with Chris." He gathered his small supplies up and slung the resulting pack over one shoulder, then climbed to his feet.

It was the work of a few moments to help Dunne hoist the pliant Larabee up and then secure him between them. Nathan looked over his shoulder at Buck. "You manage Ez all right?"

Buck grinned back. He was on his feet by now too, with Standish held easily in his arms, tucked close and snoring faintly. "Yep."

The five lawmen slowly made their way past the dead and out of the dusty corral. They stayed behind the few buildings making up that end of Two Step rather than circle in front of the livery. Less public than parading down the main street, however backwater it might be. With JD and Nate leading Larabee, who'd come to sufficiently to stagger along between them, they headed for the carnival wagon circle and the show tents. Buck followed with Ezra Standish still sleeping in his arms. He had to suppress a smirk at the way his old friend kept peering over one shoulder to check on him and his burden. Old Chris sure had it bad. Buck was actually relieved. Time the man put the past behind him and grabbed life again. Ezra was a pretty damn good choice, too. They'd spark things up for the boys, that was for damn sure.

Nathan was thinking hard. Deep in thoughts of long ago that merged with his present life, he still managed to keep track of his patient and note the tension running through the man, the way he kept checking over his shoulder for those who followed. Buck and Ezra. Ezra, likely. Well, seemed like Ez wasn't doing nothing to get Chris going now, yet the man was near yearning to pull free and get back to his man. Nathan resolved to wait and see. Maybe they really were right for each other. Hard to believe from the way he'd seen them argue in the past. But he had no right to judge. Nathan finally sighed and came to a stop, forcing JD and Chris to drag down to a halt as well.

"Nate?" JD ducked his head to see past Larabee who was craning his own backwards.

Nathan shook his head at JD distractedly before speaking to Larabee. "Chris?" He waited until the man reluctantly turned back to face the healer. "Chris, Ezra's just asleep from what Buck said. I got him patched up. You and him just need some rest. He's already taking his, that's all." Nathan smiled slightly as the eyes fixed on him seemed to blink slowly. "He trusts us to take care of you. 'Bout time you trust us to take care of him, too."

Nate was pleased to see the man's eyes reflect surprise, humor rising, and then agreement. A hoarse voice, so unlike Larabee's usual tenor, answered, "Sorry, Nate. It's just that I - " Chris paused, not sure how much to say.

"That you care about him?" Jackson supplied softly, nodding and then patting his friend with a free hand. "Yeah, that weren't hard to figure out." Nate stood up straighter, drawing Larabee and Dunne up in the process. "Looks like it's a good thing for both of you."

JD blinked back his surprise and pleasure. Nate was coming around. Thank goodness. He stole a moment to sneak a grin back at Buck and met a sly wink. So Buck had been listening. JD, heart lighter, turned back to face forward, his mind already at work on what still needed to be done. He'd only really be happy when they all rejoined Josiah and Vin. Together, the seven of them were 'invincible.' Yeah. Jock Steele's words rang true for JD at the moment. They felt right.

Soho Jack stood at the edge of the cleared rough ground, at the area the small town had reserved for his carnival to set up. Standing there, his back to the tents, temporary corrals, and wagons, he stared, narrow-eyed, at the rise of shoddy buildings. His boy was in there somewhere, Maryjane and Ven didn't know where exactly, but this other fellow, Josiah who Ven said was friend of Ezra's, said he was likely there, along with a slew of other friends. It wasn't Ezra's style to run out on a show, even if his main acts were both over. Jack tugged at one bushy end of his mustache. The acrobats and clowns were nearly finished and he had to get back inside the big top tent to introduce the dog act which finished the show. He stayed, indecisive and worried, as he waited a few more minutes.

Vin licked his lips nervously as he faced Ezra's friend, Maryjane. He couldn't sustain a lie, not when Ezra was missing and it was probably all Vin's fault for leading those bounty hunters here. "Not a cousin, ma'am, not really." He met the sharp look with a steady one of his own.

Maryjane was not unfamiliar with Ezra's flimflams. The boy had a gift, came by it naturally from his ma. She rose from her camp chair and tucked her hands into her skirts. "He must think of you that way," she answered easily, seeing the skittish look in the young man's eyes. "He doesn't lie to me or Jack, not when it matters," she dimpled, then, flashing a nearly coquettish look at Josiah as he stood awkwardly to the side of the small tent interior, she added, "but he's been known to color the truth when it suits him and doesn't harm us."

"Ma'am, he got a might colorful then this time." Vin took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We's just good friends. Ride together. Us and five others."

"Seven?" Maryjane glanced back over at Josiah who tipped his head in agreement. "Well, that's fine then. I'm happy for the boy that he's finally found good friends who'll ride the road with him."

Josiah interrupted, "Missus? Perhaps I could go check on those friends, and Ezra, now? Leave Vin with you?"

"Vin?"

"Ez called me Ven to fool those bounty hunters, ma'am." Tanner shifted uncomfortably. "Like to go with you Josiah," he added hopefully.

"Vin." Maryjane was clearly pleased at this revelation. "I like that better than Ven." She smiled at Vin, stood up and pulled one hand free from her skirts to rest it on his head, "Now, what's this about bounty hunters?"

Slipping out the tent opening as soundlessly as possible, Josiah Sanchez suppressed a chuckle at the sound of Vin's voice, quietly replying.

The Four Corners men reached the edge of town quickly, Buck shouldering ahead, still holding a drowsing Standish in his arms. He slowed to a hesitant stop at the sight of a row of clowns, armed with large mallets and short axes, standing across the newly trampled path to the carnival activities. To one side stood a rather substantial figure in a tight fitting, dressy evening suit, wearing a top hat and fingering a very respectable mustache. Buck took the time to note that, while bushy and full, it didn't have the ladies-attracting look of his own lip cover. Dragging to a halt, Wilmington grunted as Larabee, supported by Nate and JD, walked straight into his back. A flurry of cursing and scuffling behind him brought an eyebrow up on the ringmaster standing there in front of him. The row of clowns had yet to move and were eyeing him with what looked remarkably like murderous intent, despite their painted smiles. Buck pursed his lips, swallowed hard, and blinked as innocently as he could at the silent blockade.

At that moment Ezra stirred in his arms, snuggling closer and murmuring something in a soft, musical tenor. Buck shifted his hold to lift Ezra higher, ducking his head to whisper soothing words briefly, hoping to quiet the Southerner. Now was not the time to be distracted. Only, when he looked back up, things had changed. Like a candle melting, the colorful array of clowns had unfrozen, dropped their weapons to their sides, and were hurrying closer while the stiff ringmaster had torn off his top hat to smack his thigh with a mighty roar of a laugh. The fellow moved fast, shoving through what seemed like a profusion of giant flowers, but were really just the costumed clowns crowding close, to reach Buck first.

"He's all right, I take it?" there was relief and amusement in the man's voice.

Buck realized that he recognized him from the show he and the boys had watched earlier. "Yeah, just tired."

"Jack Soho." The big man rocked back on his heels and smiled at Wilmington. Around him the doubly grinning clowns, real lips and painted smiles both reflecting new good humor, laughed, slapping each other on shoulders and backs. "These boys are some of my performers."

One of the thinner clowns doffed his soft, pointed hat and then from a standing start flipped over backwards to land lightly on his feet facing them again. The others booed and whistled at the show-off. Buck grinned slowly, shaking his head and then giving Ezra a small shake for good measure. "Hey, Ez, looks like we found some of your friends, you want to wake up here or what?"

Jack and Buck shared a smile and chuckle as a muffled voice from a nearly hidden face said, "or what."

"Friends of Ezra's?" Chris Larabee had finally found his feet and shaken off his supporters firmly. He might ache a bit and be some tired, but until he and Ezra was safely together, and Vin protected, he didn't intend to just slide back and let the boys take over.

"Ez, you better be waking up now," Buck hissed as Chris shoved past him, one hand lingering on Ezra's dangling legs for a moment. Buck was afraid his old friend might just shoot first and ask later. Not an unknown strategy for the man.

Jack lost his laugh as the dangerous looking gunslinger, a bit rough around the edges, pushed forward to confront him. "Yes," he answered the man shortly.

Chris side-stepped in front of Buck and Ezra, the better to face these new men. He ignored the clown outfits and face paint, concentrating on where hands were, and who might be looking threatening.

"Chris!" Ezra was fighting his way out of Buck's arms and to his feet, suddenly alert and frightened. "Jack!"

Buck stepped back and away. This Jack was looking at Ezra's bloody clothing with alarm and clenching his fists. The other men in clown outfits had lost their smiles as well and were lifting their weapons again, looking suspicious. Filling in behind the armed clowns were the townspeople who'd flowed out of the now deserted big top, the show finished, eager to go home to warm dinners and happy memories. Chris Larabee had planted his feet and had his gun hand on the butt of his stolen pistol, still holstered at his hip. His squint and thrust-out jaw were sure signs of Larabee at his most aggravating. Buck suppressed a whimper; nope this was not likely to end well. Ezra broke free from Buck's clinging hands and staggered over to the menacing gunman, bumping into him abruptly.

JD and Nate exchanged looks and faded to the sides, better to see and cover their friends.

Chris nearly toppled over as Ezra crashed into him. He managed to catch and hug Ezra to his side, away from his stolen gun. "Stay put, Ezra."

Ezra couldn't believe it. They'd survived the mess in the corral with little serious damage and now his friends were at each other's throats, seemingly ready to each murder the other. "NO, I shall certainly not!" Reaching around behind Chris, he placed his hand atop Larabee's gun hand and pressed hand and gun firmly downward. Chris didn't take kindly to this and tried to spin around and free himself, only succeeding in spinning both of them in a free-wheeling fall that ended with a tangle of limbs and growls.

Jack stared down in amazement as his Ezra grinned unrepentantly back up at him before stealing a breathtaking kiss from the badly disgruntled gunslinger that was twisted around him on the ground. By now, the circle of Four Corners men, carnival clowns, Buck, and Jack hid the grounded men from the view of the homeward bound townspeople who were pushing past in an uncaring stream. Jack folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to better see, twitched his upper lip to hide his newest grin and looked up to meet the now merry eyes of another mustached fellow, the one who'd been toting Ezra moments ago. In silence, they shared their relief and enjoyment.

Chris was stunned by Ezra's actions, dizzy from the spinning fall, and now lost in Ezra's kiss. To hell with everyone. Ezra still loved him and was prepared to show it. Since no bullets were flying he was just held on tight and kissed his crazy lover back with great satisfaction.

Chris lay on his back, pounding headache gone and dizziness abated; a layer of blankets padding the ground beneath him, thin canvas blocking the night sky above him. Ezra lay on top of him, slewed slightly to the side, sleeping soundly and snoring so faintly that Chris found himself holding his breath to catch the little burr of sound. It was reassuring to hear Ezra so relaxed, so completely at home - in Chris' arms again. Where he belonged.

They'd spent a long evening together in the carnie camp, quietly righting the misunderstanding that had started their misadventures. The wounded look that Ezra had worn worried Chris until they talked out Chris' dream-talk and call-out of Vin's name in the nighttime only nights ago.

Ezra's quiet comment about his own lack of worth among the friendships of the seven had Chris responding quickly and firmly, laying those doubts to rest with terse but caring words. "Ezra, you are my reason for life. Don't ever doubt it again!" he ignored the rasp in his throat, slowly healing but still an irritant. This was too important and as long as he kept his voice at a near whisper, it didn't stress him too much.

Tenderly, he'd smothered the southerner's response with a persistent kiss, then nibbled the man's lower lip until what appeared to be a doubting pout eased into a reluctant quirk of a smile. Chris encouraged that smile with some simple words. "The others care about you too, you know. You are important to all of us. They all consider you their friend."

"And you?" Ezra muttered into Chris' parted lips lightly touching his.

"Nope." When Ezra tried to pull back, Chris pressed forward, licking and pecking all along the fine lips. "A friend just doesn't begin to cover what you are to me. You are my everything, Ezra. I love you, hell, I even like you!" He grinned a tight flash of teeth against his man's cheek then and felt Ezra's body-sigh in response. "So for me, friend is just the beginning of what you are and, there ain't no ending."

"None?" Ezra's tone was happily teasing.

Finally! Chris relaxed, coaxing another soft kiss. "Never. We're forever, my love, forever."

Ezra's body became loose, stress and tension flowing away as he felt the reassurances and love from Chris flood his system. "I love you, Chris," he offered, needing still more.

"Ezra, I love you so much my heart aches." Chris gathered the man impossibly closer and gently pulled them into a bundle beneath the covers, careful of Ezra's small gunshot burns. Both sets of eyes closed and the two dropped into their first comfortable rest since this all began.

Now wakeful in predawn's creep, Chris reflected on their 'other' problem. Ezra had introduced Chris more formally to Soho Jack and Maryjane, blushing as he cleared up his little deception about his 'cousin' Ven. The couple clearly cared about the southerner because they accepted his explanation and managed to tease him at the same time. It was for Josiah, who'd spoken up for the seemingly speechless Vin Tanner, to point out the dilemma that remained for the group to resolve. Jack and Maryjane agreed to continue the small falsehood of 'Ven' until the current residents of the tiny jail in Two Step could be dealt with and sent on their way without fear of circling back to Four Corners.

Chris rested one hand on Ezra's back burrowed under the man's sleeping shirt, fingers lightly stroking the smooth skin in small circles, as he thought about their problem. Vin was still in danger. A smile stole across Larabee's face as he recalled Buck's description of Vin as the bearded lady of the sideshow. It had been a clever disguise - and not one of the lawmen intended to ever let Vin forget about his day in a dress. A huff of air, a single chuckle, raised Chris' chest, pushing Ezra upward for a moment. Standish grunted in his sleep, a small groan seeping out. Chris settled him with both hands carefully stroking down, then up Ezra's spine. He responded with another, smaller sound, more of contentment this time. Chris lifted his head to place a kiss on Ezra's brow, the man's head resting directly beneath Larabee's chin.

Josiah had declared confidently that Ezra would figure something out. The other four men had looked hopefully over at Standish who'd shrunk back against Chris where they sat together around the campfire early in the evening. Chris had hugged the man closer, leaving his arms protectively around Ezra as he answered for his lover. "We can all sleep on it tonight. Figure something out in the morning." He'd felt Ezra's tension ease then and was glad he'd prevented the others from pressing their concern. Vin was like a brother to Chris and they would deal with it. Just later, tomorrow...today? Chris raised his chin and squinted out of the open flap of the tent, studying the patch of sky he could see. Yep, looked lighter. Dawn. Damn.

"Tigers?" Chris looked askance at Ezra over morning coffee as they sat around the campfire that the Seven had claimed.

Ezra's bright green eyes sparkled with renewed energy, and love, as he smiled over at his best friend and lover. "Yes." He stood languidly and stretched, a silent smirk stretched across his face.

"It was unbelievable, Chris!" JD sprang to his feet and waved his arms, then proceeded to describe in great detail the performance that he, Buck, Nathan and Josiah had witnessed only the day before. Buck finally kicked out one leg and swung it wide, knocking Dunne behind the knees and, in surprise, to the ground. "HEY!"

"Kid, enough, we were there, remember?"

"But Chris wasn't!" JD snapped back indignantly as he brushed off his pants and settled back down where he'd been sitting earlier.

"Ezra can tell him all about it, give him all the good stuff, later."

"That he can," Josiah smiled wisely and Nathan choked on a mouthful of coffee, spurting some in a spray out to hiss down into the low fire.

"That he does." Chris stood up and leaned against Ezra who promptly leaned back, their shoulders rubbing left to right. They smiled knowingly first at each other, then at the men twinkling up at them.

Vin scratched in the dirt with a stick, not looking up as he frowned and spoke softly, "I'm gonna leave today. Maybe head for Texas."

"Whoa, there son!" Buck reached out and grabbed one of Vin's shoulders and gave it a tug. "We'll get this done, you just settle down."

Ezra sighed and pushed away from Chris, moved to the center of the clearing and faced Vin. "Vin, you simply have to die."

"Oh my god! The tigers?" JD's intuitive leap was accompanied by eyes that had grown into saucers and he stared, first at Ezra, then, in awe, at Vin.

The other men had all stiffened at Ezra's pronouncement, amusement fled, as they waited for more information.

"Yes," Ezra nodded at Dunne, "the tigers."

Seeing the looks of horror mixed with confusion on his friends' faces, Standish smiled back reassuringly. "Those dear ladies will never touch a hair of Vin's head," he turned to wink at Tanner, adding, "no matter how tempting the locks might be."

Chris moved to stand once more behind Ezra and clamped hands down firmly on his lover's shoulders. He dug in, massaging the shoulder muscles and watching tension ease out of Ezra's neck. "So, how do we do it?"

Ezra passed a soft smile back over one shoulder at his blond. Looking then at the others, he answered. "We give the townsfolk, and the bounty hunters something they'd expect to see. Bloody corpse, feeding tigers, and the regrettable remains of Mr. Tanner's wardrobe."

"Wait a minute there, Ezra!" Vin surged to his feet, dumping the last of his tin cup's coffee on the fire. "My hat and coat ain't an option there, pard!"

Ezra scratched under his chin, consideringly as the rest of the men grinned. Buck's eyebrows were raised in amusement and Josiah's mouth was a toothy smile as he leaned back on his saddle and put his hands behind his head, clearly waiting for the rest of the plan.

"Well, it has to appear as if the rags were once Mr. Tanner's fine raiment." He muttered under this breath, just loud enough for Chris to hear - and Nathan and JD who were seated closest to him, "Though losing those tattered bits would not have been a great loss."

Vin straightened, outrage writ large on his face. "I heard that!"

Chris leaned forward, struggling with a smile, while he clenched his fingers more firmly into Ezra's shoulders, forcing a wince from his friend as he said clearly, "Relax, Vin, Ez here will respect what's yours."

Suspiciously, Tanner stepped back, arms folded defensively across his chest, and leather coat, cocking one eyebrow in silent query.

With a put-upon sigh, Ezra shrugged himself free of Chris' near death-like grip on his shoulders, working them and rolling his neck as well. "We shall find some leather scraps of that color among the carnie folks' goods - or seek some out in this tiny hamlet. Either way, with skillful application of needle and thread, blood and meat, the tale will be told of Mr. Tanner's ugly demise."

"How do we rig it so that those bounty hunters see it and believe it?" Nathan asked, interested despite himself.

"As to that," Ezra began, sinking down to his former seat by the fire, Chris dropping directly behind him, "Let me explain..." He tossed a quick smile and assessment toward Larabee, giving the man leave to hover - for now.

John Acorn and his men lounged in the one bare cell of the tiny jail, silently eyeing the two rough trail hands that had been shoved in with them. The men looked fearful and shocky and had backed into a corner away from the bounty hunters. Acorn figured it had something to do with the shooting he and his boys heard right after they'd been pushed into the jailhouse. Bellying up to the bars of the cell, he gripped two with his hands and forced his face tight between them. "Hey, is the marshal out there?"

Edgar Bennis cocked an eye at Henry Pauley. "Marshall Slater is still outside. You'll just have to wait." The answering growl was enough to convince the volunteer deputies that standing out front on the jail's shallow porch was better than being inside with more prisoners than Two Step had ever had before.

The two men shuffled out the open door, ignoring Acorn's indignant shout of "Hey!"

"Marshal, really, it's just like Buck says," JD tried earnestly. Buck bobbed his head and pushed the shot glass of whiskey over at Lonnie Slater again.

JD and Buck had cornered Slater in the single saloon, and were trying to share a drink with the reluctant man. That Lonnie was untrusting was no surprise despite Buck's honeyed suggestions out behind the livery at the site of the shootout the day before. But, he and Buck were on a mission now. They had to convince Slater that the cooped up bounty hunters who had disturbed the peace of Two Step were after a man still with the carnival. And that that man was likely to get away today, now that he knew the coast was clear.

Ezra's intricate plan depended upon them getting the men loose now so that when they reached the carnie camp, they would 'discover' Vin's ravaged body with the tigers hovering over the still warm corpse. First, they had to get Slater to let the men go when Buck, only yesterday, had just managed to convince Slater that he should keep them for several days - until Wilmington and his friends had left.

Admitting that they'd spotted Acorn's bounty was tricky but Buck was smooth as silk. JD's sincerity was their trump, according to Ezra. And Lonnie Slater, part time marshal, finally looked halfway trusting. "Why don't you boys just collect the bounty yourselves?"

JD had a ready answer thanks to Ezra's thorough planning. "They'd likely follow us and try to snatch the man. We don't need any more trouble. Just like to make sure nothing comes after us." He blinked his deep brown eyes and looked up square into Slater's. That seemed to be the push the man needed.

Lonnie nodded decisively, looked once more at Buck's encouraging smile. He grabbed the offered drink and downed it quickly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Alright." He squared his shoulders and turned away from the bar. "I'll let them go, but," he turned back to look at the two lawmen from Four Corners, "you best be ready to back me if there's any trouble over this."

JD and Buck both gave him strong single nods and said in unison, "We will." They watched the marshal walk slowly out of the small saloon and then darted glances at each other. With only eye contact for their mutual accord, the two ducked out the back curtained doorway. Once out in the backyard of the saloon they stepped clear of the path to the privy and dashed off toward the carnie camp to warn the others.

Vin fiddled with his suspenders, a gift from Maryjane, and sighed. The carnies had produced enough hide to make a matching hat and some sections of what might have once been a capote style jacket. Someone had donated a pair of buckskin breeches that were a close-enough match to his own.

The fact that he wasn't lying there in the tigers' wagon was the only thing that kept Vin quiet and hidden in Soho Jack's gypsy caravan cart. Squinting out behind the gingham curtain, he could see through the tiny side window enough to spot Buck come running into camp, JD hot behind him. Vin watched tensely, one hand on the workings of his mare's leg, as Buck swung around and Chris rose up to meet him next to a nearby campfire. Both were looking back up the path.

JD had kept on to where Soho Jack was standing at the tigers' cage-wagon. The two men turned and spoke to someone inside with the cats. Vin knew it was Ezra. He truly hoped those big cats loved Ezra as much as he claimed. Ez had two patched up spots on him that were bound to give off the scent of blood. His friend was risking life and likely limb for the tracker and Vin knew it. The mule deer carcass, that was the rough remains of Vin's hunting prowess and a noontime feast for the carnival folks, was being handed up through the open cage door by two carnie roustabouts. Using his eyeglass, Vin could see the bits of buckskin, coat and hat, even some old boots tangled up with the carcass.

"Damn!" he whispered as he spotted Ezra accepting the mess and dropping down onto the thick layer of straw bedding. Both cats were pressing closely, looking oddly like barn cats with the curious expressions on their well-fed faces. Good thing we stuffed'em full this morning, likely they'll just sniff and lick. He knew that was also why Ezra remained in the cage with them - to prod them into acting their parts of savagery at the sorry remains of one 'Vin Tanner.'

Lonnie Slater scratched his head, holding his hat above it as he watched the five bounty hunters quickly sling on their rigs and check their weapons. "Remember now, boys," he warned, "no shooting at those carnival people or the lawmen out of Four Corners." He frowned when their leader, Acorn, turned with a harsh look in his direction. "I mean it. Take your bounty and scat. I see you around here again, I'll have you up in front of judge."

John Acorn's lips tightened but then Jim Hansey's hand was on his arm, urging him silently to move. He gave the small town marshal a nod and followed his men out of the jail and onto the dirt street that was the heart of Two Step. It was cloudy, though it didn't look to be raining. Just a gray day. He took a deep breath of the dusty air and spat to one side. "All right, let's go find Tanner."

Bald Ed Morse, Jim Hansey, Tom Upton, and Frank Kendal followed Acorn up the road on foot. They headed for the baggage train part of the carnival camp. There were horses to retrieve from where they'd tied them yesterday.

If any of the bounty hunters noticed that their mounts looked content, neither hungry nor thirsty, they made no comment. Focused on their quarry, they pulled reins free of the wagon wheels where the horses had been tied the day before and swiftly mounted. Backing and turning, the whole passel of riders headed into the camp, guns in hands. They had barely broached the main camp clearing when several screams and panicked shouts routed all the people in front of them.

In confusion, Acorn yanked hard at his mount's reins and blinked. The carnies, a moment ago slowly working or sitting around the midday bonfires, were gone. He didn't know what was happening but his bounty was nowhere to be seen so he waved his men along and took off after the fleeing crowd.

From their vantage on horseback, the five men could easily see the gather of men and women surrounding one wagon. "Shit, that's the one with the tigers in it!" called Hansey as they drew up. The others saw the markings as well. But it was the sight beyond the cage bars that had everyone staring in horror.

Cursing and screaming hoarsely, Chris Larabee was being restrained near the cage door by Buck Wilmington. Acorn recognized the gunslingers that claimed to be lawmen. He ducked and lowered the brim of his hat but leaned forward to see what it was that had Larabee trying to reach the cage. By the door stood a huge man with a great handlebar mustache, poking inside the cage desperately. His long pole only seemed to irritate the striped cats, not dissuade them from their apparent feast.

The two cats were snarling and roaring, practically fighting over what looked to be all that was left of some poor fool. Acorn could see parts of a hat and jacket, buckskin pants and dark boots and long blondish-brown hair. What the hell? No! He nearly dropped his gun, then shakily settled it back in its holster and put his hands on his saddle horn, leaning up and forward to see better. Sure enough, one of the legs gave a kick. One of the arms seemed to push back at the bloody maw of the larger tiger that crouched over - Tanner! Vin Tanner! The way Larabee was carrying on, who else could it be? There was a gagging scream from the wagon and a triumphant howl from the second tiger that darted forward to snatch some meat - flesh - from under the nose of the first. The two began to tussle over their prize while Tanner jerked and then collapsed limply, unmoving.

The wail of grief from the observers was like a wave washing over the bounty hunters. With grim attention, they watched the man at the gate cry out and sag back.

Then Larabee gave a bellow of denial and dragged Wilmington bodily to the bars of the wagon and tried to reach in, calling out in a scratchy voice, "No! No! Viiiiinnnn!"

Two other men surged out of the crowd to help Wilmington pull Larabee back and to safety. Someone lowered the curtain on the wagon and the man at the gate turned to the crowd. "Too late. We were too late." His voice shook and his face was red, tears streaming down. Several women dropped to their knees with hands covering their faces, men nearby stooping to offer comfort. The man, apparently head of the carnival, stood up and called out, "We'll have to wait until they settle down before we can get the body out."

"What's left of it, you mean, Jack," someone stated in a loud voice.

"Aye, likely won't be enough for a decent funeral," 'Jack' answered with a sad tone, shaking his head. Slowly the crowd parted, moving separately or in small groups away from the tigers' wagon. 'Jack' stood beside it, folding his arms. The Four Corners men had subdued Larabee and were leading him away and around a tinker's wagon to one side of the clearing.

John Acorn stared suspiciously at the tigers' wagon, insides now closed from view. He gigged his horse forward, letting it plod right up to 'Jack.' His men followed without comment, the only sound their horses' hooves meeting the dirt.

"You there." Acorn pulled up. "Jack?"

"That's me, boyo." The man was older than Acorn and stared at him with a bold eye, ignoring his reddened cheeks and tear streaks as he straightened and put his fists on his hips. "And who might you be?"

"John Acorn." Acorn nodded back toward his followers. "My men. We're bounty hunters, trailing a man named Vin Tanner."

"Well, you be too late for Tanner," Jack shrugged and tipped his head toward the hidden tiger cage. "Didn't know he was wanted. He met up with some friends here but must have heard about you. I wondered why anyone would be fool enough to sneak into the tigers' own house." Shaking his head, he lowered it and let his hands fall to his sides. "Don't think there'll be enough left for you boys now." He tapped the curtain beside him. "Stick around and you can take a look when we can get in there to get what's left of him out."

"So it was Tanner?" Acorn snarled and spat again.

"Yes, sir, he was."

Hansey drew up beside Acorn and leaned in. "We had that bounty over in Fremont County to get. Maybe it's time to ride?"

John Acorn stared hard at the man Jack. He turned his head slowly and stared at the painted mural of two snarling tigers that was the curtain blocking his view of the dead man. What a waste of time! Abruptly he nodded to Hansey and backed his horse. "Let's go."

The others reined their mounts and set off at a quick walk to keep up with their leader as he headed across the clearing, ignoring shouts of complaint as his horse trampled several bedrolls and knocked over a tripod-set pot. His men and horses created further chaos behind them as they too rode straight through the camp and out.

JD looked up scowling into understanding blue eyes as Buck Wilmington grabbed his handful of Colt and shoved it skyward, clamping on JD's fingers so that he couldn't fire. "Just let them go, kid. Ez will see it right with these folks." He stared after the bounty hunters, watching them trot up the valley, breaking into gallops as they met the dirt road leading out of the area. "They're gone. That's all that matters."

Josiah, who had taken over the restraint of Larabee, finally released Chris' arm when Buck waved from the far end of the carnie camp. The bounty hunters had truly left. He turned back to speak to Chris but the man was already trotting over to where Soho Jack and a roustabout were pulling up the tigers' curtain on their wagon. The scene within was gruesome in the extreme. However, no one nearby seemed the least bit upset by it anymore.

Soho Jack was still trying to contain his laughter. He had had to fight to keep a straight face when the bounty hunters were close enough to see. The way Ezra had been rolling around in that mess of deer guts, wig, and half-assed bits of 'clothing' had his laughing so hard he'd gone red in the face and started crying. Lucky for him, the bad men had figured he was simply upset. Lucky, because he could tell that Ezra would have killed him otherwise. Jack looked up and saw Ezra's gunslinger coming so he waved his arm expansively toward the door of the cage now exposed. There was Sindhaj, their larger tiger, rubbing up against the bars and purring deeply, her muzzle still a bit bloody. He gave a heavy slap to the big cat's side and spoke firmly, "Back up, baby!"

The cat turned in a heavy leisurely fashion, revealing a rumpled Ezra Standish still lying in a tangle of buckskin and gore. Ezra cocked an eyebrow and twisted to look up and out of the cage without showing himself. Jack grinned at his foster son and said, "All clear, my boy." He leaned back, massive stomach thrust forward and stroked his mustache with one hand, leaning on the wagon with his other.

Then Chris was there, wrapping his hands around the bars and tugging at the door, shoving Clarice's head back unceremoniously with a deep growl of his own. The cat actually sat down and drew her head back in obvious surprise, then batted at one of Larabee's fists with a huge paw, claws still retracted. Did he want to play?

"Damn it, Ezra! Get yourself out of there now!" Larabee's voice cracked in a combination of fear and stressed vocal cords from his still healing throat.

Both Jack and Ezra straightened at Larabee's distress, Ezra calling out, "All is well, Chris." He pushed himself up onto his knees where he was instantly assaulted from both sides by the cats who rubbed him with their large heads.

Jack reached forward and opened the door, then swung one arm in front of Chris to stop him from climbing inside. "Whoa, there, boyo! Ezra will be out in a moment, just has to reassure the ladies. They don't know you well enough for you to get in with them."

Chris grit his teeth and hung over Soho's arm. "Ezra!" He wanted, no, he needed to have Ezra out of there and beside him, safe. He still couldn't believe he'd agreed to this farce. And pretending to scream for Vin when it was his Ezra who was in danger was something he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forgive himself for. Oh, god, what a mess he'd gotten them all into. He strained toward Ezra, now hidden again by those two huge tigers. Swallowing hard he gripped Jack's arm with both hands and reminded himself that Ezra had already forgiven him. He barely spared a glance to the side when Vin strolled up with Nathan, both looking pleased about the way the scam had gone.

Josiah arrived, along with Buck and JD just as Ezra managed to resurface from under the living shaggy carpets of orange and black stripes that were covering him. "I'm coming," he muttered standing, wriggling free. Then more loudly, "Clarice! That's my cuff link. Let go!" He yanked a wrist free from the cat's wrinkled nose and extended tongue. Chris was waiting, there was no time for this, even if the girls had been great, playfully menacing at his encouragement earlier. "Clarice, Sindhaj, down." The rest of his command was silent, simply swift hand gestures that had the two big jungle cats reluctantly drawing back and circling away from him toward the far side of their caged wagon.

Ezra stooped to drag the carcass and buckskin pile to the doorway standing open. He could see that Chris was ready to burst but if he left this mess in with the girls, one of them might choke on it. Jim Boots, a roustabout now standing beside Jack, leaned in to help him, pulling everything out and down to the ground. Ezra spared a tight grin for the man, "Thanks, Jimmy."

Dusting his hands, Ezra attempted to brush the debris off from his habiliment. With a sigh of defeat, he wiped his hands on his shirt, cringing at his action as he emerged at the doorway of the wagon. The sight of his friend Jack's still flushed face aggravated him anew. He threw a disgruntled look at Jack. "It's a good thing those tears looked like grief, Jack! If any of those men had realized that you'd nearly collapsed in amusement, our little charade would have failed embarrassingly."

Before he could add more to his irritated complaint, his wrist was circled in an iron grip and he was literally yanked from the wagon to fall into Chris' arms. "Oof!" He grunted and staggered within Chris' hold, steadied by his lover's arms.

"Damn. Ezra." Chris was reduced to hoarse mutters against Standish's neck. Larabee tried to stop shaking but he kept flashing on images of those damn tigers snarling over Ezra's body. Even knowing it was a sham didn't help. He'd felt so helpless and that wasn't a feeling he liked. He crushed Ezra tighter, savoring the feel of that beloved heart beating against his own. He licked the closest bit of skin beneath his mouth and felt Ezra twitch and respond against him. With a sigh, he began to breath more deeply, enjoying the rightness of having this man back in his arms.

Ezra was finally realizing just how upset Larabee had been. He began stroking wherever he could reach, sliding a hand through ragged blond hair, knocking the man's black hat back on its chin strap, murmuring softly, "I'm fine, really I am. It's over now, Vin's safe, and everything's alright."

Behind them, the door to the cage clanged shut and Jack fastened the hasp in place as Jimmy dropped the curtain on the tigers once again. Two other fellows joined him and together they gathered up the messy heap of cloth, leather and remnants of the mule deer. Pausing briefly, Jimmy tossed the now filthy wig to Soho Jack.

"Oh, oh." Jack delicately fingered the long hair that stuck to his fingers with brownish drying blood. "Ezra, you are going to explain this to Maryjane." He was ignored.

Maryjane, who had been watching from a distance, came up beside him and shook her head as he offered the limp swatch of hair to her. "Ezra will owe me for a new one," she said smiling at the couple still lost to themselves, in front everyone. She flicked fingers against the ruined wig and her Jack let it fall to the earth. It would be buried with the rest of 'Vin Tanner.' And that would be good. She had grown to like Ezra's friend and pseudo-cousin.

By now, the rest of the seven had found places to sit, stand or lean as they waited out their friends' clench. Finally, Josiah, who had settled on a bale of hay, scratched at his chin and commented, "Any chance they start growing into each other, Nate?"

Grins, already on all faces, widened. "Ya mean, like them Siamese twins?" Nathan, one arm up with his elbow resting on JD's shoulder, coughed into a fist and looked back with amusement. "More likely to just stick to each other with all that muck on Ezra."

"Think old Ez has figured out how dirty he is yet?" Vin asked the group. He stretched his aching back and wondered if he could ever repay Ezra and Chris and the others for helping him 'die' for the bounty hunters. He smiled and nodded his thanks to Soho Jack and Maryjane who were standing there beaming at them all.

Buck, who was standing beside Vin, stroking his chin in assessment, looked over and tipped the tracker's hat forward into his eyes. "Yep. Don't think he cares right now. But, oh, he will, he will." He laughed and stepped back as Tanner poked him lightly with a fist to his arm. "The bathhouse sure will be busy for a spell."

JD, not to be left out, joked, "Bet Ez won't wait that long." He smiled around at the carnival troupe and the colorful wagons and gear, tents still up for yesterday's show. "But, after all this, I don't guess Ezra will ever run away to the circus again."

Maryjane, who was now arm and arm with her husband, Soho Jack, smiled back at the young charmer Ezra had introduced as their sheriff, JD Dunne. "Child, Ezra never had to run away to the circus. His mama left him there instead."

"Good thing, too," Soho Jack said, turning his wife away and leading her from the group after giving a final nod to the seven men. Over his shoulder, he said, "Still say he's the best performer we ever trained up." He turned back to Maryjane and continued, loudly, "Too bad he's gonna run away from us again, back to a plain old ordinary life as a lawman." Both were smiling broadly as they strolled back toward their tinker wagon.

Stunned, the five listening peacekeepers exchanged puzzled half-smiles until suddenly Josiah and Buck broke into guffaws. The others followed, their hilarity finally doing what the other comments had not, interrupting the lovers in front of them.

Chris raised his head from his shoulder hunch over Ezra. He glared at the others, "What?"

Ezra tucked his chin in and back as he leaned out from Chris to swivel his head and look at their friends, collapsed around them in great spasms of mirth. "I think it might be time to depart," he remarked up to Chris, a twinkle in his soft green eyes.

Larabee met those talking eyes and smirked, then nodded seriously, eyed his men currently rolling in the dirt, slapping each other and squealing, then looked back down at the man in his arms. "Let's go. They can catch up."

Ezra nodded in turn. Separating, though keeping hand fit tightly into hand, they picked their way out of the circle of their friends and towards where all the Seven's horses were hitched and ready, in case a quick get-away was needed. The scam had succeeded, and goodbyes had already been said. Four Corners - home - beckoned them. As they strolled through the camp, behind them their friends were slowly regaining their feet and tripping and laughing still, following them. Home.

The End