JD shifted wearily. He risked a casual glance down at his watch. Precisely two minutes since the last time he'd checked it. He sighed, trying to focus on the conversation around him.

He listened, more or less, attentively as the conversation shifted to the latest corporate maneuvers. It was no use. He wasn't going to make it though the evening without yawning in someone's face. And he couldn't do that, because Casey had made him promise, under penalty of death, not to.

When Casey had talked him into escorting her to the opening of the new wing of the museum, she had made it sound... Well, he'd known it was going to be political mingling. But she had made it sound like an evening with her. They'd been here for an hour and a half. He hadn't seen her since Professor Myers had peeled Casey off JD's arm as they walked through the door.

He excused himself from the conversation quietly. Casey wouldn't be ready for quite a while yet, but JD wasn't sure just how much more small talk he could take. Most of the patrons had turned out to see who had out contributed who, and had yet to venture into the display area. He took advantage of that and slipped away unnoticed.

At least the exhibits weren't too bad. In fact, if he let himself admit it, some of them were even interesting.

He was drawn to the Old West section. A nod to his childhood, when he had desperately wanted to grow up to be Bat Masterson. He wandered among the partitioned cases, studying the artifacts with a keen eye. These were remnants of a heroic age. He had to chuckle at his own melodrama.

He nearly missed it. The case was nestled between the saddle display and the gun cases. It was unassuming to the point of being camouflaged. A modest wall plaque the only indication of actual content.

The book was ancient, dog eared and well loved. It was amazing that it had survived at all. JD gave it a quick glance. Not really a full look at all. The 'Guns of the Frontier' sign beckoned him from just a few feet further down and he didn't really want to stop for a book.

Except...

He knew the men on the cover.

Not in that, 'Gee, doesn't that kinda look like so-and-so' vaguely familiar way.

No.

He KNEW the men on the cover.

They were all there. Chris, Vin, Buck, Nathan, Ezra, Josiah, and... his own face peered at him across time.

"It's amazing isn't it? Even after all these years, you can still feel their intensity."

JD jumped as a voice broke the suddenly heavy silence.

An elderly man stood behind him, watching JD with a knowing smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Michael Potter," he said, offering his hand.

"JD Dunne. A pleasure to meet you."

"Have we met? You look familiar."

"I don't believe so, sir. I don't normally attend this sort of thing."

Michael laughed. "Neither do I. I came because of them." He gestured toward the book.

"What do you mean?"

"I loaned the book to the museum. It was my grandfather's. He grew up in Four Corners. The town where the Seven rode."

"You mean the book is true?" JD couldn't keep his wonder from creeping into his voice.

"Granddad always claimed it was. I tried to go back once and research the stories. But there was a fire in the 1920s. Burned fully half of the town's buildings. No records of the Seven survived."

"It's a shame too. The stories he used to tell... Truth be told, I've always been kind of glad that no records exist. If I couldn't prove they lived, at least I couldn't prove they didn't live. There's no record of them, other than this book and the stories I grew up on."

JD was entranced. The idea that the book was real fascinated him. "What do you think happened to them?"

"I don't know. I like to think that they found a sunset to ride off into. But only history knows, and she isn't sharing. I wanted the book to be seen, so they didn't fade away entirely. Granddad always made it clear that our family owed them at least that.."

"They helped his mother. After his father, my great-grandfather, was murdered. They stood at her side when no one else in town was brave enough. Oh- the adventures he used to spin... It's a shame that they've been all but forgotten."

JD studied the book for a moment. "I don't think they've been forgotten. At least not what they stood for."

Michael smiled at him. "No, I don't suppose it has." He shook JD's hand and turned to walk away.

JD glanced back down at the yellowed pages. "Mr. Potter," he said, pulling a business card out of his wallet. "Here. In case you ever want to keep the stories alive, by passing them down."

"I'd like that, son. I'd like that a lot."

JD watched him disappear around the corner, then he pulled out his cell phone.

"Buck? It's JD.... No, everything's fine.... Listen, get the guys together.... Tell them to wear suits and meet me at the Metro Museum....That's right. The Museum. There's something you all HAVE to see."