A Dark Tale

By: Cin


NOTE: I did not plan a Halloween fic. But someone sent me a really bad joke and JD popped up and said that's me. So this fic was born, a bit late but it's still Halloween here. Besides I guess I have to earn my keep around here. I don't think this is going to do it though. <g>


ATF AU

St. Estaban's Festival for All Hallow's Eve was in full swing and children and adults were enjoying themselves on the crisp fall night. Parishioners and volunteers planned for months to provide the children a safe old fashion celebration, enticing families to bring their children to the safer celebration than risking the unknown with trick-or-treating. It also provided a night of entertainment for those who otherwise might have wished to demonstrate the tricky side of the holiday.

While the adults wandering the church grounds sadly bemoaned the loss of innocence the once simple joy of the holiday brought, the younger generation concentrated on having fun. The grounds were transformed to reflect a country fall festival with hay bales, pumpkins and scarecrows scattered around.

Laughter rang from cowboys, and Indians bobbing for apples. Princesses and knights rode ponies and pretended they were in great jousts. Angels and superheroes vied to be the winner of all the goodies at the cakewalk. Firefighters, policemen, doctors and nurses took a gamble at the various booths featuring such games of chance as go fish, darts and the wheel of fortune. Volunteers were kept busy doling out punch and treats, while the lines were long to take the hayride in the old cargo wagon around the block.

The crowd was growing larger around the center of the grounds where a bright bonfire blazed and adults and children gathered around. Volunteers were taking turns throughout the night to share scary tales with those who dared to listen.

"Hey there cowboy, got one of those for a dusty trail rider?"

A green-eyed glare was shot at the man who stepped up to claim a cup of hot apple cider. "Look who's talking," the blond shot back eyeing his friend garbed in buckskin trousers, denim shirt, buckskin jacket complete with fringe and topped off with a leather slouch hat covering his long brown locks and a blue bandana around his neck. The young man looked like he had just walked out of the pages of a western novel. "Besides, you're the one with the wrangler job."

"Yeah," the young man snorted eyeing his boss and friend up and down with a sly half smile on his face as he teased. "I'll take drivin' that wagon around anytime than doin' time back here with the ladies. Course you dressed anticipatin' it, I reckon."

Chris Larabee frowned. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Well, stud, if you don't know, you're beyond my help."

Larabee jumped as he felt the hard slap on his ass. Turning, he tried glaring at the perpetrator, but had to stifle the laugh instead. He still could not get over his old friend reincarnated as Elvis, white leather jumpsuit and all. Some of the children may not know who the tall dark haired man represented, but many of the young women in the crowd were begging him to show them his moves all night long. And the imposter was more than willing to oblige.

"Buck?"

"Hell, stud, you paint yourself into those jeans?"

Chris opted for a western theme, like his friend. It was something easy to accomplish from his own closet with a pair of black jeans, a black western shirt and his black Stetson hat. He completed the outfit by making use of the antique replica Colt revolver and holster he had in his collection to appear as a gunslinger from the old west. He glanced uncertainly down at his outfit now. "What's wrong with my jeans?"

"Not a thing," came the feminine voice behind him.

The three men turned to see the ladies Chris had been sharing the booth with. Mary Travis was grinning at him and gave him a knowing wink.

The two men laughed at the blush that appeared on their boss' usually stoic face.

"You been hangin' round Buck too long, showing your wares like that," Vin Tanner teased his friend.

"Stow it, Tanner," Chris hissed, remembering to tone down his usual comments in deference to the little ears running around.

The two laughed again at their boss' discomfort. As leader of Denver's most successful ATF team, they knew he was a bit out of his element. But they were all volunteering as part of the department's public relations with the community. It was not the first time they had participated in events such as this, and though they all might grumble about it, they realized they actually enjoyed themselves.

"Have either of you seen JD?" Buck asked to give his friend time to get over the embarrassment of realizing his rear end was an asset being ogled by the ladies behind him.

"Yeah," Vin nodded taking a sip of his cider, then nodded over toward the bonfire at the center of the grounds. "He's takin' his turn at tellin' ghost stories."

"JD?" Buck exclaimed. "This I've got to hear. All I ever hear him tell are those awful jokes of his."

"Why don't we all go check it out," Chris suggested casting a wary eye behind him, suddenly feeling like he had a target pinned to his backside and needing a break. "You won't miss me, will you, Mary?"

"I'm not so sure about that," she gave him another suggestive wink, laughing at the glare that was sent her way.

Chris wondered when he had lost his touch and his evil glare quit working as he felt himself tugged out of the booth by his oldest friend.

"Come on, stud," Wilmington pulled him along. "Let's give the ladies a rest."

Chris gave up, hearing Tanner's laughter. He already knew the glare did not work on him. He would have to think of another way to get back at his two friends.

Nearing the large gathering around the bonfire, the three men took note of the other members of their team. Ezra Standish, dressed as a riverboat gambler, was near the fire entertaining a group of children and adults with a series of quick-handed card tricks. Josiah Sanchez and Nathan Jackson were strolling up to the group from the other side. The team profiler was dressed as a monk in a long brown robe and sandals. The team medic was aptly dressed in doctor's scrubs, which was also convenient as he was in charge of the first aid booth for the event.

The friends met and circled the fire to eye the youngest member of their team. He sat above his audience on several bales of hay. Dressed as a pirate, he had his bare feet tucked up under him. He wore ragged pants that stopped just below his knees with a ragged hem, a red-striped shirt, vest, a black bandana was tied around his long dark hair, and an eye patch covered one eye. His held his audience captive as he told a traditional Halloween tale.

He modulated his voice to enhance the telling. The children sat around with wide eyes watching the young man wave his hands as he wove a tale meant only for nights like this when ghostly tales could be believed and anything could happen.

"A man was walking home alone late one night," JD began a new story. "He stops. There is a noise behind him." JD's eyes widened, as if he too was afraid, and he lowered his voice and flashed his fingers to his audience to add a visual to the description of the noise.

"BUMP"

"BUMP"

"BUMP"

JD gasped, "The man started walking faster. He looked back over his shoulder, barely making out the image of something following him. He couldn't believe his eyes." JD paused looking around at the expectant faces of his audience. "It was an upright coffin banging its way down the middle of the street towards him."

The youngsters in front of him jumped as he flashed his fingers and made the sound once again, louder this time.

"BUMP"

"BUMP"

"BUMP"

"The guy was terrified now and he started to run. The coffin bounced along behind him speeding up as the man ran faster."

Even some of the adults jumped this time as JD made the bumping sound.

"BUMP"

"BUMP"

"BUMP"

JD got into the telling acting out more of the story as he continued. He was breathing hard and fumbling in his pockets as he continued. "The man ran up to the door of his house. He tried to find the keys, but that thing was getting closer. Finally he gets his keys," JD smiled as he heard some of the youngsters in front of him sigh in relief. "He's trying to find the right key for the door. Finally, he gets it and opens the door, running inside. He slams the door behind him and locks it."

JD took a deep breath then seemed to relax. "He was safe," glancing once more around his audience he added under his breath. "Or so he thought." The audience perked up again.

Suddenly JD jumped up wide-eyed in fear and raised his voice, causing everyone to jump as well. "The coffin crashed through the door!"

"The man turned to run again. The coffin followed him through the house, it's lid popped open and started clapping as it bounced along."

"Clappity-BUMP"

"Clappity-BUMP"

"Clappity-BUMP"

"Clappity-BUMP"

"The man tried to get away. He turned to the stairs and rushed up thinking the coffin could not follow him. He ran into the bathroom, slammed the door behind him and locked himself in." JD was breathing fast again and looking wide-eyed around the grounds. "His heart was pounding, his head was reeling, and his breath was coming in sobbing gasps."

JD's demeanor mimicked the man in his story. He raised his voice again as he continued, "There was a loud CRASH. The coffin broke down the door. It started bumping and clapping towards him again. He was trapped in this small place. This coffin was going to get him and take him to his doom."

"AUGHHHHHHH!!!"

Everyone jumped once more at the scream from the storyteller.

"The man screamed. He reached behind him trying to find anything to protect himself from this menace. His hand found a bottle on a shelf behind him. He picked it up and looked at it. It was cough syrup."

JD looked around at everyone letting the information set in. "He was desperate, the coffin was almost upon him. He threw the bottle of cough syrup at the coffin." JD pulled his arm back and mimicked the throw, watching his audience faces once again. "The bottle of syrup crashed against the coffin and the blood red syrup ran down the lid."

There was dead silence as everyone waited to hear what happened.

"Come on kid," Buck yelled impatiently. "What happened?"

JD smiled at his roommate and plopped down on the bale of hay swinging his legs and shrugging his shoulders as he finished the tale."Easy, Buck," JD's smile got bigger. "The coffin stopped."

If one thought they could hear a pin drop in a pile of hay, they might have, the silence was so deafening. Then as if it was an ocean wave rolling onto shore, a collective moan rose from the crowd and rolled over the grinning young man.

"JD!" Buck roared.

The young man rolled off the back of the bale he was sitting on. Laughter rang out as the audience watched Elvis chase the pirate through the festival.

The rest of the team shook their heads at the two's antics, use to it by now.

Tanner clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Buy me a drink cowboy?"

Chris rolled his eyes toward the sharpshooter. "I think you better start getting worried, calling me 'cowboy' again."

"Nah," Vin smiled and shook his head, but moving off ahead of his boss just the same.

"Tanner, why aren't you afraid of me?" Chris asked trying his best glare again and stalking his retreating friend.

Vin turned, but continued walking backwards away from the man in black. "Cause I know I can out run you," Vin smirked and turned to walk forward again. He turned his head though and threw a parting shot over his shoulder, "In those tight black jeans."

"Tanner!" Chris growled and blushed hearing a wolf whistle behind him. He turned to see a group of women who waggled their fingers at him as he glanced their way. He turned around to watch the retreating back of his best friend and grimace as he heard his laughter reach him. He was really going to have to think of something to get back at Tanner. That or get a new pair of jeans.

The End (aren't ya glad?)

feedback to cinbg@yahoo.com