CHAPTER 02.– SNAP BACK TO REALITY

-BASH -

I looked at the young woman who shook hands with my Section Chief, not recognizing her from our division. She was either new or this was a collaborative effort with another division of the Bureau. She was probably fresh out of the Academy. Normally we'd say 'fresh out of Quantico' but technically we were in Quantico. There was no way she was older than me, though. She didn't look like she could have even passed the physical training at the Academy to be allowed in the field. I raised my eyebrows.

Westbrook looked at me. "This is your new partner, Special Agent Mary Stuart from the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

There was no sense in being rude, but that didn't mean I had to welcome her with open arms either. I just held out my hand, not bothering to stand up. Dully, I introduced myself. "Supervisory Special Agent Sebastian Poitiers. But for the love of God, don't call me Sebastian."

Mary looked at Westbrook, a bit confused. So he cleared things up. "He goes by Bash."

"Ah," Mary said and nodded, now fully understanding. Mary took my hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you, SSA Poitiers."

"Don't call me that either," I said.

"Oh—kay," she said, letting go of my hand a moment later. She seemed a bit taken aback by me, but I didn't give two shits right now how I was coming off. They were going to force me back into this place and dump a new partner on me? I could be a heartless bastard when I was fucked with.

I looked at Westbrook. "Where's the rest of my team?"

"On their way in with their go bags," he answered.

I stood up and said, "Fine. Wheels up in thirty." I walked right in between Mary and Westbrook, heading for the door. I heard Mary's footsteps behind me, trying to catch up since I was walking pretty quickly. "You have a go bag ready?"

"Yes, sir, I—"

"Wrong. Rule number one: I only like to be address by one name, and that's "Bash." Don't call me "sir," "Agent Poitiers," "SSA Poitiers," "Sebastian," or anything else. Just "Bash.""

"Um, okay," she said. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Rule number two: Don't apologize. It makes you look weak."

"Who are you? Gibbs from NCIS?" she asked.

I stopped and turned to look at her. She stopped and looked apologetic. "Rule number three: I like to make shit up as I go along. It's served me pretty well in the last six years as a field agent. I'm well on my way to being a Special Agent-in-Charge because of it. So don't question me." The look on her face told me she understood, despite her shock. I turned back and started walking again. "Let me guess, fresh out of the Academy?"

"Yes, si—Bash, I graduated last year, top of my class."

"Oh, well, now I understand why they chose you," I said sarcastically. I'd also graduated at the top of my class. I had my pick of where I wanted to go. At first they assignment me to a special mission out in New York for a year and then I came back to work for Organized Crime, which had been my original first choice. I'd been here ever since.

"I've been with the BAU since I graduated," she explained as we left the OC floor and stepped in the elevator. "Section Chief Delacroix selected me personally when—"

"I don't care what your story is," I said. "Rule number four: Always give me the short answer."

She kept her mouth shut after that. We rode the elevator down and once the door opened I found the rest of my team there. "Look, the dead has risen!" Leith said.

"Shut up," I said as I stepped out. "Who's got my go bag?"

"I do," Penelope answered, holding it up in her left hand while her own was in her right.

"Good," I said and headed for the door.

"Um…."

I stopped when I heard Mary sound a little confused. We all turned to look at her. "Yes?" I asked.

"Well it's just that… I'm supposed to ask some of my BAU agents to come along," she explained. "Agent Delacroix was very clear about that."

Fantastic. Just what I needed, more new people to take up space. This was annoying the hell out of me. But I couldn't refuse her Section Chief's orders. All of the Section Chiefs were above me. Going over their head was a death sentence. If I wanted to be a SAC after all of this, I had to at least do what my superiors told me. "Fine. We're on the plane in twenty-five. You're not there? We leave without you." I turned around and lead my team to the door so we could head for the air strip.

.

-MARY -

This was going to be a joy.

When I took this job as the new partner of someone in Organized Crime, I at least expected him to act human. But Bash acted like he was some sort of God. Not only that, but one that was pissed off at the world. What was his deal? I understood his partner had been killed a couple of weeks ago, so maybe that was part of it. But he was an agent… he had a job to do.

I got back in the elevator and rode it up to the BAU floor. When I got there, I walked into the bullpen where my fellow agents were. "Alright, listen up. Anderson, Thomas, Warren, Hale, Johnson. You're all with me in Miami. Grab your go bags, we're on a tight schedule." I'd made it to my desk at this point and grabbed my go bag from under it. "My new partner's got something up his ass and I'm not looking to piss him off on day one, though I'm pretty sure I already did."

The five people I called out were up and following me within seconds as I headed back to the elevator. First, Kenna Anderson. We'd been in the same class together at the Academy. She graduated in the top ten and she was brilliant when it came to psychology. Second, Lola Thomas. She was a couple of classes ahead of Kenna and I, but didn't think of us any differently. Out of every agent in the BAU, she was the most clever. She came in handy. Third, Greer Warren. Greer was in the class behind me, so she was really fresh out of the Academy. She needed more experience in the field. Fourth, Aylee Hale. Aylee was in Greer's class and a genius. Her IQ was through the roof, and they actually had to make exceptions to allow her to go into the field since she failed all of the physical requirements. She'd just barely passed to get the right to carry a gun. But her brain was a tool I'd need. Finally, Philip Johnson. Philip had been in the field for a few years and had taken all of us under his wing. He always said they needed more good female agents in the field. We were all like a little think tank once we got together.

.

-BASH -

The plane ride to Miami wasn't long. About two hours in the air and we'd landed and headed right for the North Miami Beach Field Office to check in with our contacts. They'd allowed us to work in their territory, though they really didn't have a choice since Valois was Quantico territory from day one. By the time we were finished, it was late. I told everyone to get some rest and we'd meet at six a.m. the next day to get started.

I wasn't going to sleep. I went right to the gym on the third floor of the field office. I threw my bag down in the locker room and changed into my clothes I used to work out in. They'd given me access to a locker so I threw my bag in one and went out into the gym, looking around. It was deserted. Good. I wasn't in the mood to be around people right now. I put my earphones in my ears and made sure my phone was secure to my sweatpants. I was ready to get going, so I turned the volume all the way up to make sure the only thing I could hear was Eminem's Lose Yourself… then I started running.

After about thirty minutes of running around the track that surrounded the machines in the gym, I stopped and checked my pulse. It was out of control. I wasn't ready to slow down yet. Looking at my phone, I saw no new messages to my eternal relief, and then changed the song to Linkin Park's Enth E Nd and went over to the punch bag. Securing my phone again, I went to wrap my hands up and punched the bag as hard as I could once. Pause… and then again… shorter pause… and again until the pauses because almost nonexistent and I was punching the shit out of the bag. All I could see was Valois' face. I should have killed him when I had the chance. We'd been debriefed further on the plane. He'd been in contact with his son and Junior was getting ready to take over a huge operation.

I punched the bag until my arms gave out completely. I put my hands on the sides of it, steadying myself to stop the sudden dizzy feeling I was getting and rested my forehead against it. My breathing was labored. There was sweat dripping down my entire body. I'd been here nearly forty-five minutes and I wasn't ready to leave yet. I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to do something I'd spent the last two weeks doing. Then again, I didn't know if I could call it 'sleep.' 'Lying around,' okay sure.

When I was sure I was okay, I ripped my earphones out of my ears and something startled me out of the corner of my eyes. I jumped when I saw someone, and turned to see it was Mary. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, realizing how dehydrated I was now.

"Thought I'd get a work out in before I hit the sheets," she said and tossed me a water bottle. I caught it with ease. "I didn't mean to disturb you." She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and went over to the door of another room. It was an empty room with a mirror wall and bars and a couple of polls. I stayed where I stood but I could see slightly into the room from the open door as she pulled a chair into the center. After that, she went to shut the door, which made it impossible for me to see any more.

Not that I cared to.

.

The next morning I arrived at the field office after a sleepless night. I'd spent another hour at the gym, leaving before Mary did. I arrived with an extra large cup of coffee in my hands and was handed another by Penelope. No one knew me better than my team.

I sat down at the table and opened the file they had for me. "Okay, hit me."

Julien used a small remote to bring up some things on the screen. "Francis Valois is currently taking up residence in the family's beach house in Miami. He's got everything he wants… money, cars, ladies. There's a massive party there every night."

"So the party is our in," I said, looking up from the file.

"Right. You and Mary will go under cover as potential buyers."

Mary, who was sitting about four chairs down from me, asked, "For what?"

Alec answered her. "That's the thing. Valois has connections for everything. It doesn't even matter what you're going in to buy for. Drugs, weapons, whatever. He's got it."

"In a way," the agent named Lola said, "that makes it more difficult."

I turned and challenged her, "Why's that?"

"This guy's obviously thorough," she answered, looking me straight in the eye. "He wants control. He's got his hands dipped in everything so he can't make any mistakes, but no one can challenge him."

She had a point. Valois was a king. His son was the prince who was preparing to take over. Looking back at my team from OC, I asked, "Did the Bureau send our UC identities?"

Alec slid both Mary and I additional files. "Sebastian and Mary Whittaker, ages twenty-eight and twenty-six, from New York City, but to be more specific Manhattan. You married just last year—"

I stopped him, "Excuse me, married?"

"Don't shoot the messenger, Bash," he said. Then he continued. "You married last year, both from old money families. You basically own Wall Street. If the stock market crashes again like it did before the Depression, you're both basically fucked."

"Fantastic," I muttered, sarcastically.

"You're looking to make a deal for whatever it is you decide upon," he continued. "Like I said, you have your pick of the litter."

I looked at Mary who was studying her file closely. "Well then I guess we've got our work cut out for us."

...

A/N: Chapter 03 coming soon! Review review review! -heart- xoxo