Title: Drabbles--OW
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: OW
Rating/Warnings: Various
Summary: Kathy's collection of OW drabbles posted to DunnesDarlins
Josiah raised his glass. "To another year, John Dunne. May it bring you wisdom and happiness."
Chris smiled ruefully.
"Guess we'd best stop callin' you kid," Vin winked, as they toasted him with another round.
"I decided it ain't so bad bein' called kid," JD mused. "After all, there's Billy the Kid, Rawhide Kid, Outlaw Kid; I could be the Lightnin' Kid."
"�or the inebriated kid," Ezra chuckled under his breath.
Nathan laughed.
"C'mon, stud, let's get you to bed before you fall down," Buck helped JD up.
Later, throwing a comforter over him, Buck whispered, "Happy Birthday, little brother."
JD stood in the back of Josiah's church, watching the handful of people who had straggled in for midnight Mass.
"I'll never know how Josiah talked me into this," he fretted as Buck and Ezra sauntered down the aisle to a pew. Why couldn't he be on a desert isle out of "1001 Arabian Nights" instead of in this icy building?
Josiah signaled to Mrs. Villanova, who began to play "Ave Maria."
As JD's clear, sweet tenor filled the air, his compadres turned to stare at him in wonder. The cold room was transformed into an isle of paradise.
"You tracked down two dead ants?" JD repeated for the third time, giggling at his own joke. "How hard could that be, Vin? I mean, it ain't like they're runnin' away from you. They'd just be lyin' there, with all those little legs up in the air."
"Dead ends, JD, I said dead ends." Turning to Chris, Vin muttered, "Lord, that boy do love to hear himself talk."
"Yep," Chris commiserated.
"What we've got here is failure to communicate," Josiah observed. "Of biblical proportions."
Dumping the rest of his beer over JD's head, Vin said, "Maybe that'll improve your hearing."
"Hey, Ezra, remember when I was playin' roulette at the Ritz and you called me `Judas'?"
"Indeed, son. The memory still causes me unmitigated grief."
"Well, I just wanted you to know that the J in JD don't stand for Judas."
"My dear boy, I was referring to Judas Iscariot."
"You think I'd betray you for 30 pieces of silver?"
Looking like a kicked puppy, JD stared down at his beer.
"Now, wait, JD, I think what we've got here is failure to communicate. I�"
Looking up with a twinkle in his eye, JD said, "It stands for just joshin'."
JD was in trouble, again. Nathan told him it would be at least three months before he got back on a horse after Maddie shot him. But that caution fell on deaf ears and JD had snuck into the livery as soon as he could walk. He hadn't even ridden as far as Vin's wagon before passing out. Coming to, he heard Nathan say, "What we've got here is failure to communicate."
"Don't you worry, Nathan," Buck said through gritted teeth. "He ain't gonna have any trouble understandin' you by the time I get done with him, are you, boy?"
"I'm getting too old for this," JD thought as Ezra left.
Buck, out of town, had charged the gambler with babysitting him.
For the third sleepless night, JD listened to the wind scream like the vengeful ghosts of downed outlaws.
Suddenly the door slammed open and a hulking shadowy figure filled the doorway.
"Damn wind," a voice growled as the shadow stumbled past a terrified JD.
Collapsing into bed as soon as his boots were off, Buck was asleep in moments.
Listening to the reassuring snoring coming from the next bed, JD decided maybe he wasn't too old, just yet.
Ezra snatched the dime novel from JD, replacing it with a slim red volume.
"Hey!" JD cried.
"Son, it's time you read something other than that drivel."
"What's this?" JD asked, piqued at Ezra's comment.
"Chaucer."
"Somebody wrote a book about your horse?"
Tugging at the cuffs of his pique shirt, Ezra sighed. "That is a classic. It contains observations on life, death, love." Sensing JD's hesitancy, he added. "Knights doing bloody battle. Go on, take a peek inside."
His interest peaked, JD flipped through the pages.
"Aw, Ez, it ain't even hardly in English. Give me back `Purgatory's Pistoliers.'"
JD knew the tune �an old Irish lament. But the words were different � they were about his heroes, the Texas Rangers.* He had become enthralled the first time Buck sang it during those long hours they spent escorting the wagon train, and JD made him sing it over and over til he knew the words by heart and everyone else was ready to hang the dirty, rotten scoundrel.
Heading back to town, JD commented, "I'll be glad to get back to Four Corners so we can have a decent meal."
"Not me," Buck sighed. "I'm gonna miss this trail food. I like eating spam a lot."
*"Texas Rangers" on the "Cowboy Songs" cd by Michael Martin Murphy
"Did you just say go to hell? John Dunne, you'd best remember you aren't too big to put over my knee."
Big as Josiah was, JD thought he could take Chris over his knee, but wisely refrained from speaking his thoughts aloud.
"Now, hold on there, Josiah," Buck cut in. "JD didn't mean nuthin' by it. Apologize, boy."
"What? Buck, I ain't gonna apologize."
"JD," Buck said, with a look that told JD he'd better make amends, and quickly.
Resigned, JD mumbled, "Sorry, Josiah."
"It's alright, kid, I probably shouldn't have loosened Milagro's cinch. Need a hand up?" Josiah winked.
It was a rite with Ezra, reading Shakespeare to lull himself to sleep each night.
He was currently chuckling over "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
The playwright must have been inspired by someone like JD to write the character of Puck. "Shrewd and knavish sprite," indeed. Mischievous, misguided and infuriating, funny, charming and forgivable, that was JD. Startled by this introspection, Ezra wondered how a mere lad had gotten past his defenses. For that matter, how and when had the rest of these men become his friends, his family? Ezra didn't know.
Surrendering to Morpheus, he only knew it felt right.
"Ouch! Damn it!"
"What happened, JD?" Buck yelled into the sheriff's office from his post outside.
"Nothin'."
"Don't tell me nothin', boy," Buck warned, heading inside as Chris snickered.
"JD!"
"It's just a scratch."
"I can see the blood drippin' from here. Chris, get Nathan."
"Aw, come on, Buck. I'm not gonna bleed to death from play-... practicin' with my new knife. Don't ruin Nathan's lunch just cause I was bein' stupid."
JD knew he was in trouble when Buck leaned towards him with a sardonic smile, "Fine, let's you and me just have a talk about this later."
The drizzling rain had turned to a downpour when JD decided he'd better rein in at the nearest shelter, a dilapidated shack that looked like it had been built during the reign of King George. Remembering Buck's admonition about a nasty storm coming in, JD realized he would once again have to bear the brunt of teasing when he returned home.
Home. He had spent seventeen years in New York, yet in these few short months Four Corners had become home. Well, maybe not Four Corners so much as anywhere a certain lanky, irritating, self-appointed big brother hung his hat.
"Did I do that?" Chris asked, staring at Buck's black eye as he sat down to breakfast.
"I got between JD and his nightmare."
"Kid packs a pretty good punch," Vin drawled, eyeing the bruise. "Remind me never to wake him."
"Any idea what it was about?" Josiah asked.
"He won't say, but this ain't the first."
"We've all seen things that would give a person bad dreams," Nathan offered.
"I suppose you're right, Nathan," Buck said ruefully, but he knew he'd stay by JD until the boy's demons were vanquished and he felt safe to sleep through the night.
"Ride hard, don't look back," Chris yelled over the thunder.
JD, never one to resist doing exactly what he'd been told not to, looked back, and the sight turned his blood cold. A lone figure sat hunched over a glowing device, bony fingers clacking.
"Noooooooo!" JD screamed as the wind created a vortex around him. As the other six rode on, unaware of his plight, JD knew all was lost, for he had recognized one of Dunne's so-called darlings in the throes of a particularly gruesome storyline. He was to be tortured, abused, and left hanging in a never-to-be-finished WiP.
Babies. JD shook his head. That fool Buck had seen Lucy struggling with her baby and some packages and offered to watch the little one while she finished shopping. Now the rest of the seven were fussing over the infant. Tired of listening to the squalling child, JD muttered, "How can something that little make so much noise?"
"We've often asked ourselves the same question about you, John Dunne," Josiah observed.
Buck chuckled and went back to bouncing and cuddling the delighted baby. Watching him, JD longingly wondered what his childhood would have been like if Buck were his father.
"I do believe that is the most voracious appetite I have ever witnessed," Ezra said in frank amazement at the amount of food being devoured by a large man seated nearby. "He can't be a mere mortal."
"Is he a pig? He sure eats like one," JD observed, slipping another piece of chicken to the stray dog that had placed himself at JD's feet with the unerring instincts of a hungry animal.
"JD, I swear, if you feed one more bite of your dinner to that dog�" Buck threatened.
JD lifted both hands in mock surrender at Buck's exasperated tone.
Buck watched as JD stuffed his saddlebag with various items.
"Boy, where you headed with that?"
"Oh, hey, Buck. I was just goin' over to visit Phyllis. Heard she's about to lose her mind preparing for the gathering. I thought this would make her feel better."
"What is it?"
"Oh, it's uh�nuthin'."
"What is it?"
"Nuthin'."
"WHAT IS IT?"
With a sense of d�j� vu, JD confessed, "It's just some coffee, a few of Mrs. Potter's special cookies, and some whiskey."
"JD, you leave that poor woman alone. She's like to throw somethin' at you if you go botherin' her now."
"She might throw somethin' at you, Buck, but she likes me," JD asserted.
"Fine, well, I'd best go along, see you don't go getting' yourself into trouble again." JD had an idea Buck was worried more about the cookies than Phyllis' aim.
The pair mounted up and headed toward Phyllis' ranch, JD wondering if the poor woman would rather drink the whiskey or just hit Buck over the head with it.
Never again, Ezra thought, surveying the pitiful rag that was once his beloved white silk shirt. Now it looked as if some infant carnivore had cut their teeth on it. What was he thinking, letting that rapscallion borrow his things?
Never again, JD thought. Hoping to impress Casey he thought he cut quite the dashing figure with ruffles at his wrists, cravat and stick pin at his throat. But one look at him and Casey had collapsed into helpless laughter. What was he thinking, dressing like a dandy?
Now Casey wouldn't take him seriously and Ezra wasn't speaking to him.
Had it only been a year? Buck mused, sitting alone on New Year's Eve.
Nearly a year since he had met up with Chris again, and realized his friend might have found an anchor in Vin's quiet soul. A year since he had saddled himself with a youngster hell-bent on becoming the next Chris Larabee who had instead become his little brother. Maybe there was a grand design behind all of them converging on this town but Buck was happy to leave the philosophizing to Josiah. JD bounded up and Buck was no longer alone. He liked that just fine.
"It's beautiful, Vin," JD ran his fingers over the leather cover. "Thank you."
Vin smiled, ducking his head at the awe in JD's eyes.
"That was a real good story you wrote, JD. Bucklin's gonna pop his buttons when he reads it."
"Mary did a nice job setting the type, didn't she?" JD hesitated, "Vin, you don't think it's stupid?"
JD had written his very own dime novel with Buck as the hero. He was going to give it to him for Christmas.
"You gave Bucklin a hero's heart, JD. That ain't stupid," Vin assured him.
"It'll make him proud."
Ezra hated asking for favors. In his quid pro quo world, you never got something without paying dearly for it. Still, he needed a favor.
"JD," he began, wincing inwardly.
"Yeah, Ez?"
"Would you mind taking my shift? Lady Luck would be deeply offended were I to leave her just now."
JD, with no desire to return to the cold jail, answered innocently, "Sure, Ez, if you really think you need Lady Luck with that full house."
As the other players threw down their cards JD caught the gambler reluctantly saluting him.
"Well done, son. Spoken like a true conman."
"Did Chris ever tell you `bout the time he had to tail it out of Purgatorio? That's a funny tale."
Vin's drawl didn't distinguish between tell, tail or tale and it took JD a moment to sort out what his friend was saying.
"JD?"
"Huh? Oh, no."
Now Vin looked confused.
"No, what happened?"
"Well," Vin hesitated, "maybe I should let Chris tell it."
"Tail it where, Vin?"
"Huh?"
"You said Chris should tail it."
"Kid, you ain't makin' no sense."
JD's head hurt as he wondered how many other words the Texan could blur together.
But that's another tale.
Buck couldn't remember the last time he had been so tired. JD's cold was keeping them both up. "Tell you what, Ezra, if that boy coughs again tonight I'm gonna show up to share your featherbed."
"I assure you, Mr. Wilmington, you will find my door secured. Where is Mr. Dunne now?"
"I got him to take a nap on one of the cots in the jail."
"Then may I suggest you spend your evening there as well."
"Hell, Ezra, I got a better idea. How `bout you let JD have your bed and we sleep in the jail?"
"Nathan!"
Between his duties as sheriff and volunteering to take over the livery while Yosemite was away, JD had been averaging four hours sleep a night.
Ezra was therefore surprised when the boy sat down to a late night game. "Deal me in." The gambler watched in astonishment as JD won hand after hand.
"There you are," Buck exclaimed, walking over. "Kid's so tired he don't know what he's doin'," he explained to Ezra. This is the second night I've caught him sleepwalking."
Ezra shuffled the deck as he contemplated how best to employ a sleep-deprived JD in his next scheme.
A shaken Buck was explaining to Nathan, "You know how JD can't sleep unless that closet door is shut. Well, with him bein' on duty the other night, I guess it was left open. I was just falling asleep when the hinges squeaked. I tell you, Nathan, the hair on the back of my neck plumb stood up. Turns out it was that damn cat the boy's been feedin'. Durn thing musta snuck in the closet sometime before I went to bed."
"That when you bumped your head?"
"Yeah, when I fell off the bed."
Nathan's laugh filled the room.
Thinking he had misread it, JD reread the wanted poster. No, he'd read correctly: Buck Wilmington, wanted for mischief and mayhem. He couldn't wait to read the dodger to the boys. They'd ask him to reread it, accuse him of misreading the name. But then they'd tease Buck from now til Christmas. Life was sweet.
"I don't know, Buck, seems kinda mean playing a trick on the boy with that fake dodger."
"I owe him one for pullin' my leg with that Chinese love potion, Josiah. Wait til he comes swaggerin' in lookin' like the cat who ate the cream."
A preacher fighting his inner demons, still able to provide philosophy and comfort.
A healer whose body has been battered but whose soul remains intact.
A leader consumed by revenge and despair, inspiring respect and loyalty.
A loner who finds himself a steadfast defender and protector.
A gambler, accustomed to stacking the deck, now staking everything.
An oversized Peter Pan who takes a lost boy under his wing.
A fledgling looking for adventure and finding a family.
A band of seven lost and wounded souls who start a new journey, transcend themselves, and become magnificent together.
Well, there's something you don't see everyday.
"Well, there's something you don't see everyday."
Once again Vin had summed up a situation in the most succinct way possible.
Buck and JD had ridden out that morning to enjoy a day off, not really intending to get into trouble.
Trying a fancy dismount, JD had caught his foot in the stirrup, twisting his ankle and landing hard on his tailbone. Buck had nearly asphyxiated himself laughing. But it was too painful for JD to ride back, and the ankle prevented him from walking.
Vin was the first to see Buck stagger into town, carrying JD piggyback, leading both horses behind him.
"Not everyday," Chris concurred.
That was embarrassing, JD thought, as he dusted himself off. He'd done that dismount before, and it went smooth as silk. Figures this time he'd make a fool of himself, with no distracting gunfire to draw Buck's attention elsewhere. If the bastard kept laughing like that, he just might die from lack of air and no one would ever hear about what happened.
JD tried limping over to Chance, but the sprained ankle wouldn't bear his weight. He winced as he placed his foot in the stirrup. No way was he going to be able to mount back up.
Buck's convulsive hilarity had subsided to intermittent giggling.
Seeing JD's struggle, he rode over and lifted him into the saddle by the scruff of his coat. JD inhaled sharply as his backside met the saddle seat.
"Somethin' the matter, boy?"
"Buck, I can't sit down."
This sent Buck into another paroxysm of laughter.
"Glad you think it's so funny."
Wiping his eyes, Buck sized up the situation. "Well, lookee here, hand me Chance's reins and you can just kinda lay over the saddle on your stomach."
"Buck, I ain't ridin' into town bent over Chance."
"Well, we can't stay here. I ain't missin' a night with Colleen because you had to show off. Hell, JD, didn't we just have that talk `bout you actin' stupid?"
Giving Buck a look that would have killed a more perceptive man, JD handed him the reins and swung one leg over Chance's back, easing himself onto his stomach. Listening to Buck snicker, JD plotted his slow and painful death.
About a mile from town, JD called to Buck to stop. As soon as Chance came to a halt, he slid off, gingerly landing on his good leg. "Whaddaya doin', JD?"
"Buck, you know I'll never hear the end of it if I go in like that. It's bad enough you saw what happened and can't wait to tell everyone." A twinkle came into Buck's eye even as he held up his hand to promise he would do no such thing.
JD just rolled his eyes and tried to limp forward.
His ankle gave and he fell to the ground.
"Dammit, boy, you're as stubborn as a whole mule train. Well, fine, there's more than one way to skin a cat."
Buck helped JD to his feet. He grabbed Chance's reins, then crouched in front of JD with his back towards the boy. "Hop on."
"What?!" JD's voice rose an octave.
"You heard me. Git on."
"Buck, I -"
"JD, we ain't gonna argue about this. Climb on or I'll sling you back up on Chance and tie you to him."
JD could feel the heat crawling up his face and knew he was turning as red as the dogwood blooms. Why did life insist on embarrassing him every single day? How did he ever get saddled with Buck? A reluctant grin came over as his face as he realized that, for the moment, Buck would literally be saddled with him. Shaking his head, he put his arms around Buck's neck and felt himself being lifted off the ground.
Buck started off for town with a light step, unhampered by JD's weight on his back or the two horses he led. His mind was already in the saloon, in sweet anticipation of the night to come. Besides, he'd come to think of JD as a little brother, and giving him a piggyback ride didn't seem so out of the ordinary. Granted, JD was about 10 years too old to enjoy it, but better late than never.
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