Disclaimer—Characters belong to Josh Schwartz and Chris Fedak. No copyright infringement intended. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Author's Notes—Many, many thanks to the lovely and talented GoddessofBirth, who cultivates the best plot bunnies in the business, for sure. My twist on her "government ninjas" comment, written with permission. And even more thanks to Goddess for the beta. :)
Spoilers—End of Season 3.
Uncovered—Jeff and Lester try to clear their names, but Casey isn't interested in helping. No matter who they really are.
He drummed his fingertips on the conference table. He hated being kept waiting when he had an appointment. He wasn't even sure why he was there other than because Beckman had ordered it. His level of respect for the FBI had always been lower than that of the CIA, but it was continuing to shrink every second he sat there.
He was well aware of the fact that he was being watched. The picture mirror was framed nicely, giving it more of a homey appeal, but he felt like he was in an interrogation room all the same. As such, he made a large production-for whomever his audience happened to be-of yawning and looking at his watch.
As expected, a few moments later the door opened. The two people who strolled in confidently were the absolute last people he ever would've expected to see, however.
One was short and slim with long dark hair and olive skin. The other was taller by comparison but, really, just of average height, a little stockier with balding, light colored hair.
"Patel... Barnes..." Casey intoned with a healthy dose of disdain.
"My, my, my. If it isn't our intrepid large appliance pusher." Lester grinned broadly as he eased his suit jacket back to slide his hands into his pants pockets.
Casey noted well the glint of the gold badges on their hips as well as the tell-tale bulges under their arms indicative of shoulder holsters. "Seems I was right all along," Casey said, leaning back in his chair. "The Federal Bureau of Idiots is always filled with morons."
"Have you still not yet learned, Colonel," Lester asked as he eased into a seat, "that words hurt?"
Casey leaned forward, swallowing his smirk as the momentary fear crossed Lester's expression. "Let's cut to the chase. What am I doing here? Because if this is just some kind of abuse of power... you will regret it."
"We're not scared of you, Crazy," Lester said, his hackles raised.
Jeff put a hand on his partner's shoulder. "Casey," he said, for the first time with perfect lucidity, "think about it. When the Ring tried to take over the Buy More... Who's the one who saved you?" He gave Casey a moment to remember. "When everyone else, when your whole... team... was MIA, who was there to watch over Chuck's sister and her husband before they took off for Africa? Where they-or, really-she picked up a Ring tail..."
Casey grunted, annoyance and barely controlled rage, accented by the grinding of his teeth.
"Should I go on?" Jeff asked.
Casey sneered. "So, you've proven moderately helpful. What about the other times? Trying to steal the 'Roark Industries' laptop?" Of course, it hadn't been the latest in gaming technology, but the fact that Orion had even lived was still at a need-to-know level and, if he had any say in the matter, the two imbeciles across from him would never know.
"Back up," Lester said simply with a shrug.
"Bumbling back up," Casey retorted. "What about the issue with the marlin? Ringing any bells?"
For a moment, they struggled to remember. Jeff lightly hit Lester's shoulder. "Remember? When the Buy More got stolen? Completely?"
Lester waved his hand dismissively. "Same thing."
"You two crumbled like cookies. Like... feta cheese," Casey said, clearly unimpressed.
"You're getting caught up in the details, Johnny! Details, schmeetails," Lester said. "The 'big picture' is what's important here."
"Big picture?" Casey repeated flatly.
"Yes. And that big picture includes our being able to do undercover work again," Lester said, referring to himself and Jeff. "Sometime. In the near future. Y'know... soonish."
"I'm not writing you two reference letters, if that's what you're asking," he said through clenched teeth.
"Our photo is still being broadcast on every local news channel every time we turn around," Jeff said. "We've tried to clear it up, but the reporters say that their info trumps our boss's phone calls. If you planted the evidence that implicates us..."
Casey regarded them both for a moment. "I can guarantee you that my agency had nothing to do with any alleged evidence-planting. I can guarantee you that my teammates and their affiliated agencies had nothing to do with it either. So, no. It's not my fault that you two numbskulls are being blamed for the explosion."
"But, we didn't cause it! And you and your people," Lester spat, "were the last ones to get out! So, therefore, one of you must've done it!"
While Casey wasn't keen on defending Morgan, he wasn't about to let the likes of Jeff and Lester take the troll down with them. "You two might've placed the bomb earlier that day. When none of my people were working."
Lester screeched: "No! No, we didn't."
"Really? You realize that makes you sound guilty, right?" Casey asked casually. "When did you graduate from Quantico?"
"How dare you, sir. How dare you come into our house and try to besmirch our character!" Lester said, still annoyed.
Casey got to his feet. "Sorry I can't help you gentlemen," he said with a shrug. "Good luck with your Bureau careers. I guess there's always that fake band you can fall back on."
"It really was a hobby!" Lester shot back as Casey strolled from the room. He huffed, looking at Jeff who sat down sullenly.
"We'll clear our names," Jeff said with a nod. "Somehow..."
As Casey continued down the corridor, he wondered if Jeff or Lester realized how their voices carried.
"Hey!" Lester said excitedly. "I have an idea!"
"What?"
"We could always try to make the band thing work... Blowing up a building? That's rock-n-roll street cred..."
Casey just shook his head.
End.