This won't be the last chapter. I confess I have a hard time writing descriptions. Look for an author's note at the end.
...
It was like watching a TV show as each scene flashed by.
1
A teenage girl dressed in soccer uniform dashes through the house. She waves hello to middle-aged man and woman seated at the kitchen table as she pulls open the door pounds into the basement.
A teenage girl wearing jeans and a tie-dye shirt is perched on top of a plaid sagging couch flipping through a Green Lantern comic. She looks up and smiles. "You're here with five minutes to spare Kate," she says.
"I don't understand why your coach makes you practice so late," says the teenage boy sitting the middle of the couch. He is wearing ratty jeans with a Halo T-shirt. He closes his Dune book. "You know studies show that teens perform the best athletically at-"
"Shut up Reid 97" the girls say in unison.
He throws his hands up in the air. "When will I become Reid Vista? Or better yet, let's switch software systems!"
"Not a chance Cory," Kate says as she pulls a Gatorade out of the mini-fridge. She then looks to the girl. "So Sarah, are you going to be at my game on Saturday?"
Sarah shakes her head. "I'm on twin patrol that day. Mr. and Mrs. Connell are running in that ALS society marathon."
Kate hits her face. "I forgot about that!" She walks over and falls into the couch. "I wish I could be in that. Ma Connell was such a sweet lady. Instead I'm forced to-"
"Guys the show is starting!" Cory shouts as he turns on the TV.
Sarah lies down across the top of the couch. Her face is a few inches from Kate's. "I kind love this show," she says lightly.
Kate keeps her eyes on the screen. "It still feels weird coming down here to watch a show about serial killers to relax."
"But they always catch them at the end," Sarah says.
"Almost always," Cory says.
"There is also watching Rossi and envisioning him as your coach," Sarah says.
Kate takes a big gulp of her drink and then lets out sigh. "What I would give for that to happen."
2
A gray-haired woman wearing a blue jumper with a white a blouse is leaning over a set of spelling tests spread across a kitchen table. She looks up at the microwave clock and dashes out of the room. She sinks into her overstuffed recliner and turns on the TV with the remote. She adjusts the framed photo of a young woman with auburn hair standing in front of the United Nations Building as she puts the remote back on the end table.
3
A young woman wearing a green Octavian University hoodie over pink pajama bottoms walks into a dorm leisure area with a look of disgust on her face. "So this is what you reserved the entire dorm lounge for Dylan! To watch TV!"
A young man wearing glasses and a white T-shirt over green striped pants looks up at her over his computer. "It is for school work Zoe. I'm writing the show up for COM 300," Dylan says breezily.
Zoe throws herself into a duct-tape covered chair. "You wrote up this show for two other classes!"
A girl reading Helter Skeltor looks up. "I can't figure how you used it in medieval lit."
Dylan looks at her, shocked. "Hello, 'The Fisher King?' Literary themes used to kill people. That was the first paper I wrote without paraphrasing an entire Spark Notes book."
"You wouldn't have gotten away with that in Gold's class," Zoe says resentfully.
A lanky young man carrying a bag of chips appears. "I never thought I'd ever enjoy reading a sociology essay until I read your's describing something about Freud, Karl Marx, and the psycho who hunted women to be in his movie while keeping his dead mother in his house," he says with a laugh and pops some chips into his mouth.
"Aaron Clifford is psychotic!" Zoe says angrily. "He is obsessed with creepy crap. You just wrote out some gruesome descriptions and randomly threw quotes from the books in to make it look decent."
"And you are still pissed that I got a better grade than you in the class," Dylan replies smugly.
She grabs an empty water bottle and throws it at him. It hits another man carrying a mug of coffee. It surprises the man but he doesn't spill anything. He looks at her through his long brown bangs and smiles. "Nice throw ace," he says as he takes a seat next to her.
"Sorry Tom," Zoe says sincerely.
"You've got to stop letting the guy get under your skin," Tom says quietly and taps her gently on the chin. "You'll get Suma your way and he'll get Cum some… how…"
The chair creaks as Zoe lets her head fall back. "There's no denying the fact that you can learn a lot from that crime procedural. It's just so-"
Tom cuts her off. "So what is the topic for this paper Dill?" he asks.
"This one is not that big a stretch actually," Dylan replies. "Did you know that there something called 'safe harbor' viewing period? It is the time when the networks can air their mature material. Would you believe that this show airs outside that harbor?"
"In this day and age, yes," Zoe says.
"Grandma would have flipped her lid if she knew I was watching this sick stuff," the guy with the chips says.
The girl closes her book. "Better this over 'Teen-Mom,'" she says and reaches for the remote.
Tom nods his head. "Yes I do believe watching a macabre law enforcement drama is better than watching depressing teen 'baby-mama' drama," he says.
Zoe stares around dubiously. "Well when you put it like that…"
4
A man in his mid thirties with closely-cropped blond hair is writing a series of equations feverishly on a mahogany desk. He throws his tie off with a grunt of frustration and it bounces against an MIT diploma with the name Craig Finley on it. He jumps when the computer on his desk beeps.
The words "CM TIME" flash across the screen.
He sits back into his green leather chair and feels around for the remote. He switches on the TV. A slight smile appears on his face as he pulls out his five year chip and rubs it between his fingers.
5
A young woman with purple streaked hair admires her set of three computer screens. "Well it's a start," she says.
"A pretty awesome start Annie!" a young woman with two black braids held together with yellow bat-clips appearing the middle monitor says. "That's one more than me! You're practically Oracle!"
Annie laughs. "If I was Oracle Jen I'd be able to hack into the Pentagon without ending up on a terrorist watch list."
"Prescott academy was a good start," Jen says. "Someone needed to expose how that fund-raising money was being used to give the cheerleaders 'enhancements'"
Annie laughs. "Maybe I'll try hacking a prep school next," she says and then notices her phone beeping. "It's almost show time," she says.
"I don't understand why you just don't DVR it or even hack CBS to watch the show whenever you want," Jen says.
Annie sits back in her padded computer chair. "I like to think of it as a ritual. A once-weekly time period dedicated to watching the beautiful genius that is Penelope Garcia in action with the rest of the country."
"No one makes sparkly purple glasses, yellow butter-fly clips, pink beads, as kick-as as Penelope Garcia," Jen says appreciatively as she begins to move her mouse around. "Later cadet G-Woman," she says.
"See you soon Baby-girl Proxy," Annie says Jen's monitor goes blank and she turns on her TV.
6
A light-brown haired man in his early forties enters his ranch house. He turns on a light and kicks his shoes off at the door and walks almost tipsily through the house. He drops brief case on the kitchen table as he goes to the fridge and pulls out a beer. He notices the time on the clock hanging above the sink and grabs some folders out of his bag as he saunters into the living room. He sits on the couch, puts his beer on the end table and the files on the coffee table.
After he turns on the TV he flips through files. They are missing persons reports filed in the last five weeks. As the show progresses the frown lines on his forehead relax and look of peace spreads across his face.
7
"Honey you're too young to be watching this," a balding man late thirties says when he sees a blond girl in pink pajamas curled up on a sofa in front of the TV.
"But Dad I like it!" the girl says pleadingly.
"Honey this show is for grown-ups. People get hurt in very violent and scary ways. You shouldn't be watching this," he says as he reaches for remote.
"But I turn it off when the really bad stuff happens! I just like the characters. I'd love to have a brother like Reid and an aunt like Garcia," she says as she blocks his path.
"Sophie those people aren't real," he says and grabs remote from behind her and snaps the TV off.
Sophie stomps her foot. "Well you don't seem real all the time either!" she shouts. "You and Mommy are always yelling. Arguing over what school I should go to and what holidays to spend with her or with you and April. You don't care about anything that I like!" She says as tear drops down her face. "You don't know me at all!" she says and runs upstairs.
The man is left alone down stairs, looking lost. He rubs his forehead. He feels a tear form and quickly wipes it away.
He goes upstairs and knocks on daughter's door. "Honey?" he says.
"Go away!" she shouts through the door.
He opens the door and finds Sophie curled up in a ball at the head board. He sits on the blue floral bedspread and studies the patterns. "Soph, I know I haven't been the best dad lately and I'm sorry. I promise to work harder at being the dad you deserve."
Sophie lets out a derisive grunt. "But that won't change anything tonight. Will it?" she says.
"Actually it will. Why don't you come down stairs and we can watch the show together?" he asks. "You can tell me about these cool characters and I'll turn off the TV when I think it gets to graphic. Does that sound fair?"
Sophie's expression softens and her father smiles. "I'll make hot cocoa with marshmallows."
She perks up immediately. "Real marshmallows?"
He smiles mischievously. "I still remember where your mother hides them."
She is too big for him to carry like he used to but he manages to hug her on to her feet and guide her through the door. She begins to talk about the show.
"In one episode Reid tries to blow out the candles on his birthday cake, but they won't go out because they're trick candles like the ones used on Zack's cake! The next time…"
8
The room has faded jungles scenes painted on the walls. Books are piled everywhere. Clothes are scattered across the floor. A graduation gown hangs on the front of the closet door. The deep red bedspread is covered in financial aid forms and a laptop is positioned in the corner.
Then suddenly a young blond woman wearing silver glasses and a purple Octavian University T-shirt over khaki pants rushes in. She throws her name tag lanyard over a bed post as plops on her bed. She rolls on her side and opens her laptop. With a few a rapid clicks she finds her the rough draft of her latest blog entry titled: "How Spencer Reid inspired me connect with an Autistic child."
After typing a few more lines she glances at the clock in the corner of the screen. She fumbles around for the remote and turns on the TV to see Garcia, J.J., Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and Morgan seated side-by-side at a table in a Senate hearing room.
Everything turns dark again for the last time.
…
Author's Note:
I really don't know where to begin. There are a ton of ideas here and I'm not sure how many of them worked. I actually have at least four more in me but I felt the need to stop here and consider adding them later and maybe taking out a few.
I kept asking myself: Who watches Criminal Minds? I chose people with different viewpoints. But I didn't want to describe "super" fans with pictures of Mathew Gray Gubbler pasted over all their walls. I did draw some inspiration from the profiles of the fan writers on this site. I mainly wanted to describe the average people who decide to turn on the TV at 9:00 and a Wednesday to watch these characters save the day. I wish I had more time to write a few more of these out. I really do.
The mechanics need cleaning and I'm thinking of more interesting transition sequences.
So would anyone care to guess which one is me? I'm guessing that it is fairly obvious. I'll provide a detailed explanation when I finish the story by the end of the weekend. I wish I could say sooner but I have some very hectic days ahead of me.