Rating: PG-13 Violence, Language

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven is owned by Trilogy, Mirish, MGM. No money is being made. This fanfic is purely for entertainment purposes.

Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to Mog for making the AFT/AU and for letting others write in it. :) Thanks to Judy and NotTasha for betaing this story for me. This is not meant to be serious. I'm just having fun.

Sequel to The Handwriting on the Wall


Live Cams  ATF/AU

By: Ruby

"Shoot!" JD cursed loudly, smacking his hand on the top of his desk.

"Dang it, JD! What the hell is your problem?" Buck yelled, grabbing a paper towel to wipe up his spilt coffee.

Vin shook his head at Buck. "Not the kid's fault yer jumpy." The grin spread on the sharpshooter's face as he caught the wadded up paper towel thrown his way.

"What's the matter, JD?" Nathan asked concerned.

"Oh," JD looked down, "well...that ghost wall site isn't up anymore." He looked back up to see the questioning looks on his fellow agent's faces. "You know, that site." Raised eyebrows met his attempt at clarification. "You know," he raised his hands up in the air, "that site. The wall. You know...the brick wall with the ghosts...the writing...the-"

"Oh, yeah," Buck interrupted his roommate. "The turtle!" he chortled.

"Yeah," JD rolled his eyes. "The turtle!" he shook his head in exasperation.

"A turtle, Mr. Dunne?" Ezra smirked.

Nathan chuckled, glancing at Larabee's closed door, then back at the youngest. "Can't believe yer even lookin' at that site again, JD, after what happened last time."

Buck laughed, catching the paper towel that was thrown back at him. "Yeah, kid," he grinned, "didn't'cha learn your lesson?"

"Shut up, Buck." JD glared at his best friend. "And for your information, this is the first time I've been back to the site since..." his face turned red and he narrowed his eyes at the three laughing ATF agents.

"What just happened here?" asked Ezra.

"What in the name of all that is holy are you all talking about?" Josiah inquired.

"Oh, nothin', Josiah," Buck answered, smiling innocently. "Just the kid here's idea of quality sites on the Internet."

"Oh, like you don't-"

"Gentlemen. Gentlemen. Gentlemen." Ezra stood up, his hands in front of him in a placating gesture. "Gentleman, I'm sure that we, as mature adults, can have this conversation quietly, in soft-tones, so as to not incite the wrath of the black-garbed demon from hell." Ezra glanced uneasily at the ATF team leader's door. "Now," his voice was soft, honey-smooth as he walked towards JD's desk, "what, pray tell, is this all about?"

"Well," JD looked up at him, "I used to go to a site. It was a live cam of a brick wall that was supposedly haunted. You could see things on it."

"Turtles," Buck stated.

"Hoffa," Vin added.

"Don't forget the women," Buck reminded, smiling. "Whew!"

"Shut up," JD growled at the two jokesters. Looking back up at Ezra, he sighed. "See, I used to go there sometimes." Shrugging, he looked down, his face sheepish. "You know, just to take a break from all this hard work that we do."

"Ghosts, Mr. Dunne?" Ezra shook his head disapprovingly. "You know, young man, if you're going to 'take a break' from all this hard government work, you could at least do it by watching something worthwhile."

"Like what, Ez?" Buck grinned. "A live cam at a poker table in Vegas?"

"Actually, it's in Reno." Ezra fake-smiled at the ladies man. "And I suppose that you know of something that could possibly be more exciting than a poker game?"

"Sure do. Right here," Buck pulled up a window on his computer screen as his fellow agents gathered around him. "Live. Behind-the-scenes. The making of a monumental movie." Buck grinned wolfishly. "It's educational. It's informative. It's coming to a theater near you. It's...Debbie Does Denver."

JD's mouth dropped open.

"Kid, better cover your eyes!" Josiah laughed, reaching up and placing his large hands over the young man's wide eyes.

"Josiah, let me see," JD cried out, trying to pry the fingers loose.

"You want to see something educational?" Nathan asked, walking over to his computer, the other's following reluctantly. "Here ya go." He pointed to the screen he'd just pulled up. "A live cam at an emergency room in a trauma center."

"Aggh! That's disgusting." JD backed away from the sight.

"What is that? Is that an arm or is that...?" Ezra cocked his head, trying to get a better look.

"See," Nathan pointed out, "here's the spleen."

"Nathan!" JD yelled.

"Boys. Boys." Vin got the agents' attention. "What'cha need to do is get back to nature. Get back to the basics." He clicked his favorite live cam up. "This is it." He sighed wistfully. "Nature at it's purest."



"That is astonishing, Mr. Tanner. Remarkable."

"Hey, that's pretty cool. I like wolves."

"They're in a sanctuary." Vin smiled proudly at the large pack of gray wolves. "Now, that's nature. That's what it's all about."

"Yeah, Vin this sure is neat. Oh, look a bunny. Isn't he cute?" JD's smile suddenly faltered. "Hey, wait! Hey those wolves are going after that bunny. NO! R-u-n  bun-n-y  r-u-u-n-n! Oh, ack! Oh, god all that blood. Oh, that's just disgusting. Oh, god, I'm gonna throw up. Oh man. Oh..."

Josiah pulled a green-tinged JD away from Vin's computer. "What we really need to watch is something 'calming'." Taking a seat, he pulled down his Favorites list, choosing one. "This is what I love." The large man leaned back in his chair, a satisfied look on his face.

"Josiah? What is that?" JD asked.

"Why," the profiler looked up at the young man, surprised, "it's a corn field in Iowa, son. Haven't you ever seen corn?"

"Ah, yeah, Josiah, I've seen corn, but why are you *watching* corn?"

"I'm watching it grow."

"It's growing?" JD asked, puzzled.

"Sure it's growing, and you can watch it." Josiah looked back at the live cam of the field of corn that held absolutely no action whatsoever, then grinned up at JD. "You just have to watch it for a really, really long time."

"Is this heaven?" A quiet voice rasped out.

Five men turned to see the serious look on the sharpshooter's face.

"No, Vin," JD answered. "It's Iowa."


Behind his closed door, Chris Larabee sat quietly at his desk, leaned back in his chair, his feet propped up, hands clasped over his stomach, a wickedly evil grin on his face. On his computer, he watched his own live cam - a live-cam of his six 'hard-working' ATF agents.


the end   July 2001

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