A/N: unbeta'd dribble. It took me a while but Ezra finally presented his story of being eye candy to me. He didn't want to written from my POV so I wrote in third person.

Also, I don't own them. If I did, they'd still be riding. I have nothing of value except two boys who are entering the preteen/teenage years. Trust me when I say that I can tell it's going to be a wild ride.

7*7*7*7*7*7*7

Ezra looked around in shock. His clothes were scattered around him, as if they had been pulled off one by one and then tossed to the side. Add to that, he was sitting cross-legged on the ground! A giggle brought his attention to the woman sitting cross-legged across from him.

"Well, you seem to be down to your long-underwear and a sock." The woman grinned, as she shuffled a deck of cards. She was missing a sock and two shoes. "What are you betting this time?"

"Betting?" he asked, very confused.

"Yes. Betting."

"I'm sorry. I don't understand. I have no money on me currently."

"Ezra! We're playing strip poker!And you are loosing terribly! Which, of course, is by my design. You can either chose your article of clothing or I will." The woman smiled, broadly. "My choice would be your underwear."

Ezra blinked rapidly. "My underwear?"

"Wonderful choice. I will bet my sock."

Ezra continued to gape as the woman dealt out the cards.

"Oh. I guess I could 'remind' you that we are playing a variation of 5 card draw. No betting outside of the initial piece of clothing."

Ezra looked at his cards. "I'll take two," he said, pulling out the cards that didn't match.

The woman grinned. "I'll take three."

Ezra felt better. The woman obviously had a poorer hand, which meant he'd keep his underwear and she would lose her sock.

"Let's see your hand," she said, laying her cards down.

Ezra blanched. His nice queen three of a kind lost to a 6 high straight.

"How?" he asked. He grabbed at the woman's arms to check for any mechanism that would allow her to cheat.

"Ezra? As much as I enjoy being pawed at, I am a married woman. You're here for eye candy purposes only. And you have lost so lose the underwear."

"Eye candy? And how did I lose?"

"I'm the writer so I don't have to cheat. I just write in a better hand for myself. Now, are you going to pay your bet or do I write that I have to make you pay it?"

Ezra growled in imitation of Chris and removed the long underwear.

"I am humiliated. I'm sitting here, losing at poker with one sock on!"

"At least you're not tied to the bed..." the woman mumbled.

"What?!"

"Oops. Didn't think I said that out loud. Hmm... Eye candy..." She wiped her chin as if she was getting rid of drool. "I guess I'll have you win some more rounds now so I can enjoy the view."

"Absolutely not! We will finish this atrocity of a game! I don't know who you are, but this is the worst..."

"The worst? Oh no, dear Ezra. This might be humiliating for you but is by no means the worst. We fan fiction writers have tortured you in so many ways that this is going easy on you. You've been shot, stabbed, trampled, drowned... Oh the ways we remove that hard outer shell to show the soft, gooey hero underneath."

Ezra lowered his head. When he lifted it back up, his eyes were resigned. "Send me back! Anything is better than losing at poker!"

"Fine," she sighed. "But I'd be careful saying that anything is better than losing at poker. Another writer may actually make you play for your life... Or someone else's."

Ezra slowly blinked his eyes open. Six concerned men stood around his bed in Nathan's clinic. His last thought before drifting off in a healing sleep was that these fan fiction writers really should have something better to do than play poker.