Hawthorn '04: Antecedent (xover with Silverado)

The rain pounded the window, hammered against the patches of tin that had repaired the shingled roof. It continued without slowing, continued as it had fallen for more than a day now.

Emmett smiled lazily and shifted further into the blankets. A rain such as this sure helped sway a man's thinking.

Arms tightened around him from behind, drawing his lean strength closer to his lover.

His eyes closed again and his smile deepened. That didn't hurt either.

Paden muttered in his ear, full lips assaulting along his skin, warm breath teasing. Emmett squirmed away, wanting to remain warmly contented, not yet ready for the glowing ember he carried hidden inside to be stoked as only Paden knew to do.

A haphazard kiss scraped down his neck when Paden rolled into him, falling back into the fullness of deep sleep.

Emmett tightened his hand around the arms securely belting his waist. He listened to Paden's breath, listened to the rain - two sounds he'd choose well before any fancy symphonies, the piercing cry of a hunting eagle - nearabouts anything else. Funny how much finer the two sang for him when meeting his ears as one, how the rain had come to make him lonely without Paden there.

He nodded, mind made up.

Tomorrow he'd wait - no need riding out just to get mired in mud. Then maybe the next day he'd ride on, continue the journey that had brought him passing back through Silverado.

Paden's luxuriant hair flopped against his jaw and tickled into his ear. His lover snorted almost delicately, arms drawing him close then relaxing - actions reminding them both of one another and the power of making sure.

It didn't take more for Emmett to succumb, sleep stealing him fast as Paden's hold. A final thought drifted through his mind before the nonsense of dreams; maybe he'd wait two days then ride.

~~~*~~~

"We ain't far and Chris said there ain't no hurry to getting back." Vin's quiet words opened into the cool of the evening air, breaking the long, comfortable silence he and Ezra had been riding in.

He looked at his lover from under the brim of his hat, easy smile warming his features. "Never seen this town 'fore - wouldn't mind a night in a bed myself, maybe even a bath." Vin's blue eyes shone with invitation and innuendo.

Ezra tapped his hand against his chin as if in consideration. "Hmm, as you put it that way... how could I refuse?" He winked. "I would loathe to be the cause of you missing an opportunity to broaden your horizons."

Vin kneed Peso - the horse side-jumped and grumbled in response, putting him exactly where he wanted to be. He was able to reach out and cup his hand along a muscular thigh, rounding until his fingers could tease Ezra's groin.

"Might get ta broadening something else while we're at it," he whispered, voice rumbling with heat.

It stole his breath when Ezra leaned towards him, burbling with an unrestrained, delighted laugh. Firm fingers demanded he lean as well, tugging at the bandana that hung about his neck. Vin's eyes closed as he smiled, lips parting with eager anticipation.

Their kiss was sound, brief and sweet - just enough to entice, to tell Vin what was in store for him later and just enough to appease. For now.

"Well then," Ezra's voice hummed with pleasure, "lead on. Tonight we shall most definitely enjoy all the fair berg of Silverado has to offer."

Vin's eyelids slid back open when they eased away from one another. He righted in the saddle, physical proximity the only negation of their intimacy. The taste of Ezra lingered, encouraging his tongue to steal out, savoring any trace that remained.

Green eyes turned sly. "As this was your fine idea I feel it is only fair you be granted the privilege of sending news of our stopover back to Four Corners and await proper response from our always equitable leader. I should hate to be credited unduly."

Ezra's face split with a pleased, impish grin. He lifted a regal hand and waved it through the air in a graceful sweep. Vin's lips twisted - a wry, tolerant expression - but he gave no argument.

He spurred Peso and on the riders sped, making haste for Silverado and the tantalizing promise of what was to come once there.

~~~*~~~

"This...business," Paden began carefully. "Will it require an associate?"

He let the offer drop casually. Emmett would understand him, would know he wasn't pressing; would know he meant with fierce sincerity to ride at the man's side without falter until this unnamed deed was done.

Emmett shook his head. "Nope. Best done alone." He shrugged easily.

It'd been two days since Emmett had ridden into Silverado - no sign of Jake or the family, just his rugged handsomeness and surety of action bringing him to find Paden, bringing him to find Paden's bed.

'Left 'em behind, safe in California,' he'd explained with a smile over their first drink together, washing away the dust just moments after entering town and locating the sheriff, reading comfortably, ensconced at his customary table inside the graciousness of the Midnight Star.

He was headed back to Texas. The territory owed Emmett five years, stolen from him while wasting away in a prison, put there for something he wasn't guilty of. It was apparent from his presence in Silverado, intent on pressing on soon as the weather permitted, that he was owed something more.

Their first drink had been followed up with a quick second. Then Emmett had slyly mentioned the hard riding and how it left a man wanting of a good place to stretch out, enjoy a lie-down. Paden hadn't needed more encouragement.

They'd remained in Paden's bed until finally trailing back down into the saloon but a few hours ago, sitting at his table to observe the town he kept peace over. Two helpings of dinner wolfed down - three for Emmett - and mellowing with the house's special reserve warming their glasses is how they were presently whiling the evening. Paden didn't give it long before cool blue eyes found his to suggest they return to his bed once more.

He stared into his drink, contemplating the amber liquid, letting the glass ramble against the tabletop as he pushed it with his fingers. Paden shook his head. He wasn't surprised Emmett didn't need him along - not even much hurt he was told such. Still, it chagrined that his friend had these ghosts clinging, requiring hard riding and leaving the family's new start in California. Old ghosts could be stubborn. His brow clouded. Old ghosts often made for bad luck.

This was the first Paden had made mention of Emmett's intentions and his willingness to go along. He wouldn't bring it up again.

"Ain't planning on staying long."

Paden looked up at the quiet words. Emmett was waiting for him, patient, forthright as ever. He could tell he'd been observed the entire of his musings.

"Just gotta go, see about cleaning up a loose end - nothing more, nothing fancy." Emmett nodded. " 'Sides. Got good reason for getting back. Fast."

The words were blunt and plain as ever, but the tone and sure meaning warmed Paden straight through, his groin perking with appreciation. He nodded without further comment, last of his stirring doubts appeased. He didn't press for the man's reasons or the what that had happened 'then' to be drawing his friend back. He trusted Emmett to have good purpose; men of their ilk and following rarely acted without it.

Beyond that and simply this was Emmett telling him it was so. For Paden that was enough.

He looked beyond the batwing doors of the Midnight Star, out to the street and the steel-gray sky that clung to the earth, now growing darker as night shouldered over them. It'd been a full day of low clouds and rain, nothing of the sun or even a strong wind to carry it past. Paden's lips twitched, tickled with a knowing smile.

"Riding on then, tomorrow or abouts?" He shifted back in his chair, hands neatly folded on the table.

Emmett's eyes glowed. "Thereabouts," he answered simply.

Paden nodded. He didn't need to be told of expectations or promises of what they'd be doing until then - the crystal blue eyes said enough. Good friends didn't always need such assurances; he and Emmett were well past even that.

Stella passed close, her delicate hands lifting in the air as she smiled down on the two friends sitting shoulder to shoulder on the far round of the table. She swept in, filling their shots with another healthy dose of the good stuff from the bottle that sat at Paden's elbow, leaving them again in their companionable silence with a wink and a nod.

~~~*~~~

Stella looked up when one of the batwing doors swung into the barroom. It was a customary practice - she liked to know who came into and out of her establishment. A young man entered, looking over his shoulder, smiling at his companion holding the door for him. He took but one step inside then paused, waiting until the other stood with him.

The two surveyed the Midnight Star, each taking a side in quick but thorough study. After a minute they started forward, almost as one, done with the business of deciding they'd live through walking to the bar - or knowing they'd best anyone who dared try and stop them.

Stella rose from her chair. It was comfortable, high-backed and simple, resting on a platform that allowed her to see the whole saloon from her vantage point behind the bar. The years showed themselves in her small frame; she really was too old to do this work anymore. But it's where she was happiest so it's where she stayed. The chair - and keeping mostly to it during the long hours - helped her maintain her chosen calling.

"I'll take these two," she barked efficiently, waving Emmy back. Stella walked with haste and care, stepping onto the narrow ramp that ran along the base of the bar, fingers extended to feel along the cool wooden top.

Emmy nodded with a smile and stepped away, grabbing up a handful of foaming mugs instead, laughing with easy merriment as she spilled dollops of beer on her way to the tables. The men who inhabited this place cheered her appearance, each table vying for her to approach and refresh them first, all feeling more of her as they should as she floated past. Emmy just shook her head and kept laughing, thumping a beer here and there without direction, keeping them all on their toes.

Stella watched a moment then refocused her attentions. Emmy could handle herself. She had something else that required her specialties.

Life had afforded her the ability to make a true study of the human animal; Stella considered herself something of an expert in them, the wisdom of age making up for whatever experience she might still be lacking.

One of the men was a dandy - bright red coat, white froth of lace at his wrists and neck, dapper brocade vest fitted with a pocket watch and intricate fob chain. Stella narrowed her gaze, watching him glide through the room, his clever green eyes and the competent tension that held his muscles readied. She smiled to herself. He was certainly a dandy. He was also no fool.

His friend was deceptively casual, looking like he'd be more comfortable waiting in the barn that kept the horses of Midnight Star's guests in fine stead. His blue eyes roved with the same vigilant perceptiveness she saw in the dandy.

Though they looked to have no commonalities Stella knew they held one another in the rare regard as trusted friends. Beyond the two having entered together - and staying shoulder to shoulder as they weaved through the bustling saloon - there was just something to their mien that told her it was so.

Stella shook her head.

It was damn uncanny.

She smiled when they approached, leaning on the bar with hands outstretched to either side. "Gentleman," she cooed. "Welcome to the Midnight Star. What can I get for you this evening?"

The dapper one immediately met her eye and held, his greens dancing. Her smile deepened - here was another true aficionado who would well recognize all that she'd made this place to be.

He nodded his head, briefly doffing his hat in a gallant motion before replacing it against his neat chestnut curls. "The Midnight Star," he drawled, "and you her crowning jewel."

She blushed, an experience that usually lived as being long ago in her memory.

"A room for the night, if you please," he continued, then took in a deep, appreciative breath. "Then a drink and perhaps," his smile turned devilish, "your recommendation to what table would host a spirited game of chance."

Stella looked between them, taking them in. The dandy's eyes had never left hers, the green gaze taking wonderful care of her during the exchange. The scruffy one leaned with an elbow against the bar, easy pose not fooling her at all as he scanned the barroom.

"Wonderful," she answered with a smile. "All things I will certainly see is made put to your disposal for this evening, Mr..." She trailed off, allowing the silence to seek her answer.

"Standish, my good lady, Mr Ezra Standish."

The dandy grasped her hand and lifted it, depositing a light kiss against her knuckles. His brows inched upwards, tips of his lips tickled with a charming smile. Stella inclined her head and nodded back, not for a moment trying to gain possession of her hand once again. She hadn't felt this flattered or made this youthful by a man in years.

She glanced over their raised hands at the scruffy one. Mr Standish's eyes cooled a fraction - Stella let it go. She had no need to press against the man's worry.

"Your acquaintance is pleasure enough, Mr Standish," she amended expansively. She shook their hands then let hers slip away, returning it to rest on the bar.

The scruffy one glanced over his shoulder at her, bright blue eyes landing first on Mr Standish to soften the barest fraction, then they were meeting her waiting gaze.

He tipped his hat. "Ma'am." Another glance at his friend then he fingered his brim once more. "Tanner, ma'am. Vin Tanner."

His drawl marked him as being as southern as his friend, but the flat quality was pure Texas, whereas Mr Standish was likely a true son of the antebellum.

Stella nodded. "Well, double my pleasure then." She grinned. "Now, for that drink." The change in subject was easily felt - Mr Tanner's attention went back to watching the saloon and Mr Standish returned to keeping hers. She spread her hands wide. "What'll it be?"

"Something to make up for two days worth of dust and hardtack."

The dandy was once again smoothed, his green eyes calmed after the shadowed burst of warning Stella had only just glimpsed when Mr Tanner had announced himself.

Stella nodded. "I might have what you're looking for," she chirped, feeling beneath the bar for a set of shots.

When she looked back up those dazzling greens were waiting for her.

"I speak not of watered down rotgut or the churlish manner of long-neglected scotch." The dandy winked. "It is my happy supposition that a place such a this - run by a woman such as yourself - would wwell know the bliss of the good stuff."

"And know the worthy recipients when she sees them," Stella finished, unable to prevent her wide smile.

Gold flashed within the man's answering grin. "Ah indeed, my fair," he murmured.

Stella held up a single finger. "I won't be a moment," she mock-whispered in reply.

She charged along her small runway, quick feet taking her to the storeroom and the few bottles she had left of the Midnight Star's finest; a finest she hadn't tasted since the man who last appreciated it so well had passed on. She was looking forward to sharing some now, particularly with what she felt she was onto.

As she puttered about she nodded at her own thoughts, clues of this and that coming together to help her decide. She smiled absently, noting that Mr Tanner wasn't nearly as savvy as his friend; a wanted man should never give his name so easily to an unknown quantity.

When Stella returned both men were still waiting for her, standing just as she'd left them. She held the bottle out, wiping away the dust so the dark, dark green of the glass could shine under the molten light of the oil lamps. Then she poured three shots worth, taking one for herself.

"To the good stuff," she toasted with a smile, holding her small glass aloft.

Her new friends met her glass with theirs. Each dropped the shot back and each grimaced in appreciation. The corner of Mr Tanner's lips pulled up and he nodded. He let the shot clunk back against the bar, then his gaze skimmed across Mr Standish before resuming watch.

Stella filled her glass and the dandy's. He bobbed his head. Both took their time with this drink, enjoying the rich depth of the aged brandy.

"Only one room for you then - or should I see about having two made ready?"

A single finger brushed the length of Mr Standish's sleeve. It was a gesture Stella recognized. It was meant for buying a moment's time. Soon enough he was smiling at her, the momentary hitch hidden away.

"We travel under the standard of our employer, my good woman," he answered smoothly. "One who is not," he leaned across the bar to whisper conspiratorially, "known for his generosity of purse." He straightened back up, hands moving automatically to right his scarlet jacket and cuffs. "Best make it just the one, thank you - an indulgence now makes for later regrets."

Mr Tanner's face pulled with a half-smile, blue eyes flicking to the dandy then back out again.

Stella nodded. "That I can do, Mr Standish - in fact, I have just the one for you, a spare room we hardly rent - but the furnishings are adequate and the space more than generous for two." She had an inkling she well knew better the reason for them wanting only a single room, but the blithe argument was sound. One she certainly wouldn't make question of.

Instead she lifted the bottle the moment his shot was again dry. "Stella," she supplied simply.

He winked and readily accepted it. His eyes closed briefly when he sipped the dark liquid. The small cut glass was placed back against the bar with care, still half full. He looked back up, green eyes genuine and alive.

"Stella, who could only increase this evening's enjoyment should you do me the honor of calling me Ezra." He winked.

She could hardly resist. Her ready smile told him so.

Ezra smiled back. He raised his shot and took the rest down. "You certainly do know the good stuff," he murmured. Then his brows waggled and he leaned close once more. "Now," he licked his lips, "be so kind as to ingratiate me to a table of worthy competitors - and worthy winnings - so that Mr Tanner and myself might get settled and allow me to return into your gracious fold."

~~~*~~~

Emmett brought his horse to a sharp stop and looked behind him.

He shouldn't have left her.

A deep sigh ran through him when he turned back around.

He missed Paden so damn much.

She'd told him to go. He'd come as he'd promised, helped her when she'd finally asked. Without thinking on it he'd come, done as she'd needed. When that was accomplished she'd smiled at him, blue eyes sad, resolute and knowing, and told him he was again free to go.

Emmett shook his head. She didn't make much sense. Although she never had - Jessamine always had been something of a lovely enigma for him.

They'd 'met' while he was serving out his time, sent on a brutal work detail. She'd been there with water and food and despite the dour looks from the guards she'd treated the inmates the same, serving them with matching brisk efficiency as she did everything else.

One day Emmett had managed to ask her why she did it.

"Poor," she'd shrugged. That was answer enough.

She'd been kind to him when nothing else was, when Jake was minding Kate and the family per his decision and direction, when he'd felt lost forever to Texas and an old grudge. When his time working the rock fields was done she'd still come, still brought him cornbread wrapped in cheesecloth, almost sweet as any confection to be had from the gleaming jars that brightened most mercantiles.

Jessamine always had enough for the guards, too, ensuring Emmett at least part of his share.

When he'd gotten out - before riding straight and true to find Jake and get on with his life - he'd made it a point to thank her. Thank her and ask her why.

Her eyes had cut right through him, the blues seeming to him all-knowing.

"You don't deserve to be here," she'd leveled, waiting for him to deny it or vehemently agree - either proving her wrong.

Emmett had the power to do neither.

Simple kindness wasn't anything Emmett ever took for granted. His Momma had made sure he was taught otherwise. So he promised her on that day, promised with his forthright, honest heart that if she ever needed anything and he was still alive to be found he'd do it.

He'd gotten her letter when he'd already decided to travel. Emmett felt a trip to Texas before telling Paden his mind for settling to Silverado for good was a delay he'd earned.

Emmett huffed and kneed his horse. He wouldn't be going back. Not unless she asked. He had the feeling she wouldn't.

The favor she'd needed rankled though it wasn't his place to argue her needs. She'd wanted protection for getting away from the jail and moving on to another town with a simpler job sewing for a clothier.

The favor only rankled because the jail all liked and respected Jessamine just fine, taking no latitude just because she was a woman. Any one of them would have helped her. But her letter had been insistent. She needed this return for her kindness and Emmett wasn't about to refuse.

Emmett closed his eyes as the trotted towards the far horizon, settled with his return to Silverado, looking forward to the reunion with the only person who'd ever held his heart. It felt good to be more than halfway there. He fingered the letter tucked into his pocket, thought on the words written there. He wished he'd sent it on ahead of him; he wished he were better at just saying these words to Paden instead of always writing them. Paden never complained. Emmett just wanted it so.

He snapped his breath. He shouldn't have bedded her. Not that he didn't want to in the moment, when her soft body had pressed to his, dark blue eyes full of understanding - understanding his lonesome from Paden, the long days riding to Texas without company, the old, quiet attraction they'd had to ignore that had simmered beneath them.

He didn't regret it, not really. Paden would understand. Emmett smiled suddenly - hell, the man had only months ago finally been distracted from the hopeless, near disinterested pursuit of Hannah, taken in by a flash of a blonde who had managed to swindle the famously sound gaming tables at the Midnight Star and Paden's sometimes too trusting heart, leaving the town's sheriff with another warm memory and an unapologetic smile.

Still, Emmett also knew he'd be leaving. Jessamine knew it too.

Despite it she'd drawn his hand to her breast, held it there while the sun set in a brilliance of magenta and purple, cresting her small window to change the colors inside her bare room.

He'd tripped against her easily, then, the two easing wants of the flesh and memories of harsher times made better, answering a loneliness that neither expected would be promised from one another.

The morning after she'd made him a breakfast of griddlecakes and eggs, hot coffee and fatty bacon. He'd eaten with his usual care and speed, packing in as much as she kept bringing. She'd watched the entire time, now and again touching her belly with absent care, blue eyes happier than Emmett had ever seen, a quality to them he couldn't place.

At his horse's side she'd pressed a cloth full of cornbread into his hands.

"Thank you," she'd smiled.

Emmett had given her a long, last look, for a moment uncertain. Her lips had curled in a further smile.

"You can go, Emmett. I have what I need. And what you need isn't here." She'd patted his arm, affection and trust passing between them. "I will write to you again if my needs change."

He'd considered staying, but his thoughts and longings led him to a faraway place, one that wouldn't be fair to abandon Jessamine to with him still standing right beside her. So with a last hug he'd mounted up and left.

When he'd looked over his shoulder to wave goodbye she was already gone.

~~~*~~~

Vin whistled through his teeth. "Damn," he muttered.

He moved a step inside, just enough for Ezra to be able to enter but no more; the door was hastily shut and locked behind them. Habit too ingrained and too reliable to give up.

Ezra turned in place, taking in the room, green eyes glowing with appreciation. He arched a brow. "Certainly not my expectations based on our fair hostesses' assessment."

Vin nodded as he moved around, eyes roving and taking in every detail as he stripped down for the night.

The furniture was expensive. He could tell because it was all solid and elegant, the understated designs standing on their own, no need to make up for cheapness with garish fabric or distracting spindles. The rest of the room followed a similar trend.

He quite liked it. Was certain Ezra did too.

"Would swear someone lived here, Ez, not just a room she keeps 'just in case.' " Vin shivered, overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of knowing. What was it Ezra called it?

He looked across the room at his lover. The handsome face was bent in study, fingers splayed over the wide desktop that had been placed against the foot of the expansive bed. Green eyes rose to meet his.

"Déjà vu," Ezra whispered, answering Vin's silent question.

"Yup," he breathed, bobbing his head. That was it.

He walked across the room to the dresser and paused over it, feeling like he was trespassing as he considered opening the top drawer to throw his stuff into for the night.

"Something wrong?"

Ezra spoke from directly behind him, soft, lightly concerned voice vibrating in his ear. Vin reached his hand back and snared a hip, encouraging Ezra close. Kisses pressed down his neck when he was enfolded in a loose hold, the two of them now looking down on the whorled pattern of gleaming wormwood.

"Nothing wrong..." Vin shook his head. "Just get the feeling like I'm gonna open the drawers and find 'em already full."

Ezra nodded against him.

"Yes, quite," the soft drawl murmured.

They stood staring a moment longer until finally Vin laughed.

"Only one way ta find out," he said smartly.

They both held their breath as he eased the drawer open; both let out long exhales when it revealed nothing but a hollow scrape and a shadowed, empty interior.

"Hell," Vin laughed, relief and nervousness bubbling up out of him. "We're just being foolish. There ain't nothing here."

Ezra kissed Vin's cheek then pulled away. "Perhaps nothing tangible, no..." He circled in place, jade eyes narrow with thoughtful scrutiny. "But there is most definitely something here."

The words - and the feeling of this town, this room - couldn't be denied. Instead Vin nodded and started tidying his things, taking one side of the dresser for himself, leaving the other for Ezra. It didn't take long; Vin was a light traveler.

He turned back into the room, head tilting as he considered it. "Not gonna complain, whatever's here or ain't." Vin shrugged easily. "Place feels more familiar than anything so can't exactly call it uncomfortable."

His expectation was to find this room still kitted out for whomever he felt certain had to have lived here, that the town beyond them held traces of something he should know about. The idea didn't disturb him more than it provided Vin with the feeling he was in a place he could relax - a quality not often achieved for him, not even in places he did know.

Vin waggled his brows, chin jerking towards the bed. "And that definitely don't look like anything less 'n comfortable." He grinned. "Pretty much just what ya ordered, hmm?"

Ezra was down to just his shirt and pants, suspenders hanging at his sides, weaponry resting on the desktop. Vin had figured his lover would clean up and change before heading back down to the saloon; there was been plenty of draw in returning. Ezra was already looking to make good on three invitations to a game.

Green eyes flashed. "Most comfortable," he drawled roughly. The handsome face danced with a tempered smile. "You should be well contented until my return."

Vin narrowed his blues. "Just so ya don't leave without saying 'nite and tucking me in, Ez," Vin commanded huskily. "Ya know I hate being left on edge."

Ezra's head tipped back as he laughed. "How I would delight in enduring your version of 'on edge,' Vin," he grumbled affectionately, green eyes now smoky. "Cocooned within a lion's share of the blankets and snoring softly, obviously inconsolably distraught until the moment of my return."

Vin licked his lips, tongue tracing the curve of his seductive smile. He sped to close the rest of the distance between them, the two meeting in the middle. He slid his hands around Ezra's waist, stroking up and down, feeling every muscle and curve. Vin pressed his groin into Ezra's and began rolling his hips from side to side, looking up from under his lashes with devilish intent.

"Ain't the kinda edge I'm meaning," he growled.

Suddenly he was being propelled to the bed. Vin went without hesitance or fight. Ezra was everywhere; hands, teeth and tongue worked over him, insistent and sure. Soon enough the remainder of Vin's clothing was gone, leaving his heated skin to rasp against the cool of the bedspread and under Ezra's knowing hands.

He lifted his head to watch as his cock was sucked into Ezra's mouth. The instant that wet heat surrounded him he lost all power, his head falling back against the mattress once more.

Vin bucked into the willing embrace of Ezra's lips, ragged moan leaving him when a powerful arm braced around his hips, raising him from the bed. A rough tongue and the hint of teeth played over him then moved away, leaving him gasping and wanting.

Urgent need was replaced with blinding pleasure when his tight, secret opening became the beneficiary of those talented lips and delving, devastating tongue. Vin tried to keep his fingers tangled in Ezra's hair but lost the fight in less than a moment; he laid on the bed, boneless and completely at his lover's mercy.

His reaction to being expertly penetrated with a single thrust was to laze his hips in full undulations, long smile pulling his face, wrinkling his closed eyes.

Their pace started out fast and just got faster. Ezra pumped into him again and again, their dual breaths short and choppy, the bed hammering with a muted thowck against the wall.

Vin rolled his head and pried an eye open. Ezra was standing still clothed, white shirt rumpled, dark pants split haphazardly open at the fly. The green eyes were tightly clenched, head thrown back, the whole of the man lost in the consuming force of ecstatic concentration - and the deep hold of his lover.

Ezra leaned closer when Vin clenched the muscles inside his body. He loved the grunt that came with his action, loved the twitches that passed over Ezra's face. The hand that had teased up his chest sped down his sweaty flank, coiling around his erection in a knowing, exquisite hold, taunting him to dance between drawing this pleasure further and the abandon of completion.

They rode on, pace intense and swift, Vin's heels caught around Ezra's straining thighs, his arms raised to clutch into the tangled bedding. Ezra's forehead curled onto his chest.

"Now, Vin," poured over him, heated and raw.

The hand around his cock squeezed with a final insistence and Vin came. He twisted his head and bit into the flesh of his arm, muffling the animalistic roar he'd have preferred to echo through the saloon, telling all this was his and his right.

They breathed together, tangled and dizzy, slow to come down from the shared high. Vin found his hands moving without thought, loosened from their death grip in the blanket to comb through sodden hair and smooth across Ezra's skin. He grumbled low in his chest when his fingers ran over silk of a dress shirt instead of the silky skin he so adored.

Ezra laughed, husky and warm, then Vin's pique was soothed with a long, lazy kiss.

"Later," Ezra promised between kisses. "Much more..."

They kissed again until Ezra managed to move a breath away.

"Later," he repeated, green eyes slanting with warning.

Vin laughed. He knew better. Ezra really did want to enjoy the tables and Vin was happy to let him, but the warning was a stern reminder to his own body to get out of this bed and go do it. Vin relished that power. It was a sway few held over this man.

He ran his fingers down Ezra's face, weaving back and forth across the cooling expanse he held so dear. "Win enough ta buy me something real pretty, Ez," Vin whispered, his drawl uneven and thick.

Ezra laughed. The sound rippled through Vin, warm breath tickling his ear.

"Of course," came the simple reply, filled with the certainty that was Ezra.

They kissed a last time then Ezra lifted away. Vin curled onto his side, watching from sleepy eyes as his lover moved about with efficient grace, washing up then straightening his hair and face. A new set of clothes then the outer layers were once again added; derringer rig, gold-charged vest, red coat and finally the black hat. Ezra swept up their room key with his right hand, tossing it to land in his left palm. He tucked it into a secret pocket - one of many - sewn within his finery.

Green eyes sparkled across the room. "Goodnight then, Vin." Ezra whispered, then with a wink was gone, the closing door wafting the man's scent, mixed with soap and cologne, back into the room.

Vin breathed deeply of it, his eyes fully closing, smile never leaving his face. He fell asleep to the sound of the lock clicking firmly into place.

~~~*~~~

Paden watched the buckboard arrive. It pulled up slow, easing its way next to the undertaker's, rumbling quietly down the rutted, packed earth of the street. He stood away from the post he'd been leaning on and bowed his head, making his way over. It was his job as sheriff to do such.

It was his honor and duty as a friend.

He took his time, dark eyes watching the expanse of the quiet road, empty and drab in this cold predawn. The white church that capped the main thoroughfare stood silent witness, mocking and offering strange comfort, a harsh contradiction.

The driver tipped his cap then left without a word when Paden came close. That he'd want to see to this himself wasn't in question. That he'd want to be left the hell alone to do it was a consideration well appreciated.

Paden took an easy step onto the boardwalk and stared down into the buckboard, stared at the still form covered in simple duck. He shook his head, eyes clouded, heart heavy.

He should have insisted. He should have gone too.

Probably would have died right alongside Emmett, but at least he'd have been there.

"Bad luck," he muttered dryly.

Paden shook his head and stretched his leg to perch a foot on a wheel, hands pulling him up onto the bench. He took the reins and gave a gentle slap. The mule team was agreeably bored, lurching into motion before he'd even given the command. They turned and made the slow, short trip down the alley, between the sheltering shadow of buildings and the private stillness behind.

They rounded the last corner and he pulled up on the reins. Paden sat for a long time, lost in quiet contemplation, lost in the uneasy ache of irretrievable loss. One of the mules stamped and he laughed, short, bitter and low. They were right - time to get on with this.

He twisted around in the seat and backed the buckboard until it stood just touching the appropriately somber gray-shingled wall, then brought the team to a smooth stop. A hole was cut into the building, covered with an arched door of sturdy planks to keep the elements out; cut to allow the necessary business of this place in. The animals flicked tails and ears, glancing around before nodding absently, heads lowering to forage for anything remotely green and chewable.

Paden jumped down and walked determinedly past the rig, not faltering as he pushed into the hushed dim of the undertaker's deserted keep. He continued on with efficient crispness, turning smartly to push the small arched door open, revealing the newly rising sun and the shrouded form of his lover, come back to him now well and truly for good.

He swallowed then pushed it all down, taking refuge in his resolve and purpose of motion. He reached out into the morning's cold and grabbed at the ankles to pull Emmett inside. The starchy fabric whispered scratches as it passed from the plank to the undertaker's slab, catching stray splinters before coming to rest on the cool smoothness.

Paden's hand skimmed just above the canvas. He rested his palm on Emmett's quiet heart, his other hand lifting to slowly remove his hat. It fell from his nerveless fingers to knock against the floor, forgotten.

After a moment's consideration he searched for the corner and tugged gently. His winced at the sight, sharp burst of pain lancing through him. It was his Emmett all right, though even tender familiarity couldn't forgive the strangeness of the flesh after enduring one too many days riding under the sun. Paden shut his eyes and let the cloth flop back down. The picture of Emmett he saw there was all he'd need to remember from here out, all he'd want to remember.

He went back to standing, one hand hanging limp at his side, the other pressed lightly to Emmett's chest.

After a long while - never enough time for a goodbye - Paden opened his eyes and nodded then took a step away.

He wasn't looking forward to wiring Jake. It'd be the first thing he did after leaving here. If the family decided they wanted Emmett with them he'd pay for the ice, wait Jake out then take the long walk back to California to see it done. If not he'd dig the damn hole himself.

Paden kicked his hat up into his hand, catching it with a practiced ease after it'd twirled through the air then his fingers for several spins. His lips pulled, a hint of a smile.

"Show off," he heard, Emmett's amused voice whispering inside.

He fingered the brim of his hat at the silent form, the deeply abiding affection he felt for this gone man rising to the fore, a companion he knew he'd never be without. A moment more, then the smile faded; Paden strode out the front door and to the day's grim business.

~~~*~~~

Ezra folded the letter with precise care. He let his hands rest atop it, sheltering the yellowed leaf.

"I am..." he began, then words left him, too many thoughts and emotions scattering his usually composed wits.

"Yeah," Vin echoed softly. "It's damn something, ain't it?"

Ezra looked up and smiled into the blue eyes waiting for him. He nodded. "Damn something indeed."

Serendipity had brought them here, whatever winds of providence ushering two bastards into the one place that held incredible answers for them both.

His fingers played over the letter, thumbing the soft edge. "Would you like," Ezra lifted the page, offering it to Vin, question finished with his gesture.

Vin shook his head. "Naw, you keep it. I'll know where to find it."

"Interesting, isn't it?" Ezra mused aloud, tucking the letter safely into his vestment pocket, warmed by Vin's simple trust and the closeness the allowance proved they shared.

"What's that?"

He smiled. "You and your father's profound thoughts both discovered liberating refuge in the written word."

Vin smiled, the deep, crooked line that only showed when he was truly pleased. He nodded. "Yeah. Just as interesting as you and your daddy both had a taste for finer things and a knack for gettin' em."

Ezra bobbed his head, hand slipping under the table to find Vin's, discovering it had been halfway in reach to capture his. They subsided to easy silence, feeling no need to fill it with anything other than their plenary company.

Lost in thought Stella found them, pot of coffee in hand. She set it down after refilling their cups. "Anything else for now?"

"Thank you, Stella, no," Ezra crooned. He knew there'd be no repaying this woman her gift, though she seemed intent on continuing to dote upon them instead of accepting her due.

She nodded and swept up her skirts then retreated, leaving them to their privacy and revelations once more, talk of pie and fresh cream swirling after her as she muttered her way to the kitchen.

"Think Chris'll mind we're staying on another few days?" Blue eyes twinkled.

Vin's hand tightened, a teasing squeeze, thumb scratching against Ezra's palm. It was a surprisingly erotic sensation.

Ezra squeezed back. "I should think not; matters are slow at present back home, Stella has generously put us to board for as long as we like, and he did say no hurry."

Vin grinned. "That he did. Ain't like he isn't always telling us we should do a better job of listening to him."

The two snickered, enjoying the imagined picture of Chris at his most unimpressed.

Ezra took up his delicate china cup and savored the rich aroma of the coffee before filling his mouth with the dark brew. Stella did kept a damn fine establishment.

"Ya think Paden knew?"

He set the cup back down with care, wanting his full attention to be for Vin. "Knew what," he asked, looking up after the fragile cup was safe on its eggshell-thin saucer.

"All the things in the last letter." Vin stopped there, not quite comfortable with adding on who wrote it and who that man was to him.

Ezra nodded slowly. "Stella assured us that... Father... was given Emmett's possessions when he took custody of the body. That the letter was among what was left after he too passed on." He bit his lip. "I can only assume - I can only hope - he knew very well what your father intended and how he felt for mine."

"Yeah," Vin rasped. "That's what I figure too."

Their entwined fingers rippled against one another. Both men smiled.

That morning Stella had invited herself to share their breakfast, interrupting the early meal and their intended departure with a kind smile and a small leather box. From that she produced a bundle of letters and a scant bit of odds and ends. The letters had been from one to the other over the years, explaining far better, she'd murmured, than she ever could what they'd come to mean to one another. Even more amazing was the story she had to share, spoken in her even, understanding tone. A story about two men very much like Ezra and Vin, in ways both obvious and hidden.

The ruby ring Ezra wore - it'd been Paden's. Maude had won it from him during the few long weeks they'd enjoyed one another's company as she charged through on her way to San Francisco. 'From your father's heart,' Stella had chided gently, 'not over a game.'

Vin's Winchester had been left behind to protect Jessamine, Emmett's faint initials still visible in the handle just above the barrel.

The rest of Stella's conclusion had come from Ezra and Vin alone, their manner and way together too like welcome ghosts from her past to be ignored. Before getting up and seeing to the business of the day she'd patted the leather box. These other bits, she'd said curtly, could be admired later in their room - Paden's room.

That they were staying in the room Paden had once called home - had intended always to share with Emmett should Emmett ever give in and decide - somehow explained the warm familiarity and the unfinished air of emptiness.

Emmett had never made it back to Silverado. Cut down in a firefight's unforgiving crossfire as he'd stopped over for supplies, only a day left to travel before returning to Paden's side. There'd been no better reason for his death, no great struggle or story to find bare comfort in, just the hollow, bitter end that confronts every man.

Paden, Stella had explained, had lived a quiet five years after. He hadn't been the same after Emmett's passing, but nor had he given up on life. Just taken it in his pragmatic way, expecting this was just as it was supposed to be. When he'd died during his duty as sheriff, Jake - Vin's uncle - had ridden to town and taken him away, taken him to rest with Emmett at the family's homestead in California.

A place, Vin was thunderstruck to find, that still existed, vibrant with the life of more than one generation of his actual kin. He'd confided to Ezra he wasn't sure about going, wasn't sure that his ma's one night favor was sufficient cause for him to show up, but he also wasn't sure he needed to. Just knowing they were there was good enough for him.

Ezra, far as Stella knew, had no one but Maude. He smiled. Hardly surprising.

"You taking the desk then?"

He smiled, looking askance at his companion. Stella had offered him whatever caught his fancy from Paden's old room. He'd immediately thought of the desk, beautifully carved from black walnut stained so deep it look like ebony. He hadn't answered, merely told Stella thank you and that he would consider it. He also hadn't told Vin he wanted the desk.

That his lover knew didn't faze him in the least.

Ezra grinned. "I do believe I will." He nodded, satisfied with his decision.

"Good," Vin grinned back. "Figure Paden would want ya to have it. Can't see why not."

Ezra knew he could ask for more. The Midnight Star herself was among that offered. Stella hadn't said anything outright but Ezra knew she'd grant him it with pleasured ease if only he ask. He also understood she knew he never would. Home for him was somewhere else, despite Stella's warm friendship and the treasure of her saloon.

Stella returned, in hand two plates burdened with half a pie each. She laid the plates in front of them then turned away, coming quickly back with a dainty silver pitcher filled with thick cream. She winked.

"You boys enjoy then go about other things. I'll look for you to share lunch with me."

Both grinned and answered quick with an alert, "Yes ma'am." She nodded and went on her way, stopping at other tables, enquiring after her guests, their comfort and needs.

"Ez?"

He looked up, knowing it had to be important if Vin was putting off pie to discuss it. He nodded.

"Mighty glad you were hankering for a night in a real bed." Vin's eyes sparkled, full of love and wonder, still a bit dazed from events but steady, meant for him alone.

"Mighty glad you 'n me did a faster job of figuring it out than our... Pa's."

He held the steady gaze, green eyes shimmering, just as slightly dazed and every bit as in love.

"Lucky," he quipped, gold tooth flashing. Ezra laughed softly, tightening his hold on Vin's hand before letting go - he'd need both hands to wrangle the plate and its generous contents.

Vin's easy chuckle tickled over him, hastening his attentions to the cinnamony, peach delight. He poured a measure of the thick cream then held the pitcher out, shiver of heat tremoring through him when Vin's strong fingers closed around his own. The time Stella had told them to take for themselves was beckoning, loudly.

He was looking forward to investigating the box she'd left with them - naked and exhausted, Vin his ready cushion tucked behind as he revealed whatever was to be found.

End