Gravity Sucks
By Brate
ATF Universe
Chris Larabee pressed his ear against the conference room door.
Plunk.
"Shit."
Plunk. Plunk.
"Shit."
Plunk.
"Goddammit."
Chris tried the door, but it was locked. Knocking, he called, "Tanner, what are you doing in there?"
"Nothin'." Plunk. "Fuck."
"Don't give me that. I haven't heard that much swearing since Buck posted your picture to the online dating service."
"I'm jest tryin' somethin' new."
"I hate to break it to you, but swearing isn't new. Believe me."
"Thanks, cowboy, but swearing is jest a side effect."
"Of what?"
"Nothin'," Vin repeated. Plunk. Plunk.
"Open this door right now."
Chris heard a whispered curse before the door swung open. His eyes took in the scene. Before him stood his team's sharpshooter - a sheepish expression was on his face and his hands were behind his back. Nothing else in the room looked disturbed. "What the hell is going on in here?"
Vin shrugged.
"What are you hiding behind your back?"
"Nothin'."
Larabee held out his hand. "Give." Vin sent him a pleading look that he ignored. "Now."
With a sigh of resignation, Vin brought his hands from behind his back and gave Chris what he had been hiding.
Confused, Larabee looked at the three items in his hand. "What are these?"
"Bean bags," Vin answered.
"Bean bags," Chris restated. "Why do you have bean bags?"
"I'm learnin' how ta juggle."
"Why?"
"It's good for hand/eye coordination," Vin said offhandedly.
"Uh-huh. What's the real reason?"
"Bucklin bet Ez 'n me that we couldn't out-juggle 'im."
"And you took the bet."
Vin nodded.
"Even though you couldn't juggle."
Vin nodded again.
"Carry on," Larabee sighed, handing the bags back to Vin. He closed the door behind him and walked down the hall toward the main office. "As if this place wasn't enough of a circus," he mumbled to himself. Passing the break room, Chris noticed the door was closed. He leaned against it.
Plunk.
"Shit," Ezra said.
To juggle is to find the most difficult way to do the unnecessary.
