ATF Alternate Universe

Rating: PG - mild language

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings. I don't own the characters (all I really need is just one, just the little guy, is that too much to ask????) This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from it.

Don't go there, kid.

I've been down this road. Please, don't go there.

Chris Larabee sat at a table in the far corner of the bar. It was dark and he was dressed in his usual black, so he was sure the kid didn't know he was there. In fact, he was pretty sure the kid didn't know much of anything at this point.

He'd followed JD Dunne into the bar over an hour ago. And the kid had been drinking ever since.

Don't go there, kid.

Buck Wilmington, the boy's best friend, roommate, partner, mentor, big brother, father, and self-appointed mother-hen, was scared the kid was going to do something reckless.

JD had made a mistake on a bust today . . .

a big mistake . . .

that almost cost the team dearly.

But in the end, things had worked out OK.

But JD didn't see it that way. The kid didn't see things as working out OK at all. He saw himself as a menace to the team. The team that he loved being a part of. The team that was more than just a team to him. The team that was his family.

Buck had wanted to follow the boy. Chris had finally managed to convince the big guy that he'd never be able to just 'follow' the kid. He'd intervene, like always. And right now, that wasn't what JD needed.

JD needed to handle this on his own. Not that Chris was real happy with the way JD was handling it - with a bottle - but he'd decided to wait it out.

After two hours of watching the kid drink, Chris made his move. He sauntered up to the bar and sat on the stool next to JD. "Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

JD turned huge hazel eyes, now alcohol glazed, to face his hero. "Chrissshhhhh. . ." JD smiled. "How 'ya doin'Chrissshhhhh. . ."

"Forget 'bout me, how you doin', kid?" Chris wrapped an arm around the kid's shoulders to keep him steady on the stool.

"Me?" JD wiped his hand across his mouth, the empty glass in his hand falling with a loud 'thud' on the bar. "Me? Oh, I'm fine."

Larabee was tempted to ask the bartender if he'd carded the kid. He was only twenty, after all. Chris figured that since the bartender saw JD come in with the other agents on many occasions, that he'd figured he was of age.

"Well, JD, gotta say, your 'fine' ain't worth shit, kid," Chris grinned.

"That's. . . that's where you're wrong, Chrissshhh . . ." JD slurred. "My fine, is fine." JD's elbow slipped off the edge of the bar and his chin hit hard. "OW!! Shit!!"

"You OK, kid?" Chris picked up the boy's chin and turned his face side-to-side.

"Can't even get drunk without screwin' up. . ." JD laid his head down on the bar.

Larabee took out his wallet, called the bartender over and paid JD's bill. "C'mon, kid." Chris threw JD's arm over his shoulder and helped him off the stool.

"Wha?? Wha'ya'doin', Chrissshhh???"

"Takin' your sorry little ass home, that's what I'm doin'."

"I ain't goin' home. Uh-uh no way." JD pulled away from Larabee and in his inebriated state, his momentum carried him to the floor. The kid was out cold.

"C'mon, kid." Chris pulled JD up and hoisted him over his shoulder. "Ain't got time for this right now, son."

The boy started to stir as Chris carried him out into the cool night air. From his vantage point, all JD could see was the back of Chris' leather jacket. "Whoaa cowhide shoulder ride," JD giggled.

Shit!! Kid's a goofy drunk. Just what I need!!

"Shut up, JD," Chris called over his shoulder as he balanced the kid and tried to get his keys in the door of his pickup.

Larabee finally got the passenger-side door open and flopped the kid down in the seat. JD quickly rolled over on his side and curled up. Chris got in and started the engine.

"Don't wanna go home," JD mumbled.

"Sorry, kid. Home's where you need to be right now. Everyone's there waitin' on the guest of honor."

JD scooted closer to Chris. "No, let's go get another drink."

Don't go there, kid.

"JD, you've been drinkin' for two hours," Chris snapped. "You're gonna be spendin' the next two hours pukin', so let's just get you home before you do that, OK?"

"Sorry." And JD was asleep, his head in Chris's lap.

Chris reached down and stroked the dark hair. The kid was so young. "You just had a bad day, kid. We all have bad days. We'll get'cha through it."

But, just don't go there, kid, OK???


Comments and creative criticism greatly appreciated at:

Continued in Don't Go There, Kid II