crack_van | Pickoff Moves by Monica M. (PG)

Hi! I'm

beanarie and I'll be driving the M7 van this month. I was pretty active in the fandom about eight or nine years ago, then I moved out West and I lost touch for a bit. My preferences lean towards Gen, and Ezra, but I'm slightly malleable. Gosh, hope I do a good job!

Fandom: MAGNIFICENT SEVEN
Pairing: None
Length: approx 7k
Author on LJ: unknown
Author Website: The author's stories listed on Lady Angel's Library
Why this must be read: Okay, okay *ducks flying tomatoes* I know the Little Britches/Little Ezra/Little Who-the-eff-ever trend of "kidding" one or more of the seven is somewhat controversial. That's because, imho, a lot of the time you get A) a youthful, often precious OC who shares a name with the character they're replacing and nothing more, B) a virtually identical version of the de-aged character, albeit one who's shorter and skatey-eight million times more likely to get hugged and cuddled by one of the other guys, and/or C) a severely skewed dynamic for the group as a whole, as in they're no longer The Seven, they're The Six, Plus One or The Five, Plus Two. I'll admit, I tend to enjoy the stories anyway in a guilty pleasure kind of fashion, but moving on!

Monica M., together with Debra M., sidestepped those pratfalls neatly with the Regents AU. The dynamic is preserved because all of the boys are, well, boys, students in the same prep school. They're also very believable as teenage boys and believable as themselves, which is just as important. Like Ezra. It's hard to get that guy right, whether he's thirty or thirteen. But they manage, in their series and especially in this little number. Monica's Ezra is smart, and quick, and an absolute, unrepentant pain in the ass. I love him. Chris is amazing, too. He's just so freaking male. The two of them have this fantastically sparky rapport that could conceivably erupt into blows at any moment. Ezra's just that much fun to be around.

Three pitches and Chris had Derek struck out and had retired the side. He did not even give the umpire a chance to call the strike out before striding off the mound toward the dugout and a certain southerner. Ezra caught the glare in Chris' eyes and stood up to move toward the water fountain at the end of the dugout. Chris blocked him, grabbing his arm, and marched him back to a spot on the bench that mysteriously had become free of other players. "We've got to talk."

Ezra twisted his head to the side, his impish smile playing across his lips. "Really, Christopher? And what manner of discourse are you interested in?"

"The type where I talk and you do as I say," Chris growled as he sat Ezra down on the bench and then sat beside him.

"Well if you plan on being the only one doing the talking, I can hardly see why you originally said, 'We've got to talk,'" Ezra stated with a shake of his head. "After all, we implies that both parties will be able to contribute to the conversation..." He was cut off suddenly by a point blank glare. His mouth snapped shut even as his head drew back as far as the unyielding wall behind him would allow.

"See, it's not so hard to shut up, is it?" Chris asked.

The southerner's mouth opened, but before he could speak, Chris shook his head in dismay. "What am I thinking? Of course it's that hard for you to shut up," the pitcher mumbled to himself.

"Now, Christopher, you did tell me yourself that I should take a greater interest in the game as I sit here on the bench," Ezra interjected.

Chris leaned back away from Standish, letting his head loll against the dugout wall as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He had to wonder how Ezra had all his teeth intact when he even drove his friends to wanting to smash his face in.

Rubbing at his temples, Chris ground out, "Pay attention to the game. That's what I said. That you should pay attention to the game and not take bets about how many pitches it'll take to get someone out, like you did in the last game."

Sidenote: One of the biggest reasons why I adore this story is that it gave me insight into the appeal of baseball, something that being raised in Met-Yankee country did not accomplish.

Play ball!