Author's Note: This is a one shot with the Magnificent Seven. Why is Casey mad at JD, the question was raised by several readers after my last story, and this is the explanation. Follows behind Ya Never Know Until Ya Check.

Warning: The warning is placed here for vinsmouse, who wanted a spew warning here, claiming it might be a bad idea to drink while reading the funnier parts. So please keep in mind that drinking any kind of beverage while reading this, might be hazzard'ous to the health of your screen.

Disclaimer: I do not own Magnificent Seven, I do not make any money on this. If I did, I would be working my way towards owning them… No harm will ever come to them in my care, that not some of Nathan's skunk juice can't fix….

I Knew I Had Seen It Before

Mary Travis once more glanced at the clock, wishing she could pack it up for the day and return home to her son. However she was busy, she was going through her archive, not even the computer archive but the folders filled with dusty paper. The newspaper was doing a story, one intended to bring awareness to the people. There was always need for that since the people generally seemed not to want to be made aware. At least they wanted to chose themselves what they should be made aware off, and for some reason not everyone wanted to be aware of the fact that there were homeless children on the streets of their own city.

It wasn't just the homeless she wanted to bring attention to, it was really more about how the community tended to view them as if they had committed some kind of a crime by being homeless. What was needed was some way to deal with the problem long termed and not short termed.

A couple of dollar in a cup wouldn't really help anyone very far. What was needed was something more, something that would really help.

Year before while she was still studying to be a reporter she had interviewed a man who tried to do that. He hired on the homeless for the work he needed done and he paid them with a place to stay and with food. He had focused on the younger ones, the ones who hadn't been on the street long and the ones he thought had the best shot at really accomplishing something with their lives.

It had been a very good idea and there had been several cases of success. She had been there to write a report about it. She'd seen several of the youths, taken a few pictures and talked with them. She had written the store and after it was published it seemed to really have been helping but then like with everything good like that it seemed to just fade away.

What she wanted to do now was to find the old story, go over it and figure out how she could go on from it now.

Finally finding it she was glad to know she only had about an hours work before she could go home. Reading it and going over the material, then she opened the envelope that contained the photographs she had taken.

She looked through them and made to put them away but found she couldn't, there had been something there. Something that had caught her eye even if she couldn't think of what it was, so she looked through them again.

There, that was it, one of the youths. She remembered him very clearly. His hair had been long and looked un-kept and wild, but he had been clean and he had been polite. When one of the more tougher street hardened kids had tried to get frisky with her he had intervened. Calmly but firmly, not backing down and not giving an inch. He had looked so young and for a moment she had feared for him, but then she had realized that he was more than capable to look after himself. She had felt sorry for him, a kid like that shouldn't have to deal with such misfortune. He had asked if she was alright, smiled shyly and looked like any teenager in High School who is just finding out about girls.

She hadn't asked him very much, surprisingly enough. She had sensed that he was a more private youth, he didn't want to be put on display so she had respected that, out of gratitude. She'd only asked him if there was anything she could do to help, and he had replied that he thought that was what she was doing. He didn't want her to do more.

It was strange, but she had really felt that she had connected to him, she liked him. She had thought about him for a time, tried to keep an eye out for him but she hadn't spotted him again, and she thought it should have been easy. His jacket sure stood out. It wasn't like anything the other kids like him wore. A leather jacket, but it was made in Native American style. There were fringes and beads, though it was stained and showed many signs of wear. Obviously it was something that he had gotten before he wound up on the streets and it was equally obvious that he treasured it.

It was a most beautiful jacket and it suited him. It really did. For years she had never seen anything quite like it, but she had a feeling that she had done just that more recently.

Then she remembered where it was she had seen something like it, something exactly like it.

The ATF charity sale.

Vin had worn a jacket like that, a jacket exactly like that. She had been wondering why it looked so familiar and now she knew. It was true, his looked to be in much better repair. The broken fringes that showed in the picture were not broken on his. The stains were not there either, and it was all together possible that there were more than one jacket like it.

She remembered that kid, long hair that lay in soft curls, those sweet blue eyes and that shy smile. The soft drawl as he spoke and so gentle and polite.

It wasn't just the jacket that was the same, it was the boy who wore it and she smiled softly. She knew a little about Vin's background, not much but enough. No one had said it straight out but she had always gotten a feeling that there had been something there when he was younger.

Now she knew for sure, that boy so many yeas ago had been Vin. She had never caught his name then but she knew it now and in a way she was glad. He had been a good kid, so sweet and with so much potential. It was great to know that he had been given a chance, that he had been able to really done something with his life. So many gave up, but Vin wasn't a quieter, he never had been and he never would be and she was glad to know it. He had had a rough childhood, had been thrown to the wolves and probably more literally than she cared to think about. He'd made it though, he had overcome any obstacle and she found she loved him all the more for it.

When she wrote her story she wouldn't use that photo, she didn't want him to see it in the paper. She wouldn't tell him about it either. Maybe he remembered her, maybe not, it wasn't really important. What was important was that she remembered him, and knew that he was okay. He had friends now, a family, and that was the only thing that mattered…

The End

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