Different Recollections

by Lady CAT (Kelly)

Author's Note: Is there anything that brings back memories like a smell or taste? The real, strong memories of our past, not tied to any one day or event. Baking, cooking, stealing the neighbor's apples . . . The challenge I offer you, honored gentlemen and women, is this; Write to me about memories. Memories and cooking. Let the smells of food waft through your fics (Challenger makes elaborate flourish;) and bring back memories for the Seven. Any AU allowed, and any food, as long as the recipe is included. -grin- Lets have some mouthwatering fics!

I know Apple pie is the most common and most popular pie, but having relatives that come from the South Pecan is my favorite. I regret to say I've never made it myself, but if you have never tried it you are missing out on a very sugary part of heaven. The recipe may be found at the end.

My thanks to my beta mmrrph/libby. She helped with not only the grammar and stuff but gave me some ideas. Thanks so much Libby!

"You never stop playing with those cards do you?" Nathan asked as the two peacemakers leisurely made their way to Eagle Bend.

"I am not `playing,' as you so eloquently put it Mr. Jackson." Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"Than what do you call it?"

"Like all men with a particular skill I must practice to keep mine sharp." Nathan scoffed at the word `skill' and just rolled his eyes. A grin flashed over Ezra's features as he turned back to his cards. The irritated look on the healer's face made going on this menial task worth it, almost. Ezra would still rather have been sitting in the saloon engaged in a game of chance than traveling on the dusty trail to help guard some miscreants.

Eight members of a gang had been captured trying to rob the bank, and Eagle Bend's sheriff had requested two peacekeepers from Four Corners to help him guard the brood until trial. Ezra and Nathan had been chosen to fulfill his request. The gambler just hoped that he could find some time to peruse the saloon so that the trip would not be a complete financial waste.

The two men arrived in Eagle Bend without incident or an argument, which would have surprised the five men back at home. Yet both men had come to a quiet understanding. Their relationship was still perhaps the shakiest of the group, but the rift was lessening by degrees. Both men had to work hard at their friendship but it was forming, slowly, but forming none the less.

As they dismounted in front of the sheriff's office, Nathan caught Ezra glancing longingly at the saloon.

"Work first Ez," Nathan warned, though there was a hint of good humor in his voice. Standish caught it, but sighed in a dramatic way.

"If you insist Mr. Jackson. I would not want to keep the miscreants waiting." Nathan chuckled under his breath as they entered the jailhouse.

At six o'clock two men came to relieve Nathan and Ezra of guard duty.

"Join me for dinner Mr. Jackson?" Ezra asked as they left the jail.

"That depends, you payin'?" The gambler raised an eyebrow, giving the taller man a `you must be kidding' look.

"Guess not," he said, chuckling softly under his breath. "Don't want to eat alone," he admitted.

"Then shall we?" Ezra said, holding an arm out towards the saloon. Nathan nodded and the two headed to the saloon.

"Perhaps I could interest you in a game of chance over dinner, Mr. Jackson." Nathan raised a hand to stop his friend from going any further.

"Sorry Ez, I don't have much money and I'd like to keep what I have." Ezra grinned slyly at the mention of his penchant for winning.

The two men entered the saloon and sat at a table near the back. The saloon was still quite empty, most people choosing to eat at the restaurant, the night crowd having not arrived yet. A waitress came around and took their orders: beef, potatoes, and biscuits. She returned quickly with two beers, placing them in front of the two men. They nodded their thanks to the young woman, who smiled shyly at the handsome gambler.

After she left the friends sipped their beer in silence for a few moments, enjoying the taste and the relative quiet after a day of listening to hollow threats and annoying wining from the idiots they were guarding.

As they enjoyed their drinks they became aware of the smells drifting from the kitchen. The smells of homemade cooking enveloped the two hungry men, both closing their eyes and taking in deep breaths of the lovely aromas. After a moment a distinctive smell made it way through the others. Both men opened their eyes, focusing on the smell that was so familiar to them, but evaded their grasp.

"Is that. . ." Nathan uttered quietly, his mind a million miles away.

"Pecan pie," Ezra finished in a whisper. He closed his eyes, a smile spreading across his face at the memories that the smell of that sugary concoction recalled. Nathan on the other hand stared at nothing, the simple smell bringing to life old memories he had hoped he had buried forever.

Maryland 1849

"Miss Shannon! Miss Shannon!" Ezra called as he ran down to the kitchen of his Aunt's large home. His mother had just `dumped' him once more at another relative's house, but this was one place he loved being dumped. It had nothing to do with his Aunt, who was an older detached woman who disliked children, and everything to do with a particular servant.

"Miss Shannon!" he called again.

"What's all this racket? You would think the sky was falling," came a heavy Irish brogue from the kitchen. In a moment a woman in her late twenties with dark chocolate eyes and lightly freckled cheeks appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. At the sight of Ezra running towards her, her face lit up.

"Is that my Ezra?! Come here and give me a hug my boy-o!" she ordered. The boy happily complied, throwing himself into the woman's arms. Like a protective mother Shannon hugged the eight year old fiercely, kissing him on the cheek.

"Now let me have a look at yeah," she said as they parted. Ezra stepped back and stood proudly as the Irish woman examined him.

"Aye, you're more handsome than ever, and much too tall. Someday you'll be taller than me."

"How have you been Miss Shannon?" he asked politely. With her hands on her hips the servant laughed.

"And so polite," she commented.

"Mother said that being a gentleman is always important." Shannon bit her lip from saying anything against the blonde woman who she had never liked.

"Well she is right, but," she bent down to his level, "you needn't be so polite with me. For we are old friends you and I." The boy's face broke into a wide grin, throwing his arms around her neck. He knew his mother would scold him for showing such emotion, and to a servant no less, but he could not help it. Shannon was the only one who had ever called him her friend. Even though he loved his mother, he sometimes wished the Irish woman with the sparkling eyes were his mother instead.

"I missed you Shannon," he admitted as he pulled away. She smiled, rubbing his cheek with her thumb.

"I missed you too Ezra." She knew Maude had taught the boy to never show his feelings, to have a wall around his heart. But Shannon kept that wall at bay. Ezra had been spending the summers at his Aunt Rebecca's since he was four, spending almost every moment with the Irishwoman. So Ezra had grown up acting two ways. When he was with Maude he behaved as she wanted him to, staying out of the way, learning his lessons with his cards, and how to read people. When he was with Shannon he was himself, a happy, caring boy who loved to learn. Shannon knew the way he acted with Maude was just a front. He wanted so badly for his mother to like him that he was willing to do anything to earn her acceptance and love. It made Shannon angry to think that the selfish woman was crushing the boy's spirit, and she knew that she was the only one keeping it alive.

"What are you doing Shannon?" he asked as she stood up.

"I'm cooking dinner for your Aunt. It will be awhile, so you might as well go play. . ."

"Please, can I stay with you Shannon?" he pleaded. "I promise I won't be any trouble." She smiled.

"Of course you can darlin'." She held out her hand to him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And then after dinner perhaps we could we could make. . ."

"Pecan pie!" She smiled widely at the ecstatic little boy.

"Aye, pecan pie! Come along then. I don't have all bloody day."

With a huge grin on his face Ezra took the offered hand and followed his only friend into the kitchen.

That evening Ezra and Shannon baked a pecan pie. Ezra always looked forward to `Pecan Pie Night', because it was their time. It was a few hours every week when Ezra had the undivided attention of someone who was actually interested in him and who cared about him. It was their own little ritual: on the first night Ezra arrived and once a week through out the summer they baked a pecan pie together. While it was baking Ezra would practice his studies, read to Shannon, or tell her of the places he had visited. Shannon had a gift for story telling, and she would excite him with tales of Ireland. She regaled Ezra with every true and fantastic legend of her homeland she knew. When she ran out of these, she would tell him anecdotes other immigrants had shared with her on the passage from Europe. Sometimes they just talked. This surrogate mother was the only one Ezra knew who listened to him, actually listened.

Shannon too looked forward to their `pie time.' It was time to spend with her Ezra, who she had come to love like a son. She had once been engaged, but her intended had died on the passage to America and Shannon had never married, and thus never had any children of her own. Ezra reminded her of her intended, Joseph, for his sweet heart; and of herself for his passion and penchant for risk taking. If Ezra did something he threw all of himself into it, and Shannon respected that.

When he had visited his aunt for the first time – when he was but four – Aunt Rebecca had scolded him the first moment he had arrived. Ezra, being a little child with a sensitive nature, and who only wanted to please everyone, had taken it quite to heart and ran off. Shannon had discovered him in a linen closest when she had been putting away sheets. The boy had squealed in fright and promised he would be good. Shannon's heart had melted at the sight of the frightened green eyes. No child should look so frightened. She had shocked him by saying,

"Of course you'll be good me boy-o. What else would I expect from such a charming lad?" The fact that no one had ever had such blind faith in him before added with the unique accent and cheery face had persuaded Ezra to jump into her arms. From then on, when Ezra was at his Aunt's, the two were inseparable. Ezra was like Shannon's little brother, son and nephew rolled up into one. Shannon had discovered that though Ezra had a sweet heart, when someone who was utterly defenseless was threatened he would jump to their rescue, no matter the risk to himself. Shannon knew he would grow up to be a great man, if only his mother would let him alone.

That evening they had a great pecan pie night. Shannon repeated the story of the claddaugh, Ezra's favorite. He loved the tale of the man captured by pirates who finally returned to his ladylove with a special ring he had made her. Then Ezra read to her from a book of poems Maude had bought them. The boy loved the written word and though Shannon could not read herself, she enjoyed hearing the lyrical prose that reminded her of home.

They ate their pie over conversation, simply talking about anything and everything. Their pie finished, Shannon led him up to his room, tucking him in as she recited the Irish blessing she recited every night.

"These things I warmly wish for you: Someone to love, some work for your hands to do, a bit o' sun, a bit o' cheer, and a guardian angel always near." She kissed him good night and moved to the door.

"Goodnight Ezra," she whispered.

"Goodnight Shannon," he whispered back. When she was gone Ezra smiled as he snuggled sleepily into his soft bed: it had been another perfect pecan pie evening.

Alabama 1849

Nathan walked towards the slave quarters, exhausted from a day of chopping wood. The mistress was holding a huge ball and the kitchen had been working all day to feed the hundreds of people who were now dancing in the grand ballroom. Nathan and two other boys had been told to keep firewood in constant supply for the cooks, and later for the fireplaces in the ballroom. Every muscle in Nathan's back screamed, and he could barely keep his eyes open. Though his stomach was growling all he wanted to do was to crawl into bed and sleep for a century.

As he approached the dogwood tress near the edge of the grounds between the master's home and the slave quarters, he heard laughter and the scent of pie drifted towards him. Nathan froze. Maybe they had not noticed him, maybe he could back peddle and go to his quarters the long way.

"Hey Darkie!" Or maybe not. Nathan cringed. Not again. Taking a deep breath he steeled up all his courage. He would not give them the satisfaction of seeing the fear he felt in his heart.

"Hey Darkie!" came the call once more. From the shadows appeared a tall white boy several years older than Nathan. Behind him where about six other boys, ages eight to about thirteen. They were all holding pie tins with varying amounts of pie left in them. The ringleader, Thomas Gaines, held a half empty tin of pecan pie. Nathan bit his lip. Please not again.

"What are you doing Darkie?"

"Headin' home," he said with eyes on the ground, hoping they would let him go this time.

"What did you say Darkie!?" Thomas bellowed. Nathan raised his head.

"I said I'm headin' home." Thomas's face twisted with sick pleasure.

"You forgot something." Without a second's warning Gaines leveled a sharp kick at the younger boy. Nathan did not have a chance to move away, and the kick caught him in the ribs. He grunted and doubled over. "What do you say? What do you say?" he repeated, kicking Nathan twice more. Nathan hated to give in, but he knew that his resisting would mean problems for his father. Thomas came from an influential family, and if they told his father that Nathan had misbehaved, then Mr. Gaines could easily influence his owner as to their treatment. Nathan did not worry for himself but for his father, who had enough problems without him adding to it.

"Headin' home Sir," he grunted. A satisfied grin passed over Thomas's face.

"Good boy," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What do you say guys, should we reward this darkie for his good behavior?" The other boys grinned, nodding enthusiastically. Nathan cringed inwardly, not again.

"Then let's give his reward." Quickly two of the bigger boys pushed Nathan onto his back, leaning heavily on his arms. Instead of trying to break free Nathan squirmed weakly, knowing that there was nothing he could do to forestall the inevitable. Smiling maliciously Gaines grabbed a fistful of pecan pie and straddled the downed Nathan, who knew better than to close his mouth.

"How `bout some pie Darkie?" Without waiting for a reply the boy jammed the pie down Nathan's throat. Nathan nearly choked on the huge amount of pie that was thrust into his mouth. He gagged on the pie violently and, since he was on his back, gravity was working against him. He gagged on the pie violently, but gravity worked against him in his position of being forced to lie against the hard earth. The pie felt like globs of mud going down his throat, filling up his air passages.

As Nathan struggled to breathe the others simply laughed and called out insults as they left on to go in search of more prey. Nathan was aware of none of it as he turned over and hacked up the pie he had almost choked on. When his throat was clear he took in huge gulps of air as tears streamed down his face. He took a deep breath and sat up, clutching his side at the pain that flared through him. Nathan sat there clutching his midsection, rocking back and forth for an hour, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, thinking all the while how much he hated pecan pie.

Eagle Bend

"Here you are gentlemen." The arrival of their waitress jerked both men back to the present.

"Thank you my dear," Ezra responded after a moment. The waitress smiled shyly and placed the plates in front of them before curtseying and slipping back to the kitchen.

Nathan turned to his dinner, thankful to have something to distract him from his memories. Unfortunately, the smell of pecan pie was so strong that the memories could not be ignored, and Nathan simply pushed the food around his plate gloomily.

Ezra, on the other hand, seemed to be completely rejuvenated by the scent. All the irritation from the day's traveling and dull guard duty had disappeared, replaced by a new sparkle and spring to his motions. His spirits had been raised dramatically, his eyes shining with some long suppressed memory.

"That pecan pie smells absolutely delicious, doesn't it Mr. Jackson?" Through his pleasure Ezra noticed his companion's sudden change of mood. "Mr. Jackson, is something wrong?" Nathan looked up sharply – he had almost forgotten Ezra was there.

"No, why would you think that?" Ezra raised a doubting eyebrow at his friend.

"It may have something to do with the potato mountain you are creating on your plate." Nathan looked down at his plate in confusion and, low and behold discovered a mountain of mashed potatoes he had absently created. He blushed guiltily as he looked back up at Ezra.

"I'm fine," he assured Ezra, pushing the memories to the back of his mind. He did not want to let on that anything was wrong. It was a memory he was still ashamed of and didn't want to share with anyone, especially not Ezra. Though they had made leaps and bounds in their friendship he did not think the man would understand the power the childhood memory still had over him.

Ezra eyed his friend suspiciously. He knew the man was lying, but he could not force him to divulge what was wrong. Admittingly the pleasure brought on by the memory of pie night diverted him from scrutinizing Nathan's unhappiness, so he wasn't certain at what point the other man's mood had altered.

"You seem to have brightened up," Nathan noted, hoping to redirect attention away from himself. Though Ezra was usually very reluctant to share information about his personal life, the sudden joy brought on by his remembrances led him to want to indulge his memories, to relive them and thus share them. He had so few happy memories of his childhood that he felt excited about sharing the happiest with someone. Ezra should have felt ashamed about wanting to indulge himself in silly memories, but one thought of Shannon banished the thoughts from his head.

Ezra smiled and looked down at his hands, an image of Shannon rolling pie dough flashing through his mind. "Yes, well, pecan pie holds a certain place in my memory." He looked up to see if Nathan was interested in what he was saying, and to his surprise he saw that the healer was regarding him with pointed attentiveness.

Nathan wanted to divert his mind from his own memories, and listening to another's story was the easiest way he could think of. But that was not the only reason he was listening closely to Ezra. The man never shared personal information freely, and there was something about the faraway expression on the gambler's face that made Nathan perk up and take notice.

With eyes staring into the past Ezra explained his fond memories of Shannon and of their connection with pecan pie. Nathan listened with rapt attention, trying to imagine Ezra as a little boy following a servant around everywhere. Usually Jackson looked for the angle Ezra was playing, but he could tell by the simple tone in his voice that his love for Shannon was completely genuine, and he was not telling the story for any reason other than that he felt like sharing her with someone.

When he was finished the table fell silent for several moments, each man lost in his own thoughts.

Even though Nathan often left people's past to themselves he could not help but ask, "What happened to her?" Ezra's eyes, which till that moment had been sparkling, grew sad and contemplative. When he spoke his voice was soft and laced with regret and anger.

"I do not know. The summer I was fourteen I went back to my Aunt's house as I did every year. I went straight to the kitchen to find Shannon, but she was not there. I found one of the other servants and asked them where Miss Shannon was. I was told that she had been discharged and forced to leave in search of new employment. It did not make any sense. Shannon had always been my Aunt's most capable and reliable servant. When I asked my aunt she said that Shannon had grown restless and simply wanted to move on. I knew that was a lie; Shannon had grown accustomed to the place, it had become her home. And I knew she would never leave me without a reason. One of the servants confirmed this when he told me that she was sorry and that she had not wanted to leave, but had been forced to post haste. That very evening I left and headed out for myself. Every time I went into a hotel or saloon I looked for her among the servants but I never saw her again. Yet," he looked up at Nathan and smiled, the happiness returning to his eyes, "pecan pie still holds a place amongst my happiest of memories."

Nathan knew that he was being allowed a very rare look into the man's heart, a place kept shrouded from everyone. The man was taking a great risk sharing his past, especially to him. He could easily make fun of such sentimental ramblings over pie and a friendly servant, but Nathan knew that those memories meant a lot to the gambler. When Nathan had first met Ezra, he had seen him as a man who had had everything he could ever want, but still craved more. He had never considered that Ezra had been deprived much of the basic love and stability that all children deserved. Nathan realized that they had more in common than he had ever realized. Growing up they had both craved the kindness and love other children seemed to be given. The only difference was his family could not be there all the time to give him what he needed, where as Ez's family refused to give it to him.

It was this realization of what a great gift he was being given that led Nathan to say what he did next. "'Friad my memories of pecan pie ain't that happy." Ezra waited patiently for Nathan to continue. In quiet tones Nathan told Ezra about the bullies who had plagued him throughout his youth. Ezra listened quietly, thinking that the two men had more in common than either one of them had ever realized. He too had been accosted and bullied as a child. At least in the summers he had Shannon to protect him, to comfort him, to listen to his heartache. Nathan on the other hand had no one to tell, no one to protect him. Though he had his father and friends, he could not share his burden with them without fear of endangering them. And when he finally got older and strong enough so that he could protect himself, Nathan could not fight back under penalty of violence to his family or friends. After Shannon Ezra did not have that burden on his shoulders, had nothing to lose but himself.

The gambler had seen the horrible abuses against people of color, and had always been angered by the harming of innocents, but his mother had taught him to look out for number one, so he had taught himself to look the other way. After Shannon had disappeared Ezra had begun to follow his mother's teachings more than ever before. She was now the only influence in his life and, though he knew Shannon had not wanted to leave him, he thought his mother offered the only way to live in the world. He knew, or thought he knew, that she was right- if you got involved or let someone in, you only got hurt. Thus he had closed himself off from feeling anything for abused slaves, at least outwardly.

Now he was faced head-on with the reality of the abuse he had ignored for years. The story helped him to understand a little more about Nathan's resentment against his background and his selfish behavior. Nathan was not simply upset over the physical abuse he had suffered, but the humiliation of being the butt of a cruel childhood joke. Ezra made a mental note to not accuse the man for being self- righteous the next time he judged Standish's sometimes less than selfless behavior.

When Nathan finished his story Ezra felt that comfortable enough with their shared understanding that he asked, "Did the `boys' ever pay for their acts?" Nathan shook his head.

"No. It kept right on going until Thomas Gaines turned 16." Ezra could not help himself.

"What happened then?" His normally large vocabulary seemed out of place here.

A humorless smile crossed Nathan's face as he shook his head in disbelief.

"He left for West Point." This produced a snort from the usually polite gambler. Nathan chuckled ruefully at the southerner's reaction.

"My feelin' exactly. The only good thing about it was without their leader the other boys left me alone."

"That is usually the way with bullies," Ezra agreed with disgust, taking a sip of his beer.

Both men slipped into silence for a moment, thinking back on what they had revealed and what had been revealed to them in turn. They both knew it was probably quite silly for two grown men who were usually very private about their pasts to discuss childhood experiences connected to pie. But each man respected the importance, impact and significance of the memories of the other peacekeeper. Neither man had ever shared these memories with anyone, nor thought they ever would. Each felt that no one would understand, but that night both had found what they had been looking for: an ear to listen and a heart to understand what their memory meant to them. Though their memories were quite different, both men thought people would laugh at them. Ezra for being so sentimental over a servant, and Nathan for still being affected by childhood bullying. Yet neither man had laughed, and the simple act of sharing a bit of their past they had come to an understanding of each other. They realized that they were both human, quite an amazing discovery for the two very different men.

"We best eat our meal Ez, `fore it goes to waste," Nathan pointed out after a moment.

"You are quite right Mr. Jackson, we would hate to squander our hard earned money by letting this fine food become inedible." Nathan raised an eyebrow at the Southerner.

"Our hard earned money? Unless I've hit my head I'm pretty sure I paid for dinner." Ezra smiled sheepishly.

"Ah yes – I wanted to thank you for that gentlemanly gesture, and was hoping I could purchase dessert as a form of compensation."

"Be great Ez," Nathan answered simply. "I'd like a slice of apple."

"Would it offend you greatly Mr. Jackson if I partake in pecan?" Nathan looked up, slightly taken off guard by Ezra's display of concern. Though he loved pecan pie, Ezra was still concerned for his feelings and would not order the offending pastry if he did not want him to. After a moment Nathan smiled and shook his head.

"Naw, you go ahead." Ezra smiled and nodded his gratitude. He had asked because he knew how powerful smell could be and did not want to be the cause of any more discomfort for his friend, but was relieved he'd be able to indulge in the tasty treat that had hearkened him back to happier times.

"My dear," Ezra called to the waitress who came bustling over.

"Yes Sir?"

"My friend and I would each like a piece of pie please, apple for the gentleman and pecan for myself." She nodded and hurried off to get their order. As she turned to enter the kitchen she could not help but catch the sight of the two odd companions, smiling and tipping their glasses to one another, as if a great treaty had been signed. She just shrugged to herself and continued into the kitchen in retrieval of their order.

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