Notes: The title, offside, is a hockey rule violation. Offside is... crossing into the opponent's zone before the puck, or more simply, being too far ahead of one's team while trying to make a play. It's penalized by two minutes of forced isolation for the violator and a 1-man disadvantage for his team as the game continues. I hope it's complete enough to stand on it's own, though I'll most likely finish the concept in a sequel. The idea was to have Vin and Ezra at the actual game.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, someone else does. I'm making no money off this or anything else for that matter. Don't sue me... it'll be a waste of your time.

Offside
-by Nati_A

Ezra Standish sat at his desk, massaging his temples and staring at the half-completed report on his computer screen. Chris had been excessively loud in demanding that the finished version be on his desk first thing Monday morning. That meant he wanted it there by 6AM Monday morning, not between 9:30 when Ezra usually graced the office with his presence. He either had to finish it now or take work home with him yet again. He really wanted just one evening of peace after this horrendous failure, not one spent hunched over the case files or background information.

Sighing, he paged through his case notes yet again and tried to justify to the bosses upstairs why he had blown the case. Though Ezra had done no such thing, his actions had ended the case as surely as if he had walked into the final meet with his gun and badge in hand. Team Seven had spent several hundred-man hours watching Standish establish his cover as an arms scout for an up-and-coming militia group and meeting with his contact. When the contact had continued to stall after a month of meetings and a very lucrative monetary offer, Ezra played this final card. he had issued an ultimatum. He demanded a meeting with someone who had the authority to negotiate not a peon go-between. He thought that the loss of a potential long-term client would prompt a face-to-face meeting, but he was wrong.

Now, half the building was looking to crucify him for his actions. Mr. Larabee was doing his best to defend his undercover agent, but this report was vital to any effective defense. Chris had not been working surveillance at the time, and JD's account did not carry enough authority to stop the assault Team Seven was facing. Ezra had finally been forced to set his phone extension directly to voice mail. Everyone from AD Travis to the Seven's assistant down in Research had been calling him about the case. Intra-office gossip traveled quickly, especially when the only consistent facts were that the meet had gone sour and Ezra had irrevocably ended negotiations with the DeCarlo family.

"Hey Ez, don't ya think you've stared at that enough for one day?"

Ezra looked up to see Vin standing in the entrance to his cubicle. Everyone except Ezra had headed home after Chris's latest tirade; most times it was safest to sneak away when Chris was in one of his pseudo-violent moods. Standish knew the former bounty hunter had left several hours ago to get ready for his first weekend off since this case had started. Vin had been Ezra's partner and paramilitary authority over the past month. He looked up at the Texan curiously.

"Good evening Mr. Tanner. I thought you had left this glorious institution of law enforcement for the day."

"I did, but I'm back to drag your sorry butt outta here," Vin replied with a wry grin.

"I assure you, my posterior is quite thankful for your concern, but alas it shall be here for quite some time yet. Mr. Larabee was adamant with regards to the deadline for this report," Ezra sighed softly, again remembering that particular lecture this afternoon. "I shall endeavor to have it placed on his desk before I retire for the night."

"Ez, you've been workin' all day. Why don't ya take a break?" Vin watched the Southerner scowl before he turned back to look at his monitor.

Ezra had been working on this report for two days straight. He had thoroughly documented the progression of the case in his case log as usual, but the whole team knew that he had to relate his information carefully so he did not further annoy their superiors. As it stood, the Allocations & Expenditures department cringed every time Team Seven started a new case. They had been looking for an excuse to reprimand the Southerner since they realized exactly how expensive it was to replace or repair his personal property. It looked like they would finally get the opportunity to file a 'misuse of resources' complaint against him if things went badly on Monday.

Vin looked around the cubicle for a moment before making his decision. Ezra looked tired yet determined. Vin knew Ezra had already worked a sixty-hour week. He decided that he would physically drag the stubborn agent out of the building, if that was what it took to get him to leave. He walked the rest of the way into the Southerner's work area and started to gather up his things. He picked up the trench coat, briefcase, cell phone, and finally Ezra himself. He grabbed Standish by the elbow and pulled him out of his chair without the expected protest.

"It's time to go, pard. Friday, past 5PM... quittin' time."

"I need to finish..." Ezra replied wearily. "Chris..."

"Was just ranting at ya'. The paper-pushers upstairs are ridin' his ass hard over this one. Ez, he didn't mean to come down on ya' so hard. He, never mind... come with me Ez. We're goin' out."

Despite his casual disregard for most authority figures, Standish was devoted to both the team and its leader. Vin knew that if left alone, Ezra would likely stay until the early hours of the morning to finish this report on the off-chance that Chris would be in over the weekend. Little obsessive details like that often went unnoticed by the others, but Vin had caught him at it before. After a night of surveillance, the Texan had come in around 4AM to find the Jag just pulling out of the underground garage. Tanner had found a detailed packet of background information for their last case on his desk, one that the undercover agent had worked most of the night to piece together.

Ezra had walked back into the office at 9AM looking a bit more haggard than usual. With the commute to and from his condo, Vin figured he had gotten only three hours of sleep. Stoically, Ezra endured Buck's teasing speculation about his sex life, and Nathan's scathing lecture on not letting fatigue effect his job performance. Ezra had refused to defend his appearance and had let them believe what they chose. Vin had not enlightened them either, though he did quietly mention it to Chris later. Standish worked hard to project a finely crafted image, and Vin knew that it was not his place to contradict it.

Chris made few demands on his team when compared with the rest of the Bureau. As long as Team Seven put in a standard forty-hour week, attended the departmental briefings, and completed their paperwork within a reasonable amount of time, he was satisfied. Sure, he did yell at Buck and JD when they disappeared or slipped away to see a ball game, and he had even threatened to lock Ezra in the conference room so he would make it to meetings on time. However, he would never encourage any of them to stay in the office half the night to work on a report, be it an important one or not.

Amazingly enough, Ezra did not fight when Vin forced him from his desk. It would be far easier to leave for a few hours to get dinner, than to convince the Texan that he needed to stay. He would simply return later, and maybe the break would help his concentration.

"Fine. I shall go. Are you satisfied Mr. Tanner?" he asked with mock indignation. He reached back down to save his file and shut down the workstation.

"Yeah Ez. Come on, I owe ya dinner since ya got my cover all sorted out. It would've taken me a good three ta four days to get all that stuff together."

Ezra merely shrugged in response, while he popped the diskette out of the mini-tower and slipped it into his pocket. If Tanner was buying, it undoubtedly meant that Ezra would be drinking. That always seemed to be the trend when one went out with Vin. He took his protector role very seriously, and he firmly believed that getting the others drunk served to relieve stress. Ezra knew he might end up passed out on his own couch if he was not careful.

With a final glance around his cubicle, Ezra shrugged into the coat Vin handed to him. Resigned, he followed the Texan to the parking lot below and over to the Jag. He had made it clear long ago that the battered Jeep Wrangler Vin chose to drive was less than acceptable. He had only ever been seen in it a handful of times, and most of those were while the pair were undercover up in the mountains. The Jag would have drawn too much attention to the pair of 'hunters' looking for some high powered 'hunting' rifles.

Vin directed them away from their usual stop at 'The Saloon.' Instead he chose a small Italian restaurant nestled on the fringe of commercial Denver. Ezra was impressed with the choice. It was much like Inez's bar, an unremarkable exterior hiding a modestly decorated interior and a soothing environment. The menu was a bit classic for his tastes, but it did offer a wide variety of authentic entrees. The wine list left a lot to be desired, so he opted for an import beer instead of his usual fare, much to Vin's surprise. He had two beers while they talked about anything other than work, then a third with dinner itself.

Ninety minutes after leaving the office, Ezra was well fed and extremely relaxed. The first two drinks had hit him harder than expected. He had forgotten that he had skipped lunch after only having a cappuccino and a biscotte on the way to work. Vin sat across from him smiling smugly to himself for awhile before suggestion their next destination.

"Hey Ez, what ya' got planned fo' tonight?"

"Crawling home and sleeping off the lassitude I feel after this pleasant dinner. You've succeeded in your plan to prevent my return to the office, as usual. Why do you ask?"

"Well, see... I kinda got these great tickets for the Arena. Ya' up to a little entertainment before nap-time?"

"As long as it's not a truly dreadful diversion, like a circus or tractor pull... I could be persuaded to participate. No craft fairs either... I had a young woman in Atlanta convince me to escort her to one. I've never seen such a hideous array of tacky hand-made novelties. Though I doubt you're one for that sort of thing. Purgatorio would laugh you back to Texas if they even suspected your kitchen was graced with cow accessories."

Vin grinned at his friend. If you got enough alcohol in him, Standish could be quite entertaining. The complicated language was still present, but it was less confusing. He was less reserved and more likely to reveal anecdotes about his life, like the craft fair incident.

Vin quickly settled their bill, then lead the mildly inebriated agent to his car. Slipping behind the wheel, he drove them back across town to the Pepsi Arena. He had decided to make the evening interesting and introduce Ezra to one of America's greatest forms of entertainment... professional sports. The Pepsi Arena, home of the Colorado Avalanche, might never be the same again.

[End, for now]