Summary- Mike takes his new holier-than-thou routine too far when talking to Paige, forcing Briggs to step in and remind him how things work at Graceland. Set during season two.
If you asked Mike Warren how the argument started, he wouldn't be able to answer you. One moment, the two friends were quietly working around each other in the kitchen, preparing their breakfast and enjoying the tranquility of a quiet house. The next, Paige was shouting at him about being a controlling jerk and he had called her a drunk. And yet somehow, here they were, Paige with tears in her eyes and Mike with a desperate feeling of helplessness rising in his gut, confirming for him that there was no way he could stop this. And so they both kept shouting.
"Well maybe if you didn't spend all your time drinking you wouldn't be getting nowhere with the case!"
"I spend the same time drinking you used to, Mike! So why don't you get off your freaking High Horse and realize that these dead ends aren't my fault!"
"I'll get off my horse when you get on the wagon, how about! And when you gain a modicum of professionalism and stop whoring yourself out to every guy on the street!"
This was the comment Briggs heard as he walked up the steps from the beach, still in his wetsuit from an early morning surf session. When he heard Paige's voice break shouting the next nine words, he shook his head and quickened his pace. He'd been feeling a rare calm this morning, lulled into zen mode by the crashing ocean waves, but that calm was rapidly evaporating. Clearly he'd been letting Mike's attempt at dictatorship in the house go on for too long.
As Paige shouted "Take your professionalism and shove it up your ass!" the side door slammed open. Both heads turned in Briggs' direction as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring at them.
"Paige, go for a walk, clear your head. Forget everything this little ass just said." After a moments hesitation, Paige nodded, understanding blooming in her face as she walked out, eyes teary. As she passed Briggs he pulled her into a quick hug, and she whispered "Don't kill him." before she was ushered out.
Once the door was closed behind her, Briggs turned to the only other person in the kitchen. "And you, come with me." Paul walked off, stopping at the foot of the stairs. "You want me to come force you up these stairs, Michael?" He spoke quietly, without so much as turning around, and after a moments stubbornness Mike's common sense won. At the sounds of footsteps, he resumed walking.
Mike wasn't sure what was happening, just as he wasn't sure how he'd gotten into a shouting match with Paige in the first place, but as he walked up the staircase his stomach began to sink, the helpless feeling expanding. He hadn't heard that sharp tone out of Briggs since he'd nearly burned the house bringing Abby upstairs, and that incident hadn't ended well for him, or his ass. He wasn't a rookie anymore, so why did he suddenly feel like today was going to be just as bad?
Briggs was waiting for him in the com room, where the thick walls would hopefully stop the noise of what was surely about to happen from getting out to the rest of the house. The older man sat on a table casually, arms crossed once again. Mike took a spot three feet in front of the man, falling without thought into a half attention stance.
Before Paul could speak, Mike blurted out "You know I was right down there! Nobody in this house is showing any professionalism! They're all out there partying and drinking and goofing off!"
"No Mike, they're getting their jobs done. Last year you knew we couldn't play by the same rules as the desk jockies. What, you forgotten how the house works? Have you forgotten what happens when a member of this house breaks the rules? Perhaps it's time you get a reminder."
Before Mike had time to retort, he was being manhandled over the table, held in place by Briggs as the man Mike once thought of as a big brother grabbed the belt that had gone unnoticed by the younger agent in his rush to defend his actions.
"You ever show a member of this team the disrespect you just showed Paige, and what you're about to get will seem like a day at the spa, you got me, young man?" At Mike's quick nod, the belt came down, drawing a strangled shout from the younger man. "Can I get a verbal answer, Mikey. I'm starting to think you really have forgotten how this works."
Mike breathed out an "Understood, sir" resting his head in his arms as the belt began flying. As it struck the younger man's aptly positioned posterior, Briggs began to lecture.
"Since you got back here you've been nothing but a jerk to everybody in this house. You've been condescending, you've been rude, and I've clearly let it go for too long. Consider this your wake up call, Mike. I'm not going to be so lenient if I've got to do this again." With that, Briggs settled into silence, administering the last few lashes as Mike began to sob in earnest. Once the 24th lash had been given, Briggs dropped the belt onto a nearby chair, and put a hand to the back of Mike's neck.
"Alright Mikey, take a few minutes and clean yourself up. Then you're going to find Paige and clean up this mess you created. You hear me?"
"Yes, sir." said Mike, beginning to stand from the table gingerly. Paul watched as he pushed himself up, a bit of sympathy in his eyes.
"I'm glad you're back, Levi. I know everybody here is." With that, the man took his belt and walked out of the room. Mike wiped at his eyes and walked over to the bathroom, nursing a bit of bruised pride and a seriously bruised ass.
Author's Notes: Why 24? Because in my world, Mike is 24 years old. To be an FBI agent, you've got to have a four year degree and go through a 20 week training program. Mike was fresh out of the academy at the beginning of the series, making him about 23, and I figure about a year has gone by throughout the course of the seasons.