I once started crocheting a face cloth, that became a scarf, that became a shawl and ended as a blanket. This story reminds me of that. It began as a snippet, became a chapter, then a story. I fear an opus might yet come to pass if I can't turn off the random ramblings of my mind.

My thanks to the creators of these characters to I get to shape with my (occasionally disturbed) imagination. Trust me – I mean them no (serious) harm. And my thanks to those who continue to read and write these FF pieces, keeping the boys alive.

Conversation in the room stopped when the door to Chris Larabee's office opened. The man himself leaned out into the bullpen. "Ezra – need to see you. The rest of you could at least pretend to look busy."

"Oh Ezra – your turn in the principal's office." JD grinned, but halted his next comment when he got a look at Chris's face. Whatever was going on wasn't good. Ezra saw the look as well, and turned to his teammates to alleviate the tension. "We who are about to die, salute you." and with an exaggerated grin and gesture to match the quote, he stepped into the office. The door closed quickly behind him, but not before Chris gave a look that clearly told all the others to stay put.

"Damn." Buck spoke for all of them.

"What?" Vin Tanner walked into the room, unaware of what had just transpired. The sharpshooter had developed a special friendship with Ezra and Buck was reluctant to be the one to let him know there was likely trouble ahead. He looked down for a minute before speaking. "Ezra just got called into the lion's den."

"So, probably just an undercover job they need to discuss."

"Don't think so Vin." JD spoke up. Dunne was the youngest on the team, and in many ways the most innocent. Still, he knew trouble when he saw it. "The Judge was in there too. Been talking to Chris for about 20 minutes."

That did bring a frown to Vin's face. The Judge was Judge Travis. A long time justice, he had stepped down from the bench after being frustrated by too many plea deals and technicalities which tended to let the criminal masterminds off, see the minions punished in their place, and victims left with no justice. He took his skills and knowledge to the ATF and was given the responsibility of putting together special operations teams to try to balance that scale. The result included a number of special operations teams, far and away the best of which was Team 7.

Chris Larabee was born to lead just such a team. The project had presented itself at a time he was getting over his battle with his own demons resulting from the death of his wife and son, and had given him a reason to pull himself together. Buck Wilmington had been Chris's first recruit. A long-time friend, he was the balance to Chris's sombre outlook on life. Buck loved life, and lived it big. And it didn't hurt that he was the best lawman Larabee had ever worked with. If Buck had said no, the team would have died before it ever got started.

Josiah Sanchez was next on the team. One of the top profiler's in the business, the big man looked as intimidating as demon from hell, but was in reality a gentle soul. He gave the group a sense of tranquility in a job that usually did not allow for or encourage such a sentiment.

Josiah in turn had recommended Nathan Jackson. The young man had been working toward a medical degree when personal and financial issues got in the way, and he ended up working as an EMT. His proximity to law enforcement peaked that interest, and before he knew it he'd been recruited into the ATF and onto Team 7. He brought a moral code and work ethic to the team that provided a grounding the other more unconventional members benefited from.

The sharpshooter had been an automatic choice for Chris. He was well aware of Vin Tanner's reputation as a loner, and as a result a bit of an outsider in the ATF. He was also aware of his record. The man was quite probably the best shooter in that, or any other organization. A walking contradiction of a man who disliked violence and one who was unparalleled with a rifle, or most any weapon. He had quickly warmed to the others, and fit into their particular brand of eccentricity quite well.

The last original team member was JD Dunne, a recommendation from the Judge. A fresh recruit at the time, there seemed to be little the man couldn't do with or to a computer. His youthful enthusiasm was at the same time refreshing and annoying. Buck had taken it as his own project to ensure the youngster – the "Kid" – learned the ropes and, more importantly, learned how to duck.

It was almost a year later that Ezra Standish joined the team. Aside from the difficulties of trying to step into a well running machine, he had further baggage. He was available because he was no longer wanted by his previous employer – the FBI. There, he had been one of the top undercover operatives the Bureau had ever seen. But such a standing came with a price. Rumors began to circulate; he couldn't possibly be that good, fit in that well with the criminal element unless he was crooked himself. His high living life style and cavalier manner only served to endorse that opinion. And if Vin Tanner had been considered a loner, Standish was a hermit. He had no real friends within the Bureau, a fact that had become all too apparent when the speculation began. No one came to his defense, no one questioned the accusations. And so, despite the complete absence of any evidence, he became an outcast – unused and unwanted. He had, after months of putting up with the treatment, decided the time had come to move on, when he was approached by Chris Larabee.

Standish originally thought it was a joke, or a set-up. The steely look in Larabee's eyes soon convinced the man of his sincerity.

"Mr. Larabee, you are either extraordinarily clever, astonishingly naïve or certifiably insane to endeavour to conscript me into your esteemed and decidedly skilled ensemble. I cannot help but contemplate how much time shall pass before one of us laments what I am about to say. I accept your offer."

In the 16 months since that meeting, Larabee had had many times where he silently wondered if the decision had been his best call. Certainly professionally it was. The team's record was nothing short of astounding, with the highest conviction record in the system. But it had taken a long time before Ezra was one of the team. The stigma of his FBI departure hung over him still, although the team had long since abandoned any doubts they might have had. But Ezra had never completely let down his barriers. He remained a bit of a mystery to the others, and while the walls he kept around himself were lower now than they had ever been, there were still walls.

Now, the enigma that was Ezra Standish sat behind closed doors, and there was a sense of foreboding settling over his teammates.

"Gentlemen, I deeply appreciate your concern, and your condolences, but allow me to assure you neither is required. My mother is no more dead than you or I."

The Judge looked at Chris, arching an eyebrow. The unspoken question "Is he always this delusional?" was clear.

"Ezra, I know it's hard to accept–"

"Hard? No Chris – impossible. I understand your confusion, and I do sympathize with the fact that undoubtedly you both suspect my sanity at this point. Allow me to assure you this is not the first time my mother has 'died', and I doubt it will be the last. She has either tired of her current situation, or has dug herself in a little deeper than anticipated. Either way, this is a ploy, and not a terribly original one at that."

"Mr. Standish, I assure you I have very reliable sources on this. I know something of her – history – and made several calls before coming to notify you of this."

"And I assure you Judge, I deeply appreciate your efforts and concerns. But mother has perished or disappeared under questionable circumstances in the past, and has always reappeared down the line. I need to make only a few calls to determine the nature of her current circumstance and that will clear this up for you."

"Ezra?" He turned to look a Chris. "When she – died – in the past? I take it no body was ever found."

"Clearly, given that there was nothing to be discovered. It isn't as if she exterminated some unfortunate woman to take her position. Mother may be good many things, none of them good, but that is beyond even her consideration."

"They pulled her car out of a lake."

"One of her favorite's Chris. Car in the lake, handbag and personal items located, but alas, no remains."

"Ezra – there is a body. We have the report from the Vegas coroner."

The undercover man hesitated for a moment before regaining his poker face. "Well then clearly they have made an error. Mother's fingerprint records are not likely to be reliable, and anyone who might identify these remains would be remunerated accordingly. Really gentlemen, allow me a few calls and the matter will be resolved."

"OK Ezra – you stay here and make your calls. We'll wait for you in the conference room."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

TBC