Title: Whiskey for My Men
Disclaimer: I don't own or have any rights to Magnificent Seven or Toby Keith's song "Whiskey for my Men, Beer for our Horses", blah, blah, you've seen it all before.
Rating: K (very mild language)
Comments: This is my first M7 fic, so please review. It's just a bit of fun that popped into my head on night after listening to the radio and dealing with my own independent-minded horse.
The seven men glanced at each other with apprehension; this was going to be interesting to say the least. As one they swung a leg over their saddles and attempted to dismount as gracefully as possible. Not even Ezra succeeded in holding on to his dignity as they all clung to various parts of their saddles for support. It had been a long two days!
It took a couple of minutes before Chris trusted his legs to keep him off the ground. "Alright boys, lets get these pieces of trash in jail so we can relax. JD, you and Ezra see to the horses. Everyone meet in the saloon in five minutes. Ezra's buyin' the first round."
Standish opened his mouth to object, but quickly decided that it wasn't worth the energy. The short exchange seemed to lighten the mood of the peacekeepers a bit and they set off to their tasks with a slight spring in their step.
However, the extra energy seemed to disappear as quickly as it came. JD and Ezra untacked the seven horses with half closed eyes. The usual brushing and general pampering of the dedicated animals would have to be conducted at a later date.
Ezra had saved his own horse for last. He went through the motions automatically until Chaucer nipped at the shoulder of his dust covered coat. "I'm sorry my dear friend, but I haven't the energy to take care of you properly tonight. Rest assured that I will more than make up for this egregious transgression tomorrow." He gave the beautiful Chestnut one last pat before turning to face an amused JD.
Dunne shook his head in amazement. "Dang Ez, ya talk to that horse like he understands words that most people wouldn't recognize."
"Chaucer is a brilliant creature Mr. Dunne, he never fails to understand my meaning." Ezra mumbled as they left the livery and made their way to the saloon. They met the other five members of their unusual group as they passed the jail.
Dunne raised an eyebrow, "No one staying to guard the prisoners?"
Vin snorted. "Nobody had a knife, so we figured they could stay tied 'til we found one."
"And when, per chance, might that be?"
"Dunno, maybe tomorrow." Quiet snickers passed through the group as no one really had the energy to laugh out loud.
They entered the saloon and went straight for the bar. Inez looked up with a smile, she was always happy when the seven returned in one piece. "What can I get you gentlemen?"
"Whiskey for my men please, Inez."
A silence had fallen over the saloon as Larabee placed his order. Knowing a silent saloon was never a good thing, JD and Vin turned to survey the rest of the saloon. Some how managing to keep a straight face, Tanner turned to face his friend. "Might want to change that order cowboy." The tracker nodded in the direction of the swinging doors.
A quiet, "Ah hell, not again", escaped Ezra as the rest of then men turned to survey the scene that would come to be known in the Clarion as "The Strike".
"Guess he didn't understand your meaning this time, huh Ez?"
It took everyone else a bit longer to regain their voices as they stared at the scene before them. The seven horses, with Chaucer in the lead, stood in the middle of the saloon as though waiting for their drinks. Finally, Chris regained control of his vocal cords and addressed the Spanish barmaid. "Well Inez, I guess he's right, I do need to change my order." Larabee couldn't believe what he was about to say, but what the hell. "Whiskey for my men and… beer for our horses."