Title: What We Don't Say

Author: E.L.

Fandom: Mag Seven, ATF AU universe

Pairing: Gilligan/The Skipper, er, I mean Ezra/Vin

Disclaimer: If they were mine, the squirrels would bother other people. As it is . . . my life is lived in a constant state of fear and harassment. Plot Squirrels; never turn your back on them. Never.

Rating: Oh, PG. For now. Aren't y'all proud of me? <g>

Author's Note: So Daylight Savings is giving me insomnia and this is what happened. RL is now my hated foe and I've decided to scoff in the face of my deadlines and schedules. Homework? What's that? Also, my writing teacher completely panned my work and it set me off into a steam of "I'm gonna write anyway." Which also translates to "I'm gonna write what I want to write, so there." Whew. Sorry, little bitter. That's unprofessional. I apologize.

** Denotes Thought

Vin woke up. It wasn't an unusual occurrence, he tended to wake up everyday, but it had been awhile since he's woken up in a bed that wasn't his own. It had also been awhile sincehe'd gotten drunk enough to let a lawn sprout in his mouth. He rubbed his tongue across his teeth and grimaced. *Yep, I must've really tied one on last night.* Vin sat up slowly, mindful not to disturb the brass band practicing the techno version of "We Will Rock You" in his head. He squinted and looked around the room. 

The bedroom was understated and elegant. A cherry wood dresser and a half-open closet stood on the far wall. The closet held more suits than Vin had seen outside of J.C. Penny's menswear department and two bottles of expensive hair gel lay on top of the dresser. *How did I get to Ezra's place?* He shook his head and winced. Moving was not a good thing.

Still . . . he remembered . . . *Ducks. Why am I seeing ducks? And where the hell's Ezra?* He looked around. The damnable fella wasn't there. Vin checked under the comforter that covered his lower body. Boxers. At least Ezra had made him comfortable before running out on him. Vin grimaced and slowly got off the bed, pausing to get his bearings, and using the bed's endboard to steady himself before walking out the door.

The main room was just like Vin remembered, elegant and muted and so cold frostbite formed on the walls. Everything was designed to impress an image of understated wealth, understated 
sophistication; understated everything. Nothing said Ezra like a blank slate and Vin knew that more than most. If he hadn't had sex with the man he wouldn't have known he could talk like a normal person. That was one of the reason's Vin liked fucking Ez; besides the fact he was a damn good lay, it made things a little more equal. Vin could actually understand more than every other word that came out of his mouth.

He hadn't been in Ezra's apartment much. It always reminded him of the foster homes he'd sometimes get placed in. The oddest people got it into their heads to take orphans in. As a child Vin had lived in trailers and even a mansion, before his wild ways got him sent back time and again. Most folk who took in kids didn't seem to know much about them, in Vin's experience.

He scratched behind his left ear and paused, pulling a small sticker carefully out of his long hair. *Made in Taiwan. How in hell'd that get there?* Vin shook his head bemusedly. Whatever had happened after he and Ezra had left work must have been some doings. Funny, he didn't remember much after he's taken that gunk Nathan'd forced on him. Nathan was like a brother to him, but Vin would be damned before he'd understand the man's notions about medicine.

A slight snore rose from the couch in front of Vin and, with a slight smile, he padded around the back of the sofa until he was faced with a seriously rumpled Ezra. The auburn-haired Southerner 
was stretched flat out on his back, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his shirt collar open at the neck revealing the tops of Ezra's collar bone. *Beautiful,* whispered a voice inside Vin's head. *Beautiful and yours.* But that wasn't true, wasn't true at all. 

Vin knelt down by the couch and watched Ezra sleep. The undercover agent's mouth hung slightly open, a hint of white teeth framed by pink lips that jutted out just enough to let Vin suck on 
them properly. He liked doing that. He liked doing other things to and Ezra usually let him. Vin never kidded himself about his own qualities. He wasn't that romantic and he wasn't that big on book learnin', but he was handsome. He'd been told he was by complete strangers since he was twelve. Handsome in a rough an' tumble way that made ya think of fucking and fighting and John Wayne but not hearts an' flowers.

Vin put the tip of his index finger on Ezra's chin and slid it around the bottom curve of lower lip. God, the man was sexy. He traced farther along Ezra's lips and stopped at the v-shaped 
indentation at the top. *I wonder what that's called,* he thought idly and allowed his finger to rest there for a moment.

Ezra shifted restlessly on the couch and his body burrowed down into the cushions before Vin could move his finger. Vin froze, staring down at his hand before dragging his eyes upward to meet the carefully blank gaze of his teammate. Ezra had woken up to Vin's finger stuck up his nose. This wasn't quite what Vin had planned.

"Good Morning, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said, a little nasally. 


Sorry I was so late with this. I'll try to send Part Two out soon. So . . . did y'all miss me? ;) And Hi to all the new people who joined!

E.L.