Work Text:
Talisman: What are some talismans or charms you carry to protect yourself against evil spirits or bad luck?
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“Come on, you can’t really believe in that!”
Buck looked up from his report as he heard the raised voice coming from the joint break room. He caught J.D.’s eye and the two stood, heading over, their curiosity piqued. Behind them, he noted Vin had silently followed.
Josiah Sanchez, the oldest member of Team Seven was leaning back in a chair, a large mug cradled in his hands. His mild gaze was locked on two members of Team Five. “I do believe,” he said solemnly.
“See?” the younger of the two said triumphantly. “I’m not the only one.”
Buck studied him for a moment before placing him. Rafael Montoya had introduced the newbie a couple of weeks earlier. Fresh from being recruited onto Team Five. Brian was young, from somewhere in Southern California, so green he almost squeaked, even if he was good enough to be poached by the Denver agency.
“It’s a liability in the field and a superstition that’s going to get you hurt,” Dave growled. Team Five’s tech and ordinance specialist was a jaded, harsh man who had no compunction against disparaging anything he saw as detrimental to his team. But he was very good at his job, so as long as he left Team Seven alone, none of them had confronted him on his attitudes.
Josiah’s eyebrow rose and he freed a hand to wave the younger of the two men to settle in a chair. “My beliefs are my one,” he said simply, his hand moving to tap the simple Irish cross on his chest. He then pointed to the fancier one that Brian wore. “As Brian’s are his.”
“Doesn’t mean he needs to show it off, like some kind of magic charm. It won’t protect him from stuff,” Dave growled, shaking his head. “Hell, the kid was almost hit last week because he had to untangle it from the Velcro on his vest.”
Buck snorted at that. He had been there for that mishap. He moved into the break room and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Kid ducked to do it and Anselm’s bullet went right through where his head had been. No Kevlar vest can protect against a head shot.”
“Saw that,” Vin murmured, passing Dave and heading for the coffee. He quickly poured some and took a sip. He grimaced before adding sugar to it. “S’spect it worked, though. His angel looked out fer him.” The Texan tapped his own chest, making a small lump under his shirt obvious. “He listened. He lived.”
Dave bristled at the support his new teammate was receiving from Team Seven’s notoriously stand-offish member. He shook his head and continued, “Well he doesn’t have to put it in all of our faces.”
“Indeed?” Ezra’s laconic tone filled the quiet that came after that comment. It had caught the four a bit flat-footed as it was not quite an accusation, and they were not certain how to react. And Brian had paled at it, looking more than a little distraught. “Is his cross attacking you? Does he proselytize? Does Mr. Sanchez?”
“Well, no,” Dave replied with a bit of a shrug.
Ezra nodded, eyes thoughtful. “Does the Native American display on Mr. Tanner’s desk offend?” At the confused negative movement, he smiled slightly. “Or my own desk?” Another frowning negative. “Or perhaps, Mr. Wilmington’s calendar of vintage pinups in WWII uniforms?”
“What?” That made Dave splutter.
“It is just as much a talisman as the Catholic team member’s crosses. Each monthly beauty is wishing her service members, and all other service compatriots, a safe, victorious month,” Ezra explained carefully, a knowing smirk on his lips. His eyes danced as he moved further into the breakroom, still speaking, “And everyone knows that he worships the ladies, whether they are lovely or plain. Which is why they adore him in return.”
“That explains his luck,” Josiah said with a chuckle.
Buck found himself blushing at the accusation, but he could not argue against it. “S’true,” he admitted to the soft laughing as the others teased him.
“That’s not the same,” Dave blustered.
“Yes, it is,” the soft, cold words stopped the laughter and amusement. “The kid can have his beliefs. He can wear his cross pendant openly, without any more comments. Tanner can keep his under his shirt,” Chris Larabee stepped out of the shadowed corner where he had been silently watching and listening. He stopped in front of Dave, his left hand lifting slightly, just enough to let light shine off a slim, gold band. “All of us have our own protective talismans,” his pale green eyes locked on Dave’s startled gaze before flicking down towards the thick, ornate band on his clenched fist. “Even you.”
The other man looked at his fist and the ring about his finger, cheeks flushing as he slowly nodded. He quietly turned and left the breakroom.
“Guess it never occurred to him,” Buck murmured, supping at his coffee.
“What?” J.D. asked as he sank into the chair next to Brian, his expression a little confused by the idea of using a wedding band as a protective talisman.
“That ring’s been keeping Sally and Juno from trying to add him to their lists,” Buck said with a grin. At the surprised snorts, he shrugged. “What? It says he’s married. They don’t like poachers any more than they like single men. So they don’t set up married men. An’ they don’t pry into HR’s records.”
“So, if I start wearing a ring?” Ezra asked thoughtfully. Beside him, Vin eyed Buck hopefully.
“You can tell’m you’re not interested,” Buck repolied easily. He grinned at their expressions. “But if you suddenly start wearing a ring, they won’t believe it without proof.”
Ezra pouted at that as the others laughed.