Title: Trust

Author: Birgit "Lee" Kohls

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and there is no profit. Magnificent Seven belong to Mirisch, CBS, MGM and Trilogy.

Rating : PG 13, langage, some swearing

Spoilers: None

Warning: None... unless you count in tars and feathers... and something horrible happens to Vin's hair

Archive: Not betaed, so it's not ready for archiving yet.

Summary: Ezra makes a mistake and Vin has to pay for it.

Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, so humour me. :)

Feedback: Serious comments welcome. Please send to Lee

Saw a man in the movies that didn't have a heart
How I wish I could give him mine
Then I wouldn't have to feel it breaking all apart
And this emptiness inside would suit me fine

It's times like these
I wish I were a tin man
You could hurt me all you wanted
And I'd never even know
I'd give anything just to be the tin man
And I wouldn't have a heart and I wouldn't need a soul

Tin Man (lyrics by Kenny Chesney / Stacey Slate / David Lowe)

Part 1

Ezra Standish was in an excellent mood. He tucked the $200 into his boot and went for the livery, knowing very well that he had to hurry if he wanted to leave the town of Whitewater before the honest citizens would find out about the scam he had pulled. He smiled and congratulated himself for his wits and skills. Vin, though not stupid, had been an easy prey for him. The tracker didn't know that he had been used in one of the best performed cons Standish had pulled in years, and if everything worked according to plan, Vin never would know he had been used. Ezra hummed a tune as he entered the dark livery, mounted his horse and rode out of the small town to the place where he and Tanner were supposed to meet.

"Trust me, he said..." the feather and tar covered figure muttered, wandering through the night. "Just a favor, he said..."

"Piece of cake, he said..." he angrily tried to wipe some feathers from his face, only making the mess worse in the attempt. "Yer just wait for him in the saloon to pick up the package and then we meet outside of town, Mr. Tanner.. Ha!"

In the faint light of dawn he could make out a horse, a campfire and a familiar person. "Gawddamnitezra!"

The hours had crept by painstakingly slow, but there was no sign of Vin. Ezra began to worry. What happened to the Texan? The sun crawled over the horizon and Standish was about to return to Whitewater, when a string of obscenities startled him out of his thoughts.

"Bastard! Ya good-fer-nothing cheat!" Tanner launched himself on the unsuspecting Southerner.

"Tarred me. Feathered me." The punches came fast and violent, knocking the air out of Ezra before he was able to react. "Took my horse 'n saddle. Ruined my coat, ruined my hat, ruined my hair!"

"Vin... Please...." Standish managed between two blows. He didn't really expect it to work; after all, Vin's anger was more than justified. "I didn't know... perfect plan..."

With a disgusted snicker, Vin pulled Ezra up by his lapels and gave him a stare that told the gambler exactly what he thought about the 'perfect plan'. "Yer luck that I wasn't ridin' Peso. But you're gonna pay for this, I swear!"

With that, Tanner dropped the hapless Southerner and went for the small, nearby creek to clean himself from the stinking crust that covered his skin and cloths. He'd think about a decent punishment for the sneaky gambler after he had scratched off the thick layer that covered him and turned himself into a human being again.

Ezra sat on the ground and tried to figure out feverishly what had gone wrong. His scam had been bullet proof. How could the townspeople have found out about it? He needed some sort of logical explanation, needed to know how he had botched up. No, he knew how he had botched up. He had pulled a friend into an endeavor that was born out of pure greed. The money wad in his boot suddenly lost its reassuring feeling. What the heck had he been thinking? Instead of easy gained money he now had a mad Tanner at hand, and the very real chance that the bruises he now sported wouldn't be the only retribution for the indignation Vin had suffered. Then another thought hit him, knowing only too well the dreadful effects that piping hot tar had on the unprotected skin. Vin would need medical attention with the burns and sure would be in a world of pain. Tar wounds could get outright ugly and left nasty scars.

Vin looked at the tar-smeared buckskin coat with dismay. Just like his hat, the coat was ruined. And he didn't even want to think about his hair... Fortunately, the good citizens weren't too vindictive and had only used a the mixture of cow dung, mud and tar, sparing Tanner the worst. But there had been enough tar in the smeary concoction to stick in the long strands of his hair and glue them together effectively. Ezra would have to cut it, there was no chance to remove the tar. That was, if the little weasel wasn't gone already. With a sigh, Vin got up from the cold stream and walked back to the camp fire. Much to his surprise, the gambler hadn't run, but instead had made breakfast. When he saw Vin returning, Ezra handed him a fresh shirt and gave him an apologetic look. Tanner just glowered at Standish until the Southerner lowered his eyes.

They ate in silence, Vin still too upset to talk and Ezra mulling over his options. When they had finished their meal, the gambler wanted to gather the plates and clean them, but Tanner held him back. "Cut my hair and gimme that shirt. Can't show up in Four Corners like this."

Standish nodded briefly and trimmed down the long curls with his razor until the tar-glued strands were all gone, leaving Tanner with not even 1/3rd of the original length. Ezra didn't even want to begin to think about the questions that would certainly come once they returned home. Home. Cold fear gripped his heart. Would Vin tell around what happened? Why shouldn't he? Ezra's betrayal had been of the worst kind, endangering Vin's life and destroyed the faint bond of friendship that the two of them had established. "Mr. Tanner..."

Vin coldly looked at his fellow peacekeeper and snapped: "What?"

Ezra flinched, then his poker face slipped into place firmly. "I wanted to voice my deepest regrets about what happened to you. Let me assure you, if I had known about the outcome, I would never have considered to involve you into this... unsuccessful business venture. Please believe me."

"Believe ya?" Tanner snarled maliciously and his eyes became small slits. "Ya think I still trust ya after this?"

The gambler swallowed hard. "I have to admit that my position is not the strongest at the moment."

With a sigh, he reached down to his boot, removed the money and handed it to Vin. "I am aware that this won't make up for the indignation you suffered, but..."

"That the money ya conned out of 'em townspeople?" Vin eyed the small pile.

"Indeed," a certain pride swung in Standish's voice until he noticed the expression of disgust in the tracker's face.

"Ya return it." It was an order, not a request. Vin had had it with the unpredictable Southerner. The damned gambler had taken him for a fool the last time. "And yer gonna explain what happened."

"As you wish," Ezra evaded the accusing glare from the tracker's blue eyes. Curse his greed! Why didn't he know when to stop as soon as money was involved?

"Mr. Tanner, if you'd just allow me to clean my face..." Ezra tried to reason with Vin for the nth time. The tar had dried under the burning sun and itched on his skin. After they had returned to Whitewater and Ezra had explained the 'misunderstanding' and, under the encouraging glare of Tanner, soothed the citizens' ruffled feathers with the $100 savings that were still in his boot, Ezra had hoped that his debt was paid. He even managed to have them return Vin's horse and saddle, taking away that obstacle as well. But when Vin had quietly exchanged a few words with the mayor, it dawned to him that he'd have to compensate for the indignation as well. Needless to say that the gambler had been covered in the same stinking, gooey substance that Tanner had to endure before.

"Shut up, Standish." Vin trained his mare's leg at Ezra. He still was upset, but by now more about himself than about Ezra. Sure, it had been the gambler who had been responsible for the mess, but if Vin hadn't been so careless, he'd never have ended up in this embarrassing situation to begin with. He had sworn to himself that very moment he wouldn't fall for the Southerner's tricks in the future. Then again, looking back, how was it possible that he had overlooked the obvious signs of Ezra being up to something? He knew the man long enough to read his body language quite well, and Standish by far wasn't as good a con man as he claimed to be. So why had he been able to play his game on the tracker? 'Because I chose to see what I wanted to see. I seriously thought he had changed.'

Ezra sighed deeply and gave in to his fate. By now, he had given up hope that Vin would forgive him. Tanner was tense and in a dark mood, making it perfectly clear that he didn't trust him any longer. The man even had his gun trained at him! 'Congrats. When you botch up, you do it thoroughly,' Ezra scolded himself. And what about Four Corners? His stomach churned at the thought. How could he explain away what happened to Tanner, his own ruined appearance, the weapon that was pointed at him? Vin's word was worth more than the word of a cheat like him, Ezra thought sourly. Besides, more lies would only make things worse. He had to face the facts, and the facts were that his life as a peacekeeper had come to an abrupt end. Larabee would kick him out of town after sweeping the floor with his sorry hide, that much was certain. Standish imagined the looks of disappointment, the 'We knew it all along'. Sadness grabbed his heart, a twinge of desperation found its way into his thoughts as he tried to fathom the loss he would encounter in a few hours. The itching suddenly seemed easier to bear than what lay ahead of him. "Damn."

Vin studied the Southerner's back carefully. The unusual quiet and the definite slump in the man's shoulders hadn't escaped his attention. He wondered what went through Ezra's brain right now. Was he plotting his escape? But then, Ezra wasn't his prisoner, was he? Then why was Vin's gun ready to sent a load of lead into the back of the tar covered gambler at the slightest sign of trouble? The tracker ran a hand through the shortened hair and shook his head in dismay. This was all wrong. In little over an hour, they would be back in Four Corners, and then what? Ezra would be humiliated in front of the entire town, not to mention that there would a few unpleasant questions to be answered. With a sigh, Vin returned the Mare's leg to its holster. No matter how much he'd love to see the gambler being knocked down a few pegs, something inside him told him that this wasn't the right time or the right way. "Ezra?"

"Yes, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra reigned his horse and slowly turned around, ignoring the scratching the tar laden fabric of his shirt caused with every move.

"Clean yerself up."

"But... that would take a while," Ezra wasn't sure on how to react on the unexpected turn of events. He had seen that the gun was no longer pointing at him, saw something like resignation in Vin's face.

"Ya rather wanna ride into town like this?" Vin growled.

"Of course not, Mr. Tanner." Ezra hesitated a moment, then decided to put everything on a single card. If this malaise he had maneuvered himself into didn't get sorted out here and now, no cleaning in the world would be able to wash off the label that stuck to Ezra. Bastard. Good for nothing cheat. He had been called worse names, but never before anything people had hurled at him had stung like this. "I just was under the impression that you wanted everyone to know about my... misbehavior."

Vin searched the Southerner's green eyes for signs of a new trap, but all that he saw was deep regret. "Well, yer impression was wrong. Hope ya learned yer lesson. Cross me again, and ya will beg for tar and feathers."

The threat was delivered in Tanner's soft Texan drawl, but it didn't lose any of its impact.

The sun began to settle by the time they reached Four Corners. Both men hadn't said much in the past few hours, and the uneasy silence lay over them like molasses.

"About time you came back," Chris Larabee stepped out of the shadows. He watched the two dismount and immediately noticed the tension between his fellow peacekeepers and frowned. "Anything happened I should know about? Ezra? Vin?"

Ezra shot Vin a furtive glance, but didn't answer. Tanner just muttered something that Chris couldn't understand and followed the gambler over to the livery.

Chris didn't like it. In the dim light of the fires, he could make out the weird attire of the unusually subdued men. What happened to Vin's coat? And Ezra's maroon jacket? Now that he was thinking of it... Tanner seemed to have had a haircut. The frown deepened to a scowl. Determined to find out the truth, the dark clad gunslinger went after his men.

The livery was quiet. Only the sounds of the animals could be heard, accompanied by the occasional noises that came from the boxes where Tanner and Standish were tending to their mounts. The unmistakable smell of hay, straw, horses and horse byproducts assaulted Chris's nose. But through the familiar background of sounds and smells, a foul stench wobbled, intensifying with every step that Chris came closer to the men. It took him a moment, then he identified the odor as the unmistakable stink of tar. Where on earth did the two pick up that reek? A suspicion grew in the blond gunslinger, and he didn't like the implications.

"I want to know what happened," Larabee's tone left no room for interpretation.

"Mr. Larabee... Let me explain..." Ezra quickly covered the events that lead to their pitiful state. He tried to smooth the edges of the tale he told, talking about misunderstandings, a business gone all wrong and how sorry he felt for the mishap that befell Vin. All the time, the gambler didn't dare to look at Tanner, feeling the damning blue eyes spear into his very soul with every word he rapidly uttered. "... and as you can see, it was entirely my fault."

Ezra took in a deep breath and squared his shoulders, preparing to take the brunt of Chris's anger that he knew would inevitably follow.

Larabee closely studied the Southerner's face for a few seconds, knitting his brows when Standish evaded his eyes. "That true, Vin?"

Vin had watched the entire scene, marveled on how Ezra had managed to make a mess sound like a Sunday afternoon walk. The man surely had his way with words. Still, the slippery snake looked as if he was waiting for the apocalypse to begin any moment, lost and helpless, playing a part that had been ingrained since his childhood. Now that Vin paid close attention to what Standish was doing, the gambler's moves became predictable.

"Vin?" Chris noticed Tanner's hesitation and his anger grew. There was more to this than Ezra's story had revealed. Something just didn't sat right. He could sense the deep sitting distrust that radiated from the Texan.

"'s as he said. Just a misunderstanding," the tracker finally said. "Listen, I'm hungry and tired..."

The silent communication that went on between Chris and Vin in that brief moment didn't go unnoticed by Ezra. He had learned to decipher some of the secret code the two seemed to use. Ezra swore under his breath. Larabee knew. Their fearless leader had seen straight through the lies and no matter that Tanner had confirmed his story... The simple fact that Vin no longer trusted Ezra was in the open for Chris, the gambler realized with growing fear.

"Mr. Tanner, how about if I invite you for dinner and a glass or two of good whiskey afterwards?" With a broad smile that let the gold tooth sparkle in the dim lit livery, the gambler added: "From my personal supplies, of course."

"Not. Interested." Vin managed through gritted teeth. Right now, all that he wanted was to get away from Standish's presence, take a long bath and forget about this disastrous day.

"As you wish," Ezra swallowed the harsh rejection without any outward trace of emotion. The smile he wore seemed like it was glued to his face. "If the gentlemen would excuse me now, I have some personal business to attend. "

With that, he strode passed the tracker and the gunslinger, hoping that he'd find forgiveness in the solitude of his room.

Chris stared after him with a puzzled look. When Ezra was gone, Larabee tried again to get an answer out of Vin. "Care to tell me what really happened?"

Ezra lay on his feather bed and stared at the ceiling. He had spent most of the evening in the bath house, sacrificed some of his spare money just to get the horrible smell off him. When he had found himself to be sufficiently cleaned, he had returned to the saloon, dressed in a fresh, crisp white shirt and fully willing to enjoy himself by playing a few hands of poker. But his plan was sabotaged by Buck and JD, who had welcomed him warmly and then tried to pry some information out of him of why Vin had suddenly decided to trim down his hair to a length that barely covered his ears. When the gambler had finally managed to shake those two off, Tanner - now equally scrubbed and clean - had entered the saloon and joined Wilmington and Dunne at their usual table, completely ignoring Ezra. It had drawn more than a curious look from Buck and JD, to say the least. But what was even worse, it had made Ezra feel like punched into the stomach once more. He had tried to numb the uneasy feeling with whisky, false laughter and numerous winning hands at poker, but none of it brought the desired results.

And now... despite his tiredness, he couldn't find sleep. Again and again he wrecked his mind about how things could have gone so horribly wrong. Then again, it wasn't like he had never pulled such a scam before. Ezra had never seen anything wrong about it, it was just another way to get the precious funds that he needed to survive in a harsh world full of enemies. And he'd always had been gone in time to evade the dreadful consequences that failing or being discovered had.

Then why was this so different? Why did it bother him so much that Tanner no longer trusted him? Heck, he hadn't even known the man two months ago, and he wouldn't have bothered to get to know him under normal circumstances. No, Ezra mused, as a gambler and con man he knew how to lure people into trusting him, and he certainly had tried his best to persuade the six others that he was trustworthy. Unfortunately, his brothers in arms were only too aware of what he was and eyed him suspiciously whenever he did something that was only remotely smelling like a scam. At least, the trusted him to watch their back during a gunfight - and Four Corners had more than its fair share of those. And forced to spend time together, the others had one by one caved in, allowed themselves to fall into the trap of friendship with the smart cardsharp. So, everything had worked according to plan, hadn't it? There was nothing that tied him to Four Corners. The pardon Judge Travis had written was safely tucked away and there sure were richer fishing grounds than this dustbowl. This town had nothing that was worthwhile enough to bother staying. Ezra sighed. Really nothing?

Was this just a con, like he had successfully completed so many in his life? No. It had become more, much more. He had no clue how or when it had happened, but there was that part of him that had fallen for the easy camaraderie, the knowledge that these men knew what he was and still bothered enough to befriend him. It had struck a chord deep inside his heart and soul, vibrated through him with a warmth that had the reassuring feeling of home... Ezra quickly cut off the train of thought. This was insane. He should have never allowed himself to stay.

Vin's mood hadn't improved much in the past two days. He continued to ignore or evade Standish, unless he was forced to work with the gambler. In those few hours, his disgust became obvious for everyone. The animosities between him and Ezra were beginning to wear off at the rest of the small group.

Questions were asked and colorful tales were told, rumors circled faster than a bullet and the tension grew constantly. And Ezra began to put some more distance between him and the others with every hour that passed. The slick gambler either spent his time at his usual table playing poker or sitting on the sidewalk in front of the sheriff's office, shuffling his deck of cards rentlessly and clearly miles away with his thoughts.

'Maybe he really regrets what he did,' Tanner wondered, but dismissed the idea the very moment. Ezra was a con man and he would knew how to turn any given situation to his favor. The man was not to be trusted. It was sad, though. Vin had really believed for a while that the Southerner would fit in with the rest of the group. The tracker leaned against the pole of the sidewalk, stared at the people strolling by and hoped that this day would be over soon. By tomorrow, he'd be out of town and on his way to the Seminole Village, checking if everything was okay there. But most of all he would be able to escape this situation, cope with his anger towards Standish and figure out what to do.

The sound of hooves in full gallop snagged through the peaceful afternoon with the force of a thunderstorm, breaking up the flocks of people as everyone tried to get out of the way of the armed riders who had just one goal: the bank safe. Or rather, it's contents. Vin sighed. This was the third bank robbery in two weeks; one should think that the news by now had spread that seven hired guns protected the city. The rowdy group of gangsters hadn't gone unnoticed by his fellow peacekeepers, neither.

By the time the shooting began, Vin and Ezra had almost made it to the scene of crime. The bandits had barricaded themselves in the bank, Chris and Buck had taken their position along with the others and the bullets burst through the air in search for a target.

"Vin!" Larabee hollered, the quickly noted him to get himself into a position where the sharp shooter could take down the bad guys.

The ex bounty hunter nodded briefly, searched for the best angle to get to the situation under control and was about to cross the open space between the barrels he had found protection behind and the house on which he wanted to position himself when he heard Chris yell: "Ezra, cover him!"

Tanner hesitated in mid-step, for the tiniest fraction of a second glanced over at Ezra, their eyes locked briefly and Vin wondered if he should trust the gambler to watch his back. As quick as the instant had come, it also passed again. And not a moment too late! Tanner jumped the few steps to the other side when a round of bullets dug themselves right in front of his boots. "Damn!"

Ezra had noticed Vin's sudden uncertainty, recognized the familiar expression of distrust immediately. 'Oh please no, not now.' He ignored the cold chill that crept up his spine, ignored the sudden fear that flared when the dirt sprayed up in front of Tanner. Rapidly, he shot into the direction from where the fire originated and hoped that Vin would use his chance.

Vin breathed heavily, glad that Standish had kept the guy busy who had used him for target practice. Smoothly, he made his way up to the roof and aimed carefully.

"Mr. Tanner, may I have a word with you?" Ezra quietly said an hour after the last of the wanna-be bank robbers had been put behind bar and life in the small frontier town began to return to normal.

Vin's eyes narrowed, but finally he nodded. "What ya want?"

"Would you prefer if I moved on to the next town?" Standish felt his heart pounding up to his throat. What the heck was going on with him? Since when did he care what others wanted? 'Always look out for number one.' He told himself that it was in his own best interest, that leaving would be the only reasonable thing to do. If Vin didn't even trust him in a gun fight... The risk would be too great that one of them would get hurt. Still, he dreaded to hear the verdict from the tracker.

Vin ran a hand through his hair and was about to say yes when another part of him stepped up in protest, releasing a flood of uneasy emotions. He studied Ezra's face closely, saw the poker face hiding what was really going on in the Southerner. But Ezra's eyes betrayed him, Vin knew how to read them. Or at least, he thought he knew what was going on in the con man. He sighed. "Tell me one good reason why I should still trust you, Ezra."

Ezra blinked and swallowed hard. What could he say? That something like in Whitewater wouldn't happen again, that he'd become an honorable person? He couldn't promise that, not even if his life depended on it. Well, of course he would promise anything to anyone, but keeping his word was written in another book. He had to take care of himself, because no one else would do it for him, and things like friendship didn't mean a lot in the world of Ezra Standish. Or should he tell Vin that he would do anything to get back in time and stop himself? Though that came close to the truth, Ezra didn't really feel sorry for pulling the scam, he just wished that Vin hadn't been detected by the scorned citizens. What was there he could say?

The Texan watched Ezra fighting for an answer, knew that the con man couldn't deliver any valid reason. "Thought as much."

So this was it? Standish suppressed the urge to scream loud, kept himself from plain begging and restrained the need to curl up in a corner and cry his heart out. Appearances are everything, he reminded himself. Damn, why did this hurt so much? It wasn't supposed to bother him, he was a professional, no ties, no responsibilities, no looking back. No heart and no soul. He had stabbed his heart and sold his soul a long time ago, surrendered them to greed and wealth. Nothing should matter but his own well being and the money he could make. But his heart ached and his soul screamed in silent agony over what was happening, and he had no idea on how to silence them. Ezra stood straight, shoulders squared. "I understand."

Vin didn't really want Ezra to leave, but the man needed to learn that friendship and loyalty were earned and how fragile those valuable items were. Nothing that Vin would throw away for money. But maybe Ezra had already made his choices a long time ago, knew what was worth more to him. How else could he explain the ease with which Standish seemingly had thrown away the precious, unique chance he had been offered? It made feel Tanner sad, because he liked the obstinate gambler. "That's all?"

"Indeed, Mr. Tanner.." Ezra made his last attempt to put things right between him and Vin. He didn't know why he still tried, knew that it was close to impossible to regain trust once it was lost. "I know I previously expressed my apologies for all the inconveniences you had to endure because of me..."

The tracker watched Standish closely, realized that this was no game and - for what it was worth now - the gambler was fighting to keep his composure. Ezra meant what he said. Vin's heart softened and he wanted tell the Southerner that everything was forgiven and forgotten. But it wasn't that simple, too deep was the wound that Ezra's betrayal had slain, too long had Vin allowed it to fester. Now it poisoned his thoughts and feelings, kept him from seeing the truth. This realization came so suddenly that it topped Tanner out of his stoic rejection. "Ya just can't do anything the easy way, can ya?"

Ezra sucked in the air quickly and paled, not sure about how to reply on this. All that he could think of was the threat that Vin had voiced on their way back to Four Corners. Was the Texan's disgust about him so big that he wanted Ezra to leave the very moment or otherwise would use force if he didn't comply? "I'll leave at dawn."

The gambler tipped the rim of his head and turned on his heels, out of Vin's sight before Tanner could react.

Continue