Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
The banging on his bedroom door slowly brought him to full awareness. With his fingers still clutched around a bottle of cheap rye, his eyes partially glued shut and crusty, he was not ready to face the day. And from the amount of sunlight sneaking through the curtains he'd bet it was not yet eight in the morning.
Turning onto his back he shook the empty bottle free from his still sleeping fingers and squashed a pillow over his face hoping and praying whoever was on the other side of the door would give up and go away. Alas it was not in the cards.
"Standish, get your lazy, good for nothing hide out of that bed. You are due outside, down at the stage office in twenty minutes!" The unmistakable growl that could only belong to their resident gunslinger shot through the wood door. His statement was punctuated by several more well placed blows to the innocent door.
The man had no tact. It was not in good form to drag decent people from their comfortable beds before ten in the morning, especially not by banging on their bedroom doors and screaming at levels only fit for the out of doors.
Ezra lay there pretending not to be in the room, hoping maybe Chris would think he'd missed Ezra, and he'd leave to check. He waited in the sudden silence. Maybe it had worked, he thought to himself. Mere seconds later his bedroom door was viciously kicked in from the other side, part of the door's locking mechanism sliding across the wood floor to bounce off the far wall. He shot up in the bed as the Angel of Death descended, and here he was sitting helplessly tangled in his nightshirt and bedclothes. Attempting to make a valiant effort to exit the bed with a modicum of decorum, Ezra landed in a heap on the floor with the down filled duvet.
Chris stood at the end of the bed with a scowl on his face and his hands on his hips watching as the gambler untangled himself from linens and sheets. "Mr. Larabee, I must protest the manner in which you tried to roust me from my slumber." Ezra pouted as he gathered up the rumpled bedclothes and threw them into the center of his luxurious four poster bed.
Going over to the wardrobe, Chris reached in and pulled out Ezra's clothing, which he tossed at the gambler. "Ez, we have a stage to catch and then a train." Ezra glared at Chris as the gunslinger dug through his chest of drawers pulling out his underclothes which he tossed onto the bed. "If you make the stage late with your dilly-dallying we may miss the train and then I'll-," Chris recited as he dug out the gambler's carpetbag from the bottom of the wardrobe and threw that onto the bed.
"You'll have to shoot me. Yes, yes I know." Ezra sighed as he neatly folded his clothing and piled it on the bed. "We will not be late, but I still don't understand why I have to go on this farce of a journey? I'm sure they can find plenty of good Samaritans closer to Denver who would be willing to testify against Joseph Hines. We had the unfortunate luck of running into him over two months ago. It is not our fault that he escaped incarceration in our humble little town. He's being charged as a horse thief and they'll hang him anyway, whether we are there or not."
Narrowing his eyes at the gambler for the space of a heartbeat Chris pulled a toothy grin, "Just think, the big city. I'm sure there are plenty of gamin' tables you can visit while we're there."
"If that is supposed to placate me it isn't working." Ezra flopped dejectedly onto the bed and rubbed his aching temples. They hadn't even gotten on the stage yet and he was already dreading the journey.
Cocking an eyebrow at the gambler Chris stood at the foot of the bed and waited.
Ezra shot the gunslinger a scandalized look. "I will not perform my morning ablutions while you remain in this room." He could be just as stubborn as Four Corner's stalwart gunslinger, he thought to himself. Ezra just hoped he possessed the same fortitude as Mr. Larabee.
Chris waited and waited some more but Ezra did not budge. Perhaps he should back off so they could at least make the stage. Chris realized he was going to have to pick his battles carefully since it appeared the gambler was just as stubborn as he was. At this rate they'd never get out of the saloon. Chris decided to concede this battle. "Fine, do what you want. The stage leaves thirty minutes with or without you." Chris left the room without further comment.
"Wonderful." Ezra plodded over to the door and pushed it shut. And since Mr. Larabee had seen fit to destroy his lock he had to use a chair to keep it closed. "I foresee an eventful excursion and am dreading every mile of it."
~o~
The stage driver looked down from his seat at the gunslinger standing nearby. "I can't wait here all day, got a schedule to keep. Maybe your man changed his mind?"
"He'll be here. Just be ready to go when he shows up," Chris called up at the driver and glanced up the street in the direction of the saloon. Ezra was nowhere to be seen. Chris started pacing back and forth waiting for the gambler to make an appearance. He had specifically told Ezra the stage was leaving in thirty minutes. How long did it take to get dressed? Next time he'd just drag him down here in his nightshirt, kicking and screaming all the way. Chris smiled, an evil glint in his eye at the thought. It'd be no one's fault but Ezra's.
"If it was me, I wouldn't be getting wound so tight at the beginning of a long trip, cowboy." Vin flicked a gaze up the street trying to ignore Chris's obvious tense mood. "You'll have yourself so twisted up by the time you get to Denver, you'll be walking hunched over, scaring off all the women folk."
"I'm not going to get all twisted up." Chris huffed and rubbed at the back of his neck.
Little dust devils blew up when a light breeze meandered around the thoroughfare out in front of the stage office. The breeze did little to dispel the heat radiating up from the hard-packed street and Chris impatiently wiped at the sweat beading up on his face. He wasn't looking forward to the claustrophobic confines of the stage; the driver had informed him they would be traveling with an almost full compliment of passengers heading on to Ridge City. Just his luck, he thought, not only did he have to pass the time with a gambler who was reluctant to travel, he'd have to put up with no leg room and being squashed amongst the other passengers. This day was just getting better and better.
"Hey cowboy, I see Ezra now." Vin smirked as he stepped down from the boardwalk in front of the stage to the street. "Looks like you can start your trip now."
"Blessed be," came a retort from inside the crowded stage. "I thought we were all meant to expire while waiting in this forsaken one horse town."
"Hush yourself, man," the irritated driver called down. "Or I'll be forced to hit every bump and rut on the trip." Indistinguishable grumblings drifted from the interior of the stage and fell on deaf ears.
Ezra trotted down to the stage, huffing for breath, while carrying two carpet bags. "Never fear gentlemen, for I have arrived and we may depart without further delay."
In and effort to hurry Ezra along Chris snagged his carpetbags and threw them up to the man riding shotgun who secured them to the roof. "Are you ready? If we miss the train-."
"Never fear, my grim faced Mr. Larabee. When was the last time you knew a train to leave precisely on time?" Ezra brushed at some lint or other piece of fluff on the sleeve of his hunter green coat.
Chris yanked open the stage door and motioned for Ezra get into the stage ahead of him. "I wouldn't know. Not my preferred method of travel." Chris sighed as he climbed up and pulled the door shut behind him. Leaning out the window he called out to Vin, "Keep an eye on things while we're gone. Should only be a few weeks, at the most."
"Everything will be fine, don't worry. Good luck you two. See ya, Ez," Vin called as the stage driver clucked the horses into motion. Vin stepped further out to watch the stage head out of town. Ezra leaned out the window and waved. Vin waved back as it got smaller in the distance.
Josiah wandered up to Vin who was still standing in the middle of the street. "They get off all right?"
"Yup. I wonder who'll kill who first? Those two never been on a long trip together." Vin turned and clapped Josiah on the shoulder. "Too early for a drink?"
"Never too early. We'll just add it to the coffee and call it breakfast," Josiah laughed as they headed up to the saloon. "It is going to be awfully quiet around here without those two bickering all the time."
"Better enjoy it while it lasts," Vin sniggered as they walked through the saloon doors and out of the hot morning sun.