Hello CMSB fans! As promised, here is my next story. This one is a little bit sadder than Suspect Covers but will be multi-chapter like it. They are unrelated though. Hopefully the humor will still be present! Funny is what I like to write best, but not flat-out comedies.
Disclaimer: not mine (yet...)
As always I love to hear your thoughts.. criticism and your feelings on how the story is going are welcome. Please leave a review if you could, I'll be updating this fairly regularly (I hope!) until it's done.. whenever that may be! Look forward to many more chapters of your favorite matchingly-dressed profiler couple!
Mick/Gina with some focus on the rest of the team but no shipping between Prophet/Beth/Cooper/Garcia or anything.
On an unusually slow day, Beth Griffith stormed in to the Red Cell team's headquarters, unceremoniously dropping her bags onto her desk and plopping into the chair.
The three younger members of the team looked at her, smirking. It was rather obvious she was still partially hung over, though Cooper pretended not to notice, for all the times Mick had shown up glassy-eyed and half unconscious, rambling on about some girl he debatably did or did not sleep with the prior night.
"What?" Beth finally spat out, after noticing her fellow profilers watching her.
"Rough night, eh?" the Brit tossed out, smile widening as Prophet and Gina laughed.
"Yeah, with your mo- oh," the brunette had begun, before realizing a 'your mom' joke directed at Mick was entirely in bad taste.
He stiffened, and seemed ready to lash out at her, but then Mick relaxed and said instead, "Didn't know you were into necrophilia. That why you're on the run?"
"She's probably a serial graverobber," Gina agreed, giggling as Beth threw her phone at Mick. It hit him square in the chest, but she hadn't thrown it very hard so it dropped down harmlessly. He feigned being wounded, clutching at his heart and twitching in the chair.
"Looks like Gina's CPR training will be useful after all. Help the man out," Prophet teased, nudging Gina's chair closer to Mick's with his foot.
"Faking death just to get a hot chick's mouth on yours is so 1993," Beth scowled, rolling her eyes and pulling her computer out.
"I loved The Sandlot!" the blonde woman excitedly cried, clasping her hands together.
Mick froze from pretending he was dying to stare at her, "Bloody what is a sandlot?"
Prophet spat his water out.
"You've never seen The Sandlot? It's only one of the best movies ever! I must've watched it a million times at sleepovers," Gina explained, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Even I've seen it once. England really is a crooked and depraved nation," Beth sighed, slumping into her chair to stare pitifully at the Brit.
"They played baseball, man. The Beast was this vicious dog and he ate hundreds of people, bones and all. Hey I met the girl who played Wendy one time, man she was hot," Prophet remarked, eyes glazing over as he leaned back to recollect on the fateful meeting.
"Probably why I've never seen it. We didn't care much for baseball back in Wales, mates," Mick said, shrugging as he tossed Beth's phone back to her.
"Team movie night. Two days from now. Save the date. Don't make plans. Unless we're on a case, then we'll have to put it off," Cooper ordered, taking out his own phone to make a calendar entry.
"Are we seriously going to watch The Sandlot?" Beth groaned, wondering if perhaps they weren't just a bit too old to be watching it.
"Absolutely! I have it on VHS, this will be so fun!" Gina cheered, bouncing in her chair as Prophet laughed and Beth sighed.
"Do we have a case? Or something I can be doing away from these three?" Beth asked after a few minutes, looking quite bored with the day already.
"Nah, serial killers are taking a break for the week. Must be some kinda Facebook event," Cooper joked, glancing once again at the empty case file folder, "Catch up on paperwork I guess. If you don't have anything to do, head out. If something comes up I'll call everyone in. Take some free time while we can."
"Today is a good day to be all caught up," Beth firmly stated, standing up quickly and placing her computer back into her bag.
"Fugitive," Prophet coughed under his breath, Mick and Gina snickering in agreement.
"Yeah, yeah. I prefer organized and therefore out of here," she daintily snarked back, dangling her car keys in front of her as she walked out the door.
"I've only got a couple files. Work for an hour then meet for lunch?" Mick suggested, pulling out his folder of papers to be dealt with.
"Sounds good," Gina agreed, followed by Prophet's, "I'm in." Cooper declined, saying he had a meeting with Fickler in 45 minutes.
Around half an hour after, Mick staring at the last few sheets of paper in boredom, his phone began ringing. He glanced at the other two profilers, who shook their heads, and Cooper was already on the phone.
He walked out of the office and through the gym to the street before answering. It was an English number, he knew that from the 1- prefix and the area code. But it wasn't his sister's and he didn't recognize it as anyone he'd known from Interpol and all his friends were in as named contacts.
"Hello?" he greeted, waiting for an explanation.
"Mick Rawson, brother of Jenna Rawson?" a motherly voice replied, gushing sympathy and tenderness. He froze, paling. He'd never heard this woman before, but if she was calling about Jenna, and it wasn't Jenna calling, it couldn't be good.
"Yes, that's me," Mick confirmed, hoping his voice was steady.
"I'm Nurse Lars," she started, before his loud 'WHAT' cut her off. She tried again, "Nurse Lars. I'm sorry to inform you but your sister has been in an accident. She just came out of surgery and is alive, but we have her in a medically induced coma."
Mick was pretty sure his heart stopped. His sister was in an accident severe enough to require surgery and a coma? What had happened to her? She was a daredevil but not a risk taker, enough that she could wind up dead. They both found themselves in dangerous situations often enough but took care to make it out just fine, for the other's sake.
"How… what… are you serious?"
"I am, I'm sorry. She was crossing the street with her friends when a drunk driver hit her. It broke her phone, so it took us a while to get your contact information. She was roughed up pretty bad from the impact but we have her stable now."
"I understand you're in America? I don't know if you'll want to fly over to check on her or if you need us to call you about updates on her condition but…"
"I'm flying. Today, the next flight possible, how could this happen to her…"
"I'm sorry. She's at St Mary's Hospital, check in with the front desk when you get here, she won't be transferred out," and with that, the nurse hung up, leaving Mick to stand alone outside the gym, short on breath and wondering just how his little sister wound up in a coma.
Finally he turned and went back in, sitting down at his laptop without a word and immediately booking a flight. Unfortunately, the nearest airport had all flights to London completely overbooked until the next day, and he didn't have the energy to call them and argue for a spot.
Cooper rose to leave soon after, and Mick followed him out hurriedly, not bothering to acknowledge the other two agents.
"Coop, I have to go to England. Tomorrow," he stated, hands clutching his phone in front of him too hard to look normal.
"Mick, what happened? Take as long as you need but keep me in the loop."
"Jenna was hit by a drunk driver, she's in a coma. I need to be there with her."
"I'm sorry man. You're on leave until she wakes up, don't worry about the job. We'll cover for you, this is more important. I'll keep her in my prayers."
The senior agent opened his car door and got in, giving the Brit a comforting pat on the shoulder. He slowly drove off, watching Mick nearly walk into the wall trying to go back in through the door.
Cooper made a mental note to call Gina later.
When Gina's phone rang, she was expecting it to be one of her friends calling her back about their plans for the night. She was not anticipating Cooper's number, and sighed, knowing a pressing case had come up and they'd be leaving within the hour.
"Hey Coop, what creep is at this time?" she answered, only to be floored by what Cooper actually had to say.
"I'm not calling about a case. Not exactly. Jenna's in a coma, drunk driver hit her. Mick's leaving tomorrow for England to be with her but he's a wreck. I don't think it's good for him to be alone. I trust you to be professional and keep him under control while helping him deal with this. I'd go with him but, Fickler doesn't agree. He opens up to you more than Prophet and Beth. I want you to fly over with him and stay until Jenna's alright," Coop explained.
"Oh my… are you serious? That's why he backed out of lunch. Poor Mick. Do you think he'll want me come along?"
"He might not but he needs someone with him. I'll tell him you're going and to get you on that flight, no questions."
"Alright, see you once Jenna's back on her feet."
"What do you mean, Gina's coming with me and I don't have a say?" Mick grumbled in shock over the phone, Cooper's even breathing on the other line.
"Hey, Mick, everyone needs a friend. You walked into a wall today, she's just gonna make sure your driving's safe," Coop firmly said, making it clear the issue was closed.
"I'd have preferred if you let me accept to take her instead of saying this is how it is," the Brit huffed.
"Sorry man, but sometimes you just need to be told what's happening. Get her onto your plane. Take care, Mick."
"Glad you think I require a caretaker, mate."
"Just looking out for you. She's there for emotional support. I know how much you care about Jenna, this is impacting you. Don't push Gina away, okay?"
Cooper hung up, leaving Mick to flop back onto his bed and sigh. He hadn't been anticipating going with anyone; now he wouldn't be alone with his thoughts while he waited for his sister to wake up.
This could turn out well, he figured. Gina was nice and, of the profilers, the most sympathetic and comforting. It was easy to see why Coop had sent her and not Beth or even Prophet. He wasn't sure he could handle any extended period of time alone with Beth and her sarcasm, as amusing as she was to be around. Prophet would be a good drinking buddy but he wasn't the team's bleeding heart by any stretch.
Who knows, he might be able to persuade her to have a little comfort sex. She was without a doubt the most attractive of his coworkers.
He picked his phone back up to call the airline and get her a seat.
"I'm sorry sir, there are no two open seats next to each other," he was informed by a rather rude representative.
"Well move someone, I want her next to me," Mick ordered, as though it was the most obvious solution in the world.
"I can't just move people, they already have assigned seats."
"Sir you don't seem to be understanding me…"
"No, you aren't understanding me. I am telling you to book the seat next to me for Gina LaSalle on my flight. That really cannot be as difficult as you're making it out to be."
"Sir the only way we could move a passenger is if the flier you're trying to add is family."
Mick paused for a moment, debating his options. The first thing that came to mind was to say Gina was his wife and simply chose to keep her own name. It was fairly unlikely this obnoxious rep would bother to confirm whether they were actually married or not, since she obviously just wanted him off the phone.
"Did I forget to mention she's my wife?"
"Why wasn't she already flying with you?"
"Other plans that fell through, now stop being so bloody difficult and give her the bloody seat."
"Sir are you lying to me?"
"Do you want me to arrest you for arguing with an FBI agent?"
"Sir you can't threaten me."
"Book the bloody ticket."
"Gina LaSalle, seat 16E, confirmed. Please print your ticket online."
"Thank you, absolute pleasure doing business with you."
"Dick," he was pretty sure the woman muttered as he hung up the phone, but it didn't matter. Beth texted him soon after, saying she'd heard he was flying out and asked if he needed a ride to the airport. Confirming he'd appreciate her driving, he called up the blonde profiler.
"Mick? Is everything alright?" she quickly asked, picking up after only one ring.
"Excluding the bloody stubborn airline broad I just argued with, and that my sister's lying in a hospital bed in a coma across the ocean, yeah things aren't too bad."
"Nah, whatever. Be ready for Beth to pick us up at 7. The plane leaves at 9:30. I printed your ticket. Oh, and uh, love, if they ask, our anniversary is April 1."
"Anniversary? Like when we first met or…?"
"But we aren't married…"
"Just… lie and say we are. I had to tell that bimbo we were married to get you next to me. Just go with it and hope nobody really bothers to ask."
"You know you'll need fake rings. I have a few plain bands in yellow gold, white gold, silver…"
"Gold. I've got some dumb ring or other lying around here. I'll uh… go buy some diamond or something tonight."
"No, just stay there. I'll tell Beth to pick me up early and we'll get one. Don't worry about going out yourself."
"Love I really must insist on paying for it…"
"You can pay me back, Mick, just take it easy. You don't need to go ring shopping for our fake plane marriage with Jenna like this."
"Alright, thanks doll. Can't say I really was looking forward to getting prodded for all the details of my proposal and girlfriend by a saleslady. See you tomorrow then, eh?"
"See you then, love, and go to sleep. You sound like crap," Gina laughed before hanging up, leaving Mick with his own thoughts and an almost empty bottle of beer.
Another swig and the bottle was dropped to the floor as he closed his eyes and tried to sink as far into the mattress and out of the real world as possible.
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