(Authors note: OFCs' first names changed in Web version)

Summary: Adrian discovers that just like you can’t stop the tides, emotions can’t be held back forever.

Open fandom: Yes.  And, if you wish to discover another side of the story, read TJ's 'Aftermath…' 

  'First, you stumble…' and 'Then you fall…'

Rating: PG 

Disclaimer: This chapter couldn't have happened without TJ. To that end I have added her name to the Author recognition for this chapter. She took my confused ramblings and made a cohesive chapter, which said everything that I wanted it to. My thanks, sis!!!

*************************************************************

Reasons & Revelations

Stunned…

'Good lord…!  This isn't happening to me.' 

The dead silence in the outer office refuted that statement.

Standish would never forget the look in Adrian's eyes as she marched into the bullpen and then barged into Larabee's office. He had just sat there, unable to avoid listening to the woman he loved disclose to his boss his indiscretion with Larabee's 'girlfriend'. The green-eyed man was horrified, for, with one stupid drunken act, he'd single-handedly destroyed his life, and regretfully, taken others down with him.

What the hell was he going to do now?

There's no way he was going to be able to win Adrian back. 

He'd ruined everything.

There was only one thing he could do.

Rising slowly from the large worktable, Ezra returned to his own computer and started typing. He kept his head down and focused on the task at hand. He knew if he looked up, he'd probably see the loathing and disgust in the eyes of his teammates.

The southerner didn’t think he could stand seeing the accusation in their faces. He'd finally proven to them what a bastard he was. Ezra had always suspected that he would lose their trust one day; he just never thought it would be for something like this. Knowing that he was running, but not seeing any another option, the undercover agent finished his project and sent it to the printer.

Standing, Ezra straightened his suit and gathered up his briefcase. Striding to retrieve the paper, he quickly signed, folded it, and placed it in Larabee's In-Tray.

With that, the undercover agent walked out of the bullpen without saying a word or making eye contact with anyone.

His life there was over… time to make a judicious retreat.

~~7~~

Sitting next to the recently vacated chair, Tanner was pissed. He was fighting with himself, unable to tell if he was angrier with Standish or Lansky.

His suspicions had been nagging at him for far too long. Whatever the hell it was that was going on with Kate was driving him nuts.  The intricate maze of 'feelings' his instincts had been feeding him lately was overwhelming and they all centered on a woman he thought he knew. He found himself working different scenarios and they all left the Texan disillusioned. Her apparent 'threats' materialized when he spoke to her about Chris, and then now… this. 

He was angry at another friend now, as well as having a brand new reason to distrust Lansky. For a while now, he'd been torn. A part of him feeling they were so right together, and yet, another part of him felt Chris didn't belong with Kate at all… She was a woman suddenly proving to be someone other than the one he knew, and now… this.

Ultimately, he felt sorry for both his best friend, and Adrian. They were the innocents in this whole screwed up equation. And while it was obvious that Ezra at least felt remorseful about his recent behavior, Kate looked completely unaffected by Delaney's bombshell.

Killing Standish was out of the question… damn it!

Could Tanner calm down enough to talk to the man today or should he wait?

The second option sounded like a better idea. That way he wouldn't do or say anything he'd regret later. The damn fool hadn't even looked at him since Delaney's explosion… Vin could only imagine what was going through the southerner's mind, and he couldn't help but wonder what he was up to now.

~~7~~

JD kept his head down.

The young computer expert didn't know what to think. He was certain however, of, one thing… he was thankful that he'd already had his psyche evaluation. He was pretty sure that he wouldn't have passed had he gone in after finding out about Kate and Ezra.

How could Standish sleep with… with her… with Lansky of all people?

Not that he'd ever looked at her as a woman, mind you. She was kinda pretty and all, but she was… well hell, she just one of the guys, and certainly wasn't Ezra's type. How stupid could the guy be?

And he cheated on Adrian!! 

'And what about Kate?' Dunne thought. 'We all know that she and Chris are more than just friends. What the hell happened?'

"This just sucks!" he muttered.

Dunne chanced a glance at Kate's now empty desk.  He'd looked before she answered Larabee's irate summons, marveling that the blonde could erect a poker face just as good as Ezra's.  The computer expert was slightly surprised that he'd never realized that before, but Kate had never really displayed much emotion… accept maybe when Chris provoked it. 

That was strange… even stranger was the fact that he'd never noticed.

~~7~~

Buck sat back, closed his eyes, and took a long deep breath.

Over the last few weeks, Ezra had been acting so out-of-character. The rogue knew that Standish was self-destructing but he didn't think it was going to be this bad. 'That fool should have kept it zipped!'

Strangely, what didn't surprise him was that Kate was involved. He knew more about her than she might admit and although shocked, he knew this was just the type of stunt he should have expected from Lansky. Although he'd encouraged their relationship, Wilmington had always suspected that Kate was the kind who might avoid, rather than be drawn into an emotional bond with anyone, let alone, his oldest friend.

That sudden realization in the Saloon that Kate and Chris had become lovers was surprising in more ways than one, yet, he knew now that Larabee was hooked, really starting to live and love again. It angered him that this stunt was clearly the stubborn woman's way of keeping Chris at arms length.

~~7~~

"That stupid, stubborn, son of a bitch," Josiah muttered.

Like a rush of hell fire, the pieces of the puzzle had clicked into place with Adrian's little… announcement. The events of last Saturday finally made sense. So did Delaney's resistance to talk to him.

Sanchez just wanted to grab Ezra by the neck and shake the idiot for putting Adrian through this.

The profiler knew all about the events at the gym, and had his suspicions about how this betrayal had been exposed.

Ezra's apology yesterday started to make sense as well. His apparent 're-examination' of recent events suddenly became clear. The fool had realized what he'd done and looked to be trying to figure out a way to fix it. Unfortunately, the one person who probably should never have found out… did.

While he should be livid with the Standish, Sanchez found himself pitying the young man. The southerner may have just ruined the best thing that ever happened to him.

Keeping his face down, Josiah watched Ezra re-enter the bullpen, retrieve a sheet of paper from the printer and place it on Kate's desk. Briefcase in hand, the man walked confidently out the door.

Josiah sighed inwardly as he watched the man leave. 

He'd talk to Adrian first, then see about torturing the boy before offering his help. Of course, he could see the results of Adrian's discovery already… without her little announcement this afternoon. Kate had been right yesterday, the psyche evaluations that were dropped like a bomb in Larabee's lap smelled of revenge… pure and simple, and the profiler wondered what else he needed to ‘head off’ before it flew their way.

~~7~~

Nathan wasn't sure what to feel. He and Ezra had had their differences in the past, but the medic still considered the contrary southerner a good friend. It was funny to think that when he'd first met Standish, he got the impression that he was a coldhearted, unfeeling bastard. It took some time, but the dark skinned man now knew the truth.

It seemed that Ezra felt too much.

The problem with the undercover agent was that he was never taught what to do with those emotions… only to repress them. He didn't really have a healthy way to process his feelings.

Nathan wasn't pissed with the green-eyed man; he understood how a situation could get out of hand. Jackson thought back to the last huge fight he’d had with Rain. He, too, found himself in a position where he could have cheated on his love. It was only the intervention of a certain undercover agent that had prevented it.

This recollection made Nathan mad. If only he'd talked to Ezra instead of staying away because of the southerner's anger. Maybe he'd have been able to prevent this mess.

Mentally kicking himself, Jackson wondered why he hadn't talked to the man on Friday. He could tell that Standish was agitated when he’d returned from the gym without Buck and Vin. His only defense was that the man had quickly grabbed his jacket and flew out the door before he had a chance to intervene.

What truly puzzled the medic was Kate's part in this melodrama. While nothing was said out loud, they all knew that she and Chris were starting a relationship. Hell! They've been having one for more than a year, even if it was only now that they were adding sex to the equation. What the hell was she thinking… and with Ezra no less? Nathan groaned, "Larabee's going to kill him!"

~~7~~

Almost an hour later, Standish sat in his car, blinking surprisingly at his house. He didn't remember the trip home. One minute he was in the parking garage at the Federal Building and next, he was pulling into his driveway.

He felt like he was a hundred years old.

Blindly, Standish climbed from the Jag and headed for his front door. The steps barely registered, as though he was in some harsh unforgiving dream. Once inside, he closed the door, hoping to shut out the world. 

He paused, leaning against the cool wooden surface. Taking a deep breath, Ezra slowly acknowledged his surroundings, and a hand automatically reached for the security keypad to punch in the code. The small tones from each button drew Ezra further from his stupor and he stopped as the last number entered. Staring at the mechanism in confusion, the events of Friday inexplicably flashed in his mind.

He had no recollection of arming the system and that only served to disappoint the man.

Straightening to stare at the keypad, Ezra cursed silently. 

His memories of that night were still woefully hazy and it was driving him insane. Yet, like some bad movie, the sudden flash had revealed the images of he and Kate stumbling in the door. Standish could see himself locking it as he wrestled with the blonde. Jackets dropped and footwear went flying, the pair laughing as clothing items settled on the floor.

Another image flashed… A clear recollection of Kate walking out the front door Saturday without disengaging the lock first? 

'How is that possible' he frowned.

Eyebrows rising and then lowering at the disjointed message, Standish shook off the possible significance and angrily stalked into the living room.

There, looking at his dining table another vision hit him. He could see Kate accidentally knocking over the outermost chair as she got tangled in her shirt. As though it might bite him, the southerner tentatively grasped at the offending furniture and the cool wooden surface sent a shudder straight to his heart.  Ezra was hit with an even more confusing image… that same chair upright and pushed in beneath the table as he’d entered the room on Saturday.

Sliding his shaking hands from the offending chair, Standish turned towards the bedroom, and once more, his mind betrayed him. The recollection that assaulted him was barely recognizable as his. There he was with Kate over his shoulder. Like some Neanderthal, he’d taken her to his bedroom and hip-checked the door closed, yet, not quite accomplished the task.

Acknowledging his contemptuous behavior, Ezra turned harshly away from the bedroom door, but a ghostly image drew him back.

There had been a shape standing in the doorway. 

Ezra pursed his lips trying to see more clearly, yet the vision was shrouded… unclear… almost as though he’d perceived it as his mind attempted to awaken from its drunken sleep depraved state.

For several minutes, Standish fought to clear the memory, but nothing seemed to help.  No matter how he tried, the mirage remained masked in its veil of anonymity. Finally shaking off the amorphous shadow, he growled and turned away.

The disgust of his actions weighing heavily again, the southerner was feeling filthy beyond endurance. He stalked into his bedroom and stripped down. He was intent on cleansing himself of his perfidy, but as he stood under the stream of scalding water he knew it could never be that uncomplicated. He'd had his infidelity thrown right in his face and had been helpless to prevent those he'd admired and respected from finding out what kind of a bastard he was. Finally able to be honest with himself, Ezra was ready to know the truth, no matter how ugly or badly it painted him.

He stayed under the unrelenting stream of water until it turned cold. Climbing out and quickly toweling dry, Standish changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

Intending to secure his revolver in the gun safe, Ezra picked it up and took a step towards his closet. Inexplicably however, he stopped. His gaze drifted around the room, the sights and sounds of Friday night seemed to attack his senses all at once. Tucking the weapon into his jeans, the southerner left to room with all due haste. He knew he couldn't stand being in the room where he destroyed his life right now.

Stalking back into the living room, he grabbed a bottle of brandy. Standing in front of the liquor cabinet, he took a healthy swig. The fiery liquid burned its way down his throat, and he couldn’t suppress the shudder as it hit his stomach.

Looking at the bottle, he sighed. Getting drunk had already proven to be disastrous and he instinctively knew that it wouldn't help him now. His mind spiraled downward however, and all he wanted to do was drown his sorrows and wallow in his misery despite the fact that he knew it wasn't the answer.

Bottle in hand, he was headed towards the couch when a flash of sunlight glinted off the crystal vase that sat on his dining room table. His eyes were drawn to the vessel. For some inexplicable reason, he'd not been able to touch it for the last five days. Now, he puzzled over its appearance, catching himself staring at it, watching the light dance over the crystal planes.

Minutes passed like hours as Ezra stared at the vase. He knew it was the key… the Rosetta stone to unlocking the mystery.

Finally blinking himself back to reality, the southerner realized he was agitated beyond anything he'd ever experienced. He stalked from the dining room to the living room and back again; his pacing matching his troubled mind.

He'd done the vilest thing imaginable. Not only had he violated the trust of the woman he loved, but also, he'd violated the trust of the man he worked for. Admitting his sins to those affected would have been mere pittance, but he didn't even have the guts for that. Now, here he was... no income... no partner in life, or love... no hope. 

What the hell was he going to do now?

How could he ever make this up to any of them? 

As though in a dream, Ezra thoughts drifted back to happier times... To the night that Vin and JD had surprised him by bringing Adrian to Denver the first time. He remembered the promise he’d made to his lover that evening. He’d pledged his honesty. Promised he would never play with her affections, that he’d never lie… and that she would be the first to know when it was over.

The words hit him in the face as though he’d been slapped.

'Goddamn it! It's not over!' his inner voice screamed at him as reality came back with a vengence.

Yet, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, three words kept swirling around his brain… 'She fucked Ezra…  She fucked Ezra’. 

Over and over again, Adrian's voice rang inside his skull and when he really listened to her anger, he could hear the pain of ultimate betrayal.

His betrayal.

Turning around, the southerner looked for some form of escape from his treachery. Instead, his eyes zeroed in on the object that had puzzled him the entire week. The crystal vase…

Then, right before his eyes the vase changed from that of a flower vessel to a symbol of everything that was Ezra P. Standish... Pretty to look at, but empty inside. All flash but no substance.

Hating the object in front of him, he picked it up, cradled it for a moment, and then reared back and, with all his strength, hurled it towards the fireplace.

As if in slow motion, his eyes followed it as it soared through the air, only to shatter upon impact with the hard surface of his marble fireplace. Watching the rain of diamond like pieces fall to the ground, he was oddly satisfied at the destruction.

He would have laughed had it been anyone else in this situation. Mocking the poor bastards inability to keep 'it' tucked in his pants.

'Well, the shoe is on the other foot now Standish' he taunted himself.

His head hung low, Ezra shuffled over to the couch. Once more he tipped the brandy bottle and took another healthy swig, placing it on the coffee table when he was done. He sighed as he slumped down onto the cushions. 

It seemed that everything he was ever told growing up was true. He was a no good bastard.

Leaning back to rest his aching head, he frowned when something poked at him. Reaching behind him to remove the annoying object, the southerner was surprised to find his revolver lying in his hand. Still holding the piece, Standish closed his eyes and contemplated the cool steel in his hands, wandering whether or not it might be better to 'leave'.

Surely, no one would miss him.

After ruining everyone's life, it might be better for all concerned…

Dangerous thoughts swirling in his mind, Ezra gradually drifted off to sleep.

~~7~~

The loud pounding on his door roused Ezra from his despondent stupor. Awareness came slowly and he concentrated hard on not displacing the brandy decanter as he removed his feet from the table. Sitting up further, the southerner was dismayed to find his revolver still on his lap.

Again, Larabee banged on the portal. "Standish, open this goddamn door before I kick it in!"

Ezra suddenly became fully cognizant of his surrounding, events of the past few hours came rushing back.  Realizing who had come to call, the southerner sighed, "Ah, retribution is at hand," he muttered as he hauled himself off the sofa, setting the weapon on the table as he gained his feet.

Across the room, he keyed the alarm and unlocked the deadbolt. Returning to the living room, he hollered over his shoulder, "it's open!" The southerner stood by the small table waiting for Larabee to join him.

Entering and slamming the door, Chris shook of the rain and quickly advanced on the Standish.

The approach heralded the arrival of one of the ATF’s top undercover agents. At his best, Ezra was a ‘blank canvas'. The man could hide anything from anybody behind his 'poker face', especially when a case depended on it. 

Now, it might once more save his life…

The empty expression on Ezra's face only served to infuriate Larabee further. How could he talk to the man if he couldn't tell what he was feeling? 

The southerner looked at the senior agent and could see the anger barely concealed behind his green eyes. Inwardly, he sighed. There was nothing Ezra could say that would justify his actions so he just stood there. He figured the next move was Larabee's. For countless seconds, nothing leaked through the carefully crafted facade of indifference he presented, until finally, he raised his eyebrow as if to question the Hoosier's presence in his home.

Chris hated that insolent expression, and without warning, he gave in to the desire to wipe it off Ezra's face.

Like a cobra, Larabee's fist lashed out and caught the southerner's chin in a wicked right cross.

Despite himself, the blond was impressed that Standish didn't go down. Chris had known that move to flatten other men, Buck included. Shaking off the momentary lapse of admiration, he watched as the southerner rubbed his jaw, heaved a sigh and, flashing a wry grin, moved to sit on the couch.

'Damn… that hurt' Ezra thought as he manipulated his chin, 'the man hits like a Mac truck'. Knowing that he deserved that attack and much more prevented Standish from striking back in retaliation. Instead, he drawled, "feeling bettah?"

There was a moment of silence before Larabee growled, “No!” It was the truth, and acknowledging that fact just pissed Chris off more. He started to pace hoping to work off some of his anger.

Still rubbing his chin, Standish couldn't help but think about the force behind the man's fist and, more to the point, whether the motivations behind it were more than just the obvious.

Chris continued to pace, easily noticing the 'hard-to-miss' shards of broken vase on the floor by the fireplace. He briefly wondered what state of mind Standish would have to be in to decimate his possessions. The answer didn't sit right and he growled again, a clear indication of the anger closest to his heart. He still hadn't looked back at Ezra, and swallowing the venom of hate, he flared his nostrils.

Standish had felt raw emotion before.

Hell… he'd been in the thick of fire and brimstone, but what he sensed now was far worse. He'd done this. Brought senseless hardship and pain to all those around him. They had been nothing but forgiving over the years and here he was, screwing things up yet again.

Glancing at the table, Standish noted the brandy, and his pistol. 'Excellent' he mused.  'Fitting for Mr. Larabee of all people.' Looking back at the enraged man, he surrendered himself to whatever justice befell him. "Might I offer you a refreshment, Chris… a pistol perhaps?"

The senior agent stopped in his tracks, his head snapping to glare at the southerner.

"Oh, hell… take both," Ezra gained his feet, the brandy in one hand, his gun in the other.

Without hesitation, Chris stepped forward, sneered and snatched the weapon from the man's hands.

"Good choice," Standish smiled. "A much better instrument to exact your revenge,” he set down the brandy decanted and straightened. “Less damage to the hands... and more permanent results."

Chris looked down at the revolver angrily. Popping the magazine to check for rounds, he quickly replaced it, cocked the weapon, and then purposefully raised it to stop right between Ezra's eyes.

Resigned to his fate, Standish stood proudly… finally, someone else to take the decision from him. His life wasn't worthy the pain he'd caused... wasn't worth the pain he felt.

Life wasn't worth living without Adrian in it…

Soon it would all be over.

With a gentle smile, Ezra lowered the barriers that had defined his life up until that very moment. Revealing all to his soon-to-be executioner, he was finally at peace, yet, a sudden thought occurred to him. Raising an eyebrow and offering only token resistance, he moved the firearm to his chest. "Ah would appreciate if you aim for mah heart…" he drawled. "Thus affording Maude an open casket funeral. But, more to the point… being already broken, I no long care what happens to that particular symbol of one’s affection."

It took a moment, but blinking several times, Chris realized that the undercover man was more serious than he had ever seen him. Ezra was honestly ready to die for… for what…?

Until that moment, Larabee hadn't realized that he had actually considered shooting his colleague in cold blood.

Time stood still…

Inwardly, the blond shook himself, abruptly edging his way back to reality.

There was more going on here... more than just the facts he knew, and Larabee was suddenly aware that doing away with his friend would solve nothing. Compelled inexplicably to ‘talk’ this out, rather than ‘act’, Chris withdrew the pistol, slowly popped the clip to set it on the coffee table. Clearing the breach, he watched the single round sail through the air.

Instinctively catching the soaring bullet, Ezra contemplated it for a moment. Then, with the same smirk that earlier caused Larabee to hit him, Standish flipped the round back at Chris, "you might want to earmark this particular round for later," he offered.

 

The blond’s nostrils flared at the blatant remark. He'd damn near shot the man and here Ezra was still trying to incite him. Chris was unable to find humor in any of this.  "Cut the crap, Standish! Just tell me why!" the team leader snapped. He'd had enough games, distractions, and double talk, now he wanted answers.

"Why?” the southerner repeated. 

Glancing from Larabee’s fierce green eyes to stare at the far wall, Ezra’s concentration seemed to wander and his expression grew serious. “Why,” he said again, the only vision in his mind’s eye was Adrian Delaney. “A plethora of queries,” he drawled. “Why am ah a two timing bastard?” a hand traveled coarsely through his locks. “Why didn’t ah listen to her when I had the chance.” 

A moment passed and Ezra blinked away the mindless wanderings to looked back at Chris. From Larabee's sneer, it was apparent that these weren’t the questions his ex-leader was interested in. “Why did ah sleep with your woman, Mr. Larabee?” he asked matter-of-factly. 

The shrugged came next.

There was a long pause as the man considered the actions Larabee was here to confront him about. No fabrication could ever be worthy… hell; he couldn’t even justify the affront to himself, so Ezra decided to be honest. “I am appalled to admit that I don’t remember much,” the southerner sighed, “but, honestly… sleep wasn’t a large factor.”

Larabee’s jaw clenched as he tried hard to listen to the tone of Ezra’s voice rather than his words. The southerner seemed to be genuinely confused, despite the usual flippancy that clearly, was still there. "What the fuck do you mean you don't remember?" Larabee barked back, ignoring the latter remark. "Sleeping with Kate is Not something you forget!"

The shear forwardness of Larabee’s statement had Standish smirking briefly. Ashamed that he understood the truth of the statement, Ezra took a moment, glancing away to regain his composure. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he thought back to the events of six short nights ago. "When ah left the gym on Friday…”

“Friday!” the blond’s head snapped to attention.

Interrupted by the sudden outburst, Ezra tried to ignore the glare he was receiving. “When ah left the gym, ah went straight to the saloon,” he recounted as calmly as he could. “Ah believe ah consumed two full bottles of whiskey before leaving, Mr. Larabee. My recollection of the remainder of the evening is… clouded, shall we say." Looking his leader straight in the eye, Standish shook his head. “I don’t know why, Chris,” he whispered, “I just… don’t remember.”

The quiet honesty of Ezra’s statement didn't escaped Larabee in that moment. He focused on the words this time, not liking, but for some reason, wanting to accept what he heard. "You don't know why?" he repeated. Scowling, he shook his head, tossing the gun forcefully to the sofa as his ire mounted again. "I need an answers, Ezra and saying ‘I don't know’ isn't gonna cut it."

The two men stared at each other for a second, neither sure where the conversation would, or should, go.

Ezra sighed, uncertain of how much information he really knew.

Almost hesitant, Larabee was now undecided about how much information he really wanted. "How, then?"

Annoyed at his progress, Chris finally posed another question for Standish to answer.  Whether he wanted to know or not wasn't the issue any more. He knew his need to know would never be satisfied by Kate. The southerner was his only option. Visions of them, naked flesh entwined, had flashed in his mind for hours, and he tightened his grip on the remaining bullet before tucking it away deep in his pocket.

Ezra’s eyebrows had risen at the ‘how’, the question being rather ambiguous considering the topic. If Larabee didn’t know ‘how’ by now, Ezra wasn’t about to be the one to tell him. He couldn't help the answer he gave. "Perhaps Mr. Wilmington would be a better venue for instructions of ‘how’ in this particular subject matter.”

Chris buried his hands deeper in his pockets in an attempt not to hit the cocky southerner again. “How did you end up together?” he ground out, refusing to let Ezra’s nonchalant attitude provoke him further, thus preventing him from getting the answers he really needed to hear.

Acknowledging both the clarity of his words, and Larabee’s constant anger, Standish took a deep breath. Finding the sofa again, he prepared to answer as best he could. “If memory serves… apparently Miss Lansky was a patron at the saloon as well.” Ezra looked Chris in the eyes. “When she joined me at the bar, I… well, shall we just say that I… I believe her consumption of alcohol was far greater than mine that evening.”

“She joined you?” Chris asked as the implication of the man’s statement echoed through his mind.

Eyebrows raised, Standish glanced up at his leader and for the first time that evening, saw the shadow of doubt cross the man’s face. Larabee had obviously come to blame him for everything that happened and Ezra had been more than willing to accept that blame. But, staring at the disillusion now clouding the blond’s features, the southerner questioned his own judgment on the issue as well.

‘Perhaps this isn’t All my fault…?’

Resolved to find his answers, Chris pressed on, although his appetite for the line of questioning was waning. “Where did you… go?” he continued, his voice less venomous this time.

Standish hung his head low as he mustered the courage to answer. "Here," he replied, his eyes darting to his bedroom door.

"You brought her here?” Larabee asked pointedly, “So it was your idea?"

"No! No… I mean… there was no idea!" Ezra expressed his own agitation as he tried to recall details, "I remember… I remember Miss Inez calling a taxi... I simply gave the driver my address..." he trailed off as he realized that his actions had brought them to the condo.

Larabee stared for a moment, his confusion growing. "You're not trying to tell me this Just happened, are you?" Half-question, half-statement, Chris glared. "This didn't just happen, Ezra. Nothing just happens where Kate is concerned."

It took a moment, but voicing the words aloud, the blond was suddenly shocked at what he'd said. He was actually blaming the woman he loved for this affair and not the southerner.

Standish blinked...

Did he just hear right?

Did Chris insinuate that maybe Kate planned this...?

Ezra's eyes darted wildly for a moment. He found it hard to believe the suggestion, although it might spare him any more of Larabee's wrath. Yet… he was convinced, more than ever, that the indiscretion was truly an accident. "It just happened, Chris, believe me..." shaking his head he glanced back at the man and spoke from his heart, not his head. "We… we were beyond caring. I... I swear to you, I don't remember the whys or hows... but I do know that Kate wasn't the woman we know. There was something so... so purposeful... yet so free."

"Purposeful… free?" Larabee frowned at the combination of words. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

"She was... she let herself go. As though she didn't care… yet… like she needed to…." Ezra pursed his lips tightly. He was frustrated all of a sudden, but he knew he was on to something.

He'd been trying to explain this 'something' to himself for days but he wasn't sure he truly understood. Reaching down inside the recesses of his consciousness, Ezra dredged up the flashes of memory he'd been trying to deny... "She was... free… for just a little while." 

Exasperated, he was becoming increasingly tense as he searched for the right words.

"There were no… no barriers, Chris." Ezra took a deep breath. "She was ravenous... completely uncontrolled. She held nothing back."

Larabee scoffed at the statement, "she's like that all the time, Ezra," he spat out before he could think.

"Not that you should know...."

For a moment, the two men stared at one another.

"No…" Ezra sighed as he shook his head. "She was hungry... but the sex... it was like a statement. A declaration of her right to do it... no rules… no controls," he was angry not being able to come up with the right words.

Ezra's assertion struck a cord deep down in the blond's consciousness. He'd long since suspected that Kate held back and it pissed him off to think that another man had seen what he'd been trying to discover for a long time.

Standish watched the anguished play of emotions and it disturbed him to think that he'd witnessed something Chris hadn't.

Flashes of that evening came back to Standish as he turned away slightly to concentrate, then, at last, his training kicked in. He tried to analyze, yet it was Maude's words that finally found in his ears... 

'The eyes can't lie, Ezra.  You'll always be able to read a person's soul by their eyes.'

Standish remembered seeing confusion in Kate's eyes after their initial foray… one moment, seemingly victorious in overcoming her boundaries, yet, eventually, painfully devoid of true enjoyment.

'How could she do that?' Ezra wondered.

Where did Lansky… a woman he thought he knew so well… where did she learn to mask true emotion that way? 

Looking back, a revelation sparked in his eyes. Ezra knew why Lansky would go to such great lengths. The hows and whys weren't important after all, and the southerner couldn't suppress his snicker. "If I may be so bold, Mr. Larabee.…"

Chris stiffened at the words.

Ezra's matter-of-fact statements normally hurt more than most. Probably because he knew how to brush the world off his shoulders… but that reasoning didn't really seem important right now. "You were bold enough to fuck her, Ezra," he scowled, "spit it out."

Jerking, as if struck, Standish frowned as the crude words reminded him of Adrian's haunting words, yet, given a moment, he countered with equal vigor. "Despite appearances, Chris… I am no different than the average red-blooded American male. The love I hold for Adrian Delaney is real and I take great pleasure in showing her, emotionally and physically, whenever I am afforded the privilege."

Ezra squared his shoulders as he continued. "Love is a gift, Mr. Larabee, yet it encompasses many things… perhaps, the greatest of which are companionship, commitment, and trust."

The blond was astounded at Ezra's words. Days earlier, he'd slept with one woman, yet here he was professing to love another.

"Adrian makes me whole, Chris," Ezra whispered, his eyes rising to meet those of the man to whom he spoke. "I love her with every fiber of my being. I am nothing without her…."

It was then that realization hit Standish like a ton of bricks. Cocking his head, he smirked at the man in black. "Just as Kate… is nothing without you."

It took a moment, but Larabee's neck stiffened and he stared, his mouth agape as the frown took over his face, "What?"

Hearing the confusion gave Ezra strength and he snickered knowing they'd both been perplexed by their women… "We're both idiots," he laughed at his friend, his shoulders finally relaxing.

He laughed again as Larabee's scowl deepened. "Kate loves you, Chris. It's so simple…" he smiled, his hands raising in the air at the declaration. "She loves you, but… well," the arms came down to slap his thighs. "See, I can't begin to explain her reasons, but… I don't think she can admit it." 

Shrugging off the other man's dilemma, he continued, his mind on his own revelation.  "See, Adrian loves me, too, and she also cannot admit it." Still astounded by the news, Standish shot Larabee a cocky grin. "She love me," he elated. "But… see… the difference between you and me is that I know her reasons." Almost slipping into a state of euphoria, Ezra was talking to himself. "There it was staring me in the face the whole time. I was crowding her… idiot that I am… She… she just needs more time."

Larabee was still stuck on the fact that Standish insisted Lansky loved him. "Ezra…" he moved closer trying to get the man's attention.

"Ezra!" he waved a hand in the man's face

Drawn, with a frown, from his almost giddy mood, the southerner looked at his friend.  "Yes?"

Chris swallowed as he stared into the amused green eyes of his friend.

This was the man who, only moments ago, he had despised. A man who, minutes earlier he had hit with a vengeance, and a man who's life he had come close to taking. "You… you said… Kate loves me?"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Larabee closed his eyes and then looked away. He took a deep breath, holding it for a long time before exhaling loudly. Finally glancing back, he continued. "What the hell makes you think she loves me…? She slept with you for god's sake!"

A sudden calm came over Standish and he smiled. "She's good," he said pointedly.

Chris narrowed his eyes menacingly, fists clenching.

Shaking his head gently, Ezra clarified. "I mean at deception, Mr. Larabee. Only…." Looking at the blond scrupulously, he chewed his bottom lip. "Only… I don't think she has a choice in the matter. You see… she's afraid... Of what, I have no idea."

Straightening, Chris considered the words, a hand raising to his rub his chin. It pleased him to hear that Kate loved him, but… 'Afraid'?

What could she be so afraid of that would precipitate Friday night?

"But…" indicating the bedroom door, the blond threw his hands in the air angrily.

Looking down the hallway, Standish acknowledged the question, dipped his head, and then turned back to face Larabee. "A mistake," he offered earnestly and with a slight shrug. "I don't know… wrong place, wrong time…" Glancing at the man, he said quietly, "A desperate mistake…."

Chris looked around the room.

He focused on the shattered vase… the brandy, the gun, and finally on the man he had come to confront about sleeping with his woman. 

His woman…

There it was again…

His…

Surely, she wasn't afraid of him?

Glancing at Ezra's bedroom door again, Larabee found himself backing away from the southerner.

Suddenly, this was all wrong. 

There were two men in this room that loved their woman with every fiber of their being.

There were two men in this room who needed their women to complete them and now, Chris understood the challenge they both faced.

Kate was afraid… and he desperately needed to understand why.

This affair that had him so rightly riled was just another way for her to run away… to push him away. 

Just another of her attempts to deny what she felt.

What Chris felt…

Looking at Standish from across the room, Larabee licked at his lips.

This was all wrong.

With realization finally sent home, the man in black reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper. Glancing at Ezra, he slowly straightened the note, set it free, and allowed it to glide gracefully to the carpet. 

Larabee wasn't going to be accepting pawns or sacrifices in this drama any more…

"Resignation not accepted," he looked at his friend. He couldn't believe he was letting the man off for what he'd done, but… well… there appeared to be extenuating circumstances, the details of which he could only get from one person. "I expect to see you in the office first thing tomorrow morning."

With a gruff nod, Chris turned for the door, threw it open and left.

Advancing on the document, Standish stooped to retrieve the letter he had so hastily typed. His eyebrows raised and a genuine smile graced the once parched lips. 'Perhaps my life is still worth living' he mused…

Looking out into the wicked storm, the southerner gradually nodded. "Not early, Mr. Larabee… but… I think I'll be there."

TBC  

Like it? Hate it? Let me know. Email Me 

Home / Next