Lady Luck

TITLE: Lady Luck
- an prequel-type interlude of "Sometimes, Things Just Happen"
AUTHORS: Lila-Blue Brandybuck and Remadi
FEEDBACK: of any sort is welcome.
DISCLAIMER: We do not own "The Magnificent Seven," the characters or the concept for the show. To the best of our knowledge, it is owned by MGM Television, the Mirisch Corporation and the Trilogy Entertainment Group. We are not making any money off of this work of fiction and have written it purely for the free enjoyment of adult fans and to encourage the continual enjoyment of "The Magnificent Seven" by fans who enjoy this sort of thing. Mog came up with the ATF universe, we are only playing in her very friendly sandbox.
WARNINGS: Home Depot can be a scary place... and so can the results of Muses attacking at 3am. Original Characters. Should really be rated PG because there's no sex of any kind involved here. Sorry... Hopefully, it will amuse anyway.
RATING: PG
SUMMERY: Ezra's townhouse has too many white walls. It must be fixed. Now. This is set in the same universe as "Sometimes, Things Just Happen." See that story for full notes.


Lady Luck
by Lila-Blue Brandybuck and Remadi

It had been two weeks since Ezra moved into his townhouse after coming to Denver, Colorado. The decorator had promised to call back about preliminary sketches within a week, but had not. When Ezra had called her office, her receptionist had said that she'd get back to him. In the mean time, the profusion of neutral everything was driving Ezra out of his mind. Every wall, every tile, every cabinet and fan was white or beige or cream. Most of the house still appeared as if Ezra had not moved in yet. Something had to be done.

Thankfully, the townhouse had come fully wired, cable and wireless internet ready.

Ezra sat on his bed upstairs with his laptop computer and typed "interior house paint" into Google. The first result was behr.com. Ezra vaguely remembered the name from television commercials. He clicked on the link and after glancing over the front page, clicked the "explore color" option. He decided the "browse" option looked like his best bet, since he needed color, but had no idea where to start. The greens were in the center of the screen and he clicked on that color family first. A range of green shades were displayed. He looked them over and the fifth one from the left side of the screen caught his eye. He clicked yet again, and a larger swatch appeared to the right side of the screen along with the color's name. It read "Lady Luck."

Ezra blinked and, when the name still read the same, laughed. What were the odds? "This certainly is my cul-ah."

But how to use it? He looked at the "inspiration" tab, clicked "fashionable" and then "creating a dramatic focal point." After reading through the suggestions, he plotted a course of action.

He went to order a few gallons, but realized quickly that paint could not be ordered online, only samples. He would have to go to the store which sold the paint, Home Depot. "Oh, no..."

If the Home Depots in Colorado were anything like the Home Depots in Georgia, he was going to hate this. He still had no idea how he was going to get the paint on the walls. He'd never done anything like it before. He'd hire someone, but that would take time, and would depend on the responsibility of other people. After the lack of communication with the decorator, Ezra didn't hold out much hope of painters being much better. He wanted it done, quickly and efficiently. That was the whole point.

Come on, Ezra Standish, you're an ATF agent. You can do this.

He got off the bed, after shutting off his laptop, and changed his clothes.

Several dozen minutes later, he arrived at Home Depot, and, sure enough, it was just like the Home Depots in Georgia. Nightmarishly large and crowded, it put him ill at ease. Shaking his head at where desperation had led him, he began looking for the paint section. After walking around for several minutes, he spotted the sign, and soon found the paint swatch he desired. Turning around, he saw there was six or seven people already in line to have paint mixed. "Great!" he muttered, and took a place behind the last person.

Fifteen minutes later, the lady behind the counter called, "Next!" and it was finally his turn.

The only benefit of the long wait had been that he had figured out exactly what he wanted to get. "I'd like two gallons of Behr Premium Interior Paint, eggshell finish, please," he said, as he handed her the swatch, "in 'Lady Luck'."

"Oh, what an accent! Are you from the South or something?" The non-descript young woman of about JD's age wearing an orange Home Depot apron with the name "Amanda" written in permanent marker across the front of it looked smitten.

Doing his best not to cringe, he replied, "Yes, ma'am, I'm from Georgia." She looked like she was going to ask him more questions or otherwise delay the process further, so pushing his usual impeccable manners aside, he cut her off, "The paint, if you please, ma'am. I am in a hurry."

She didn't seem to mind having been cut off, and said, "Oh, of course, right away." She went to fetch the paint and was back within seconds, scanning the swatch information into the computer and setting the mixer going. While waiting for it to finish the process, she leaned on the counter between them. "So what's the paint for?"

Ezra didn't see any reason not to answer her so he told her, "I've just moved into a townhouse and I'm getting tired of white walls."

"Does your wife like green?" she asked, fishing in a not at all obvious way, or so she thought.

Seeing where this was going, but not being able to stop himself, he answered, "I am not married."

"Really?" She studied him even closer than before. "I--" The machine stopped its shaking abruptly, notifying her with a beep that it was done. "Just a sec," she said, smiling apologetically. She picked up the can, put in the second one and repeated the process to mix another gallon. When she came back, she smiled again, coyly this time, as she dipped her finger into the paint, touched the lid, and then sealed it with a rubber mallet. She wiped her finger on her very paint-stained apron and continued, "I *really* like green." Then she pulled out a hair dryer, turned it on, and began drying the paint dot. Raising her voice so she could be heard over the dryer, she asked, "So do you need anything else? Brushes, rollers, tarps, paint trays, tape to protect other surfaces, buckets for clean up?"

Ezra hadn't considered all of that... "Yes... I believe I'll require all of those items."

"Well," she said, "let's just leave this here, and I'll--"

"Oh no, ma'am, please, don't trouble yourself. I'll be back in a moment." He turned away before she could say another word. Sometimes, chivalry had perks for men too.

She sighed, as the mixing machine beeped again and she worked on finishing up Ezra's second gallon of paint, before moving on to the next customer.

Ezra meanwhile was on the painting supplies aisle. He had an orange Home Depot bucket in one hand and had already placed a paint tray and rolled up tarp in it. Now, he was looking over the brushes and rollers. Making his selections, he moved on to the tape. This was more difficult... There were so many different types, for different surfaces, and levels of stickiness. After several minutes of searching, he found one that would adhere to the walls and trim, but not run the risk of ruining the surface.

When Ezra made his way back over to the paint counter, he found his gallons pushed to one side, labeled "Cutie's" with a phone number. He picked up the cans, and before the young woman could catch him, disappeared around a corner, making his way to a cashier.

Having escaped Home Depot with no further delays, Ezra was able to finish the painting by midnight that night. Contrary to popular belief, Ezra was capable of working with his hands, he just did not engage in it but on very select occasions when desperation called for it. Once he had gotten started around noon, he found that the act of spreading color evenly over the smooth surface of the walls very relaxing. The green was so crisp and pure, so perfectly green and such a contrast to the white it was covering that the experience was mesmerizing. Before he knew it, it was past 8 pm and he was still painting, up the stairs and moving on to circle the upstairs hallway. When he fell into bed, he was completely exhausted, but at least when he woke up in the morning, he would have more than white walls at which to stare.


The End