So, here's my contribution for April Fool's Day. (Cin's Challenge: any AU, write a short humorous fic where someone pulls a prank on one of the guys or all of them. It doesn't have to be one of the Seven.)
Warning: A little adult language and a spew warning - consumption of food and drinks is not recommended unless you're really good at not snorting drinks or choking on food.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine, work of fiction based on the show, no copyright infringement intended.
ATF UNIVERSE
They returned from lunch in a good mood, all seven of the men enjoying the rare day in the office instead of being shot at or on mind-numbing surveillance. When they returned, each went their separate ways.
Disaster struck within moments of leaving the restroom. Ezra P. Standish, undercover agent extraordinaire, exited the men's room on his floor, intent on returning to his desk. He walked into a plethora of invisible scotch tape, coating his face with its sticky substance.
Temporarily blinded, Ezra walked right into a wall, bouncing off it to hit the next large object in his path -- Josiah.
"What's the matter?" Josiah righted the smaller man, not seeing the reason for his distress.
"MPHAF!"
"What was that?" He turned Ezra to face him.
"MPHAF!"
"Oh. I see." Grabbing a handful, he pulled it off Ezra's mouth, taking a chunk of hair with it as the long strips in his grip ripped free of the chestnut bouffant.
"Yee-ow!" Standish, not accustomed to having his hair jerked out by the roots along with a swollen lip, yelped without his customary verbose bluster. "Perwhaps wou couwd be a wittle more gentwle."
"What?"
"I swaid, newer mind. Twanks." Ezra returned to the bathroom to examine the damage.
Chuckling to himself, Josiah entered their offices, the tape with the hair still on his fingers. "Well done, Brother Vin."
"What?"
Josiah waved the tape. "The tape at the door. Ezra's face." He continued laughing.
"I didn't do anythin', Josiah." Vin straightened in his seat, putting his boots on the floor. "That looks like hair."
"It is. Apparently it came out when I pulled the tape off Ezra's mouth."
"Ezra okay?"
"Lip's a little swollen, and his hair's missing a few pieces, but he'll be fine. You didn't do it?"
"Nope." Vin shook his head. "Figured I'd be blamed for everything today, so I did it all last night after midnight at Larabee's."
"Someone's playing an April Fool's joke on us, then. Ezra's the first victim." Josiah rubbed his chin. "This could be fun."
Chris Larabee's office door opened, and the leader of Team Seven walked out. Or attempted to. His boot heel caught on a tiny piece of paper stretched across the base of his door, and it sent the heel straight for the sky, the rest of the body following the momentum. Larabee landed on his back, hard, half his body lying back in his office. "Son of a bitch."
Buck leaned down to look at the thin paper stretching from one end of the doorjamb to the other. "No Dicks Past This Point."
"Whoever did this will be dickless soon." Chris dragged himself to a sitting position, accepting his oldest friend's hand up.
"Wonder who could have done it." Buck mused aloud, obviously going through the people that could do practical jokes on the team and expect to continue breathing.
"Tanner, this wasn't you, right?" Chris rubbed his tailbone, bumped hard in the fall where his holstered gun landed against it.
"Nope. Already said I did mine ta y'all last night." Vin shook his head. "Reckon I have some ideas, but I ain't saying."
"I have one too." Chris grabbed the nearest telephone and dialed. "You're funny, Harper, real funny." He paused. "No, I didn't set your microwave to blow up the next time you used it. I don't like your tone. No, you listen to me." He turned to face them, a stunned expression on his face. "She hung up on me. She thinks one of us rigged her microwave to blow up her macaroni and cheese, spraying it all over her office."
The men burst into laughter.
"Woman that riled ain't gonna be responsible for this." Vin looked at Chris. "Mary?"
"I doubt it." Chris called her anyway, trapped into a ten-minute conversation, a dinner date next week, and eventually finding out she had nothing to do with the situation.
Ezra walked in, his hair fixed, his glare daring anyone to mention the pouty lip thing he had going because it wasn't intentional. The green-eyed laser beams finally settled on a target . . .Tanner.
"Wasn't me, Ez. But ya look okay if ya like the collagen lip thing."
"Swhut wup, Miwster Twanner." Ezra walked to his desk, filled out a leave slip, and handed it to Chris. "I'm leawing."
Chris could not contain the laughter. He smirked, accepting the request for leave and signing it. "Bye, Elmer Fudd."
The gesture he received in return was unworthy of both Ezra and Elmer, showing the high level of agitation. Standish left for the day, traumatized by his encounter with the tape.
Nathan walked in, glancing back at the departing Standish. "What happened to him?"
That set off the others into laughter.
"I'll wait." Nathan sat down right on a whoopee cushion, giving the loudest, crudest sound imaginable. "What the hell?" He shot out of the chair. "VIN!"
"Ain't me, Nate." Vin shook his head.
Reaching down, Nathan grabbed the offending toy, setting it on his desk. When he settled in his chair, he scooted forward. The chair screeched across the mat, making a horrible scraping noise. "Okay, that's funny. Ha ha." He got up, examined his chair. He found the wheels missing. "Where's my wheels?"
"In the garage," JD absently replied.
"I mean my chair wheels." Nathan searched his desk, coming up with them under his desk legs. Shaking his head, he fixed his desk and chair. "If it's not Vin, and none of you are responsible, who is it?"
"Don't know. Harper's microwave exploded on her, so she's a bit pissed." Buck grinned. "Hung up on Chris."
"That made your day."
"Falling on my ass made my day," Chris said wryly. "On a note that said 'No Dicks Past This Point'."
Nathan laughed. "Well, they're creative, whoever they are."
"Brother Ezra walked into a face full of tape, and when I removed it, he lost some hair." Josiah shrugged.
"No wonder his lip looks like it went through treatment."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The long, loud wailing scream came through the speakers of every computer in the room. All the men jumped, each reaching for their weapon and frantically searching for the threat.
"BWWWWWAAAAHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAA. GOTCHA!"
The speakers fell silent.
"Son of a bitch!" Chris felt better after yelling; he bumped the quickly developing bruise on his butt from his fall when he grabbed his gun.
Buck took a few deep breaths before sitting down in his chair. It promptly fell apart, dumping him on his back and the wheels scattering everywhere. "Ow."
"Don't even look this way, Bucklin."
"I know, Junior. I know." Sighing, Buck rolled onto the plastic mat beneath his chair to get his feet under him, feeling them slide. He realized -- too late -- that the mat was greased, and he slid along the flat surface to the end. "Damn it."
"Gee, Buck, you look like a slicked pig." JD started laughing. He laughed until the blue screen of death appeared on his computer, taking away everything on his screen. "What? No, don't do this to me."
"What's the matter, Kid? Someone mess with your precious toy?" Buck finally gained his feet, cussing under his breath as his boot heels slid.
"Someone gave me aoh, whew. That was close."
"Let me guess." Josiah crossed his arms. "Someone fed you something that made you think you lost your information."
"Yeah." JD grabbed some disks from his desk, using the CD re-write to back up everything on his drive. Just in case.
Josiah sighed. He went to reach into his drawer for something, and the handle broke in his hand. "What?"
"Problem?" Chris looked over at him.
"Broke my drawer." He reached down to open the drawer from the bottom, and it sailed across the room. "What the...?"
"Looks like someone doesn't know his own strength." Buck chuckled at the bewildered expression on Josiah's face.
"Funny, Brother. Very funny." Josiah twisted his chair to go forward for his desk contents, and the chair leaned forward, dumping him on the floor.
They all burst into laughter.
"Okay, Vin, it's your turn." They waited for something to happen to the sharpshooter, and nothing did. None of the drawers malfunctioned, the chair remained stable. He shrugged a little nervously as the looks from the others became suspicious again. "Guess they forgot about me. Anyone want some coffee?"
"Nope." The collective response came as all sets of eyes turned to watch the number one suspect in most practical jokes around the office walk away. The suspicion of his culpability returned to the forefront as it appeared he was still unscathed by the current jokester. Their accusatory glares soon changed.
As they watched him move off into the kitchen, they barely contained their laughter. Someone had attached a note to his chair, probably in heat sensitive ink. It soaked into the butt of his jeans, and it read: 'kiss my ass'.
"Vin?" Chris called.
"Yeah?"
"Can you get me some overtime slips from the girls while you're up?"
"Sure."
Vin left their offices, walking to the Administrative Assistants' area, and he didn't return for a few minutes. When he did, he slammed the door, locked it, and put his back to it, holding it closed. "Why didn't y'all tell me I had 'kiss my ass' written on my butt?"
"Figured you might like it." Chris ducked into his office before the Texas Tornado reached him.
"Now, Junior, you don't want to disappoint all these lovely women," Buck teased as he unlocked the door.
A new voice stopped Vin in his tracks. "What's going on in here?"
Slowly, the men from Team Seven turned to face AD Travis in the doorway.
"And where's Standish?"
Chris came out of his office. "Went home sick."
"I see. Is there a reason for the tales of much merriment coming from this office? Could it be you're not working, as usual?" The smile on the former Judge's face as he looked at each man in turn could only be described as evil.
"No, sir. We're working. We just returned from lunch." Chris defended his team. It wouldn't do for Travis to hear of another round of pranks. The man was rather put out to say the least with the last war the team instigated.
"Approximately thirty minutes ago."
"And we were just getting moving on those reports. Right, boys?"
"That's fine Chris. I'm sure your work can wait a few more minutes."
"Sir?" Now Larabee was truly concerned over the director's behavior. Especially when the smile was changing. Right now, the older man looked . . . smug?
"Yes, I think you can wait until after."
"Meaning?" Chris appeared confused.
"After you congratulate me on pulling one off on Team Seven." Chuckling at the stunned faces around him, Travis turned toward the door, offering a final statement as he left. "April Fool's, gentlemen."
"Son of a bitch!"
"I heard that, Chris, and it's not polite to swear at your boss."
THE END