AN: Thanks to peanutmeg for betaing this and helping me on the spot I got stuck. I appreciate it!
This was written for the Masquerade Challenge at Chit Chat on Author's Corner. I picked Rawson and Anderson as my two characters (yeah, I know talk about obscure right) and was assigned the costume Fred Flintstone. Hope you enjoy!
The final ballot for the 2011 Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds awards is up at Chit Chat on Author's Corner. Please take the time to check it out, and enjoy the many wonderful stories there. Several of my stories- "Careless Man's Careful Daughter", "Eternal Changes", "Silent Cries", "Notorious", and "Sparks" have made the ballot.
"Let's see you beat that score, Prophet," SSA Mick Rawson boasted as he walked away from the bowling lane where he had just finished his game by throwing a turkey. The three strikes in a row had moved the British sniper into the lead. Now that SSA Eric Anderson was in last place, his costume would now be chosen by either Rawson or Prophet; the young agent would be at the mercy of the winner due to the rules of the bet.
"You haven't won yet," Simms said, casually getting to his feet from his seat at the scoring table.
"Have you done the math?" Rawson asked. "You'll have to throw at least two strikes just to have a chance to even tie me. Then you would have to knock down most of the pins with the third throw to actually win. And I hate to break it to you, but the odds are in my favor: you haven't gotten a strike all night."
"And yet my spares have been keeping me close to you," Simms replied, stepping up on the lane.
"Don't worry about him. Don't worry though I'll make sure I get you two matching costumes," Rawson said in a mock whisper to Anderson.
On the lane, Prophet heard and dismissed his friend's taunts. He knew his chance of actually beating Rawson was slim; Anderson had won the first game, after all. He had a chance, though. All he had to do was concentrate.
"He'll look cute as Raggedy Ann, won't he?" Rawson said, waving toward Prophet who was starting his approach.
"Guess that means you plan on making me be Raggedy Andy," Anderson commented hesitantly. Though he had spent quite a bit of time with the two older profilers the last couple of weeks, since they were helping him out with the profiling classes he was taking, he still didn't feel completely comfortable with them.
Rawson smiled broadly. "That is an awesome idea."
"I should have kept my mouth shut," Anderson said, as the clatter of falling pins filled the air.
Both men looked toward the end of the lane to see that for the first time that night, Prophet had managed a strike. The agent walked calmly back from the foul line, his eyes on the ground, trying to stay focused. Anderson stayed quiet, but inwardly rejoiced, since Raggedy Andy was not his ideal costume.
"That's only one!" Rawson called out.
As Prophet stepped up on the lane for the second throw, both Rawson and Anderson quietly looked on. Methodically, Prophet took the steps toward the foul lane and released the blue and black swirled bowling ball. Anderson found that he was holding his breath as the ball made its way down the lane. The blue and black sphere struck right in the pocket and all ten pins fell down in a noisy cascade.
As the lane reset, Rawson kept his mouth shut. Seven pins would tie his score and eight would put Prophet ahead of him. The British sniper suddenly wasn't feeling quite so confident about the win.
Prophet picked his bowling ball up off of the ball return and stepped up to his marks. In their seats, Anderson and Rawson eyed the pins at the end of the lane just as intently as the man lining up to throw the ball. The sound of the ball hitting the wooden alley resulted in all three men holding their breaths as it sped down the lane. The black and blue sphere struck the lead two pins, causing a cascade reaction that ending when all the pins were lying on the alley.
Anderson let out the breath he was holding and leaned back in his chair. Rawson muttered a soft curse as Prophet turned around to face the other two men.
"Looks like I'll have to go browse through a costume store," Prophet said, a smile coming to his face. "I've got two costumes to pick out for next week's Halloween party. Be ready to shell out the money when you pick them up."
"Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this," Rawson commented, his gaze drifting up to the scores on the display above the bowling lanes.
SSA Eric Anderson looked at the garment bag he had brought home with him from the costume store. He didn't yet know what it contained; he hadn't had the nerve to open it at the store as Prophet had given no clue about the costumes and given Rawson's ideas at the alley, Anderson was wary of Prophet's pay back.
However, Anderson knew he couldn't put it off all night, he needed to get ready soon or he would catch hell from Garcia and several others for missing the party. After taking a deep breath to brace himself, Anderson grasped the zipper of the garment bag and began to slide it downward. The first thing that he saw was furry orange and black material. He wasn't quite sure what to think. Pulling it out, he held the costume up and recognized the character he was supposed to be tonight - Fred Flintstone.
~Well, it could be worse,~ Anderson thought as he retrieved the wrist cuffs, wig, shoes that looked like big bare feet, and oversized blue tie that was also in the bag. Taking the costume pieces into the bedroom he found a T-shirt and shorts to wear underneath the costume and began to get ready.
Feeling more than a bit silly, Anderson stepped into the ballroom of the hotel that was hosting the BAU Halloween party. He and Gina had agreed to meet one another at the party, though Anderson realized with a sight that he had forgotten to ask her about her costume and he hadn't known his when they had made their plans. Given the number of masked party-goers, that missing information could cause a slight problem.
"Well, yabba-dabba-do," came the all too familiar voice of SSA Derek Morgan.
Glancing in the direction of the voice, Anderson saw the senior agent walking in his direction. Morgan was dressed in a black suit and tie, and was wearing a pair of sunglasses.
"I thought everyone was supposed to be in costume?"
"I am," Morgan replied. Seeing Anderson's skeptical look, he continued. "Don't you recognize one of the Men In Black when you see one?" Morgan added, even as he reached out and grabbed one of the multiple green appendages of a passing alien. "See, I just caught myself an alien."
The said alien removed the hood of the costume to reveal Dr. Spencer Reid.
"Wait, you 'caught' me," Reid gave his fellow agent a smile, "Anderson didn't think you had a costume, did he? You're using me as back up. See? That's what happens when you wear something you could wear to work to a Halloween party. You should have worn a real costume."
"Shut up, Reid."
"What? Nearly seventy percent of Americans dress up and celebrate Halloween. Including Anderson," Reid paused and glanced at his colleague, "Nice costume. Much better than Morgan's."
Anderson gave a hesitant smile, and was about to speak but was interrupted by Agent Morgan, "Thanks a lot, Reid. But I'll have you know I've already gotten several compliments on my attire. And, you couldn't pay me enough to wear Anderson's – wait. That's it! Anderson! You lost a bet, didn't you?"
Anderson felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He looked down at the costume he was wearing. "Is it really that bad?"
"You look fine. Besides, you can't go wrong with a costume of a character that has been around for fifty-one years," Reid replied, using his close proximity to Morgan to surreptitiously cast him a look that clearly told the older man not to say anything else about Anderson's costume.
Anderson noticed, but was still glad Morgan caught the hint. "Yeah. Besides it's not like you ended up with the costume Rawson is wearing," Morgan said, turning to scan the room. Spotting the British sniper talking to two of his teammates the Chicago native pointed to him. "He so does not make a good red-head, nor does he have the legs to pull off that dress," Morgan said with a grin.
Anderson looked in the direction that Morgan had pointed. It wasn't hard to spot Rawson and Anderson grinned as he spotted the British Sniper.
~Looks like Prophet got his revenge for the Raggedey Ann threat,~ he thought, grateful that it wasn't him sporting the red wig, white one-shouldered white dress, and white rock necklace. ~I'd much rather be Fred than Wilma.~
"Hey, Fred why don't you go ask your wife to dance," Morgan joked.
~Or maybe not,~ Anderson reconsidered faking a laugh at the older man's joke.
"That sounds like a good idea to me," said a distinctive feminine voice.
Anderson looked to his left to see Gina standing there in a Wilma Flintstone outfit that looked far better on her than it did Rawson. He smiled. "Who am I to deny the request of my wife?" he said, offering his arm to his pretty co-worker. All of the sudden the Fred Flintstone costume wasn't so bad.