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Title: The Telegram
Fandom: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Pairings: Ezra Standish/Li Pong
Spoilers: None


Generally, Ezra played his cards pretty close to his chest to begin with, but whatever the telegrams to San Francisco were about, he was even tighter-lipped than usual. J.D. and Buck just asked him outright more than once, with no results, and then fussed over it incessantly, but Inez told Vin over a plate of tortillas and beans one morning that he was negotiating with some Chinaman about something.

Vin liked watching her strong, capable hands turned to a simple task, flattening the maize mixture between her palms, rolling them further with practiced care, and deftly tending them on the skillet. Like all great artists, she made breakfast look like simplicity itself.

Vin, being Vin, shrugged and told her if’n Ezra wanted to negotiate with a Chinaman, there was plenty closer than needing telegrams all the way to San Francisco. But on his next ride out, instead of heading to Chris’ place for a few days, he followed the railroad’s tracks out to the current camp, looking for a few old friends.

So, he wasn’t too terribly surprised a few months later when Ezra got a telegram that turned him out even more impeccably than usual one afternoon, and made his way over to the coach the second the horses stopped, to hand down a petite figure in simple dress, with a long black braid that hung straight down her back. She was followed by an elderly woman whose carriage and demeanor, for all she was Chinese, proclaimed her chaperone status for all to see. She bowed to Ezra, who barely emerged from his distraction to be polite back.

Coachman peeled off a couple bags and a trunk; Vin claimed ‘em rather than wait for Ezra to notice. The rest of the Seven just goggled, but Vin couldn’t help smiling as the pair just stood there looking in each other’s faces like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Chris was no slouch, he had things figured out pretty quick. “Ezra. Who’s your friend?” He was smiling just a tiny bit, Vin could tell from the sound of his voice.

Ezra turned and tucked the little Chinese girl’s arm into his, walked the little coterie forward together to the saloon, Chris at the top of the steps like the family patriarch. He looked at his companion, then at the others distributed about and curious.

“Miss Li, this is Mr. Larabee. Mr. Larabee, this is Miss Li Pong, . . . and the future Mrs. Standish.” And then he waited for Chris’s approval, though he’d never admit it.

Chris pulled both sides of his mouth up into the real thing and didn’t make him wait: “Congratulations, Ezra. Miss Li, ma’am.” And touched a finger to his hat to the bride to be, and again separately to the duenna.

And it was settled, then and there. Ezra, of all people, was gettin’ married.

There was a whole lot of grinning and backslapping after that, and Josiah asking how they wanted the ceremony, Chinese style or Christian, and Ezra saying he didn’t much care but Josiah could take it up with his fiancee, wasn’t that a lovely word, Mr. Sanchez, fiancee?, and Miss Li was terribly embarrassed at all the attention. Her cheeks flushed on her porcelain features but her eyes were bright and full of only one man.

Heck, Vin knew it really was true love once Ezra announced that the first round of drinks would be on the house.
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