Duck Duck Goose By Brate and Heidi ATF Universe Chris Larabee sighed and rubbed his temples. "They aren't going to like it, Judge." He sat in the office of his boss, former judge and current Assistant Director Orin Travis, working through the possibilities while trying to make his point. "I don't give a hang whether or not they like it. Your team has been on duty for over three months and each one of you needs a break." The older man stared down his most productive team leader. He saw the lines of fatigue in the handsome face and the perpetual frown starting to cut ruts around his mouth. They needed this, he decided, whether any of them wanted to admit it or not. "You and the rest of the misfits will be going on vacation over the Fourth and that's an order. Non-negotiable, no argument, you are going for a four day weekend." Larabee sighed and reflected briefly on the irony of being ordered to go on vacation. Hell, most people wanted get away from work and his team acted skittish at the thought. "Yes, sir. I'll see that they don't work." Maybe he could just ban them from the property. He needed to block JD's computer access or shut down the modem here to keep the computer whiz from working. What was Casey doing this weekend? Josiah, well, Chris thought of using a few threats to keep the man from overdoing it at the shelters. For Nathan, he thought he could call Rain and see what she could arrange. Ezra might protest loudly but he knew the Southerner would find something to do if not sleep all the time. Buck...hmm...Chris almost smiled. He considered arranging the date between the Wilson twins and Buck that the girls wanted. Vin...maybe he and Vin could go camping or riding before a cookout for everyone at his ranch on the last day. The judge shot down those thoughts before they even processed. "Not good enough. I'm sending over a package with details of your itinerary." Larabee could not hide his surprise; "You don't trust us?" He was a grown man; he did not need anyone planning his vacations for him. His indignation must have shown on his face. Travis nearly smiled at the current disgruntled expression and fired back with the truth. "Not a bit. I know all of them will be doing work on the side until they are back in the office. This way, the vacation will be enforced." Chris swallowed his comment as he heard the truth behind the judge's words; wasn't he just planning ways to distract his own men? "And Chris," the AD continued, waiting for the man to meet his eyes. He gave him the sternest look, the one that used to make defendants cringe. His voice grew more gravelly as he emphasized the words. "If I get a phone call from an emergency room, law enforcement officer, park ranger, or any civilian at all, you and your team will be stuck doing community cleanup of my choice for the next three months. I believe the city's planning urban reclamation in some of the drug areas. Have a good vacation. Dismissed." ~**~~**~~**~ "I can't believe he's making us go!" Buck griped. He thought this would be the perfect weekend to nag Chris into giving him the telephone number of those twins. "He's trying to be nice." The smirk said Larabee felt it was anything but. "Every time we go on vacation -- or for that matter, anywhere -- someone ends up in the hospital," commented the youngest. He remembered the last trip to the emergency room and shuddered. He hated wearing that sling for the sprained shoulder when he got tackled too hard during an impromptu football match. Of course, JD knew teasing Buck about seeing a gray hair earned him that hit. "That will not happen this time, ladies." Chris told them of Travis' threat and added his own personal terrorism to his team in case they ended up with community service. Not that any of them minded helping out, but three months of free labor -- especially considering the Judge would find the dirtiest, hardest jobs for them -- was not a pleasant prospect. "I abhor menial labor," drawled the Southerner. He pictured himself wearing a bright orange vest, carrying a long stick, and cleaning up after less than neat citizens, especially the field where they traditionally held the fireworks that took three days to make presentable again. The visual made him shudder. "Then don't get hurt," replied Larabee in a matter-of-fact tone. He held his hands out in a 'isn't that obvious' gesture. "We just watch each other's backs and make sure nothing goes wrong while trying to relax." "Easier said than done." A number of grumbles and disbelieving snorts filled the air. Make sure nothing goes wrong? Hell, half of them thought they held family ties to Murphy of Murphy's Law, and the other half claimed they were direct descendants. "This just came for ya," reported the sharpshooter, dropping a package in front of his leader. He looked around at his teammates' morose expressions. "Who died?" "We're going on vacation," lamented Nathan. He both hated and loved taking vacations with his friends. He liked the companionship, but could do without the emergency room visits. He had never met such injury prone people who could proudly tell you exactly where each scar came from. Pour some alcohol in them and they started a 'mine's worse than yours' competition. "Why?" Immediately he asked for an explanation; he wondered who they ticked off to be given time off, and if it was disciplinary or not. "'Ours is not to wonder why, ours is but to do or die'," quoted the preacher. He sat there with one leg crossed and a thoughtful look. Maybe he might be able to catch up on his reading during the down time. "Travis' orders," added Nathan. "And if anyone gets hurt and the Judge finds out about it, we are helping the community for the next three months." Vin shrugged, not having a problem with that idea in particular. Meanwhile, Chris opened the package and dumped out the contents. He grabbed the note on top and whistled, "Looks like we're going camping, boys." "Where?" several voices chorused. Larabee read off the paper that he held, "A few hours outside town, in the mountains. Apparently Travis has a cabin for us, all paid for and supplied with food." "Food only?" "This'll require some shopping." "Josiah, you mind if we take your Suburban? You can pick us up at six tomorrow morning starting with Ezra." "Certainly, Brother Chris." He decided to use his lunch break and have his mechanic friend double check the vehicle to make sure there would not be any problems. Ezra scowled, knowing he was being picked up first for spite because, unlike the others, he enjoyed his sleep and they tended to get testy waiting for him. He hid the brightening thought that he could take the shotgun seat and make the others suffer stuffed in the back. ~**~~**~~**~ "There's not enough room for that, Nate." Eyes shot heavenward. "I'm not leaving without it." The brown eyes meant business. "What's the holdup here?" So far, everyone had been ready with minimal fuss and tempers had not started fraying...yet. Nathan was the last group member to be picked up and he had been arguing with Buck for ten minutes while the others made a run to the nearby coffee shop. "Buck here doesn't think I need my trauma box," the healer said, pointing to the large crate he was trying to stick in back on top of the other duffel bags, sports equipment, and supplies. "It is pretty large, Nathan." Chris knew Nathan had a smaller carryon and thought maybe he could convince the healer to bring that. "With this group? It probably won't be big enough." Nathan gave Chris a disgusted look as if he could not believe Larabee even asked. Larabee looked around at his men currently lounging in or around the Suburban sipping coffee. He thought they might actually be the poster children for half the common sense warnings on products. "You're right...it goes." With that, he helped Nathan and Buck make it fit in the back of the Suburban ~**~~**~~**~ "Twenty on Ezra, tomorrow in the arm." "I'll take that bet." About thirty minutes into the ride, once he realized sleep was unattainable, the undercover agent started a betting pool on who was getting hurt, what day, and which part of the body. Perhaps it would pass the time during the appalling drive. Sadly, his arm was cramping from reaching back and snapping his fingers for the money they wagered. "I'll have to go with Vin, Sunday, in his side." "Chris!" The Texan's outrage transmitted into an immediate punch in the arm at the offending bet maker. "Sorry, Cowboy. Gotta play the odds." He grinned unrepentantly at his friend. This was supposed to be a vacation, right? "I'm just hoping I packed enough bandages," muttered Nathan. Buck snorted and sarcastically cracked, "Did you remember the throat lozenges and hangnail clippers too?" "Actually, I did. My luck one of you will have a hangnail that gets infected and we end up in the hospital. Ezra, put me down for anyone with an infected hangnail for ten." ~**~~**~~**~ Vin Tanner sat on the front porch of the cabin watching the rising sun. He was tired. Body tired, mind tired, tired of hearing the carping and harping from the warden for two straight days now, and thought of making a break for it. He heard the words echo in his mind. "Tanner, don't jump off the balcony. JD, stop sliding down the banister. Buck, put Ezra down. Nathan, do you have restraints in that crate? Where's my handcuffs? Who put my underwear in the freezer? Josiah, stop laughing so hard -- you might hurt something. Ezra, damn it, quit betting on how many times the vein throbs in my forehead. Vacation, my butt!" Chris had not even allowed them to shoot the fireworks he and JD had brought. Everyone, especially Chris, was so afraid that one of them would get hurt and end up having to perform cleanup duty for Travis. The rest of the time was spent complaining because they were bored. The sharpshooter was going stir crazy. He needed something to bring everyone out of their funk and let them enjoy their vacation. The problem was for men of action, nothing happened. The board games failed to get them involved, the poker games grew old, and the VCR held no appeal for any of them. They felt stagnated and trapped which shortened tempers. In addition, they lived a fast-paced life and doing nothing suited none of them. Even sitting still their undercover operative moved, his hands constantly shuffling cards, tossing them into things, or walking coins across the backs of his fingers. Vin grinned to himself as inspiration struck; he knew just what to do. Something to stimulate their brains as well as give them the required adrenaline rush. He walked into the cabin, finding everyone but Ezra eating breakfast. Perfect. "I'm going to go hike up the back trail," the longhaired agent announced to his team. "Why don't you wait until I finish and I'll go along?" recommended his best friend. A hike might prove relaxing and give him a break from being the mother hen. "If ya don't mind, reckon I'd go alone. No offense, but y'all are startin' ta bug me." He gave them a smirk to take the bite out of his words. Buck headed off any hard feelings. "That's all right, Junior. We're going to go fishing out at the stream, anyway." He planned on tossing JD in the stream once they caught the first couple fish. Chris looked at his best friend and saw he needed a break. "Sure, just don't be too late." He understood Vin often needed solitude. Vin gave a two-fingered salute. "Reckon I'll be back by mid-afternoon," he told them as he walked out of the cabin. He took his scope out and walked a few hundred yards from the cabin. Now all he had to do was wait. ~**~~**~~**~ "Ez, 'ey Ez. Wake up." Vin checked his watch and saw the time around ten in the morning. The Southerner came to awareness to the sensation of his arm being prodded by a very determined finger. "What do I owe this ungodly awakening to, Mr. Tanner?" he mumbled into his pillow. His head ached and his mouth felt filled with thick felt, not mentioning the sweaters on his teeth. "I need yer help." "Is someone hurt?" Standish was instantly awake, all thoughts of his own discomfort momentarily forgotten. Tanner was not sure if his partner's interest was one of concern for the team's well being, curiosity if he would won the pool, or worry that he would have to perform menial labor. "No one's hurt, but I thought you might like to help with that." Ezra sleepily rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "What on earth are you talking about?" His hand automatically started smoothing his hair down because he knew it jutted out at odd angles when he first woke. It took time and patience to reach his full handsome potential. "Everyone's been so worried that something's gonna happen, I want ta get it over with." "And how will you accomplish this?" "I want ya ta take Josiah's truck into town and stay the night at a hotel." This definitely peaked the gambler's interest. He had not been sleeping well on what he called his 'bed of nails' and a night with room service minus six sounded heavenly. "Precisely what purpose would this serve?" "We'll mess this place up so it looks like you were taken and we'll look fer you." The sharpshooter turned his pleading eyes on the bed-ridden Southerner. "C'mon, it'll be fun." "Possibly for you, but I don't relish getting on Mr. Larabee's bad side again." How on earth could him going missing be fun? "Ya never got off it, Ez. Besides, Buck was the one who replaced yer flask with moonshine." Ezra cringed, remembering the bad taste it had left in his mouth after the healthy swig he took following JD putting extra cayenne pepper in the undercover agent's dinner. "What does that have to do with anything?" "Chris saw him do it." Vin smirked. This told Ezra that Chris deliberately let him drink the moonshine, resulting in his current fuzzyheaded state, and gave him no warning. "Count me in." Ezra quickly packed a few things while Vin began "tossing" the place. The sharpshooter made sure not to damage anything; he did not want Travis after him as well. He just made one hell of a mess. He pulled his teammates clothes out of their bags and turned some of the furniture over. "Help me with yer mattress, Ez." "For goodness sake, why?" "I want ta make it look like they rousted ya. Everyone will believe that the way ya sleep." Both men finished up and looked around. "Not bad," Tanner said, surveying the damage. "Now be back early tomorrow morning. We can't make ya disappear fer too long or else Chris'll have helicopters, dogs, and everything else out looking fer ya." "I'll do my best to return at an indecent hour." "Have fun, Ez." Tanner watched his friend drive away, than went to finish his 'hike'. ~**~~**~~**~ "What the hell?!?" Buck was the first one to return to the cabin. As soon as he saw the mess he whipped his gun out and signaled to his teammates following. They did an armed sweep of the cabin, finding nothing and no one. "Where's Ezra?" asked JD, securing his weapon back in the holster. "Gone. He must've been taken." Josiah looked out the window to the rear of the cabin. "My Suburban's gone," he reported. This thought upset him, but he accepted it reasonably because Ezra was the priority. "Get Search and Rescue on the phone," the leader demanded. "Can't, Chris. No landline and our cell phones are out of range." Nathan replied, having already checked that when they arrived...just in case. Vin watched their return from a ways away, and waited for the perfect time to make his entrance. "What's going on?" he demanded, slouching in the doorway, working hard at keeping a straight face. "Look around. This place's been trashed and Ezra's missing." "Truck's gone," Josiah said. "Cell phones don't work," JD added. Vin pretended to think. "Well, it's about six miles or so over the mountains to the nearest person. Road is a lot easier to travel on, and we can track which way they took Josiah's vehicle." He offered them a plan of action, something for them to do instead of sit around and feel helpless. "Sounds good," Chris agreed. "Okay, listen up. Everyone grab some clothes and sleeping bags for the hike; we'll sleep outdoors tonight. We're leaving immediately. Nathan, bring some supplies, just in case." Nathan had to find the most important things in the crate to take and distributed it among them accordingly. Buck and JD managed not to argue while they prepared themselves, and Josiah silently lamented the loss of his truck. Chris just looked pissed. Vin smirked but quickly ducked his head. All right, we got some life in these guys. He packed his own gear and waited outside, impatient for his friends to get moving. Finally, a few minutes later, they started down the long drive leading back to the dirt track euphemistically called a road. The driveway itself comprised of five rugged miles of terrain, with the town an additional five away. By the time night fell, they had made six miles on the tough terrain and found a place to camp. Between the potholes, ruts and rocks threatening to trip them, Nathan loudly called for a stop when they reached a modest clearing and they trudged off the track into the field. Vin set up a fire, and bedrolls quickly rolled out. At least they stopped sniping at each other, the sharpshooter thought to himself, as Josiah passed out food and water bottles. The water bottles did not last long and Buck pulled out the moonshine bottle that he'd replaced Ezra's expensive brandy with. "This will wet the whistle," he said, proceeding to take a long drink. Josiah snapped his fingers and nearly snatched the bottle, pulling a goodly amount in before giving it over to Nathan. Nathan's modest sip earned him a snort from Buck and a sad headshake from Josiah. Sighing, the medic downed a larger portion and handed off the bottle to JD. The youngest tipped it back and kept drinking until Buck snatched it away from him. "Kid, you want to sleep, not snore," Buck told him. "We've got a few more miles to cover tomorrow and we ain't stopping for you to hurl." "I can handle my liquor, Buck," JD wheezed out as the moonshine kicked in and tore up his system from his stomach to his throat. Buck snorted. "Yeah, right." The bottle was yanked from his grasp by the blond grump and upended. When Chris stopped to breathe, fearless fingers ripped it away from him to get his own shot before it disappeared. Vin hid his grin when he finished and Chris took it back muttering, "I'm lucky I'm not completely bald or gray-haired because of this bunch." The bottle went for another pass around the circle before they pronounced it gone. Josiah shrugged and pulled out a whiskey bottle from his personal stash he brought along with him. He uncapped it and started it around the circle after dosing himself heavily. "Who do you think took him?" Everyone groaned and then focused on the topic they avoided dwelling on all day. "Somethin's not right," said Vin, starting them out on the wrong path. "House was tossed, but they waited 'til all of us left. Nothin' broke, nothin' damaged. Someone who might have just wanted Ez and trashed it ta distract from that." Slow nods started around the campfire. Buck had obtained pure honeydew vine water from a local on their way up and it quickly worked its magic on all six of them. The whiskey was not helping as it made rounds. Vin was starting to make sense. "Who's just been released?" asked Buck. "I know we've pissed off a lot of people but who's the latest?" "No one," Chris responded. He kept up with all the release dates of their arrestees, especially those with grudges against the team. "Why take my truck?" Josiah mused aloud. The bottle found its way back to him and he finished it off. "Other than to strand us at the cabin?" Chris dug out his own bottle and uncapped it, taking a swig before sending it around the circle again. Vin kept his intake to a minimum knowing the amount of fun he would have in the morning waking them. "You said it, Josiah," Larabee replied. "Strand us, get us out of the way, more time to have Standish, that southern pain-in-the-butt." "Pard, he may be a pain-in-the-butt, but he's our pain-in-the-butt," Buck told him. JD nodded sagely. Vin nearly chuckled. As the bottle continued its path, the ideas grew more absurd and more outrageous. He listened as the ideas ranged from terrorists to people offended by Ezra's wardrobe sense to people who hate his poker ability and finally aliens. By now, intoxication claimed all but one. As they struggled into the sleeping bags, Vin realized that they camped near a pond. "Quack." Five heads immediately shot up with guns drawn. "Quack, quack." "Shut the hell up! We're trying to sleep over here!" called Buck. "Quack." The looks of annoyance on their faces caused Vin to clench his fist in the sleeping bag material and squeeze so he would not laugh. Ducks. "Quack yourself!" the rogue yelled back. "Quack, quack, quack, quack." Duck, Duck, GOOSE! The children's games popped into his mind the ducks were chasing the goose and the idea nearly sent him into hysterics. He hoped Ez remembered to bring breakfast for them and kept the truck running when they saw him. ~**~~**~~**~ The next morning, the bright rays of the sun reached the red eyes of the hung-over. Accompanied by a rousing pan crashing and boot to the side for a wakeup, the remains of Team Seven crawled from their bedrolls to stare blearily at each other and motivate themselves to find the nearest tree. "Come on, ya slugs. Get yer lazy asses movin', we're burnin' daylight." "Junior," hissed Buck. "Yeah, Bucklin?" he answered in a cheerful, loud tone. "SHUT UP!" "OW!" Chris reached over and punched Buck for being so ignorantly loud this early in the morning only to receive a few head whacks back from his friend. "Brothers, quiet yourselves," rumbled Josiah, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses and a clear threat in his voice. "Silence is golden." "If y'all don't stuff it, I'll find the biggest needle and jab it where it counts the next time you need an IV," Nathan groused. JD groaned and ran for the trees, the combination of moonshine and whiskey ripping up his stomach. Vin finally managed getting them on their feet, packed up, and on their way. Once on the 'road', they walked with the grace of dizzy boxers, nearly falling over and into the ruts populating the track. They suffered in silence as the morning birds serenaded them and nearly got shot for their efforts. The only thing saving the birds was the fact the men knew if they shot their guns it would be much too loud. Just as they reached the bend in the road, the Suburban barreled toward them. It stopped long enough for Ezra to alight, perfectly made up, designer sunglasses in place, and set a tray of extra large coffees and bagels on the side of the road. Vin raced forward to meet him and the Southerner, with a big smirk, handed the sharpshooter a lighter. The rest just stared while their dehydrated brains attempted higher functions and assimilating information. It resembled something like this: (a) Ezra's okay (b) that's the truck (c) he brought coffee....and got stuck at (c) he brought coffee. They shuffled to the coffee while still staring at Ezra like he had two heads. With perverse glee, Vin grabbed the series of firecrackers and lit them along with a few roman candles before he and Ezra leapt into the Suburban and took off for the cabin. The howls of the hungover echoed though the mountains and drowned out the noisemakers. "Well done, pard," Vin complimented the Southerner. "Dreadful. I wanted to meet you closer to the cabin," he replied. "Where shall we hide ourselves when they arrive?" "Hell, Ez, we're gonna have to face them sometimes. Might as well get it over with and pick them up." Ezra gave him a look of disbelief. "You may have a death wish, Mr. Tanner, but I prefer living, thank you very much. We will wait for them at the cabin." That said, he turned down the drive and started to the cabin. "We can at least take them from the end of the drive." The Southerner sighed. Maybe that would save their lives that the others did not have to walk the five miles up the drive. "All right." So they waited. A short time later the five remaining members of Team Seven appeared and sprinted to the truck. Fortunately for the two inside, they'd locked the doors. "We ain't opening the doors until y'all calm down," Vin told them. "We could've just kept going." Chris took a deep breath. Then another. And a third. "Tanner, Standish, you will drive us to the cabin and they will not find your bodies if you don't have a good explanation." Reluctantly they opened the doors and the five men piled in. There was absolute silence on the drive back to the cabin and Vin exchanged a look with Ezra. How much trouble were they in? Ezra parked the vehicle and the men started walking to the cabin. They'd gone only a few steps when Nathan and JD grabbed and held Ezra, while Josiah snatched Vin. Larabee marched toward the struggling Texan and clocked him across the jaw, while Buck gave the same treatment to the Southerner. The two pranksters were sprawled on the ground when the rest began smiling. "Who had Ez and Vin in the jaw?" asked JD. Chris extended his hand to help his best friend off the ground, and Josiah yanked Standish up. Vin and Ezra watched the men warily as they were patted, none too lightly, on the back. "Thanks," Larabee told the two men. "What for?" Vin questioned. "The adventure." "You knew?!" asked the undercover agent, aghast. Buck started chuckling, "JD came back for beer and heard you two idiots planning." "So why'd y'all go along with it?" Nathan shrugged. "We were bored. And a bit curious, we weren't sure how far you'd take it." "If you enjoyed yourselves, what was the purpose of the violence against ourselves?" questioned Ezra. "To make sure you morons never pull something like that again. A friend in trouble is nothing to play with." Chris glared at the two offenders, who responded by ducking their heads down. "And," the leader continued, "because of the fireworks, you two will be our servants. You will cook and serve us dinner tonight, and clean up all the mess you made." Ezra started to object but was silenced by Tanner's elbow in his side. "Yes, sir," Vin said as he pulled his partner into the cabin. "What do you mean by manhandling me, Mr. Tanner?" He brushed his hands down his suit and turned to see the sharpshooter watching out the front window at their friends laughing and chortling in the front, exchanging money. "I jest didn't want any more trouble, Ez. Besides," the Texan said with a smirk, "they never told us what they wanted to eat, did they?" The Southerner smiled as he realized what fun could still be had. "Any of those earthworms left from fishing, Mr. Tanner?" The End feedback to Heidi: ch1diva@lycos.com and Brate: brate01@hotmail.com |
