By: Ruby

Rating: PG-13  Language

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven is owned by Trilogy, Mirish and MGM. No money is being made. This fanfic is purely for entertainment purposes. The only thing that belongs to me is the word Apastapickle. <g> Not sure you can 'keep' a word, but if so I'll keep this one since it came out of this little pink thing in my head that I like to call a brain. (Actually, sometimes I call it George. You know, as in 'I'm going to love it and hug it and squeeze it and call its name George' ...uh... anyway. ;)

AU: ATF - Thanks, Mog! :)

Author's Notes: First in the series: Apastapickle, Bureau, Bathroom On The Right, Makin' Copies. .

I don't mean to offend anyone's religion. This is all in fun, no harm is meant. So, please, don't read it if you might be offended by my making a bit of fun of religions. It's not betaed. So, please forgive all of my mistakes. And... PLEASE... let me know what you think. Thanks, Ruby :)




By: Ruby

JD glanced up from his computer, his brow furrowed. "You know, I was thinking."

"Thought I smelt smoke." Vin grinned over at him.

"Not a wise decision, Mr. Dunne. Thinking, I mean." Ezra glanced up at him and then back down at his paperwork. "Who knows what the consequences of such a rash act might be."

"Har. Har. Har." JD smirked. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. I was thinking. Wondering, really... Why's it a 'Handbag to Hell?' You know, the quote, 'Handbag straight to Hell.' I mean, a handbag? Why can't it be... oh, I don't know... a roller coaster?" He grinned. "I want to take the Ninja straight to Hell. Or... or... I want to take the Screaming Eagle straight to Hell. I mean, who ever says 'handbag' anymore, anyway?" JD scrunched his mouth tight as he thought about it. Then he asked, "I mean, what *is* a handbag? A purse? Can't say that, can we? 'I'm gonna take a purse straight to Hell.' Just doesn’t have the same ring to it."

Vin leaned back in his chair. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out, "Last handbag leaving for Hell. All aboard! Last handbag! Last handbag leaving for Hell tonight."

JD grinned over at the sharpshooter. Holding his fist up close to his mouth, he talked into it, his voice low, official-sounding. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have now entered Hell. If you'll please return your seats to their upright position and fasten your seatbelts, we will be landing shortly."

"On your left is a boiling pool of lava. On the right, we've got flames, folks - lots of and lots of flames. The temperature at the moment is a balmy 237 degrees," Vin drawled.

"All right Laurel and The Hardy Boys. You can knock it off now." Ezra glared at them.

Vin and JD laughed as they shook their heads at the slightly older agent.

"When I was a kid..." JD rolled his eyes at the look that passed between Vin and Ezra. "When I was *younger*, there was a boy in my class, real religious, talked about Hell." He cocked his head, deep in thought. "Oh, what was his religion? Shoot. What was it...? Hmmmmmm. Oh, yeah. It was..." JD looked from Vin to Ezra. "You know, that religion. You know... oh, what's it called? Apastapickle?"

"A Pasta Pickle?" Ezra's eyes got big as he stared at the young computer whiz.

"Yeah! Apastapickle." JD furrowed his brow as he shook his head. "No, no, that's not right. Apiskapickled?" He glanced at his teammates.

Ezra sat open-mouthed, his eyes wide, his eyebrows raised. "Epis-co-pal?" He spoke the word slowly, enunciating each syllable.

"Yeah! That's it. Episcopal!" A broad smile spread across JD's face. "I knew it was something like that! Thanks, Ez!"

Ezra sat in the exact same position, not one muscle had moved. "A Pasta Pickle??" He asked again, his voice rising an octave.

Vin laughed at Ezra. The undercover agent's face held the same expression it would if, say, he had just seen a small orange alien tap dancing across the office and into the breakroom.

"You knew what I meant." JD waved him off. "So, anywa-"

"A Pasta Pickle?!?" Ezra interrupted him, drawing the words out as he shook his head as though he were deeply and irrevocably offended. "Good Lord, Mr. Dunne. I do believe it would be in your best interests to *not* let Mr. Sanchez ever hear you say that."

"Yeah, JD." Vin jeered. "Shame on you." 

"Oh, like you knew how to say it, Vin!" JD narrowed his eyes at his friend as he threw a pencil at him.

Vin raised his eyebrows as he cocked his head. "I sure as hell knew it wasn't 'Apastapickle.' "

Ezra shook his head. "You were raised Catholic, were you not, Mr. Dunne? I would have hoped you would have acquired more respect for religions."

JD held his hands up defensively. "Oh, I got lots of respect for religions, Ez. 'Specially the ones you can pronounce without straining your tongue or gettin' a headache. And what's wrong with 'Apastapickle,' anyway? I mean, that's a great name for a religion, don't you think?" He glanced from Vin to Ezra and then back.

Vin nodded, his eyebrows high on his head. "Sure, JD. Sure." He rubbed his chin with his thumb as he grinned. "Just not sure what you'd be worshipin', though."

"Pickles?" JD asked.

"Pasta," Vin answered, the corner of his mouth slowly turning up as he nodded his head slightly and looked wistfully at the ceiling. "The great Pasta in the sky."

JD grinned. "Hey, ain't that the name of that little place on Third and Main?"

Vin threw his head back and laughed.

Ezra stared at the two men.

"Well, what *do* they worship at the Episcopal church?" JD asked.

Ezra shook his head. "You should leave your questions regarding religion to Mr. Sanchez, Mr. Dunne. He will, I'm sure, be better equipped to answer your inquires."

"HA! See! You *don't* know. Admit, it. You have no idea what an Episcopal is. It could be a giant snake for all we know. They could be worshiping little green beetles." JD shook his head, his face suddenly morose as he looked down at his desk. He ran his finger and thumb over a scratch in the wood on his desk's top. "So sad. Really. Very sad. People now in days... lennons." He shook his head.

"Lennons?" Ezra asked, eyeing JD as though he were an experiment in a laboratory.

"Yeah, those little animals that follow each other off cliffs. Lennons." JD nodded, self-assured.

Ezra's lip raised in a just-smelt-bad-milk-and-am-about-to-retch sneer. "Might the word you're looking for be 'Lemmings?' "

"That's what I said, isn't it? Jeesh!" JD shook his head as he rolled his eyes at the undercover agent like he'd just lost his head.

Glaring at JD, Ezra growled, a feral sound deep in his throat. He stood quickly, making his chair roll back and away from his desk. He pointed his finger at JD. When he spoke, his voice was wild-sounding. "Having a conversation with you..." he clenched his fists and then actually shook one at Dunne, "is like... is like..." He shook his head fiercely as he scrunched up his nose and then snorted loudly. "I mean... you're a certified genius for God's sake and... and..." his throat made some strange sounds, like he was trying to make words, but couldn't. His fist still shook at JD, his face red and his veins showing. Finally, he threw his hands up in the air, and roared, "Errrrrrrrr!!" Then, he turned and stalked out of the office, into the elevator and out of sight.

JD gaped at the spot where the Southerner had been standing. Slowly, he looked over at Vin, his face innocent. "Was it something I said?" He furrowed his brow as he cocked his head slightly, looking thoughtful, his finger and thumb stroking his chin as he said, "Hmmm. Maybe I should have said those little things were 'Ringos.' "

Vin busted out laughing. He was still chuckling lightly when he shook his head at JD, his face full of admiration. "I hafta admit it, kid. Didn't think you had it in you." He started rolling his chair over to JD's desk.

JD grinned over at him, his eyes bright. "*Never* underestimate a 'genius.'" He smiled as he opened his bottom drawer and pulled out a catalogue, plopping it on his desk. He glanced over when Vin finally rolled up next to his desk.

JD's mouth turned up on one side as he cocked his head towards Standish's desk. "Didn't think we'd *ever* get 'im out of here."

Vin laughed hard, clapping JD on the back.

Both men started flipping the pages of the catalogue, each caught up in what they were looking at.

After a few moments, Vin glanced up at JD and then back down at the pages. "So, what are we gonna get Ez for his birthday?"


November 2002

Read the sequel: Bureau



Comments  Please let me know what you think. I'd love to know.

Back to Ruby's Magnificent Seven Page