| Buck juggled the plain brown grocery bag from one arm to the other as he grabbed the leather strap and pulled the metal grate of the elevator closed. Turning he jabbed the3rd floor button and leaned against the dingy wall, raising an eyebrow in concern as the lights flashed off for a millisecond and then flickered dimly before returning to their full strength. �Damn thing, it�s a death trap,� he muttered to himself over the loud racket as the elevator began to scrape its way upward. He wondered if Chris had ever considered getting someone over here to fix it, but figured Larabee actually appreciated all the noise the ancient thing made�it let him know company was coming. Buck�s grip on the bag tightened momentarily as the lights flashed again. One thing he was not looking forward to was being stuck in a pitch-black rickety box�at least not without a lady to comfort. He knew at least that the others would come looking for him. It was a Friday night and the team was gathering at Larabee�s for food and drink since�one, he had the biggest place, and two�he had the fully stocked bar. Buck knew he was running late. JD had wanted to get over here early for some reason so Buck had driven on his own. He�d stopped on the way for chips and when he�d hit the freezer aisle on a whim to pick up some of those Pillsbury Grands biscuits to go with Josiah�s chili�he�d run into Sheila Franklin. �Hmmm Sheila.� Buck chuckled to himself as he imitated Homer Simpson. Tall, willowy and full of sharp-witted humor, Sheila was something else. Barring any last minute flight assignments, Buck was looking forward to the date they�d set for Wednesday night. The elevator jolted to a halt finally and Buck shook his head as he reached for the strap to open the grate. The thick metal door slid open to reveal a different world. The brightly lit loft was warm and welcoming. Vin, Nathan and Ezra were gathered around the pool table, Ezra gesturing with a cue as he indicated what his next shot would be. Chris and Josiah stood just at the edge of the kitchen island, drinks in hand as they watched JD scurry to and fro as if he belonged near the stove. �You guys gone crazy on me? Letting the kid cook?� Buck grinned as he dropped the bag of snacks on the counter and dug into it for the biscuits. He tried to identify the smell that wafted through the place but couldn�t quite place it. �Didn�t I tell you what happened when he tried to make toasted cheese at our place? Manager had to call out the fire department.� �He did not!� JD waved a spaghetti sauce covered spoon at him, oblivious to the fact that the red sauce was flying everywhere. �Hey, watch that.� Buck ducked behind the bag and laughed as Chris shook his head and wiped a spot of sauce from his black t-shirt. �I brought biscuits,� he handed the three cans of dough to Josiah. �Thought they�d go well with your chili�that we obviously aren�t having.� �Change is good for you, Bucklin,� Vin smacked him on he shoulder as he came up and reached into the bag for a package of chips. �Besides, if JD screws this up we�ll just order pizza.� �I�m not gonna screw anything up.� JD almost stomped his foot in protest. �Found this recipe in one of Casey�s magazines and it looked real easy.� He finished just as the buzzer on the stove went off. Buck scanned the cluttered counter top, the empty cans of sauce and ricotta cheese containers caught his eye and he frowned. JD was pulling a foil-covered pan from the oven and reaching for a second. Quirking and eyebrow at Chris, Buck scratched his mustache. �He made casserole?� he asked incredulously�hoping. �Not quite,� JD answered proudly. �Feast your eyes on this.� He gestured toward the pan, having pealed back the foil. The smell was intense now and Buck knew immediately what it was. The mozzarella topped pasta dish seemed to taunt him as his stomach turned of its own accord. �JD, that smells great.� Josiah moved closer to the oven to get a better look. �I haven�t had lasagna in I don�t know how long.� �Well, grab a plate.� JD gestured to the stack of plates on the island. �There�s salad there, and I�ll get those biscuits in the oven in a sec.� Everyone seemed to be in motion around him, but Buck felt frozen. The lasagna taking him about 25 years into his past and invoking memories he would have preferred left alone. �The sight of a domesticated JD sending you into shock, Mr. Wilmington?� Ezra asked, reaching around him for a fork and spoon. The plate he held in his refined hand steamed and Buck carefully swallowed back his nausea. �Naw.� Buck shook his head. �That ain�t it.� He started to reach for a plate but changed course and headed for the bar. He needed a beer. �Here, Buck,� JD had followed him and was handing him his own rather enormous portion of the dish. �No thanks, kid.� Buck waved the plate away and opened the small fridge beneath the bar, pulling out a beer. JD looked confused. �What�s wrong?� �Just not hungry is all,� Buck lied, praying his stomach wouldn�t growl and betray him. �You think its gonna suck or something?� JD read through the lie anyway. Buck sighed heavily and twisted the cold bottle open with a half furious yank. �No, that�s not it. I just�� He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose before tossing the cap into the trashcan behind the bar. Finally he looked at JD and grinned wryly. �Its not you. I just don�t eat that stuff�ever,� he said the last word with such finality that JD actually took a small step backwards. �Uh, sorry, Buck. I didn�t know you didn�t like it.� JD sounded understanding but looked a little wounded. �No big deal, JD. It�s just a long story.� With that he turned and headed toward the workout equipment. The heavy bag seemed to be calling his name just then. JD watched uncertainly for a minute as Buck walked across the open room and set his beer on the bench near the far wall, picked up a pair of gloves and slid them on his hands. Within seconds the big man was punching at the heavy bag like it was a long lost enemy. Finally Dunne turned and joined the others in the living area, plopping down at the end of one of the large leather couches and jolting Vin almost out of his seat. �Easy, Kid. You about knocked me to the ground there.� Tanner looked at JD and then over his shoulder at Wilmington. �Everything okay?� JD shrugged. �He doesn�t like lasagna I guess.� He sounded confused again. �Well I do.� Nathan grinned and took another big bite. �How�d you make this anyway?� Distractedly JD shrugged. �Wasn�t hard really. Just get the stuff, a couple cans of sauce, a couple things of ricotta, some mozzarella, brown some meat, combine the cheese and just layer everything between lasagna noodles. Cover it and bake for an hour.� He rattled off the instructions as he picked at his own serving. �Well for a kid who can�t make toasted cheese, this is good.� Josiah quipped and the others laughed, slowly drawing JD out of his melancholy. Winded and suddenly exhausted, Buck punched the bag one last time before moving to the bench and sinking down on it. He pulled one glove off with his teeth and once that hand was free he pulled off the other and reached for his beer. �Have a good workout?� Chris asked. He leaned approached casually and sat down on the bench beside Wilmington, opening his own beer as he did. Buck grinned and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. �Hadn�t planned on it,� he admitted. �I�d forgotten you don�t like lasagna or I would have warned the kid.� Chris watched for Buck�s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Growing up, he remembered now that lasagna was the only dish Buck had ever refused to eat. Buck shrugged. �Your Mom sure was cool with it.� He turned the beer bottle in his hand before taking another swig. �She was cool with everything�including my Mom.� �Buck,� Chris started but stopped, not knowing what to say as he remembered some of the taunting and shunning Buck had had to endure as a kid just because of his mother�s questionable profession. �My mom�� Buck�s voice caught and he shook his head, staring off to the side of the room for a minute. �I never told you the reason I don�t eat lasagna.� Chris ignored the abrupt segue. �Mom, you know�what she did for a living.� Buck glanced at Chris, knowing that his friend had always known about his mother. The Larabee�s had been the only family in town that didn�t seem to care how Bonnie Wilmington cared for her son�only that she had. �Before we moved into town, Mom had a �less subtle working environment, shall we say?� He grinned sardonically and took another swig of his now warm beer, bitter memories rising and obscuring the taste. �She got arrested just once, was out the next day but it�d raised flags with social services. They came in one evening and raided the house. I was the only kid there at the time.� He looked down at his hands and then up, focusing on the group in the living room as he talked. He could see JD laughing now, relaxed and at ease thanks to the efforts of the others. �They hauled me away, Chris. Dragged me literally out of her arms. I was screaming bloody murder the whole way and so was she.� He shivered. Chris watched his best friend struggle, knowing that kind of experience had to have been a horror for an 8 year old. �They put me in a foster home, couple of elderly folks fawning over me. They meant well and all but I wanted to be with my mother, you know. Old lady had me help her make lasagna that night. I didn�t want to eat, was sick to my stomach and everything but they had a clean your plate rule there. I sat at that damn table for six hours before I had gagged that one portion of crap down my throat. Didn�t stay down of course and that didn�t go over very well either but that�s another story. Never have been able to eat the stuff since.� They were quiet for a minute, and then the guys on the couches exploded with laughter suddenly, a stark contrast to Buck�s sobering tale. �How�d she get you back?� Chris asked finally. Buck smiled faintly. �One of her regulars was a lawyer. He got me back for her and we moved the next day. Hooked up with you the next week, bet you�re sick of me by now.� He joked, shoving Chris lightly with his elbow. �Hell, yeah.� Chris shoved back with little force. Buck drained the rest of his drink, before leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. �My mother,� his voice fell to a whisper. �She�d have done anything for me. She did everything for me.� He swallowed slowly. �She was a saint, you know.� �I know, Buck.� Chris smiled, remembering the beautiful woman with the soft voice, easy smile and hard life. He could understand completely his friend's reason for hating the one food that reminded him of the time he'd almost lost her too soon. �I know.� |
| The Reason |
| By Debby |
| disclaimer: the Mag 7 characters belong to MGM, Trilogy and Mirisch, No copyright infringement is intended |
| This is in response to the August 2002 Magnificent 7 Challenge, offered by Flavia: Write to me about memories. Memories and cooking. Let the smells of food waft through your fics and bring back memories for the Seven. Any AU allowed, and any food, as long as the recipe is included. |
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