A/N: okay, a little bit of a short one this time, more to come soon. Please review and make me happy :-)
oOo
The Bullpen, J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building
935 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington DC, Tuesday 09.11 AM
Bobby sat at his desk, feet on it, leaning back flipping through a file. Jack's desk was empty, so was D.'s. Sue, Tara and Lucy were huddled behind Sue's computer looking at baby-pictures Emily, one of Sue's friends, had sent.
Myles walked in. He stopped in the middle of the room. 'It's good to be back', he said with an impish smile on his face. They looked at him. 'What better rousing environment than to be in the midst of my beloved colleagues', he said looking round the room approving. He met skeptical faces. He shook his head, while waving his finger admonishing. 'All work and no play. People, people...'
'Hoity-toity, if it isn't Hooray Henry', Bobby said in a haughty manner. Myles walked over and in one single move he pushed Bobby's feet off his desk. 'Remember we're not Down Under here anymore, Koala Boy.' He sat down.
'Ow, did it hurt to crash on planet Earth again?' Myles ignored him. 'Where is our fearless team-leader, and Gans? Without him this team is seriously weighing on my expertise alone.'
'They're playing hooky, with Garrett.' Bobby stretched out a little and yawned. 'That makes you our man in command. Any plans of attack ready?'
'Surely there has to be some affray which needs our attention. I suggest you all find one.'
Sue chuckled. 'We're already in the midst of something.' Myles raised one brow. 'Browsing through toddlers snapshots would hardly be something our tax-payers would appreciate.'
'As long as it's just pictures', Bobby said, 'it's better than bringing one of the little grafters.' He held up the file to shield off the gums and paper pellets the women were throwing at him.
oOo
'Well, well. Good to see everybody's up and running', Jack commented when he walked in together with D.
He held up a copy of the Washington Post. 'Anyone by any chance read this mornings' copy?'
'How could I? I'm usually frantically trying not to get stuck in traffic', Bobby replied. 'Reading a newspaper wouldn't be something I could do during that.'
'I'll take that as a no.'
'Make that a double one.'
He looked round at the others. 'Well?' Sue raised her hand. 'I read it, but what are you specifically after?' D. pursed his lips amused. 'As usual you're cutting right to the chase.'
'A drug bust in Southeast. A big one.' Myles scowled a little. 'They're raiding more houses than during the Blitz, so what's new?'
'True, nothing new so far. But it seems the problems are overwhelming DC Metro.'
'Call in the crazy dope-heads of the DEA', Bobby added.
'They have', D. said. 'But it seems working with them isn't as rewarding as it seems. Something Sue can tell you first hand.' He looked at her.
Sue nodded. She remembered Pete Hadley way too good, when the undercover agent got shot and Hadley nearly succeeded in blaming her, almost losing her credibility and her job. Oh, yes, she remembered. She smiled a little smile. 'Not something I enjoyed', she said.
'That's why our beloved Diana Grove called us, or better, Jack to help them.'
'And basically frustrate the DEA when we come crashing in', Myles said. He ran a hand over his chin. His face lit up with an unholy glee. 'I'm always into pestering these fake G-men.' He spun his chair round to face Bobby.
'What?', the Aussie said. 'November 12th', was all he said, while his eyes pierced Bobby's.
'Ah...', he said looking sad. Myles twisted his face in contempt. 'That's all you can say? Ah..?', he said.
He got up and menacingly hung over his desk towards Bobby. He rolled up his sleeves and waved his hand admonishing. 'Because of Crocodile Dundee here we lost Myrtle's Girdle...'
'Get a grip on reality, Hooray Henry...', Bobby sat up straight and slammed his file on the desk. He leaned over to face the blonde agent's dark looks, semi-agitated. Both men stared each other in the eyes.
'...for the first time in ten years...', Myles continued with a tempered voice.
'...thanks to a lousy coach...', Bobby cut through.
Demitrius patted both of them on the shoulders. 'Pitch-fights only after work, lads.' The other were laughing, but Myles could only spare a half-hearted grin, so did Bobby.
'I'm in, Mick Dundee, what about you?'
'We need a better coach...', Bobby chimed.
Jack swatted the back of his head with his newspaper.
'Okay, people. Serious now. Diana Grove wants us to help DC Metro out...', he began.
'And you couldn't resist her plea did you, Spark?', Bobby joked. 'What about Diana, anyway, eh? She's quite a foxy lady.' Jack gave him another swat.
'I said we could lend them a hand, here and there. But nothing full-time. So, we do this one next to the things we're hired to do. They happy, we happy.'
'Except for the DEA', Myles grinned mischievously.
