Ezra pulled in and nearly forgot to come to a complete standstill when he saw what was leaning against the outside wall of the garage. He had to brake hard as the house wall loomed in front of him, and winced as the hood gently kissed the bricks before rolling back. John had said he'd found his own transport, but *this*? He reached for the bags of groceries in the back of the car then paused to stare at the scraped and scratched motorcycle.
"You bought *that*?" he muttered, "You're seriously telling me that with one and a half hundred thousand dollars *that's* the toy you pick to play with?" He shook his head in bemusement. The boy was clearly going to have to be educated on the finer things in life. And he probably ought to suggest that the kid invest some of it instead of shelling out what undoubtedly had been too much money on a wreck. He grappled with the half dozen heavy bags of beers and snacks, hauling them out of the back seat and slamming the door.
He dumped them by the front door and walked back to check the car's paintwork, peering with minute attention at the hood from two or three inches away, tilting and twisting his head to spot any scratches on the rich black sheen. Finally satisfied that it was not in fact damaged he headed back to the house, juggling bags and keys, and elbowed the door open with some difficulty.
A blast of sound hit his ears and he winced. The bombastic music and repetitive stutter of guns sounded almost like a war film, but the dialogue was even more stilted and unimaginative than the usual run. The booms and whines of bombs shook the house, the biggest rumblings settling in his ribcage and physically shaking him.
"Saving Private Dunne," he muttered darkly and yelled, "John? JD!" No one came to help. John, presuming it was John that was the cause of the racket that had taken over his quiet abode, almost certainly could not even hear him. He dragged the bags into the kitchen and abandoned them, following his ears to the source of the sound.
"Good Lord."
His living room had been transformed from something elegant in minimalist creams and beiges with an occasional accent of deep red to add warmth and interest, to some mad scientist's vision of death trap by wire. Cables stretched everywhere, and in the middle of it all, like a long legged, dark haired spider in its web, lay JD. Nothing would persuade him that the boy sprawled out on his stomach, feet waving in the air, and a death grip on some enormous joystick, pounding on buttons and dragging it back and forth, swearing and cheering the improbably proportioned figures on the screen on by turns, was anything other than 'JD', aged perhaps, at a stretch, eight.
"JD?"
A spaceship blew up and the screen whirled dizzyingly as JD performed a victory roll, whooping with joy.
"Eat my dust, space scum!"
Ezra cleared his throat, and JD twisted his neck in an alarming fashion. "Oh, hey Ez, you're back!" The screen froze and he pulled his knees up under him. In the same move he knelt up, grabbed Ezra's tie and pulled him down to his lips. Ezra revised the age back up to twenty-two, with an option on 'more experienced than is good for my sanity or self-control.'.
"Missed ya." He kissed him again. "Didya see the wheels? Way cool, huh?" Ezra gave up and knelt, and gave back as good as he got. He was just considering the possibility of making it three for three and simply tumbling JD to the floor and (wires or no wires) taking him where he lay when a raucous whoop filled the room.
"Gooooooo Standish!" Buck cheered. Ezra rocketed to his feet, hand halfway to his gun, pushing JD to the ground behind him before he recognised the man's voice through the haze of blinding want.
"Goddammit, Wilmington," he blazed uncharacteristically, and Buck stepped back his hands in the air.
"No harm, no foul. Just thought we'd drop by a little early."
"The agreed time was eight," Ezra snapped.
"Hey, sorry guys, I'll pick this all up in a minute." JD scooped the cables and joystick together and bundled them all on top of Ezra's television, then forced the television cabinet door shut. "Tada!" He turned round and grinned at Ezra. "No fuss, no muss."
"Brat." Ezra shook his head, smiling at him. JD was barefoot. The remains of what he suspected had been the tub of extremely expensive chocolate ice cream were lingering around his mouth, and his hair was lying every which way. He looked edible.
"Jesus Christ, Standish, what is he, twelve!" Buck blurted, staring.
"Twenty-two, actually," JD said mildly. He wrapped his hand around Ezra's wrist as he tensed.
"Yeah, and I'm the pope's maiden aunt," Buck jeered.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," JD said, straight faced, and Ezra grinned. He heard muffled snickers and looked at the door to discover the rest of his team mates cautiously lurking by the entrance. He shook his head. One thing at a time.
"JD Dunne, Buck Wilmington," he introduced them, and Buck frowned.
"This is John?" Ezra wondered who else Buck thought he was going to be embracing after the discussions and taunts of the last two days.
"JD, if you don't mind," JD said firmly. Ezra's grin softened, although he kept his eyes on the man in front of him, and the little covey of colleagues lurking in the doorway in a vain attempt at looking inconspicuous and nonchalant.
"This is the guy you went twice around Denver looking for the right ice cream for?" Buck's voice was incredulous.
"Really?" JD asked Ezra with interest, and he shook his head.
"Just down to the gelato place on Ninth."
"*Really*?" JD threw a guilty look at the waste paper bin and wiped nervously at his mouth.
"You missed some," Ezra told him dryly, and his face reddened.
"Hey, I thought you guys were coming later. Or I'd'a been you know, uh--"
"Dressed?" Ezra asked with acid amusement.
JD leaned forward and whispered in Ezra's ear, "It could have been worse. I *was* thinking about going for a repeat of last night. Y'know, with the coffee table instead of the kitchen table? Maybe getting ready for you first..."
Ezra's cheekbones stained with red, but he made no other indication of how attractive and in the circumstances, terrifying that particular notion was.
They were both startled when Buck's voice broke in. "No way is that kid legal! Christ, Ez, what the hell were you thinking?" He looked JD up and down, and the kid flushed with embarrassment and stepped closer to Ezra. "Never mind, I can guess what you were thinking *with*." He gave Ezra a contemptuous look. "How the hell did you think we could condone--"
John was shrinking into himself next to him, and Ezra was abruptly furious. He interrupted him before the man could say anything worse than he already had. "I cannot tell you how delighted I am by your obliging assessment of my character and morals, Mr. Wilmington. I am amazed you can bear to be in a room with a man like me. Allow me to rectify that. The door is behind you," he finished coolly, then spoiled it by adding, "Do you truly believe that I would be capable of --" he stopped, disgusted.
"No -- I, but dammit, Ezra, *look* at him."
There was stony silence as all eyes fixed on JD, who slipped his hand into Ezra's, which gripped back just as fiercely.
JD gritted his teeth. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He'd hoped that he looked old enough for it not to happen again, but clearly he'd been wrong. He scowled. The comments of the guests at Donna's auction two days ago should have warned him. Ezra was his main concern right now. The man's death grip on his hand was cutting off circulation, and was worrying him.
"Ignore them, babe," JD murmured. then turned to the four other men standing uncomfortably at the door. "Look, I really am twenty-two," JD said quietly to the four behind Wilmington, ignoring the big man completely. "If you don't believe me, my wallet's in my pocket. I'm a grad student at Denver State. I've been there for nearly seven years, until my mother died."
"I heard about that," Nathan said sympathetically, "I'm sorry for your loss. Ezra said it was cancer?"
JD shrugged. "Yeah." He glanced around the room, slid his free hand into his pocket and tossed his wallet onto the coffee table. "Look, you guys, you know, make your minds up or whatever. Ez, I need your help in the kitchen." He pulled on Ezra's hand until he followed him through the silently parting men and out of the room.
The silence grew, until Buck stalked over to pick up the kid's wallet and opened it. He pulled out a driver's licence, then a student ID.
"Well?" He didn't look up to meet Larabee's eyes.
"September eighteen, nineteen eighty one." He slid both items back and laid the battered leather back on the table. "Damn."
"One day, you'll think before opening your mouth, won't you, Buck."
"The kid doesn't look a day over fifteen, come on now, does he?"
"Ezra told ya he was old enough. You pretty much told him he was a liar, and a bunch of other things that I wouldn't have taken half as well as Ez did," Tanner observed coldly.
"I thought better of you, Buck," Josiah said, disappointed. "I believe you owe both young men an apology. John is important to our solitary friend. I think we should at least extend them the courtesy that nearly two years of friendship are due."
Buck reddened, his eyes still on the wallet. "I know. He just -- he looks so damned young!" He shook his head and looked up. "I was just -- I wasn't expecting-- oh, hell, you know me. I open my mouth and any old shit comes out."
"Gonna do that once too often one day, Buck," Tanner said quietly. "Ez ain't gonna just sit and take that kinda thing. No man could."
"You pretty much called him a pedophile," Nathan agreed and Buck's blush intensified.
"Maybe I went a little too far," Buck admitted.
"Don't tell us," Tanner said abruptly. "Try telling them."
--------------------------------------------
JD really liked the way Ezra smelled. It probably wasn't the moment to ask him what it was that made him so edible, but nonetheless, it was pretty much all he could think about with the man wrapped up in his arms, as tense as he could be. Maybe it was natural. Adrenaline pumping out sweat and pheromones. He repressed the urge to burrow his nose into the man's neck, maybe into his pits just to get a real good breath of him.
"John, are you even listening to me?"
"Oh yes. Er."
Ezra's shoulders shook. "Charmed as I am that you find me so distracting, perhaps we could return to the subject?"
JD shrugged. "They're being assholes. That Buck guy's a jerk. I've heard it all before, it ain't true and we might as well let it go."
"Admirably succinct. However, having made our retreat out here, we are now faced with the problem of going back inside without anyone losing face."
"You worry too much Ez. We can just take in the beers. No one'll care *what* we were doing then." He grinned when Ezra laughed ruefully.
"You've the right of that, darlin'."
JD hugged him tightly to him, and Ezra's tension eased a little. "Besides, I reckon they're tearing strips off of him in there."
"Excuse me?"
"You saw their faces, right?"
"I. They seemed most displeased." He frowned, wondering how the hell they were going to fix this.
"They weren't looking at you, you doofus." JD shook him slightly. "They were looking at that brain dead lump."
Ezra pulled away and looked at him with some amusement. "I know."
"If you knew what are we doing out here?"
Ezra smirked, and raised a hand to his face. "Object lesson," he said cryptically. He slid his hand through JD's hair and cupped the back of his head. "Wanna play?"
"Just how far are you planning on taking the object lesson," he asked, grinning. He only had to move his lips a fraction of an inch and they were resting against Ezra's, so close that as he spoke his lips moved against his, and his breath warmed his skin.
"Why don't we see how far they let us," he murmured, and they kissed.
Kissing Ezra was like nothing else, like nobody else. They were the same height, very much the same build, but Ezra seemed slight and fine boned in his embrace, for all the hard muscles of his shoulders and back, and JD felt almost large and clumsy next to the man's grace and tightly controlled strength. He nuzzled at his cheek, exploring the slanted cheekbones, then trailing back across his nose and down to his lips again. Ezra's skin was soft and tasted of aftershave and salt, some kind of spicy flavor that was sharp and fresh and warming. It was completely smooth, his face moved easily without the burn of stubble that he had expected at the end of a long day. Maybe he'd shaved before coming home.
The thought warmed him, even as he wondered when he'd started thinking of here as 'home'. He pressed closer, letting that warmth settle at the foot of his spine and tremble all the way up and dabbing little licks and kisses along Ez's lips until Ezra bit down on his tongue, trapping it. He stroked Ezra's tongue, and smiled as he fought back and they played, his mind gone, the world gone, everything narrowed down to Ezra's hands, Ezra's lips, Ezra's body. Ezra.
He moaned the name out and felt a smile pull at his lover's lips, and the arms around him pulled him harder into his firm body, so close that he staggered. Immediately a thigh slid between his legs, taking instant advantage of his momentary lack of balance. He pushed forwards, rubbing his hardening shaft over the warm strength of sleek muscles.
A hand carded through his hair, and he moaned deep in his throat as it stroked his head, over and over, forcing the kiss deeper and deeper.
"Ahem?"
They were both breathing hard. He could feel Ezra's chest expanding and contracting rapidly under his arms. He gripped at his back, then stroked firmly up and down his flanks, pulling him in closer with each sweep. Gasping for air he rested his face against Ezra's, and tried to bite back a helpless, "Oh god," as Ezra took the exposure of his neck as an opportunity to nuzzle, nip, bite and suckle his way down the line of his throat. He sank his teeth into JD's shoulder where it met his neck, and JD jerked forwards into his body.
"Excuse me?"
A pair of hands dragged down his back into his pants and gripped his ass cheeks hard. JD rocked eagerly between the leg spreading his wide, and the hands pulling his ass open. He turned his face into Ezra's neck and kissed him, pulling away enough that the man had to let go and they stared into each other's eyes, passion fading from an inferno to a mere blaze, and mischief filling both expressions. JD leaned his forehead against Ezra's and then they both tilted their heads to look at the scarlet faced man trying to interrupt them.
"Yes?" They said as one, impatience in their voices.
Buck stuck his hand in his waistband, tugging nervously as he looked at the two of them. Neither man's eyes gave him any reason to feel optimistic. Ezra's was completely blank, and the kid's -- JD's, John's whatever his name was, was only too readable, an odd mix of anger and wary appraisal.
"Come on, Ez, you know me, I didn't mean anything by it." He met each pair of eyes in turn, hooded green and open hazel. "Ez?"
"John?"
The kid shrugged, still wrapped in the circle of Ezra's arms and Buck looked properly at him. The kid's hands were bunched in Ezra's shirt, he could see white knuckles betraying that the boy wasn't as calm as he was trying to appear. "Was you he was saying stuff about. I'm used to people thinking I ain't old enough."
Buck ducked his head uncomfortably. "Sorry, Ez. You know how I get."
The kid's eyes were steady on him and he shifted uneasily, perching himself on the edge of the kitchen table. "Look, kid--"
"JD."
"JD. I was just kinda--" he shook his head, trying to find the word.
"Surprised?"
"Disconcerted?"
"Stupid?"
"Antediluvian?"
"Dumb?"
"Yeah." Rerunning the rapid-fire words he looked up and caught the two men smirking at each other. "Hey!"
JD laughed and after a moment Ezra's face lightened. Buck sighed with relief. "I'm sorry, guys." He stuck out a hand. "Start over?"
"I strongly advise against--" Ezra tried to warn his friend, but too late. JD took Buck's hand and suddenly found himself the victim of an attempted noogie.
JD yanked himself away from the laughing man, and glared at Ezra. "Next time, warn a guy."
"You may recall, I did try--" he tried to cover himself and JD just grinned evilly.
"You'll get yours later, Standish."
Buck looked from one to the other and started snickering. "Ez, I think this is going to work out just fine."
"You too." JD warned the big man, with no apparent awareness of the eight inches or so height difference between them.
"Hey, I hope not!" Ez said mischievously, and JD's eyebrows shot up.
"I can't imagine what you think I was planning on doing to you..." He slid a hand down from Ezra's shirt into the back of his pants.
"Whoa!" Buck put a hand over his eyes and held the other out imploringly, "Guys, please, straight boy in the room. Does *not* need to know."
"You? A prude, Mr. Wilmington? I never realized your sensibilities were so refined." Ezra said coolly.
Buck lifted his hand away from his eyes and looked narrowly at him. "Don't push it." He glanced at JD's wrist, all that was visible above Ezra's waistband. "That goes for you too. Kid."
JD grinned and pulled his hand out. "I'd shake, only you'd probably rather I didn't," he said helpfully, then collapsed into giggles.
Ezra looked at him. Looked at Buck. Drew a very deep breath, and as JD headed to the sink to wash his hands, said politely to Buck, "If you would care to assist me with the bags we can perhaps arrange the comestibles and beverages for our colleagues."
Buck grinned and reached for a bag. "Sure. Hey, kid! Get one of those bags wouldya?"
JD scowled at him, drying his hands on his sweats, "Get it yourself."
"John..."
JD's lips thinned, but he got the bag and lifted it to the table with a grunt. "What've you *got* in there."
The clinking made Buck's comment almost unnecessary. "Beer, boy." He lifted a bottle out and looked at it critically. "Too warm. Needs to go in the fridge for half an hour."
JD rolled his eyes but hoisted the heavy bag over to the huge refrigerator, and started unpacking the bottles into the shelves.
"Beer!" An unfamiliar voice called out with the kind of triumph normally reserved for finding the Lost City of El Dorado.
JD looked around at the shout and discovered that the kitchen was suddenly full of tall men, who were rummaging through bags, breaking out snacks or in one case peering over his shoulder at the beer.
"Ain't cold enough," Buck said firmly to the brown haired man staring mournfully over JD's shoulder into the fridge. "You let the boy put it away, and you can have some later."
The man slapped JD on the back. He wasn't much taller than him, but built on bony lines, his hair curling almost to his shoulders. "Close it up, kid," he told him cheerfully, "Sooner it's cold, sooner we get to drink."
JD pulled the last few bottles and shut the door.
"Good man." The man grinned at him and stuck a hand out. "Vin Tanner."
"JD Dunne," JD said, shaking Tanner's hand.
"Guess Ez told you all about us," Tanner asked.
JD shrugged. "Didn't say much. Think he wanted me to make up my own mind."
"Very wise," a deep voice rumbled from behind him. He turned and looked up, and up. "Josiah Sanchez. Ezra has said good things about you."
"He has?" JD glanced over at Ezra who was watching with a look that seemed somewhere between disinterested curiosity and panic.
Josiah smiled suddenly. It was not an entirely comforting look. "By their fruits shall ye know them." He nodded as though well content with this thought, and turned back to the table. "Brother, not *hostess* cakes?"
Ezra actually reddened even as Tanner whooped and dived for the sweet stuff. He glanced over at JD, who read his intention and smiled back shyly, and nodded.
"Mr. Tanner, I did not purchase those repulsive pieces of pseudo-bakery for *you*." He winked at JD who edged round the kitchen to Ezra's side. He looked around, taking in the men rummaging through the bags on the table, Jackson tutting over something, Tanner and Wilmington squabbling good naturedly. His mind slipped to what they had done the previous day on that very table, and he cursed himself as his fair skin reddened. Ezra's hand -- at least, he hoped it was Ezra's hand, rubbed at the small of his back.
That left just Larabee, and he looked around to find a pair of pale eyes studying him coolly. That had to be him. He smiled tentatively and the man inclined his head slightly, then deliberately looked away. JD breathed a silent sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was those eyes reading his every thought. He stayed quiet, watching the others interacting.
Wilmington was trying to steal one of the chocolate brownies, while Tanner was trying to make a break from the table with the whole packet, but was repeatedly foiled by Buck's quick steps until Wilmington stumbled and Tanner split, diving for the door triumphantly clutching the battered packet. Wilmington scowled at the quietly smirking blond who had tripped him.
"No mercy, Larabee," he pointed accusingly at him. "I feel lucky tonight. No mercy!"
Ezra cleared his throat slightly. "On that, ah, point, it behooves me to mention that JD has not long been acquainted with the fine art of poker."
"Damn, Ez," Buck said with a smirk, "guess you've been finding some other games to play with the kid?"
JD blushed red.
"Don't worry, we'll take it easy on you," he added with a wide grin. "Imagine that," he added, staring up at the ceiling innocently, "Ezra dating a card virgin..."
"Buck..." the blond guy growled, and Wilmington subsided.
"No harm, no foul, right?" He looked around and grabbed an armful of chips and mini pretzels. "I'll go put these out."
"Old fool never knows when to quit," the blond said with a faint smile. "Chris Larabee."
"JD Dunne," JD said, wide eyed, shaking the man's hand fervently.
"Been looking forward to this evening," Larabee added, his eyes glinting with something like amusement. "Haven't I, Standish."
"No doubt with bated breath, Mr. Larabee."
He turned to follow his men back out into the living room, then paused by the door and spoke without turning his head. "Go easy on Buck, Ez."
"I have no idea what you could mean, Mr. Larabee," Ezra said with an evil grin.
"I know you. Don't forget that."
JD scooped up the remaining packages and was about to follow when Ezra murmured, "Just a moment."
"Sure. Whassup?" He turned and smiled at Ezra.
Ezra surveyed him closely, then smiled. "You'll do just fine. Just remember to calculate the odds, and bet to win on anything where you are reasonably certain your hand exceeds theirs."
"And yours?"
"Don't worry about mine." Ezra grinned wickedly. "I think Mr. Wilmington needs a little education in the finer points of probability theory."
JD frowned. Did he mean he was going to throw the game if JD had a winning hand? But... "How are you going to know what I've got?"
"Trust me, darlin'," Ezra said very softly, and JD nodded instantly.
"I do, Ez."
"I know." They kissed again, the lightest of touches, and parted as a yell from Buck echoed through the house.
"Standish! Get in here and leave the kid alone!"
"Ready, Mr. Dunne?"
"Ready, Mr. Standish," JD grinned.
"And JD, for god's sake -- we bet in *dollars*!"
--------------------------------------------
JD scowled furiously at his hand. He'd blithely assured Ezra that calculating the odds for seven players was no different than for two. And in theory, the odds were actually *better* for him, as he was looking at a one in six, discounting Ez's hand, as opposed to one in seven that everyone else was facing. But the complexity of the sums was starting to tax even his abilities.
"Call, fold or play," Buck asked, in the tones of a man who thought that humoring the children was only going to lead to trouble.
"Um." He pushed a couple of his chips in to match the bidding. "I think that's what I want to do."
Buck groaned, but didn't say a word. It didn't matter. JD could almost hear the 'whose idea was it to allow the boy to play with the adults' comment anyway.
He closed his eyes as they went around again. Larabee's hand was going to win, unless something drastic happened. But Jackson was going to call. He smiled and opened his eyes again, looking first at Larabee, then Jackson, then Ezra. Ezra's eyes crinkled in an almost invisible smile. He'd got it right. He relaxed visibly, and Ezra started to laugh as the others looked at JD warily.
JD blushed and stared at his hand. The only way he would win was if Larabee folded. He had no idea that the rest of the men were watching him narrowly, and assumed that the exchange meant JD had a winning hand.
"So, you known Ez long?" Buck asked, blithely anteing up again.
"A while." JD shrugged, and Buck tried again.
"So, you're a student? I had a hell of a time when I was at Denver State," he grinned reminiscently, and there were groans around the table.
"Don't listen to him, kid," Nathan said with a friendly grin, "It's all lies."
"I'm wounded!" Buck chuckled, and then smiled reminiscently, "Ah, to be eighteen again." An elbow jabbed into his ribs, and he added, "Or twenty two, or-- Chris, you playing or not?"
Larabee shook his head. "I'm out." He nodded to Ezra.
"I believe I too shall retire from the lists." He smiled at his cards and laid them down.
"What are you studying?" Josiah asked quietly.
JD looked at him, "Um. AI."
"Really? Deep Blue sort of thing?" Jackson asked curiously, and pushed a couple of chips into the center.
"Nah. That's not really AI. It's not capable of passing the Turing test. Deep Blue was manually configured to respond to specific moves. It could make choices, but basically Kasparov was playing six computer techs and three grand masters. And it still only beat him once. I'm more interested in building things that learn for themselves. Give them a set of rules for the universe and let them apply them to their surroundings and events in their surroundings." He grinned deprecatingly. "Mostly they're learning to navigate Troy mazes at the moment."
He looked up to find six pairs of eyes on him. "Theoretically. It's all modeled in my computer at the moment. But it ought to work in the real world too."
"It sounds," Sanchez paused, possibly unintentionally, "fascinating."
"Is that the next step when you go back?" Ezra rescued him. "Building the real things?"
"Yeah."
"JD left school to look after his mother," Ezra told the others.
"Yeah," JD agreed, eyes still on the table. "Um. I call." He lost, and Nathan scooped the pot with a big grin.
"How did you guys meet?" Nathan cut the cards and started dealing.
"A bar."
"A nightclub."
The two of them looked at each other and Ezra smiled. "It was a long time ago, at the Blue Moon."
"Yeah," JD agreed, wondering if he should elaborate or just stick to monosyllables. The monosyllables were working pretty well. Especially with Chris Larabee's eyes on him, looking as though they could see every bad thing he had ever done, right back to tying Ms Prentice's boot laces together in Kindergarten. While she was wearing them. "Just before Christmas."
Ezra nodded. "Indeed."
Shit. Maybe Ez wanted him to do the next bit. Had they ever agreed the next bit? "I tripped over and dropped my drink all over this guy," JD colored. Larabee wasn't believing a word of it, he just knew it. "And--"
"And after I had thoroughly castigated him for damaging my suit, he bought me another drink." Ezra shrugged, lightly, ignoring the incredulous stares of his team mates.
"You killed one of Ezra's suits and he's still talking to you?" Buck asked.
JD swallowed. "Um." Stick to monosyllables. "Yeah." He could hear his heart pounding, and his hands were sweating. God, this was a *terrible* idea.
"You ride?" Larabee derailed the entire conversation, and JD gaped at him blankly before nodding, eternally grateful.
"Yeah."
"The Kawasaki outside yours?"
"Yeah," he smiled at Tanner, who had finally asked a safe question, and moreover, had recognised the machine despite its state of disrepair. "I'm gonna fix her up, but she runs just fine. I stripped out the engine two years ago, right down to the wires, she doesn't look like much, but I can get a hell of a turn out of her." He stopped dead, and hastily added, "On race tracks. Not on roads. I wouldn't race her on a road."
"Relax, we're not the State Patrol, kid," Larabee drawled.
"You race?" Ezra said blankly.
"Oh. Um. I guess I didn't mention that, huh?" JD said woodenly, and winced as the others exchanged glances.
"Well, you all know my opinion of those things," Nathan said, and Tanner rolled his eyes.
"Death machines. Donor cycles. I keep telling him, it's not the bikes, it's the other idiots on the road."
JD nodded. "Yeah, yeah. People just don't look for bikes, if you ain't an SUV you might as well not exist."
"SUV's!" Tanner muttered. He threw a glare at Larabee. "Honking great gas guzzling environment killers."
Larabee merely smirked. "A/C, Tanner. A/C."
"Who needs that if you're on a bike, right?" Tanner winked at JD, who grinned at him.
"Right."
Sanchez smiled, "Brothers, I am feeling lucky. Call." He scowled when JD's hand full house in queens won. "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away," he sighed, and smiled at JD, who was trying to watch all of them. It was easier for them. Each of them only had to watch one person. He was trying to keep track of six.
"Your deal," Ezra said calmly, and slid him the deck.
JD panicked momentarily, then kept his eyes down, copying what the others had done.
"When did you leave New York?" Sanchez asked casually, and JD dropped his cards, and had to scrabble for them on the floor.
"I -- uh, we moved when I was twelve."
"Ah," the big man nodded thoughtfully. "That would explain the faintness of the accent."
"You can hear it still?" JD asked incredulously. "But I've lived all over since then."
"Just call him Professor Higgins," Ezra said deadpan, and JD giggled, then shut up when no one else laughed.
"Did you spend some time in England?"
"I had two years there for my first graduate degree. Can you hear that too?"
Josiah nodded, but Jackson spoke next. "Really, which school?"
"Imperial," he took in the blank looks. "It's part of the University of London." He took in the further blank looks. "It's up there for math and engineering."
"When was that?"
JD shrugged. "Three years ago." There was a brief silence.
"You went out three years ago?" Buck frowned.
"I came back three years ago." He looked round. Ezra and Tanner were grinning. So was Sanchez. He couldn't read Larabee or Jackson, and Buck looked like he was dying to call him a liar. "Really."
"You went to England at nineteen to do a graduate degree?"
JD shook his head. "Seventeen. Two year course."
"And they let you?" Buck said incredulously.
"Why wouldn't they?"
Buck had no answer to that which would not result in Ezra getting even angrier at him. And as he had yet to win a hand this evening anyway, he kept his mouth shut. He was pretty certain the two things were not unrelated. He looked in puzzlement at his hand. The cards weren't fantastic, but it was a reasonable set. With his hole card he could make a respectable showing of a full house in tens. But the betting was all wrong.
Chris had dropped out two rounds ago, smirking faintly. Ezra had folded this hand, as had Jackson, who looked like a man who knew a joke too crude to share, but too funny to be able to stay sober.
It was just him, the preacher, Tanner, and the kid.
The kid's turn, and he glanced at Ezra who smiled.
"Don't look at me, John, look at your cards," he encouraged neutrally. Buck eyed them both closely. There didn't seem to be any kind of secret communication going on. They weren't sitting close enough to touch, not even to play footsie under the table. JD's eyes dropped back to his cards and he seemed about to speak, then looked back at his lover.
"I, uh, call?"
Ezra nodded, and Buck's heart sank like a stone at the malicious sparkle in his green eyes.
He'd been *had*.
He didn't need to see the cards turn over.
He sat back and shook his head. "How the hell do you *do* that?" What he wanted to ask, badly, was whether the kid had really never played before yesterday, but he figured he'd already used up his allotment of really offensive questions for the night.
"Um." JD looked at Ezra again, who nodded encouragingly. "We were saying about me being um, a grad student?"
"In robots and stuff, right?" Buck didn't get it. Unlike several of his team mates, apparently. Jackson groaned and put a hand over his face. Sanchez merely grinned and laid his hand down. Larabee was still smirking, and Tanner, damn his black little heart was chuckling under his breath.
"Um," the kid stared at his hands nervously. "I kinda do, that is, one of the things I spend a lot of time on, is sort of. Well."
"Probability."
"Yeah." JD smiled at Buck, now that Ezra had made the actual revelation for him. "It's a big part of the networks I'm trying to build in my AI program. And I'm kinda, well, you know. Good at figuring odds. And remembering stuff."
Buck just shook his head. "You're telling me you never played before yesterday. And you out played us?"
"Well, not all of you." JD said incautiously, and then snapped his mouth shut. "Er."
"I knew John's capabilities, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra intervened smoothly. "You, on the other hand, grossly underestimated them."
"You -- you." He glared. "You *played* me." He spat the word out like it left a bad taste in his mouth.
"I allowed you to behave according to your preconceptions." Ezra smiled toothily. "May I interest anyone in a further game of chance?"
"Gotta say, Ez, that was a damn fine game," Tanner said with an amused grin, and nodded at JD. "You too, kid."
JD smiled brilliantly back, "Which one?"
"Oh, both of 'em." Larabee said laconically. "Is there more beer?"
JD bounced to his feet, ignoring Ezra's resigned look, "I'll get 'em. Y'all want one?"
A general chorus of yeses and he nodded. "Back in a sec."
There was a brief silence as the six men waited for someone else to speak first. In the end, Ezra gave in.
"Well, gentlemen?"
Larabee's lips twitched in a half smile. "He'll do." And then there was no chance to say anything more, as the kid swept back in, bottles clutched in hands and under arms.
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