Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings. I don't own the characters. Only using them for a short time and will return them in relatively the same shape as when borrowed.
The ATF realm was originally created by Mog. My thanks for allowing me to dabble in your sand box.
Notes: Sorry folks, this is another 'moment in time' piece. I had this flash into my head and thought I would share it with you. For those of you wanting something more substantive, I do have an actual "more-than-three-pages-and-something-with-a-plot-and-everything" story being beta-ed as I write this. <g> Hopefully it won't be too much longer before I can share it.
Until then, enjoy and I wish each of you peace and joy in the coming year.
Watching the gaiety that was surrounding him, Chris Larabee took a sip of his drink and sighed. It had been a long evening. It was a combination Christmas party and charity auction for the Denver Rape Crisis Center. Virtually the who's who of Denver was at the white tie affair. He swore Mary Travis knew every one of them. He, on the other hand, while familiar with their names, knew very few.
Still the evening hadn't been a total wash. Thanks to a last minute bid, he had snagged a signed Thomas Mangelson print that Mary absolutely adored. It was of a Bengal tiger in the wild called Bad Boy of the Forest. When she had seen it, she had laughed and said it reminded her of him - playful and gorgeous but ready to take down available prey at a moments notice. Since he hadn't finished shopping for her, it seemed like a good gift. It helped, too, that half of the rather large amount of money he had just plunked down was a tax write off.
Now, standing in the quietest corner he could find in the gallery, Chris was waiting for Mary. He could periodically see her shimmering emerald green floor length gown as she moved through the milling crowd. Occasionally, he could distinguish her laughter over the symphony of conversations and the mellow strings of the quartet playing in the balcony.
There was no rush. She could take all the time she needed. It was her evening and his pleasure was seeing her enjoy herself.
"Quite a crowd, isn't it?"
The question drew Chris' attention to the man who had been standing beside him for a few minutes. Nodding in response, he studied the man. He was older, early sixties. His face had a few creases but his eyes were clear of the guilt and deception Chris was so used to seeing when he looked in people's eyes. Although the cut of his tuxedo and diamond cufflinks indicated he was financially well off, his hands spoke of years of labor. Chris knew he had seen his face someplace, but couldn't remember where at the moment.
"My wife is somewhere out there," the man continued, gesturing toward the crowded room as he spoke. "She loves these things. Think she likes them just to catch up on the latest gossip," he said conspiratorially to Chris.
Chuckling at the amusement in the older man's face, Chris held out his hand. "Chris," he offered.
"Malcolm," the older gentlemen replied, shaking the hand held out to him. Turning back to face the crowd, he added, "Oh, there she is, talking to Mary Travis." Sighing, he added, "It's good to see Mary out again. It was such a shame, what happened and all."
"Oh? Something happen to her?" Chris responded, curious as to what Malcolm was referring to.
"Her husband was killed a couple years ago and Mary virtually disappeared. Totally immersed herself in her work, cut herself off from everyone. Even sent her son Billy to stay with his grandparents." Shaking his head slowly, Malcolm asked. "It was a real shame."
"Looks like she is doing fine now," Chris offered. "Beautiful, in fact," he murmured.
"She is looking absolutely radiant tonight," Malcolm agreed, a smiling beaming from his face. "I wouldn't get my hopes up or anything though," he said, noticing Chris' appreciative glance toward Mary. "If you can believe rumors, they say she is seeing some guy who works for the government.... military... secret service... FBI... one of them places. Name's Larabee. Big wig supposedly."
"Is that right?" Chris said non-commitedly, sipping his drink.
"Yep. Met through her ex-father-in-law. Guess he can't be too bad of a fellow if Orrin approves of him."
"Orrin has some pretty high standards," Chris agreed, trying to keep the amusement from his voice.
"You know that old dog?" Malcolm asked excitedly.
"I have the honor of speaking with him occasionally," Chris explained evasively. A twinge of guilt crossed his conscience. It really wasn't fair for him to let Malcolm continue, especially if he was an old friend of Orrin's.
Before he could say anything however, the vibration of his cell phone distracted him. Excusing himself, he turned toward the wall and answered it. When he turned back a few short moments later, he saw that Mary and Malcolm's wife had joined the older man.
"Ah, Chris," Malcolm called when he saw the younger man finish his call. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Ora." He paused as Chris greeted his wife. When Chris had murmured the appropriate acknowledgments, he gestured toward Mary. "And this beautiful creature is Mary Travis, the owner of my biggest competitor, the Four Corner Chronicle." Feeling quite proud to be able to introduce Mary to a man who was obviously intrigued with her, Malcolm grinned. "Mary, Chris...er... I don't believe I caught your last name," he said looking toward Chris with a frown on his face.
Amusement and an apology showed in Chris' eyes as he was caught. "Larabee."
"Ah, Chris Lara...," Malcolm broke off as comprehension cascaded through his mind.
Seeing Malcolm's eyes widen in astonishment, Chris held out his hand. "Sorry. Occupational hazard I guess," he offered.
"Chris! You didn't," Mary gasped, realizing that Chris had been playing possum and seeing what information he could get from the owner of the Rocky Mountain Herald. Not that he had to push Malcolm that much. The man loved to talk.
Having the good grace to grin sheepishly as Mary slipped next to him, Chris moved his arm so that his hand could rest on her lower back. "Well, if it helps any, he didn't say anything that I didn't already know."
"You...," Mary said shaking her head, amusement and exasperation in her voice. Looking toward Malcolm, Mary apologized. "He is so bad sometimes."
Chuckling, Malcolm shook his head. "He got me all right. No harm done though." Winking conspiratorially at her, he added, "Good thing I didn't tell him that I asked you to run away with me several years ago."
Smiling at her old friend's comments, her eyes showed concern as Mary looked up at Chris. She knew that several of his team were working a case. "Everyone all right?" she asked quietly, her eyes telling him she would understand if they needed to cut the night short.
"Just a situation developing quicker than we thought. I'll deal with it in the morning," Chris replied, a tender smile on his face at her understanding. "We can stay a while longer if you wish." Seeing the joy return to her eyes, he pulled her closer to his side. Turning back to Malcolm, his eyes were dancing when he said, "Now, what's this about you trying to sweep Mary off her feet?"
The end.
P.S. The print I mentioned is real. Thomas Mangelson is a wildlife photographer who gets some absolutely fabulous shots. "Bad Boy of the Forest" can be seen at http://mangelson.com/mip/tigersbengal.htm. Bad Boy is the first photo. (If the other link doesn't work, you can get to the same screen by going to http://www.mangelson.com and choosing the Image Portfolio and then tigers. My personal favorite is the second to the last - Survivor) And no, I don't work for him nor do I get a commission - just love his photographs! <g>.
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