"I can't! I just can't!"

The cry echoed over the clack of keys and paper shuffling which dominated the large room. All other noises fell quiet. Heads rose as men and women, jolted from their concentration, looked around to locate the source of the distressed voice. Cubicle walls separated the space into several mini-offices, but, after a moment or two of surprised silence, people began to appear in the walkways. Whispers rose and fell as the office gossip chain stirred into action.

One woman in particular moved into the center of the room where the two largest walkways intersected. Gloria Potter, a mature woman who had survived the ups and downs of office politics and shakeups as well as the murder of her husband during a robbery, turned a firm eye on all of the prattling admins. "Do we have nothing better to be doing?"

"That was Adrienne!"

"Yes," she nodded towards the anonymous voice, "I'm aware. And someone will deal with her and whatever the situation might be, but neither require the rest of us acting like a bunch of chattering birds."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Yes, Ms. Potter."

Gloria watched as the others scattered back to their desks. She sighed and wove her way through the room to the front. As expected, she found her usual companions, Verna Brunetti and Rachel Stavros, waiting there. "Should I even ask?" she sighed.

"A casualty of Team Seven." Verna rolled her eyes. "The girl's only been here for six weeks. How'd she get assigned to them anyway?"

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "She should learn not to bad-mouth Judge Travis…especially not somewhere known to be frequented by agents and office workers."

"Please tell me it wasn't down at Watson's?" Gloria rubbed her forehead. "Surely the girl would have more sense?"

"One would think," Rachel shrugged. "I don't know who heard her, but word got back to Rhoda. And you know how she is about the judge."

Verna cackled. "If she wasn't so insanely happy with that husband of hers, I'd think Evie Travis should be worried."

"And there you go."

"Good for her," Gloria asserted.

"You always did like him," Verna prodded as Rachel nodded in agreement. "Him and Team Seven."

Gloria just smiled as she turned to go back to work. If only they knew.

When Judge Travis first came to take over the Denver field office of the Bureau of Alcohol, Firearms, Tobacco, and Explosives, better known as the ATF, everyone held their breath for the shakeup. New bosses always meant a shakeup – of policy or priorities or even of personnel. People focused a little more, worked a little harder. Gloria Potter? The new boss did not so much as cause a wrinkle in her brow.

He brought a sigh of relief…which made no sense to anyone else and traced back to one dark January morning when her entire life changed.

She could still remember that morning. An unexpected patch of ice caused her car to go out of control and landed her in the hospital with a head injury. Time healed the physical wounds, but the knock to her head opened something else in her mind, unlocking memories of past lives…and of people she had never met. As a grown woman with two kids, she had long since outgrown the fanciful part of her life. She feared she might have actual brain damage. Then she saw a report by new investigative reporter Mary Travis.

Everything clicked.

Those past lives weren't fantasies or signs that she might be going mad. She had actually lived them. Why she remembered, how the accident had unlocked them…she didn't know either of these things. What she did know was that they gave her vital clues to the people around her.

Including Judge Travis…and the team he added to the Denver office – the simply named Team Seven, under the judge's handpicked leader – Chris Larabee.

"Gloria!"

Shaking herself free of her memories, she glanced up as Rhoda Merrick strode into her workspace. "Yes?"

"I need you to go up and deal with Team Seven please," the Judge's personal assistant informed her. "I haven't quite figured out what that girl did, but she managed to push Larabee's buttons." She lifted her hands in warding off gesture. "He's livid."

"Livid hot?" Gloria inquired. "Or livid cold?"

"Hot."

"Thank goodness for that," she replied. "That's much easier to handle than when he's gotten to the point of freezing everyone out. What are we needing?"

"Files," Rhoda explained. "I need files from the Falco case finished and signed off. And apparently Ms. Gardinier chose to comment on the state of Agent Tanner's report."

"Does anyone bother to read the file we created for those boys?" Gloria demanded.

"At least we have it. No one can claim they weren't warned."

"That would be a no then." She shook her head. "A few minor suggestions…if they would just follow them…"

"I know, I know," Rhoda commiserated. "Would you please go see if you can calm the waters?"

"Don't worry," Gloria agreed. "I reviewed those files myself. I'll take care of it."

Stopping just long enough to grab the files in question, she made her way to the elevator. The trip up to the eleventh floor could take several minutes depending on how often it stopped, but she paid no attention to people getting on and off. Rather she let her mind wander as she waited.

Team Seven, or 'the boys' as she thought of them, appeared in every single life she could remember. They didn't always start out together, of course, but somehow they always ended up that way. In some lives they even started as enemies. Goodness knows, she remembered the Trojan War – five men serving with the Greek armies while two fought for the city. She'd known Vin and JD then, under different names of course. Most of the Trojan men had been slaughtered after the Greek victory, but these two had survived…and been saved by the men who would one day become Chris and Buck.

History did have a tendency to repeat itself.

Vesuvius, Charlemagne, the American Revolution…she could still see them striding across each historical landscape. Men who had suffered and kept fighting. They might have seen the worst the world had to offer, but they kept fighting for justice.

On one side of the law or the other.

Then came her life in Four Corners during a time that would come to be known as the Old West.

The elevator bell chimed, bringing her back to the present.

"Eleven?"

"That's mine," she smiled, sliding through the other occupants. Her steps towards the office in the southeast corner remained steady even as she took a deep breath to prepare dealing with a less-than-happy Chris Larabee. She pushed open the door. "Good morning, gentlemen!"

"Thank the good Lord." Josiah Sanchez raised his eyes and hands towards Heaven.

"I'm happy to see you too," she laughed, placing the files on one corner of his desk. "Now, I've got some files that need finishing off on the Falco case." Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Vin sinking down a bit in his chair. "Nothing major, of course, but a couple of details need clearing up and several of you missed signing all of the appropriate pages."

"Agent Jackson?" She held out a file to Nathan Jackson, the team medic. Lord only knew, this team needed one of their own. "Would you mind double checking the police report? Several of them admit to being unclear as to the full list of drugs discovered in the raid and the last thing we need during the trial is missing or contradictory information."

"Of course," Nathan agreed, an easy smile crossing his handsome face. A healer in the present and in the past, she could still see him as he had been in Four Corners, a former slave who had risen above hatred to hope. Some folks thought it queer to trust their health to a man of his race, but she never thought twice about taking her children to him. The gentle man went above and beyond to take care of his patients – and that was enough to calm any mother's heart. "Did I miss any signatures?"

"I don't believe so," she noted, "but a double check probably wouldn't hurt."

"Done."

"Thank you." Gloria pulled out another file. "Agent Wilmington?"

Buck Wilmington beamed at her. "Mrs. Potter, you look absolutely radiant in that shade of blue!"

"Flattery will get you a smile," she informed him, "but it won't get you out of fixing your report." The ladies' man gave her a pout worthy of a boy, but his eyes sparkled. Buck was Buck and you took him on his own terms or not at all. Such a happy-go-lucky ladies' man…she never could understand how he managed to get through life – any life – without finding himself on the wrong side of an angry husband. His jolly nature made him one of the most light-hearted of the seven – until someone tried to hurt a woman, a child, or one of his teammates. Then the dangerous man lurking beneath the surface surged forward and a sensible person got out of the way.

"Missing signatures?" he ventured.

"Two of them." She nodded as he winced. For a moment she could see him as he'd been back in London in 1942 – a marine under Chris Larabee's command. They had been part of the D-Day invasion force. She herself had been a nurse who followed them to the same beachhead a mere four days later. "And your report on the bust seems to be missing several key details – including how you managed to get that shiner."

"Ah…it was nothing."

"It's in the pictures," she corrected. "It needs documenting." He sighed but took the file back to his desk. "Agent Dunne, you're missing one signature and documentation on how you managed to locate the secondary incendiary device."

"Luck?" JD Dunne's youthful expression of innocence might have fooled another woman, but Gloria knew better. She'd seen him use the same ruse before…and she'd only gotten taken in once – by the impish street boy he'd been in Pompeii. Never again. (She hadn't been a mother during that lifetime and apparently didn't know any better.) The 'kid' of the group, he tended to be the most sheltered of the lot when the other men could get away with it.

"Don't even try that with me, Agent." She pointed at him, a warning finger that earned her a mischievous grin. "And if you please…?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Please fix Johnston's computer? If I have to listen to him complain about the IT department one more time, I might have to lose my temper."

"Johnston?" Josiah interrupted JD's chortling attempt at a response. "Isn't that the admin who-?"

"I believe Johnston would be the rather boorish fellow who decided JD would make an excellent amorous conquest regardless of his repeated rejections." Ezra Standish came out of the breakroom, stirring his coffee. "Lovely to see you again, Mrs. Potter."

"Why thank you, Agent Standish." Gloria offered him a folder of his own. He gave her an injured look. "Don't look at me like that. You are perfectly well aware that your expense report requires Agent Larabee's signature before it gets filed."

"Ah, well, it was worth a try." Ezra gave her a charming smile as if she had caught him at a game. She could remember him treating her with just such a smile back in Aachen when she found him sneaking through her kitchens. He had a portion of her cheese wheel under his arm. (Luckily for him, he had not disrupted the pot stewing over the fire. Plums in rosewater were a rare treat.) A wily trickster in every lifetime, she knew he was always happier once he found and joined these men. "Shall I seek out any other…oversights?"

"There are two," she asserted, one challenging brow going up as he pursed his lips. "Would you like me to show you?"

"Do not trouble yourself, madam," he demurred. "I am certain I will be able to pinpoint such unfortunate omissions."

"Good." Then she turned her smile on the eldest of the seven.

"My turn?" Josiah held out a hand. "What did I miss?"

"It's not so much what you missed," she observed. "More what you added. These reports need to be thorough, yes, but perhaps the…musings on the philosophy behind the criminal's motivations could be a bit more…concise?"

Snickers rose from every other desk.

"Plebeians the lot of you," he declared. "You might learn something if you read it."

"But would we remember it?" Nathan teased.

Of all the lifetimes she could remember, Gloria quite thought she liked this version of Josiah best. He still had his moments of course, but for the most part he seemed to carry fewer demons. Considering how many lifetimes he spent chasing God – under whatever name or face he could find, she found his current career choice intriguing. Philosopher, priest, monk…he'd been all of them and more. Did he find more fulfillment by delving into the reasons behind men's behaviors? Or was he just pursuing the same search via a different path?

Not her area of expertise.

"Agent Tanner?" Gloria turned to offer the team's sniper a gentle smile. Vin lifted his chin to meet her gaze, but she could see the distress in those blue eyes of his. "I just need a couple of signatures," she continued, holding out his file. "At the places I've marked with the red tabs."

"That's all?" Suspicion flooded his expression. Vin's long battle with dyslexia made many of his reports a challenge to wade through – and he knew it. She could still remember him during their time at Four Corners when he did his best to avoid letting people know he couldn't read at all. A few of them had figured it out, of course, but he got so antsy when anyone even alluded to it. They worked around it instead – Mary would talk about the stories she planned to print in the paper while she herself would ask him if he thought such-and-such prices were fair on various items he would show interest in.

For now, he could sign in the appropriate places and she would clean up the reports for him.

"That's all." She held back a chuckle at the relief now pouring out of him as he slumped in his chair. Always the quietest of the seven, he still possessed the poet's soul which had made him so popular back in Florence during the age of the Medici's. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards the closed door across the way. Silence fell as she eyed it for a long moment. The fingers of one hand tapped the last two folders on the desk as she turned back to meet six pairs of amused eyes.

A couple of them ducked her flat look, but most just smirked.

"Smart alecks," she muttered. She picked up the folder and walked over to the door. Rapping her knuckles on it, she waited out the silence.

After a long moment, she heard a growling voice. "Come in."

Lifting an eyebrow, she glanced over her shoulder one more time. "Wish me luck?"

"Go with God, sister," Josiah intoned.

"Oh, now look who thinks he's funny," Gloria scolded. He gave her a smug grin. She shook her head and opened the door. "Agent Larabee?"

"At least this time they sent someone with some damn sense."

Both eyebrows rose at that. "Hello to you too."

Chris stood up and walked around the desk as she entered, closing the door behind her. Hitching one hip on the corner of his desk, he leveled a stern eye on her. "Do me a favor?" She tilted her head, curiosity etching its way across her face. "Tell Rhoda to quit sending her troublemakers up here without warning?"

Her lips twitched downward. "I'll see what I can do."

"Not that we mind being a deterrent," he admitted, a wicked amusement kindling in that handsome face. "Just…a little heads up so I don't have to clean up their mess."

Now her smile blossomed into a bright sunny grin. "That I can definitely arrange."

"Good." Now Chris eyed the files in her hand and sighed. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," she chirped. A bemused frown slid over his face and she held one out to him. "This is a copy of Vin's report. Working through it won't be a problem, but I want to make sure the specifics are correct before I get started."

A real smile glimmered as he accepted the file. "Let me see what I can do." He nodded towards his guest chair. "Give me a few."

Gloria nodded. Snatching a pen and pad from his desk, she began perusing his true file and making notes to help her organize the others for the report summary. Several minutes passed in silence as they worked, but a part of her mind mulled over the enigma of Chris Larabee.

Always a leader of men…always brought into his full leadership potential by tragedy… Of all the men, he pulled most on her heartstrings. Loss seemed to find him time and time again. Sometimes the loss of family and others the loss of home…he rose above his tragedies to become a force of justice.

"And finished," he announced. "The report's a mess – he must have written it before he got any sleep." Chris closed the folder as he stood up. He held it out to her.

"Thank you." She accepted the file, turning to follow him towards the door. "And I believe Agent Standish has a page he will need you to sign in order to complete his file."

"Of course he does." He lifted a brow at her. "What did he try and put on his expense report this time? His cufflinks?"

She blinked. "Cufflinks?"

"He used them somehow to get Vin an open view of the target."

"Your team does make my life interesting," she laughed. "I always enjoy getting to work your files."

They stepped out of the office to find a battle going on. Rubber bands flew from one side of the office to the other as three pairs of agents fought a war with each other. Deep chuckles and light laughter rang through the room along with taunts and sarcastic observations.

She stepped back as a rubber band just missed her nose to strike against Chris' arm.

"Sorry about that, Mrs. Potter." The tone might have been apologetic, but the face held pure mischief as Vin glanced around the corner of the desk where he sheltered from the projectile of his teammates.

"Don't see why you even keep bothering," Chris muttered, fond exasperation glimmering behind the scowl he turned on his grinning men.

Gloria's eyes followed his, sweeping from Josiah to Nathan before skipping over to JD and Buck and then on to Ezra and Vin. Her lashes lowered in a long, slow blink and when she looked up, she saw the ghosts of the men these fellows had once been.

The priest who saved her from superstitious peasants…

The healer who risked his own death to sit beside her ailing children…

The street urchin who led her to safety when riots threatened everyone of noble birth…

The guardsman who carried her daughter out of a burning city…

The spy who brought the warning that saved her patriot husband's life…

The archer who kept her family fed when the king's taxes threatened all of them…

And last but not least, the gunslinger who cared enough about what was right to bring her husband's murderer to justice…

Another blink cleared away the memories and left a soft smile resting on her lips. Affection glowed in her face as she swept them all with one final look before turning towards the door. Her hand on the knob, she glanced back. "Why do I still bother?" she echoed. "Let's just say I'm repaying an old debt…a very old debt."

Bewilderment rose in seven faces as she slipped out of the room and she could only chuckle as she made her way down to the elevator. She knew she had a reputation for being soft on these boys, but that didn't bother her one iota. Those men deserved her support – despite their flaws, their quirks, and all the trouble they could cause on an ordinary day. From the earliest life she could recall, all the way down to this one – Gloria Potter had seen the extent to which the seven of them would go in order to make things right. What else could she do but help them? Sometimes the best heroes needed a helping hand...even when they laughed at very idea of being considered "heroes". Let them laugh – she knew the truth…and she rather liked the idea of being hero support.

It sounded much better than being just a plain old admin.

Even if no one else ever knew.