TITLE: 7 v. 4
AUTHOR: The Chronicler
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: VERY bad language
UNIVERSE: ATF
CHALLENGE: W.O.W. 07-27-04 -- JINX
SUMMARY: When a shared mission goes bad, J.D. takes the heat. But is he really to blame?
ARCHIVE: Pretty please.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.
EMAIL:
7 v. 4
By The Chronicler
"Hey!"
J.D. spun about. "Grane.... what ha..."
ATF Team Four's chief agent grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up and back, slamming him against his van. "You stupid, little, fuckin' piss ant! You fucked it up! You son of a bitch, you fucked up everything!"
"Get off!" J.D. struggled, trying to push the bigger man back, but was silenced by the delivery of a fist to his gut. He doubled over, air escaping his lungs in a rush.
But the agent yanked him upright, slamming him back again. His big hand wrapped around his throat, pinning him in place, while his free hand slammed J.D. across the face. "MY bust! MY agent! MY snitch! MY.... Damn you, you little crap-in-the-pants! The whole damn thing is so totally fucked up now!"
"Get the hell off of him!" Chris roared, grabbing the agent and throwing him back and away from his man. He stepped in front of J.D., his fists balled up, grinding his teeth.
Released, J.D. slipped to the ground, doubling up, and gasping for air.
"Get out of my way, Larabee!" snarled the agent, slowly rising up. Instantly his team came to stand behind their leader, ready to get Larabee out of the way if that was his command. "That little piss ant is gonna pay for what he did."
"You lay a finger on any of my men an' I'll yank it right off!" Chris warned.
"J.D.!" Josiah cried as he and the rest of Team Seven came on the scene.
"Okay, boys." Buck grinned nervously, coming up to stand between the two team leaders, niether men he would want to anger. "Let's play nice now. We all do' remember that we're on the same side, right?"
"Tell that to that little prick of yours, Wilmington!" snapped off one of Team Four's men. "He nearly got us all killed!"
"Should whip that boy!" another advised.
"Like to see you try." Josiah growled.
"My pleasure." Team Four started forward, but their leader waved them back.
"Our fight isn't with them, you idiots!" His eyes locked on the youngest of Team Seven. "What the hell is he doing playing agent anyhow?" he wanted to know. "Barely out of diapers.... Hell, Larabee, it should be you to get the crap kicked out of. He's a stupid kid! Shoulda never been given a badge, muchless a gun... and trusted with OUR lives!"
Ezra chuckled. He leaned back against the van next to where Nathan was crouched down taking care of J.D. "Age makes little difference, Mr. Grane. You yourself is proof of that well known fact of life."
"What's he talkin' about?" demanded on of his men.
"Hell if I know. Everything off of that silver tongue is bullshit, anyhow." another answered.
With a sigh, Ezra shook his head. "Neanderthals." he complained, before explaining "If wisdom came with age, Mr Grane, you should know better than to jump our Mr. Dune and expect to walk away unscathed."
"Yea!" Buck agreed, though his brow scrunched slightly and he glanced back at the undercover agent for further explanation.
"Fact is," Agent Grane jabbed a finger at J.D. "that kid screwed up and now I have an agent down, a dead snitch, and NO FUCKING BUST! I was shot at and I don't have crap to show for it!"
"We were all shot at." Josiah pointed out.
"Yea? Why ain't you shootin' him?"
Coughing, J.D. grabbed Nathan's arm and pulled himself up. "If Doug had kept his hands off the the mic..."
Grane lunged forward, only to be shoved back by Larabee. "Don't you lay this down at Doug's feet! 'Case you missed it, hiding away in your little tank here, Dougy was shot! He's on his way to the fucking hospital with fingers crossed as his only hope of getting out of here with working legs!" He jabbed a finger at J.D. over Chris' shoulder. "It was your equipment that screwed up! It was your wire that fried! It was your screw up!"
"Doug played the wires out of their socket." J.D. yelled back.
"You scuzzy little rat!" snapped one of Team Four's men. The others raged forward, waving fists, threatening J.D.
Team Seven closed in around their man.
"That is enough!" Agent Grane once again snapped at his men. "We are not gonna take out Team Seven!"
"But.... Dunne..."
Grane's eyes locked on the young agent. "Dunne ain't leaving town." he assured them. "Let them lick their wounds. We got wounds of our own to lick. Dougy's gonna need us." With that, he spun about and lead his men to where their cars waited.
One paused to shake a finger at them. "You keep that jinx of yours away from the hospital... Wouldn't wanting him to fry any of Dougy's wires." he warned.
Buck stomped a foot at him, sending him scrambling after the rest of his team.
When they had gone, Chris turned to J.D. "You okay, kid?"
With a heavy sigh, J.D. leaned back against his van and nodded. He ran a light finger across his split lip.
"Shoulda beat the crap outta those brass horns." Vin growled.
"No." J.D. hurriedly said. "Don't be mad at them. We'd have done the same if it was one of us shot up."
Chris' eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to protest, but J.D. pushed past him and headed for the back of his surveillance van. "'Sides, I should of doubled up on the tape. should of protected the mic better. I knew Doug couldn't ware a wire. He plays with everything! I should of..."
Josiah grabbed his shoulder and turned him around sharply. "It wasn't your fault. You warned him. You warned Grane."
"Well, warnin' him was obviously not enough."
Buck shook his head. "Look, kiddo, Grane knows more about his boys than we ever will. He knew Doug couldn't do the job. He knew what could happen. So, if anyone's at fault..."
"So, if one of us got shot it would be Chris' fault?" J.D. demanded.
"Yes." Chris answered without hesitation. "People screw up, things go bad. Get over it. For those who weren't paying attention, Doug was shot by a bad guy, not an agent! It was bad guys who started this whole damn mess in the first place. And it was bad guys who got away." He jabbed a finger at his youngest agent. "If anyone is gonna get the crap beaten out of him for this shit, it's gonna be that' son of a bitch!" He glanced around at his men. "Anyone care to take time out of whippin' themselves to help get the guys who deserve it?" Not waiting for an answer, he spun about and started for his own truck.
7 v. 4
The End
AUTHOR: The Chronicler
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: VERY bad language
UNIVERSE: ATF
CHALLENGE: W.O.W. 07-27-04 -- JINX
SUMMARY: When a shared mission goes bad, J.D. takes the heat. But is he really to blame?
ARCHIVE: Pretty please.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.
EMAIL:
7 v. 4
By The Chronicler
"Hey!"
J.D. spun about. "Grane.... what ha..."
ATF Team Four's chief agent grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up and back, slamming him against his van. "You stupid, little, fuckin' piss ant! You fucked it up! You son of a bitch, you fucked up everything!"
"Get off!" J.D. struggled, trying to push the bigger man back, but was silenced by the delivery of a fist to his gut. He doubled over, air escaping his lungs in a rush.
But the agent yanked him upright, slamming him back again. His big hand wrapped around his throat, pinning him in place, while his free hand slammed J.D. across the face. "MY bust! MY agent! MY snitch! MY.... Damn you, you little crap-in-the-pants! The whole damn thing is so totally fucked up now!"
"Get the hell off of him!" Chris roared, grabbing the agent and throwing him back and away from his man. He stepped in front of J.D., his fists balled up, grinding his teeth.
Released, J.D. slipped to the ground, doubling up, and gasping for air.
"Get out of my way, Larabee!" snarled the agent, slowly rising up. Instantly his team came to stand behind their leader, ready to get Larabee out of the way if that was his command. "That little piss ant is gonna pay for what he did."
"You lay a finger on any of my men an' I'll yank it right off!" Chris warned.
"J.D.!" Josiah cried as he and the rest of Team Seven came on the scene.
"Okay, boys." Buck grinned nervously, coming up to stand between the two team leaders, niether men he would want to anger. "Let's play nice now. We all do' remember that we're on the same side, right?"
"Tell that to that little prick of yours, Wilmington!" snapped off one of Team Four's men. "He nearly got us all killed!"
"Should whip that boy!" another advised.
"Like to see you try." Josiah growled.
"My pleasure." Team Four started forward, but their leader waved them back.
"Our fight isn't with them, you idiots!" His eyes locked on the youngest of Team Seven. "What the hell is he doing playing agent anyhow?" he wanted to know. "Barely out of diapers.... Hell, Larabee, it should be you to get the crap kicked out of. He's a stupid kid! Shoulda never been given a badge, muchless a gun... and trusted with OUR lives!"
Ezra chuckled. He leaned back against the van next to where Nathan was crouched down taking care of J.D. "Age makes little difference, Mr. Grane. You yourself is proof of that well known fact of life."
"What's he talkin' about?" demanded on of his men.
"Hell if I know. Everything off of that silver tongue is bullshit, anyhow." another answered.
With a sigh, Ezra shook his head. "Neanderthals." he complained, before explaining "If wisdom came with age, Mr Grane, you should know better than to jump our Mr. Dune and expect to walk away unscathed."
"Yea!" Buck agreed, though his brow scrunched slightly and he glanced back at the undercover agent for further explanation.
"Fact is," Agent Grane jabbed a finger at J.D. "that kid screwed up and now I have an agent down, a dead snitch, and NO FUCKING BUST! I was shot at and I don't have crap to show for it!"
"We were all shot at." Josiah pointed out.
"Yea? Why ain't you shootin' him?"
Coughing, J.D. grabbed Nathan's arm and pulled himself up. "If Doug had kept his hands off the the mic..."
Grane lunged forward, only to be shoved back by Larabee. "Don't you lay this down at Doug's feet! 'Case you missed it, hiding away in your little tank here, Dougy was shot! He's on his way to the fucking hospital with fingers crossed as his only hope of getting out of here with working legs!" He jabbed a finger at J.D. over Chris' shoulder. "It was your equipment that screwed up! It was your wire that fried! It was your screw up!"
"Doug played the wires out of their socket." J.D. yelled back.
"You scuzzy little rat!" snapped one of Team Four's men. The others raged forward, waving fists, threatening J.D.
Team Seven closed in around their man.
"That is enough!" Agent Grane once again snapped at his men. "We are not gonna take out Team Seven!"
"But.... Dunne..."
Grane's eyes locked on the young agent. "Dunne ain't leaving town." he assured them. "Let them lick their wounds. We got wounds of our own to lick. Dougy's gonna need us." With that, he spun about and lead his men to where their cars waited.
One paused to shake a finger at them. "You keep that jinx of yours away from the hospital... Wouldn't wanting him to fry any of Dougy's wires." he warned.
Buck stomped a foot at him, sending him scrambling after the rest of his team.
When they had gone, Chris turned to J.D. "You okay, kid?"
With a heavy sigh, J.D. leaned back against his van and nodded. He ran a light finger across his split lip.
"Shoulda beat the crap outta those brass horns." Vin growled.
"No." J.D. hurriedly said. "Don't be mad at them. We'd have done the same if it was one of us shot up."
Chris' eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to protest, but J.D. pushed past him and headed for the back of his surveillance van. "'Sides, I should of doubled up on the tape. should of protected the mic better. I knew Doug couldn't ware a wire. He plays with everything! I should of..."
Josiah grabbed his shoulder and turned him around sharply. "It wasn't your fault. You warned him. You warned Grane."
"Well, warnin' him was obviously not enough."
Buck shook his head. "Look, kiddo, Grane knows more about his boys than we ever will. He knew Doug couldn't do the job. He knew what could happen. So, if anyone's at fault..."
"So, if one of us got shot it would be Chris' fault?" J.D. demanded.
"Yes." Chris answered without hesitation. "People screw up, things go bad. Get over it. For those who weren't paying attention, Doug was shot by a bad guy, not an agent! It was bad guys who started this whole damn mess in the first place. And it was bad guys who got away." He jabbed a finger at his youngest agent. "If anyone is gonna get the crap beaten out of him for this shit, it's gonna be that' son of a bitch!" He glanced around at his men. "Anyone care to take time out of whippin' themselves to help get the guys who deserve it?" Not waiting for an answer, he spun about and started for his own truck.
7 v. 4
The End