Title: Drabbles--A.T.F.
Author: Kathy
Email: [email protected]
Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and its characters are the property
of MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, and the Mirisch Corporation.
Category:
Universe: A.T.F.
Rating/Warnings: Various
Summary: Kathy's collection of A.T.F. drabbles posted to DunnesDarlins
JD wandered down an aisle at Kitchen Treasures. Gourmet cookware always reminded him of Ezra and left him feeling flushed thinking of all the naughty things they could do with cr�me brulee.
Not that I'll ever get the chance, JD thought to himself. Maybe if he and Ezra were alone on a desert isle, the worldly man would notice him, but til then he would have to worship from afar. JD sighed sharply in frustration.
"Having trouble deciding on which wisk to purchase?" a voice drawled nearby.
"Ez! Uh, yeah, I don't have a clue."
"By all means, allow me."
During the weekend at Chris' ranch, Buck had indulged in teasing JD over his latest crush. Deciding it was payback time, JD dipped a nearby bucket in the watering trough and threw the cold water at Buck's back. The lucky bastard ducked down into the beer cooler just as Chris came sauntering over. The water hit Chris full in the face as a horrified JD gaped at his dripping boss. It didn't help that Buck was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up straight.
"JD," Chris bit out in a deathly quiet voice. "You just volunteered to muck out the stalls."
Ezra read the drabble and groaned, "I suppose you think that was terribly clever."
"Yep, and I told it great. You're just jealous. Your `dears' go on about how handsome you are, the lonely man behind the poker face, but nobody calls you adorable."
"They think I'm handsome?" Ezra preened. Regaining his composure, he continued, "I'll have you know I have been called many things,"
"I'm sure," JD muttered.
"THINGS," Ezra continued, fixing the boy with his iciest stare, "much more complimentary than `adorable', which is a rather juvenile reference, even for someone of your tender years."
"Whatever," JD replied.
Ezra came upon JD staring at the breakroom microwave in puzzlement.
"Mr. Dunne, whatever are you doing?"
"Oh, hey, Ez. Did you know you can never nuke something for 100 seconds?" "What on earth are you talkin' about?"
"If you enter 100 it changes it to one minute every time."
"Well, just cook it for one minute and 40 seconds."
"But that's 140. I'm sayin' you can't ever enter 100 and expect to cook somethin' for 100 seconds."
"Good Lord, how long have you been pondering this great mystery?"
"About 100 seconds, I reckon," Vin cut in with a wink.
"JD, your dome light's on."
Buck was calling from the parking lot.
"Ya know, Buck, I never had this problem with my bike," JD said, coming out the exit.
Ever since he had bullied JD into buying a car, the kid had given him grief about the advantages of his bike over four wheels.
JD gave Buck a thumbs up when the car started.
Buck nodded. "I just didn't wanna drive all the way back in the middle of something. Your cell is charged, ain't it?"
"Geez, Buck," JD rolled his eyes, making a mental note to check it later.
"JD, I'd agree with you if you were right, but I don't see it."
"Oh, come on, Nathan, that creepy doctor looks just like you."
"You sayin' I'm creepy?"
The boys were spending Friday night sitting around Chris' den watching Battlestar Galactica.
"He's right, brother," Josiah rumbled, "just listen to that voice."
Nathan shook his head. "You've both had too much tequila."
"I don't know, boys," Chris pulled his attention away from Starbuck.
"Shave Nathan's head and he might look a little like the doc, but remember that Xindi's voice on Enterprise last week? Now he sounded just like Nathan."
A bloodcurdling scream filled the offices of the ATF. JD, wide-eyed and gun drawn, started down the hall. Suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder. Swallowing his own scream, he spun around, "Geez, Buck, you tryin' to give me a heart attack? What was that? The hair on the back of my neck is standin' straight up."
Grabbing JD's gun, Buck whispered, "Phyllis is doing the end of month closing. I suggest you stay down at this end of the hall til she's done."
JD nodded. He'd rather face Chris in one of his black moods than Phyllis balancing the accounts.
JD stopped in the breakroom doorway, his way barred by blankets and chair cushions.
"Somebody going camping?" he asked.
"Opening weekend!" Phyllis exclaimed, a fevered glint in her eye. "I'm off to Daytona to cheer on Little E."
"Little E?" JD's brows knit together.
"Dale Earnhardt, Jr," the ATF's financial advisor answered with an exasperated sigh.
"You're into racing?" JD squeaked.
"You ever seen her drive?" Vin teased. "But the real money's on Tony Stewart."
Ezra's ears perked up. "Would you two care to place a wager on the outcome?"
"I have a very bad feeling about this," JD mumbled.
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