Magnificent Seven

"Lil' Ones"

Summary: In this Old West Alternate Universe: JD Dunne is seven, Vin Tanner is eight, and Ezra Standish is nine. All three wind up in Four Corners and all three end up in the care of Chris Larabee, who is the town's sheriff. Buck Wilmington is his deputy, Josiah Sanchez is the town's preacher, and Nathan Jackson is the town's doctor.

Author's Note: I have recently found the M7 "little" universe and absolutely loved it, for the most part. I especially loved the "little" Ezra stories. I must admit I have not actually seen the show, but seeing as how this is an AU story that wouldn't (or shouldn't, anyway) matter. I know enough about the characters to make it work–I hope… This will be a sort of blending of the "Little Britches" universe and the "Little Ezra" universe—with my own twist, of course ;) If you like "kid fics" I'd suggest reading these. They are great.

Warning: Spanking of minors. (Naturally, since this is the Old West.)

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun. Enjoy.

(Now the story really begins… :)

Chapter 9: Ezra P. Standish

The stagecoach pulled into Four Corners in a cloud of dust.

From it stepped an old man, three young women, and a young boy of about nine years old.

For the most part, the adults getting off were all average looking, nothing to gawk at or wonder at, but the boy…

Dressed in a blue suit and vest with shiny black dress shoes, he looked nothing like the children of the town—who tended to wear no shoes when they couldn't help it and were all usually covered in dust from playing or working by noon.

This boy was meticulously clean and as he stepped from the coach he gazed around at the small town with a mixture of confusion and distain.

Ezra P. Standish sighed. Why would Maude want me to come here?

That his mother had wired him and told her to meet him in a strange town in Texas didn't surprise him. She had been living him with nearly perfect strangers for the better part of his young life, and besides…she knew he was more than capable of looking after himself.

That he might, as any other child would, want her love and attention meant very little to her. There was only one thing Maude Standish loved and that was money.

"Here ya go, kid," the stage coach driver said, handing the boy his small carpetbag.

"Thank you, sir," Ezra said, his speech decidedly Southern and meticulously polite. "I thoroughly enjoyed the voyage."

If by enjoy, he said to himself, I meant the bumpy ride, the dirty seats, and horrendous food!

His mother had taught him to be polite, though, even if that meant having to lie. Ezra could lye with a perfectly straight face and not blink an eye once.

The stagecoach driver gave him an odd look, as if to hear a "kid" speak in such a manner confused him.

He probably has only had a third grade education, Ezra decided as he turned away from the stagecoach and headed toward the center of the town.

He was just wondering where he was to find his mother or more likely a place to wait for her when a blur came running out of an alley and plowed right into him. Knocked to the dirt covered street, he gazed up at his attacker in confusion and dismay.

It was a boy of about seven, wearing simple clothing consisting of a cotton shirt and corduroy breeches. He wasn't wearing any shoes and his feet, hands, and face were smudged with dirt.

"Oh, JD," another boy said, as he came out of the alley, "Look what'cha did!"

This boy looked to be about a year older than the first, which meant he was still a year younger than Ezra himself.

"I'm sorry bout that," JD said, reaching down to offer the fallen boy a hand. "Didn't see ya, is all. Me and Vin were playin' tag and he's it."

Ezra refused the offered hand and picked himself up off the ground. Shaking the dust from his clothes, he looked at the two other boys with disdain.

Children, he thought with disgust shaking his head. The fact that he was one himself didn't cross his mind at that moment.

"It is quite all right," he said, still being as polite as possible.

"Did ya just come in on the stage?" the one named Vin, who's hair was considerably longer than the one called JD, asked him.

"Yes, that's correct," Ezra told him, picking up his carpetbag.

"Oh, yer new in town!" JD exclaimed, taking his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "Nice ta meet'cha!"

Ezra quickly tugged back his hand. "Yes," he said, sighing, "thank you."

Vin stepped up and actually held out his hand. "I'm Vin Tanner," he said, "and this here is my brother, JD Dunne." He jerked his thumb at the younger boy.

Ezra didn't take his hand. "I am Ezra P. Standish," he informed them, "it is nice to meet you, as well." Though, he rather felt that it wasn't.

"What's the "P" stand for?" JD asked, curious. "My name's John Daniel, but I don't like it so everybody just calls me "JD"."

"Yes, well," Ezra said, not certain how to respond to that. "My middle name is Phillip. Ezra Phillip Standish."

Vin whistled. "And here I thought me and JD had awful names," he said, without thinking, "but yours takes the cake. Why'd yer folks tack ya with a name like that for?"

Ezra shrugged. "My mother has never deemed it necessary to explain her reasons," he told him.

"Oh," Vin said, and fell silent. He didn't know why, but he got the distinct feeling this kid didn't like them for some reason.

"Did yer ma make ya get dressed up for some reason?" JD asked, gesturing to his suit and clothes. "I hate when Pa makes me get all gussied up."

"These are my regular clothing," Ezra told him, somewhat haughtily.

"Oh," JD said, finally catching on that something was off about the older boy. "Okay."

Ezra sighed. He had grown tired of this ridiculous conversation long ago. "If you gentlemen could direct me the nearest lodging house," he asked, "I would certainly appreciate it."

JD and Vin simply looked at each other. What had he said?

Ezra sighed. Not just children, but uncouth children!

"Could you please show me where I can find a place to spend the night?" he tried again, this time using much simpler vocabulary.

"Oh," Vin said, understanding now. "There's the boarding house, but that's all full up. Miz Inez rents rooms, but yer folks probably won't want ta stay there…"

"Why is that?" Ezra asked, curiously.

"Cuz she runs the saloon," Vin explained, seriously.

"Really?" Ezra asked, grinning. Saloons usually meant drunken men and games of chance; which meant that he could use his rather unique talents to take their money.

"Yep," JD said, "but Miz Inez is super nice and is a great cook!"

"Then that will do nicely," Ezra told them, "I thank you for your help, Masters Dunne and Tanner. Good day." With that, he moved passed them headed in the direction he assumed was the saloon.

"He sure is a strange one, JD," Vin commented to his brother.

"Yep," JD said, grinning mischievously, "but yer still it!" He tagged his brother on the shoulder and took off once more.

Vin grinned, and then ran in hot pursuit.

Ezra never looked back. He had never had any interest in the games of children…even if a small part of him longed to simply be a child and live their care-free existence.

Don't be absurd, he told himself. You were born to be a gentleman and gentleman do not frolic about like hooligans.

It was strange but he could almost hear his mother's voice behind those words. Maude Standish loved money, and she did just about anything to get it…even use her nine year son and Ezra had been trained from an early age to act the part of a wealthy gentleman so that those types of people would believe him to be one of them.

Don't be childish, His mother had once said when he asked to go see a baseball game in St. Louis, you are better than that. We have more important things to do.

That had been the time she had been attempting to con that rather wealthy man into believing Ezra was his illegitimate son…they had failed, unfortunately, and had to move on but he never again asked about "childish" things since then.

"Hello there, son," a deep male voice spoke halting him in his tracks.

He glanced up to see a tall man with deep blue eyes staring down at him. He was also wearing a lawman's badge, which put Ezra instantly on alert. His mother had warned him to stay as far away from lawmen as he could.

Putting on his most innocent smile, he asked, "Good day, sir."

"You just get off the stage, son?" the man asked, curiously.

"Yes, sir," Ezra answered honestly, as he saw no reason to lye about that. He had, after all.

"Yer folks about?" the man asked again, still just seemingly curious.

"I'm meeting my mother here," Ezra told him. "She should be arriving soon."

The man raised an eyebrow. "You by your self?" he asked, seemingly surprised.

"For the moment, Sir," Ezra asked, feeling a bit panicked. "As I said, my mother will be arriving shortly."

The man nodded. "Well," he said, "if you need anything, son, just feel free to stop by the jail. Me and my deputy are always willing to lend a helping hand. I'm Chris Larabee, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Ezra said, purposely not giving his own name, "and thank you for the offer." Not that I am likely to take you up on it…

"Well," Chris said, "I don't suppose you happened to see a couple of little hooligans running about, have you? They'd be about your age or younger. Go by the names JD and Vin?"

"Yes, sir," Ezra said, "they went that way, I believe." He pointed in the direction he assumed the two other boys had run off then.

Chris smiled and tilted his hat to him. "Thank you, son," he said, "and remember, if you need anything just come to the jail. If I'm not there my deputy, Buck Wilmington, will be."

Ezra nodded. "Thank you, sir," he said, and then continued on his way without being too obvious that he was trying to escape.

Chris watched him go, rubbing his chin absently. A child on his own didn't usually bold well, and something seemed off about that kid.

Too clean, too polite, and just a little too smart, he thought to himself, but then shook his head. He was probably just imagining things.

Turning, he headed in the direction his boys had gone. They were to have lunch with Mary and the judge. He still thought he'd keep an eye on that boy, though, just to be on the safe side.

Ezra found the saloon without any problem and went inside. Being the middle of the day, it was of course un-crowded. A rather pretty Hispanic woman manned the bar.

"Well," she said, smiling at him, "hello there."

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said, smiling his most charming smile, "I've come about a room."

Inez raised an eyebrow. "A room?" she asked. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, ma'am," he told her. "My mother is to meet me here and she asked me to get a room for the two of us." That was only partially a lie, as Maude had told him to get a room once he arrived him town.

"I see," Inez said, grinning.

"If it is a matter of currency that you are concerned about," he told her, "I can pay."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the rolled up bills his mother had sent him. He had other money in his carpet bag, of course, but that belonged to his mother and he was not to spend it.

Inez smiled. To hear such adult language and see adult mannerisms pour out forth from a young child both amused and horrified her.

Poor thing, she thought as she took the money and counted out what she usually charged for a room and then divided it in half, he sounds as if he's gotten all the "kid" knocked plum outta him. That such a shame.

"Here you go, son," she said, handing him back the money, "I've gotta room for ya. Got a name, by any chance?"

"Ezra P. Standish, Ma'am," he told her, politely.

"Well, Ezra P. Standish," she told him, smiling. "Welcome to Four Corners."

TBC…