Disclaimers: Not ours ... it's probably healthier for the Seven that way. [eg]
Note: Thank you to KRH for the quick and efficient beta. And LA wants to thank Phyllis for writing this with her. She likes making people drive through fog.
Author's Note: For the Christmas Calender.
Chris sighed, placing the last report in his outbox. "Done, finally." He leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. Eyes closed, he relaxed, then tensed, straining to hear.
It was very quiet.
"Oh, hell." He was out of his chair and to his office door in two seconds. Flinging the door opened, he moaned. "Oh God, no."
Empty!
'What the hell?' Larabee thought to himself.
The leader of Team Seven had told his team they were meeting with Travis at four. No one was to leave before that. He should have been suspicious when no one protested, not a word. Thinking back, he remembered how they had all smiled at him like compliant children. "Shit," he said to the empty room. Heading for the door, he vowed to 'sting up every last one of them!'
They would not play hooky from this meeting!
Meanwhile, upstairs ... .
"Amy, do you have those files on the Row case?"
"Yes, sir. I'll bring them to you."
Travis thanked his secretary before leaning back in his chair. Mentally, he reviewed his notes for the upcoming meeting. Checking off all the items, he grinned, realizing he might just get out in time for Billy's little league game. Everything was going well today, surprisingly.
After a quick knock, the door opened. Amy entered with quick perfunctory steps, in her hand the files.
"Here you go, sir — Oh my God!"
Travis turned. And there, out his tenth story window was most of Team Seven.
"Get Larabee. Get him now!"
The angry man punched the elevator button repeatedly. Finally, the doors slid open and he stepped in, hitting the down button forcefully. As the doors slid closed silently, the phone in his pocket vibrated. He jammed his hand into his pocket and flipped the instrument open as he watched the numbers descend. "Larabee."
He listened to the voice at the other end of the line, his mouth pursed tightly and the vein at his temple throbbing. He glanced at his watch.
Two-fifteen.
Damn it! They still had hours! Why was the Judge summoning him now?
"Okay, Amy. I'm on my way."
Snapping the instrument closed, he punched the button for the tenth floor. The elevator doors opened onto the lobby and Larabee slammed the heel of his hand onto the tenth floor button again. The two people about to step into the car backed out as Chris glared at the uncooperative button.
Finally, the doors opened onto the correct floor and the man in black swept down the hall and entered ADA Travis' office. The secretary waved him in without a word.
Chris turned the knob and entered the office without knocking. He opened his mouth to say something as he turned from closing the door, but forgot whatever it was as his gaze moved from Travis to the window behind him. Dangling on the outside of the glass were the missing members of Team Seven, waving.
"Judge?"
"Yes, Chris?" Travis let the smirk escape, otherwise he was going to start crying.
"I can create another team, right? In the event that my old team is killed."
Travis cleared his throat. "Well, I don't think you can create another team behind bars."
"True." Chris watched in fascination as his men continued their "picnic" on the window washer's dangling platform. "But I wasn't planning to kill them myself."
"Oh really?" Travis didn't have to feign his interest.
"Yeah, I was thinking of calling their wives."
Travis snorted with laughter.
Once again Larabee reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. He punched a button and waited.
"Yeah?"
"What the hell are ya'll doing?"
"We were hungry. Judge wasn't planning on feeding us at this meeting was he?"
The blonde's voice dropped in timbre as he growled. "Tanner, you know exactly what I mean." Green bored holes into the blue eyes gazing at him through the glass.
"Well, you told us to hang around and it's such a nice day, we thought a picnic would be great. Buck figured ... "
Vin's head snapped forward. "Dang it, Bucklin. That hurt."
Faintly, Chris could hear Wilmington talking as he saw his mouth moving.
"Don't be tossing my name around. Ezra was the one that thought of the platform."
The platform swayed slightly as Standish moved past Dunne and got in Buck's face. "I beg to differ. I offered that the roof would be the most likely place to consume our respite, as the sun was not so beastly hot today. Nathan is the one that brought this mode of conveyance to the attention of this band of hooligans."
Jackson pulled the southerner back down onto his derriËre, causing the platform to bang lightly against the window. "I may have pointed it out but I didn't suggest riding it down to the judge's window. That was JD's idea."
Chris pressed the phone tighter against his ear, trying to listen to the men as they bickered.
"Yeah, well, Josiah was the one that said he knew how to operate it."
All eyes turned to the profiler. "I spent a summer working the Empire State building. It is amazing the things that you see through the windows of a multi-story building."
Buck leaned forward. "Well, why don't you share some of them sights with us, Josiah?"
"Now, brother, I think that would against the rules by which window washers live."
"It ain't like a confessional, Josiah. You could just ... "
The platform lurched and six pairs of hands reached for something to hold on to.
Tanner's voice, calm as could be, came through the earpiece. "Ah, Chris, we may have a problem, here."
Larabee watched, transfixed as the platform suddenly dropped from sight. "Oh hell!"
Larabee flew to the window as Travis leapt to his feet.
Both men heaved sighs of relief as the platform jerked to a stop.
Chris dropped his head onto the thick glass, eyes closed. "They're like brothers to me, but so help me God, I am going to kill them."
Orrin snickered. "If they don't get themselves killed first."
"Of course." Chris shook his head. "Do you think the fire department could reach them?"
Orrin squinted. "Probably." He returned to his desk and picked up the phone.
Chris stood there, like the rest of the spectators, head tilted back, watching as the firefighters hoisted their ladder and prepared to climb and retrieve Chris' stranded ATF team. So far, everything was going smoothly.
And as always when things went a little too smoothly, something went wrong.
Chris' breath caught in his throat as the ladder stopped several feet below the platform where the six men clung. It was obvious to everyone that one end of the platform was slowly slipping lower. "You'd think at least one of those idiots would have thought to spread out the weight," Larabee said under his breath.
Buck and Josiah sat on one end with Nathan next to them. Vin, Ezra, and JD were on the high end trying to keep from slipping down and hitting one of the others.
Motion caught the leader of Team Seven's attention. He looked down the street to see two news vans pulling up. Mary Travis had arrived and stood, staring up in horror. She slowly turned and met gazes with Chris.
'God, can this get any worst?' he wondered silently. Not only were they making a spectacle of themselves for the people on the street, but now the rest of Team Seven were going to be on the six o'clock news as well!
He was never going to live this down.
"All right, gentlemen," the firefighter murmured as if excessive volume would further tilt the already precariously dangling platform, "we're gonna need you to redistribute your weight."
Vin glanced at the well-meaning fireman. "Uh, no offense, but I don't think that's such a good idea."
"Well, if you don't move, sir, we'll never be able to get you off this thing."
"Tanner!" Chris hollered, hearing every word via the two way radio. "Just do what he says!"
Vin glared over the side at his best friend but nodded. "Go ahead, guys, do it."
"But, Vin —"
"Just go, JD."
One by one, they shifted, then proceeded to climb out. When JD, the last one, stepped off the platform it began to tilt even more.
The potato salad splattered on Chris' shoulder.
The bar-be-que sauce landed on Judge Travis' leg.
Mary narrowly dodged the mashed potatoes.
The chocolate cream pie landed on Chris' head.
Arms akimbo, the team leader stood shock still as the chocolate and whipped cream dripped and drizzled down his face, chest, and back.
JD swallowed hard, staring at his boss over the ladder's railing. "I think I'm gonna get back on the washer's platform."
"Oh shit, wait for me!"
"Move over!"
"Out of my way!"
"Make room, y'all!"
"Dear Lord, he's got his gun!"
The End
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