Candy From Strangers

PART ONE

When Chris had suggested they all go out to the ranch one night to relax after their most recent- and stunningly successful- bust, all six men readily assented. Nathan, Ezra and Vin agreed to stop at a liquor store beforehand to pick up drinks, and barely managed to escape the office before the deluge of demands for everything from Bud Ice to Chris’s favorite single malt could start. Nathan went in order to at least get something that made a passing attempt at not being too unhealthy, while Ezra went to ensure that he would get something that "a Philistine like our beloved Mr. Tanner would never consider selecting," and Vin went along to get drinks that "normal people would actually like."

"I can’t believe this is all they have," Nathan said, scowling at the poor selection of low-calorie and non-alcoholic beer offered by Lou’s Liquor.

"Mr. Jackson," Ezra sighed as he picked up a bottle of Chateauneuf and inspected the label, "the mere notion of ‘non-alcoholic’ beer is an affront to the long and noble tradition of brewing and imbibing fermented drinks."

"You two ready yet?" shouted Vin from the register before turning to frown at the cashier, who’d asked for his I.D. "Do I look like I’m under twenty-one?" he demanded; the cashier flushed, looked away and mumbled something that could have passed for a yes or no.

Nathan and Ezra wandered forward, the former clutching a six-pack of alcohol-free beer and the latter protectively cradling a bottle of Skyy and Hennessy cognac. Jackson kept up a steady stream of muttered complaints, which the cashier seemed to pick up on- or else the man was eager to get away from Tanner’s steady, intimidating stare.

"If you’re lookin’ for somethin’ ‘long those lines, sir," the cashier said to Nathan as he fished for something underneath the counter, "I think I got somethin’ you might like. Ain’t got no complaints on it yet." With that, he produced a bottle and handed it to the EMT.

Jackson examined the fancy-cut glass of the bottle, liking the way the light shone through the amber contents and glinted off the glass facets. He perused the labelling, noting the lack of alcohol and calories with approval before examining the Gothic-style script that named the drink ‘AQUA VITAE’

"The water of life?" echoed Standish, who’d been reading over Nathan’s shoulder. "Hm. The last time I heard of something similar to that, the Spanish were looking for it in the Caribbean five hundred years ago."

"Har har," Nathan said sarcastically, then turned to give the bottle back to the cashier. "I’ll take it."

"Can I see your I.D. sir?" the cashier asked, gesturing hesitantly to Vin. "He won’t show me his."

"Sadly, age is a sore spot with Mr. Tanner," Ezra said before Nathan could pull his wallet out. "I assure you he is, being an ATF agent, well over the age of twenty-one although he hardly looks it. He gets that sort of thing from the secretaries all the time."

"I... I see," the cashier said weakly.

"Shut up, Ezra," muttered Vin.

"Right away, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said as he flipped through his wallet for a crisp-looking fifty-dollar bill. "This should cover my purchases, I believe." He handed the bill to Vin, who took it and studied it intently.

"Damn, Ez," Vin mumbled. "Do you even iron your money?"

"That, Mr. Tanner, is for me to know and you to find out."

**********

"So, Ez, do ya iron your money?" asked Vin later that night, grinning hugely at the undercover agent.

"However ‘squiffed’ I may be, Mr. Tanner," Ezra replied solemnly, hefting his third glass of Aqua Vitae, "I can assure you that as to that particular question, I have no comment."

"That means yes!" Tanner shouted triumphantly, taking a celebratory sip of what was also his third glass of Aqua Vitae- really, for being low-cal, non-alcoholic stuff, it was pretty good. "Heh... hey, everyone! Ezra here irons his money!"

"Heh... knew it," Josiah mumbled from around the lip of his shot glass, which he held in both hands as he intently studied the light brown liquid. "Hey, if you mix this Aqua Vitae stuff with that Skyy Ezra brought over, it’s pretty bitchin’."

"Can’t believe you just said ‘bitchin’," J.D. murmured. The words came out garbled by both alcohol and the fact the young man had his face pressed firmly down on the kitchen table. "Ain’t... ain’t usually found in... the Joshiah Sanchez Dictionerry."

"Yeah, well, it’s totally groovy, man," Josiah replied, making a peace sign with his right hand and gawking at his hand as, for a second, he saw four fingers making two peace signs. And then six, then eight...

"Geez, Josiah," Buck said from somewhere on the floor, "no one’s said ‘totally groovy’ since the Stone Age."

"The ‘Stoned Age,’ you mean," J.D. interjected, giggling. Buck snorted, which made J.D. laugh even harder.

"Careful, J.D., you’re gonna choke on your own drool," Chris cautioned as he walked past, negotiating his way through the sprawl of limbs that was Buck Wilmington. "Don’t wanna haveta explain to ol’ Travis how one a’ my agents died from chokin’ on his spit. You can die from chokin’ on spit, right Nathan?"

"That’s right," Nathan affirmed before tossing back another mouthful of Aqua Vitae. The drink really was good; he’d indulged in two shots of tequila with Vin, so he could chalk up the cotton in his head to that. And the way the room was starting to spin and the way things suddenly seemed to get really, really big and how he passed out shortly after hearing Chris say something Nathan couldn’t understand.

**********

When Vin opened his eyes, he first wondered how he ended up on the floor; his last memory was teasing Ezra about ironing his money, and he wished that his friends would at least have had the decency to put him on a sofa or something.

His clothes also felt really heavy.

Guess I’m still drunk, Vin thought dully, scrubbing the back of his hand across his eyes.

Wait just a damn minute.

Vin stared closely at his hand, wondering why it looked so... so small and how his fingers had gotten so short. Not to mention how the sleeve of his T-shirt now covered half his arm.
Must still be drunk,  he decided, and then considered getting up to make coffee and get some asprin to fend off the impending hangover. Unsteadily, he got to his feet and shuffled toward the kitchen, almost tripping over the hem of his jeans. Vin hitched up his jeans with one hand and tried to remember what sort of thing happened that would mean his jeans ending up around his knees, then decided he didn’t want to remember- but he’d probably end up killing either Buck or J.D. later, as soon as he got some coffee.

Tanner finally made it to the kitchen and found himself staring up at the countertops. Vin could say conclusively that he hadn’t gotten there on his hands and knees. Had Chris renovated his kitchen since last night? No... couldn’t be.

He had to have shrunk, or was either still so blind stinking drunk he didn’t even know he was on his hands and knees. Vin dimly remembered that Aqua Vitae stuff- he’d drunk his fair share of that, and just a couple of beers along with only a few tequila shots with Nathan and Josiah. No way he could have gotten drunk off that. Determined to put an end to the mystery, Vin shuffled back into the living room in search of the others, cursing his jeans and vowing revenge against whoever had swapped them out with Josiah’s. The room remained dark, with the drapes pulled over the bay window that looked out to the west, and Vin carefully picked his way through furniture and pillows; he congratulated himself on not tripping over anything.

No sooner did that thought cross his mind when he fell over something soft, warm, and movable.
"What the hell?!" shouted the obstacle in a high-pitched and childish tone of voice.

Vin bit back a cry of shock and kicked himself away from the voice using his hands and heels. When he ran up against the far wall, he scrunched into the nearest corner, desperately searching the small of his back for the weapon he kept there. The rig slid around his back, the straps curiously loose, but Vin realized it didn’t make any difference- the holster itself was empty. He watched in silence, considering his next move, as the form over which he’d tripped got to its feet.

"Damn it all to hell," the figure muttered disgustedly, turning around to search for the lamp on the table next to it. The figure mumbled another curse as it climbed up on a chair and reached up to turn the lamp on.

Click-click, and a flood of light washed over the room.

Vin couldn’t stop a surprised gasp from creaking out of his throat; at the sound, the kid standing on the chair whirled around and almost fell off. The kid caught himself on the armrest and cautiously lowered himself down off the piece of furniture, staring at Vin the entire time. Tanner noticed the too-big black shirt and dark jeans, and wondered how the kid had ended up wearing Chris’s clothes- and just where was Chris anyway?

He didn’t have time to pursue such questions, as the kid shuffled over to him. Vin straightened, cursing himself for an idiot to be so scared of a roughly nine-year-old boy. From underneath a shelf of long blond bangs, the kid stared at Vin with suspicious green eyes that softened after a moment into a compassionate gaze. In a low voice, the kid asked, "What’th your name, kid?" in a reassuring grownup-to-lost-and-scared-child tone.

Insulted, Vin scowled and said, "Vin Tanner."

"Vin?" asked the kid, and as Vin looked more closely, he saw a familiar look in those green eyes.
"Chris?" he whispered, trying not to hear how high his voice had gotten.

PART TWO

Vin couldn’t believe it.

Chris Larabee had a lisp.

Well, he was also a nine-year-old, too, but that was beside the point. Still, if Chris was a nine-year-old... how old would that make Vin?

"Hey, Vin, you make a mighty cute six-year-old," said a new voice. Vin spun around, almost falling over the hem of his jeans, and saw a wiry dark-haired kid about Chris’s age.

"Buck?" Vin asked incredulously.

"Yup. Hell of a dream this is," Buck said and eyed Chris. "You got a lisp, war dog."

"I know that," Chris retorted, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I ended up getting bracesth when I wasth ten to fix it. Damn it, why the hell are we talkin’ about my listhp? I mean... lissssssp." Chris hissed the word as forcibly as he could and scowled when he saw both Vin and Buck trying to hide a grin and open laughter, respectively. "I’m thtill Agent-in-Charge," he reminded them sternly, drawing himself up as high as he could- it only served to make the waistband of his jeans dip precariously and he had to sieze the material in a clenched fist before it could complete its embarrassing southward journey.

"That’s all very well and good," said a younger version of Ezra Standish as he stumbled over to the three boys, tripping over his rolled-up trouser legs and frowning at them from underneath tousled auburn hair. "While you three are apparently content to destroy the admittedly coarse material of your jeans, I can assure you that Gucci chinos were not meant to be ground into whatever refuse happens to coat this carpet," Ezra continued, frowning. "Now, if I may inquire, what just happened here?"

"Nathan’s Aqua Vitae happened," a strangely high, squeaky voice said.

"Josiah?" the four boys asked all at once.

"In the rejuvenated flesh," Josiah sighed, running his fingers through curly brown hair. "It appears that we have all been de-aged with respect to how much of the Aqua Vitae we’ve consumed- this fits in with the story of the Count St.-Germaine and this potion he allegedly kept to rejuvenate himself. As legend has it-"

"Josiah," cut in Chris before the profiler could continue on with his exposition, "I don’t give a rat’sth assth about the Count St.-Germaine- I care about gettin’ old again so I don’t have to face Orin on Monday and explain thisth sthituation to him. He’d never believe me- I mean, it’sth just too farfetched, even for usth."

"Chris has a point," Vin agreed, sighing and hitching his jeans up some more; didn’t help that he’d been straight up and down like a Popsicle stick as a kid- like that had changed any in twenty years. "We’re gonna haveta figure a way outta this one. I mean, I’ve got another twelve years ‘til I can carry my gun again."

"I believe I know just the place to instigate our investigation," Ezra said; under the weight of three expectant stares, he continued. "Mr. Jackson accompanied myself and Mr. Tanner to the liquor store last night to procure libations. He was the one who purchased said Aqua Vitae- I suggest we interrogate him."

He got three nods of agreement, and four sets of eyes turned to the corner where a young Nathan Jackson slumbered, unaware of his role in their plight. Chris wandered over to Nathan and shoved him none-to-gently with his toe. "Wake up!" Chris demanded. "Damn it, Jacksthon!"

"Mmmhuh? Wha-?" Nathan mumbled and raised a sleepy gaze up to Chris’s face. When he saw the imperious and childish visage above him, his eyes widened. "Holy God!" Jackson breathed and clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Nathan," Chris began, his voice dangerously low. "What in the hell did you do?"

Instinctively, Nathan knew it was about the Aqua Vitae- he just knew it. "I... I bought a low-fat, non-alcoholic drink," he sputtered. "C’mon, Ezra, Vin, help me out, huh? The guy at the store said he hadn’t gotten any complaints on it before."

"Perhaps because he hadn’t found anyone who was willing to purchase it," Ezra retorted.

"Or maybe he did, but you think some kid who useta be thirty years old is gonna walk into a liquor store an’ demand his money back ‘cause somethin’ he drank turned him into a ten-year-old?" Vin added darkly.

"Wait a sthec," Chris muttered, distracted from the conversation by a nagging thought. He turned to Josiah and asked, attempting to avoid any word using the letter ‘s’, "You told... you told the group that Aqua Vitae de-agesth a... a man in proportion to how much he drank, right?"

"Well, yes, and it also depends on how old the person is," Josiah affirmed, wincing at how his his voice sounded- he figured he was around eleven and had a good three more years ‘til puberty.

"Why do you ask?"

"How much did J.D. drink?"

As if on cue, they could all hear a soft rustling sound from somewhere around the kitchen table. Moving in a group, the six boys moved over in the direction of the noise and peered into the half-darkness surrounding the kitchen. They watched as a tiny figure crowned with a mop of black hair extracted itself from a pile of clothes and toddled over, beaming toothlessly.

"Oh, God," breathed Nathan, Chris, and Vin simultaneously.

"Dearest Lord," exhaled Ezra and Josiah.

"That tears it," Buck said decisively, picking up a discarded t-shirt and shuffling over to J.D. He wrapped the kid- the toddler?!- in the shirt and picked him up, saying, "We gotta find a way out of this, guys- there’s no way I’m changin’ diapers. No sirree."

"Right," Chris said slowly. "Well, we’re gonna haveta go to the liquor... place."

"Have to drive there," Vin pointed out and Chris scowled.

"I have a proposition," Ezra said and explained the plan.

**********

"Damn it, Vin, get your foot outta my back!"

"Well, if you’d get closer to the clutch like you’re s’posedta, my foot wouldn’t be in your back, Chris!"

"Maybe if you got closther to the gearshift--"

"Children, chil- I mean, fellow children," Josiah soothed from his perch in the driver’s seat.
"Enough of this squabbling. Are you ready to shift, Vin?"

"Yeah, Josiah," Vin said, bending over the gearshift and gripping it with both hands.

"Good. Go ahead and shift to reverse. Tell Chris when he can press down on the clutch."

"Okay... now, Chris," Vin instructed as he slid the Ram into reverse, wishing they could have
made things easier and taken one of the automatics- but, as Ezra had pointed out, the Ram towered above many other vehicles on the road and would be harder for passing motorists to see into. And, the undercover agent added, the tinted windows helped.

The truck lurched backwards out of the garage and almost stalled as an overeager Nathan jammed down on the gas pedal. He lightened up on the pressure in response to an indignant "Mr. Jackson!" from Ezra, who’d fallen over in the back seat.

"Now put ‘er in drive," Josiah said. Vin complied with Chris working the clutch almost in sync and the truck jolted off down the driveway. As the vehicle bucked and rumbled its protest at such rough treatment, Josiah looked over his shoulder and asked, "Ez, where in the hell did you come up with this?"

"It works in the movies, Mr. Sanchez," Ezra assured the profiler. "It works in the movies."

**********

Somehow, the Seven made it to the liquor store unscathed and piled out of the truck in an unruly heap. For such a little kid, J.D. weighed a ton, and Buck was getting damn tired of carrying him- all the others flatly refused to take him, though, and J.D. would threaten to cry if Buck set him down and made him walk.

By the time he caught up with the others, he had to catch the heavy swinging door on his shoulder to keep it open. Muffling a curse, he stumbled inside just in time to hear Chris tell the man, "Well, Lou, we’re agentsth of the ATF and we have the authority to confisthcate your liquor vending licensthe pending investhtigation into the sthale of illegal thubsthances."

"Agents of the ATF, huh?" Lou asked, beaming down on Chris and the others good-naturedly. "Ya don’t say."

"We do say," Vin retorted. "Check our prints against the ones on file in the ATF offices. They’ll match."

"Hm... ain’t that interestin’," mumbled Lou, studying his worn, jagged fingernails. "Why don’t you all run along an’ play on a highway somewhere?"

"Sir, if you do not prove yourself to be more... amenable to our demands, my compatriots and I will take it upon ourselves to first wreak havoc amongst your merchandise and then defenestrate your cash register. With the combined strength and energy of seven youngsters, I can assure you that such activities are easily done."

"Defene-what?" asked Lou blankly.

"We’ll toss your cash register out the window, and possibly yourself with it," Ezra translated, frowning.

"And when I grow up," Chris informed Lou, who had gone from patronizing to cowering behind the counter at the thought of his merchandise being damaged- and his inability to explain why seven kids would destroy his store-, "I’ll kick your assth."

"Okay, okay!" Lou heaved a sigh and rummaged under the counter for another cut-glass bottle, one smaller than the bottle which contained the Aqua Vitae. He handed it to Chris, who snatched it from him and held the bottle against his chest as if afraid Lou would take it back. "Just drink a teaspoon of this and you’ll be back t’ normal... damned annoyin’ kids."

"Hm... one more thing," Ezra added before heading off to join his friends in the bathroom, "I believe some incentive will be required in order to procure our silence on this matter."

Lou licked his lips and asked nervously, "What’dya have in mind?"

**********

Their recent experiences with alcohol notwithstanding, each now-restored-to-adulthood member of Team Seven re-congregated at Chris’s house later that day, liquor supplies restocked and waiting for use. Ezra observed the irony of their continued debauch, but the observation went unheard by all except Josiah, who nodded sagely.

"I, too, find this situation somewhat bizarre, considerin’ the events of today," Josiah agreed. "But with the store’s proprietor being so unstinting in his generosity, I think it’d be a sin to refuse his offer of what amounts to an open bar."

"Point taken, Mr. Sanchez," Ezra mumbled, "as long as ‘open bar’ does not extend to other unmarked bottles."

"There’s a moral in this somewhere, you know," Josiah pronounced solemnly from over his second shot of bourbon. The others looked up at the declaration; Buck raised a drunken eyebrow in question and Chris grinned.

"Yeah," Vin agreed, nodding his head and taking a gulp of beer before leaning back in his chair and directing a glare at Nathan, who cringed a little and sunk deeper into the couch.

"Non-alcoholic drinks are bad news," Tanner said after a weighty moment.

"And you should never, ever eat or drink something that doesn’t have an FDA-required content label," added J.D virtuously, looking straight at Nathan.

"Amen, brothers," Josiah murmured and rasied his glass in agreement.

THE END