satyricon au go go

Auld Lang Syne

Buck hissed and eased back in the biggest copper tub they had in the bathhouse, slopping with steaming water. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back sliding into the water, his eyes only snapping open as he heard the jangle of spurs on the floorboards of the bathhouse.

"Buck," Chris greeted with a grin as Buck tried not to squirm or shift restlessly in enormous tub.

"Help you with, ah, anything, Chris?" Buck twisted again in the water, gasping and choking off a groan.

Chris' smile grew broader.

"I was thinking of riding out to my place tomorrow. Want to come?" His eyes sparkled with amusement.

Buck's cheeks were flushed and nothing could stop the soft moans that kept escaping from his lips.

"Uh huh," Buck managed to nod, his hands gripping the sides of the bath enough to make dents on the side.

Chris nodded, almost too tickled for words.

"Good. See you tomorrow then. Night, Buck. Night, Ezra," he called towards the soapy water of the bath and walked out, almost laughing.

Buck was about to issue forth a retort but instead arched back with a rush of breath.

Ezra surged up from the water like a dolphin, looking smug, sloshing water over the sides.

"I thought you must have drowned by now," Buck teased breathlessly.

Ezra just smiled, slithered forward over Buck's chest and kissed him, smothering another groan from Buck as Ezra's long fingers slipped inside him. He stroked in and out, making Buck writhe under him in the now tepid water, all the while kissing him deeply because he knew Buck was a screamer.

Ezra drew back, letting Buck catch his breath, gently pushing his knees up, then he leant into Buck's embrace, covering his mouth again. Buck must have been an adventurous youth because Ezra always slid into him like warm butter. It was delicious. None of Vin's nervous tightness. Buck opened up to him and held him tight in his arms and Ezra loved it. He loved the feel of Buck's arms and legs wrapped around him, loved the feel of Buck's skin rubbing against his, loved the tickle of Buck's moustache against his lips. He loved Buck's playfulness and tenderness. He rose up, leaning on Buck's shoulders, eyes locked together. Buck kept panting the word 'yes' in time with Ezra's thrusts, urging him on.

Ezra pushed forward, as deep as he could go in the tub and bit down on the heady rush of his release. He buried his face in the crook of Buck's shoulder and tried to catch his breath as Buck held him, stroking his wet hair. Gently, Buck tilted Ezra's face up so he could kiss him, then he let Ezra rest upon him a little more.

In this last year Ezra had finally crossed wholly into manhood, leaving most of his boyish ways behind, but wet and sated like this, with darkened eyes and swollen lips and the masks all slipped away he still looked as young as Buck had first seen him. Not as young as JD, not by a long shot, but still with a brittle vulnerability that had hooked Buck, right through the heart.

Ezra looked up at him and Buck felt that kick in his guts again. He brushed Ezra's lips softly with his thumb. The water was getting cold and he was going to get sore. They rearranged themselves again, treasuring a rare quiet moment, then the water lost a few more degrees and all its appeal and Buck nudged Ezra to get out of the bath.

Several hours later found them gathered at their usual table in Ezra's hard won saloon, playing cards with Ezra more for sport than any hope of actually winning anything.

Buck threw a coin into the middle of the table.

"You never told me you were buying that hotel."

"Bought. And I was always taught never to talk with my mouth full."

Buck choked on his whisky, remembering the bathhouse, and JD chuckled at Buck's blushing.

"So you're my new landlord."

Ezra just smiled his Cheshire smile.

Buck laid his cards down on the table, wishing they were better. JD folded and then Ezra - Ezra, to his shock, folded too.

Buck sat confused for several long moments, then he turned Ezra's hand over, compared it with his own and realised he'd really beaten him.

"I've won?" he asked, needing confirmation.

"The cards never lie."

Buck's expression turned shrewd at the cheerful note in Ezra's voice.

"Did you let me win?" he asked, suspicious, the shine going off his good fortune.

Ezra gave him his best poker face.

"Why, my dear Beauregarde, are you accusing me of cheating?"

"Well, no," Buck back pedalled, flushed, knowing such a suggestion was an affront to Ezra, even if it was the truth more often than not.

"And besides," Ezra continued archly. "When have you ever known me to give away money?"

Well, that settled it. Never. Buck scooped up his winnings with a clear conscience, under Ezra's watchful eye.

They played a few more hands, then called it quits, Ezra escorting Buck back to his room. Buck was still stewing over his sudden change in fortunes as they crossed the road together.

"You let me win," Buck was affronted, believing himself to have fallen for one of Ezra's tricks again.

"No," Ezra was looking entirely sincere. "I didn't. I didn't cheat you. That's why you won."

"You -" Buck had trouble forming the words, flabbergasted. "You mean you've been cheating me all this time?"

Ezra's cool green eyes would neither confirm nor deny such an accusation.

Buck turned around in a little dance, torn between smacking Ezra down or hugging him close. The little bastard had been cheating him, but had stopped, out of love. Must be, Ezra would never lose deliberately elsewise. Buck just shook his head. It was the darndest thing, his friendship with Ezra. Only his dear Ezra could turn a momentary lapse in his mercenary nature into a declaration of great affection.

"Why I oughta," was as far as the threat went. He hugged Ezra close for a moment, then let him go, they being on the still busy main street after all.

Ezra just gave Buck his most impish grin and Buck grabbed the little scallywag and dragged him up to his hotel room.

ª

Chris stopped his digging, stood back and rested on his shovel while Buck dropped the fence post in the hole again, checking for depth, giving it a good wiggle. No, it still needed a few more inches. He lifted the heavy post out again.

Chris was still leaning on his shovel, barechested and sweating under the late afternoon sun, needing a break.

Buck tilted the post towards Chris, signalling he willingness to swap for a while.

Leaning on the post, Chris watched Buck dig out a couple of shovel fulls of dirt before he spoke.

"How's Ezra treating you?"

Buck stopped, instantly, straightening, all the friendship gone from his face.

"I'm not going to talk about Ezra with you." Seeing Chris' failure to take his meaning, he slammed the shovel sharply into the ground like a stake and stepped closer. "You drove the boy to try and kill himself, Chris. What you did to him..."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not to me you should be apologising."

Buck went back to digging in short, angry movements that were going to make his back burn.

Chris watched him and nodded. What he'd done, what Buck knew he had done, it didn't deserve forgiving. He'd been mad with rage and jealousy and he'd taken it out, all of it, on Ezra. All the years of pent up misery and frustration had exploded out of him because Ezra had goaded him. He still didn't know why Ezra had pushed him like that. He guessed he never would, though he seen those brief flashes of pain in Ezra's eyes, a pain that sometimes matched his own.

Lately, though, Ezra had slowly been brought back to his former, wickedly cheerful self and Buck's face just lit up so much whenever he was around Ezra that you could almost read a book by him. That's what Chris had wanted to comment about, the happiness he saw in his friends, a happiness he envied. He hated to be reminded of the misery he'd caused. He could never forget what he'd done to Ezra. Never. Ezra bore the scars still, on his body and in his eyes.

"I never meant to hurt him."

"Yes, you did." Buck's shovel stumped into the hard baked soil again. The shovel thumped down three more times before he stopped and looked across at Chris.

"You know Ezra will do anything for attention, even the wrong sort of attention. You played his game, even after I told you to leave him alone. Ezra needs to feel special. Tricking people into hating him or hurting him works just as well as - I actually think it's easier for him. You let him get to you, Chris, but that don't excuse what you did. You're supposed to be better than Ezra."

"You know I'm not. I'm no better than anyone."

"I know it. Ezra knew it." The shovel slammed down again.

"Why'd he do it. Why did he push me like that?"

Buck tossed a spadeful of dirt out of the way. "I told you. He wanted you to notice him. You singled him out and you made him feel important. Ezra likes to be the centre of attention."

He was certainly that. Ezra was very hard to ignore. Even just sitting in the saloon in that bright red coat of his, he always drew your eyes to him. He was always getting himself in trouble. Out of boredom, Chris now realised, rather than spite. Ezra didn't mean to be difficult, he just needed somebody to give a damn.

"I'm really sorry." Chris tried again, and Buck heard it in his voice. He nodded. That was all that was needed to begin to put things right between them, or at least, an agreement to try and put it behind them.

"He seems happy."

"I hope so. He isn't as thick-skinned as he pretends to be. You have to treat him gentle, he bruises real easy."

"Like a girl," Chris grinned. "That's why you like Ezra so much. He's just a girl with a dick."

Buck threw a shovel full of dirt at him. Chris ducked away, missing most of it.

Buck leant on his shovel. "I like the way he smells and the way he feels wrapped around me. I love the way he looks and the way he makes me laugh. He has a good heart, though he sees that as a character flaw right now. I don't mind trying to teach him right from wrong."

"Somebody has to," Chris agreed, smiling.

"Ezra doesn't know any better. I think I'm the first person to really give a damn about him. No one's ever loved him the way I do."

"You love him?" Chris couldn't help his exclamation.

Buck couldn't believe his admission. He considered it for several long moments, then smiled and nodded, agreeing with himself.

"Yes, I do," he beamed.

"Have you told Ezra?"

Buck ducked his head. "No. I think I might scare him off."

"You could be right." Chris asked again: "You really love him?"

Buck tilted his head.

"How did you know you were in love with Sarah?"

"I just knew."

Buck smiled. "I just know."

ª

Chris lounged against the wall of the gaol, watching Buck stomp up onto the veranda of the saloon, sling off his coat and slump down in the chair Ezra had sprung from.

Buck was saying something, no doubt complaining about the hard labour Chris had subjected him to. He saw Ezra smile.

Ezra was flashing Buck his million dollar smile, and Buck went weak at the knees again for a moment. He was a sucker for those dimples, the twinkle in those eyes.

It wasn't as though Ezra's smiles were rare, in fact he smiled all the time, and Buck had learnt to read what Ezra's smiles meant. There were the solicitous, business smiles that he trotted out when he was gambling or busy working some scheme, conning somebody. Then there were the fixed smiles he wore as a shield, to hide how much a careless word from Chris or Nathan had cut him to the quick, again. Next were his real smiles, the ones that shone when he was genuinely amused and playful. Best of all were the smiles he gave to Buck, full of warmth and friendship. A flash of gold and green eyes that made Buck feel like he was the only person in the world and Buck found himself swooning like a lovesick boy. That's how Buck knew he had it bad. Ezra took his breath away. He was the most intriguing, mysterious, elegant and dangerous young man Buck had ever known.

Buck leant in close, returning that smile for just a moment, just so Ezra would know how much he meant to Buck.

Ezra could see it clearly in Buck's eyes. He was no poker player, was dear Buck, and he wore his heart proudly on his sleeve. Of all the people in the world, Buck was the only one Ezra trusted, the only one he knew, inside and out. Ezra beamed another knee trembling smile at Buck. He had a friend at last, a friend who wanted nothing more than the pleasure of his company.

Chris saw them together and shook his head, amused. He'd never seen Buck so smitten. He glanced at Mary, who had come to stand beside him, and saw the little frown puckering her brows as she watched Ezra lean forward and rub Buck's sore shoulders.

"You should be happy for Ezra," Chris remarked. "He's found someone to care about him."

"Yes, but Buck -"

"Then you should be relieved, the town no longer needs to lock up its wives and daughters. At least not while Buck's like a lovesick cow."

"I just never thought Mr Wilmington was like that."

"Like Ezra?" Chris shook his head. "Nobody on this good earth is like Ezra. You think it's wrong for Buck and Ezra to be happy?"

"What if people see..."

"Two friends horsing around? What is it, Mary, you don't like Ezra's kind either?" He pushed himself off the wall. "Or are you worried that the town will have to lock up their husbands and sons now?"

She gave him a horrified look, and he shook his head, dismayed.

"Buck ain't like that. Sure, he'll chase anything in a skirt, but he's only ever loved one man before this. He never left that man's side and no matter how bad things became between them, he stayed more loyal than any friend, than any man had a right to expect. I think deep down he loves that man still."

Mary's eyes widened. "Who?" She had to ask.

"Me," Chris grinned and walked away with a swagger, feeling her eyes staring into his back.

ª

Buck was lying back on Ezra's pillows, attempting to blow smoke rings towards the ceiling. Ezra lay beside him, bare naked arse peeping out just above the rumpled sheet, his head resting on his folded arms. The late morning sun dappled across the pale skin of his back softly. He gave Buck a sly look, at odds with his cherubic appearance.

"What?"

"Let's stay here all day."

"All day?"

Those wicked green eyes again.

"Do you have anything better to do?"

Than stay here, all day, in Ezra's bed? No, Buck couldn't think of a single thing.

Buck stretched in the bed, letting the idea wash over him.

"Sinning just comes as natural to you as breathing, don't it," Buck teased affectionately.

"I was taught well. I'd broken all the seven deadly sins before I could grow a beard."

"I bet you had," Buck mused fondly. He ran a hand over the soft cream skin of Ezra's back again, loving the silky feel under his fingertips.

"Saints alive, boy, you're the only man I know who can work his way through all those seven deadly sins before breakfast." Buck was smiling, he was paying Ezra a compliment.

Ezra matched his grin, kissing a dark pink nipple lightly as he prowled over Buck.

"I can usually manage to break all ten commandments before lunch, too, on a good day."

"I know you can," Buck acknowledged happily. Ezra was built for sin, and he'd at last found an appreciative audience for his talents. Buck breathed out as Ezra coaxed him wickedly, slithering over him, flicking at him with his tongue, Buck wondering if he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew. In spite of having spent the last few months as an invalid, Ezra's appetites were more than a match for his own. Buck wasn't too concerned, though. If Ezra planned to kill him with pleasure, he was a willing lamb to the slaughter.

Ezra purred under Buck's reciprocal touch, wanting more. Grinning, he crawled over Buck's chest, kissing the skin where he found it, teasing one nipple with a tongue and watching it pucker before moving onto Buck's mouth. He felt Buck's erection press harder into his stomach and he twisted his hips, rubbing against Buck, making Buck moan and grab at his arse.

Yes! Ezra pushed back against Buck's hand, their mouths locked in hungry kisses, their bodies grazing against each other. Oh god, yes, Buck knew exactly what he wanted, fucking him with his hand while Ezra writhed all over that hard body and fucked Buck's mouth with his tongue and came quickly in warm waves of cresting pleasure. Buck's arms came around him and held him tight and Ezra never wanted to leave this room ever again.

Breathing fast he just looked into Buck's eyes for a moment, then kissed him again, long and slow, to show his gratitude.

Gun shots cracked through the leaden mists of desire. Two more shots followed.

"No," Ezra whimpered, collapsing against Buck's chest, sulking.

Another shot and Buck was gently rolling Ezra off him, scooting to the window and peering down into the street.

"Ah, hell," Buck swore softly and Ezra pressed his forehead into the empty cooling sheets in despair.

Buck was already in his trousers and boots when another shot rang out. He was strapping on his guns when a shot cracked through the wall. Damn, that was too close.

 

"So kind of you boys to join us," Chris drawled, grinning at their dishevelled appearance, Ezra's especially. He'd known damn well they'd had every intention of spending all day in bed together.

The boys scurried and ducked for cover as several hooligans on horseback wheeled around, firing wildly.

"What the hell is going on," Buck asked Chris, shouting across the gap between pillar and water trough.

"Couple of young idiots took it in their heads to try and rob the bank. Just walked right up in broad daylight, bold as brass."

"And now it's our job to detain the fools for the Judge."

"You got it," Chris grinned wryly.

Buck shook his head fondly. The old dog, he professed to yearn for the quiet life but nothing brought Chris alive like the smell of gunpowder and the sound of shots cracking into the wood they were sheltering behind.

Buck glanced across to Ezra, who seemed curiously distracted, staring up at a window in the hotel across the street. Vin followed Buck's gaze but could see nothing through the closed, curtained window and shook his head slightly to Chris.

"Ezra, stop day dreaming and start shooting," Chris snarled, ducking down as another bullet slammed into where his head had been a second or two before.

Ezra, shocked at the rebuke, stood up as Buck covered him, took aim and fired.

The young man racing down the street arched back on his horse then toppled over, bouncing along the ground as the spooked horse kicked him, trampling over him in its need to escape.

"Oh yeah, that one's dead," Buck announced, satisfied, patting Ezra's shoulder. Then he stopped, seeing Ezra's conflicted expression.

"I meant to wing him," was all Ezra said, quietly, still holding his gun.

Chris, Vin and JD stood, firing down the street at the retreating horsemen, but catching none in the dust and confusion.

Ezra holstered his gun, glancing at the windows in the hotel, trying to shake off the feeling.

"What?" asked Buck, unused to seeing Ezra so nervous and twitchy.

"Felt like we were being watched." He shrugged it off. "Probably nothing."

Buck nodded, making a mental note to ask Vin, later. Ezra would have these funny little moods that would just come on him, but it didn't hurt to double check with Vin, to see if he'd noticed anything at all, too.

Buck didn't like it, the idea that they were being drawn out for show, tested, for something that might be coming.

He shared his thoughts with Chris, worried that this might have been a trial run, but Chris dismissed him, pointing out the job had been too clumsy to have been anything more than a damn fool idea dreamed up over one too many beers on a hot, lazy afternoon.

Chris glanced up to see Ezra waiting for Buck outside the saloon, his white shirt still billowing untucked and rumpled around him. Ezra was wearing an annoyed and impatient expression but he was coming no closer as Chris, Buck, Nathan and Vin conferred over and inspected the body of the would be bank robber Ezra had managed to shoot in the back.

Chris shook his head. Ezra always had been a mite on the squeamish side when it came to death, he didn't know why. He let Nathan and Vin take the body away at last, glancing again at Ezra when Buck repeated Ezra's suspicions that this had been a trial run. Not much of a trial run, Chris thought, and he could see an attempted robbery in broad daylight serving no purpose, and he told Buck so, in no uncertain times.

Buck shrugged, said he was just passing on what Ezra had said, and then had walked across the road to Ezra and Ezra had brightened immediately. Buck must be good if he could take Ezra away from his card game, Chris mused, as he watched the two of them disappear inside the saloon, as thick as thieves.

Buck stopped off at the bar on the way up to Ezra's room. Inez had the bottle already for him on the counter. She'd seen the expression on Ezra's face as he'd gone up the stairs, the one that meant he was churning over something inside.

She held onto the bottle for a second before letting him have it.

"You better take good care of him, Senõr Buck," she warned him, and not for the first time.

"I'd never do anything else," Buck promised. He took the bottle and followed Ezra upstairs, finding his boy standing quietly by the window, watching the gaol across the road.

Buck set the bottle down with a sigh. Ezra was indeed out of sorts.

"Chris says there shouldn't be any trouble about the shooting," Buck offered.

"I shot him in the back."

"You were trying to wing him though, weren't you?"

"Doesn't much matter now, does it." Ezra shrugged off Buck's concern.

"It was an accident - and he was trying to rob the bank."

Ezra was watching Chris, still pacing uneasily down below.

"He didn't believe me, that it was a setup."

Buck exhaled again.

"You know Chris."

"He still doesn't trust me, I know. Has he never heard the phrase you can't con a con man? Something just..." Ezra shook his head and fell silent.

Something had spooked Ezra, but that something was going to be one of those secrets Buck would have to try and pry out of him, if he could at all. Ezra was a mystery to him, and Buck supposed it was one of Ezra's more alluring qualities. Not even Buck was sure everything Ezra had told him was the truth. It didn't bother Buck much, and he kept his own counsel on the boy who cried wolf every time Ezra sulked because no one believed him on the rare occasions he was being wholly honest.

Buck came forward and rested his hands on Ezra's shoulders, rubbing them softly. Forget about the shooting, the dead body, Chris, whatever it was that was bothering him. Buck ran a slow hand down through Ezra's hair, soothing him. He kissed the nape of Ezra's neck. Buck's arms wrapped around Ezra's waist, holding him in a loose embrace.

Another long slow kiss down the side of his throat reminded Ezra of why he was here, and why he was with Buck. Ezra guided Buck's hand down to feel his stirring erection. Buck's hand smoothed over the fine material, gratified to know he could arouse Ezra so easily, especially after everything Ezra had been through this last year. Ezra turned in his arms and their mouths met. Oh yes, Ezra wanted him, there was no mistaking that.

Distressed, green eyes bright with unshed emotion and clad in only his white shirt flowing free over tailored black trousers, Buck believed he'd never seen Ezra look so beautiful. Here was a young man, slightly out of his depth, desperate for any emotion he could grab hold of.

They fell onto the bed together in a fierce rutting, Ezra determined to prove his mastery over death. Buck knew what this was, he'd seen it with Chris, a wild reaction against guilt and mortality.

Much later, Buck crept out of bed, trying not to disturb a soundly sleeping and sated Ezra, taking a moment to just sit and watch his ruined beauty, before he pushed himself away, gathering up his clothes, dressing, and easing himself down the stairs to where the bar waited.

 

Chris leant against the bar beside Buck, giving his old friend an appraising look.

"Where's Ezra?"

Buck carried on drinking. "I left him asleep upstairs."

Chris grinned. "Tired him out, did you?"

Buck gave him a look that told Chris he wasn't in the mood for teasing, not where Ezra was concerned.

"Leave it be, Chris. In spite of what you might think, Ezra isn't used to shooting men in the back like that."

Chris nodded, sipping his beer.

"He alright?"

Buck and Chris shared a glance of long experience and memories.

Buck shifted his shoulders. "He's still young. You know Ezra, more of a lover than a fighter. I wouldn't want to corner the boy, but he doesn't go looking for trouble either, not like that." Buck considered his beer. "It's not sitting well with him."

Buck glanced up, following Chris' lead. Coming down the staircase was Ezra, dressed in his best working clothes. Ezra's face had that slightly bruised, just fucked to within an inch of his life look to it.

Chris tweaked down the neckerchief Buck had taken to wearing, catching sight of the matching bruise before Buck twisted away, annoyed, and he grinned, knowing exactly what Buck had been up to, to get those bruises.

It appeared Ezra was going to spend the whole night supplementing his income. He looked like he was out for blood, too, so there was no way Buck or Chris were going to play with him tonight. Not when Ezra was ruthlessly going to teach a few strangers foolish enough to try their luck just how cruel the cards could be. There was something about Ezra in his element, doing what he did best, without a trace of conscience, that was coldly beautiful, like a diamond. Crystal hard and clear, pretty to look at but sharp to the touch. This wasn't the real Ezra, but it was the face he chose to show to the world more often than not, it was the face he fell back on when he felt trapped or annoyed.

Buck turned back to the bar with Chris. The trick of dealing with Ezra was knowing when to fold and when to walk away from the table. Like tonight. Ezra could be as moody as Chris, in his own way. Buck sipped his beer. He must be a sucker for men who liked to keep him dancing.

"Leave it alone, Chris," Buck cut him off before he could even start. Ezra was gambling tonight. So what? He gambled most nights. Honeymoon wasn't over yet, not by a long shot. Hopefully by the time the saloon closed Ezra would be richer and happier, and in a mood to celebrate.

 

Ezra was on a winning hand and Chris was on his sixth beer when Nathan stumbled into the saloon, looking like he'd seen a ghost.

"Nathan?"

"The body, it's gone missing."

Chris stood. "The gang came back for it?"

"Must have. I'm sorry Chris, I had to leave it and go tend to Miss Sadie - she dropped a lamp."

"She okay?"

"The burns were bad, but they should heal. When I got back, the body was gone."

"This keeps up the undertaker's going to go out of business," Buck remarked, commenting on the habit for bodies to go missing in the town. "Hey, Chris, you don't think we've got a body snatcher around here, aside from Old Nate here."

Buck grinned, but Nathan wasn't amused. The constant remarks about his ghoulishness in using bodies from the undertakers for his anatomy studies were really starting to annoy him. How else was he supposed to learn?

"Had you started cutting up the body?" Chris asked, not really wanting to know.

"No."

"Maybe it got up and walked."

Chris and Nathan both gave Buck filthy looks, not appreciating his humour.

"I suppose we should go and look for this missing body," Chris agreed reluctantly.

Buck glanced back at Ezra.

"No, leave him to his game," Chris decided.

It didn't take more than three men to confirm that a body was indeed missing.

"He's gone alright," Chris declared, arms folded, surveying the empty trestle table.

"He was dead, right? Ezra shot him in the back, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he was dead," Nathan confirmed, annoyed at the implication that he couldn't tell the difference.

Chris was examining the door. It didn't look forced from the outside. He bade Buck to bring the lamp closer. In fact, the lock looked picked from the inside. There were the tell tale scratches in the brass he was used to seeing as a result of Ezra's work.

"You know what?" Chris decided. "I think Ezra might be right afterall. There's something strange going on around here."

 

Ezra was still gambling hard when they returned to the saloon, having failed to find any trace of their missing body.

Buck decided not to tell Ezra, not yet at least. Ezra was still obviously troubled by the shooting. It wasn't like Ezra had never killed a man in the line of duty before, or even in cold blood, but shooting a man in the back, that was different. As much as Ezra wailed about sleeping with a damn Yankee in jest, he did possess that peculiarly acute sense of honour that they bred deep into the bones of young southern gentlemen and shooting a man in the back just wasn't part of his code.

Ezra stayed up playing until long past normal closing hours. Buck kicked everyone out and still Ezra stayed at the table with his cards. Finally Buck took the cards from Ezra's hands and laid them down on the table.

"Come on," he murmured. "Let me get you drunk."

Green eyes flicked up and met his at last.

Ezra sighed and pushed back his chair.

"Come on," Buck cajoled, tilting his head towards the bar.

Ezra gave in and stood and let Buck nudge him towards his bar. In truth, unsettled as he was, he was deeply grateful Buck refused to let him be.

A deep glass of his best brandy later and his ever growing affection for Buck had warmed him right through. He curled his hands through Buck's, played with his clothes, ran his hands through dark hair, then finally quit flirting and kissed him.

Buck held him close and turned the kiss more serious, concerned for Ezra and aroused by him.

"I've always wondered," Buck breathed huskily, fingertips tracing the features on the face he adored so much, "What it would be like to make love to you on this bar of yours."

"Want to find out?" Ezra goaded, smiling, his face brushing against Buck's.

They kissed some more, quick and teasing, then longer and more intense, grabbing at each other, wanting more, the touch of their tongues coiling straight down to their groins.

Ezra unbuckled his guns and dropped them to the ground where he stood. Buck pushed off Ezra's bright coat and then his waist coat. The counter was just that bit too high to lift Ezra onto it so he just turned Ezra around, dropping his pants as Ezra was leaning braced across the bar, begging for Buck. He ran his hands down Ezra, told the boy how much he loved the sight of him, the feel of him. Then Buck was inside him grinding out how good Ezra felt. Ezra hung onto the bar tight and demanded Buck do him hard. Buck leant over him, one hand covering Ezra's on the bar, the other tight around his waist. His breath was ragged as he buried himself in Ezra over and over again, groaning as he spilled deep inside Ezra and Ezra came thickly in his hand. He slid back, turned Ezra round to face him and they kissed slowly. It didn't take much convincing to get Ezra upstairs and out of the rest of his clothes.

 

Buck turned over in half sleep and snuggled up against Ezra, brushing his shoulder with a lazy kiss and draping an arm over his waist.

Ezra stirred from instinct but Buck soothed him with a sweet "Hush now, Darlin'," and an entreaty for Ezra to go back to sleep, which, much to Buck's surprise, Ezra did. He waited quietly as Ezra's breathing relaxed as he sank back into sleep.

Ezra was usually a light and fretful sleeper, prone to twitching with unspoken nightmares that only laudanum could give him a measure of escape from. Lately though, since Buck had been staying through the night he'd seen Ezra settle down and sleep without the use of any opiates. Buck liked to think he gave Ezra some comfort, but maybe Ezra just liked a warm bed.

Buck rested on his pillow, listening to the sounds of Ezra sleeping, wondering what kept Ezra awake at nights, then thinking it better if he didn't know,

In truth, he knew very little about Ezra: where he was from, who he'd been, even his name - Chris had turned up several aliases in a small investigation into the lad after he'd first joined them, Chris never liking an unknown quality.

What Buck did know was that Ezra was his friend and the boy had a good heart, deep down. Buck looked upon it as his duty to prevent life from making Ezra so hard that he no longer felt his good heart.

Teaching JD to be a man, that job was just about done. Keeping Ezra on the right path - that was a job for life. It was a vocation Buck was happy to accept, sensing great things in Ezra. Great things that might outshine all their legacies, if only he could keep the bitterness at bay. He'd lost Chris, letting his dark horses run wild for too many years. He wasn't about to give up on Ezra, not when Ezra had so much to give - just the light in his eyes when he smiled at Buck was enough. That was his reward, to see Ezra smile, after everything he'd endured so far.

He kissed Ezra's temple softly and let the boy sleep, hoping his dreams were of happier times.

 

It was late when they woke, yet still too early for the first customers of the saloon, bar JD and Nathan having breakfast in the corner.

Halfway down the stairs Buck turned on the step below Ezra and fussed with his tie, making sure it sat just so, making Ezra grizzle at Buck's constant mothering, which made JD chuckle in the corner.

Ignoring JD and Ezra, even, Buck leant in and kissed Ezra full on the lips. Ezra spluttered for a moment then wrapped his arms around Buck, making it last.

Nathan gave JD a speculative look and JD blushed and looked away.

Inez finally threw down the cloth she'd been polishing the bar with and demanded: "Enough. Always with the making love."

Buck turned and grinned at her. "You had your chance, Darlin'," he teased.

Inez glared daggers at him.

"Don't antagonise her or she'll spit in your eggs - again." Ezra grinned, walking down the rest of the stairs, leaving Buck to gauge whether Inez had - or not. Judging by her look - he chose to follow Ezra down the stairs, chastened.

They settled down at the table with their friends, Buck still being openly affectionate in ways he'd never be if Chris or Vin were in the room. He brought over Ezra his coffee, as solicitous as any new beau.

Nathan laughed, leaning close. "Ezra, you blushing or is that a rash?" He leant closer, examining the red flush that crept up Ezra's throat and cheeks. "Buck, I think you need to shave more often or be more gentle with the boy."

Ezra squirmed and blushed deeper and JD pretended a deep interest in his mashed potatoes.

Buck recognised the signs of Ezra about to grow tetchy and he eased Nathan away from teasing Ezra.

"So, you heard any more about that body?" Nathan asked Buck, getting the hint to drop it.

"Body?" Ezra suddenly became alert again.

Missing Buck's shake of his head, Nathan elaborated. "That guy you shot yesterday - "

"Nathan!" Buck cut him off.

Ezra rocked back, glaring at Buck.

"What about the body? What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing important. Figured you were upset enough as it was."

"Upset?" JD asked, not taking Ezra for a complete sissy. "Cause you shot him in the back?'

"I was trying to wing him," Ezra reiterated moodily.

"Ain't like you to miss, Ezra," Nathan chimed in, too busy teasing to notice all the colour had drained out of Ezra's face.

Ezra had always prided himself on his marksmanship, and now it was slipping from his fingers like water. Since the hanging, things that had once come as naturally to him as breathing had become inexplicably difficult. He covered as much as he could with guile and deflection, but surely, sometime soon his friends would notice he'd lost the few skills that made him valuable to them. And what then, when he was of no more use to them?

Buck's hand was on his arm.

"Don't worry, Chris will look after it," he reassured, mistaking the cause of Ezra's concern.

Ezra nodded, falling into the lie, letting it cover his real fears.

Chris stalked in and asked Nathan directly if he'd found his missing body yet, irritated that such a thing could happen not once but twice under his jurisdiction.

"Missing body?" Ezra piped up, alarmed, but nobody paid him any mind.

"Well it can't have gotten up and walked out the front door by itself." Chris growled.

Nathan nodded in agreement. "I've seen men come back from the dead, but Ezra shot him clean through the heart - no way was he coming back from that."

Ezra paled as his marksmanship was called into account again. He wiped his mouth and set his napkin down.

"Am I to understand that you gentleman have misplaced another dead body?"

Chris gave him a quick and aggravated look. Ezra always managed to get under his skin, usually without even trying.

Ezra wasn't to be put off by Chris, instead, he was putting two and two together.

"That's where you all disappeared off to last night - to go look for your missing body."

He turned hurt and accusing eyes to Buck.

"We didn't want to upset you," Buck offered softly.

"Well, I'm upset. Bad enough I killed the man but now you've gone and lost him –"

"Ezra," Chris warned, not wanting to bother with how Ezra might feel about the situation.

"If the gang did indeed take the body, they'll be long gone by now." Ezra underlined the bottom line for them. It was over and done, it was only Chris' ego that required a solution to the mystery.

"He's right, you know," Buck chimed in, negotiating a settlement. "There's nothing more to be done. Let it be." But Buck could see Chris wasn't going to let it be, not until he figured out what had happened and fetched the body back, because his professional pride was involved.

Once upon a time Chris would have walked away, uncaring. The town didn't pay for him to protect dead men, after all, but he'd grown to like the respect his role as peacekeeper afforded him, and there was no way he was going to let it be said that not even the dead were safe in this town.

Chris and Vin rode out that morning, but Ezra was right, there was no trace of the missing body or which way the men might have taken it, even with Vin's skilled eyes. By noon they'd turned back to town, Chris lounging in the sun at the front of his gaol and Vin in the saloon, nursing the small dent to his reputation of a tracker of some skill, not even being able to find a dead man. He felt the laughter in the bar was somehow being directed at himself, even though he knew it wasn’t.

Chris rose as Mary passed, nodding to her as they paused to exchange awkward pleasantries. Chris watched Mary shoot cold daggered looks towards Ezra as he walked along the street from the bank to his saloon.

"Is Ezra on your list of undesirable persons now?" Chris asked, leaning on the railing beside her.

"It's his saloon," Mary tried to disagree.

"Ezra runs the best saloon in town, and everybody knows it. You want this to be a dry town now, Mary?"

She gave him a shrewish look. "What if I did? You must admit that saloon of his attracts a bad element into town."

"I think some of the other businesses might object to prohibition. Ezra might object to that. This is his town now, as much as it is yours."

Her expression grew darker. "Sometimes I wonder why I talked my father into letting you all stay."

Chris just leant on the railing.

"Town's getting bigger, more prosperous. You reckon we've outstayed our welcome." He flicked her a look. "Or are you just worried that more of Ezra's kind will move into town? Gamblers, gunslingers, sodomites." He could see they were all being tarred by the same brush.

"You still worried about what I said about me and Buck? Hell, we were just kids. Boys do that sort of thing."

Mary gave him a pursed look that said she thought better men didn't, nor did they frolic with whores or have to be dragged back to town so drunk they had to be slung over their horse.

"Don't you think Ezra has a right to his own life?"

"I don't know - does he have to be so...open about it?" Mary was still glaring at the saloon coldly.

Chris straightened, giving her a considering look. Alright, he'd tell Ezra to keep his head down, until Mary was feeling more charitable.

The afternoon shadows lengthened, covering the dusty main street with the beginnings of dusk.

Buck was still across in the gaol with Chris, talking over things, god only knew what. Old business, new business, it made no difference to Ezra. Eventually, Chris would release Buck from his duties and he'd belong to solely Ezra again. In the meantime, Ezra watched his saloon, lord of all he surveyed. God, he loved this place. It was the worst, the shabbiest, the dingiest saloon he'd ever seen and he loved every rotted plank and rusty nail because it was his. It belonged to him now lock stock and barrel and hard won and he had his friends here and his life was good.

Ezra leant back against the bar, Vin beside him, feeling the old comfort of the familiar. His eyes narrowed for a moment, catching sight of someone he thought - no, surely not. It must have been a trick of the light.

"Ezra?" Vin asked, noting his reaction.

"It's nothing," Ezra fobbed off Vin's inquiry gently. "Just thought I saw a ghost, that's all."

"Ez, you've gone all pale," Vin was studying him closely, too closely.

"I assure you I'm in the pink of health, Mr Tanner, but I thank you for your concern," he drawled. He raised his glass to his lips, in mock salute, but never quite made it.

Ezra's hand began to tremble uncontrollably. The glass he held slipped through his fingers, caught by Vin before it smashed to the floor.

"Good catch," Ezra smiled, then he fell backwards, insensible, twitching on the ground.

"Ezra? Ezra!" Vin dropped by his side, trying to hold him still.

 

Buck burst into Ezra's room and found Ezra laid out in the bed and Vin sitting beside him, leaning over him.

"What the hell happened?"

"He just fell," Vin tried to explain. He could see Buck's anger, and he understood it. He stood up and let Buck take his pace by Ezra's side.

"He was just having a drink, then he fell down and started having a fit," Vin tried again.

"Ez, Ezra," Buck tried but Ezra would not be roused, not until Nathan arrived with his smelling salts and even then Ezra was groggy.

Buck looked to Nathan.

"Is he ill?"

"There's no fever."

Buck caught Nathan's look.

"He wasn't drunk," he insisted.

Nathan had to agree. Ezra had been drinking, but he didn't smell like he'd been drinking hard. Ezra murmured and twitched under Nathan's touch and Nathan left him alone, remembering all too clearly the last time he'd tended Ezra when he'd been semi conscious with fever. He'd said things, hateful things, not recognising Nathan, echoing times past. Nathan didn't want Buck to hear Ezra tell him to keep his filthy black hands off him. He didn't know why, but he wanted to spare Buck from hearing such ugly things from Ezra's mouth. Maybe he knew Ezra didn't mean it any more. But once, he had.

Nathan rose. "There's nothing more I can do for him tonight. Let him rest. It was probably nothing."

Buck wanted so badly to believe that. Damn, Ezra had been acting funny for days, and now this. Well, he knew life with Ezra was never going to be boring.

Nathan shrugged. "I really don't know, Buck. He seemed fine to me, last time I checked him over."

Vin hung his head, knowing he had a part in this, in Ezra's ongoing convalescence.

"I'm sorry, Buck."

"What did you do?" Buck accused.

"Nothing. He seemed fine. He was talking and laughing, then he just fell, Buck."

"You didn't say anything to upset him?"

"No!" Vin resented the implication.

"Take it outside, gentlemen, please," Nathan implored. "Ezra needs his rest. Let him sleep," Nathan insisted, shooing them all out. All except Buck who would not be moved. He met Buck's eyes. "I'll watch over him for a bit."

Buck nodded, marching Vin outside onto the landing.

Vin shook him off angrily. "I didn't touch him," Vin knew the real cause of Buck's anger. "I didn't say nothin', neither. We were just talkin', then he started fittin'. It came on real sudden. There was nothing I could do, 'cept get him up here and put him to bed."

"Thanks," Buck offered belatedly.

Vin nodded, their disagreement settled. "I'm real sorry, Buck," Vin offered again.

Buck shook his head. No use in crying over spilt milk now. He watched Vin, and then finally Nathan go back down the stairs, leaving him alone with Ezra for another night.

Buck settled down in a chair beside Ezra, picked up the book Ezra had been reading and flipped to the front page.

Damn, if he hadn't gotten used to this, sitting beside Ezra's bed, wondering if the boy was going to make it through til morning. He remembered the first time, that time Ezra had been shot and kicked and beaten halfway to hell and back by some people he must have owed money to.

That shot should have killed Ezra that day, but all his fine clothes, the layers of silk to be precise, had slowed the bullet so it had only burrowed itself into him, not torn through him like a hot metal fist.

Ezra had been lucky. He'd always been lucky. Even now, he should be dead. If that rope hadn't been weighted for a man a good few inches taller, he would have been.

Buck glanced up from the book he was reading as the lamp light flickered, but it was just an impurity in the flame. Ezra was still sleeping, his face, his whole body at rest. His shirt collar was open at his throat, opened by Nathan, probably, or Vin, searching for a pulse. Ezra's chest rose and fell softly. He was lost to the world of the waking for now. He looked so languidly beautiful, so at peace, but it was a false peace. Ezra was still haunted by his past actions. Buck reached out and brushed a strand of auburn hair back from Ezra's forehead. Stupid kid. Damn, he should have kept a better eye on Ezra. Ezra got himself into more trouble than JD could ever imagine. Buck traced his fingers down Ezra's jawline, down his throat, feeling the pulse echo beneath his fingertips. Beautiful, beautiful boy. So troubled, so sweet, so goddamn - when he walked he was like molten, liquid sin. He was temptation incarnate, it was his stock in trade. His beautiful, beautiful boy. People were drawn to Ezra and they burned in his flame. Buck was no different, he liked to feel the heat under his fingertips.

Buck sat back and just watched Ezra sleep his dreamless sleep. Buck would never grow tired of watching him. Finally Buck laid his book aside and crawled onto the bed with Ezra.

"You don't mind, do you, Darlin’?" he asked of his unconscious lover.

He snuggled against Ezra, slipping his hand inside Ezra's shirt and feeling his heart beat, counting each one. Slowly the beats lulled him to sleep, listening to his lover dream.

 

 

Ezra was sitting out in his garden. He hadn't been out here in a while, yet it was still his sanctuary. He remembered long mornings just sitting here, not so long ago, unable to speak or move, waiting to die. He turned the cards over in his hands. They weren't trembling now.

Buck's hand tousled through his hair.

"You've been indoors too much," Buck scolded gently. "It's grown dark again." He was still playing with the auburn strands, missing the burnished copper tones it had sported when Ezra had sat in his garden, day after day.

Buck dragged up a chair and sat down beside him.

"You okay?"

"I don't know," Ezra admitted.

"I worry about you, you know."

Ezra flicked him a look.

Buck sighed. Ezra never took kind words at face value.

"I'm sorry, Ezra."

Ezra flipped the card in his hand over.

"My fault, trying to be a hero." He laughed softly.

Buck put a hand on his shoulder.

"You'll get over this," Buck tried to reassure.

"What if I don't?"

"You will," Buck insisted.

Ezra flipped over another card, the queen of spades, reading his fortune, scowling at it slightly.

"I love you," Buck offered up quietly to the sky and the trees as witnesses, as much as to Ezra.

Ezra said nothing. He just kind of leant over into Buck's shoulder and Buck held him there, dropping kisses on the top of his head and rubbing up and down his back.

ª

Chris, Buck and Vin were sitting back in a lazy game of cards, playing more to pass the time than anything else, none of them having Ezra's skill and flourish with the deck. They were smoking and drinking and gossiping the way men do, swapping tall and taller stories, passing on what news they had heard, running through the recent obituaries of a couple of men they'd known.

"Ezra ain't playing tonight," Chris observed through a haze of smoke.

"He still poorly?" Vin asked, concern lining his eyes. Chris saw it and bit down harder on his cigar. He hated to be reminded of history.

Buck shrugged, saying nothing. Who really knew with Ezra? Certainly not Buck.

"I think he might be going over the bookwork at one of the hotels," Buck offered. Ezra now owned a hotel at either end of town.

"Taking care of business," Chris grinned, teasing, not at all bothered by the vicious look Buck shot back at him. Chris could take anything Buck could dish out in return and they both knew it.

"Our Ezra, the respectable businessman," Vin mused, shaking his head fondly.

"Yeah, who'd have thought?" Chris grinned again, rearranging the cards in his hand.

Buck kept quiet. They didn't need to know Ezra had just swapped the dismally low stakes gambling to be had in the saloon for the considerably higher stakes of acquiring businesses, investments, partnerships in some truly outlandish sounding enterprises and sinking more money than Buck could think of without sweating in the stock markets. More often than not Buck would find Ezra in his room, long after the saloon had closed, mulling over his private ledgers, playing his money with nerves of steel. Buck didn't like to think of it, and he kept aside the little cash bonuses that Ezra pushed towards him, for his help in managing Ezra's growing little empire, as an emergency fund should Ezra's luck turn south again.

Ezra was indeed taking care of business, watching over the bank that held Buck's tiny nest egg from the shadows, his cheroot long since abandoned, lest it give his position away. His highly tuned swindler's sense screamed that something wasn't quite right, that something was up. It was twitching along his nerves, and, carefully dismissing his businesses as targets, after having alerted his staff to report anyone acting what they might consider suspiciously, himself excluded, naturally, he'd settled on the bank that had suffered an attempted robbery several days ago.

Something was afoot, he could feel it, and the loitering wisps of shadows gave form and substance to his fancies. Soft murmurs, the faint jingle of equipment, the heady scent of gunpowder all alerted him to the fact that another robbery was about to be attempted. Unable to alert his fellow peacekeepers without giving himself away, he slipped his Remington from his holster and softly tested the familiar weight of the gun in his hand. There'd be no missing tonight.

A muffled, sandbagged explosion from behind the bank rolled out into the main street, startling people from their business, sending them staggering into the streets as Ezra imagined the heavy money bags, his money, being shoved into saddlebags. The image of the money, its cool weight and smell came to him so strongly he could almost taste it.

"Going somewhere?" he drawled lazily, gliding from his hiding place to block the picked open doorway, Remington resting easily in his hand. His gold tooth caught the moonlight as he flashed a grin to his shadowy rivals, admiring their work. A heavy fist struck out from the darkness and sent him sprawling.

"Now that just ain't gentlemanly," Ezra complained, wiping the blood from his mouth as he sprang back up. "Whatever happened to honour among thieves?"

"You tell me," Chris demanded harshly from behind Ezra, as unsure now as he had been a moment ago as to whether Ezra was helping or hindering the bandits.

Ezra ignored him, running after the rapidly retreating mob with Chris, Vin, Buck and JD behind him.

Chris wasn't entirely mistaken, though. Ezra had seen the handiwork and recognised the job as easily as a signature. He knew damn well who was making off with Buck's money as he aimed carefully and fired.

Ezra's bullet went wild, sailing over their heads with a whistle, but it brought them to a stop.

"You missed," Chris observed.

"Meant to." Ezra answered, distracted.

He holstered a gun and walked up to the shortest of the thieves while his friends saw to the rest of the gang.

The thief slapped him hard and tried to break away but Ezra would have none of it, slapping them down just as hard onto the ground and standing over them, ready to fight again. Outraged looks flashed between Ezra and his captive and it didn't take much more for the boys to realise Ezra and this thief had a history. Nor were they the slightest bit surprised. No, that wasn't what surprised them. It was when they dragged the ring leader into the gaol and discovered under lamplight that their prisoner was a woman, that's what surprised them.

"Amanda," Ezra murmured, acknowledging her by name.

She rose from the cell bunk like a goddess, slinking to the bars, all feline grace.

"Ezra, my dear boy, all grown up. And so handsome, too."

Ezra blushed a little.

"Come here," she coaxed. "I've missed you so much."

He came close, she hooked a finger in his waistcoat and pulled him closer, kissing him gently on the lips.

"They do know each other," Chris remarked to Buck, smirking.

Buck sulked, watching the kiss go on and on, far longer than was proper and decent, especially in a gaol.

Chris finally pulled Ezra away from the bars, admonishing him with a stern "Enough," his amusement quickly replaced by annoyance, still not sure on which side of the bars he should be keeping Ezra.

"Ezra didn't have no part in this," Buck defended, knowing exactly what Chris was thinking.

"No," Ezra rebutted, dusting down his coating from the manhandling he'd received. "I told you there was something in the works, but none of you would listen to me. You forget that it was my money as well that they were attempting to appropriate."

"If you knew the bank was going to be robbed, why didn't you say anything?" Chris wanted to know.

"Would you have believed me? Especially after I admitted to knowing the would be felons?" Ezra drawled in reply, bristling under Chris' suspicion and interrogation as always.

"You knew?" Amanda accused.

Ezra shrugged. "I saw you show up in town. I kept my head down, kept my eye on you. I knew you'd go for the juiciest plumb in town."

"You didn't say a word." It was Chris' turn for accusations.

"Well, no. There was only my word for it, and we know how much you value that. And if, in the unlikely circumstance that you actually believed me, you'd only stake out the bank and scare her off, sending her to the next available target, like the safe in my hotel."

"So you let them rob the bank."

"I watched them and I helped apprehend them, red handed."

Chris leant forward. "How do we know you weren't in on it?"

"Because they didn't get away." Ezra met Chris' eyes, defiant.

"You set me up." Amanda accused, furious.

"Don't be cross, Darlin'. I owed you one," Ezra reminded cheerfully.

"Are you still carrying a grudge after all these years, Ezra," she tsked.

"You left me holding the bag. I trusted you. You were closer than a sister to me and you set me up," he accused, hurt.

Chris and Vin exchanged a knowing look. She was like a sister to him. That explained it.

"I'm sorry," Amanda pouted.

"Are you? I thought you were teaching me another valuable lesson about honour amongst thieves, the sort of lesson my mother is so good at dispensing."

"No, Ezra, I never meant - I ran into - I ran into my own trouble. I'm sorry."

He gazed at her, willing to forgive her. Ezra drew back from the bars.

"How much for bail?" He looked directly at Chris.

"Bail?"

"Yes, bail. How much?" Ezra wasn't joking.

"She's a thief."

Ezra turned his appeal to Buck. "Three hundred do?"

"You vouch for her?"

"I give you my word."

Chris was about to say something but thought better of it, catching a look from Buck. He got down the keys from their nail on the wall.

"Well, alright. It's your money, Ezra," he warned, tossing the keys to him.

"Are you sure you want to vouch for her, Ezra?" Buck asked again.

"It's my money."

"You really own a hotel now?" Amanda's eyes sparkled through the bars.

"Two. Ezra's becoming quite the pillar of society," Chris taunted, his sarcasm dripping on the word pillar, letting everyone know he was thinking Ezra deserved a pillory rather than a pillar.

Ezra ignored him. "I'm trying to go straight. God knows why but there it is. Please don't mess things up for me here, Amanda. If you skip bail I'll look like an accessory."

"I don't want to go to gaol."

"I'll represent you." He saw her look. "I didn't ask you to come to my town," he reminded.

"You could have let me go."

He shook his head slowly and she pouted further.

"Straight?" she asked again, unable to believe it.

"Think of it as a stepping stone to a higher level of respectability," he murmured. His eyes gleamed for a moment and Amanda caught that gleam.

Chris saw the sly look and knew, damn it, he knew Ezra was playing an angle. He always was. Ezra just couldn't help himself.

Chris leant back against the wall, watching. If Ezra was in on this, there was no point in keeping his partner behind bars, not until he figured out what the two of them were up to.

 

Grudgingly released from the cell by Chris, with yet another muttered warning to Ezra, Amanda flounced out of the gaol with Ezra by her side, just like old times, watched with awe and suspicions by Ezra's associates.

Amanda linked her arm through his.

"So, a businessman now. Is this respectability?"

"No, not yet, but I'm still young."

"Ezra, what are you planning?"

"Great wealth, a large business stake and a reputation as a lawman."

Amanda stopped, beaming widely at him, knowing exactly what he was up to now.

"Politics! My dear, you'd be perfect."

He tilted his head back towards the gaol. "They all still think I'm a small town flim flam man."

"And what politician isn't. Don't listen to them, Ezra. You're well on your way."

"I hope so. I never thought it would be so hard, working for a living, trying to amass my fortune by mostly legitimate means." He pressed her arm. "Please behave - I mean it - they don't trust me. Anything you do will be pinned on me."

"So you're sacrificing me to your new respectability?"

Ezra was torn. "No. I told you, I can defend you at the trial. I know the judge."

"And he knows you," she reminded.

"Trust me," he urged, smiling again, projecting confidence.

"So you're a lawyer as well as a lawman now? Is this true? You've changed sides? Or are you trying to straddle both? You'd make a much better lawyer than a lawman."

"Now don't you go starting on me, too," he sighed, irritated.

Amanda smiled. "It's true then."

"I'm trying. These men mean a lot to me."

"You want to prove yourself worthy of their company."

Ezra glanced away, not willing to admit anything.

"Your mother doesn't approve," Amanda needled.

"No, she doesn't," Ezra agreed. "But you know Mother, everything has to be fast and grand for her. She bores easily. She doesn't understand that little things can grow. She doesn't see the potential here." Ezra made a grand sweeping gesture, proud of his town.

"Opportunities for you."

"Well, yes. It might be slow and hard work but I'm building something here, something from the ground up, with a solid foundation. I'm a rich man, Amanda. Not obscenely rich, but by this town's standards, I'm a man of substance, and it's no trick of the light."

"You have gone straight," she teased. "Sacrifice, hard work - can this be my Ezra?" She brushed his cheek. "But still the dreamer."

"I will make something of myself. I want to be more than just a nuisance in people's lives."

"You're not a nuisance, Ezra." Her eyes grew sad. "Never that. Didn't I teach you - you can never trick an honest man. People want to be cheated. You're teaching them a valuable lesson in greed."

"I'm tired of being run out of town."

Amanda sighed. "My little boy is growing up, growing serious," she teased. "Tell me, who has inspired this sudden streak of goodness."

"No one," Ezra mumbled.

"You can't con a con, Ezra. I can see it in your eyes. There is someone here, someone you want to impress. I'll find out, you know."

"Amanda," he complained.

"Don't spoil what little fun is available to a girl in this town. I intend to find out all the gossip to be had." And he knew that was no idle threat. Ezra was beginning to regret bailing her out already.

 

 

"You're a friend of Ezra's?" Mary regarded her visitor curiously, and now with some suspicion. A woman who dressed so finely, this far west, and claimed friendship with Ezra. There had to be something wrong here.

Amanda played absently with the handle of her folded parasol, surveying Mary's office with a practiced eye.

"And why do I feel you don't take kindly to Ezra?" Amanda asked, her voice sweet but hiding a hardness that Mary caught.

Mary straightened from her work, wiping her hands down the front of her apron.

"Ezra's a liar and a thief, he's always playing some scheme or another."

"But surely he's done a lot of good for this town."

"You know what they say, once a thief," Mary dismissed the notion. "If he gave you a gift, you could never be sure he came by it honestly."

"And that matters?"

"Of course it matters."

Amanda merely shrugged.

"You don't think it's possible for someone to have a change of heart?"

Mary shot off a look that doubted the existence of an actual beating heart in Ezra.

Amanda shrugged again. "I was under the impression that Ezra had made friends here, that he wanted to do right by them, that there was someone here he wanted to impress."

"You mean Mr Wilmington? He's hardly one to inspire greatness."

"Wilmington, he's the one they call Buck, right?"

"Yes, Buck Wilmington. He's as much a rogue as - well, no wonder they get on well together."

Amanda noted the name and the character reference, and wondered if there were any of the seven Mary actually liked.

"Why on earth did you hire them to protect this town if you think so poorly of them?" Amanda pressed.

Mary stopped arranging the moveable type entirely. "Mr Larabee," and her eyes lit up at the name. Gotcha, Amanda smirked to herself.

"By reputation he's a good man to have in a fight," Mary continued happily. Oh yes, so that was Mary's interest.

"Both he and Mr Tanner," Oh yes, better and better, two of the men had caught Mary's interest. "They've done a lot for this town."

So, the rest were just the price Mary had to pay for her two heroes.

Amanda placed her coin down carefully on Mary's desk and picked up her copy of the newspaper.

"Thankyou," Amanda smiled her most feline smile. "You've been most helpful."

Mary watched her go, not liking either Amanda or her attitude. There was just something about her that Mary didn't trust, even if she wasn't a proclaimed friend of Ezra's.

ª

Ezra pulled her corset in tight with expert hands and tied it off. He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder before draping the string of pearls around her throat and fastening the fiddly clasp, watching the beads warm and begin to glow against her skin.

"Why are you here, Amanda," he asked quietly, his arms encircling her waist in a loose embrace, watching their reflections in the mirror.

"Just travelling through," she smiled.

"No." His eyes never left hers in the mirror as his cheek stroked hers, and his fingers crept down slowly from her hip, making her exhale softly.

"Why are you here, in my town?" he asked again.

"Because I missed you?"

"How nice," Ezra purred, making her gasp as he teased her, kissing her throat slowly before he returned his gaze to the mirror, silken menace in his tone.

"This is my town, Amanda. Don't ruin it for me here. I won't forgive that."

"Why, Ezra, are you warning me off?"

"A very friendly warning." He kissed her throat just above the pulse point, trailing up to her earlobe.

"Uh uh," she warned fondly before he could kiss away her earring. "I taught you that, remember."

"I remember everything you taught me." Ezra smiled, a light yet wicked smile. "Now promise to be a good girl while you're here."

"I promise," she vowed to their reflections.

 

They came down the steps together, dressed for dinner, arms linked, looking very much more than brother and sister.

Buck and Chris, both waiting below to escort Ezra and his old friend to dinner, drew an involuntarily breath when they saw her. Buck particularly, and Amanda smiled when she saw that she'd set his pulse racing. She gently disengaged herself from Ezra and wafted over to Buck, all lace, silk, pearls and perfume, fluttering up against him and linking her arm through his.

Chris caught Ezra's souring and darking mood and knew a storm was brewing. This woman was trouble. Chris had known it the moment he'd set eyes on her, and he ought to, he'd known enough trouble in his time.

Amanda and Buck swept up to their table, arranged especially for them in the better dining room of Ezra's two hotels. Ezra trailed after them but Buck was already helping Amanda to her seat and she was cooing her thanks to him and old Buck, Buck was just lapping it up like the big dumb dog that he was. Ezra scowled further, relegated to sitting opposite Amanda and Chris leant back in his seat, watching the scene play out, as much amused as he was pricked by the growing aggravation of Ezra, feeling for Ezra’s situation. Seems like there was no honour amongst thieves after all, as Amanda flirted and played with Buck, and Buck barely spared Ezra a glance.

ª

Ezra tried his best to be churlish the next day, but Amanda knew how to tickle pieces of information out of him. Over the course of a very late breakfast, followed by an even later lunch she had managed to winkle the admission from Ezra that he did indeed have feelings for Buck.

Amanda didn't really need to hear his confession, his glares and abruptness had been enough to confirm everything that had been whispered about Ezra, and more so. She just wanted to see him admit it, out loud, to her, to witness his heated embarrassment, to see the vulnerability in his eyes as he entrusted his most precious secret to her.

"Is he rich?" she pressed.

Ezra shook his head.

"So it is love, then."

She watched him wince.

"Ezra," she reached over their table, caressing his cheek and making him look at her.

"Don't ever be ashamed of falling in love. Life is too short to live it without joy. Is he good to you?"

She could see in his eyes that Buck was. She'd never seen Ezra this secretive or protective of anyone before. Could it really be that Ezra had given his heart away at last?

Fretting over his admission, Ezra was studying her intently, trying to guess as to how she was going to use this information when he saw her eyes narrow suddenly and a brief shake of her head at somebody behind him.

Ezra stood and turned, catching only a glimpse of the man retreating quickly through the hotel doors. Just that fleeting glance was enough to trigger the briefest flash of forgotten memory.

"Was that...?" Ezra murmured, dismissing the possibility before he could form the question properly, thrown by that memory. "Amanda," he asked, beginning absently then growing more suspicious. "What's going on? What are you up?"

"Nothing, darling Ezra," she flashed her smile at him. "I promised you I'd be a good girl. I would never -" but she never had to make good on her promise as Ezra fell to the floor shaking again.

 

Ezra wasn't in the saloon, lounging behind his usual table, nor was he in his room. Conscience pricked, followed by a fast welling stream of rising jealousy, Buck headed down the street, determined to find his missing friend.

Buck found Ezra at last, curled fast asleep on the chaise lounge in the foyer of his hotel, his head nestled in Amanda's lap. She was stroking his hair tenderly and Buck suddenly saw he wasn't the only person in the world who loved Ezra, and strangely, he didn't mind sharing all that much.

She glanced up at his approach and gave a sweetly sad smile, pressing a finger to her lips.

She kept stroking his hair softly, sorrowfully.

"He had some sort of fit. It was terrible, I had to hold him down," she answered Buck's look of concern.

"We were up all night talking," she explained quietly by way of explanation of where Ezra had vanished to.

Buck nodded. He supposed they had a lot of catching up to do.

"What happened to him?" She asked, tracing the rope burn that curved up from under Ezra's chin to his ears ear like a wicked smile. "You never mentioned this," she accused, her voice soft but her eyes hard, fiercely protective.

"I didn't think it was my place to say. Did Ezra tell you?"

She shook her head.

Buck shifted on his feet nervously.

"It wasn't for anything he did that Ezra got hung. You see, Vin was wanted for murder, sentenced to hang. Ezra contrived to get himself hung in Vin's place."

"Why? Did he love this Vin?"

"He imagined he did at the time, yes."

She nodded. So typical of Ezra. She smiled down at him. "He always did have the soul of a poet, over fond of the grand gesture." She met Buck's eyes again.

"Which one is Vin?"

"I'll introduce you properly later. It wasn't Vin's fault. He didn't have an inkling what Ezra planned to do." Buck added, seeing that fierce protective streak burn up in her eyes.

She saw the memory of it still bitter in Buck's eyes.

Buck drew up the matching footstool and sat down, defeated. "I thought we'd lost him. He was poorly for a long time after. We thought he'd end up spending the rest of his life as a simpleton. When he came back to us - I thought all our prayers had been answered."

It hadn't been just the hanging. Weakened, Ezra had succumbed to a fever, and they'd come very close to losing him. Nathan had long suspected the fever, not the hanging, was the source of Ezra's problems.

"You've been looking after him?"

"Somebody has to."

They shared a smile over Ezra, sensing a common bond.

 

 

Ezra was resting in Buck's bed, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, the blinds were down and Nathan was taking his pulse, listening to his heart and examining his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mr Wilmington. Looks like I am still in the unenviable position of being a millstone around your neck," Ezra drawled as Nathan gently held his wrist between his fingers.

"No such thing, Ezra," Buck remarked softly, leaning against the wall. "I love you for better or worse, that's just the way it is."

Nathan felt Ezra's heart leap. He stared up at Buck as Ezra twisted his head towards Buck on the pillow, frowning deeply.

"Don't play with me, Buck. Please, don't play with me."

"I'm not," Buck spoke softly, huskily, his eyes liquid. "You're my friend and I love you. It ain't perfect, we ain't perfect, but I love the way you make me happy when we're together, I love the way you make me laugh. I love the way you feel against me. I love the quickness of your mind. I love the good heart you try to keep hidden. I love the sound of your voice and the softness of your skin. I love the colour of your eyes and the way you can be so still at times, like a pool of water. I love you for the loyalty and friendship you've given me, because I know it's not an easy thing for you. I want you to know that you can trust me, and that I do care about you. Whatever's wrong with you, it's wrong because you were willing to give up your life for a friend. How can I hate you for that? What sort of a man would I be if I blamed you for that?"

Ezra blinked away the tears, unable to speak or react as Buck pushed himself off the wall.

"There now," Buck hushed. "You get some sleep and I'll see you for dinner."

Buck drew the blinds closed, tucked the sheets up around Ezra, dropping a tender kiss upon his brow. He shooed Nathan out onto the landing where Amanda was waiting, closing the door of his room behind him.

"Will he be alright?" he asked of Nathan, his eyes asking Nathan not to sugar coat it.

"I honestly don't know. It sounds like he had a seizure. I don't know why but it's probably because of the hanging. He could get better or worse, he could be sickening for something though I found no sign of fever. We have to face the fact that Ezra might never be whole. He might never fully recover. I don't know if he'll have another fit or not, but I'll make sure I'm ready if he does. I'm real sorry, Buck."

"Damn," Buck hissed, angry, looking for something to hit but not daring to take out his anger on Ezra's expensive Chinese vases.

Nathan grabbed his arm, trying to calm him down.

"He's alive, Buck. It's more than we ever dared to hope for."

"I hate to see him like this. Ezra doesn't deserve this. He ain't perfect, but he's not a bad man."

"I know," Nathan admitted quietly.

"It's not your fault, Nathan. You saved him," Buck apologised.

Nathan looked pained. "For what?"

"For life." Amanda answered bluntly. "Ezra might be ill but he's more happy in his heart than I've ever seen him." She met Nathan's eyes. "Ezra has been lonely and unhappy all his life. You're all his family. Don't you see that? He might be a liar and a thief but he'd die for you, any of you, again, if he had to, without question." She shook her head. "You didn't know that? What does Ezra have to do to prove himself worthy? Think of that, Mr Jackson." Her eyes burned.

"Nothing," Nathan answered quietly. "He doesn't need to prove himself to us, to me, not any more. I've been wrong, not to accept Ezra. He apologised to me for his prejudices but I never forgave him. That was selfish of me."

"Maybe Ezra needs to hear that."

Nathan nodded. He glanced at Buck again. "You really do care about him, don't you?" Nathan couldn't hide the incredulity in his voice.

Buck shook his head, surprised at the turn his life had taken as well, still shocked by the intensity of his feelings towards the young man who lay behind the door he leant against.

"Yeah, I do," Buck answered, unable to hide the warmth in his voice.

"It's about time Ezra had someone to care about, other than himself," Nathan agreed. "Let him sleep, I'll see him in the morning." He left Buck to keep watch over Ezra. Nathan's own mind was rolling over the revelations he'd seen played out before him. Buck Wilmington had fallen in love at last, and with the most unlikely of candidates.

ª

Buck had sunk down on a chair outside his room, dozing, his long legs stretched out in front of him, a sleeping guard dog.

The rustle of skirts snapped him awake by instinct.

"He's still sleeping, doctor's orders," he warned, standing up and barring the door.

Amanda smiled prettily.

"My, such devotion to duty, or does he just pay you?"

Buck's eyes grew hard and she knew she'd walked onto dangerous ground.

"Ezra's lucky to have such a devoted friend in you, Mr Wilmington. Tell me, how did you meet?" She linked her arm in his, drawing him away from the door to his rooms.

"A while back. Chris hired him as an extra shootist for this job he had. Ezra was very uppity and didn't go out of his way to be liked. In fact, I swear he went around deliberately rubbing everyone up the wrong way. I would have taken him aside and talked some sense to him then, but I had my hands full in trying to make sure JD didn't get his damn fool head shot off."

"JD?"

"Just a kid, you'll see him about town. He's a good kid, but green as all get out."

"So you took him under your wing."

"Somebody had to. Anyone could see JD wasn't going to last five minutes."

"You're a good man, Mr Wilmington."

Buck shrugged.

"So now you look after Ezra."

"JD doesn't want or need my advice much these days, and Ezra, Ezra needs somebody to give a damn about him."

"You?" She turned to face him, sizing him up in a way that made Buck uncomfortable.

"Somebody had to," Buck repeated. "Ezra got himself messed up pretty badly. He nearly died. Somebody had to save him."

Amanda smiled, amused. "And I'd heard you were quite the ladies man."

Buck stopped, confused. "It's been said."

"And now you love Ezra."

"What? Now wait a minute -"

"You don't need to hide with me, I know Ezra's tastes." She gave him a very appraising stare which sent the heat rising up into his skin.

"I thought you mentioned Ezra having had his heart set on this Vin."

"He did, he probably always will." Buck answered her curious look. "Vin is too busy holding a candle for Chris."

"Oh my. It is complicated, isn't it."

"Not really." Not if she'd seen Chris, really seen him, the way Buck had, the way Vin did now.

She saw the memory warm his eyes for a moment. So, not quite the ladies man as local legend would have it. She rested against her door, smiling at him.

"We seem to arrived at my room. I'd love to hear more about what my dear friend Ezra has been up to these last few years. Won't you come in?"

Buck hesitated for a moment, but the lure of her perfume, the light in her eye and the chance to discover something of Ezra's past, some insight from someone else who'd been close to him, it was more than Buck could resist.

She caught his hand in hers and led him into her room, the fly willingly ensnared by the spider.

Talking lead to drinking, and drinking led to Buck letting his guard down. Chris had always said Buck's brain went south whenever beautiful women were involved and this time was no different. He had tried, he truly had, but he was careless and warm from her brandy and the soft casual, accidental brushes of her skin against his became less accidental and less casual and before long she had drawn him into her bed. She'd shed his clothing like a second skin and kissed away the last cares he had. Buck was functioning solely on instinct, his senses overwhelmed, and she caressed his thick dark hair as he tasted her throat and breasts and earlobes and then her mouth again like a man starved.

Amanda rose up on the pillows as Buck left a trail of long languorous kisses all the way down from her throat to he inside of her thigh, flicking his tongue across the delicate skin. She arched up with a breaking sigh. Oh yes, Mr Wilmington knew his way around a woman, and his reputation was well deserved. Why he was with Ezra was a mystery she was curious to solve, but right now her mind was on other matters. Oh yes, Mr Wilmington certainly knew his way around a woman.

Buck rolled back onto the pillows, sated and covered in sweat and her scent. He knew it was cheating but it had been so long since he'd had a woman in his bed. He missed the special smell and feel of them, and this one was better than most, a perfect jewel, and she'd practically thrown herself at him. Buck just wasn't a strong enough man to resist that sort of temptation. He regretted it, but a man couldn't change his nature, not overnight.

She turned to face him, rubbing a hand across his chest possessively, tracing out the scar slashed down across it.

"Somebody came close," she murmured.

"Too close," Buck agreed, voice twitchy, not wanting to dwell on the memory. He watched her find the healed cuts on his arm. "Me and swords, we don't get along too well," he tried to joke.

"I can see," she purred, winding a hand through his hair.

"Hey," he murmured as she kissed him again. He tried to study her eyes but she was a mystery to him, hiding herself, the way Ezra used to.

Ezra. The thought of Ezra's eyes being closed off to him spiked through him in a sharp twist of guilt, especially since he knew he would deserve the censure. He wasn't quite sure how Ezra would weather this dalliance. Usually Ezra just shrugged it off, but he'd been so irritable lately, as if the strain of staying in one place too long and trying to be good was wearing him down, like a horse too long in the harness. Ezra remembered his freedom and that's what Buck saw in Amanda's eyes now: freedom. Free of care, free of responsibility, free of the ties that bind. A part of him missed that callous disregard, that refusal to let any one closer than arm's reach that had so intrigued him about Ezra. Perhaps a part of him was panicking that Ezra actually needed him and relied on him, much the way Ezra had spurned their first overtures of friendship, hissing like a wild cat whenever anyone got to close.

"You think you've domesticated him," Amanda remarked, startling Buck.

She smiled, revealing in her smile that she could read him as easily as Ezra could.

"What makes Ezra stay in this little town, I wonder?"

"I don't rightly know," Buck answered honestly.

"He's changed. He wear's my Ezra's face, but he's a different man inside. Did you change him?" The accusation was soft but sharp.

"No, Ma'am," Buck was quick to disagree. "You give me too much credit. Life, life changed him. Friendship, people he could trust, some bad times, some good." Buck rested himself on his elbow. "You've seen the man he is now, I want to know what he was like then, when you knew him."

"Ezra?" She smiled as memories danced in her eyes. "He was such a cocky young thing. Precocious, with the sort of shining pride only very young boys on the cusp of manhood have, when they think the world belongs to them."

Buck grinned, he could remember his own misspent youth.

"We met at a garden party, I think, or some sort of merrymaking. I do believe he was smitten. He introduced himself, so brash and young and handsome and asked me to dance and I indulged him and the little bastard stole my earrings and necklace while he held me close. So I paid him a visit to retrieve them."

Buck could well imagine. "You tried to steal them back, to teach him a lesson against stealing from one of his own, didn't you."

"He was better than I gave him credit. We played tag for a week before he managed to convince me to teach him what I knew, to further his trade. He was so sweetly sincere, and I thought having a willing student would be fun."

"Was it?"

"Oh yes, Ezra is a very quick study. He was a delight to tutor, a most promising pupil. There was nowhere we couldn't go, nothing we couldn't do. We were partners in...mischief," she smiled her cat like smile again.

"What happened?"

"It wasn't my fault. I ran into somebody I'd known and Ezra was left holding the bag. He escaped custody but I don't think he's ever forgiven me. He thinks I betrayed him, or let him down, at the very least. He has such a brittle heart, our dear Ezra. In our business, it doesn't do to let your guard down. Ezra isn't used to caring for people other than himself and he wounds so easily when people disappoint him. And they always do, Mr Wilmington."

She sat up, gathering the sheet around herself. "You must be very sure of yourself, that Ezra won't mind your being here with me."

Buck reacted as if slapped, gathering up his hat, gun, boots all in a bundle while trying to pull on his shirt and trousers. He shot her a furious look and stalked out, reminded of his own complicity and weakness.

Amanda laughed softly to herself and fell back on her pillows. She knew now why Ezra stayed in this little town. All six feet of blue-eyed, black haired, tanned and muscular reasons to stay.

ª

Buck was sitting with his friends for breakfast, playing with the trinket he'd won the night before in a poker game. Buck turned the medal over in his hands.

JD saw it and asked: "St Jude?"

"The patron saint of lost causes," Josiah mused, knowing of whom Buck was thinking, as always. A half smile on his lips.

"Couldn't hurt," Buck muttered quietly, slipping the medal away.

"You really that worried about Ezra?" JD asked, in between shovelling mouthfuls of mashed potatoes into his face. "Seems to me Ezra's always poorly these days," he shrugged.

"I don't want him to be poorly," Buck explained patiently. "I want him to be just fine -" his gaze suddenly went straight over JD's head and he stood up, pushing his seat back.

"Ma'am," he nodded, offering his chair.

JD glanced up at Amanda, admired her and grinned at the way Buck was also admiring her. Some things never change. Buck was already sitting beside her and pouring her coffee.

Josiah noticed too. Perhaps St Jude was working in his own mysterious ways.

"Ezra?" she asked.

"Still sleeping last I checked."

"Do you mind if I go up and see him?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Buck really didn't trust her. "Boy needs his sleep."

"You know best," she agreed, though it could have also have been a challenge. So protective, both of them, of Ezra.

She stood again, taking her leave, and Buck stood with her, always the gentleman.

"Walk with me?" she offered her arm.

"It'd be my pleasure," Buck returned her guarded smile, knowing he had a weakness for a pretty face but powerless to do anything about it. At least he'd be keeping her away from Ezra, he thought heroically.

Hidden behind the saloon doors, Ezra watched them leave the hotel together, his empty stomach twisting. Ezra didn't need to smell her perfume on Buck to know something had happened between them. Ezra knew Buck all to well and he knew what that light in his eyes and that bounce in his step meant. He saw the solicitous way Buck offered his arm to squire her around town, the way Buck leant in close to murmur some amusing line, the way they casually brushed together. Ezra knew these two people better than he knew himself and he just knew. He gripped the edge of the saloon door tightly as he watched them promenade openly down the opposite street, himself hidden by shadows, lurking inside the saloon like a creature of the night. The bitter spear of betrayal surprised him. He knew Buck's nature, and accepted it, and he knew Amanda was never to be trusted, but to see them flaunt it, revel in it, that boiled inside him.

He pushed himself away from the doorway, feeling like a slapped child. Of course Buck would prefer Amanda's company to his. He slumped into his usual seat and knocked his cane angrily away, furious that he'd had to resort to it today. Inez hurried over with a glass of whisky, seeing his mood but saying nothing. He drank it in one swallow and pulled out his pack of cards, but found no comfort in them. His hand was shaking slightly and the more he willed it to stop the worse it got. He threw down the deck in annoyance, grabbed his cane and began to hobble upstairs, but stopped and turned back, unable to do anything but watch Buck and Amanda walk down the street together, completely oblivious to his existence.

Buck paused in the window of the shop, admiring an engraved silver cigarette case.

"You're thinking it would make a nice present for Ezra."

"Yeah," Buck agreed. "He's been so unhappy - he hates feeling dependent. Just when we thought he was back to his old self. I'd do anything to cheer him up - he's not easy when he gets in these moods."

"So you want to buy him a present."

"Ezra likes nice things. Too rich for my blood, though." Buck sighed and turned away.

"What if I bought it?" Amanda offered.

Buck shook his head. He wanted the gift to come from him or not at all.

"You're always thinking of him," she observed, and Buck wasn't sure if he was being praised or chastised.

"He's my friend," Buck shrugged off his concern for Ezra. He glanced up at the hotel, believing most likely Ezra was holed up there, sulking. These fits were wearing on Buck and the rest of them almost as much as they were wearing on Ezra. Especially Vin - if he could take Ezra's pain, Buck knew Vin would. The guilt etched in Vin's face had aged him a little, his feelings for Ezra still evident. It prickled Buck but he truly felt sorry for Vin. He'd hate to have to carry the weight of what Ezra had done, knowing it could never be undone.

"Are you going to keep to your promise to show me your town or not, Mr Wilmington," Amanda roused him from his brooding sharply.

He managed a smile for her benefit and offered his arm again, a quick glance at the darkened saloon doors piercing his own conscience. Damn, he should have known better than to let a woman like this get her claws into him. An old friend of Ezra's and obviously not to be trusted. He knew she had him exactly where she wanted him, though what her game was, he had little idea.

"Mr Wilmington," Amanda brushed his ear, sliding her arm through his and falling into step. "You ran off last night."

"Didn't seem right."

"It seemed right before," she teased. "Tell me you didn't enjoy it, because I know otherwise."

Buck almost blushed at her directness. "Now look here, anything we might have shared..." He found he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. "It was just for one night."

"Is that what you tell all your women, Mr Wilmington. What about Ezra? How long is he for?"

"You leave Ezra out of this."

"Rather difficult, don't you think, Ezra being a dear friend we both have in common."

Buck stopped and turned to face her. "What are you playing at? Do you want to make Ezra jealous or to hurt him?"

"Neither, and I'm shocked that you would make such accusations, Mr Wilmington."

"So you just found yourself helpless to resist my charms, is that it?"

"Didn't you, Mr Wilmington?" She tossed it back to him. "Didn't you find my charms just as alluring?"

Buck fumed for a second, then leant close, smiling his own shit-eating grin. "If you're trying to recruit Ezra for whatever job you've got going, try somewhere else. Ezra already has a job here, with us."

"Does he? You think he's so happy here, that he feels like he belongs here so much he couldn't be tempted away, or driven away?"

"You think you could?" He challenged, but he saw it in her eyes. Yes, she could. She reminded Buck uncomfortably of Maude, Ezra’s mother, and the thought gave him shudders.

"Don't," Buck pleaded. "I know what your game is now. Don't do this to him."

"I'm not doing anything, Mr Wilmington. If you think you deserve him you'll be able to keep him. Just remember that men like Ezra, they don't like owing anyone anything, or being bound to someone. Good day, Mr Wilmington," she smiled and slipped her arm from his, crossing the road to greet an emerging Ezra cheerfully, remarking on his improved colour and what a charming companion Mr Wilmington had proven to be.

Ezra shot a sharp questioning glance at Buck, caught Buck's hesitation to meet his eyes, and knew for certain. Ezra hid his reaction so smoothly Amanda wanted to applaud his finesse, kissing his cheek tenderly and steering him down the boarded walkway, away from Buck, watching as Ezra's mask slid effortlessly into place.

Ezra linked his arm with hers.

"There really isn't any honour among thieves," he murmured, smiling, but his words had a winter's chill to them.

"Why, Ezra, whatever do you mean?'

"Well, unless I am mistaken, it is still considered poor form to court your best friend's...paramour."

"Mr Wilmington?"

"Buck is not known for his resistance to temptation where the female form is concerned. He is a slave to the siren's song, as you knew very well."

Amanda gave him an innocent look, as though she'd missed his meaning.

"Don't tempt him," Ezra fell to being blunt.

Amanda withdrew her arm from his.

"It's not my fault you don't trust Mr Wilmington."

"I don't trust you. I don't mind if you let him fumble in your petticoats but I've seen the way he's been looking at you. Don't break his heart."

"No, because that's your area of expertise, isn't it."

Ezra stopped, horrified. "I would never -"

"That's what they all say," Amanda snapped, walking off, leaving Ezra standing alone in the street, shocked.

Buck saw the bitter exchange and knew he was the cause of it. He caught Ezra's eyes for a moment and saw himself reflected in them, and quickly glanced away again. Instead he took off after Amanda, wanting to know just what she'd said to make Ezra react so badly, openly and in public.

Ezra watched Buck trail after Amanda, expecting nothing more or less of Buck, and yet more disappointed and indeed, jealous, than he could barely give himself credit for. Once upon a time he would have followed them, watched them, contrived to overhear them, but he knew both well enough to excuse himself the effort. Amanda was playing Buck for all she was worth, telling him exactly what he wanted to hear, showing him exactly what he wanted to see, being exactly where he wanted to be. Poor Buck, he knew he was being played but he was no match for Amanda, not when she had him tied up with silken strings, bewitched, bedazzled and bewildered. Buck was her willing puppet and he could be made to do anything, including the last thing he would ever want to do, which was to break Ezra's heart.

"Touche, Amanda," Ezra murmured to himself. Touche.

He lit a cigar as he lounged against a post on the boardwalk, watching them, Amanda leading Buck by an invisible thread like a dog on a leash.

"You don't mind?" JD looked from a retreating Buck to Ezra, searching for the slightest hint of jealousy, but if Ezra felt it, he certainly wasn't showing it to JD, a puff of smoke obscuring his face.

"I like Buck," Ezra drawled. "But I'm not looking to marry the man."

JD chuckled.

"It ain't nothing," Ezra continued, trying to fool himself as much as JD. "Women for Buck are a sensual pleasure, like a big juicy pie that you eat -" no, that metaphor wasn't going to work. "Women for Buck," he tried again.

"I get it," JD spared him. "Buck likes women, but it don't mean nothin'."

"No, it never does," Ezra agreed softly.

 

 

When Buck finally went looking for Ezra, Amanda refusing to leave him be, he found Ezra at last curled in his own bed, obviously deep in a drugged sleep. Worn down with practice, Buck sat down on the bed and tried shaking Ezra awake. When that didn't work, he fetched the smelling salts which brought Ezra to jerking life, mumbling complaints and pushing Buck away, trying to go back to sleep but Buck wouldn't let him, making him sit up and holding him there, in spite of all the slurred protests.

"I think you'd better go," he warned Amanda, in no mood to deal with any of the complications she brought with her.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He takes too much laudanum sometimes by accident. He uses it to sleep."

It was then that Buck saw very real concern and horror in Amanda's eyes. She reached forward to try and comfort Ezra but Buck's expression said no, this was private.

"What? You thought this was a game?" he accused in a half whispered hiss. "You thought Ezra could be played with? He's not the boy you knew, if he ever was. There's a sadness inside him that I just can't touch. He didn't go to the gallows to save his friend, he went there to die and you're a fool if you think otherwise."

Amanda shook her head, not wanting to believe this of her Ezra, eyes bright with unshed tears.

Buck tried to explain the Ezra he knew to her. "For some reason Ezra got it into his damn fool head that Chris is some sort of hero and he'll never measure up - and there's nothing I can do to make him see sense. Somebody told Ezra he was no good, and he's believed it, set out to prove it, ever since."

"Well, it wasn't me."

Buck gave her a sharp look, to which Amanda took deep offence.

"I would never - I love Ezra."

"You've got a funny way of showing it."

"We were only playing."

"Playing? This isn't some game, some role he's invented. This is Ezra's real life, this town is his home. No more lies, no more pretending." He turned back to Ezra, brushing his cheek softly. "He can't see it but he's come so far - I don't need you dragging him back down again. Living like that doesn't make him happy."

"And living like this does?"

Buck couldn't give her that answer.

She was twisting her gloves, wanting to ask how long this had been going on, wanting to know if this was the worst it had ever been, but Buck's eyes told her this was not, not by half. She fretted for a while, then regretfully retreated, sorry for her part in it.

Buck's very manner made no secret of the fact that Ezra's troubles had renewed since her arrival in town. Whatever history she had with Ezra was her business, but it wasn't without its ripple effects, not in a small town like this. Something had stirred the dust in Ezra's dark places.

"Ezra, Ezra?" Buck searched his friend's face for answers as soon as Amanda had made her exit, closing the door behind her.

Ezra opened his eyes and Buck saw it, the weary disappointment that he'd seen in those same eyes whenever Vin walked into a room. This was the first time Buck had ever been the cause of it though. Ezra knew exactly what he'd done. He bowed his head, confirming his guilt.

"Ezra," Buck tried, but Ezra shook his head, not willing to discuss it, not wanting to discuss it, ever. He could learn to live with Buck's weaknesses as much as Buck endured his own. It just hurt, to a surprising degree. He'd not regarded Buck as 'his' until the moment he'd realised Buck wasn't, at least, not exclusively. It shouldn't matter, he'd known Buck for years now, he knew what Buck was like. Amanda would be forgotten as soon as she rode out of town. Or perhaps not. It was the doubt that wriggled in his head, poisoning his thoughts.

"I know what she's like," was all Ezra said, absolving Buck of his part in it, at least. And he did know. Better men than Buck had fallen to Amanda. There was no shame in it. Only regret, as though discovering his hero was all too fallibly human. He shook himself - had he really begun to see Buck in such a ridiculous light? Buck had become everything to him. Until now, Ezra hadn't realised just how much he'd been gilding Buck in his own eyes.

The gloss had gone now, but Buck was still holding him in his arms, purring reassurance in his ear and Ezra still - he still needed him. Ezra's arms wrapped around Buck and he held him tight. He still felt safe and warm in Buck's arms, he still felt the desire coil in his gut, nuzzling against Buck, wishing his lips to say what his mouth could not, not yet, anyway. Not when emotions were still new and raw and tested.

Gently resisting Ezra's seeking tongue, feeling too chastened to let Ezra smooth over the hurts they'd caused each other just now, Buck propped his young charge back against the pillows and, pulling Ezra's abandoned pack of cards from his pocket, Buck quietly dealt them both a hand.

Ezra's eyes were darker now. They'd been like pin pricks before, all vicious and annoyed green, like a cat's. Now they were opening up as he slowly warmed to Buck again.

They played quietly for several hours together before the conversation came around to Amanda again. Ezra's tongue, freed to a surprising degree by the opiates still in his system, let loose with a few well chosen and jealously driven words to describe his former associate, words that made Buck's face tighten as Ezra slurred that particular woman and all woman kind.

"My mother was a whore," Buck reminded gently, objecting to the epitaph.

"And what do you think my mother does for a living?" Ezra sneered back. "Just because she occasionally gets their names on a marriage licence doesn't make it any less tawdry."

Buck sat forward, curious.

"Just how many stepfathers have you had?"

"Five, I think," Ezra answered after doing the mental arithmetic, amused at Buck's reaction. "And I had very little to do with any of them."

Buck mouthed the word five over and over again, and heaven only knew how many paramours in between. No wonder Ezra had grown up so mercenary, so wary of people's intentions, so willing to be disappointed.

"Ain't easy for a woman to raise a stake or a son on her own," Buck spoke quietly, throwing his hand down, knowing Ezra wasn't really listening to him. Any attempt to absolve Amanda or Maude of their actions would just tar him with the same brush in Ezra's eyes, and he was painted black enough as it was.

ª

Ezra looked down the barrel of a gun and fired at the bottles he'd lined up. He got the first and second, just winged the third and missed the fourth entirely. He lined up the fifth, but he could feel his hand shaking. He lowered the gun and tried again, but hesitated, knowing there was a good chance he was going to miss and unable to bear the humiliation. He scowled, aimed and fired, but only managed to shoot the top off the neck.

He let his hand drop away, defeated.

"Problem?"

He turned to find Vin watching him, as always.

"No, just a little off my game," Ezra tried to cover.

"Does Chris know?" Vin asked quietly, looking straight through Ezra like he was glass.

Ezra turned on him. "Why does Chris have to know? Even if I never get it back, half of what I was is still twice as good as anyone else."

Vin ignored the bluster, catching Ezra's hand and holding it in his own, turning it over gently, stroking the palm.

"Still got the shakes from the other day," Ezra tried to shrug it off and pulled his hand free, holding it out between them. The trembling was subtle, but as he focused it stopped, for the moment.

Vin took Ezra's hand again, rubbing it softly. Cool grey eyes held green.

"I'm so sorry, Ezra."

Ezra pulled his hand back, flicking his eyes away. "It wasn't your doing."

"But your hand - "

"I just need to practice some more." Ezra grabbed his gun from his holster and fired, cracking the last bottle dead centre this time. "I just need to practice," he reassured.

From a distance Buck saw them, standing so close together, Ezra's hand in Vin's, and he slumped a little, wondering if Ezra would ever get over Vin, or vice versa.

Buck watched them until Vin walked away and Ezra ceased his target practice, waiting for Ezra just inside the saloon, pouncing on him the moment Ezra walked in.

Buck ducked down real close, almost brushing Ezra's face with his own.

"What were you and Vin talking about?" he demanded.

Ezra knew where this was heading, and tried to stop that line of inquiry in its tracks.

"Nothing. He was just apologising, again, on account of my bad turn the other day. He takes it hard - he blames himself. I never meant - " He shook his head, annoyed. "Vin and I, we're still friends, Buck. He regrets his part in...all of this," Ezra gestured openly.

"He still feels guilty?" A light went on for Buck. "That's why you cut him loose. You couldn't live with that look in his eyes."

"Could you?" Ezra asked evenly.

Buck lowered his eyes and shook his head. No. Guilt had torn up his friendship with Chris, ripped it bleeding to the breaking point. Almost to the breaking point. They'd never actually parted brass rags, though it had been close. Nor had Ezra and Vin, apparently. There was still an affection between them, there probably always would be.

"He was holding your hand." Buck's jealous streak wouldn't stay quiet, no matter how much he willed it.

Ezra dipped his head, not meeting Buck's eyes. From being caught out, Buck thought for a moment, feeling a hollow victory, then he watched as Ezra slowly held out his hand and he saw the slight, almost invisible tremble.

"How long has that been there?"

Ezra balled his hand into a fist, then opened it again, and it was steady.

"It comes and goes. I hoped it had gone away for good, but it came back."

"Because of the other day." Buck exhaled harshly, wishing this would all be over even more than Ezra did.

"Have you spoken to Nathan?"

"What could he do?" Ezra appealed. "Vin agreed, I should just practice, keep practicing. I'll get it back, I will get it all back."

"What if you don't."

Buck saw it in Ezra's eyes. That just wasn't an option.

ª

It was a poor man's Alladin's cave, the safe in Ezra's best hotel. Nevertheless he couldn't help feel a thrill as he stood in from of the safe and felt the bundles of notes and soft velvet lined jewel boxes that lay within. He was responsible for all this loot, where once upon a time the only reason he'd have opened this safe was to empty of its contents, not take an inventory. Talk about letting the fox guard the hen house. Yet as much as Chris had grown into his role from ruffian to regulator, so too had Ezra metamorphosed from thief to respectable businessman. Not that there was a great variance of difference, as far as Ezra was concerned, though legitimate business offered him less scope to be creative, and he did feel the strong lure of temptation coaxing him into backsliding, but he resisted. He was trying so hard to stay above board, to be above reproach, so as to not disgrace his friends as much as anything else. Especially Buck. Dear Buck held him in such good regard, it was quite touching, really. Ezra would move heaven and earth not to harm that regard.

Which was why he was fretting now. He could feel the weight of the jewels in his hands and he could feel himself break into a sweat, all the way down his back, like an addict. The thrill of just the thought of slipping the gems into his pocket and casually strolling out and catching the next stage, it made his hands tremble, but he couldn't. He had people here, people who didn't trust him, and he wasn't about to prove them right, not again.

The torment of his own weakness was one thing. The torment of another's was quite something else. Amanda was in town and the only things worth stealing, if not from the bank, were under Ezra's own rooves and they both knew it. Amanda had been his teacher and he knew he was no match for her. The best he could hope to be was vigilant, and pray that his friends were as good as their reputation claimed.

Feeling the cool heavy jewels slip through his fingers, Ezra suddenly knew exactly what Amanda's game was. Stealing his boyfriend, that was just a diversion. An annoying diversion, but a diversion nevertheless. No, the real game, that was something else.

Reluctantly Ezra slid the jewels back into the safe and shut the door firmly. He'd barely felt the satisfying tumble of the locks as he removed the key before shouts from outside sprang up, crying fire! So, it had begun.

By the time he'd safeguarded his property to the best of his ability the rest of his associates and townsfolk were splashing buckets of water onto the heavily smoking barn and stamping out smouldering spot fires, the cold night air driving spectators indoors again almost as quickly as they'd appeared on the street.

That's when the first cry rang out, as people returned to their homes to find they had been robbed. Mary returned, as white as a sheet in spite of her smudges, appealing to a soot stained Chris that her mother's cameo was missing. Several other reports of similar thefts crowded around the seven.

Chris wearily downed tools and followed the gazes of JD and Josiah and even Vin towards the only one of them who wasn't covered in burnt straw and smelling strongly of smoke.

"Where you been, Ezra?" JD accused, not hiding his suspicions.

"Why, I was at my hotel, ensuing the safety of my guest's property - you don't expect me to run into the street and leave it unattended, surely not."

"You're the only one who didn't," Chris observed sourly.

"I don't believe I like your implications," Ezra slipped into an icy anger.

Chris just shook his head, as if catching Ezra with his hand in the biscuit tin.

"Now, Chris," Buck tried to protest.

"I have to ask, Buck. He was the only one of us who showed up late."

"Surely you can't be thinking -" Ezra protested, but that was exactly what they were thinking. Humiliated beyond words Ezra was escorted by his so called friends to the gaol where he was made to sit as Chris and Vin compiled a growing list of all the missing items.

Chris glanced over at Ezra and shook his head again, more bemused than annoyed, because he already had his thief in custody. Of all the brazen stunts Ezra had pulled, this one took the cake.

Chris caught Buck's eyes for a moment, and the betrayal he saw there changed his mood as quickly as the squalls that swept down over the plains. His mouth tightened, it didn't look good. The last report was from Ezra's better hotel. His safe, too, had been emptied, and he'd been the last person seen near it.

Buck bowed his head, unable to even look at Ezra.

Ezra caught that, the subtle avoidance of eye contact, the way Buck had moved across the room, away from him, and took the body blow. Et tu, Buck. Even Buck believed, because Ezra's hands were clean, when all of theirs were dirty. Of all the ironies...

Ezra laughed suddenly.

"What?" Chris wasn't in the mood for Ezra's dramatics.

"She did this - we did this, before. It's an old one, but a good one. You make a play on the local bank and everyone decides it's safer to keep their valuables under their beds. Then you just go around and steal whatever you find hidden under their mattresses. No steel bars, no safes to crack. Easy money."

Chris shook his head. This was just too much.

"He's in on it," he remarked to Vin.

"I protest your slur on my good character -" Ezra tried to stand but Josiah held him in his seat. He looked to Vin but Vin just shook his head and Buck, Buck looked away again.

Ezra's shoulders sank. So that was it. Once a thief...

"You malign me. On my honour -"

Chris snorted.

Ezra appealed to Buck again.

"You bailed her out, Ezra, knowing she was a thief," Buck reminded, pained.

"She's my friend -"

"Exactly." Chris leant in close. "And this friend of yours has just robbed this town blind."

"She robbed me too. I asked her not to do anything here."

"You knew what she was planning?"

"I asked her not to." Ezra repeated quietly.

Buck pulled Chris back.

"Maybe he's telling the truth. Maybe she betrayed his trust in her. I don't think Ezra would do this."

"What, lie, steal? Like he'd never cheat his friends at cards?"

Buck fell silent again. There was nothing he could say. Ezra's past was against him.

"She left me to take the fall, again," Ezra realised, annoyed.

"Maybe you should have left town with her," Chris snarled. He threw the keys to JD. "Lock him up."

"You can't put me in gaol!" Ezra spluttered, trying to struggle to his feet but Josiah still had him pinned in the chair. "You have no proof."

"Not yet," Chris flashed him an evil smile as he slammed the cell door shut on Ezra.

They all trooped off to ransack Ezra's room, leaving him alone in the dark gaol cell. Choosing not to dwell upon his associates' complete lack of faith in him, Ezra felt inside his waistcoat and gently removed the lockpick he'd secreted in the lining for just such emergencies. He reached his hand through the bars and deftly began his work. They'd yet to build a cell that could hold Ezra P. Standish if he wanted out badly enough.

Minutes later he was outside in the deserted street. He could see the lights in his room and the shadows moving against the walls He glanced away for a moment, then noticed a flicker of light in the church. Not Josiah, surely. He was with them, busy proving Ezra's guilt by association. No, in an instant he knew exactly who it was.

 

"Satisfied?" Buck asked, standing against the papered wall with his arms folded as Chris stood back to survey the wreckage, their search having failed to turn up any trace of stolen loot in Ezra's room.

"Don't mean he didn't hide it somewhere else."

Buck shook his head. "I don't believe this."

"I didn't hear you standing up for Ezra back at the gaol. Be honest, Buck. You knew there was a possibility he was in on it. I know you're hoping he's not, but even now, you know there's every chance. Ezra is just as crooked as he's ever been."

"That don't make it right. Since when did we stop taking a man at his word."

"Since it was Ezra," JD reminded.

"The man has cried wolf more often than not," Josiah agreed.

"Ezra just hasn't proved himself trustworthy," Nathan added his voice.

Nobody really knew Ezra, least of all himself. Ezra was unsure as to who his father really was, and he'd spent his life up until now pretending to be one thing or another, never himself. Even now he was pretending, trying to make everyone believe he'd reformed. Not even Ezra really believed it.

Chris certainly didn’t. He surveyed the room with narrowed eyes.

"Two attempted bank robberies and Ezra's old friend shows up."

"You think it's not coincidence."

"I'm thinking Ezra's been in on this from the start. That this whole thing's a scam."

Buck shook his head. "No. He can't - he wouldn't -"

"What? Lie, cheat, steal? Run out on us? He has before."

"He didn't know us then."

"You think that makes a difference to the likes of Ezra?"

"I can't believe this could all be some trick," Buck persisted, heart breaking.

"That's the beauty of it," Chris reminded. "Ezra's a professional liar. He always has been and he always will be. Never forget that."

Buck fell silent, distraught, doubt eating away at him.

Vin said nothing, quietly putting away Ezra's things. He righted the chair and that's when he saw it, the light flickering in the church.

ª

Amanda heard the soft click of a drawn gun behind her.

"You were going to leave, without saying goodbye?" Ezra drawled, leaning against the open doorway.

His words startled her, making her nearly drop the wrapped bundle of pilfered goods she'd been cradling.

"Ezra," she turned with a smile.

Ezra smiled back but there was a cold light in his eyes.

"Has it come to this, robbing the poor plate?" His smiled flashed gold in the candlelight. "How the mighty have fallen," he tsked.

"You know me better than that," she purred, not at all fazed by the gun he held on her.

"I do," he agreed, strolling down past the pews. "Just how many establishments did you hit tonight?"

"Enough. In case you haven’t noticed, this town isn’t exactly rich pickings."

"Depends on what you’re looking for," he countered.

"I managed to find your little stash, didn’t I?" she taunted. "Ezra, I thought I’d taught you better than that."

"I stopped hiding."

She shook her head. "You’ve never stopped hiding. You’re just standing still, there’s a difference."

"You hid them here," he realised, changing the subject. "To pick up later – while everyone is tearing my rooms apart. You haven’t changed, Amanda. You always bolt to sanctuary." He glanced around the meagre church.

"I knew you'd remember, eventually. I thought you were in on it - I can't believe you actually fell for it."

"Neither can I," he admitted. "I've lost my edge, in this town." He shook his head sadly, the instant accusations of his friends pricking at him again.

"Come with me, get it back."

For a long moment he actually considered her offer. Then he shook his head.

"You used me, you set me up, you left me to take the fall, as always."

"They don't trust you. How much convincing did they need, to think you were a part of this?"

"They don't know me, but I know you. You blew it at the bank, deliberately, so you thought you could rob me. You can't con a con, you taught me that."

"I've done alight so far." She hefted her heavily stuffed purse, tinkling and clanking as the jewellery tumbled together.

"Where did you get this little hoard?"

"Here and there, card games mostly. Portable cash. My emergency funds. So put it down and turn around slowly," He waved at her with his gun.

 

Buck followed Vin's gaze down along the street and saw the light flickering through the church windows.

"Josiah, did you leave a light on?"

Josiah's head bobbed up, roused from his thoughts by the sound of his name.

"No."

"Damn. Chris!" Buck nodded towards the church.

Chris sprang up.

"What in the hell?"

 

 

Ezra was facing Amanda, and the small gun she'd drawn on him. A stand off. Ezra looked straight down the barrel of her revolver.

"Going to kill me?" he inquired calmly.

"No, not here."

Ezra glanced about the inside of the church. "Why, Amanda, I never knew you to be so religious."

She smiled. "Let's just say I'm superstitious."

Ezra stepped up close until her derringer was brushing the silk of his waistcoat.

"I can't just let you go, Amanda. I have my reputation in this town to protect."

"I know, darling." She smiled, bittersweet.

She drew him close and kissed him, soft and slow, while she carefully brought up her hand behind him to smack him hard across the back of his head with the butt of her revolver.

Ezra crumpled at her feet, out cold. She checked his pulse, then caressed his cheek, softly, pale in the moonlight. She dropped a light kiss upon his lips, tenderly.

"You always were my favourite," she whispered, placing another kiss upon his forehead. She slipped a heavy diamond necklace into his pocket. Then she stood, stepped over him and left, with only the slightest backwards glance as she passed through the door.

 

Ezra was curled unmoving on the floor of the church when they ran in, guns ready. Buck dashed over to him, heart racing, but Ezra was only stunned, complaining as Buck shook him to make sure he was alive.

"She hid it here, she always stashes it in a safe place, to go back for later, should have known," Ezra grumbled as Buck pulled him into a sitting position.

"You let her get away," Chris accused.

"Let her?" Ezra prodded the back of his head gingerly and pulled away blood smeared fingers. "Does it look like I let her?"

"A falling out amongst thieves," Chris insisted, snidely.

Ezra gave him a filthy look.

"Chris," Buck drew his old friend aside. "You can't make Ezra responsible for the actions of his former associates. Ezra has enough trouble keeping himself on the straight and narrow."

"I was trying to stop her." Ezra complained still rubbing the back of his head, ignoring Buck's backhanded moral support.

Chris gave Ezra another sceptical look.

"She blindsided you," he surmised.

"She kissed me," Ezra murmured, still pouting.

Chris couldn't help his grin. "She blindsided you," he agreed, laughing as Ezra sulked, chaffing under Chris' mocking.

"Hey now," Buck interjected. "Nathan, go get Ezra cleaned up. Chris," he dragged Chris aside. "She can't have got far."

Chris shook his head. "Forget it, we'll never find her. She's gone."

"With her partner," Vin added quietly, meaning the double set of tracks just outside the door that he’d seen, as they all turned back to look at Ezra, still sitting and whining loudly on the floor.

ª

Ezra sat alone on the edge of his bed, still poking at the bruise on the back of his head, wincing. Damn her. She'd left him holding the bag again. Some things never change. He patted down his pockets, searching for matches, and stopped when he felt a curious lump in his breast pocket.

Carefully, he reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the most exquisite diamond necklac