Work Text:
K, So?
by Susan
A certain Magnificent Seven slash author sat down in her comfy cushioned chair and splayed her fingers over her keyboard. She hummed zum, dum, de duh dum, oh, tee zee tee tuh tee as she glanced at her detailed notes.
The woman exhaled loudly and readjusted her untidy pony tail as she frowned at the scratchy drawled lines, all jumbled around in half sentences.
Scrubbing her dry cheeks with lemon dishwater detergent-perfumed fingertips, she groaned at the near illegible phrases. Do the words "chicken scratch" mean anything to you, honey?
"That will teach me to try to write in the dark. And replace the frizzled lighbulb. Alex always keeps a voice-activated tape recorder by her bed when she gets a story idea or a dream in the middle of the night."
She fiercely scowled once again, and cursed. "What the hell was that stupid ATF AU idea about Chris and Ezra that I had... I hope to God if I post this, all the feedback letters (if I'm blessed to receive any) won't say, "Hey, I just read this plot two weeks ago on A Gambler's Lust... maybe you should read Lumina or MAC, JoAnn, or Wynde, yes, all of VampyrAlex's stuff, definitely Kay's, before you post this Out of Character drivel. Can't you dream up anything new?"
The poor author finished off the last sips of her Diet Coke, delicately burped, and tapped out the basic scene for her story, mumbling dire imprecations and jabs at her pitiful story-teller's skills between paragraphs, what she could remember from the strange dream.
~~~~~7~~~~
Chris walked into the office. (Yeah, how else is he gonna get there, stupid? Fly?)
Ezra was talking on the phone. (Well, hope to heaven he ain't singin' on the phone.) "No. I can't take any chances. Our activities should not become known to..."
Chris sidled closer, eavesdropping shamelessly. (Always knew Chris had no shame. Bad Boy.)
"Too wide a margin for error," Ezra continued speaking. "I'll send someone for my..."
Damn. Buck and JD came from the elevator laughing, arguing, outside the double doors. Buck was taking the position that when a brake pedal felt spongy it meant air in the brake lines, and JD disagreed that something must be wrong with the master cylinder. (Macho men talk about their toys).
Those idiots were going to interfere with... he couldn't hear what Ez...
What the fuckin' hell had Ezra just said!!!???
"You mean when he gets tired of your ass, you want to come on home back to ME? Do you love to hurt me... 's that how you get your kicks?"
Chris frowned, ready to pounce on the telephone, to rip it from Ezra's hand as he heard, "I satisfy him, goddamn it, I love Chris, but that has nothing to do with US."
Buck and JD came in noisily, jawing about balljoints and cylinder heads, oil pumps and crankshafts. Ezra swifly turned in their direction. When he spied Chris standing there, giving him the Larabee Look, he immediately signed off, "Later," and let the phone drop on top of his (his what? what would he have on his desktop, anyway?)
He grinned, flashing white picket fence teeth, and (I can't remember what it was that Ez did then at the desk. Oh why didn't I wake up sooner? So I could remember?) "That your informant?"
Ez visibly paled (heck, how else can he pale, if he invisibly paled, he wouldn't pale, would he?). "Um... no." (Does Ezra ever hesitate in with an um...uh.. or an er... ever in the eppies? Shit.)
"No. Personal."
Chris' eyes narrowed. What are you up to, darlin'?
(Chris isn't going to fly off the handle, not yet, at least. Just wait awhile. Can't make him.. explode too soon... isn't it just fanon that Chris has an untamed temper?)
~~~~7~~~~
The writer turned her spiral notebook upside down. On the edge was the url to the Slash Sex Writers' site... also known as "Ten Easy Lessons on Getting Your Previously Straight Guys in Bed Together for the First Time, What They Do There, How They Do It, and Who's on Top."
The poor writer yawned, as she outlined the .html with her number two pencil. (Back to my outline. Well, obviously the Southern Charmer was up to something. Ez's always up.. to some. thing. Need an explanation so different it'll blow Chris' mind. And the poor readers.)
Be ready to humbly apologize. And never post again!
~~~~7~~~~
"Chris, let me be completely honest." Ezra stood, moving into his lover's personal space. He clutched Chris' wrist, fingernails biting into the tender padding of his palm. "Mother always said, 'Tell the truth and shame the devil.'"
(Oh now... That was Shameful, you idiot hack-writer).
"Maude wouldn't know the truth if it bit her on her lily white ass, Ez."
~~~~~7~~~~~
The writer's shoulders slumped. She clasped her fingers tightly in her lap, and pondered if she should just erase this trite crap, read her groups mail, and go fix some lunch.
What the hell came next? Is Ezra
A. Planning a surprise for Chris' birthday and the caterer is an old bf or gf or... That was number 14 in Every Plot That Has Ever Been Used in Fanfiction.
B. He's having an affair. (Naw, would sweet, wonderful Ez be the unfaithful type? (Oh, the female writer groaned, he's a Man. 'Nuff said).
Is Vin Tanner involved? Strange...
B1. To whom was Ezra speaking? Grammatically correct, there! Ray Kowalski? Maybe that phone call was long distance to Chicago? A cross-over, yeah, that's it. Mag7/Due South. You Fool.
Benton Fraser and Ezra both talk the hind laigs off'n a blue-tick hound dawg. Maybe he and Ray... before the Mountie came to Chicago on the trail of his father's killer... But Ezra's allergic to Yankees, isn't he? Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray?
B2. Oh God, the Sentinel... yikes, Jim Ellison would *not* be amused... (or poor Blair, naturally) to find he and Ezra Standish were involved... at least their Pre-Sandburg-lives-here home interior decorating ideas match... Jim and Ezra each have a place for everything, everything in its place kink.
Where would they have met? In the Cascade Mall, at Stark Walls 'R Us Home Decorating Depot?
B3. Alex Krycek. No. No. No. Ezra will not be tortured by a One-Armed Killer. But Mulder would find Ezra fascinating.
B4. Spike. Ezra and a bloodsucker. No, not Spike. Ezra's into continental cuisine, not fish 'n chips.
B5. Methos. Oh, the Old Man. Ez of course, is Immortal. How else can he get shot, stabbed, drugged, beaten to smithereens in all those stories, and come out sneering, all better? And Methos was his Teacher, of course. Methos knew Butch Cassidy, so he was in the timeline of the Old West... yeesh, the two found each other again in the Standish Tavern...
Ezra only pretended not to know how to fence (and let Nathan get the kudos), so as not to arouse any attention in case of Kronos... oh what the peachfuzz name was he using back then...Melvin?
Where does that dour (but hot) Scot, MacLeod (no hoot mon's here) come into the picture? Can't have Methos without Duncan? Hell.
B6. Daniel Jackson. Have a feeling Chris and Jack are acquainted. Navy and AirForce. But, there's the Fish gotta swim, Birds gotta fly, Don't Ask, Do Tell whole mess. And Daniel could've been in Atlanta 'bout the time Ez was being scorned and harassed by his fellow Feebs. 'Course that was before Chris took poor Ez away from All That.
C. The poor baby's being blackmailed. Or he's the victim of sexual harassment.
~~~~~7~~~~~
The author left the room for the kitchen, snooped into her messy refrigerator for mayonaise, grape jelly, and dill pickles. She collapsed into a chair after making a turkey and jelly sandwich, picked up her new Sentinel zine she'd only thumbed through last night, and began to read at the point she'd stopped.
"... Blair wanted to confess all the lies he'd told Jim. All these years. He prayed Jim would forgive him, and take him into his arms. But what if Jim couldn't forgive him, and sent him away? Could he go on living, knowing that..."
She turned the page.
...
"Jim, I love you but I can't go on any longer."
The author couldn't either.
Susan =/\=
E-mail address for feedback: susgreer@webtv.net.