Misunderstanding
(ATF)

by Gemspegasus

Summary: Chris overhears a snippet of conversation between Ezra and Josiah. He misunderstands it. Will Ezra clarify it for him?
Pairing: Chris/Ezra implied
Characters: Ezra/Chris, Josiah
Rating: FRT - PG
Feedback: Yes, please at gemspegasus@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The Seven don't belong to me. I'm only saddling them up for a 'ride' or 3. I will return them to MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy when we're done. ATF universe was created by Mog. Thank you Mog for letting us play in it. "Anatole," and "Bertie Wooster" belong to P.G. Wodehouse and his estate. Not mine. No copyright infringement intended. This was written for fun only. No profit made.


Chris paused just outside the entrance to the coffee-break room. Ezraís honeyed voice floated out into the bullpen. "Well, I have an engagement with "Plum" this evening."

The thought of a curvaceous red-head popped into Chrisís head while he frowned and curled his hands into fists.

Josiahís deep baritone answered, "Say hello to "Anatole" for me."

Ezra chuckled and replied that he would.

The blond man pursed his lips into a straight line when the idea of a chef at a fancy French restaurant flitted through his mind. Chris heard the sounds of Ezra and Josiah coming out of the coffee break room and the ding of the elevator at the same time. Larabee sprinted for the elevator because he had a meeting with Travis which should have started five minutes ago.

Josiah and Ezra entered a now empty bullpen.

Buck had left for his date, JD and Nathan had gone to pick up Casey and Rain, respectively and Vin was out on the shooting range.

Ezra was happy to be home. He had been back now for a week and a half. He was finally beginning to completely unwind from the tough undercover assignment he had been on for the last month. Tonight, the Southerner just wanted to curl up with a good book and relax.

Josiah clapped Ezra on the shoulder, wished him a good night and said, "See you at the ranch on Sunday.í

The undercover agent nodded. Day after tomorrow, he would relish being in the company of his six brothers, especially that of his team leader. Ezra had realized he was in love with Chris Larabee just before he had gone undercover four weeks ago.

Sunday, he would implement his plan to conquer Chrisís heart.

About twenty minutes later, Ezra arrived at his condo, changed out of his Helmut Lang suit into a pair of charcoal grey pants and a black cashmere sweater. He then started a fire in his fireplace. After making sure the fire was blazing safely in the hearth in the middle of the room, Ezra padded barefoot across the burgundy colored carpet, to the small bookcase in the corner of the room. He had just retrieved the novel, he was currently rereading from the top of the bookcase when he heard a loud pounding at his front door.

Putting the book back down on the bookcase, Ezra drew his gun and cautiously approached the door. As he crept closer, he heard his bossís voice calling his name. Ezra clicked the safety of his gun back on and opened the door with a startled, "Mr. Larabee?"

Chrisís hazel eyes scanned the man in front of him and then the room behind his undercover agent.

Ezra had changed clothes but had not yet donned socks and shoes.

The Southerner realized he was barefoot and a slight flush warmed his cheeks while his toes curled into the carpet. He waved Chris inside and put his weapon away. Ezra was about to excuse himself to put some footwear on when Chris spoke up.

"Sorry, about interrupting your date with Plum. It would be best if you canceled because we have to clarify some details about the King case before tomorrow morning at 9am because thatís when Travis wants to see the whole team." Chris said.

Bare feet forgotten, Ezra stared at his team leader.

Who did Chris think "Plum" was? Had Chris talked to Josiah? Ezraís thoughts whirled.

The blond thrust his cell phone into the Southernerís hand. "Here, call her," said Chris.

The cell lay in the palm of his hand as Ezra asked, "Have you spoken to Mr. Sanchez, this evening?"

The blond manís inpatient, "Havenít talked to him since this afternoon" was his answer.

"Youíre not dialing," hissed out Chris.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, Chris pivoted around and yanked open the door. "Ezra has to cancel your engagement this evening because of work." Chris spat out before even properly looking at the person in the doorway.

A nervous, startled young man said, "Was just delivering Mr. Standishís dinner" and pushed a bag from Florentineís restaurant into Chrisís hands. The young man then bolted back to his car.

Ezra closed the door behind Henri and gazed at his perplexed friend.

"Your dinner? Thought I overhead you tell ĎSiah you had an engagement with "Plum" tonight?" Chris asked as Ezra led him into the kitchen. The blond set the Florentine bag on the table while Ezra replied, "I do."

If Ezra had not been watching Chris so intently, he would have missed the jealously which flashed in Chrisís hazel eyes and then disappeared behind Larabeeís familiar stoic look.

"But it can wait." Ezra breathed. Then the Southerner took a gamble, tilted his head and kissed Chris on the lips.

For a moment or two, Chris froze then slid his arms around Ezraís waist, pulling the smaller man closer to him and deepened the kiss.

The need to breathe eventually broke up the kiss. The blond let out a growled, "Mine, not Plumís nor anyone elseís. Mine."

Ezra placed a butterfly kiss against Chrisís jaw spun out of the older manís arms and then tugged Chris into the living room.

They stopped in front of the bookcase.

The undercover agent picked up the book he had left there earlier and opened it up to the introduction page and handed it over to Chris.

Ezra said, "Mr. Larabee read the page."

Chris read it, his brows creased in confusion and then cleared in understanding.

When Chris raised his head to look at the younger man, Ezra cupped the blondís face within the palms of his hands and whispered, "You can be as dense as Bertie Wooster, sometimes." He then sealed his lips over Chrisís lips for another breathtaking kiss.

The book fluttered to the carpet, forgotten for the rest of the evening.

The next morning, Chris thanked God that he had packed an extra set of clothes in the Ram because he didnít have time to go home and change before the meeting with Travis.

Ezra insisted that they each take their own vehicle to the meeting.

Chris didnít like it but he understood it.

Chris followed Ezra into the bullpen, Josiah was already there. They greeted each other and then Josiah asked Ezra how "Plum" and "Anatole" were.

Josiah smiled happily when Ezra gave him a gold-toothed grin and then the profiler raised his coffee cup to his lips and blinked his blue-grey eyes several times.

Was Chris Larabee blushing?

THE END

Author's Note: Introduction Page read P.G. Wodehouse or Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse known to his family and friends as "Plum" was born in Guildford in 1881.

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