Author's Note: This is a humour piece that at one point contains vulgar language. Proceed at your own risk. NCIS: Los Angeles' G. Callen and Criminal Minds' Will LaMontagne Junior star in...
Brain Bleach: Why Callen Hates D.C.
Will LaMontagne had known that he and Jennifer were nearing the end of their story. He had known since her promotion to the Department of Defense that they were on borrowed time that their fairy tale was going to end, happily never more. It hurt to know that his Princess had found another Prince so soon after the break up. If he had not known the type of person both Jennifer and Aaron were, Will would have thought that they had had something on the side for months, if not years.
Will had not only lost his Princess, but it felt as if he lost his son, too. For the past ten months, Henry had become more and more distant, and more and more vocal about what Aaron did, how Aaron did something. It was driving Will mad to think that another man was raising his baby boy thus five months ago he started to drink to cope. He knew that alcohol would never solve his problems, but it did numb him for a while so that he did not have to deal with them.
Every weekend became every other weekend before finally two months ago it had become once a month, because of this, Will felt as if he had nothing left in Washington. His long-term girlfriend dumped him, his son had replaced him, and the person he had been seeing recently was ashamed of him.
Which brought him to this exact moment; he was waiting for his train to begin loading passengers. He had a one-way ticket to New Orleans. He took a drink of his half-empty large water bottle as he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.
The bottle contained Vodka.
*.*
G. Callen hated bureaucracy. He hated most of the politics of the Government he had sworn an oath to protect. He hated how those politics always prevented something from being completed. It was always a power play game of paperwork and appeals. He hated the yearly budget meetings. He hated that he had to attend those meetings and he hated how he had to suck up to the bureaucrats whose security clearances were not high enough to know what particular office he represented or what his team actually did. To say it was hard to persuade them to fork out millions of dollars to an unknown cause was a gross understatement, yet he successfully did it each year. He hated hating the bureaucracy and Government he not only worked for, but also, daily placed his life on the line for it. It was irony in the darkest terms.
The annual meeting was the reason why he was on the East Coast instead of the West. He would, never understand, why he had to attend them, because after all, he was not the Operations Manager, he was the Special Agent in Charge of the Office of Special Projects. Each year he would hope to persuade Hetty not to send him, but she always retorted that she was not getting any younger and that it was best if he started forming connections of his own that were not his alias's connections. Frankly, Callen believed the true reasoning behind it was that Hetty did not want to deal with the assclowns in the three piece suits.
However, the meeting did not explain why he was parking his car in the carport of a train station in the heart of Washington, D.C.
*.*
Will LaMontagne was standing in the ticket line waiting his turn. He had his ticket, but he was becoming antsy, impatient, and unbearable. His train should have begun boarding twenty minutes ago. The line was, at the very least twenty deep, there was only one window open and the person manning it was overwhelmed and flustered, because of it. Will stood unsteadily as he took another drink from the large water bottle.
The man in front of him was talking on the phone and when the man mentioned just leaving Director Vance's office, it caught Will's attention. He knew that Director Vance was the Director of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, because he and his office had several run ins with both Vance and a Special Agent named Tibbs, Bibbs, no Gibbs, it was Gibbs. Will blinked as it was getting hard to think and his vision was becoming blurry.
"Hey man," Will slurred. He repeated the phrase clearer though only just so and clasped his hand unto the man's suit jacket clad shoulder. He yelped in pain and surprise when that man swiveled around and captured Will's wrist in a frontward wrist hold. "Hey man, let go, I ain't no frackin' threat. All you Government Assclowns are the same. Think just 'cause you got some federal badge and wear a suit you can attack a man and steal his family."
Callen groaned and let go of the obviously drunken man's wrist.
A little girl about four years old who was holding her mother's hand was in front of Callen in the ticket line. The little girl looked at Callen wide eyed and scared, before looking up at her mother and asking, "Why the man take that man's family, Mama? Is he gonna take ours, too?"
The woman turned around gave Callen a scorching look of disapproval and disgust as she assured her daughter, "No, honey, he's not going to take ours, too. You'll learn one day, baby, that some men are scum bags who destroy people's lives for fun."
"Okay, mommy," The little girl whispered, shuffling her feet backward, until she was behind her mother's leg, in front of her.
"For the love of God," Callen declared and flashed his badge at the woman. "I don't know this man."
"Sweetheart," The woman drawled, "You ain't got to know the man to know his wife."
Callen closed his eyes, before reopening them, and stating, "I have a beautiful girlfriend who I am waiting on. She insisted playing tourist while I was in a meeting! Her train should have arrived twenty minutes ago, which is why I am this forsaken line dealing with drunks and nosey busybodies!"
"Why I do declare," The woman stated her hand on her chest near her heart.
"Declare to someone else, lady," Callen growled, allowing his frustration from the meeting, from his beloved's train being late, the drunk behind him who kept muttering something he couldn't understand, because of the slurring and the accent, and now some strange woman was auditioning for a modern day Scarlett O'Hara, he had had enough. He wanted to go home. "Because I've had enough of this city as soon as my girlfriend gets here, I'm going back to where it's saner and let me tell you Los Angeles isn't the sanest in the nation!"
"You got something against being with a man?" Will slurred as he began to confuse reality with a memory. He believed he was home, a few hours ago, arguing with the person he had been seeing.
"Oh!" The woman choked as she began to both walk and drag her daughter away. "Come, now, baby, let's go, we'll get our tickets later."
"For the love of," Callen stated, before pressing his lips into a firm line. He turned around and glared at the drunken man who was arguing at a space of air. "Sir, what's your name?"
"It don't matter what my name is, I love you, man!" Will cried heartbreakingly so. "Jennifer left me. Henry left me. Now you're dumping me, because I drink too much and your Mama don't approve of the fact that I got a dick instead of a pussy! You fucking Mama's boy, grow the pair I know you got!"
By now, the line had completely stalled and a crowd had formed.
"Look," Callen stated in an authoritative tone as he realized that he would have to take action, that the man was hostile and a threat to everyone at the station. "Either you calm down, or I'm going to have to arrest you for public intoxication."
"You ain't in your juris-dick-tion!" Will taunted, as reality started becoming clearer and the memory faded. "Fed!"
"That made no sense whatsoever!" Callen stated, as he eased toward the other man, "I have jurisdiction in all 50 states and Puerto Rico." He paused, before he said as he walked closer toward him, "Why in the hell am I arguing with you?"
Callen and Will physically struggled briefly, before Callen easily got the upper hand, pushing Will to the cold tile face down. Callen grounded his knee in the back of Will's back as he tied the man's wrist together with black plastic wire that he always kept on him. Callen searched Will's pockets as he read him the Miranda Rights. Finding the man's wallet in the front right pocket, Callen flipped it open and swore as he recognized the leather indention of what had once held a badge. Callen read the Driver's License and finally could put a name to the man on the ground screaming that he was an Detective and that his partner was an FBI Agent. Callen rolled his eyes as he retrieved William LaMontagne Junior's phone out of the left front pocket. Callen scrolled down the contacts of the phone, found the only Jennifer, and dialed. Unfortunately, there was no last name listed.
"Will," Jennifer groaned as she answered the phone, "Call me when you're sober! It's been an hour since you called me last and buddy you can't sober up that quickly!"
"Excuse me," Callen stated, "I apologize, but I am not Mister LaMontagne Junior, my name is G. Callen, I'm an,"
"You're joking?" Jennifer interrupted.
"Excuse me?" Callen answered, "I assure you..."
"No, no, pardon me," Jennifer interrupted again, "You're with NCIS. It's JJ, Jennifer Jareau! We worked a case out in Los Angeles about a year ago, I was with the DoD, but now I'm back with the FBI."
"Yeah," Callen answered, vaguely remembering her, "I'm sorry to call like that this, but there has been a situation."
"A situation? Oh, no, you're calling from Will's phone," Jennifer said, "Of course there's been a situation. Where is he and what has he done? I'll come pick him up."
*.*
Finally, fifteen minutes after Callen had handed over the drunken Will LaMontagne Junior over to a furious Jennifer Jareau, the train that transported his girlfriend from Arlington, had finally arrived.
"Hey babe," She greeted. He kissed her as if it was the first time in weeks instead of only hours. When he pulled away, she smiled, "Not that I don't mind, but what was that for? You act as if you haven't seen me for a while."
"Just glad to see you," He replied as he wrapped his arm around her waist. They chit chatted about their day as they left the station with the carport in mind as their destination. Mostly, she talked about what she had seen and he listened, offering his opinion of somewhere that he had previously been.
"Did you learn anything new today at the meeting?" She asked as she slipped her arm around his waist.
"Not at the meeting," He answered, all of the frustration and craziness of the day starting to slowly roll off his back.
"Oh, then what did you learn?" She asked as they approached Callen's rental.
"That next year," He said as he opened the passenger side door for her, "Hetty is going to the damn meeting, because I'm through!"
"Oh, wow," She stated as she climbed into the car, "The meeting that bad?"
"It's this blasted city, it's like a cesspool!" Callen exclaimed before he closed the door.
She waited until he was in the car and buckling his seat belt before she replied, "G, a lot of people says that about Los Angeles."
"Well, I choose the cesspool I know over this city." He stated stubbornly. "At least I don't need brain bleach in LA."
"Brain bleach?" She repeated.
"Yes," He answered in a tone as if everyone should know what brain bleach is, "You know, what you use to erase a portion of your memory, to clean a spot on your brain that was scarred."
"Ri-i-ght," She slowly said, before she finally buckled her seatbelt, "Babe, you are so overreacting." She giggled, "Washington is a beautiful city full of history."
"Nell, babe, I love you, but you did not see the Washington that I saw." He stated as he turned the key in the ignition, "I fucking swear that I am a magnet for psychos moreso here than in any other place in the world, the world, Nell! This morning at the coffee shop, at the train station a few minutes ago, and even NCIS Headquarters, man there is something not right about D.C."
She agreed to a point, "You do have the habit of attracting the mentally unstable and terrorists, but that's what makes you so good at your job, honey. The city doesn't matter."
He ignored what she said and declared, "Babe, I love you, but you are never going sightseeing again without me and when we do that sightseeing, we will use a car, plane, boat, or hell by foot, but we are never using public transportation again."
"G, planes are public transportation, you know, airport and all." She pointed out.
"Well," He paused, before coming to a compromise, "No public transportation in or around D.C!"
A year later, it was time for the annual budget meeting, but neither Hetty nor Callen went.
They sent NCIS Senior Field Agent Sam Hanna.
