Disclaimer: The characters of The Magnificent Seven belong to MGM, Mirisch, Trilogy, etc. and are used here
without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. All other characters and locations are purely fictional. Any resemblance to any real person or place is purely coincidental.
Author’s Note: This is an insta-fic that shows 1) things are not always what they seem, 2) we’ll go to great lengths to feed our addictions. Really rough draft, but I felt the need to write something today.
Universe: ATF AU
Characters: Chris, Vin
Feedback: To MMW
Chris didn’t want to believe it, but he was watching the transaction with his own eyes.
He thought back to four days ago when JD had come to him with the information. At the time he had brushed it off. Not only was it ludicrous to think that Vin was using, but what his men did on their time was their business. The team might have only been together for eight weeks, but he would have seen some indication, some sign…
But JD had been adamant. He had seen Vin on a street corner exchanging money for a small package. In that area of town, what else would it be?
Chris had dismissed it, trying to convince himself he didn’t care, trying to convince himself he didn’t feel betrayed by the news, trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter, that Vin wasn’t important to him.
It hadn’t worked.
After three days of watching Vin for any signs of use, Chris knew he had to see the transaction for himself. It had to be that night. Vin had noticed that JD would no longer meet his gaze and had asked Chris if something was wrong.
Chris knew he would have to act.
So, that night he had made his way to Vin’s neighborhood rather than out to his ranch. He parked his truck and waited. Around 9pm, Vin came jogging down the steps of his building and headed off on foot.
Leaving the comfort of his truck, Chris followed, keeping to the shadows where his black clothes made him nearly invisible.
They had gone about three blocks when Vin stopped on the street corner and checked his watch.
Ducking into a doorway, Chris waited. About five minutes after they arrived, an old car pulled up to the curb where Vin waited. He watched as Vin approached the driver’s window and leaned down. After a few words were exchanged he saw Vin pull some cash from his pocket and felt his heart drop as he saw a small bag being passed to Vin.
Sinking back into the shadows, he closed his eyes in denial of what he’d seen. JD’s accusation was true.
“Gonna stay there all night, Cowboy?” Vin’s amusement-tinged voice asked.
Chris opened his eyes, his disappointment in the young man showing clearly. He saw Vin’s smile falter slightly. “Why Vin?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.
Vin tipped his head to the side, brows furrowed. “Why what?” he asked, confused.
Reaching out, he took the small bag from the Texan’s hand and held it out. “Why this?”
Vin looked even more puzzled. With a shrug he responded, “’Cause I don’t have time to go to Jerry’s to pick it up in the morning and this way I can make it at home.”
Chris felt confused. What kind of answer was that? Jerry’s was a well-known coffee-house on the other side of town. What was going on? “What?” he asked.
Vin nodded to the bag. “Coffee. You know, the stuff you drink in the morning?” Seeing Chris nod distractedly, Vin continued, “Well, Ezra brought me a coffee from there once, this real dark roast. I got a real taste for it but don’t have time to stop there in the morning. Bert, one of my friends, works there and each night he brings me enough ground beans to make a pot of coffee for my morning.” Seeing only bafflement as Chris processed the information, Vin continued, “You gotta have it fresh. It’s not quite as good at home as at the store ‘cause I gotta freeze the beans overnight, but it’s a lot better than anything else.”
Chris felt like he’d just had a heavy weight lifted from him. Coffee. It wasn’t drugs; it was coffee. The relief that flooded his system brought a smile to his face. “Coffee,” he said.
Vin nodded and reached for the bag. Taking it from Chris’ grasp he nodded. “Yep.” Turning to head back toward his apartment, he assumed Chris would fall into step beside him. Hearing the tread of boots catching up, he looked over at the blond needing the answer to one question, “So what brings you down here?”
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