Seminar

"... and so, by simple deduction, I solved what some might refer to as an impossible case."

Ezra yawned, bored. He hated seminars. He especially hated seminars if the speaker was long-winded and incredibly dull. He eyed his watch hopefully, and was disappointed to discover that the talk was scheduled to run for another hour. At least Chris always made his lectures interesting, he mused. With this thought, Ezra glanced sideways at his boss, wondering how he was coping. To his astonishment, Chris was watching the speaker thoughtfully, the very picture of intense concentration. Ezra frowned. Surely he couldn't be listening to this cretin? The man was an idiot, a paper-pushing desk jockey that had, it seemed, never actually left his office except to give tiresome speeches on how brilliant he was!

Disturbed, Ezra allowed his gaze to travel past Chris, to the other members of his team, just to make sure he wasn't the only one ready to cry if this tedious torture didn't end soon. He was - it seemed that the others had all devised some sort of entertainment. Buck and JD were furtively elbowing one another, trying to muffle their laughter so as not to attract the attention of the team leader. Josiah was surreptitiously reading a book he had brought along, Nathan was quietly fiddling with his watch, which had stopped working just as they arrived, and Vin was asleep, chair tilted slightly backwards, feet propped on the seat in front of him, much to the distaste of the treasury agent occupying it.

Ezra reluctantly dragged his attention back to the podium, where the speaker was explaining how it was possible to deduce who had perpetrated a certain crime by intensive examination of any and all clues, without actually having to move from the office. Ezra rolled his eyes, shook his head. An FBI agent sitting next to him elbowed him sharply, and gave him a glare intended to intimidate him into sitting still, but it had nothing compared to what Chris could do with a simple look when he got mad. Ezra stuck out his tongue.

Standish twiddled his thumbs for a second before deciding that boredom could be held off in this way for only so long before he would be forced to draw his gun and blow his brains out, out of sheer desperation. Better yet, he could shoot the simpleton on stage... Next time he'd bring a book, like Josiah. He was a smart guy, was Josiah, people could learn a lot from him.

Suddenly Ezra realized that he had a pack of cards in his pocket. He drew out the box carefully, glanced at Chris - who was still listening intently - and, pulling out the cards, began to see if he could produce any card he wanted to. Six of clubs... gotcha. Ace of spades, his calling card... yup. Four of diamonds... yes! Ezra smiled in satisfaction. The smile was quickly wiped off when he pulled out a two of hearts instead of a three.

"Damn," he muttered, earning himself another disgusted look from the FBI agent, which only made him smile again.

"...fortunately, the invention of the telephone and its subsequent worldwide usage effectively resolved this problem, and nowadays..."

The undercover man sighed heavily, and looked down at his cards again. Now, if he put half the deck in this hand like *this*, and half of the other half in this hand like *this*, and the rest between these fingers like *that*, then if he moved his fingers like *this* he should be able to - oops. Ezra watched, horrified, as his pack of cards went flying all over the place - or, more correctly, all over Chris. He cringed. Chris, however, hardly seemed to notice. His gaze didn't waver from the speaker as he carefully swept a hand across his shirt, sending all the cards to the ground, before holding something out to Ezra.

Ezra took the proffered object and looked at it. Ace of spades. He stared at Chris in surprise for a moment, then hurriedly put the card in his pocket. He seemed to have escaped punishment, but now he had nothing to play with - er, that is to say, nothing to, uh, occupy his intellect. He twiddled his thumbs some more, then looked jealously at Josiah, trying to see which book he was reading. He craned his neck, tilted his head to the side, did all but stand on his head, but couldn't make out the title. He sat back again, resigned to living out the rest of his life waiting for this speech to end.

Perhaps he had died, and this was hell... He pondered this for a while, and decided that if he were in hell, his teammates would be having a much better time than him, and this no longer seemed to be the case, except for Buck and JD. The kid had produced a Gameboy, and was silently fighting with Buck over who got to use it first. They were both extremely red from trying not to laugh. Nathan had either fixed his watch or given up on it - either way, it was back on his wrist - and he was silently hitting his head with his open palm. Ezra caught his eye, nodded his agreement with the sentiments conveyed by this action, and put his hands around his neck, pretending to strangle himself. Nate grinned, inclining his head toward Josiah, whose nose was buried quite happily in the book. The big man was no longer even making a pretence of listening.

"... so if an agent is as well prepared as it possible to be, then any event, no matter how unexpected, cannot change the successful outcome of a bust. If a bust does go bad, therefore, it is the result of carelessness on the part of the agents involved..."

Ezra's head snapped round. He gaped at the podium, dumbfounded. Had that... that... that blithering *idiot* actually *said* that? He looked over at Nate, the only one of his friends, other than Chris, that had heard the speaker. He was staring at the podium too, his expression a perfect mirror of how Ezra felt. Finally, he tore his gaze away and met Ezra's eyes - and burst out laughing. He slid down in his seat, hands over his face, trying to muffle his helpless laughter. Ezra stuffed his fist in his mouth, desperately trying to stop laughing before Chris *looked* at him. The only person that did look at him, however, was the FBI agent on his other side, who gave him his disgusted expression again and whispered something about telling his superiors.

Just as Ezra finally managed to contain his mirth, a particularly loud snort escaped Nathan. Vin woke with a jerk, tried to sit up straight, and very effectively managed to make his chair fall over. This time the entire team noticed, and they collapsed in fits of laughter. Even Chris's mouth seemed to twitch, although he hadn't looked around. Vin, red-faced, hurriedly got up, righted his chair and sat down again, casting a dirty look at Nathan. His expression promised vengeance. Ezra noticed vaguely that they were attracting attention from all around them now, although still only in the immediate vicinity. After allowing them to fall about laughing for two minutes, Chris mutely held a finger to his lips. The team fell silent instantly, settled themselves in their chairs, and tried to pay attention. It didn't take long for Josiah to return to his book, however, and it took even less time for Buck and JD to start fighting again. Nathan slipped his watch off again and showed it to Vin, who began fiddling with it. Nathan paid careful attention.

Ah, though Ezra, not fixed, then. He sighed.

Ten minutes later, Ezra was ready to shoot someone just so he could enjoy the ensuing gunfight. Unfortunately, he was well aware that Chris would be upset with him if he did that, so he tried to take his mind off it by singing songs in his head.

I see a red door and I want it painted black, he sang in his head. Tum-ti-tum-ti-tum-ti-tum-ti-tum-ti black... Now what *was* that line again? Ya-da-da... maybe if he could get the tune...

"I see a line of cars and they are painted black," he sang softly. "No, that's the next verse... um... I see a red door... Hah! No colours anymore, I want them to turn black," he finished triumphantly, half-standing.

The agent next to him socked him on the arm and hissed, "Shut up!"

Ezra sat down again and folded his arms sulkily. "Not like he's worth listening to anyway," he muttered, then cast a guilty look at Chris, who, it would appear, disagreed.

Somehow, with a valiant effort, he managed not to do anything annoying for the next five minutes, until, finally, to his unfathomable delight, the speaker said, "Any questions?"

There was a brief pause, then Chris raised his hand. His team stared at him in astonishment. Chris *never* asked questions; he assimilated what he felt was worthwhile and ignored the rest, but *never* asked questions. It just wasn't done.

"Yes?" said the speaker, smiling. "That man in the black 'Armageddon has nothing on me' T-shirt?"

Chris gave the sort of smile that invariably sent his team running for cover. "Yes, I had a question about... I made a note here somewhere... ah. You were talking about telephoning experts for their opinion in certain matters?"

The speaker nodded, smiling back at Chris. "Quite. Much easier than going in person. And all."

"Right." Chris's smile broadened. "I was just wondering whether, in fact, you sometimes find it difficult to obtain the cooperation of these people, being, as you so obviously are, er..." he paused, then shrugged. "Well, being, as you are, the perfect example of a complete and utter pompous asshole?"

Ezra blinked. "It's the end of the world as we know it," he sang to himself, stunned.

The speaker's mouth had fallen open. "Oh, now, really, my dear chap, that was rather uncalled for."

Team 7 of the ATF very quietly moved farther away from their leader.

"My dear chap?" Chris repeated. "Oh, that is it. That's... that's... I should shoot you where you stand, you imbecilic, naïve moron!"

The speaker frowned. "I really can't think of the words to describe your rudeness!"

Chris stood up and started walking toward the stage. "Well, I can certainly think of plenty of words to describe you! Why don't we start with 'dimwitted twit' and move on from there? Ezra, bring your mouth."

Ezra looked around. "Pardon?"

"Get over here, Agent Standish."

Ezra nodded worriedly and followed his team leader up on stage.

Chris had very gently picked the speaker up by the collar and pinned him against the wall. "You know *nothing* about how a real agent does his work. You and all your 'office procedures' - you're not even a real cop! You're a *private eye*! Have you *ever* been present when someone that's supposed to be dead pulls a gun and starts shooting at your team? I have. A lot. A lot more than should technically be possible, but anyway. It's hard to '*factor in*' that kind of thing." His voice was a low growl.

Finally, the agents in the audience were reacting. Unfortunately for the speaker, most of them seemed to agree with Chris.

"I must insist that you put me down," stammered the speaker, nervously.

"Ezra, what do you think of this man?" Chris asked, ignoring him.

"Um, well, uh... He's... a brainless deluded ignoramus with no idea what goes on in the real world?" Ezra replied, tentatively.

"And would you say that is an accurate reflection of the opinions of most of the people here?"

Ezra surveyed the room. Almost everyone was nodding vigorously. One of the exceptions, he noted, was the agent that had been sitting next to him. He shrugged. "It would appear so, sir."

"Fine." Chris let go of the man's collar, dropping him to the floor, and picked up the microphone. "Dismissed," he said calmly, and, beckoning for his team to follow, walked out.

"I can't *believe* the Judge made us go and listen to that.. that... stupid... jerk!" Nathan fumed, as they headed for the car park.

"I can't believe Chris sat through the *whole thing* before... doing what he did," Vin sighed.

"I can't believe Ezra started singing a Rolling Stones song ten minutes away from the end," said Chris, grinning.

"It was either that or the Penis Song," Standish replied, adding in response to the inquiring looks he received, "Monty Python? It... never mind."

"I can't believe you assaulted that guy in front of all those witnesses!" JD said adoringly. "That was so cool!"

Chris waved a hand dismissively. "That wasn't assault, that was... getting a point across."

Buck was as livid as Nathan. "Couldn't you have gotten it across sooner? I had to cancel a date for that horse... manure. This was *supposed* to be my day off."

Josiah looked around. "What was that guy saying? I wasn't listening."

"No kidding," drawled Vin. "What were you reading, anyway?"

Josiah held up a book by H.G. Wells. Ezra was astonished. "You're actually reading a book I recommended?"

Josiah smiled slightly, then smoothly changed the subject. "Well, while I'm sure you had a good reason for humiliating that man in front of all those law-enforcement agents, Chris, I'm damn glad I won't be in your shoes when the Judge hears about this."

Chris grimaced. When was he going to learn to think of consequences...