Welcome my friends! So this is something that I have been working closely with CrazyBeaver on for sometime now – and by closely, I don't mean that literally seeing as we live on like the opposite sides of the freaking world from each other, but you get my gist.
So basically what we've got here is a semi-AU, semi-crossover… thing… It was originally just a semi-crossover, but because of the timing with the films (both MIGP and the second film) we made it sort of an AU one too… So it is something that I hope goes well… Fingers crossed there…
Righto, before we start, anyway, I wanna say a huuuuuuuuge thank you to CrazyBeaver for her help with this. It started out as a bit but then we just decided to turn it into a collaboration. So thank you, you are amazing!
Oh and I still don't own them, unfortunately… :( if I did, I would not be here writing fanfictions…. I mean… what?
The fucking James Bond theme.
Why did Benji have to use that as his ringtone? Brandt slowly let his mind return from sleep as he listened to the sound of his friend's mobile phone. As the sound of Benji's clearly unimpressed groans filled the room, Brandt knew that his co-worker had the hangover from hell.
Brandt almost felt a smile tug at his lips as he remembered the laughter and drinking that had occurred the previous night. It had been a successful mission which required a bit more celebrating than usual; in their opinions anyway. Ethan and Jane had left the bar earlier than them, the remaining agents returning to their hotel room just before midnight. But their night hadn't ended there. Benji had slipped the 'Bad Boys II' disc into the DVD player of their room, all the while expressing his disappointment – rather vocally – that Brandt hadn't seen the film before. The pair had watched the film intently, going through beers like there was no tomorrow.
Eventually they had passed out at around 1:30am, despite the film having not finished yet. Brandt lay sprawled across the sofa in the centre of the room, his empty beer bottle slipping from his grasp and rolling about on the soft rug beneath him. Benji, in the meantime, had started the night on the second sofa, however ended up on the floor sometime between losing consciousness and being woken by his phone.
So now, Brandt lay in his spot, his face only inches from the back of the sofa, curled up in the foetal position listening to his friend fumbling about for the device. He heard the English accent mumble countless obscenities as he searched, finally finding it inside one of his shoes. There was a small pause between the "Gotcha!" and when the ringing actually stopped, causing Brandt's curiosity to perk up a bit. He knew it was rude to listen in to other peoples conversations, but there was something about the tone in Benji's voice when he answered the phone that intrigued him.
"Hello?" A pause. "What? Why are you calling me?" Another, much longer pause. "No. No. Not happening, sorry." Brandt was really curious by now, however maintained the ruse of sleep. "No, Travis. I put that in the past. It's behind me, now, and I never want to… Please don't bring him into it. Don't." Who was Benji talking about? "Of course I do, you know exactly how much I miss him. Look, Travis, I'm hanging up now. Goodbye." Brandt heard the click of the call ending and contemplated turning over to see if his friend was ok, but decided against it. He couldn't imagine Benji being too pleased that Brandt had heard his conversation. He heard the younger agent climb back onto the sofa, however could tell that he didn't fall back to sleep. The analyst lay there, contemplating what he had just heard, wondering if he should ask his friend if he was alright. But, at the end of the day, Benji was a grown man and if he needed help he would ask for it.
The next morning, Brandt studied Benji's body language as they packed for the return trip. The Brit seemed distant, distracted and awfully quiet. The latter shift in his usual personality was what worried Brandt the most. Ever since the pair had met, it had been difficult to shut the tech up; even in his sleep, the younger man would often ramble off different technological terms. Once, he was sure he had heard Benji say the words "I'm sorry." but when Brandt had asked him about it, he had told the analyst that it had merely been a dream.
"You ready to go?" Brandt asked, cheerfully, not wanting to give off any signs that he had heard Benji's conversation. The tech was good at reading people; that was for sure.
"Yeah. All ready." Benji gave an obviously forced smile and hitched his rucksack over his shoulder. As he stepped into the corridor of the hotel, the sound of Benji's phone echoed off the cold, grey walls. As Brandt pulled the door shut, he glanced over his shoulder to see the tech staring at the screen of his phone before hitting the lock button and pocketing the device. He turned to Brandt, noticing the slightly incredulous look on the analyst's face. "What are we waiting for?"
"Uh… After you." Brandt smiled and motioned for his friend to take the lead. He followed the Brit with an increased amount of curiosity; as he walked, Benji seemed to hold himself slightly different. It wasn't the usual relaxed pace that Brandt always saw him display, he seemed to be more rigid. Something was off.
Well, how does that sound? Ok? Let us know!
Much love x