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DISCLAIMER: Didn't create them, just feeding my fix till they're
back on the air, so don't sue me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It was supposed to be just a quick little sequel.
But now this piece of self-indulgent script has taken on a life of its
own. What can I say, I'm long-winded.
After getting my 2nd video & being able to watch 6 more eps (esp.
'Wagon Train') I noticed Ezra calls the boys by their first names more,
as opposed to the consistent formality that we writers have endowed him
with. And his eloquence tends to slip when he's not working on keeping
his emotions in check.
I wrote this with inspiration from Mz. Smith's 'Angel of Mercy'.
Does it disturb anyone else that my muse seems to be Maggie & Cassie?
Be afraid, be very afraid.
maria.mogavero@optiva.com
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"I got a bad feelin' about this." JD wrapped the reins of his horse's bridle around the post outside a sad looking hotel in the Mexican town and subconsciously rested a hand on the butt of his Colt.
"Ah yes, and your practiced intuition has always resulted in such precise deductions."
JD cast a look tinged with irritation and hurt at the man standing beside him.
Ezra caught the glance and sighed heavily. "My apologies, Mr. Dunne. I am hot, tired and more than a little bewildered about our purpose here in this charmin' villa."
Standish truly had not meant to lay the boy with such a cutting remark. Of the six men he had found himself riding with recently, JD was the one Ezra actually tried to hold his usual biting sarcasm in check toward.
The others were either experienced enough or callous enough to let ninety-nine percent of what the southerner said roll off their backs. But JD, while having grown an impressive amount since coming to the west from Boston, still tended to take things a tad on the personal side.
Ezra smiled to himself as he thought of the changes that he himself had been experiencing recently. Not that long ago he wouldn't have cared one wit about Dunne's naivete, except in the capacity that it would have afforded him an incredibly easy mark.
Now here he was not only watching himself around the boy but watching out for him as well. Even if it was just out of the corner of his eye so that no one else would notice.
"Forget it, Ezra. Ain't nothin' that Buck hasn't told me a hundred times before, only comin' from him it don't sound so nice."
"Kid, the only reason I ride ya is to make sure you're thinkin'. Cuz a man who don't think, don't last too long, 'specially in places like this."
"'The Lord watches those, who watch their backs," Josiah offered, giving no apology for the paraphrase.
Nathan shot his friend a doubting smile, "Well, 'bout the only thing I wanna be watchin' is us ridin' outta here with Chris & Vin."
"Sound advice, Mr. Jackson. Now, how about we attempt to locate our wayward companions so we ourselves do not have to endure this place any longer than necessary."
Buck looked up and down the dusty street. "Me an' JD will see if anybody at the hotel has seen 'em."
"I shall check the telegraph office," interrupted Standish, anticipating Buck's direction. "We received their message yesterday, someone should remember them."
Josiah looked to the lean, black man beside him, "Nathan, I believe the saloon is calling our name."
With a small sweeping gesture of his arm, Jackson replied, "Lead on."
Buck adjusted his hat as he clomped up the wood steps to the hotel's entrance. "Meet ya back here in a few. C'mon kid."
Ezra found his way to a pathetic structure that housed not only the telegraph, but also the town's supply store and tack shop. He was, however; pleasantly surprised to discover, from the greeting delivered to him, that the man tending the counter spoke fluid English.
To combat any evasiveness, which he was in no mood for, the gambler withdrew two dollars from his vest pocket and lay it before the shopkeeper.
"I'm lookin' for two gentlemen who sent a telegram yesterday mornin' to Four Corners. Approximately half a head taller than myself, one with long brown hair, buckskin coat; the other dressed in a black duster."
The scrawny man gathered the money up as he answered. "Couple guys sent a message yesterday but they didn't quite look like that. One was 'bout that height, the other-'bout yours. But they each had real fancy suits on, dark with little stripes. And they had real short hair, greased back. 'Fore that, nobody's sent a 'gram since last Tuesday."
Ezra's curiosity rose as his heart sank. "Any idea where they might have been from?" But he already had his suspicions.
"Heard one of 'em sayin' somethin' 'bout bein' happy once they get back to New York. Ain't that in Oklahoma?"
Standish ignored the question, responding only with one of his own. "Did they say anythin' else?"
"They sure didn't hide the fact that they didn't care much for us 'round here. One of 'em said the 'gram should get the others down here, outta the way. 'Divide and court her', I think was what he said."
Ezra stared at the man for a half second before the truth hit him. "Divide and CONQUER?"
"Yeah, maybe that was it."
The gambler turned on his heel and had to control the urge he felt to sprint back to his companions.
Buck and JD were waiting by the horses as Ezra approached. The look in his usually imperturbable eyes did not go unnoticed by his two friends.
"We need to find Josiah and Nathan. Now."
JD shot Buck a wide-eyed, questioning stare as they followed the southerner to the saloon. The older man tried to give Dunne a reassuring smile but he too caught the emotion that Ezra had displayed and swallowed hard at what could possibly get the gambler so disturbed.
Ezra banged through the bat wing doors of the small Mexican saloon, the heels of his boots cracking hard against the wood floor. Sanchez, Jackson and a dozen seedy patrons seated around the room turned at the sudden burst of noise; each placing a hand on some form of weapon out of habit.
Standish stalked toward his friends, ignoring the collection of criminals scattered throughout the bar.
"Gentlemen, I believe we have a very serious situation." The gambler threw a coin on the bar and called for a shot of whiskey, which he quickly tossed back. Josiah and Nathan, like Buck and JD, could almost feel the tension radiating off the gambler.
Scanning his friends' faces he offered an assured guess that sounded more like a statement. "No word regarding Chris or Vin?"
Josiah kept his voice calm as he questioned Standish. "You don't seem surprised."
"The store keeper at the telegraph office informed me that two men did send a telegram to Four Corner's yesterday. It was not, however, our two gentlemen."
Buck shifted nervously, "Get to the point, Ezra."
"The point, Mr. Wilmington, is that judging from the description I was given we have not only been set up but we have been set up by..."
For the second time in less than a minute the doors of the saloon rattled open. Six men, a mixture of Mexican and American nationals, but all obviously hired guns, blocked what little light attempting to stream into the criminal refuge.
Buck mumbled low, "Remember that bad feelin' you had earlier, kid? I think it's catchin'."
"Lemme guess," added Nathan to Ezra in a similar quiet tone, "this is what you were about to describe to us."
Ezra stood closest to the newly arrived group, answering the healer without taking his eyes from the filthy band. "If this is all there is, I shall be truly delighted." There was no hint of amusement in his voice. "However, I expect this is merely the precursor."
"Delighted?" JD practically squeaked in a whisper. "Six against four delights you?" He cast his a look around the room and noticed the other patrons had cleared out.
Again Standish replied through tight lips with his back to his friends, "If you knew what I do, JD, you would be happy to have the odds doubled."
Josiah's hand rested cautiously on the butt of his pistol, "Don't suppose you'd like to fill us in?
But before Ezra had a chance to respond a huge man in a dark brown serape stepped forward from the confronting group.
"Well, looks like our pay just fell into our laps, boys. Pallero, get word to the hotel."
A Mexican with a long, black ponytail backed from the saloon to deliver his message.
Positioned behind Ezra, the four regulators witnessed a visible change come over the gambler. His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled a deep breath, cocking his head slightly to one side, he smiled at the group before them.
"Gentlemen, allow me to be frank. I am well acquainted with the individuals who hired you and I think it's safe to say you were not paid in advance for the job which you were brought together for. So... let's make a deal."
"I give you the three hundred dollars which I have upon my person at
this time and my associates and I leave through the back door right now."
"That is three hundred dollars cash. I can guarantee you that
you will not see one cent of your previously promised wage unless you happen
to have a year of your lives to waste and a team of at least half a dozen
attorneys specializing in corporate law."
Ezra could see the thought patterns register across the large man's face as he first interpreted what Standish had said and then considered the ramifications of such a deal. Greed won out and a small smile began to creep across the rough face; Ezra started to reach for the money in his boot.
But the gambler's relief was short lived. The southerner breathed
a curse as two figures appeared in the silhouette of the saloon's entrance.
As they walked slowly into the room, the peacekeepers behind Ezra got a
look at what
had shaken their partner so.
One man was tall, easily several inches over six feet. Sharp, cheekbones
and a well-chiseled jaw line set off a pair of eyes so dark brown they
almost appeared to meld with the black of the pupils. His brunette
hair was precisely styled, not a hair out of place. An immaculate
dark gray suit/white shirt /gray tie ensemble draped flawlessly over the
man's lean
frame.
The second man could have been his brother if not for the blonde hair and shorter stature. He stood no taller than JD but, after looking the man over, Dunne recognized the same intensity that radiated from Chris; albeit to a much lesser degree.
The blonde fixed an icy gaze on Ezra, "Mr. Standish, I certainly hope you weren't attempting to infringe upon our employment of these men?"
A lifetime of keeping emotions in check allowed Ezra to return the man's look with one tinged with amusement and boredom. "I wasn't aware that a verbal agreement, made in a Mexican backwater saloon, and that could be efficiently disputed by a student law clerk constituted sanctioned employment."
Standish noticed the blonde's mouth tighten at the condescending remark.
The southerner was well aware of how high the stakes were, even if his
companions did not; but he also knew that any sign of weakness would be
jumped upon by the two suited raptors and then there would be nothing
he could do to protect his friends.
Standing behind him, their hands still poised over their weapons, the other members of Chris Larabee's team watched the odd standoff play out. And though they didn't know the background of the two men it was evident that Ezra was the one who should be handling the situation.
Standish brushed some dirt from the sleeve of his scarlet jacket and straightened the cuffs of his shirt as he continued in his disinterested tone. "Perhaps you gentlemen could inform my companions and I what it is about us that you find so intimidatin'? I mean, why else would a 'divide and conquer' tactic be necessary?"
JD exchanged a look with Buck, each realizing that the telegram from Tanner and Larabee requesting their presence in the small town had been a ruse to get them down to the Mexican villa.
Dunne couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Who are these guys, Ezra?! Where's Chris and Vin?"
"Not who as much as what, Mr. Dunne. They are...television executives." The words drawled from the southerner laced with every bit of disgust and contempt he could inflect. "CBS, if I'm not mistaken."
Buck wasn't even aware of the slight movement he made forward, placing himself in a shielding position between JD and the suits.
"And I thought a snake was the devil's favorite disguise," muttered Josiah.
The blonde ignored the preacher and aimed his reply at Ezra. "You've done your homework."
"I graduated a long time ago, son. I simply make it a point to keep informed of things that may affect me."
Standish's jab at the blonde's lack of experience edged the executive's irritation farther.
The taller man, sensing this, stepped in. "It came to our attention that an action which we had put into motion had not yet fully been carried through. We're not used to this. We felt it would be beneficial for our reputations if we tried to ascertain exactly what the problem was...and take care of it."
"We couldn't care less about your 'reputations'," snapped Buck, "You still ain't answered the kid's question. Where the hell are Chris and Vin?"
The brunette appraised the tall gunslinger, "I've no idea, nor do I care...yet. We became of aware of a stratagem to separate you gentlemen. And while we don't know who instigated it or why, we decided it would be in our best interest to capitalize on it."
"We knew Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner would be...otherwise engaged. So, while the idea of a telegram that would bring at least some, if not all of you, immediately was in the works...nothing had been written. We just stepped in and took advantage of the situation."
"You shore don't pack light," Nathan pointed out, indicating the band of hired guns.
The blonde man grinned at the healer with false sincerity, "When in an unfamiliar setting it's always good to ask for assistance when necessary."
"Sound advice, sir," drawled Ezra. "I'm sure you are well practiced."
The victim of Standish's verbal strike attempted to take a step forward but a momentary touch of his colleague's firm hand held him steady.
The tall brunette checked his watch before speaking again. "I have a conference call at two, so I'll just make my point and we'll be on our way. We made a decision, said decision entails you gentlemen disbanding. Either you comply with our request or we shall be forced to take this to a higher level."
Ezra tilted his head slightly over his shoulder but kept his eyes fixed on the group in front of him. "Josiah, I thought you said they were associated with Lucifer, apparently they are affiliates of the Lord God on High, as well."
The short blonde was not used to this amount of insolence. He strode forward, stoppin g a few feet from the southerner.
"You really have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?" he spat.
Standish met the man's brown eyes with his own sharp green ones. He blinked twice slowly and waited several seconds before responding. "Oh, I know exactly who I'm dealin' with. I'm just surprised I don't feel more unimpresse d than I do."
Ezra wasn't really shocked by the blonde's reaction. He had watched the tension build in the man after each of the gambler's biting remarks. He just didn't expect it to hurt so much.
The backhanded slap threw Standish off balance, causing him to shift awkwardly to regain his footing.
"THAT...was a VERY...BIG...mistake." The soft, low voice that came from the entrance of the saloon was deadly. Every eye in the room turned to the newcomer.
At 5'4, her head barely came to the top of the bat wing doors she stood
in front of. Dressed in unlaced combat boots, a gray Baja pullover
and thermal long underwear topped with a pair of dark blue cut off sweat
shorts the figure with the fuschia colored hair was not intimidating in
the least. But the fire that lit her hazel eyes caused the blonde
man to take an
involuntary step back.
"You're not from around here, are you?" A second voice, this time from the shadows of the saloon. Judy straightened from where she had been leaning, unnoticed, against the wall. She was afraid to picture what Maria might do if anyone, other than a fanfic writer, dared to inflict harm upon a certain southern gambler.
"Definitely tourists," drawled Penny. She sat in the back corner
of the bar, sipping a margarita and absentmindedly twitching one Nike clad
foot which rested on the table in a pose that belied the seriousness of
her hazel
gaze.
"We'll be happy to show you the way out." Cassie smiled politely at the two suits and the six outlaws that flanked them.
A fifth female strolled down the staircase from the second floor of the saloon, "Cass, you are too nice."
"Took the words right outta my mouth, Kim." Maggie leaned against a supporting beam on the second floor. From her vantage point she could see everyone in the various groups below her and they, in turn, could see the hint of an evil grin playing on the brunette's lips.
"Welcome to the party, Maggie, I was hopin' you'd make an appearance."
"With guests as...fascinating as these, Mog? How could I not?" It was clear that 'fascinating' was not the word she wanted to use, but she knew this was not an NC-17 posting and curbed her verbal instinct.
The large gunman clothed in the brown serape barked a laugh. "It's a buncha girls."
But the dark-haired suit wheeled on him, "Shut up, you idiot!" he hissed. "They're not girls; they're...fans."
His blonde companion caught the hitch in his partner's voice. Any doubts he had about the women quickly dissipated. He'd heard stories in board meetings, but he'd never actually seen fans in real life. He swallowed hard, trying to shake off the anxiety that was making his breath come a little faster.
The gunman was unfazed, "So?? There's only six. Hell, my little brother could take 'em." He reached out and lightly punched the arm of a small man next to him.
"Try twelve," corrected Maria.
Again the huge man laughed. "Ooh, twice as many. I might actually have to pull my gun."
Judy heaved a sigh and shook her head. "Mog, you left off the million."
"It's a damn good thing I have you to beta me." Maria replied, rolling her eyes in self-disgust. She strolled around till she came to the mouthy cowboy. With a smart-ass smile she corrected herself, "I meant to say twelve million."
The color drained from the outlaw's face and his brows furrowed together. He shot a glance to the two suits, "You're on your own."
Kim couldn't help but laugh out loud as the six hired guns bolted for the street. "Not a very loyal following, you've got there."
Penny drained her margarita and joined Kim at the foot of the staircase. "And we do know a little something about loyal followings."
"Is there a problem here?" A rough, familiar voice drawled.
"Chris!" A huge smile broke across JD's face as he saw his hero drift through the swinging doors of the cantina followed closely by Vin.
"Hey you old war dog, nice a' ya to make an appearance." Buck tried to downplay the obvious relief he felt but couldn't quite manage it.
Chris and Vin each took up flank positions at the door, standing casually but trying to get a handle on the situation.
"Sorry we're late, fellas. We were...a little distracted." Vin shot a glance to Cassie who smiled weakly and a second up at Maggie who only offered a nonchalant shrug for an apology.
"You made it here, didn't you?" retorted the brunette.
Chris focused his attention to his men who had casually spread themselves throughout the room. "Those boys we just passed sure lit outta here in a hurry."
"Guess they really had no idea who they were dealin' with," Josiah volunteered, casually mocking the blonde man who moments earlier had been so cocky.
The blonde tried to recover his composure as he addressed the women, "This is an affair concerning ourselves and these gentlemen and since I'm sure you ladies do not wish to involve yourselves with the pitfalls of the legal ramifications of this situation perhaps you would excuse us while we..."
Judy cut him off, "These gentlemen are our concern."
"And I like pits," added Kim, flipping a pen in the air and catching it again as she looked over the two suits. Cassie noticed the evil, Maggie-like glint in the woman's eyes and realized Kim was making mental notes about the executives' descriptions.
"Not yet, Kim." Cassie warned.
The suits weren't exactly sure what the blonde was holding her friend back from, but they sensed they didn't want to find out.
Chris' eyes bore into the two strange men who shifted uneasily in the middle of the room. "I get the feelin' you boys are late for somethin'," offered the ex-gunslinger. Figuring he'd give them an easy out.
The tall man in the suit knew he was beat. He tried to match Larabee's stare but it was a weak attempt at best.
His blonde companion stared at Ezra, "This isn't over."
Penny shot a sideways glance to Kim, "First thing the suit's gotten
right so far." Then turned her attention to the blonde man, "You're right,
it's far from over."
The executives backed out of the saloon, the predatory instincts not allowing them to turn their backs on a dangerous adversary.
Cassie shared a smug expression with Maggie as the dark haired girl drifted down from her overlook position.
Buck wandered over to meet Chris, "Ya alright, pard?" he asked casually.
"Nothin' we ain't run into before," Larabee replied with a long-suffering smile. "Looks like you managed to handle everything alright."
Josiah reached over the bar of the cleared out saloon and came out with a bottle of whiskey. "Wasn't us as much as it was these fine ladies."
JD set up some glasses. He knew that while his mother probably wouldn't have approved of drinking with young women, she would have been hard pressed to give a decent reason as to why the girls hadn't earned a toast with the seven peacekeepers.
Leaning on the bar, Maggie stole Kim's pen from her and scribbled a few sentences. A second later the two girls toasted each other quietly to the group's victory. Maggs holding an Amarillo Sour and Kim, her second margarita of the day.
Maria had Ezra sitting in one of the saloon chairs making a much bigger deal out of the red mark across the left side of the gambler's face than what was necessary.
"That's gotta hurt. I've got some Advil at my house, and some pretty nice single malt Scotch. Twenty-year old Oban. We could hop over there..."
But Cassie cut her fellow writer off. "Ah-ah, mog. They stay here, those are the rules."
The corners of Maria's mouth turned down in a pout. "Well, that bites."
The southerner's gentlemanly tendencies took over as he saw the disheartened look. His hand dipped into his pocket and he withdrew his silver flask. "It's not Scotch, but perhaps it would make a suitable substitute."
The writer took the container and unscrewed the cap. "Well, like the saying goes...liquor that touches your lips will definitely touch mine."
"That's not how the it goes." Judy stated, her propensity for beta-ing verbalizing itself.
"It is now," replied Maria with a grin.
JD had resigned himself to Penny's attention, though it was pretty evident to the men he rode with she didn't have to do much more than take the drink he offered her before he sat down.
Josiah lit up a cigar and settled in with a whiskey of his own but had only taken a single drag when Nathan snuck up behind the preacher, stealing the smoke from Sanchez's fingertips.
"These things'll kill ya." He stated, not trying to hide his grin as he began to smoke it himself.
"I'll live a lot longer than you're gonna if you don't give that back."
"Hey, don't you think there's been enough in the 'high tension' department today." Cassie suggested. "Truce?" The blonde made a point to look between Maggie, Chris and Vin.
Vin LEANed against the bar, catching Maggie off guard. The brunette woman allowed a smile to show and raised her glass to the tracker. She could see a relaxed look in both Tanner's and Larabee's eyes as they took in her grin.
"Hey, it's startin' to rain." Buck stood at the entrance of the saloon looking out at the ominous gray clouds that had suddenly appeared.
Out of the corner of her eye Judy noticed Kim with pen in hand, head over the paper in front of her, writing briefly. A crack of thunder and the rain began to fall in a downpour.
"The horses!" JD exclaimed as he jumped from his seat.
"Taken care of," answered Kim as Penny yanked the young man back down into his chair.
"Guess we're stuck here for awhile," Judy observed, trying to sound as if she wasn't surprised by the sudden change in the weather.
Chris shook his head with a smile, "Imagine that."
fin
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