Fides

Raven

JD yawned, and gave up on trying to get back to sleep, and reluctantly attempted to slip out of bed. First though, he had to unwrap Ezra's limpet grip on his waist, and with a silent giggle tucked his pillow into Ezra's embrace. He stood watching as watching as Ezra grunted and hugged the pillow tightly. Faint lines deepened on his forehead, and JD leaned down, running a hand over his hair.

"Shh, go to sleep," he said softly, and the tension eased from Ezra's face even as one eye opened. "Can't do a damn thing I ask you, can you?" JD teased and laughed as Ezra pouted. "Go on, it's six am, go back to sleep."

Ezra's head lifted briefly to look at the clock, and a look of horror crossed his face before he burrowed back down under the covers until only a hint of hair peeked out.

Laughing under his breath, JD headed into the bathroom to get cleaned up. The laughter faded as he looked in the mirror, and he remembered. Ezra was going undercover -- and hadn't told him. He'd waited all evening, and he hadn't said a word. What did that mean? Didn't Ezra trust him?

A shiver ran down his back, and he gritted his teeth. Ezra had said he loved him. It would work out. It had to.

Maybe Ez had a plan. Maybe he was planning to tell him today, or tomorrow, or maybe the details weren't as final as Wilmington had managed to make them sound and Ez just didn't want to worry him until he had something definite to say. Maybe -- He stopped and drew a deep breath. Maybe he should stop panicking until he knew what was going to happen.

He made himself breakfast as quietly as he could, then poured a second mug of coffee and took it upstairs to see if Ezra wanted it. From the indecipherable grunt from beneath the comforter he rather suspected that Ezra wished he hadn't bothered, but he left the cup on the bedside table anyway. He peered outside as he got dressed. The dawn sun was starting to streak a cloudless sky, and it looked like being a beautiful day. He grabbed his keys, his radio and the newly bought bike repair kit, and headed out to work on the Kawasaki, determined not to think at all if humanly possible.

He shivered as the door closed behind him and he walked around the jag to his machine. It was cold, and he wished he'd thought to bring some gloves outside as well as the sweater that he had pulled on as an afterthought. Still, once he got going he'd probably be warm enough. He took a sip of his coffee, breathing in deep, and savored the warmth of the steam on his face.

He could actually hear the wind in the trees, and the sounds of birds chirping, and he shook his head. It really was amazingly peaceful out here, he thought, then shook his head. At half six in the morning, even middle of downtown would be quiet. He yawned again, and put the mug down out of the way, and settled in to give his bike a thorough look-see.

It didn't take him long to decide that Frank had done as little as possible to her over the ten months that he'd owned her for. The accumulated grime was a clear indicator, and so was the thick sludge that had caked where oil had been allowed to sit on the engine. He sighed, but stripped the bike down anyway to have a good look. He was elbows deep in grease, his sweater lying where he'd thrown it on the hood of the jag by the time his concentration was so deep he was blindsided by the thought: he could be killed.

His stomach tightened, and his earlier coffee churned unpleasantly. He'd watched last night as Ezra disappeared into the study, coming back with his jacket hanging from his hand, and no sign of the holster or the gun he couldn't stop thinking about.

Ezra had looked quizzically at him, but he'd just shaken his head and smiled, trying to brush it off as nothing. He stopped, staring blindly at nothing. The gun was scary. He'd known, in theory, that Ezra carried. Had known, he supposed, that those five other men who'd cheerfully accepted him the week before must also carry guns.

They were cops. Federal agents. Whatever. Cops carried guns. Because the bad guys carried guns.... He drew a deep breath. He could deal. It was just, just getting used to the idea.

He'd looked up stats yesterday afternoon after lunch with Buck, instead of working on the data from his simulation. Most cops didn't ever pull their guns. ATF agents who were killed in the line of duty were in single figures, most years.

Chances were, Ezra only really ever used his gun at the range. Chances were, he'd never fired a shot intended to hit a living human being. Chances were, he was going into some situation where everyone was armed, and everyone around him would kill him as soon as look as him if they found out that he wasn't one of them.

God. To think he'd actually thought being a fed was 'cool'. He felt sick to his stomach, imagining the phone call, wondering if it would be some anonymous hospital clerk, or if one of the team would phone and say, 'I'm sorry--'

If anyone would call at all.

The roar of an engine interrupted his thoughts, and he turned with real relief.

"Oh wow." He stood and wiped his hands on an oil-stained cloth, staring at the motorcycle that pulled in. The biker pulled off his helmet and grinned at him.

"Hey, kid."

"She's gorgeous," JD said, walking slowly around the '58 Harley. Vin Tanner laughed, apparently untroubled by JD's complete lack of manners.

"She's not so bad. Still got a way to go with her."

"You don't take her out dirt biking?" JD said in sudden horror eyes snapping up to met the laughing blue ones.

"Nah." He patted the black, red and silver bike affectionately. "Figured since we were going up back on the horses I could take her for a spin and leave her here. Thought you might like to meet her." He swung his leg over the bike, then perched on the saddle. He nodded at the partially dismembered Kawasaki, "Doesn't look like you're going anywhere soon on her."

JD shrugged. "I can put her back together in about half an hour," he said, and lifted a gleaming piece up into position, then struggled to hold it in place as he reached for a screwdriver.

Vin watched for a moment then as it slipped bent down to help hold it up as JD edged it back into position.

JD flashed him a quick grin as he snapped the retaining clip into place, then scrabbled for the screwdriver, and poked gingerly through the little heap of screws and clips on the ground for the right ones. "Thanks. Can you--"

"Try that," Tanner picked one out at the same moment as JD found its pair. They grinned at each other. "You got another screwdriver?"

JD nodded. "Toolbox." Tanner made a long arm and dragged the metal box closer to him, then rummaged inside.

"New." Vin's tone held a question, and JD nodded.

"Guy who sold me back the bike didn't want to sell me the kit I'd built. Said if I could afford to unload cash on this old rice rocket, I could afford a new kit." He scowled. "Took me years to get that kit together."

"Bummer," Vin sympathized. "Still, all new kit, sometimes worth it."

JD sighed shortly. "I guess. I just miss some of 'em." He ducked his head and mentally kicked himself. Stupid. Getting sentimental over stuff. Vin was going to think he was some kind of whiny, stupid kid. "Got used to their tricks, you know."

Vin nodded as he positioned a screw and swiftly set it deep into its socket. "Know what you mean. Hate using other people's kit when I'm out racing." He shrugged a little ruefully. "Kinda superstitious I guess but--"

JD smiled at him, "Yeah, I know." Tanner smiled back, and JD relaxed a little. Okay, the guy didn't think he was stupid. Tanner got it too.

"What ya doin'?" Tanner asked before he could query it, and JD let it go.

"Basically, just looking her over, you know? Frank -- he's the guy I sold her to -- anyway, he had her for best part of a year. I wanted to see what he'd done with her."

"And?" Vin ran his eyes over the machine speculatively.

JD rolled his eyes. "She's running okay," he conceded reluctantly, "but look at this." He scraped his screwdriver through the muck. Some of it cracked and crumbled off, and some parted, showing dull grey metal underneath it, but most of it stayed a solid, matt black.

"Huh. Still, it's not a performance killer," Vin pointed out.

"Nah, but, she's my ride, you know?" He looked pointedly at the Harley which, while not exactly cherry, was immaculately clean. Tanner nodded.

"Want a hand?"

"Gonna be dirty."

Vin grinned at him and held up hands that were already smeared with black. "If I minded I'd'a still been in bed."

JD laughed, and glanced back at the house.

"I'm betting nine at the earliest," Vin said, and JD grinned.

"You reckon that early?"

Vin looked slyly at him. "Sure. He ain't got no added inducement to stay in bed this mornin'."

JD reddened and smiled, pleased but still embarrassed.

They worked in silence for a while, until JD was startled by the sound of Vin's stomach rumbling.

"God, I'm sorry, did you eat breakfast -- do you want something? I shoulda asked you sooner, man, I'm such an idiot." He scrambled to his feet and wiped his hands on his jeans.

"S'okay, kid," Vin said easily. "Guess I forgot too."

He stood, and wandered into the garage, and found a rag to wipe his hands on, and rolled his shoulders. "Guess I could eat though," he added with a smile, and followed JD into the kitchen.

"You want toast or cereal, or--" JD turned back from pouring two mugs of black coffee and discovered Tanner rummaging in the cupboard where he'd found the pop tarts that first morning.

"Uh--"

Vin eyed him narrowly, clearly reading his guilty expression with ease. "You stole my poptarts?"

JD took a step back.

"Now that's low," Vin shook his head sadly, "I've seen crooks, and villains, and bad guys that would make your teeth bleed. But I ain't never seen a man who'd go so low as to steal a fella's poptarts."

JD bit his lip to hide his grin. "It was the poptarts or eat some French meat paste stuff for breakfast," he said plaintively.

Vin grinned at him. "Why'd you think I keep my own stash up here?"

"Does this help?" JD opened a cupboard and Vin's eyes lit up.

"Okay, you're forgiven," he said as he reverently pulled out the Frosties and Cocopops. "How'd you get Ez to spring for them?"

JD fetched the milk, and turned to the cupboard for bowls, and found Vin had already grabbed two and set them on the table. "Didn't tell him about 'em. Just kinda added them to the shopping list."

Vin's eyes crinkled up with amusement and helped himself to cereal. "I can see this is gonna work out just fine."

They ate in silence for a while, until Vin glanced at him.

"You ride, right? Horses?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Ez said you had, just wanted to check. Done much lately?"

JD looked away. "Nah. Haven't really had time." Tanner was looking at him like he knew there was more to it than that, and JD ducked his head, chasing the last of the chocolate colored milk assiduously around the bowl.

"Good enough." Tanner let it drop and JD felt his shoulders relax. When he looked up the man was looking out the window, "Figure we can go up the back trail. If we pack some food we can probably get pretty high into the mountains before noon. There's some nice views up there too."

"Sure. You know 'round here better'n I do," he agreed easily. "Do you think Ez would--"

Vin laughed outright. "I think he'll be happier if he gets to lie in as long as possible."

JD couldn't help grinning. Vin had a point.

"You better write him a note or something, though."

JD scowled. "Geeze, he's not my Mom," he said defensively.

Vin looked at him thoughtfully and said nothing, but said it so clearly that JD felt his blush deepen.

"Okay, okay. I'm just kidding," he muttered, and headed to the study to find some paper and a pen. He wrote a brief note, and folded it over. "Idiot," he muttered to himself. "Calm down. He didn't mean anything by it."

Vin had watched with half an eye as JD had saddled his horse, and settled the rest of the tack in place. He finished about the same time as Vin did, and then looked around, his eyes going over Vin's tack swiftly. Vin dropped his head a little to hide the amusement in his eyes. Fine, the kid knew how to tack up. Didn't mean he knew how to ride.

JD led his horse out of the stable and Vin followed, leading Zebulon. JD swung up into the saddle, a little stiffly as though out of practice, and Vin nodded. They would take it slow today. He'd bet the kid hadn't ridden in a couple of years at least. He mounted up and told Zebulon to get moving. The big chestnut jittered a little, but Vin moved easily with him until he got used to the idea that no, he wasn't going to get his head today either.

"Y'okay there?" Jellicle was the mildest tempered of Ezra's horses, and she was still acting antsy. He wondered if it was that she hadn't been properly out for a while, or if JD was anxious about the ride and transmitting his nerves to her.

"Yeah." JD's voice was clipped. Vin considered him thoughtfully but let it go. Time enough for questions later.

"Just heading down the pasture until we get to the back road, and then we'll turn up the mountain," he called over his shoulder, and set out. The kid would follow.

By the time he had reached the turn the kid had gotten over whatever bug had bitten him, and was up alongside Zeb.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the ground. Vin squinted at the dusty blue-grey bird.

"Scrub Jay," he told the kid, and smiled at him, "Didn't take you for a bird watcher."

"I'm not I just--" the kid caught Vin's second meaning and laughed. Vin grinned back at him.

"You want birds, look up."

"Hey, yeah, Vin, I was outside a few nights ago and there was this big bird, wheeling up over the mountains."

"Gonna need more information than that," Vin shook his head. Big and it flies. Might want to narrow that down some.

JD looked disappointed, but he nodded. "I guess. If I see something though, can I--?"

Vin sighed. It was going to be a damn nature class at this rate. Why did he decide this was a good idea again? "Sure, kid. Just point it out quietly. Don't want to scare everything off."

"Okay. Sorry."

The kid was quiet for all of five minutes.

"What about that?" He was pointing upwards, and Vin shook his head.

"Falcon. Peregrine, prairie; could even be a merlin. Sun's in my eyes, so I can't be sure."

"Cool." JD peered up into the sky, then settled back to concentrating on keeping his seat. "Vin?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Why are you doing this?" Vin reined his horse in and twisted in his saddle to meet JD's forthright gaze.

"Figured if you waited for Ezra to show you some of this--"

"Vin." JD was still looking right at him and Vin shifted uneasily. "Fine, okay. We're looking at the motorcycle route. Except even I can see there's no bike tracks up here."

That would tend to be a problem, Vin admitted privately. "Most folks join further up the trail." Which was sort of true.

JD sighed. "Okay, whatever."

They rode in silence for some time, until the kid broke. "So, does Mr. Larabee live far from here?"

"About forty miles that way," Vin jerked a thumb north-west, and grinned. "About far enough that they don't kill each other at the weekends."

JD grinned back and Vin wondered what exactly Ezra had told the kid about Larabee. For that matter, what he'd told the kid about the team. He hesitated, then gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to get a much better chance than this.

"So, Ez say much about the rest of us?" he asked, straining to sound casual. The kid seemed to buy it, and smiled at Vin.

"He said never get between you and your junk food."

Vin laughed, "Harsh, but fair." He rummaged in a pocket and pulled out a couple of granola bars. "Here."

The kid just about caught his, and thanked him before ripping into the honey and chocolate laced candy.

"What about the rest of us?" he added, chewing.

JD shrugged, chewed a few seconds and swallowed hastily. "I don't remember really," he hedged and Vin laughed silently.

"It was that bad, huh?"

"No! No, It was just -- I just -- ah, fuckit." He caught sight of Vin's smirk and growled under his breath. "Bastard." He threw his empty wrapper at Vin who caught it and shook his head solemnly.

"You really shouldn't litter, JD," he drawled, dragging the name out. JD cracked up laughing, and then asked the question Vin had been waiting for.

"So, what'd he tell you guys about me?"

Vin hesitated. He didn't have to tell Larabee what he found out, if anything. He looked at the kid, and the smile fell from JD's face.

"What did he tell you?" he repeated in a whisper.

"Not much." Vin looked away, then pulled his horse up, and reached across to hold onto JD's bridle. "Kid -- I wouldn't ask this except I'm worried 'bout ya. About you an' Ez both."

"What? Why?"

JD looked frightened, and Vin winced internally. This didn't look good.

"I been doing some looking, you see. A -- I was -- JD, look, I'll give it you straight, okay? I've found some stuff that worried me. See, Ezra likes the finer things in life, but he ain't that rich. And you, you've never had a job that paid more than minimum wage. And then, all of a sudden, you move in with Ez, and all your debts are cleared." He watched carefully. "JD, that's a lot of money to come by honestly."

JD jerked but didn't try to escape, he just seemed to fold in on himself. Vin bit back a sigh. Larabee was going to kill him. So much for discreet.

"You've been looking," he said in a shaken voice. "Oh god."

"JD. Kid, I can't help you unless you help me a little here, okay?" he said recklessly. The thought crossed his mind that maybe that was how they got to the kid -- a little mutual aid. But he didn't falter for a moment as he waited. "Where'd the money come from?"

"I can't tell you," he said somewhere between misery and defiance.

"Can't, or won't?"

JD looked down.

"Did someone give it to you to move in with Ez?"

"N-no." But the kid's whole demeanor yelled yes.

"Come on, just tell me the truth." Vin nudged his horse closer. "I'm Ezra's friend. I'm not out to harm him."

"But you think I am?"

"No." Vin stopped himself too late. "No," he repeated more slowly. It was true, he realized, JD didn't seem to have any motive for being with Ezra beyond having fallen for the guy in a big way. And... there was just something to the way the kid said Ezra's name; to the way he'd stood up to Buck that first poker game; to the way he was holding his jaw and the steady brown eyes that watched him as warily as any wild animal.

"I'm worried about where that money came from, and how it's going to look if it comes out," he said simply.

JD bit his lip. "Can I trust you?"

Vin half smiled at him. "No one c'n decide that but you." And God help us all if we both choose wrong.

JD nodded, and after about half a minute's silence, Vin let go of JD's reins and walked his horse on, hoping.

A few minutes later he simply nodded to JD as the kid brought his horse up alongside without looking at him.

They paced each other for a few minutes before JD cleared his throat and asked, "Vin, if I tell you something, are you gonna have to tell Mr. Larabee? And all the others? You know, make it official?"

Vin sighed. "I ain't going to lie to you, I might have ta tell Chris." I'm probably gonna tell Chris everything you say, but you're scared enough right now, without me telling you that. "But tell me, and I'll do my best to help ya." Shit. What'd I go and say that for? If I end up arresting him for extortion or bribing a federal officer...

"I can't make any promises, okay? If you've done something illegal or--"

"No! No. I don't think it's illegal, exactly." JD didn't look any too sure of it though as he fiddled with his reins, twisting the leather to and fro in his hands, and Vin's heart sank further. Christ. Someone really had paid for JD to take up with Ez, and he was going to end up breaking both their hearts by arresting the kid, and Chris would have to suspend Ez. What a fucking mess.

Kid wasn't gonna last a minute in jail.

"Ezra's Mom--"

Vin's head shot up. "Maude?"

"Is that her name?" JD glanced at Vin briefly, then looked down again. "She, ah, she helped me out with my bills. And I met Ezra through her." He swallowed, and said lowly, "I don't know how much you know about my Mom?"

"A little."

"It took her seventeen months, from the day they diagnosed cancer, to the day she finally died, did you know that? It cost quarter of a million dollars just to give her a year more than they said she had." He looked up, face fierce, "And I'd sign every damn form again, spend every last red cent of it. Just for that year." He looked away, but not before Vin saw tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes. When the kid looked back the tears were gone.

"Why'd she give you the money? Maude?"

JD shook his head. "Because she could. I don't know why. Ez said he-- that she had said she had an inconvenient five -- you know," he seemed unwilling to say the amount out loud, and Vin nodded, encouraging him to go on. "Anyway, he said she spent it on me, because she thought it would make him happy." He looked up at that, and straight into Vin's eyes. "He is happy. I want him to be happy. He deserves it, more'n anyone I know."

Vin nodded slowly, chewing his thoughts over. If Maude was involved it explained a hell of a lot. It still left a bunch of questions unanswered, like where she got the money from, and how exactly it was 'inconvenient'. But Maude was far, far less dangerous a source than he had feared.

He offered the kid a lop-sided smile.

"Does that mean you aren't going to tell Mr. Larabee?"

Vin shook his head. "I'll tell him more or less what you told me. He'll be happy enough with that."

"Really?"

No, not as naïve as you look, Vin thought. "It'll do for now. I'll talk to Ezra maybe, see what he thinks."

JD nodded. "Okay. It's nothing bad, you know? Ez wouldn't do anything wrong, you know that?"

"I know that," Vin agreed, not quite sure if he really meant it, or if he just couldn't face the thought of spending the next half hour listening to the virtues of Ezra Standish. He had a nasty feeling he might have to do that anyway.

---------------------------

Ezra sighed contentedly. The bed was warm and he could smell coffee. "JD?" he said around yawn. He looked blearily for his lover, and decided that he must be up. Possibly making coffee. Bliss. He let himself drift into a pleasant doze.

Some time later he jolted bolt upright out of a dream where shadows followed him, and he fled. The rumbling of some vast articulated monster of a vehicle was, it appeared, thunder being incorporated into his sleep. Light flooded the room and faded instantly, yet another crack of thunder detonating directly above his head. He sat still, wide eyed, his heart racing and his breathing gradually slowing down again. That was a hell of a way to wake up.

The clock told him it was early afternoon, and he winced a little. JD must have gone on out without him. He pushed the bedding back and pattered into the bathroom, shivering a little at the chill coming down with the pounding rain. He'd need to turn the heating up a little, he thought, and got into the shower, taking his time. He was lucky that he'd finished up in the electric powered shower and was used to a straight edge razor when the power cut out.

He blinked a little, waiting out the adjustment to the relative dark, then finished up. He was going to have to check the generator, and maybe take a look in on the horses. He dressed swiftly, ran a towel over his head, and resigned himself to getting thoroughly soaked despite the heavy waterproof coat and pants that he pulled on. Galoshes and a broad brimmed hat completed the ensemble, and he pared a moment's gratitude that JD wasn't present to enjoy it.

He could barely see more than about ten feet in front of him as he trudged over to the stables. The sky lit periodically with brilliant streaks of lightning. It forked and scattered as it reached to the ground, and the thunder kept rolling, like a marble in a wooden bowl, rumbling and resounding, never quite fading into complete silence before the next strike crashed though the clouds. rain blew into his face, and he'd barely taken ten steps before his whole body was clammy and cold.

The horses were going to be miserable. Nichols had called yesterday to let him know he wouldn't be able to make it over this weekend, so apart from the storm, which would have them antsy enough, they'd be standing knee deep in muck.

"Hey there, girl," he said easily, pushing the hat back from his face so Pasada didn't attempt to bite him. She huffed a sigh and dropped her head, startling a little at a new lightning strike, but not terribly bothered. He shook his head.

"They aren't going to be happy." He eyed the two empty stalls, and remembered that Vin had mentioned something about taking JD up the back trail to look over a possible bike route. Well, better they be on horses than machines in this, he thought, and winced as his ready imagination supplied gruesome images of his two friends mangled beyond recognition under out of control motorcycles in the treacherous conditions. Then it switched to wondering if Zebulon was handling the storm okay, and if Jellicle's off hind had been re-shoed like he'd asked a week ago. He should have checked, but between work and JD, his face softened into a happy smile, well, he'd been distracted. Falling in love would do that to a man, he absolved himself.

"Wouldn't it, chiquita?" he said to Pasada, who snorted. Clearly she was unimpressed at being second best to a scrawny twenty-something with more education than he knew what to do with, and an endearing line in naiveté. "Ah, I haven't forgotten you," he said. "Or you," and he rubbed a hand over Asher's nose ridge. The horse ducked his head and shifted uneasily as what felt like the crack of doom blasted his ears. "Easy, boy, easy," he said reassuringly. He looked at the exit anxiously. Hopefully JD and Vin would be sensible enough to find shelter. He found himself biting his lip, and stopped himself, pursing his lips together tightly. "Well, I don't have time to deal with those silly boys."

He hung his hat and coat up, and lit a storm lantern -- a flashlight by any other name. Talking of which. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, absently noting the cobwebs and straw on the rafters, ah yes. The fuck-off big flashlight he'd kept when he'd last been on a night time raid was still somewhere in the generator shed from the last power outage. Under the lantern's light he was pleasantly surprised to find the two empty stalls had already been mucked out. He turned Asher and Pasada out to the field, discovering in the process that they too had been cleaned up.

The two horses seemed less than thrilled with this turn of affairs and huddled together under the wind break that only sheltered them from one side and from above.

He stomped across to the small shed where the backup generator that he'd had installed was clearly not working. It took him a scant five minutes after examining it with his large Scully-torch, as purloined from the FBI who'd been with them on the raid, to discover that something was clogged inside the works. It looked like some sort of rodent. A deceased rodent.

"Damn." He looked at the matted fur for some time before closing the lid to the unit carefully, and snapping the catches in place. He ran his flashlight over the edges of the door, then ran his fingers under the edges. No gaps.

"Damn." No boyfriend here. No friends here. About to go under on an unexpectedly big job, the power goes out in the middle of a storm, and his generator has a mouse in it. He snorted faintly and resisted the obvious remark. He'd save it for an audience. He flicked the flashlight off, and stood very still, listening. He couldn't hear anything but the thunder and the rain, and between them, he was going to be hard pressed to locate any intruders.

Maybe he hadn't been supposed to find out? Storms of this sort usually hit during the summer afternoons, as the heat rising from Colorado's desert landscape hit the cold air piling up against the Rockies. By this time of year, the storms were usually over. Maybe they hadn't expected there to be a power outage. At least, not one caused by nature.

He shivered, wishing that one of his team mates were there. JD was fine as a companion, but he did wonder how the kid would cope with the violence of his world. Academia wasn't exactly known for equipping kids to survive gun battles. He shook himself. JD had had enough real life already. He'd be fine, he told himself firmly.

But he'd seen the nervous glances at where his gun would normally sit in its holster last night. He wondered what the kid and Buck had talked about at lunch together. Buck was good hearted, and honest. It would be only too easy for Buck to share something that Ezra had not quite gotten around to mentioning. Undercover ops. Bigotry in the FBI. Team Seven's injury rate. The Lasater case.

On the whole he suspected that at some point the conversation had reached the subject of guns, gun control and law enforcement.

White light fleetingly floodlit the cracks in the wall of the generator shed, and Ezra dragged himself back to the here and now as the inevitable crash followed. He'd messed around with bare hands in here; the chances were that Mrs. Flores had been in here at some point, and Mr. Nichols. Fingerprinting the equipment would doubtless show only those hands to have touched it. How to approach this?

Was it Lasater, or some other grudge holding felon that had set up his house for some sort of horror movie scenario? If it was Lasater then they had a bigger problem than rats in the generator. He chuckled under his breath.

A terrible thought struck him. What if this was not aimed at him? What if Torrence, who seemed to have tracked his money to JD, had decided to take some sort of direct action to retrieve his property? He stopped dead in his tracks, cold to the core. What if Torrence knew about the sale -- he seemed to know about everything else. What if he decided that the money had bought JD, and that meant he, Jacob Torrence, owned one John Dunne, for the duration of that damned contract.

Curious how he could actually feel blood draining away from his face, and bile burning the back of his throat.

He picked up a set of screwdrivers, and headed back to the house. He stumbled a little as he walked. The grass was slippery, and a young river seemed to be developing along the path between the stables and the main building, and he almost lost his footing on unexpected stones a couple of times.

The house was still dark, and he went around it methodically, lighting candles, unplugging electrical equipment, locking and bolting every door that had a manual lock on it. He took a screwdriver from the set he'd brought in, found a pair of evidence gloves from his jacket pocket and settled himself by the telephone in the kitchen.

It was the work of approximately a minute to remove the main cover of the handset and base unit, and discover the tiny piece of additional wiring clipped to the mouth piece and earpiece. He shut his eyes briefly, he was going to have to bring Chris in on this. He was going to have to lay the whole thing out in front of him, because if it wasn't Lasater, wasn't some old grudge, then all hell could be about to let loose.

The last thing he wanted to do.

Lightning snapped across the sky again, but it didn't brighten the room as much as the last few had, and he looked up. The clouds were slowly parting. He could see blue sky in the distance, a ragged patch barely enough for a pocket handkerchief. Precursor to an evening of clear skies, a freezing night, and if he knew Colorado weather at all by now, the first ice on the roads in the morning.

He sat and stared at the dismembered handset until the thunder died away.

----------------------------

JD had been anticipating dry clothes and a hot drink and Ezra for some time now, peering up through the rain hoping for a sign of the house. "You sure we're going the right way?" he asked, not for the first time. Tanner just looked at him and JD lifted his hands in surrender. "Sorry, yes, you know where you are, blindfold, tied up, one leg missing in a tornado."

Vin grinned at him. "And don't you forget it," he said. He looked up and frowned. "I'd'a thought we'd've seen the lights by now," he added.

JD shrugged. "Maybe he went out."

"He'd still put the lights on for us in this weather. He always does."

JD tried to ignore the stab of jealousy. Ezra had known these guys far longer than he'd known him. "Yeah?"

Vin sat back in the saddle and shook his head. "Power's probably out."

"Huh." He wondered if that sounded rude, and quickly asked, "does that happen often out here?"

"Often enough."

"What's that mean?" He couldn't seem to stop the note of irritation in his voice, and stopped, took a deep breath. "Once a year, once a month?" he smiled, "Should I be laying in a stock of batteries and flashlights?"

Vin smiled back. "Out here, might be a good plan anyway. Maybe couple of times since I've known him."

JD wanted to ask him how long that had been, but didn't. He'd just come off sounding stupid. Or maybe it would be a natural thing to do, ask. Bit of small talk.

"You reckon you could find the trail again?" Vin asked him and JD had to struggle to deal with the actual conversation instead of the imaginary one that was ringing in his head.

"Yeah. Is it safe in this kinda weather?"

"Same's most places when you're dirt biking."

JD nodded, and felt tension slide from his shoulders as a dark building emerged from the sheeting rain. Home. He picked up the pace a little, and Vin sped up too, both hurrying silently into the dark stable yard. He dismounted hastily and led Jellicle inside. His hand swiped for the light switch, he couldn’t find it at first and when he did, nothing happened. He flipped it a couple of times and sighed. "Power's out."

"Thought so," Vin was right behind him.

JD nodded. "Good call. You know where--"

"Hang on to Zeb would ya?" Vin handed him Zebulon's reins and JD listened to his booted feet on the stone floor. Zebulon whickered softly and dropped his head to JD's hand.

"Ain't got nothing for you," he said softly, and scratched the bridge of the horse's nose. "That good, hmm?"

Jellicle whuffled and stepped closer, more or less trapping him between the two horses. JD laughed under his breath. "You guys are soaked, aren't you?"

A light glowed dimly and swung as it approached, casting wildly dancing shadows around the stable. "Vin?"

"Rain's stopped," Vin said. "Here." He handed JD a lantern and took Zebulon's reins back. "Put a blanket over Jellicle's stall."

"Thanks." JD led Jellicle into her stall and unsaddled her. The leather was only wet around the edges, his body had kept most of it dry. "Here you go, girl," he said as he rubbed her down, "Better now, hey?"

He discarded the wet, filthy towel and pushed his own dripping hair back off his face. He checked her over carefully -- no cuts or bruises; nothing caught in her hooves, and smiled, patting her withers. "There you go, Jelly-girl," he said as he laid the thick blanket over her back. "Bet that's better."

"JD?" JD turned, a smile spreading across his face without him even realizing it.

"Ez!"

"Hey, Ez," Vin called from the next stall where he was finishing the same routine with Zebulon. "Power off?"

"Rats in the generator."

There was a short silence, and JD wondered why it felt tense.

"Regular rats or the two legger variety?" Vin said.

"A very good question, Agent Tanner," Ezra said. JD's head jerked around to look at him.

"What's going on?" he asked sharply.

"Another good question," Ezra stepped into the stall, running a hand along Jellicle's back. "And still I have no answers."

Ezra was wearing waterproofs, JD noticed as he moved closer. "What's going on, Ez?" he asked again, more quietly, more anxiously. Ezra pulled him closer with an arm over his shoulder, but spoke to Vin. "I would appreciate it if you would examine the interior of your cellular phone."

Vin had turned and was leaning on the wooden wall between the two stalls, one eyebrow raised. His head tilted and Ezra nodded. JD looked from one to the other, envying the silent communication, wondering what it meant, wishing Ezra would let him in.

"Ezra?"

"In a minute, John," Ezra said, tightening his arm. Vin stripped gloves from his hands and pulled his phone out. He pried the back off, and dismembered it swiftly, laying plastic cover, battery, card, keypad, protective backing out in a neat line. He looked up.

"Can you get that light--?"

JD wordlessly reached across Ezra to the lantern and held it over the parts of the phone until Vin looked up, shaking his head. "Nothin'."

Ezra sighed and even through their respective layers of clothing JD could feel the slight slump that indicated draining tension before Ezra shifted, standing taller somehow.

"Good. My dear, do you have your cell-phone?" Ezra smiled at JD, who nodded, and pulled it from his pocket, offering it silently. Vin reached out for it and rapidly opened it up too.

"I've only had it a couple of weeks," he said, puzzled, "what are you looking for?"

Vin's eyes flicked up and back to the phone.

"Bugs," Ezra said tersely. JD looked up at him.

"Bugs?"

"Clean," Vin said before JD could get any answers and handed it back to him.

JD turned it over in his hands, looking carefully at it. "Who's gonna bug my phone?"

He looked up when there was no reply to find Vin staring at Ezra, and Ezra staring at Vin's hands resting on top of Vin's own mostly rebuilt cell-phone.

"Ez?"

"You gonna explain it or not?" Vin said mildly, breaking the silence. Ezra turned away. "He's not the only one wondering what's going on, Ez."

"Come inside, both of you. I lit a fire when it became clear we would not be getting electricity back anytime soon."

"Ezra--" Vin said as Ezra guided JD out of the stables. JD looked back over his shoulder, worried. Vin was watching them. In the flickering dark, as the wind swung the lantern, his face looked grim and stern.

Ezra tensed, then nodded without turning back to face him. "I will call him forthwith."

"Him?" JD asked, hurrying to keep up. "Who? Who are you calling? Ezra, I don't understand what's going on. Is it ATF stuff? Is that why the power's out?"

Ezra ushered him into the kitchen and JD shivered convulsively. The warmth of the house suddenly made him realize how very cold and wet he was.

"Go dry off," Ezra said firmly, and gave him a little push towards the door to the rest of the house. "I'll explain everything -- everything I can explain -- when you get back downstairs. There's a fire in the main room, and I've got towels warming by it."

"Really?" JD paused, one foot on the stairs. "How'd you--"

Ezra raised an eyebrow. "I looked outside."

JD nodded, not quite sure whether the short answer meant Ezra was angry or worried or what. He wanted to ask, but Ezra was already turning into the main living room, and the chance passed. A moment later Vin appeared. He'd already stripped off his coat and was rapidly unbuttoning his soaked shirt as he followed Ezra. JD turned away and ran up the stairs.

There were bigger things to worry about than Vin Tanner being entirely too comfortable running around half naked in his house. Okay, Ezra's house, but still. He was being ridiculous. And if he wasn't, he didn't want to know.

Chris sprinted across the yard, skidded in the mud and only just righted himself. Nonetheless, he got to the phone just in time to catch Ezra's voice saying goodbye as he finished leaving a message on the answer phone.

He rubbed a muddy hand across his face, trying to wipe the rain away. The storm was passing. To the east he could see lightening that suggested that blue sky was not far behind the clouds, in the west, lightning still struck, thunder rumbling in its wake. He laughed softly, Sarah would never have let him in the house in thios state. he'd dripped mud everywhere, even, he suspected, on the phone, which meant picking at it with a pin or a paperclip later. A hank of hair flopped wetly down across his forehead and into his eyes, and he brushed it back impatiently. He hit the 'play' button and waite. "This had better be good, Standish," he muttered as the machine announced that he had one new message. "I know, just give me the damn message already." "Chris, Ezra. I have a bit of a problem with a power cut, and was wondering if you could help out a neighbour. if you could call back, I'm on my cell phone."

Chris was surprised. Ezra might not live far, but he could count on one hand the number of times that he'd called for things not related to work. He pulled off his boots and walked in stocking feet back across the kitchen, careful not to slip on the smooth tiles. He rinsed the mud off his hands, then dunked his head under the tap as well, gasping a little as the hot water hit his frozen scalp.

Chores were done. Maybe Ezra need a part or something. He could call, check he was okay, then either head on over there or grab a shower. Actually, maybe he could grab a shower first. He looked longingly up the stairs, then sighed. His instincts were urging him to call. Ezra never asked for help. It had to be more urgent than it sounded. He pulled the hand towel off its hook and scrubbed roughly at his face and hair, then let it around his neck to soak up the drips as he headed back for the phone. Okay. call Ezra and see what he needed.

The phone only rang once before it was picked up. "Chris?"

"Ezra. I got your message. What's the problem?"

I seem to have a rat in my generator."

Chris tensed. "What sort of rat?"

"Rattus rattus," I believe," Ezra said dryly.

Chris started to grin. "You let a rat get in your power generator? Ezra, that has to be a new low."

"Yes, I'm sure it's very amusing, sir," Ezra said lightly. "Rats in my generator, insects in my walls, the entertainment just never ends."

"Sounds like you need an exterminator, not a neighbour," Chris said, grinning. He wiped water out of his face and wandered upstairs. Definitely a shower and then maybe a meal.

"I would appreciate your opinion on the right sort of exterminator."

Chris frowned. "Ez?"

"I would really appreciate your input on my infestation problem, Chris, if you have the time."

Chris stopped in his tracks. Infestation. Insects. Bugs? Damn. He stripped his shirt off as he headed into the bathroom, and asked, "How widespread?"

"Fairly localised, in so far as I am able to tell. Of course, the current power failure is not assisting."

"I hear that." Although if Ezra's house was bugged, hopefully they were feeding off a trickle charge in the house electricity, and weren't individually powered. Except Ezra knew that and presumably had checked his cell before calling him on it. "Ezra, look, stay where you are, I'll be over in an hour, no more. I'll bring along a tool kit."

And maybe a couple of experts while I'm at it.

"Thank you."

"I'll see you then." He hung up, and dropped the phone. It took him three minutes to shower off, barely time to get wet, never mind warm. Grains of mud were still sluicing down the drain as he pulled on jeans and a sweater. He called Buck, got no answer at the condo, and called his cell as he hurried through the house, picking up badge, gun, toolkit. Candles and flashlights went in as an afterthought. Still no answer, and he swore, waited for the voicemail, and said, "Buck, Ezra's place is out of power. You re-wired that old place of Josiah's for him, right? You want to swing by and give us a hand? Bring everything you need for dealing with wires and power, okay? Ezra's just as likely to kill me as himself trying to fix it. Buck. Get moving. Put her down, and go. Now, Buck." He hung up, ready to go. Hopefully Buck would get the message.

Oh, yes. One more thing. He fished out a small screwdriver and undid the back of first his landline and then his cell. Both looked clean. He looked at the insides of the two phones for a long moment, then sighed and put them back together, then headed out.

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Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fandoms listed herein. I am certainly making no money from these creative fan tributes to a wonderful, fun show.