I'm really a C/V fan, but somehow, they just wouldn't fit this scenario. E fans, I hope I did okay by your boy. Very light, kinda fun, hopefully not too dumb.

"Ezra. Get in here, will ya?"

Ezra Standish's head rose from his desk. He looked toward the office from which the voice bellowed.

"Uh, Ezra?" It bellowed again, though somehow softer this time. "Now...uh, please."

It was the last word added to the others that made the rest of Team 7's members all raise their heads in unison. Did they really hear 'please'? Ezra stood, feeling several pairs of eyes follow him as he made his way to the bellower's office. With raised eyebrows and a last quick glance at his teammates, he entered the office of Chris Larabee, team leader.

"Something I can do for you, Mr. Larabee?" Ezra was trying to recall the last time he'd heard the word please come out of the mouth of any of the men with whom he worked.

"Have a seat, Ezra." Chris hadn't yet looked up, Ezra noted, instead he seemed fixed on whatever was written on the sheet in front of him. Ezra eyed the chair before him. He suddenly felt unsettled. He tried to think of any transgression he may have committed recently, nothing, however, came to mind. He sat, waiting for the next word. Chris seemed absorbed by whatever he was reading, and the seconds seemed to tick off in Ezra's head. He shifted in the chair, suddenly aware of just how uncomfortable it really was. He fingered the small rip in the fabric of the armrest, crossed then uncrossed his legs shifting his body again.

"Settle down, Ezra. You're not in any trouble."

Ezra stilled, staring at the top of the blond head bent over the pages on the desk. His finger worried the rent already in the dark green upholstery, suddenly enlarging it further. He quickly covered it with his hand.

"You and Vin sure seem t'want to destroy that chair o'mine."

"Excuse me, Mr. Larabee, you did specify my presence, did you not?" Patience was a virtue most assuredly, but Ezra couldn't account for any misdeed he might have done and he was tired of the suspense. Was it something he had done? No, Chris didn't seem extremely upset, yet his voice had held a stern note when he initially beckoned him. Maybe it was about the next case. Maybe his next undercover assignment was to be so abysmal, Chris was hesitant to tell him.

Ezra frowned. Why couldn't the man just say what he wanted and be done with it? He was usually extremely adept at reading a person, knowing for certain which direction they'd go even before they themselves decided. This was his expertise. The reason he was so good at what he did. The reason he was the team's undercover agent. But now... He stared more intently at the bowed head in front of him, what was going on?

"Mr. Larabee? If I may...?"

"Okay, Ezra. Just a second. There. Done." Chris put aside the papers he'd been so intent on reading. He took out another pad of paper, scanned it, then addressed Ezra.

"We have a dinner to attend."

"We? We, as in you and me? Or the collective we, as in the team in entirety?" Ezra breathed a sigh of relief. A dinner. Was that all? "When and where and why are you singling me out?" Suddenly he was feeling somewhat suspicious again.

"We as in all seven of us. Plus two more, AD Travis and his niece, so that makes nine. I thought since Nathan was the only married member of our group that he might like to bring Rain, so I guess that makes ten in total. Some time around 7:30 or so, maybe?"

"And the reason for the dinner is..." Was it really this simple? He just wanted to give me the total head count for this dinner? Hmmm, something seemed out of sorts.

"Travis wants to congratulate us on finishing the Webster case so efficiently. There were no injuries, the stolen firearms were all recovered, we came in under budget and well within the projected time frame. He's pleased. Wants to do something nice."

"So I say, let him. All of which is admirable, however, you don't need to be explaining this to me solely, so, where do I come in?" Ezra was becoming disinterested. Fine, another business dinner. He was less than enthused.

"Well, seems this niece is Travis' favorite sister's daughter. He hasn't seen her in quite some time and wants to make a good impression. Take her somewhere really fancy, extravagant, y'now, somewhere you'd go."

"Thank you, I think. But, two queries. One, why take us along? He isn't going to impress the young woman by having the seven of us accompany him to dinner, why on earth would he want us there? And two, you're telling me this in the privacy of your office because...?"

"Well, Travis had to fly out last night and won't be back until this afternoon and he wants the dinner to take place tonight. Apparently his niece is in town for a only a brief time, something about some deadline she needs to meet. Anyway, I told him I'd take care of making the reservations and picking her up. He can meet us at the restaurant, I'll leave a message as to where we decide to go."

"How thoughtful. Now, where is it you need me specifically?" Ezra was getting slightly agitated. There most assuredly was a reason he was sitting in this increasingly uncomfortable chair, he just wanted Chris to get to the point.

"Well, turns out Monica, that's the niece..."

"I gathered."

"Yes, well, Monica seems to be extremely interested in what her favorite uncle does for a living. She.."

"Oh, Lord. "

"Ezra, let me finish."

"My apologies. Go ahead."

"So she heard about the Walker case on the news and..."

"Dear God"

"Ezra, please."

"Sorry, sorry, please...continue."

"Okay, so she sees the story on the news and realizes favorite uncle is a part of the whole thing and..."

"and my, wouldn't it be just so swell to surround herself with all these fabulous ATF agents who can spend their evening regaling the little thing with stories of bravery and heroicism."

"Ezra, sarcasm is not needed and anyway, that's not what I was going to say."

"Really. Sorry, then do go on."

"We-e-ll, she mentioned to Travis the story she saw and hinted that, well...that, wouldn't it be interesting if she could maybe meet the men who..."

"Oh. Oh, I knew it. While I find the idea of having a celebratory dinner pleasing, I must say that the thought of being the evening's entertainment leaves me cold."

"Well, you better get out your woolies then, Ezra because you're picking her up at 7:00."

The dinner was progressing nicely, Chris noted. He and Travis were seated opposite each other at one end of the long table, providing him a clear view of the others. He hoped the seating arrangements were all right, fearing that Travis' niece would not like having to sit at the other end of the table, away from her uncle. She and Ezra had arrived late to the table, and sat in the last available chairs.

Chris looked around at his team. They were as relaxed as he'd seen them in a while. Nathan, Rain and Josiah were engaged in conversation with Travis, and whatever JD was saying to Vin had the two of them in near hysterics. Chris frowned at the idea of Buck sitting next to Monica, perhaps that hadn't been the wisest of moves, knowing the man found most women too irrisistable, hell some men, too, but then he relaxed. Ezra was seated across from them, he wouldn't let Buck get too out of hand. Chris sighed, too bad Vin wasn't sitting next to him. He leaned back, glancing briefly at the young man who returned his smile with one of his own, then turned his attention back to Rain, and the conversation at hand.

Ezra was miserable.

The restaurant was lovely. The food was delicious. The dinner, totally paid for. The wine...

The wine was at the other end of the table. Ezra picked up his glass, holding it by its delicate stem. It was empty. And considering what was going on under the table, had been going on for a good twenty minutes now, he most assuredly needed another drink. Or three.

He glanced up at the woman facing him. God, was that a leer? He feigned a smile, then quickly grabbed the sleeve of the waiter as he passed. He held up his empty glass, waving it in the air. "Please?" He was practically begging. The waiter poured him half a glass of the musty cabernet. Ezra placed his hand over the waiter's, forcing the glass full.

Okay, if asked, Ezra would admit the woman was nice, attractive and intelligent. They had shared a pleasant conversation on the ride over, nothing wrong with that. And, really, he would have to admit, she wasn't being overtly obvious, no voiced sexual innuendo, nothing that would alert the others that anything out of the ordinary was taking place. But it was, and, for once, he didn't know what to do.

Good Lord, he was even starting to perspire from the anxiety of it all.

When first seated, he was somewhat annoyed at being placed so far away from the adults. Somehow, he'd ended up sitting at the wrong end of the table. Not that he minded dining with Vin, JD and Buck, it was just that he was fairly certain being that close in proximity to the three would lead to disaster for his new Armani jacket and he also didn't relish the idea of spending another evening listening to who-beat-who in pro-wrestling. So, in a way, he was thankful for having Monica seated across from him, having someone with whom to have an interesting, intellectual conversation. But now, God, he hadn't heard a word anyone had said in the last half hour.

He was trying to ignore it. Maybe it would stop, go away. But, then, he didn't want to be insulting, either. She was the relative of the boss. He couldn't just dismiss this, pretend like nothing was happening, so, what should he do? What exactly was the favored protocol in situations such as this one? 'Okay, Miss Manners', Ezra thought, ' in which chapter of your book would one find the proper procedure of extricating a foreign object from one's nether region'. Ezra smiled to himself. If the whole affair wasn't so pathetic, he might be highly amused.

When the appendage first made its presence known, Ezra had just place a mouthful of salad between his lips. He felt the slight pressure on his crotch, and without having to confirm it, he was certain there was an alien foot massaging him through his crisp silk pants. At the first gentle stroke of the obviously limber toes, he blew most of the romaine lettuce back onto his plate. Vin, seated to his left, burst into immediate laughter, garnering Ezra the unwanted attention from the rest of his dining companions.

"Really, Mr. Tanner, that was an absolute childish response," Ezra admonished, trying to cover up for more than just his embarrassment.

"Sorry, Ez, y'just took me by surprise. Never expected you t'be the explosive type. Y'okay, there?" Vin placed a hand on the other man's back.

"Yes, yeah...I'm fine," he responded, now not certain what to do with the napkin laying over his lap. Should he leave it there, helping to cover the movements beneath? Or should he use it, to help clean himself of the spewed lettuce. As if on cue, the foot slid down and he used the napkin, the foot reappeared as he placed it back over his lap. He glanced up at Monica, she did seem to have a slight smirk on her face, but also was terribly engrossed in whatever tale Vin and Buck were recounting. Ezra tried to listen, staring at the dark-haired man for several minutes, not realizing how intent his gaze was becoming until Buck spoke.

"Somethin' wrong, Ezra?"

Ezra shook his head, looking elsewhere, nope, nothing wrong, not here, not at all. I always enjoy dining with a stranger's foot kneading my privates and none too delicately, either, I might add. What does she do, aerobics for her toes?

Ah, the check. Finally. Ezra was relieved the end of the meal had finally arrived. He had now suffered, and 'yes', he thought, 'suffer it was', though a two hour dinner while becoming fairly intimate with the foot of a woman he'd known for approximately the same amount of time that he'd known the waiter. And the sad part was, it wasn't the foot with which he'd have chosen to share a repast. That foot would remain, he was sure, firmly encased it its leather shoe, never to wander in his direction. Ever. He sighed, pushing that thought out of his mind, and not for the first time.

"Well Monica, did you enjoy yourself with these fine gentlemen?" Orrin Travis asked his niece as he pulled her chair out for her, helping her rise. The men at the table all stood while the pair said their goodbyes.

"Oh, it was a most enjoyable evening. I can't thank you all enough for including me in your celebratory dinner. I don't remember when I've ever heard such interesting stories, what an exciting line of work." Monica stood, gathering her purse. "I'm sorry I'm leaving so abruptly, but I really must be going. I have an early deadline tomorrow, and I still have several hours of rewrite on my article about underpriviledged children to do tonight. Thank you all so much, and Vin? I truly would love to meet those kids in your neighborhood, some day." She leaned over, pressing her hand to Vin's in a brief handshake.

"Really, my dear, we should get going. I need to get you back to your hotel, and I have some unpacking from my trip to do. Goodnight, gentlemen." He reached out to help his niece from the table. She stumbled slightly, bumping into her uncle.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I guess so, my foot's fallen asleep. It's got that pins and needles feeling, funny, huh?" She and her uncle said goodnight once more, then turned and left.

Ezra almost choked hearing those words. He excused himself, and hurried off to the men's room, suddenly realizing how much wine he had consumed.

The others sat, leisurly finishing dessert and coffee.

"Vin, what's that you got? Monica slipped you something?" JD laughed, pulling at the small paper clutched in the other man's hand. "I don't believe it, she gave you her phone number! Hah! Buck, Chris, didja see this? Travis's niece has the hots for Vin!"

"Nah, JD, ain't that, she jus' wants t'talk t'me about where I live an' th'k ids there. Y'now, something 'bout her article. Really, that's all." Vin explained, grabbing the paper away from JD. He was as surprised as anyone when he felt her slide it into his hand. He glanced quickly toward Chris who was glaring at him. Oh boy, he sighed.

"Oh, right Vin. Yeah, the article she's rushin' home to finish tonight. Lotta good talkin' t'you next week's gonna do that. Yup," JD was grinning, this was a riot.

Chris wasn't amused.

Ezra returned, happily seating himself at the table, sans groin obstruction. He was now going to sit back, enjoy his Grand Marnier and take pleasure in the always unpredictable company of his fellow teammates.

After inhaling deeply, he took a sip of the amber liquid, rolling it around his mouth before swallowing. Smooth as silk, the liquor slid down his throat, warming him as he felt it enter his full belly. Jade-green eyes half-closed in pleasure, he raised the crystal glass to his lips a second time when again, he choked. His eyes flashed front, startled. The foot, it was back.

"Ez, y'okay?"

He looked up, Buck whispering to him from across the table, white teeth shining brightly from under his dark moustache. He was grinning. Hugely.

"Buck. Buck?"