Part IX

Hospitals were not among Munch's favorite places to be. They didn't even hit the top 100. On his personal scale, he'd rather endure a probe on an alien spacecraft. Not that he wasn't already convinced that his nurse was from another planet. No-one remotely human could possibly be alive and have hands that cold. He also suspected her of using those artic hands of hers to chill the bedpan prior to handing it to him for use.

Munch was currently trying to amuse himself by reading a book that Fin had bought for him - 'UFOs, JFK and Elvis' written by some guy named Belzer. He was actually finding it fairly entertaining even though it really didn't add anything new to what he already knew on those conspiracy theories. He heard the door opening and subconsciously shivered as the thought of Nurse Iceberg-hands ran through his head.

To his relief and surprise, it was Derek, brown bag in hand. Munch marked his place and closed the book, setting on the small nightstand.

"Agent Morgan - come right on in. Pull up a bedpan and have a seat."

"I will in a minute. I just wanted to check to see if you were awake for a visitor."

Continuing to hold the door open, Derek moved to the side slightly. Even though Munch had never gotten a good look at her before, he didn't have any doubts who the six-year-old girl was. As she shyly stepped into the room, Derek started the introductions.

"The two of you never had a chance to before, so Detective John Munch, meet Miss Bracha Thompson."

Munch's voice took a softer tone that Derek hadn't hear the usually brash detective use before.

"Miss Bracha. I need to apologize to you, I didn't mean -"

What he was saying came to a stop as she suddenly rushed over to him and hugged him - thankfully grabbing hold of his arm, not his ribcage. Then he felt the wetness on his arm and knew she was crying. Crying females of any age tneded to get to to him even if he didn't always show it. He carefully shifted so that he could use his free hand to draw her slightly closer.

"Hey, it's okay. Let it out."

Movement at the door caught his attention and Munch saw a man moving to stand near Morgan, but the man's eyes were focused on the girl. He took an educated guess and spoke.

"Are you Bracha's father?"

The man had an accent that sounded Jamaican to Munch.

"Yes I am. Aaron Thompson. I just want to thank you for bringing her back to me. I could have lost everything."

Feeling at a slight loss because no-one had spoken to him about the case yet, Munch still noted the use of the singular her in the man's statement and again took a guess. He lifted the arm that Bracha wasn't attached to and offered it to him.

"Mister Thompson, I'm just sorry that we couldn't have done more."

They waited then until Bracha finished crying and was finally able to accept Munch's apology and give him her thanks in return. Derek just remained to the side, watching quietly until the father and daughter said their goodbyes and left.

"Feel better, Detective Munch?"

"Hey, we faced down a nut job and rescued Bracha together. Call me John."

In that case, call me Derek. Oh - might be slightly melted by now, but your regular partner said I should sneak you one of these. You're a milkshake man?"

"Fig?"

"Yep. Fig. You know, I don't think I've ever heard of a fig milkshake before."

"It is the nectar of the gods. Or at least of older Jewish detectives. Gimme."

Derek chuckled and surrendered the bag to Munch, watching as he unwrapped the straw and stuck it in to get his first sip.

"Keep an eye out for the nurses. They tend to be spoilsports. So, Derek? What happened after Fin and I left?"

Settling into the chair near Munch's bed, Derek gave a sigh.

"We found Bracha's mother like we were afraid we would. From the coroner's report, she probably died around the time Clary approached us."

"And that sick SOB killed her in front of Bracha?"

"Yeah. He did. That was one reason Mister Thompson agreed to let her come to see you. She was afraid he was going to come back after her again. Seeing you alive was her proof that he's not coming back ever."

"Good. I'm glad I was able to do something for her."

"You did plenty for her, John. She's alive and she's back with her dad. I've worked on so many cases where there's no happy ending for anyone that I'll take what victories I can see and hang onto them for all they're worth."

Munch nodded slowly.

"You have a point. This was far from a win, but it could have ended a helluva lot worse than it did. Bracha means blessing. That's as good a way to view the way this turned out as any. If he'd had his way, there'd be a lot more dead."

"Definately. You wouldn't believe the stockpile he had down in that basement. Brooklyn's bomb squad is still cleaning that up."

Taking another long sip of the shake, Munch shifted topics.

"You and your team heading off for redder pastures?"

Chuckling, Morgan leaned forward a bit.

"Can't say as I've heard it referred to that way before, John, but yes. We fly out tonight heading for Oklahoma."

"Oklahoma. The only state shaped like one of those foam 'we're number one' hands. Good luck on your case out there. You've got a good bunch. That Doctor Reid of yours intrigues me, but I think your Garcia would probably give me heart failure."

"My baby girl is special, that's a fact. With Reid, I doubt the two of you would run out of things to talk about – which is why I refuse to ever be in the same room with you and him. You both pull up enough random topics without any encouragement. Speaking of which, what was all that business with the mind control rays from New Jersey?"

"Well, I haven't found any other explanations for New Jersey, though I'm certainly willing to entertain other ideas."

Shaking his head, Derek rose from the chair and offered Munch his hand.

"You're one of a kind, John. Which is probably best for the world as we know it."

Taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly, Munch just smirked again.

"You have a valid point there, Derek. Hey, if my partner and your Italian ever do decide to elope, I'd take you in any time."

"Same here. Take care of yourself, John. Enjoy the milkshake."

"Oh I will – to both. Give my regards to the rest of the BAU team. I appreciated getting freed without gaining additional holes to my body."

"I will definitely give them your regards."

"Thanks. Oh, and Derek? For a one-night stand? You were great."

They parted then to the sound of Derek's laughter. Despite the dirty looks he got from a few of the nurses that he passed, Derek didn't manage to fully stop laughing until after he left the hospital.

Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from an event, deal with it and then move on. ~Bob Newhart