Imagine: The List
Fic posted by members of Vo's Imaginings YahooGroup
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Story Notes:
This is told almost immediately in first person, in the form of thoughts and dialogue.

Look at them, will you

Look at them, will you? Six of the most annoying, stupid, stubborn, pig-headed men that ever lived, too damn stupid to live, and too damn ornery to die. Every damn one of them wearing the faces of men that have been dead for nearly a hundred years. I should know, I was there when the others died. Why I was so damn lucky to be Immortal, I have no idea.


We’re all gathered at the Saloon, celebrating another day of being alive. It wasn’t a hard bust, just one of those damn days that Murphy was so proud of, you know if something can go wrong, it will go wrong kind of days. Personally, I think Murphy was a damn optimist and our fearless leader would shoot the damn man if he ever met him. Wouldn’t do a thing, but it would make Chris feel better. He’s on his third beer, ignoring the doctor’s instructions about mixing alcohol and his medications yet again. Not that he would take them anyway, he’s too damn stubborn for his own good..


It hurts someday, watching them and seeing how much like the others they are. Some of the mannerisms are carbon copies. They are so much like their grandfathers, two or three generations removed, that it’s not funny.


Dammit Buck, I know you’re happy, but you sound like a coyote in a mood when you laugh like that. Yeah, I know you’re happy that the big stockpile of weapons turned out to be a load of toy guns, I was there remember. I also heard Travis ripping team 3 new a-holes for their troubles. Damn bunch of mixed-up information. Six months of work taking down an international gang and it turned out to be a toy company stockpiling a new toy line for shipment overseas. Three teams of ATF agents coming in with their guns drawn, and the warehouse was empty. No injuries, except for Chris’ pride, not to mention his backside, when he missed a step and slid down a flight of stairs. I don’t think the other teams seeing it happen and laughing helped Chris’ mood either. The Larabee glare was in full force after he got back from the emergency room. If looks could kill, the ATF would be short several agents, a dozen secretaries, and one cat.


Gods, what a damn day. I am so tired. I just want to go home and go to sleep. Today has been a very bad day; today is the anniversary of the day my family died. And they might have died again today, and I would have been alone again.


Well, that was an interesting evening. After we were asked to leave the Saloon, we moved the party to Chris’ ranch. The house looks like a bomb exploded in it, and the bodies fell where they collapsed. You’d swear they had been shot through the heart, except for the drunken snores. Thank God Judge Travis gave the team two weeks off. Of course, the fact that Chris threatened to shoot the next sonofabitch who dared say a word might have had something to do with our paid vacations.


Damn, am I the only one who didn’t get shit-faced drunk last night? Oh well, at least I can get a cup of coffee this morning without being poisoned. I don’t think the others would wake up if a marching band came through the living room, followed by a herd of pink elephants.


One, two, three, . . . fifteen empty beer bottles in the recycling bin. Oh, the others are going to be so sick when they wake up. This should be interesting. I wonder who won the drinking contest? I went to bed last night while Buck was dancing on the coffee table. That was something I did not need to see.


I’m outside on the porch getting some air that doesn’t smell like a distillery when the door opens behind me. Chris slumps on the porch swing, holding his head in his hands. His black t-shirt is on inside out, his jeans are bagging around his knees, and his hair is standing straight up.


“It stinks to high heaven in there.”


“Well, the fifteen empty bottles in your recycling bin might have something to do with that.”


“Oh god, I’m gonna kill Buck.”


“Sounds good to me, can I ask why?”


“Because I can.”


I nod, standing up and heading back inside. Chris follows me inside, heading upstairs for a cold shower and aspirin. Moans and groans from the other room tell me the others are waking up.


“Oh, my dear lord.”


Yep, Ez’s awake, and he saw what the others did to him. Guess he shouldn’t have stayed up most of the night drinking with the others. Nothing is more dangerous than five drunk friends and somebody passed out drunk. This is why I locked the bedroom door last night. I did not want to wake up this morning with pink hair.


Ez comes through the kitchen on his way to his bedroom. His hair is streaked purple, green, and hot pink.


“I hope that stuff comes out.”


“It better have, or we will be short two members of the team.”


I make sure the door is shut behind him before laughing myself sick.


There is nothing more amusing than watching six hung over men trying to pretend that they do not have hangovers. I set my mug of coffee down on the table and six men wince in unison at the deafening, to them anyway, sound. Ez has just got out of the shower; his head is wrapped in a towel. There is no way in hell a proper gentleman would be seen in a towel at the table, but I can still see a hint of green hair escaping the towel. It matches his skin tone perfectly.


“Boys, the horses have to be exercised. Anybody up to it?”


“Shut up Chris, and let me die in peace.”


“Can’t do that Buck, I’m gonna kill you myself.”


“That’s decent of ya, pard. Thanks.”


“Will you two please quit bellowing.”


“Shut up, Ez” Five men yell in unison.


I stifle a snicker behind my coffee cup.


“And why are you so damn cheerful this morning?”


“Maybe because I'm the only one who didn't get thrown out of the

Saloon last night, then spend the rest of the night drinking here

until passing out Lord only knows when.”


“And why, pray tell, didn't you join us in drinking the night away?”


“Yesterday was a special day. I didn't feel like getting drunk to

celebrate it.”


“Let's go boys, the horses won't wait forever.”


“You might want to take showers and put some clean clothes on first.

Oh, and Buck? You might want to take Ez's underwear off first.”


“Mr. Wilmington, please take my underwear off this instant.” Ezra says, eyes at half-mast.


“Ez, I ain't got your underwear on. Hell, I ain’t even got my

underwear on.”


Oh, that’s something else I didn’t need to know about ya, Buck.


I walk past Buck on the way out the door, pausing long enough to pull

Ez's underwear off his head.


“Buck, what the hell did you do to your mustache?”


“What, what's wrong with my mustache?” Buck runs for the nearest

bathroom. The scream echoing from the bathroom hurting even my head

as I go out the door. This is going to be a long day. Oh hell, and

it just got longer. Here comes Judge Travis. Wonder what happened

now?


“Good morning, Agent . . ., are our resident troublemakers awake yet?”


“Yes, and they aren’t too happy about either.”


“What happened after I left last night?”


“I have no idea, but Ez’s hair is now tri-colored, and Buck’s mustache has been, well, altered if you will.”


“I been ruined. Who’s going to go out with me now?”


“The same unfortunate mentally deficient women who went out with you previously, Mr. Wilmington? Ow, there is no reason for you to do me physical harm, Mr. Wilmington.”


“Ezra, shut up. Buck, quit your bellyaching. It will grow back . . . eventually.”


“They’re all yours, Judge. I’m going out to work with the horses. Out here all I have to worry about is Peso biting me. In there, someone’s bound to shoot me while I’m laughing myself stupid.”


Judge Travis watches the Immortal stroll across the yard, one hand absently rubbing the tattoo on his left wrist before opening the door and walking into the lion’s den.


“Good morning boys, it’s time to face the music.”


“Judge Travis, what are you doing here?”


“I’m here to talk to you six yahoos about what happened last night at the Saloon.”


“You know about last night?”


“Who do you think helped Agent . . . get you six sorry ass drunks out here last night?”


“He shouldn’t have called you last night.”


“He didn’t have to, I was already at the Saloon and saw everything.”


“Everything?”


“Yes, Agent Wilmington, everything.”


“Oh shit.”


I enter the barn, not bothering to turn on the electric lights. For a moment, I can almost imagine I’m back in the livery, getting ready to go out on patrol. Peso whinnies from his stall and I could almost make out Vin’s tall form taking a saddle from Peso’s back.


‘Hey Vin, how was your patrol?’


‘Quiet. Nettie stopped me on the way back. Everybody’s invited to her place Sunday for dinner.


‘That’s nice.’


‘Give you a chance to see Casey again. Hey JD, hand me that currycomb. JD, JD’


“JD”


“What? Sorry Chris, I was just . . .”


“You were just what? I asked you if you were ready to ride? The others will be right out, that is if Nate and Josiah can drag Buck and Ezra out of hiding”


“Yeah Chris, I’m ready. Today’s a new day.”




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