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REFLECTION

Denver Colorado has several ATF teams, but none as exemplary as the ATF nicknamed 'Magnificent Seven' by their fellow teams. JD Dunne, the youngest of the high-profile group, but not the youngest ATF teammate in the building, knew he was both needed and welcomed by his friends.

Times like now, though, JD felt that his youth was holding him back. He was still being carded at bars, for heaven's sake! Just because he looked to be fresh out of High School did not mean he was inexperienced in the ugly side of the world. It appeared that his coworkers were judging him on appearance alone, despite the fact that he had helped take down three CrimeBosses selling black-market firearms to local gangs. True, the names and identities of those involved in the survailence and arrest were kept under tight wraps, but at the speed of gossip, someone at the ATF building outside of the M7 team should have put two and two together.

JD stood at the window, staring down eleven stories towards the traffic below. His team was absent, and if District Attorney Orrin Travis knew where they were, he was keeping mum. Teams Six and Eight, normally on speaking terms with Chris Larabee's group (considering they shared a conference room and were each other's back up on several occasions), were staying away from the youngster.

No phone calls, no emails, no texts, no letters (snail mail could take days to arrive), and no messages.

Where was his team? Nathan Jackson took care of them, and Vin Tanner somehow always knew who need a mental-pick-me-up. Same with Josiah Sanchez and Ezra Standish. Buck Wilmington fussed more than what was proper for an adoptive big brother, and Chris Larabee always knew when something was bugging a member of his not-quite-blood family. So why had none of them tried contacting him?

JD Dunne, leaned his head against the window, allowing the black hair to fall into his eyes. It was long enough to cut, perhaps past time to shorten the length, but what was the point, if everybody he looked up to had gone, leaving him alone. Alone, as he'd been when his cancer-ridden mother had finally passed away, after six years of struggling with the chemotherapy, radiation treatments, and surgeries, in an effort to keep her body alive, one more day. The last eighteen months of High School had been some of the worst times of his life, not having anyone to talk to, no one who was willing to listen or offer advice. The only thing that kept him going was his dream of changing lives for the better.

Hazel eyes closed, ignoring the horde of unread emails on his computer. What was the point of going through the motions?

JD pealed his face off the window and looked at the digital clock hanging above the doorway. Three fifteen P.M. He'd been alone for over seven hours. Not one word from the six other men he considered more than friends. He'd thought about calling the hospitals, but what was the use?

Judge Orrin Travis poked his wrinkled-and-well-aged face into Team 7's room. "Mr. Dunne, are you still here?"

JD blinked his eyes, focusing on the aging man. "What's the word?" He stayed where he was, not wanting to get his hopes up.

"Inez Recillos called. Said Casey Wells just arrived at The Saloon, needs to see a familiar, friendly face." A smile that didn't quite reach the DA's eyes, appeared briefly. "I'm authorizing you to leave early today. Come talk with me tomorrow."

JD nodded. "Sure thing, Judge Travis." SIghing again, he looked at the stack of untouched paperwork, and shut down his computer before picking up his things and leaving. How did he forget about Casey? The first girl he liked, and managed to talk to without stuttering? True, she only knew the team through him, but perhaps she could figure out what to do if the Seven remained unreachable.

The drive to The Saloon was uneventful. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as JD remembered as he pulled into the parking lot on his motorcycle. His black-helmet was held under his arm, as he entered the restaurant. Only after he stepped completly inside did the apperance strike him as odd.

Before JD could turn around and peer at the parking-lot, the dim lights blared to life. "SURPRISE!" shouted everyone hidden in the gloom.

His mouth dropped. The now-lit walls were covered with colorful, glittery banners, that spelled out, "Happy Birthday!"

Before JD could recover his bearings, Buck bounded into the entrance and slapped the youngster on the back. "Come on kid, enjoy the party." Cheerfully, almost obnoxiously, Buck dragged JD into the center of the building where a blushing Casey was trying to hide her face with a borrowed menu. "Sorry" the Brunette gal whispered, when the two made eye contact.

There were over twenty people all trying to give their 'well-wishes' to the young man. Some had cards, others did not. There was a huge pile of presents arranged along one wall.

JD shook his head, all the worries forgotten. His anxiety had disappeared too. "I never told anybody when I was born, and I certainly don't need a birthday party!" He tried to escape the center of attention.

The manager of The Saloon, Inez emerged from behind the small crowd. "You might not need a party, but none of us could agree on any one way of acknowledging how important you are to us, so we went with an extravigant party. Anything you order is on the house." She waved a finger at Buck. "He, however, must pay for every drop he drinks."

JD grinned. "Thanks Inez." He looked at Ezra, Chris, Nathan, Josiah, and Vin. "I'm glad nothing happened to you."

Chris took off his cowboy hat and dropped it on JD's head. "We'd get word to you, somehow. You're part of this family. Never forget it."

Labor Day Weekend
September 4th 2011