NOT QUITE MR. & MRS. SMITH
~San Francisco, CA
Current~For a therapist's office it was nice. The room itself not too big, not too small, décor comfortable and unassuming with two dark tan microfiber overstuffed loveseats next each other. An ergonomically correct rolling desk chair was placed in the middle of the room, two lamps perched on oak end tables with what had to be mood lifting pink bulbs, gave off just the right amount of light. Four lithograph prints from Monet graced the two brick outer walls directly above the couches, three unsigned watercolor paintings were hanging on the third regular old drywall wall and the floor to ceiling vertical blinds covered the fourth wall made of glass that faced out to the shared office space. A small oak computer desk filled the back corner. Among the small personal clutter adorning the desktop sat a brand new Dell computer flashing screensaver pictures of various National Parks every thirty seconds, and a bookcase filled with old and new psychological tomes, clearly marked the area as belonging to the resident therapist. Not a bad room by any means, but the two male clients sitting uneasy on opposite couches, each with a tense smile, wanted to be somewhere - hell, anywhere - else.
"Sorry for the delay, I had to handle an unfortunate office situation," Walter Bryce said as he stepped in his office. "You're Ezra Standish and Vin Tanner?" Each man nodded and shook Walter's hand as he said their names. "So what brings you both here today?" Silence and stares met his question and Walter let it stretch out.
"Let's be clear, we don't really need to be here," Ezra finally said with a sigh and a glare at Vin.
"It's a funny story," Vin added.
"We were attending a charity function, more precisely a barbeque charity auction-"
"For the kids." Vin broke in, earning another glare from Ezra.
"Yes, for the local foster care system. It's wholly inadequate, as I'm sure you agree," Ezra said. Thinking it was a rhetorical question, Walter waited for Ezra to continue talking. When nothing was forthcoming he looked closer and realized Ezra was waiting for a reply. "Uh, yes, I would agree."
Ezra gave a small nod. "Anyway, the auction started-"
"We were there with the Potter's, our friends." Vin interrupted Ezra again. "What?" he asked at Ezra's look. "It's part of the story."
"Of course. We were there with the Potter's. It was toward the end of the auction and the 'Mysterious Lot' had come up. I naturally bid on it, as did a few others in the audience."
"Ezra's a bit competitive." Vin said. "And he'd had more than normal to drink, so-"
"I wasn't driving, Vin." It was Ezra's turn to interrupt.
"Did I say you were?" Vin turned to the therapist. "I didn't, did I, Walter?"
"You were implying-" Ezra said instead.
"What?"
"Something," Ezra retorted.
"Ez, its part of the story is all I'm saying." Vin smiled and raised an eyebrow at Ezra. Ezra just glared at him harder.
"The rest of the story, gentlemen," Walter said trying to bring the conversation back to the topic and fidgeted a bit when twin glares aimed his way.
"Anyway," Ezra said starting the story again, "like Vin said, I can be a bit competitive and when I've had a few more than normal, I can get carried away, which is what happened-"
"The upshot is he dropped a cool three grand on the 'Mysterious Lot', which ended up being four sessions with one Walter Bryce and here we are." Vin didn't even bother to look in Ezra's direction as he ended the story abruptly, sat back and crossed his arms on his chest.
Walter waited for Ezra to react and was mildly surprised when all Ezra did was snort and copy Vin's stance. "Indeed and here we are."
"You didn't have to come," Walter said.
"Right." Ezra laughed, seemingly uneasy again. "Here's the theory-"
"We have a theory?" Vin looked confused and sat forward again.
"The engine check?"
"Ah, sorry, right, the engine check."
"We've been together three and three-quarter-"
"Four."
"Fine, four years, and this is like a tune-up for us-"
"Yeah, pop the hood, nose around, change the oil-"
"Make sure the engine is running smooth."
"I see," said Walter not really sure that he did. "So you'd like this to be a couples check up? And you're a couple?"
"Yes," both Ezra and Vin said at the same time.
"Okay," said Walter said. "I didn't realize."
"You have a problem with us being a couple?" Vin asked,but it came out more like a growl and he moved further toward the end of the seat. Walter had the feeling that if Tanner didn't like his answer he get pounced on.
"Vin," Ezra spoke quietly and put a hand on Vin's knee. "Give the man a chance to answer."
"Not at all," Walter replied flipping nervously through the file he held. "It's just that none of your paperwork mentions a domestic partner, significant other, or-"
"Spouse," Ezra and Vin said together.
"We don't like paperwork," Vin filled in further.
"Umm, yes, well, okay, a married couple. Where did you marry?" Walter asked.
"Aruba," Ezra answered.
"Okay, fine. Let's start with a few questions then," Walter said and almost sighed out loud in relief when he saw Vin relax back against the couch cushions again. "On a scale of one to ten how happy are you as a couple?"
"Eight," Vin said immediately.
"Like ten being perfectly happy and one being totally miserable?" Ezra asked.
"Just respond instinctively. There are no wrong answers," Walter explained.
"Instinctively, I see," Ezra said.
"Shall we try again?" Walter asked.
Both men nodded.
"Happy as a couple?" Walter asked again.
"Eight," Ezra and Vin both said.
"On a scale of one to ten how happy would you say your partner is?"
"Eight," Ezra answered.
"Wait," Vin said. "Can we use fractions?"
"It's instinctive," Ezra said.
"Right."
"Ready?" asked Ezra.
Vin nodded. "One, two, three..."
"Eight," both men said at the same time and smiled at Walter.
"Okay." Walter wrote the number in his notebook and went on to the next question. "How often do you have sex?"
"I don't understand the question," Ezra said and flicked his hand over his tie, wiping away imaginary dust.
"Hold up, I'm lost," Vin said. "Is this a one to ten thing?"
"Exactly my thought Vin, if it is, does one equal not much, or does one equal never? Because strictly speaking zero would actually be the right numeral to use for none. If we don't know what one is, how could we know what ten would be?"
"Right. Is ten, you know..."
"...constant, unrelenting..."
"...twenty four seven, without a break for anything, not even food..."
"...like Sting..."
"Yeah, Sting."
"Exactly. Look at Sting's day job. Who else has sixty hours a week to put aside strictly for sex?" Ezra asked. Walter wasn't sure if he was supposed to say anything or not, but he guessed not when Vin spoke.
"Can't be true if ya ask me."
"I agree. Sixty hours does seem to be a bit-"
"This is not a one to ten scenario." Walter interrupted them, trying to get a hold of the conversation, neck sore from his head bobbing back and forth following the continuous flow of conversation between the two men. "It's a straight question. How often do you have sex?" Silence filled the room. Ezra and Vin looked at each, turned a bit pale and looked away.
"Next question," Ezra said and Vin nodded, leaving Walter no doubt that this was not a topic they wanted touched yet.
"Let's go back to the beginning then," Walter said. "Where did you meet?"
"It was Bogota," Vin said.
"Three and three-quarter years ago," Ezra said.
"Four," Vin corrected him.
"Yes." Ezra sighed. "I was visiting Columbia three, four years ago..."
~Bogota, Columbia – three or four years ago
Americana Hotel~Sitting at the large central bar in the Americana Hotel, Ezra Standish watched, bottle of Chico Brown in hand, as the Bogota policias stormed through the front entrance.
"What's going on?" he asked the young barhop walking by in Spanish.
"Somebody killed the Barracuda," the boy answered in surprisingly good English and Ezra held up his bottle in recognition. The barhop gave a dimpled grin. "I've been practicing."
"You're doing well, my friend," Standish said switching to English. "So, someone finally got to Sancho Varron?"
"The policia are rounding up single tourists. Are you alone, sir?" the bellboy asked.
Before Ezra could answer there was a small commotion at the large glass doors leading to the street outside. He stood up to get a better look and noticed a long-haired man speaking with two policias who were blocking his attempt to come into the hotel bar. Their eyes met and suddenly the man was pointing at Ezra and gesturing. Knowing better, but intrigued anyway, Ezra stepped up to the entrance and the policias noticed him.
"This man says he is with you. Is this true?" one of the officers asked in heavily accented English as Ezra walked up to them.
Ezra took in the other man, the questioning look of 'help me out here?' the other man gave him was clear and before Ezra realized what he was doing he answered, "Yes."
Relief filled the eyes of the stranger and Ezra was suddenly happy he'd helped.
The officer took another hard look at the men and pushed the stranger toward Ezra. "You Americanos, you stay here."
"Whatever you say, sir," Ezra said. He grabbed the other man by the arm, pulled him into the bar and continued pulling him forward until they were standing in front of the most secluded booth, one that just happened to look out to the front street entrance and the entrance to the hotel lobby found at the other end of the bar.
"After you," Ezra said with a sweep of his hand, indicating that he wanted the other man to sit first.
With an amused smile the man did as bade and when Ezra took his seat, the man held out a hand. "Vin Tanner," he introduced himself. "Thanks for helping me out back there."
"My pleasure, Ezra Standish," Ezra said shaking Vin's hand, enjoying the raspy twanged accent --Texas if he wasn't mistaken, that was so different from his own Southern drawl -- but when Vin gripped his hand a little longer than was common for a handshake, Ezra raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't leave a fellow American stranded," he said and gently pulled his hand from Vin's grip while holding up his bottle for the bartender to see. "Beer?" Vin agreed. "Dos," Ezra called out and the bartender nodded.
"Thanks," Vin said. "Do you know what all the commotion is about?"
"Rumor is the Barracuda met his untimely end."
"Ah, Sancho Varron," Vin said nodding. He stopped talking as the barhop brought their beers, and set the table with fresh tortilla chips and salsa.
Ezra paid the boy, giving him a generous tip and continued the conversation, "Varron ran this province with an iron fist for years. They'll probably call it a local vendetta, but the CIA's been after this guy since the eighties. The locals and government will probably put in a show of searching for his killer, but I imagine for the most part people are just relieved he's dead."
"How do you know all this?" Vin asked, scooping salsa onto a chip.
"Time™ magazine," Ezra said blandly. When Vin chuckled out loud and smiled at him, Ezra was suddenly very aware of their proximity and the spark of attraction in Vin's twinkling blue eyes.
A loud noise sounding from the lobby had both men startling and going tense. They relaxed and grinned at each other sheepishly when they registered the group of laughing people heading into the bar from the hotel entrance.
"I was right in the street. I guess I was lucky," Vin said sitting back, taking another drink from his beer.
"Indeed," Ezra said. "Did you see anything?"
"Nope, was just walking down the road, minding my own business and then all these people started running and I headed back to the hotel."
"You're staying here, then?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yes."
There was silence and Ezra was wondering if he should say his goodbyes when Vin spoke.
"What are you doing in Columbia?"
"Vacation," Ezra answered. "And you, Mr. Tanner?"
"Vin, please. The same, on vacation. First time in the country."
"Are you here with friends, Vin?" Ezra asked.
"Nah, needed to get away, threw a dart at a map and here I am. Some vacation, though..." Vin let the sentence dangle and uncharacteristically Ezra felt very much like spending more time with him.
Motioning the barhop back over, Ezra quietly gave him his order and when the boy headed back to the bar, Ezra said to Vin, "If you like, I could show you some of the city after the hubbub dies down."
Vin looked a little startled and Ezra was sure the man was going to say no. He was pleasantly surprised when Vin agreed with a shy smile.
"I'd like that."
A bottle of Jose Cuervo Reserva de Familia™ slid onto the table, glasses, lime wedges and large salt shaker following and once again Ezra paid and tipped. He opened the bottle and poured a couple of shots, sliding one over to Vin.
"Nice," Vin said, noting the expensive tequila. "What's the occasion?"
"Dodging bullets," Ezra said raising his glass.
"Dodging bullets," Vin replied and they slugged back the shots together, sans salt or lime. "Smooth," Vin said and smiled brightly. He reached for the bottle this time, filled the glasses, raised his and waited for Ezra to do the same. "New friends."
"New friends," Ezra echoed pleased that Vin was enjoying the aged tequila, and again they downed the shots. He poured for both of them again, but instead of toasting, he kept his glass on the table choosing to sip instead. "So, Vin Tanner, where do you hale from?"
"Originally west Texas, Amarillo. Lately, wherever the job takes me." Vin followed along with Ezra and only sipped the tequila. "You?"
"Savannah, Georgia, originally." Ezra smiled at Vin. "Lately, pretty much like you, where ever the job needs me. I'm in computers, handling Wall Street, nothing exciting, but I get to travel and the perks are wonderful, suites at great hotels, cars, clothes and a really liberal expense account." Ezra pointed to the expensive tequila bottle.
"Perks, I understand, computers not so much. I'm with Halliburton, doing construction, rebuilding, get to see the world, that kind of stuff. "
"Sounds interesting, Mr. Tanner... I mean Vin," Ezra said correcting himself before Vin had the chance. He laughed softly, because any other time he would have been bored out of his mind and already gone. With Vin though, he really was interested and found he wanted to know more and wondered where the hell it was coming from. He didn't do this. Ever.
"I don't know about that, construction is construction and I obviously don't get the kind of perks you do, but I do okay. But hey, when you say suite... Ah, never mind," Vin said and blushed. He squirmed in his seat a bit and his knee knocked into Ezra's.
Ezra knew exactly what Vin was asking and for a second he thought about making the man say it, but one look at the pink covering Vin's face and making its way down the opening of his shirt had Ezra changing plans. "I do have a suite here. Would you like to see it?"
Vin grinned like a little boy on Christmas morning. "Yeah."
"Follow me," Ezra said.
They downed the rest of their drinks and got up from the booth. Ezra grabbed the tequila and glasses, and they made their way to the bank of elevators in the lobby. Ezra pushed the button and they silently waited for the car to come. Finally the hydraulic door opened with a quiet shushing noise and they stepped inside. Ezra hit the button for the top floor, gave Vin a reassuring smile, and hoped like hell that he hadn't misread the situation. Better yet, hoped like hell he knew what he was doing. The door closed and before he knew it, he found himself pressed against the back wall of the elevator with Vin holding onto his shoulders. Ezra had a moment of not-quite panic, but definitely a rethought that maybe he had only assumed there was mutual interest.
The couple of inches that Vin had on him height wise suddenly seemed a little threatening and Ezra tensed, ready to drop the tequila bottle in his left hand and the shot glasses in his right and throw Vin off, but the look in Vin's eyes dispelled the notion of physical danger. Ezra went dizzy with the knowledge that he hadn't misread anything. Vin was hungry -- for him -- and was looking at him like he was a four course meal -- one that he was ready to indulge in, right there.
"Say my name again," Vin demanded voice raspier, questioning and excited all at once.
"Vin," he whispered.
"No," Vin said. He gently kicked Ezra's legs further apart and moved between them. "The other way."
"Ah." Ezra chuckled, the sound coming from deep in his throat. "Mr. Tanner," he all but purred out, his accent deeper, tone very interested.
"Yeah..." Vin sighed and rested his forehead against Ezra's. "I want to hear my name on your lips all night, Ezra."
"I can do that, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said and raised his lips to Vin's. "All night," he murmured against Vin's mouth and then pressed in, his tongue sliding over Vin's lips seeking an entrance.
Somehow they made the ride to the top alone. Ezra was vaguely aware of the possibility that they could become a shocking floor show to any unwitting guest who called for their particular elevator car, or that the hotel could have installed cameras in the elevators, but he didn't care. All he was focused on was Vin, until the ding of the bell announced that they had made it to the top floor.
Once again they somehow made it to the door of his suite, kissing the whole way there. And then Vin's hands were digging through the front pockets of his pants searching for the room key. The door opened behind him, and he would have fallen backwards except that Vin was there to catch him, to push him back up against the now closed door, and Vin's hands were pulling up his shirt and Vin's mouth was everywhere.
Ezra needed to touch, feel Vin, something he couldn't seem to do and it confused him, until he realized that his hands were still full. He dropped the glasses and bottle, not caring if they broke. They didn't, and while that was a bonus, even better was that he could touch Vin. His hands roamed over the slight stubble on Vin chin and cheeks, upward to tangle into the messy long curls on his head, and down the back of Vin's neck, over strong shoulders, muscular back, coming to rest on the swell of Vin's ass.
"Mr. Tanner," he said moaning against Vin's mouth. "I need... ah, that is-"
"This, Ez. You need this," Vin replied, dropping to his knees in front of Ezra...
"And we've been together ever since," Vin said, finishing the tale.
"Really?" asked Walter. "Together as a committed couple right away? Or was there a later defining moment."
"Umm, defining moment?" Vin thought for a moment. He met Ezra's look and then nodded his head. "I'd say six months into it. We were already living together, but it was our trip to Ocean City. I knew then."
"Ah, yes," Ezra said with a smile. "Ocean City..."
~Ocean City, MD - two and a half, or three and a half years ago
Boardwalk~Strolling slowly along the brightly lit boardwalk, enjoying the evening breeze coming off the Atlantic Ocean cooling the hot, humid June air, Ezra watched fondly as Vin stopped them in front of Thrasher's. He stepped up to the window and ordered some french fries.
Ezra waited patiently, leaning back against the wood railing as Vin paid and then doused the fries in vinegar. Not for the first time during their last six months together, Ezra wondered how his partner managed to eat the vast amounts of food he consumed daily and stay in such amazing shape. Although, Ezra had to admit to himself, he might be a bit prejudiced when it came to Vin's shape.
"Want some?" Vin asked, coming back to Ezra's side, holding a fry out.
Ezra was going to decline, still full from dinner, but one look at the wide smile on Vin's face and he found himself opening his mouth as Vin placed the hot fried potato in it. He grimaced as the sour of salty vinegar hit his tongue. "I don't know how you can eat these," he said with a laugh.
"Are you kidding? Thrasher's are the best. I swear if I could, I'd live here just for the fries," Vin said stuffing his mouth.
"Just for the fries, eh? Not for the ice cream, cotton candy, caramel corn, salt-water taffy, corn dogs, nachos and lobster rolls?" Ezra teased reciting just some of the foods Vin had eaten over the course of their first full day in Ocean City.
"All that? That was just an appetizer. This," Vin nodded toward the 52 ounce bucket of fries, "is the main course."
"Of course."
While they resumed their way up the boardwalk toward the carnival attractions, Vin continued to try to impress on Ezra the importance of learning new places through the food available, and Ezra for his part, continued to let Vin try to impress him. He loved to hear Vin talk, topic didn't matter. He loved hearing Vin's thoughts, loved watching his mouth move, loved the way Vin's hands would join the conversation, trying to help him explain his point. Loved how sometimes Vin would pace when really worked up and passionate. Hell, he loved everything about the man. And he loved that Vin loved everything about him.
Once again, Ezra thanked whatever deity had seen fit to work it so they'd met in Columbia. So if Vin wanted to eat his weight in junk food, Ezra was more than willing to let him, he'd just make sure that Vin got plenty of exercise later.
"Step right up and try your luck--" the Barker's call interrupted their rambling.
"Oh, hey, this looks fun," Vin said pointing to the ancient firing range. "Wanna?" he asked Ezra.
"Sure." Ezra picked up a rifle and aimed at the paper targets covering the pegboard wall behind the Barker. He fired and missed badly, the recoil knocking him back a bit. He missed the small smile on Vin's face as he aimed again, this time barely missing the Barker.
"These things are rigged anyway," Ezra said with a sheepish grin as he put the rifle down.
"Hold this," Vin said holding the fry bucket out.
Ezra grabbed it and Vin picked up the rifle that Ezra had just put down. He weighed the rifle in his hands and rolled his head, popping his neck. Ezra gave the Barker a small shrug and the Barker smirked back at him. Suddenly the rifle went off, BANG! BANG! BANG! Ezra looked at the targets surprised. Vin had hit three of them dead center.
"Hot damn!" Vin exclaimed as the Barker handed him a small black and white stuffed dog. He took his fries back from Ezra and turned to go.
Ezra stopped him with a frown. "Mind if I try again?"
"By all means, Ezra," Vin said smiling, motioning Ezra forward.
Ezra watched the Barker reload the rifle and he reached for it. He took careful aim and fired six times quick. He set the rifle down and smiled at his six bulls eyes. "Beginner's luck, I guess" he said as he accepted a significantly larger stuffed dog from the stunned Barker.
"Damn. What other surprises you got in store?" Vin asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Why, Mr. Tanner, a gentleman never gives away his secrets," Ezra replied, deepening his voice the way he knew drove Vin crazy, and pulled him to another game...
"So, tell me what that trip was exactly," Walter said, and then knowing already that neither man would go first, he prompted them. "How about you first, Vin?"
"Oh, umm," Vin stammered, eyes wide. "That trip was when I knew, ya know?"
"Knew what?" Walter pressed.
"Knew that we were a go. A permanent team," Vin answered with a smile at Ezra.
"Okay and you, Ezra?" Walter asked.
"Exactly as Vin said. It was apparent that we were good together, that we would make a good team. Three months later we sealed the deal in Aruba," Ezra said and then looked at his watch, but never once at Vin. "I do believe our time is up."
Walter watched the smile leave Vin's face, but before he could say anything Vin stood up.
"Good talking with ya, Doc," he said and left Walter's office without a backward glance.
"You both might want to think about returning," Walter said looking at Ezra. "It's obvious you love each other, it's not too late to fix things."
"I'm not so sure about that," Ezra replied, heading for the open door. He caught a glimpse of the back of Vin as he turned the corner out of the larger outer office. He turned back to Walter. "I'll ask, but I don't know if..." he let the sentence trail off, not sure what to say.
"Think about it," Walter said.
"Yes, well, good day, Mr. Bryce." Ezra left the office without stopping at the registration desk to make another appointment.
Ezra made it to the parking garage just in time to catch sight of Vin's classic '69 Camaro leave the driveway, it's powerful V8 engine growling as it made its way up the street, the rumbling sound of the glasspack muffler bouncing off the surrounding buildings. Without meaning to, he knew he'd hurt Vin's feelings when he wouldn't look at him. It was just that he hadn't wanted Vin to see how upset he was, and he'd needed a moment to control himself so that he didn't make a fool out of himself. Maybe he should have let Vin see how much their distance was affecting him? He just didn't know if a therapist was what they needed. Maybe they did? Hell, he didn't know. He knew that he wanted their life back. He just had no idea how to go about getting it.
Heading to his own car, he thought about Vin and their life. They were blessed, he knew that. They had a life that most of their friends envied, love for each other, good paying jobs they both enjoyed, a beautiful Mission Revival home in the Inner Sunset area of San Francisco they had restored together, new cars every two years and new toys whenever they wanted. Yes, they had everything and yet the more stuff they accumulated it seemed the farther away they got from each other. But Ezra knew it couldn't be as simple as monetary dissatisfaction. The coldness between the two of them went deeper. It was confusing as hell.
~Portola Dr., San Francisco~
Vin guided the classic Camaro easy through the late afternoon traffic on Portola. Mind turning over and over the conversation in the therapist's office, he wasn't aware that the lights were blessing him as he turned left at Sloat and quickly merged onto N35. A couple of fast dodges between slower vehicles later, he gained the far left lane, turned up the stereo and pinned the gas pedal, opening her full up, leaving the city behind.
TBC... (honestly, cuz I like how this story is going *bg*)