Perilous:
Chapter 2:
Discalimer: Thank you MOG for this great universe, and those that conceived the boys in the first place giving us this great fodder with which to write. I still own nothing but the plot in my head and my OCs.
A/N: This chapter involves the women of the Mag 7 universe quite a bit. I want to explore their relationships with the boys more in this story than the last. Thinking of adding a potential love interest for Vin, what do you all think? But worry not, lots of the boys coming up!
-/-
"First you shut me out, then you turn around and ask for help," Hunter muttered to Ezra lowly as she stepped inside Chris' office. "Girl could get whiplash."
"Don't be smug," Ezra grumbled, shutting the door behind her. "Your face will stay that way."
"Oh, you mean like yours?" Hunter asked.
"Do I need to separate you two?" Chris looked up at the two from over over his computer monitor. "And it's just. So. Damn. Early." The sarcasm was not missed for the dry delivery. Thorns in his ass, the both of them. A bigger thorn when they were together. Wonderful.
Hunter let out a huff and sat heavily in one of the rooms two chairs, arms crossed over her chest. Petulant. Ezra managed to lock his retort behind his teeth. Chris was already prickly and much as the others sometimes wondered, he didn't actually go looking to have his ass chewed. The leader of Team 7 reverted his attention to his computer long enough to finish the email he'd been writing, before emerging from behind his desk.
"Alaveri," Chris said simply. "What do you know and what's the best way we get to him?"
"Well hello to you too Chris." The man's expression remained as readable as a hunk of stone. Hazel eyes narrowed and Hunter sat up, leaning forward in the chair. "You gonna give me a little impression on why you want to know?" Ice blue eyes were unreadable as they bored into hers. Chris' face didn't so much as twitch. Hunter sighed. "Yeah yeah, fine. I'm your encyclopedia Britannica of Chicago crime. Leave me all dusty on a shelf, pull me out at your convenience and then put me back when you're done, till the next time you need me."
"Hunter," Chris growled. She did indignant and stubborn well, best to head her off at the pass.
"Encyclopedia Britannica?" Ezra chuckled. "Who even makes that reference anymore? How old do you think our estimable leader is?"
Chris's eyebrows lifted as he slowly turned his gaze on his undercover agent. "Not helping Ezra," he grumbled. "Hunter, Alaveri. Talk."
Her lips pressed together and she sighed again. "Alaveri's an opportunist, always has been. Mostly a stolen goods and counterfeit handbags out of the back of his trunk kinda guy. Became a driver for my folks when he turned 18. Which he used to get to know every street level player around. And he knows the roads, all the best routes in and out of Chicago. Affable enough guy, never ruffled feathers, toed the line. Always kinda managed to be in the right place, at the right time, in with the right people. So he always seemed to kind of fail upwards, you know?"
Hunter's fingers drummed against the arm of the chair. "After I quit here and went back to Chicago, Alaveri owned a small shipping company and a couple tenement buildings in Fuller Park and Englewood. I'm honestly a little surprised he'd get in bed with a gun runner. Alaveri's always preferred to steer clear of anything that might get him a life sentence. Your boy Erikson must be promising one heck of a pay day, and pretty damn solid assurances he won't get touched."
Chris's forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows shot upward. "How do you know who…" he trailed off, realizing he already knew the answer. "…Vin," he said flatly. Hunter's lips spread in a mirthless smile. Chris ran a hand over his face. Herding cats. And children. Title be damned, his whole life was herding cats and children. Still, wasn't much he could do about it, not like he could gag his sharpshooter long term. "Never mind. Doesn't matter. How do we get to Alaveri, get him to back off this deal?"
"He's risk averse," Hunter said. "And from what I understand, he's got an Alderman or three in his pocket. Probably a cop or two if I had to guess. Helps him get around pesky things like keeping his buildings up to code, and around any potential police roadblocks in or out of the city. If one of the Alderman lets it slip that they're planning on increasing routine police inspections of trucks coming into the city, my guess is Alaveri pulls out. He's greedy, but not reckless."
"Okay," Chris ran a thoughtful hand over his jaw. "Easy enough. Put pressure on a corrupt politician to put pressure on our guy. Keeps us one step out of it we play it right. That could work." He rapped the top of his neck once with his knuckles. "Any chance you got a name of said Alderman?" he queried.
"Nope," she answered quickly.
"Hunter," a low growl slipped into his tone, "there are fifty Alderman in Chicago. Odds are pretty terrible we dart board the right one."
"I got a couple people I can ask," she volunteered with a shrug.
"All I need is a name Hunter."
"Yeah, yeah I know, this is me, not getting involved." She cast a sideways glance at Ezra, who had been uncharacteristically mute throughout their exchange. The undercover agent kept his gaze focused ahead of him. "I'll let you know when I hear something."
"Faster is better Hunter."
"Usually is."
Chris gave a tight nod. "Thanks."
"Thanks? That's it? All that and I don't even get a cookie?" She lifted a brow at Team 7s black clad leader, the corner of her mouth quirking upward.
Chris couldn't help himself, he grinned. "No cookies, but how about I buy you a beer later?" he ventured.
"Hunter perked up. "Saloon?" she asked, naming the Team's favorite local haunt. Chris nodded. She rose from the chair, hazel eyes twinkling. "Think I'll take you up on that. But Chris…"
"Yeah?"
She smirked. "You're not just buying me one beer. You're buying all my beers." Then she canted her head towards Ezra and shot him a wink. "And you're driving." She left the office. After one slightly exasperated look in Chris' direction, Ezra followed close behind.
He caught up to her near the elevators. "Hunter…" he began.
"You want to swing by home to get me, or should I just Uber over around 6?" she cut him off. She didn't need any more cautionary warnings. She'd heard them. On repeat. She punched the down button maybe slightly harder than absolutely necessary.
He tried again. "Hunter…"
"It's a phone call Ez," she rounded on him, "not a deep cover op. One you all are asking me to make no less. So spare me any more lectures and let's go a little less crazy with the bubble wrap huh?" The elevator doors pinged and slid open, and she pivoted on her heel. When she turned, she found Ezra holding the door open with one hand.
"If you dained to give me a moment to actually speak, you'd realize there is no lecture forthcoming. And let's be totally honest, you in a suit of bubble wrap would not keep you safe, only allow you to be highly irritating. More so." He flashed her a grin. The words of caution and care died on his lips. He didn't want to fight with her. He was pushing her away, he was pushing them all away, and had been. He could feel himself do it, only he didn't know how to stop himself either.
After the Wallace case, all the old self doubts had risen like specters in his mind. He was a screw up. The Team deserved better than him. All he ever managed was to get those around him hurt, and a thousand other tiny niggling voices. Because they were true. Wallace had been able to get to the Team because of his past, and it had cost lives. It had nearly cost Vin's life. Hunter's life. Red marks on his ledger. Blood on his hands that never came clean. A rush filled his ears….
"…Ezra?"
It took him a moment to realize that Hunter had been talking to him. She was staring at him, her forehead wrinkled in concern, earlier annoyance fled. It was a wonder really, how she managed that so quickly. He took a breath, schooling his face into neutrality. "Don't waste money on an Uber, I'll pick you up," he said, brusque. Hunter's lips pursed, dissatisfied by his answer. Whatever was going on with him, she wished he trusted her enough to tell her. But he didn't. And there was nothing she could say in an elevator that was going to change it, so she didn't try. The door slid shut.
-/-
The Saloon was a bar in central downtown Denver, walking distance from the federal building that housed the Denver ATF. It harkened back to the old West, from the batwing doors that separated the bar from the main entrance, to the dark, polished wood of the bar, the flooring that had the look of distressed wood and the numerous photos and paintings on the wall that depicted Denver back in the pioneer days. The bar itself hosted a well stocked collection of whiskey, gin and tequila, and the cocktail menu offered up a few historically accurate suggestions, like the Sazerac, a drink created in New Orleans in the mid 1800's, which was fairly popular, and the Mule Skinner, a mix of Whiskey and Blackberry liquor, which was less so.
Beyond the bar was a small kitchen, which offered up various iterations of fried bar food as well as a pretty decent burger. Inez, the Saloon's owner and manager, and longtime friend of Team 7 would occasionally make specials in the kitchen that usually sold out before the night was through. She'd made the Saloon a popular hangout among the locals, hosting trivia nights and twice yearly 'Poker for Charity events. A dart board and two pool tables sat in the back of the space. Inez was wiping down the bar when Chris, Buck, Vin and Josiah came in. At 6:30 on a Friday the bar was still relatively quiet.
"Just the four?" she asked, already busying herself preparing their drinks. She slid Chris his first. Whiskey, neat, didn't come much simpler than that. Chris picked up the glass, thanking her with a nod.
Buck leaned his lanky frame over the bar. "They'll be along. My goodness Inez," he let out a sharp whistle, "anyone tell you just how lovely you're looking tonight?"
Beer glass in one hand, Inez placed the other on her hip. "No. I was just waiting for you. Since you say it every time you're here."
"That's because every time I see you, you're looking more lovely than the last," Buck said, his smile growing. Inez rolled her eyes and handed Vin his IPA.
"Thanks Inez," Vin said. As he passed behind Buck, Vin patted his shoulder and leaned closer. "Nunca Buck," Vin teased, reminding him of Inez' response the first time of many that Buck had asked her out, "nunca." Long, dark hair swung over the bar owner's shoulder as she stifled her laugh with her hand, dark eye twinkling. Buck really was fun to tease. Sometimes, just sometimes, she wondered what it would be like to say yes. And then her better angels would cry on her shoulder, and she'd rebuff him again with a smile.
Nathan arrived with his longtime girlfriend Rain not long after Inez served Buck his whiskey on the rocks and Josiah his Pabst. The five men retreated to the far corner of the bar, claiming the area around the pool tables for their own. Really, it would be a few hours yet before anyone would come looking to claim them away. Try anyway. Ezra, Chris, Vin and Buck were all formidable pool players, and Josiah better still. It wasn't often they lost their table.
"Sammy give us a way in?" Vin asked Chris lowly, leaning back against the chest high shelf that wrapped around the walls of the bar's gaming area. He set the IPA next to him.
"Maybe," Chris conceded, taking a sip from his tumbler. "She's making a call. Trying to find us a name."
"So we're sittin' in time out till then."
"Yep," Chris confirmed.
"And if she don't come through?" Vin asked.
Chris lifted a brow. "Think she won't?"
"I think it's been near on two years since she was in it," Vin shrugged. "Players change."
Chris regarded his sharpshooter curiously. The younger man didn't meet his eyes, his attention focused on Buck as he racked the table. Chris shook his head once. "That's awful big brother of you."
"What?"
"She can get us a name Vin. You just ain't sure you want her to."
Vin's tongue ran over his bottom lip. "Last time cost her a lot," he said finally. And he didn't just mean the physical toll. Sam had stayed with him for a while. There were the things she carried still, that weren't nearly as simple as a bullet.
"Last time cost everyone a lot," Chris observed, his voice sharper than he'd intended. Vin let the matter drop. Luckily, as the batwing doors swung open once again, the beautiful blonde that entered diverted Chris's attention from the conversation. The stiff lines in his jaw softened, as did the ice in his eyes. Mary Travis, longtime friend of Team 7, reporter and daughter in law of the Team's boss 'Judge' Travis, came in with JD and his girlfriend Casey just behind. She scanned the room quickly before finding Chris and Vin in the corner and offering a shy wave.
"Careful pard," Vin said wryly, "keep that up you might just smile."
"Shut up Vin," Chris grumbled, but the corner of his lip tugged upward.
"You invite her?" Vin ask.
Chris shook his head. "Nope."
"But you ain't mad she's here," the sharpshooter observed. He knew the answer already of course, Chris and Mary had been spending an increasing amount of time together since the Wallace case and Mary's abduction. One small, good thing to come out of the ordeal, at least. Though both of them danced around actually labeling what they were doing, But it tickled him to put Chris in a position to say it. The blonde man just glared at the sharpshooter. Vin sipped his beer and grinned. "Yeah Chris, you should know, the glare doesn't work ALL the time."
Chris shot his friend a withering look. "Quit talking and rack the table huh?"
Mary and Casey settled at a table with Rain and Nathan, while JD came to join the others at the table, placing his quarters down for the next game. Casey sat stiffly, her shoulder turned away from JD. "Everything all right?" Vin queried, gesturing toward Casey with his cue.
Thumbs hooked through his belt loops, JD shrugged. "Aw hell Vin, you know how girls can be,"
"Women," Buck corrected with a pat on the younger man's shoulder, "it's women. And our little Casey is a fine one. Don't screw that up."
Ezra and Sam showed up halfway through Chris and Vin's first game. Inez quickly poured Sam a beer and prepared a Sazerac for Ezra, before ducking out from behind the bar to join the group with a glass of tequila. She and Sam pulled chairs up to the table. Ezra headed swiftly toward the others. The earlier tension between he and Nathan had yet to subside, so he made himself scarce from the medic's presence in short order.
The bar grew busier as the night wore on, though it was still early for the Friday rush, and Inez was well staffed, but she still rose occasionally to greet some of her regulars. Eventually Mary and Sam made their way to the pool tables. Mary fished a quarter from her slacks and laid it down. "Doubles next?" she asked.
"Oh sure," Buck said, "just let me and Ez here finish off Vin and the pup real quick."
The taller man's shoulders hunched as JD swatted the back of his head. Though in truth, he and Vin were four balls down and Ezra was on a roll, so Buck was probably right. Just as well, JD supposed. Casey hadn't been particularly happy when he'd mentioned their new case on the way over. He should spend a bit of time soothing feathers. Even though she was being ridiculous.
The game finished on Ezra's turn. JD headed for Casey, Inez, Rain and Nathan. "You ladies are welcome to play slop," Buck offered cheerily, earning him a dark look from Sam as she racked. They'd played each other enough for him to know just how much that irked her, which is why she guessed he always did it. She could hold her own with everyone but Josiah, or Ezra if he was having a good day, and Buck knew it.
"We're good Buck," Sam said, same as always, "no slop needed."
"Or we could break up the teams," he suggested. "Just want to give you ladies a fair shake." He sidled up beside Mary. "You know the rules Mary?"
"I think I can muddle through," she assured him. She went to the wall to choose a cue, grinning at Chris as she took one off the wall.
Team 7's leader leaned back, hiding his grin behind the rim of his whiskey. Buck had never played Mary before. He looked over at Vin, who had rejoined him by the wall after his loss. "I'm gonna enjoy this," he told the sharpshooter lowly.
"Best of three," Mary said confidently, "scotch doubles. Call your shots."
Buck's eyebrows lifted, while Ezra's scrunched. The southerner had never played Mary either, but he wasn't as quick to jump to conclusions. Hunter came to stand beside him, beer in hand, amusement on her face. "Something you care to share with the class?" he murmured. Hunter's grin just grew and she bumped him with her shoulder and took a drink of her beer.
Buck broke, and between he and Ezra they managed to sink four balls before Ezra missed a particularly difficult bank shot. Mary and Sam matched them before Mary sank a fifth. Buck whistled appreciatively. "Well damn Mary, guess I better get serious now."
Mary and Sam wound up winning the first game and losing the second. The third game evolved into being as much about defense as it was offense, leaving the cue ball in untenable positions for the other side. They'd been deadlocked with three balls left each for three turns now. Buck moved to take his next shot. As he moved into position, Hunter unzipped her hoodie and shrugged out of it, the black tank top underneath clinging to her frame and cut low enough to suggest at what little cleavage she had. Then she pressed her hands on the table, leaning forward just to the right of the pocket Buck was aiming for. The tall man's eyes kept shifting away from the nine ball. Ezra came to stand beside her, murmuring into her ear, "that's cheating," he accused, not without amusement.
"Hey," Hunter grinned, "not my fault your partner can't keep his eyes on the prize."
"Oh I got my eyes on the prize darlin'," Buck piped up. "Only the prize ain't got nothing to do with pool." He struck the cue, which glanced off the nine and whizzed haphazardly across the felt. Game momentarily abandoned, he trotted around the table to Hunter's other side, bumping her hip with his. "If you catch my meaning," the ladies man said as he winked.
"Buck, even the bar back across the tavern gets your meaning," Ezra said dryly. "You're not subtle."
Mary leaned on her cue opposite them, laughing. "If you three are done, Sam, it's your turn."
Sam shooed Ezra and Buck away to take her shot, which she made. Mary sank the 2 after that, leaving a clean, though long shot on the 4 for Sam. Ugh, she hated the long ball. Still, she managed it, though her leave got away from her, burying the cue ball behind Buck and Ezra's 15. "Sorry," Sam muttered.
Mary waved off the apology, blue eyes flicking over the table. "Buck," Mary said as she set down the chalk and sauntered over for her shot. "I ever tell you how I met my husband?" she asked, eyes never leaving the table.
"Uh, don't think so Mary," Buck replied, puzzled.
"At a bar, end of summer break before our senior year in college." She straightened. "We played pool." She pointed at the far corner pocket with her cue. "I won all his text book money off of him. Then he begged me to give it back, said if I did he'd take me out to dinner." She bent over, striking the cue ball with authority. It sailed past the 15 ball to the rail, rebounded off that into the 8 ball, which flew into the opposite rail and the whizzed between the 9 and 11 to drop into the corner pocket. The grin grew on her face and she shrugged. "He was cute, so I said yes."
Ever in good humor, Buck tipped his head back and laughed before wrapping Mary in a one armed hug. "We got ourselves a shark here Chris!" he crowed. "You know Mary here was a wolf in lamb's clothing? What's wrong with you, leaving your oldest friend out to dry like that."
"Cuz it's fun watching you swing," Chris told him. He turned his eyes on Mary and smiled. A genuine smile that softened his face and lit up his eyes. Mary ducked her head as a blush threatened to creep up her neck. It was disarming, that smile.
Mary excused herself from the group and headed back to the table with Casey, Inez and Rain, all of whom began to clap. She laughed and curtsied dramatically, pretending to hold skirts out to the side. Sam moved to follow, minus a quick detour to the bar for another beer. While she waited for the bartenders to return, Ezra slid up beside her, close enough that their legs brushed. She could smell his scent, warm spices and whiskey. God he always smelled good. She bit down on her lip, trying to ignore the goose flesh that raised on her arm.
"You knew of Ms. Travis' prowess on the billiards table I take it?" he asked, setting his now empty glass down, the ice clinking against the side.
"We've played a few times," she answered. "99% of the time she kicks my ass. Just be glad you boys didn't bet," she wiggled her eyebrows, "then she takes it seriously." The bartender returned with her beer, and Ezra asked for a Pilsner. Only one whiskey drink, he was driving after all. He eyed the tulip glass on the bar in front of Hunter. "Some dreadful sour concoction I take it?"
"Plum and lychee," she affirmed. Then rolled her eyes. "Says the guy that finished off my key lime pie Berliner Weisse a few weeks ago."
"I admit nothing." Ezra smiled then reached for the tulip glass. Playfully, Hunter batted at his hand a few times before letting him take it. They were both laughing when he tasted it, his mouth puckering. "Yes, dreadful, as predicted." He tried to keep his voice solemn and failed. He took a second drink, warding off Hunter and her protests with his left hand.
Unbeknownst to them, Chris watched the exchange as he racked for another game. His undercover agent had been a source of more than a little concern these past months. It was good to see a glimmer of the Ezra as they'd come to know him, outgoing, friendly, and with enough charm and charisma to win over even the most reticent suspect. "Good to see him laugh," he said to Vin, who was chalking up a cue, and with whom he'd spoken to about his concerns before. After all, Vin was the one who joined Ezra undercover most often. The man's state of mind effected the sharpshooter too. "Those two are…"
"Idiots," Vin interjected as he bent over for his break. "That word you're looking for cowboy? Idiots." He shot, a solid strike that sent a rainbow of colors careening over the felt. "But yeah, nice to see Ez bein' Ez."
When Ezra's beer arrived, Hunter managed to get hers back. She glanced over her shoulder toward the table with Mary and the other women. "I should get back," she said as she turned away from the bar. The feeling of Ezra's hand on her wrist stopped her in her tracks. The touch was soft, the quick caress of his fingers brushing over her skin.
"Ride with me tomorrow?" he asked. He let his hand drop from her arm.
All the members of Team 7 kept horses out at Chris' ranch in the foothills just outside of Boulder. Chris had a few others he kept for resale. One, an off the track thoroughbred named Tap, had proven himself unsellable, and after Chris got sick enough of the ornery gelding lawn darting everyone that came to try him, he'd given up trying. Hunter had ridden the horse a few times not long after he'd arrived at Chris' ranch a couple years earlier and when she returned Tap had somehow become her default mount. At times she wondered if it was Chris' idea of a joke. But really, they got on well enough, and it had been a while since she'd gone for a ride.
"You have time for that with the case?" she queried.
Ezra shrugged. "We are bogged in the mire until we procure that name to shut down Alaveri's involvement. Might as well use it to give Chaucer a good turn of foot," he said, naming his wily, oft mischievous horse.
"Well then sure," she said, a pleased smile creeping to her face unbidden. "I'd like that."
"Good," Ezra nodded once. "I'll leave you to it. But don't be surprised if Buck wants a rematch." Hunter touched two fingers to her temple in acknowledgment. Then they parted ways.
Hunter caught the look on Mary's face when she sat down. "Don't start," she grumbled. Mary and Inez giggled. "Where's Casey?' she asked. When cornered? Deflect. Nathan and Rain were playing darts over by the pool tables, but she didn't see the younger woman anywhere.
"Outside," Mary said, index finger lifting to point at the door. "She went with JD a bit ago. They didn't seem too happy."
The moment the words left Mary's lips, the batwing doors swung open again, Casey in front. JD trailed behind her, head down, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He went to the bar. Casey headed back to the table, her face flushed, eyes red. She sat heavily in her chair, reached for Inez's glass and took a long drink. Tequila. Straight. The dark haired woman's mouth dropped a bit before she winced. As soon as Casey swallowed she began to sputter, and Mary quickly slid a glass of water in front of the younger woman. "You okay?" Mary asked gently, a hand resting lightly on Casey's forearm.
"I hate this," Casey announced after chugging half the water. "And JD is treating me like I'm crazy, but I'm not, I'm just worried. And he just brushed it off like it's nothing. This is their first big case since…" she trailed off, eyes jerking toward Sam, who stiffened before quickly bringing her beer to her lips.
It was true enough. On top of a month long leave post incident, Team 7 had largely been assigned mundane cases in the aftermath of the 'Seven Sins Killer's' spree the summer before. Licensing reviews of gun shows and weapons dealers in the area as well as shooting ranges and a few continuing education seminars in explosives handling. The optics surrounding the Wallace murders hadn't been good for the ATF or Team 7. So the brass upstairs, Mary's father in law included, had taken them off more high profile cases, much to all of the Team's chagrin, though apparently not Casey's. Not that it was hugely surprising, Casey had lost a good friend to the madman, who'd live streamed the whole thing to boot.
"Do you know whats going on?" Casey asked Sam. "JD won't give me any details and I just…" she drew a deep breath, "I need to know."
Sam took another drink from her beer. She already wasn't supposed to know as much as she did and she really, really didn't want to put herself in the middle of a lover's squabble. "Ezra hasn't told me anything either," she told Casey. Which was true, technically. Vin had. "But look, this is what they do, and they're good at it. They're always all right."
Casey's chin dropped and she leveled Sam with a withering look. She was in the dark, not stupid. "Okay, okay," Sam amended, "they're almost always all right." She set her glass down. It was empty anyway. "But Case it's not like this is the first time. What's got you all twisted this go round?"
"I get it now," Casey said sadly, "in a way I didn't before. The stories, the way they tell them? They just gloss over the bad parts. But since Lucia died…" she trailed off. Beside her Inez muttered something lowly in Spanish that sounded like a prayer. Lucia had worked at the Saloon, had been abducted from the parking lot. Inez slid a hand over Casey's and gave it a squeeze. "Since then I can't even listen to them," she explained. "And I just have this horrible feeling in my gut that won't quit." Casey sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I wish you were still working with them."
Sam's lips thinned and she rose. "Gonna get another beer," she said stiffly.
Mary followed her to the bar. "You wish you still were too, don't you?" the reporter asked.
"Doesn't matter either way." Sam drew the attention of the bartender. "That's a ship long sailed."
"But you do," Mary pressed.
Sam ran a hand through her hair. "Teaching a bunch of guys to kick the crap out of each other in a metal cage isn't quite as fulfilling, no. But it's the bed I made. So now I get to lie in it."
Mary had the good sense to know the topic of conversation was closed. "Come on," she urged, "let's get Casey a beer and then go serve Buck up round two."
It was ham handed, as far as changes in topic went, but Sam appreciated the gesture. A little bit of the tension that had built eked out of her shoulders. When in doubt, deflect. It was a good rule. So she leaned into it. Sam grinned. "Sure. Or is it you just want to go make puppy dog eyes at Chris some more?"
"Oh pot Sam, meet kettle," Mary said dryly.
Sam looked back at the blonde reporter innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Uh huh." Then Mary barked out a laugh and hooked her arm through the other woman's elbow. "Come on," she said, half dragging Sam away from the bar, "we've got a game to win."
-/-
The smell of brewing coffee reached Ezra's nose when he strolled out from his room the next morning at the crack of 10am. It helped rouse him a little from his morning sluggishness. He walked toward the kitchen in socks, tucking the back of his hunter green button down into the waist of his jeans. His boots were relegated to his hall closet, rather than the rack of dress shoes in his walk in closet, so he'd grab them when he got his jacket.
Hunter's door was open, but it appeared empty. The bathroom door was closed. Ezra retrieved a large travel mug from the cabinet and filled it, leaving just enough in the pot for a couple cups. He poured the rest into two mugs, dropping in a single sugar cube in his, and three in Hunter's before topping both off with milk. It was a process that was not unfamiliar. Then he leaned back against the counter and took a sip, the mug pleasantly warming his hands.
Hunter came out of the bathroom, dressed for riding, long hair knotted in a messy bun. She approached, her mouth pulled down, face taut. She jerked her chin at the cup in his hands. "Feel human enough for words yet?"
"Presently," he assured, "presently."
"Think we're gonna need to raincheck our ride," she said. Instantly, Ezra's green eyes sharpened, last vestiges of sleep grogginess burned out of them. Hunter held up her phone. "My guy came through, got you a name." She blew on her coffee before taking a drink. "Already sent it to Chris. So if that's all you were waiting on I expect…" Ezra's phone let out a muffled ding from his back pocket. "… that," she finished.
Ezra had already pulled out the phone to read the text. The muscles around his cheekbones tightened almost imperceptibly. Ezra set the mug of coffee back down on the counter, and turned on his heel for his bedroom. He needed to change. They were heading to Chicago.
-/-
Chapter 2
So like I said, I wanted to use this chapter as a jumping off board for the various women in the M7 universe and their respective relationships with the guys. That was always a part of the show I wish had gotten to be explored more. But, action is on the horizon! Promise!
Please drop a review if you have the chance, I love to hear feedback!