AN: Shortie addition to the Gambler'verse - just for fun and written due to a MiniNaNoWriMo project - hope you have fun with it.
Roped In
By Marns AKA Bumpkin
Rated PG
Gen
(Wordcount: 615)
"Let's just agree that we both hate her, okay?" Ezra grumbled. Vin didn't say anything in response, he did however raise an eyebrow doubtfully at the declaration. Ezra folded, "Fine, perchance 'hate' is too strong a word. Can we at least agree that we aren't happy with the particular lady in question? Not at this moment in time at any rate."
"Eh," Vin shrugged. "Suppose so, but it's 'Manda, Ez. She's jus' as much a force o' nature as you and your Mother." He grinned slyly at his friend. "Hell, after knowin' her for as long as you have I would 'spect that you would know that about her."
Ezra huffed. He didn't feel that the admittedly astute observation and subsequent accusation deserved a reply. He set about straightening out his haberdashery instead, one must keep up appearances at all times after all. Vin chuckled, and Ezra grimaced. He forgot how well the other man knew him. To Vin he was like an open book, and in a case like this Vin would know without a doubt what all his fussing was about.
'Damn.'
He hated feeling like he had to defend himself, he was too damn old to be doing it, but nevertheless he found himself protesting, "You can't tell me that this doesn't vex you? Being shanghaied into some harebrained scheme of another's creation, and then only being informed after it has started when you can't decline participation!" Vin's mouth quirked upwards on one side humorously and his eyes began to dance before he started to answer but Ezra had a premonition of what he was going to say and cut him off before he could as he said waspishly, "And no, the shenanigans you used to get into with myself and the rest of our compatriots in Four Corners do not count!"
Vin smirked. His eyes hadn't stopped their dancing either and Ezra knew that whatever came out of the erstwhile tracker's mouth would be absolutely ridiculous, or not something he wanted to hear anyway.
"Why, Ez-ra, methinks someone doth protest too much." Vin said with a horrible singsong accent on the part with his name. Ezra shuddered. He was right. Good Lord, was he ever. Vin had managed to pick up some culture somewhere (or something approximating it) and then he had managed to mangle it while at the same time torturing Ezra. The man had a gift, or when applied to Ezra, a curse. This needed to be addressed.
"Mr. Tanner," Ezra said icily, "please desist and refrain from taking my name, and great literary works, in vain in the future, if you please."
"Aw, Ez, don't be like that, I was just having some fun." Vin said in his best 'aw shucks' voice and Ezra had to manfully refrain from rolling his eyes before Vin continued, "'sides, 'Manda is 'bout ready for us to make our entrance, so we better start gettin' into character. Wouldn't do for her hired help not be on hand when needed now would it? Specially since we're supposed to be the best there is."
Ezra sighed. "No, I suppose not."
He again went through his personal ritual of straightening his clothing, which also was his way of checking to make sure his personal arsenal was in place and nothing was caught or bound, and then fell into an alert stance. Vin went through his own personal armory check and when done nodded at Ezra. Together, they went down the hall and into the room where they had agreed to meet their fellow Immortal and Ezra's wife, watching each other's backs like they had been on and off for over a century.
-end-