DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!
RATING: T - Teen
SPOILERS: Post S01XE11
WORD COUNT: 910
SUMMARY: Beth is still coming to terms with "in the line of duty" shooting.

A/N: I couldn't help myself… I just kept seeing these little things that made me think these two would be fun to write. Thanks for indulging me.

REVIEWS: Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.

"What're you doin'?" His tangled Welsh brogue asked from the door. He never stepped out onto a roof without checking his surroundings first, but always stayed in the doorway, his eyes scanning every available vista before taking that first step out. It afforded her a few extra moments of solitude before his presence intruded on her private time.

There were no offices, no privacy in their BAU unit headquarters, and it struck Beth on more than one occasion that they were hiding a so-called secret Red Cell in plain sight, within the confines of an old gymnasium. She did have a desk, thanks to her team members, and a plant. Both were firsts for her, and while it was overwhelming when she thought about it too much, it was also the first time in her career she actually felt like she might belong to a team.

When she heard his foot crunch down onto the graveled surface of the roof, Beth smirked. It was a team built for her; a team of misfits and ne'er-do-wells. Without even looking back, she finally answered, "You know what they say about curiosity, right?"

"Then I guess it's a good thing I'm not a cat." He wasn't going to be persuaded to leave her alone. He never was, actually. Mick was always the one to approach her, about everything.

Shaking her head, Beth tried not to think too deeply into her analyzation and asked, "You do understand that I come up here to get away from the locker room antics and jokes, don't you? Because if you don't, then we really should talk about your future as a profiler."

She stiffened when his voice was suddenly right beside her. "I know… I simply choose to ignore it."

Her jaw began to grind involuntarily with his response. "Then it's a respect thing… Since you don't have any for me, you disregard my need for distance." With her gaze never leaving the capitol dome, she struggled to remain cold and aloof.

"It's not a respect thing" were his only words. Instead of defending his reasoning, or turning his visit into an interrogation, he just stepped in closer to her side and brought his arm up along her back until his hand was resting on her opposite shoulder. She felt the weight of his arm across her back and it lifted a weight from her mind.

Without thought, without hesitation, Beth melted into his careful embrace and felt her whole body begin to rack with sobs. For the last twenty-six hours and fourty-seven minutes she had been carrying the burden of taking another man's life with a cold and a callous heart. She was beginning to believe that she really was the heartless bitch she'd been called for so many years. But there on the roof, with nothing more than Mick's arm around her shoulders, she became completely undone.

Mick never said a word; he just stood there, holding her tight and letting her weep like a pathetic girl. She hated that more than anything. Beth hated thinking that somehow this was just because she was a girl. And it was that anger which finally helped to bring her back together.

The sobs faded out into a few sniffles and a handkerchief appeared in front of her face. "Take it." She looked to her side and found that infuriating little smirk of his dancing in the corners of his mouth. "I've got another…and you need somethin' to take care of that mess a'fore headin' back down."

Beth took the handkerchief and tried to salvage what was left of her dignity. "This'll do wonders for my level of respect around here." She huffed and awkwardly attempted to laugh it off.

"Don't." He finally pulled his arm away from her shoulders and leaned forward on the edge of the roof. "Cooper sent everyone home." Lowering his head, Mick asked, "Why're you always doin' that?"

She knew what he was asking, but she wasn't yet ready to admit it; not to him, not even to herself, and so, she remained silent.

"Nevermind." He stood up sharply, his spine rigid and his chin high. "I just came up to tell you that we're done for the night."

When he turned to walk away, Beth put her hand out and grasped his forearm. "Thanks." She knew the light was dim and there was no way he could really see all what she was sure was showing through her eyes, but she hoped somehow it would make a difference. "For everything."

Mick's posture softened, just enough for her to notice, and he nodded. "C'mon." His playful grin began to surface and she couldn't resist the impulse to match it for only a second. "I know an after-hours spot serves a mean club soda."

She finally gave in and smiled fully. Turning to walk with him to the stairwell, she shot back, "I don't know… You think your reputation can handle a hit like that? I mean really, club soda, on a school night?"

He held the door open and gestured for her to enter first. "I tell ya… Bein' a rebel is tough work, ya know. Club sodas, workin' out, wearin' the occasional suit and tie. Next thing ya know, I'll be offerin' to do your paperwork, bein' nice to Prophet. There's just no tellin' where this thing will end." And it was her bark of laughter that carried them down the stairs.