Title: Hitmen

Author: vashsunglasses

Fandom: The Magnificent Seven

AU: The Hitmen Universe (Status-Closed without express permission from me until the story is finished. If you really want to write something, please ask, I'm a nice girl and will probably say yes as long as you link back to me and this story.)

Rating: T

Summary: AU Las Vegas is home to group of seven professional hitmen.

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Magnificent Seven" in any of its incarnations. I am not a hitman and I know nothing about assassination techniques or weapons so don't be too hard on me if I get something wrong. I am making no money from this writing and do this for my own personal enjoyment only.

Warning: The fic contains graphic violence and criminal behavior.

Note: After a nice review I was inspired to get to work and finish this chapter. I'm sorry for the wait, please just chalk it up to summertime laziness.

Hitmen Chapter Eight

A Few Days Later

Las Vegas 11:02AM

Stardust Hotel and Casino

"Buck, will you quit staring at that slot machine and pay attention? We have a job to do," Vin said, looking over Buck's shoulder at the rather generic looking 'Terminator' graphics on the machine. "The eye isn't even the right color. Since when did he have a glowing green eye anyway?"

Buck turned puppy eyes up to his friend, "Aw, come on pard. Just one game won't hurt anything."

"It'll hurt you if Chris catches you at it." Vin said, crossing his arms while he spoke with a smug tone, while secretly eyeing the blackjack tables across the room.

Buck followed his hungry gaze and smirked, his eyes lit up as his mind moved over the possibilities, "Tell you what, Vin. How about we hurry and finish casing this joint and then you can hit the tables and I can hit the slots and Chris will never have to know…"

Vin grinned and raised his hand into a lazy salute, "I like the way you think, Buck."

"Well, I don't," said a dark and dangerous voice at their backs, causing Buck to straighten up in his chair and Vin to leap about five feet to his left, placing his back against the machine and facing the man who had snuck up on them so easily.

"N-now Cowboy-" Vin started, but stopped dead at the virulent glare thrown his way. He threw up his hands as if to protect himself from the deadly blue eyes.

Buck stayed silent, but could almost physically feel the hitman's eyes burning a pair of holes in the back of his skull. How Chris could manage to glare at both of them at the same time was a mystery, but one he didn't feel stupid enough to ask about right now. Maybe one day he would be drunk enough, or stoned enough, and then he would ask and heaven help him when he did.

"Turn that chair around, Buck, and face me," Chris said in a syrupy tone that danced right up his spine. He did so, but his hands were shaking and slipped off the wheels a few times in the process. He found that he couldn't bear to meet that white hot gaze, so he rested his eyes several inches below it on his black shirt.

"Now, fellas," Chris said with a shinny grin that made Vin's head hurt, "Do you remember what happened the last time you two went gambling?"

"We lost a lot of money," Vin replied in a barely audible voice.

Chris seemed to find that answer amusing, and threw his head back in a gleeful laugh that made both men's stomachs jump, though the abrupt end to the laughter felt even worse. "You lost a lot of money," he repeated thoughtfully. "Buck!"

"Yessir," Buck answered in a strangled tone as his eyes moved even farther down Chris' shirt to rest somewhere around his waist.

"Vin's answer seems rather vague, don't you agree?"

"Yessir," Buck's gaze dropped down to the black slacks his friend wore.

"I mean, a lot of money could mean anything couldn't it? It could mean a hundred dollars, a thousand dollars, even ten thousand dollars, couldn't it?

"Yessir," he answered as his gaze fell to rest on black cowboy boots.

"But it doesn't, does it? In this case a lot of money means a lot more than a mere ten thousand dollars. So I ask you again Vin, do you remember what happened the last time you two went gambling? And try not to be so vague with your answer this time, hmm?"

Vin gulped, trying to push down the lump that seemed to block his breathing. When he next spoke, he had difficulty getting his tongue around the words. He felt a faint sense of amazement underneath his terror at the things Chris could make him feel with just a glare. "We lost twenty-five thousand dollars."

"That's right!" Chris said pleasantly, clapping his hands together in front of him like a gunshot. "And do you remember what I said I'd do to you if you ever did something like that again?" Silence greeted him in reply, "No answer from either of you?" Silence again. "Then let me remind you: I promised the both of you that if you ever pulled a stunt like that again I would shoot you and dump your bodies in the desert to rot." He read the dread in both men's eyes and felt the deep satisfaction of a job well done… and now for the kicker, "We have the whole day to check everything out so I see no reason why you two can't relax and spend some time gambling. Have fun!" Having said that, he turned his back on the flabbergasted men and sauntered towards the poker room.

That Same Day

Las Vegas 8:56PM

Westside Apartment

Nathan stared at the closed door to Ezra's private rooms and thought about his employer's recent strange behavior. It had all started when they had met up with the other assassins, with Ezra being uncharacteristically broody after the staring match with the other leader. Since then it was almost as if they were living and working with two different Ezra's, the confident leader of before and the new one, a quiet brooding one, who shut himself in his rooms for hours at a time.

"Good evening, Brother Nathan," Josiah said quietly as he walked up next to him. "Brother Ezra isn't in a very good mood so perhaps it would be wise not to disturb him unnecessarily."

"Oh, hello Josiah. I wasn't planning on bothering Ezra at all, just wondering what has got him so depressed lately," Nathan responded, turning towards the living room and waving his arm to indicate that Josiah should follow. "With the way things are looking up, you'd think he'd be happy and yet I've never seen him so upset."

They entered the lavishly decorated living room and sat opposite each other on plush red couches. Nathan pulled a small scrambling device from the coffee table and switched it on, ensuring that their conversation would remain secure from whoever it was that was spying on them Josiah took a minute to settle into the soft cushions, then spoke softly as his deep rumbling voice would allow, "Ezra is an intensely private person. He won't tell us what's wrong until he is ready to do so. The only thing we can do as his friends is wait patiently for that day and be there when it comes. But perhaps while we are waiting for him to open himself up, you and I could discuss the deep sadness you yourself have been dealing with?"

Nathan flinched at the words, turning his face away from Josiah and hiding his eyes in shadow.

"I'm truly sorry, my friend. I didn't wish to intrude where I wasn't wanted. Please forgive me," Josiah said.

"No. It's ok Josiah. You have every right to ask. I was surprised, that's all. I thought I had hidden it better than that, but I guess I was wrong." Nathan paused, gathering his thoughts. Then he said, "Today, Rain and I had lunch together at a small café near the Free Clinic. She told me that she admires me for being such a wonderful doctor and that she finds my adherence to the Hippocratic Oath inspiring. It was all I could do not to laugh, or cry, or scream. What would she think of me if she knew where I got the money to keep the Clinic running? What would she say if she knew what I do on my days off? She loves the Doctor, but could she love the Murderer?" Nathan looked deep into Josiah's eyes and saw his sadness reflected within. "How do you deal with it, Josiah? How do you deal with the guilt?"

Josiah spoke slowly and with great care, "All pain must be lived with, one day at a time. That's really all the advice I can give you. In my youth I would have spoken for an hour and given you many platitudes but as I have gotten older and my sins have gotten more numerous I have realized that all the platitudes in the world just boil down to that. I'm sorry if that isn't enough."

Nathan nodded as he mentally latched on to the scrap of resolve he had left, "Thank you, Josiah. That was enough."