Deadline by Michelle and Amanda (PG)

[beanarie.livejournal.com]

Fandom: MAGNIFICENT SEVEN
Pairing: a bit of Chris/Mary, a dash of JD/Casey
Length: Novella-length
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: The authors' stories listed on Blackraptor
Why this must be read: Gosh, so many reasons. This is one of my favorite types of fics, the kind that works within the confines of canon, while pushing it just a bit further. The tone and format are both spot on for an actual episode of the series--well-balanced comedy and action, with several intertwining subplots--and the characterization is so there. Ezra is great, a greedy bastard who would pawn his own heart of gold, but JD might be my favorite here. It's hard to keep the kid naive and somewhat goofy without making him seem stupid or irretrievably immature.

Okay, wait, no. I lied. The fabulous Claire Danae takes the prize. When done right, an original character serves as a foil for members of the home team. Ace reporter Claire does that perfectly, setting off ripples of drama that cause everyone to react in varying, often amusing, ways. Watch as the boys regret their sense of chivalry when they're stuck between two beautiful women competing for their quotes. Watch as Chris becomes kind of a fumbler. Watch as an unholy alliance is formed that threatens to corrupt both parties. And definitely check out the picture files of photoshopped old-time newspapers peppered throughout the story. They really went all out.

Standish cut the deck repeatedly, absentmindedly positioning the cards. "Where Miss Danae's penchant for creating trouble is concerned, I wouldn't underestimate that influence," the Southerner drawled. He began to dispense the cards around the table.

"Hey, wait a minute," JD protested. Standish paused mid-deal. "You're cheating," Dunne accused, though rather than angry the young man looked extraordinarily pleased with himself.

"I beg your pardon?" Ezra spluttered. It was true, he had been employing some small slight of hand, but only to maintain the required dexterity. JD should never had noticed. "What makes you think . . ."

JD pointed to the deck of cards in Ezra's hands. "You kept a small stack on top the whole time you were shuffling, even when you cut the deck all those times." Dunne grinned.

Standish felt like he'd been hit on the back of the head with a twenty-pound sack of feed. He sat at the table blinking at his young compatriot.

The story