Main Characters: J.D. Dunne, Buck Wilmington
Disclaimer: These Characters do not belong to me (but if they did, I'D share... probably.) That said, this story was written purely for self entertainment and no money is being made, has changed hands, or has been paid out for the contents therein. The Author wishes to thank MOG for the ATF AU, she came up with it, and graciously lets others play there. Special thanks to my Beta, "S", (who has threatened me with a Death by Larabee-Glare if I mention her by more than that); it's totally her fault that I got into fan fiction in the first place. Without her encouragement (nagging), constructive criticism, and long talks on characterization, I might still be writing pathetically depressing purple poetry, and what prose I did write, would NEVER be finished...
~Constructive Criticism will be graciously accepted
~Flames will be used to toast marshmallows
Dammit, Buck! You gotta stop doing things like that! You could've got yourself killed!
We got lucky, this time. The doctor says you're gonna be just fine. But dammit, Buck, if you hadn't tripped over my foot as you pushed me down... I saw the sketches of the scene, calculated the trajectories. I was low enough that bullet would have missed me. Ok, maybe only by about an inch or two, but it would have missed! But you... Running at me with your head down like that... Well, Buck if you hadn't tripped, that bullet would have gone right through your head. Right through. Maybe even ear to ear so we could all see how empty it is. I know you, Buck. You're going to tell everyone that you made a diving tackle and pushed me out of the way. But we both know you tripped, and I have the bruise on my foot to prove it. So technically, I saved you today, Buck.
When you wake up, Chris is gonna kill you. He's out there right now, pacing the floor with the rest of the guys. You put yourself in danger to save someone who didn't need saving, and when you got hurt, well... let's just say when he gets done with you, I'M going to be up for team leader before you are.
Buck, you gotta stop doing things like that. I mean, I'm not a kid. I am a federal agent of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. With all the rights and responsibilities thereof. Don't get me wrong, ok? I like being your little brother. I kinda like knowing that you're looking over my shoulder. That if I get into trouble, I can always go to you, and you'll help, no questions asked. Yeah, yeah, I know after you help me you'll demand the whole story. And you'll nag, probably multiple times, until you get it, and I'll complain that I'm a grown man who doesn't need a babysitter. And while all of that is true, I kinda like knowing someone cares enough to nag and lecture. But that's the everyday stuff.
When we're on a job, in the field, on a bust, wherever, you gotta treat me like a grownup. Like the agent I am. You have to trust me to back you up, trust that I can back you up, and do my job, and don't need to be treated like a green kid that doesn't know anything. Or I'll resign or transfer to another team if I have to. And you know that I will. And you know that Travis and Chris would let me, if it kept someone from gettin' killed. How're you gonna feel if someone gets killed because you were too busy watchin' over me?
I couldn't live with that, Buck. Maybe it won't be today. Maybe it won't even be you. But how're you gonna feel if Chris or Nathan or one of the others gets killed on a bust because you were so busy hoverin' over me, you weren't there to back him up? How would YOU live with that? Huh?
Chris finished tallying up the reports a little while ago, Buck. Well, all the reports except yours. But don't worry; if you want to dictate it to me, I'll have that typed up and ready for you to sign when you get out. You'll just have to add your statement and sign off on it. And I guess the other guys saw I was popping up to take a shot when you took me down. You just saw it first. Well, you and Vin, but he was up in the rafters, and kinda busy. So maybe you did save my ass today, Buck. Ok, again. But you could have shouted a warning! I mean, that's why we wear the headphones, right? It's not like I keep them in good working order just to catch the baseball scores on them. You could have had someone else take the shot, told me duck, done something other than putting yourself in the line of fire to save my life. But dammit Buck you almost lost yours doin' it!
Ya gotta be more careful, alright? Promise me. Because you're my big brother. And I don't wanna have to figure out what I'd do if I lost you.