PG-13 Bad language
The Magnificent Seven is owned by Trilogy, Mirish and MGM. No money
is being made. This fanfic is purely for entertainment purposes.
Notes: A huge
thank you to Mog for starting the ATF/AU and letting all of us write
in it. :) Thanks to Judy for betaing for me. Also, I'm still having
e-mail problems. Some of my mail isn't being sent out. So if you've
written to me and haven't heard from me, please let me know.
is a sequel to my story That's
What Friends Are For
You'll need to read that one first or this one won't make any sense
You Want Me To Do WHAT?
and yawning, Slim slid out of his nice, warm bed. After the night
he'd had, he was just glad to wake up alive and in one piece. He
still wasn't quite sure what had happened; one second he was waiting
for his nightly lunch snack and the next he was fighting for his
life. Well, not fighting exactly, more like whimpering and begging
for his life, but he didn't have to let the other guys know that.
What he did know for sure was that his life had been saved, and he
had a blue-eyed, longhaired man to thank for it. He'd have to be much
more careful now. Try and stay out of the tall, terrifying man in
black's sight. Maybe he'd find a new home, one that didn't have
someone so 'scary' that lived there, but he liked this home. He liked
it a lot. 'No,' he decided, 'I'll stay here and be more careful. Much
out onto his web, he took a quick look down to see if his roommate
was in attendance.
How was he going to catch something for lunch (to him, every meal
was lunch) if he had to try and hide his every move? Shaking his
little head, he jumped back into his crack when he heard the loud
sound. The door opened below him and he heard someone walk in.
Larabee? Mr. Tanner informed me that you requested my presence this
morning?" A smooth as honey voice flitted up to Slim.
the scary man replied. "It's Ten o'clock, Ezra. The morning's over."
well, none the less, I am here now."
could almost hear the tall scary man rolling his eyes. Wanting to
see what was going on, he moved farther out onto his web, hoping
beyond hope that the terrifying one didn't see him.
his head, the scary one answered the newcomer. "I have a job
for you to do," the man in black looked up at the man in front
of him and Slim was reminded of that cat that he'd heard stories
about. Being relatively young, Slim had not actually ever seen a cat,
and wasn't quite sure what one looked like. With his mind wandering,
Slim wasn't paying real close attention to what was going on below
him and somehow missed what was said next by the man in black. But,
he couldn't miss the smooth talking man's reply.
want me to do WHAT?"
just told you, Ezra. Do I need to repeat it?" the scary one answered.
Slim yelled out. "Repeat it!" Obviously, neither man heard
him because the order wasn't repeated.
assure you, Sir, I heard you. My mind is just having a hard time
comprehending the words that were said." Slim watched as the
smooth talking man started to pace in front to the scary one's desk,
his hands in the air, his voice high-pitched. "This is... this
is the most outrageous... the most heinous... the most asinine... the
most ludicrous... the mos-"
Scary interrupted. "Are you finished yet?"
Smooth-talking's face was red as he placed his hands on the desk,
palms down. "Finished? Mr. Larabee, I haven't even started yet.
There is no way, and I mean that implicitly, NO WAY that I'm going to
do this job. No, wait, let me rephrase that." He turned,
starting to pace again. "I'll do it. When my cold, dead body is
buried six feet under the ground, I'll do it." His lips curled
back to show his teeth, in what Slim assumed was a smile.
scary one leaned back in his chair, placing his feet up on his desk.
Pulling his suit coat back, he patted his firearm. Smiling big, he
replied, "That can be arranged."
talking walked back over to the desk, leaning down once again with
his palms on the wooden top. His voice was low, throaty, and Slim had
a hard time hearing him. "Mr. Larabee, let me make myself
perfectly clear as to my feelings about your 'job.' I would rather be
gut shot and left to die a slow, painful death in the hot, sweltering
desert. I would rather wear a purple dress and go undercover in a
transvestite gun-running organization. I would rather have sexual
relations with Barney, that talking dinosaur, in full view of every
single person in this entire building. I would rath-"
Standish," the scary one interrupted as he dropped his feet off
the desk and leaned forward, hand still on his gun. "Let *me*
make myself perfectly clear. If you *don't* do this job you'll-
Slim missed the next part of the sentence. A big, juicy fly picked
that second to make itself his lunch. Slim had to rush out and wrap
him up quickly. Before he knew it, the smooth talking man was leaving
the office, door slamming behind him. With a satisfied look on his
face, the scary one smiled, wide and toothy.
Damn. Damn. What just happened? Now, he'd never know. Oh, well,' he
thought, 'at least I have lunch.'
let me know what you think. I'd love to know. Ruby :)