"You cannot seriously expect a bunch of grown men to sit around here and watch some damned cartoon JD!" Buck could not believe what had happened in the short time he'd been out. Ezra had not exactly been supplied for himself, let alone for company, and pickings in the fridge didn't even qualify as slim. Pizza and subs had been ordered, and Buck and Josiah had done a quick run to the corner convenience store for beer and snacks as well.

Now, the hockey game he had been watching was gone from the TV, replaced by, of all things, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.

"First off, what makes you think you qualify as a grown up Buck? This is what they call a classic Buck, it's not just some cartoon. And it's animation. Jeez – don't you know anything?"

"Whatever. Doesn't explain while we're wasting our time when there is a perfectly good hockey game on."

This was not the first time JD had been victim to Buck's view of what was and wasn't worth doing or watching, but he wasn't in the mood for his presumptuousness today. Not having to pretend to be offended by Buck's apparent callousness JD snapped back his response.

"We are 'wasting' our time on this because it is two days before Christmas, because we've all had a shitty week and a shitty day and most importantly it's because this is the show my mom and I used to watch together every Christmas. That good enough for you?"

The ensuing silence was broken only by the ongoing sound from the TV and a soft snort from Ezra. The rest of the team froze, waiting for Buck to find a way to dig himself out of the hole he tumbled headfirst into.

"Well hell kid, it's family. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" He gently punched JD in the shoulder as he walked past and plopped himself onto the arm of Chris's chair. "So, where's the popcorn?"

With only a faint blush coming to his cheeks, JD dropped himself to the floor next to where Buck had perched. "Jeez Buck, what's the matter with you. If you're watching Christmas stuff it's cookies and eggnog, not popcorn."

Josiah laughed softly. "What if it's a Christmas movie? What do you do then?"

"Yeah," Chris joined into the discussion now that the tension had been released, "you can't watch Die Hard with cookies and eggnog."

"Dammit Chris, I keep telling you that is NOT a Christmas movie. No snow, no Santa, no reindeer – not Christmas!"

"Takes place at Christmas, so that counts Nathan."

JD sought to silence them as the commercial break ended and the show returned. Throughout the conversation, Vin had kept his attention focused on Ezra, hoping the scene hadn't disturbed his needed rest. Even allowing for his current state of intoxicated unconsciousness it wasn't hard to see something was off. Ezra had a faint tension around the eyes that never would have shown itself if he'd been aware of his surroundings. And while it had been, as JD pointed out, a hard week and even harder day, Vin couldn't help but think there was more going on.

Satisfied that his charge was still sleeping for the moment, albeit less than soundly, Vin pushed himself off the floor beside the sofa and wandered to the kitchen. He wasn't surprised to find the immaculate room was somewhat lacking in provisions. Had they not made a run for supplies, there would have been precious little to eat or drink, at least by team requirements.

What worried him was the lack of any evidence of holiday planning. True, his own place wasn't exactly festive looking by most standards, but he had hung a wreath and put out the cards he'd received. And the tattered Christmas stocking he'd had since his mother gave it to him as a child still was hung every year, regardless of his circumstances. Ezra had nothing. No tree, wreath, tinsel or decoration of any kind. Not even a stray card. His space at work was equally void of ornamentation, but since he'd been on assignment no one had given that a second thought.

Gazing around again, Vin's sharp eye landed a piece of paper sticking out from beside the waste can. Whether it had been tossed there or had simply fallen was impossible to say, but in a pristinely kept home, it seemed drastically out of place. He picked it up and stood just as Chris entered the kitchen.

"Any wrong?"

Vin shrugged. "Don't know yet." He opened the tightly wadded note. "It's from Maude." He scanned over it, cursing softly as he proceeded, then let his hand drop to his side as he looked back at the still form on the sofa. "Son of a bitch can't catch a break."

Without asking, Chris took the note and read it himself. His eyes clouded over as he did.

Dearest Ezra: Whatever would possess you to assume I would abandon my plans to spend time in, of all places, Denver? The holidays are far to lucrative a time for such foolishness. You should have realized the telegram indicating I had no plans was nothing more than a ploy to ensure my invitation to the Count's Swiss Villa. Good Lord son, have you forgotten everything I taught you? If you insist on clinging to your delusion that you might somehow move past your true self and enter into the world of – I shudder to even write this – law enforcement, then you will have to accept that our paths have truly diverged. It was your choice to enter a world into which you would never really be accepted, never really fit in. Why you are surprised by that reality now is something I cannot understand. Should you ever come to your senses I will be happy to welcome you back to the fold. Your loving mother.

"So he comes back after 3 weeks of a miserable op which crashed and burned only to find this waiting for him?"

Vin didn't avert his gaze from the living room. "Yup. Then gets questioned – hell – interrogated by his own agency. No wonder he went and got drunk."

"I'd say that is a bit more than drunk. Not his best Christmas I'm guessing."

Wondering to himself whether Ezra had ever had a good one, Vin merely nodded. "Let's not share this with the others. Doubt he'd want any of them knowing."

"Doubt he'd want us knowing for that matter."

Chris wandered back into the living room, stopping next to the sofa for a moment to watch Ezra sleep. The peaceful look he'd seen earlier had now disappeared, replaced by a slight frown and furrowing of his brow. Earlier dreams had been overtaken by, if not nightmares certainly something less pleasant. He turned toward his chair, glaring at Buck long enough to send the message that he was returning to take his seat back, thank you very much. Recognizing that this was not the time to mess with his old friend, Buck reluctantly rose from the spot and back to the wide arm of the chair instead. Chris turned his attention to the TV, staring without really seeing what was on it. He was trying, with no success, to figure a way to make things right. It wasn't just the issue with the case, although that was on the list. Despite his earlier anger he knew, as did the others, that there was a logical explanation that didn't involve their teammate betraying anyone. When the dust settled, he was certain that fact would be equally obvious to the people in charge, and if it wasn't, he would find a way to explain it to them. His deeper concern was with the man himself.

If any of the others had been feeling this low, this lost, he'd have seen it. They all would have. And granted, the worst of what Ezra was going through had happened in the last 24 hours, and he'd been away from them for most of that time. That was only marginally an excuse. The truth was, he didn't really get Ezra. Chris had always prided himself on his skill at reading his team – knowing what was bothering them often before they realized it themselves. Ezra was a totally different case. The man brought new definition to poker face. The ever present smug smirk, the blasé attitude about life and the cautious distance he maintained had allowed him to keep himself out of sync with the others. In the months since he'd joined the team they all worked together just fine. On personal matters, away from work, the connection was missing. Sure, he joined them for the occasional drink after hours, and had come out for poker night on a few occasions, much to the chagrin of Buck and JD who went home broke on those nights. But the bond was missing. Thinking back on the tone of the letter from Maude, Chris was beginning to understand why. None of that helped him figure what he would do about it.

Trying not to look to obvious for fear of alerting the others to his concerns, Vin kept his eye on Ezra. He knew Chris was working on the big problem. His own focus was making sure Ezra didn't wake up suddenly and feel overwhelmed by the invasion of the team. Once this show ended he would take advantage of the break to send them on their way.

Efforts to come up with a safe reason for doing that were interrupted by quiet mumblings from the couch. He looked over to see Ezra's eyes were open and he was staring at the TV, but it didn't look like he was recognizing anything. A moment later he closed his eyes again, burrowing deeper into the pillow, almost pulling it over his head.

"Ezra – you alright?" Nathan had seen the movement as well, and worried that the aftereffects of the binge drinking were starting. He reached out a hand to make sure Ezra's face wasn't being blocked, only to have it feebly swatted away. A muttered 'buzz off' accompanied the action.

"Did he just say 'buzz off'?" Buck seemed torn between being shocked and amused. "Never heard him say anything quite so – well – ordinary."

"You aren't exactly at your most coherent when sleeping off a few too many beers. Most of the time you can't do more than grunt."

"Yeah Josiah, but I don't usually speak in 8 syllable words that nobody understands either. You have to admit, 'buzz off' is miles outside of his standard."

Risking another ineffectual attack, Nathan shifted the pillow from behind, trying to make sure Ezra remained both comfortable and breathing. "Go 'way."

"Relax Ezra. Nobody's trying to bother you." Nathan moved back. "Guess some people can't be helped."

Vin scowled at the healer as he spoke, not pleased that Ezra might have heard his comment. "I'll remind you of that next time you don't want to accept a lift home after a Friday night at Inez's bar."

"Na am is it." Vin stopped speaking, looking down at Ezra as he settled himself back under the covers again.

"Once more Ezra, maybe with a bit of more clarity?" Ezra merely snored softly, ignorant of the request.

The look that passed between Chris and Vin was meant to be private, but Josiah spotted it. "Something you two want to share with the class boys?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"Beg to differ. If you know something about our wayward son here, I think it would benefit everyone if you shared."

Chris stood firm. "Nope. Not our place to tell, and nothing any of you, any of us can do about it. Especially right now."

"If you all want to help him-"

JD cut Vin off. "Well of course we do."

"Then go home. He needs to sleep, and he doesn't need to be facing another inquisition when he wakes up."

Buck's response was to slide of the perch he'd been resting on and settle to the floor. "Nope. Not happening. He's going to see my handsome face in the morning reassuring him that I am 100% behind him."

"Goes for the rest of us too Vin. Nobody plans to interrogate him – do we Chris?" Josiah asked it as a question, but the tone made it more of an order.

"You guys do remember who's the boss around here, don't you?"

Buck grinned. "Not around here. At the office, sure, why not. But outside of that, no deal."

"Enough." Vin hissed at them. He'd been watching Ezra become restless again. "If you're staying, you are staying quiet. And for God's sake, spread out some. He wakes up during the night he's gonna trip over most of you and likely break his neck."

With a minimum of grumbling and jockeying for position the team spread out. Knowing full well that despite his best efforts Buck simply wouldn't be able to keep quiet if the hockey game was put back on JD found another movie to watch and the men all settled in for the night.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc