DAY 1: MID MORNING
AUSTIN GUN RANGE
OFFICER KATHRYN TUMLINSON

Kathryn Tumlinson was burning off excess energy at the gun range. Even though she had been a DPS officer for only three years word had come down the pike that there was an opening in the famed Rangers. The moment she heard the news she immediately applied for the coveted position. She knew she had an uphill battle facing her and that spot. Almost 200 other law enforcement officers from around the state were jockeying for that same spot. *They are the best of the best, not to mention a family business,* she thought to herself.

She removed the now empty clip and brought the target up close. “Hmmm, not good enough. Gonna have to do that again,” she muttered.

“Hey Kathy!” someone yelled behind her and through the sound of guns going off.

Kathryn turned in exasperation, “That is NOT my name!” she hissed out.

Officer Paul Stoffer, who ran the police gun range came behind her. He looked at the target and gave a low whistle. She had emptied her latest clip front center. It was a perfect score but Kathryn did not believe it to be so. She wanted better than perfect.

“I guess you wont be satisfied until you can fire all those bullets into the same hole, huh?”

“Maybe,” she answered offhandedly.

“Okay Paul, what’s so important.”

“The FBI wants you.”

The two of them were moving over to the check out/in for the headphones and goggles.

She looked back to Paul. Why in the world would the FBI want me? I’m a local.”

“State police ain’t exactly local, and they also heard of your accuracy with a firearm. One of the teams asked for you personally.”

“You do know I’m applying for that spot that opened in the Rangers.”

“I know and I know why you want that spot.”

“Alright Paul, you got me there.” She gave the officer a grin.

“Everyone in law enforcement knows your family is connected with them. Let me get back to what I was suppose to be telling you.” He paused then continued, “You heard of Larabee?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Well here. I need you to go to the Fed Building and meet him. It seems he wants to talk to you.”

“Oh,” she sounded slightly downcast that this would take her away from the possible spot on the Rangers. Inside her heart was racing, *I can go in and talk to Larabee. If I make the first cut then I can tell him I can’t stay. Then again if I don’t make the first cut then I’ve got a great position.*

Kathryn nodded and headed out of the gun range. Because she was still on duty she still drove a b&w cruiser, she liked this on though. This shift she was driving a camero. She opened the driver side door and settled down into the seat. After putting on her seat-belt she turned on the engine and pulled it out into the north Austin traffic. She hated traffic. She had been in all the major cities in Texas and she knew without a doubt that Austin had the worst traffic. She was tempted to put her lights on to get through the lights but decided not to.

She found the Fed building beside Breckenridge Hospital. Pulling into one of the “Police Only” spots she parked the camero and got out. She entered the building and went through the scanners. After that she went up to the information desk to find Larabee’s office.

After the elevator ride she exited onto the 5th floor she made her way to the FBI offices. She hesitated just outside the door.

“Lookin’ for anyone?” one of the feds asked. He was dressed casually with jeans and a T-shirt.

“Uh, yes. I was looking for Mr. Larabee. He’s expecting me.”

“Sure he answered and rose from his desk. He came up to her, “Name’s Vin Tanner. Yours?”

“Officer Kathryn Tumlinson.” She gave a nervous smile.

Outside Chris’s office Vin knocked softly. There was a muffled answer and Vin opened the door. “Officer Tumlinson,” he commented and left the two.

She slowly stepped inside the office and sat down.

“You know why I had you come in?” Chris asked.

“I think so.”

“Well I’ve seen your record. I need another sharpshooter.”

“Uh, Mr. Larabee, I don’t know if I can stay.”

“Because you’re applying for the Rangers?” he answered her question. “Frankly you have a 1 and 200 chance to get in, and they’re not going to take into consideration you family. Here,” he said and pushed a sheath of papers towards her.

“Am I going to have a partner?” she asked after looking at the transfer request in her hands.

“Yes. Let me call him.” He picked up his phone. “Vin, come in here for a minute.”

Moments later the same agent who met her at the door came into the office. Chris was speaking, “Vin, you’re going to have back-up now.”

“‘Nuther sharpshooter?” he asked casually.

“Yeah, this is Kathryn,” he turned to Kathryn, “and this is Vin Tanner.”

“I know, we met at the door.”

“Let me show you your desk,” he spoke softly as she rose from her chair.

“Kathy or Kathryn?” Chris asked.

“Kathryn.”

“Well Kathryn we’re laid back here, just call me Chris.”

“Okay Chris,” she answered and headed out and back into the bull pen.

VANESSA’S CAFE
Vanessa

Vanessa was staring blankly at the wall as she listened to the droning on of the man on the other end of the line. He was explaining that there was nothing they could about the ice cream today, how it would be taken care of when they could get to it they had enough problems as it was.

"Well, I have problems, too." She said calmly. "Like, I have no ice cream to serve to my customers! I want this fixed TO-DAY! Right now! Or you will have *more* than *enough* problems!" She slammed the phone down, and went out to the front counter. "Becky, if they call back from the ice cream company, it was twenty vanilla, twenty chocolate, and fifteen strawberry."

"Okay."

"How ya doing, sweetie?" Vanessa asked the young girl at the counter. "Need anything?"

"No," The girl shook her head taking another spoonful of her quickly melting banana split.

"K," She smiled. She looked up as the bell on the front door rang. Ashley Sparkes walked in and waved at her. Vanessa waved back and walked over to meet her as she took a seat at the counter.

"Well if it isn't Sparky." She grinned at the woman. "You haven't been around here in a few days."

"I've been working, what do you expect?" Ashley asked.

"A phone call to say 'hey'? Maybe you could drop by and order a coffee. Every penny I make here counts, ya know." She laughed. "So, what can I get you?"

KELLY ALLEN

Kelly stepped into the cool air conditioned interior of Vanessa's Cafe. Pulling her the dark shades from her eyes she spotted Cassy leaning on the jukebox against the far wall.

"How did your pow wow go"Vanessa called from the counter.

Kelly glanced in her direction and a wide smile lit her face when she noticed who was sitting across the from her best friend. Moving to the counter she took up a seat on a stool ,completing the little trio of friends.

"Looks Like your looking at an FBI agent"Kelly replied. Cutting her eyes to the woman on the stool next to her she laughted."Who would have ever thought? How the hell are ya Sparky?"

"I'll let you know in an hour or so. I'm meeting Hackner for lunch," Ashley said.

"Something up?" Vanessa asked.

Ashley shrugged. "Dunno. He sounded pretty pleased with himself when he called, and that's enough to make me nervous." She brushed a dark strand of hair out of her face, vainly trying to tuck it back into the ponytail it had escaped from.

"Well if it's too bad you remember where I keep the Louis, don't you?" Vanessa offered with a grin, referring to the Louisville Slugger she kept near the register.

"Don't tempt me." Ashley grinned at Kelly. "So you're a fed now." She dropped her voice and made an exaggerated show of looking for eavesdroppers, "Welcome to the conspiracy."

"Oh yeah?" Kelly asked, her eyes bright with suppressed laughter. "When do I get to meet Mulder?"

"We only bring him out on the really special occasions," Ashley answered her

"Speaking of being let out, looks like someone forgot to lock the dungeon door again," Vanessa said, indicating the door of the cafe with a nod.

"Wish me luck, ladies," Ashley sighed and turned to greet the man in the doorway.

Rory Hackner was well beyond the age of retirement, and still had a growl and glare that put younger agents firmly back into line. He stayed because after almost 40 years, the bureau really was the only family he had. Long since retired from active case rotation, he now held court in the sub-basement Path lab that was affectionately labeled 'The Dungeon.'

"Hey Rory," She said, dropping uninvited into the chair across from him. "You wanted to see me."

"Ashe." He tipped an imaginary hat in her direction, remnants of manners from an era long gone. "What's the special today?" he asked, ignoring her question. Hackner never gave up information until he was good and ready to part with it.

"Does it matter? You know you'll just order the chili. You have it every time you come in here," she pointed out, fully aware that her impatience would just prolong things.

"Right," he agreed and turned his attention back to the menu.

Ashley sighed and settled back to wait him out. Whatever it was wasn't too urgent, or he'd just come out and tell her. She tapped her fingers absently.

"Don't fidget," he said without looking up. "It lets your suspect know you've got something on your mind."

"When was the last time I interviewed a suspect, Rory? I'm a lab tech, not a cop."

"Agreed," he said, closing the menu with a snap. "You aren't a cop. You're not a lab tech either. You are an agent currently assigned to a lab division."

"Currently?" Ashley didn't like the direction the conversation had taken. "Am I being reassigned?"

Hackner waved Becky over. After having her list the daily specials twice, he ordered chili.

Ashley fought the urge to pound her forehead against the tabletop. Becky turned to her expectantly. Ashley gave her a blank look and a questioning shoulder. Becky tapped the menus she held. Lunch. Right. Ashley ordered quickly and turned her attention back to Hackner. "So?" she asked, her expressive blue eyes demanding an answer.

"You know we're still operating under a hiring freeze, right?" his voice was light, casual in a way that Ashley recognized as boding no good news.

"Yeah. What's that got to do with me? I already have a job."

"When you were hired we had a full budget. That's how we justified the specialized unit and your position. Word came down today. When I go, so does the unit. Our personnel and equipment will be divided amongst the regular forensic teams."

"Except me," she said. "I mean that is why we're having this conversation, right?"

"Except you," he agreed.

"So I'm being fired?"

He handed her a thick white envelope. "Not exactly. You're a fully trained agent, the Bureau doesn't want to waste that. But they can't justify leaving you on my unit any longer. Not with the ATF pitching a fit every time we so much as glance at a fire." The pleased note was back. "I had to call in some favors, but the timing was really lucky. Larabee has been given the go ahead to supplement his team, and I managed to get you a position. He's the best. If anyone can make an agent of you, it's him."

Ashley slowly opened the envelope, the heavy paper felt rough under sensitive fingertips. Her future- signed, sealed, and transferred, was written on those pages. Everything neatly arranged and signed off before anyone bothered to ask what she wanted.

Hackner seemed to know where her thoughts were going. "I'm sorry. There was a limited timeframe, I had to act quickly. This really is a great opportunity for you. Larabee's team gets special consideration. A successful tour with them, and your ticket is written anywhere in the Bureau. You report first thing Monday morning. The rest of the afternoon is yours to get your desk cleared."

The meal arrived, interrupting any further advice he might have offered. The conversation as they ate focused on how to distribute her caseload among the remaining techs.

Hackner finished his chili and stood. "Ashe, it's been a pleasure working with you. And just 'cause you got the call, doesn't mean you have to be a stranger."

She smiled and shook the hand he offered. "Wouldn't dream of it. So. Larabee, huh? His team as good as rumor paints them?"

"Probably better. I need to go check over the Walther case before Adam sends it upstairs. I'll see you. And a word of advice, spend some time at the range this weekend." He saw her rising protest and stilled it with a wave of his hand. "You'll have to get used to carrying your gun all the time. You're not gonna be a Lab Rat anymore."

"Lab Rat to Cannon Fodder in one easy step. I must be doing something right," Ashley said, trying to hide just how dismayed she was by the move.

"You'll be fine. I trained you after all." He looked for a moment like he wanted to say something else, but instead he pulled on his suit jacket and turned to leave.

Ashley stood there for a moment, still slightly stunned. Transferred. Just like that. "Well, hell."

DAY 1: LATE AM
AUSTIN FBI TEAM 7 Office

Kathryn sat down at her new desk. It was severe in what it held. If she was going to stay for any length of time she would make short work of that. She could not work with a clean desk, she thrived on clutter. She did her best work with a complete disaster in front of her.

After she finished filling out the transfer papers she realized she still had the camero crusier in the parking lot. "Great!" she hissed between her teeth. She got up and headed back to Chris's office with the completed transfer request.

"Chris?" she asked as she opened the door up farther.

"What is it?" he asked easily.

"I'm going to have to go back to headquarters. You see I'm driving a cruiser and it's in the parking lot. Since I've finished filling out the transfer I need to get state property back to the lot."

"Just leave the transfer request on my desk and you can go."

"Here," she answered as she handed the papers to Chris. "I'll be back in a little bit," she commented as she left his office.

Passing her new desk Vin called out, "Where y'goin'?"

"I'm drivin' a cruiser. Since it looks like I'll be stayin' for a while I need to turn state property back in. Don't worry I'll be back." She gave him a small smile and darted out of the office and back to the elevators.

Outside the building she breathed a sigh of relief. She did not know what it was but her heart was pounding. She went back over to the cruiser and got back in. After pulling out of the parking lot she headed back to DPS headquarters.

When she entered the office someone from the bull-pen called, "Hey Tummy! What're y'doin' in so early?"

"Doug, it looks like the fibby's want my shooting. They're working on transfering me." she said with exasperation.

"Hey guys! Guess what! Tummy's gonna be a fibby!" he yelled across the room.

The response got the whole bull-pen to get her cat calls.

"Oh just shut-up will ya!" she called back to the group. She went over to the car log in sheet and put the number of the camero down and the keys on their hook. She looked over to her desk and commented, "It's gonna take some time to get that thing cleaned out and get the cases turned over to other officers."

She went over to her supervisors office and went in.

"I just received a transfer notification Kathryn. You want to tell me what's up?" Tom Stovall asked.

"Actually I have no idea what's happening. I was on my break and down at the range when I got the call to head over to the Fed building. It seems that Larabee wants me on his team."

"Well before you can do anything we need your casework," he commented.

"I know, I know. Look can I keep my desk here while working out of the Fed building while the transfer's going through the channels?"

"Sure, I don't see why not. How about you coming in after hours and we can work on getting your cases transfered."

"Sure, and Tom, can I keep my badge till the transfers complete?" she asked.

"Well since this isn't a department to department change, I don't see why not. You have to resign your commision here with the DPS," he answered.

Tom looked back up at her, "Well Kathryn, good luck." He stood up and shook her hand. "It's been a pleasure to have you under me."

"Thank you, sir. I've enjoyed it also." She shook the offered hand and headed back out of the office.

She left the bull-pen and headed towards the women's locker room. Once in she changed into her street cloths. She cleaned out her locker and headed towards the front. After retreiving her colt she went back to her older model Civic. She started it up and headed back to the Federal Building. Outside the door to her new office she hesitated again, not really sure she should be there. Taking a deep breath she headed back in and sat down at her severely clean desk.

DAY1: EARLY PM
SPORTS CENTRE
AGENT TEMPEST DUMAURIER

Tempest stood at the chalk basin and chalked her hands, smiling fondly at her memories. Almost four years ago she had given up the life that she had been born to, to take up a new career. A career that didn’t allow for the perpetual training that even a part time participation would require. So now she turned to the equipment that was her lifelong friend when she needed to release the stresses of her work, or when she was worried.

Today it was a combination of both. She took her run up and swung lithely and gracefully through the uneven bars routine that she had performed at the Atlanta Olympics. A routine that had placed her in the finals and finally left her at sixth best in the Olympic world. A smile curved her face as she swung lithely through the routine, a routine that she had practised and performed so many times it was still second nature to her. Her mind clearing and the tension flowing from her body in therapeutic release. Landing after a double twisting pike dismount from the bars, and presenting to an unseen crowd, she inhaled deeply and turned towards her favourite apparatus. The balance beam.

Smoothly swinging onto the beam she worked it like it was an old friend, her body falling into the rhythm of her movements. Her balance as easy as if she was walking on even ground not a beam barely wider than her feet. As she performed flawless walkovers and intricate balletic gestures, her mind went back over the last few days. Deeply involved in her own personal investigations, her old team leader had deliberately transferred her to a new team. She knew it was to keep her out of trouble. She knew that she was going against all the rules of her employment but she was sure that her missing friend had met with foul play. She just couldn’t prove how.

Just when she thought life couldn’t get any worse, she found she was transferred to a team that was legendary in Austin. A team with one of the best conviction records throughout the whole FBI. A team renowned for their independence and their closed ranks when it came to working with outsiders. A team that quiet frankly almost frightened her. Her head clearer know she worked towards the end of the beam and performed a flawless somersaulting dismount. Presenting the non present judges once more, she was startled by the sounds of clapping from behind her.

Turning startled eyes to the source of the sound she was surprised to see her new partner standing just off the floor area, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you are?” Ezra spoke softly

“You didn’t ask” she shrugged as she walked towards her towel and gym bag “Besides its not important”

“You were familiar but I didn’t realise where from until I saw your routine” he stated

“I wasn’t exactly a household name” she muttered as she walked towards him

“Indeed” he spoke softly “But your grace was exquisite”

“Not good enough” she stated “Why are you here?” she turned on her partner of two weeks suddenly conscious of the perspiration damp leotard that clung lovingly to her trim body.

“Our esteemed leader has called a meeting, when you failed to respond to his summons I thought I would attempt to locate you”

“Well Apparently Mr Standish you have succeeded” she answered coldly “Pray do I have time for a shower before you expect me to attend the meeting” casting her eyes derisively down his designer suit “or would you prefer it if I go like this”

”Bye all means” Ezra smiled “shower and change Stormy” he used the hated nickname Buck had given her

Tempest bit back her sharp retort at the hated name, realising that her own attitude was indeed her own downfall. Her own insecurity at becoming part of the famed team had caused her to become cold and aggressive, she knew that she would have to try to be friendlier or she would be tagged as a cold hard bitch, that was not the Tempest that she knew that she really was.

DAY 1: LATE AFTERNOON
AUSTIN TEAM 7 OFFICES
AGENT JOHN D MATTHEWS

John D. Mathews surveyed the office area as he stepped off the elevator. One FBI office was looking just like any other office in his mind. He could predict the layout. Desks set up back to back, or maybe one variation would have them all in cubicles. But it rarely varied from those two choices. There would be an office to the back of the bullpen area that housed the Agent in charge. In this case a man by the name of Chris Larabee.

John's eyes ran over the bullpen, taking in the Agents already gathered there. Some looked up and acknowledged him,, like the man' with the longish brown hair and crystal blue eyes. That man studied him, read him, in just one simple glance. John knew that was the sharpshooter, Vin Tanner.

Nearby was a well dressed man with slightly wavy brown hair and very green eyes. John also knew that this was Ezra Standish. Glancing over the desks as he made his way to the back office, John was able to identify each Agent there. He had read and re-read each file, knew their strengths, knew their weaknesses.

The big man with the grey hair in back, looking like he could put his fist through his computer terminal at any moment was Josiah Sanchez. The tall African American that came walking from the break room with a cup of coffee and a sheath of papers in hand was Nathan Jackson. An equally tall man with dark hair, a mustache and deep blue eyes was talking on the phone, jotting notes as he did. That would be Buck Wilmington.

And the young man with the black hair, sporting a backward baseball cap was JD. It had been a long time since he had seen the boy. As his eyes darted over the boy, JD turned to help Josiah with the computer terminal. JD's eyes met his briefly, his mouth dropping open slightly in surprise. John just winked at him and continued on to the back office.

Entering at the muffled "Yeah" John moved into the room and stood in front of the desk of Chris Larabee. Larabee was well known as one of the best Team leaders the FBI had. While his men seemed to have racked up an impressive list of injuries, they also had the record for most number of cases solved. Major cases solved. It had been enough for John to have taken notice.

Chris finally looked up from his papers, expecting, most likely, one of his own agents. John noticed just a flash of surprise before Chris' face returned to what John took as his 'business as usual' look.

"Can I help you?" Chris said, leaning back slightly. John knew that this also put the man closer to the gun resting in his shoulder harness.

"Name's Agent John D. Mathews." John flashed the ID clipped onto his pocket. ”I've been sent here by Washington to work with you and your agents on your new case. This should explain everything." John pulled a folder out of his satchel and handed it to Chris.

The blond man read over the files inside, glancing up to look at John occasionally where he had taken a seat across from Chris. John knew that Chris was studying him even as he read the file.

John stood an even six-foot tall, had black hair and pale greenish eyes that often picked up a great deal of brown. He wore black pleated Dockers, a white shirt and a suede jacket over his shoulder harness. He also had a piece in the small of his back and was known to wear one strapped to the inside of his left calf.

"Let me assure you Agent Larabee. This is your case. I am here to assist and advise only. Treat me as one of your own agents and we'll get along just fine."

"I've heard of you," Larabee growled. "Heard you were good. But I've also heard you've broken up a few teams."

"I am not here in that capacity. The teams you refer to were corrupt. I'm not at liberty to discuss them, but shall we just say that they should not have existed in the first place. And the agents should never have moved as high as they did within the Bureau."

"Your team, Agent Larabee, has earned a respectable record. I'm here to learn. I'm also here because I worked a similar case a few years back. The Bureau thought that I might be of some use."

"Very well, Agent Mathews. I hope you don't mind if I believe your sincerity at a later time. Right now, I prefer to be cautious of you."

"I would expect nothing less."

"There's an empty office down the way. The men sometimes use it when they need some quiet phone time. It's yours."

"Would you mind if I took a desk in the bullpen instead?"

"Suit yourself. Look, it's quitting time and the men and I usually go out for a drink on Friday nights. You're welcome to join us."

"I'd like the chance to get to know your agents." John said as he stood and moved toward the door, Chris right behind him.

"Hell, I just want to keep my eye on you." Chris muttered as he grabbed his coat and followed. Several of the men were already heading to the elevators. One or two others were wrapping up a few loose ends and told Chris they'd be along shortly. JD found himself riding down in the same elevator as Chris, Buck, Vin and his uncle. Chris introduced them on the ride down.

When they entered the garage, Chris started to give the new man directions to their favorite hang out.

"I'll ride with him." JD suddenly offered. "It would be easier than him trying to find it or follow one of you. I know how you all drive."

Chris looked at John, asking the silent question.

"It's fine with me. I'm parked right over here." The small group broke up and moved to each individual's car. Both John and JD were silent until they had pulled into traffic.

"Before you say anything JD, I didn't know you were here until after I was given the assignment. I didn't even know you had joined the Bureau. Apparently they didn't bother telling me when they did your back ground check."

"I thought it was pretty strange you didn't call or anything when I got in. So what are you doing here Uncle John? And does Chris know you're my uncle?"

"I didn't tell him. If you want him to know, you can tell him. I'm here to help with a case. Nothing more."

They rode on in silence for a time, the only sound was when JD would tell John to turn or change lanes. John finally broke the quiet.

"I've read the files on Team 7, JD. I want to tell you how proud I am of your part. You've done well." John reached over and placed his hand on JD's shoulder.

"Really?" JD was surprised. Praise coming from this man was very heady stuff. His uncle was the reason JD had wanted to join the FBI in the first place. "Wow! Thanks Uncle John."

"JD? If you don't want anyone to know I'm your uncle you're going to have to call me John." John chuckled as they pulled up in front of the bar.

"Okay Un…I mean John," JD replied as he climbed out of the Blazer. "That will take a little getting used to."

The two men walked inside and joined the rest of Team 7.

AGENT KATHRYN TUMLINSON

Kathryn had been busy with getting her new computer set up exactly right when another, what looked like agent, stepped into the office. She covertly watched Vin look up and read the apparrent visitor before going back to his work. She pushed out of her mind the older man and set back to work again. She realized the work was not much different from her DPS investigations.

She looked at her watch and noticed the time. She looked back up and saw Vin was finishing up. “We normally go out on Fridays. You’re welcome to join us,” he commented.

“Um, maybe for a little bit, Vin. I have to go back to my other bull-pen and start working on cleaning out my desk and getting my files transfered to other officers.”

“Since it’s Friday, why not do it over the weekend?” he offered.

She thought over his offer for a couple of minutes then made her decision. “Give me a few, okay?”

“Sure,” he turned to Chris near the doorway, “Be there in a few.” Chris nodded and headed out the doorway with some of the other agents.

“Tom?” Kathryn asked into the phone. “Yeah, I’m fine.......I won’t be able to come over to the pen tonight.......The agents usually get together Friday evenings.........Yeah, I can come in over the weekend.........okay, see you then, bye.” She waited for a minute then hung up the phone. “Okay, I’m ready,” she commented as she turned off her computer and stood up to leave the office.

“Y’know where the Saloon is?” he asked as they left the office.

“Yeah, never been in there though,” she answered. “Should be interesting though,” she grinned.

“Can be,” he answered criptically.

They both went in Vin’s jeep. He asked after a minute, “What’s your score?”

“Huh?” she answered slightly confused.

“On the range, what’s your score?”

“Not good enough,” she mumbled.

“That doesn’t tell me what ya got.”

“98,” she mumbled.

Vin eye’s opened in surprise. “That’s not something to be ashamed about,” he answered as they pulled into the parking lot of the Saloon.

They entered and found several of the agents already seated around their table of choice and joined them there.

KELLY’s RANCH

KELLY AND ASHLEY

Kelly lounged in one of the various lawn chairs scattered around the wide deck. Looking up from time to time towards the pasture beyond the barn. Cassy took turn after turn on her sorrel mare around the trio of barrels. Kelly had long ago left the barrels to be reclaimed by the weeds and the weather. Barrel racing had been a passion with her from an early age but once she had been assigned to S.W.A.T. There had been little time for the long hours of practice the skill demanded.

"She's real good.Almost as good as you were".

Kelly turned her head and laughed. "Almost but not quite". Kelly stood and walked towards the sliding door. "Want another beer Ash?"

"Nope,I'm fine for now"Ashley replied,lifting the half full Coors bottle.

Kelly returned moments later with a chilled beer in one hand and a platter balanced on the other. Thick slabs of beef were quickly tossed on the grill accompanied by a chorus of sizzling.

Kelly glanced over at Ash. "Hey cheer up it can't be that bad. Hell it's a good opportunity. I mean your an FBI field agent now not stuck in some lab".

Kelly returned to the lazy comfort of the lawn chair and starred out at the setting sun.