The Right Choice
by Ohfan007
Author's note and disclaimer: this is a sequel to my first profiler story "But You're..." Most of the characters in this story do not belong to me, but to Sanders/Moses.This came when I noticed some of the characters didn't get closure in my story. I know they usually don't always, but I did want to show how some people reacted to the things in the story. This is the first one, I am not sure how many I will write. I hope everyone enjoys. This is dedicated to God, the cast, my beta reader, Jordan_radcliffe, and all the wonderful readers.
Frances Malone sits on her bed, crying. She wonders she wants to talk to someone, but she doesn't know who. She should call George, but she can't. The whole reason for her problem is because she broke up with him. Though she was a coward about it, and she could have told him at lunch yesterday, but she was scared, too. And he had been so nice to her, though she could tell he was sad about Richard being in prison, and he had opened up to her, when she asked, and had told her about Richard, and Julie. It had been so sweet, to see a person express their true feelings, he had even had tears in his eyes, when he had told her about his life with Richard and Julie. She had never seen a man really cry, yet, she understood when he was fighting to keep the tears in. He needed someone to help him deal with it, but he also, needed to deal with it on his own terms.
It had been a little strange when she had reversed the roles on him, but he didn't try to keep her attention, he had been honest. That had struck a cord in her. It had been such a nice lunch, and she wished they could continue to have lunches like that. She had ruined it though, she would never meet a guy so real, but after she had got back from the lunch, she had felt so empty, she really hadn't said much to him, after she had forced him pratically to tell her his problems, she listened. The first time in her life, she could remember listening to someone so closely. Why did she have to write that letter, when she had gotten home? She should have called him at work, and ask to go out to lunch again, she felt horrible throwing away someone so special. Now, she felt like she was in mourning.He deserved someone who could let him lean on them, whether it be man -or- woman, it seemed when he had described his relationship, he had always been the leaned on, though it may have seemed he had his relationships had been someone he could lean on, he had always been the major strenght in the relationship, not by choice, probably, but because everyone had so many problems, and he couldn't watch someone suffer. Frances knew she would only become dependent on him, she needed someone to lean on, too. And though George would be perfectly happy doing it, she wouldn't be happy. He would still be miserable, deep down, though he may deny it. She knew he was now, It had been six years since his fiance had died, yet he still loved her, and the wound with Richard was just fresh, though George could go visit him in prison, It would still hurt him. He needed someone, to let him bury himself into their chest, and let it all out, instead of someone who would make him hold them forever.
She wonders if she should call Sandra, Veronica, and Viper, and suggest to do something tonight. She needed to do something to wipe this grief away. She was so worried for George, but she couldn't bear his problems, any longer, she had cut off with him. In the end it would be the best for both of them.She looks at the clock, its four o'clock, they could still arrange something.She hears the front door open, and decides to see why her dad is home so early.
"Hey, Dad, what's up?" She asks.
He frowns. "George wanted me to tell you he thinks you're not a coward for writing the letter."
"Oh, so, he's read it already."
Bailey nods. "I would tell you now is not really a good time to break up with him, but I don't think I have any say on the matter."
"Something else happened to George today?" Frances says, picking up some underlying chord in his voice.
Bailey nods. "I am sure, you don't want to hear about it, I am going to take a nap, I am beat, could you make dinner?"
"Sure, but tell me what happened, please?"
"Richard commited suicide." He says, pulling off his jacket, and hat, and hanging them up.
"Is he okay?" Frances asks, not referring to Richard.
"I don't think so, but he has asked to deal with it on his own, and we gave him some time off." He knows who she is talking about.
"Maybe, I should call him..." She stops herself."That probably is a bad idea. I feel bad though, I want to do something for him."
"I am sure you do, but he might not appricate it. Especially after the note.He might though. I am going to check on him tomorrow afternoon, if you want to come with me."
Frances shakes her head. "I don't think it would be right."
"Okay."
"Do you mind if I go out tonight, after dinner?"
"Where?"
"Out, Nowhere bad."
"If you are home by Eleven thirty."
"Tweleve?"
He glares at her. "Eleven thirty! And don't argue with me, Frances!"
She nods."Have a good nap."
He kisses her forehead."Thank you." He goes to his room.
She goes into the kitchen to start dinner. She looks through the freezer, looking for something she can cook. They really need to go shopping sometime, soon. She closes the freezer, disqusted. Rocky road ice cream, the only thing in the freezer, is not a really good thing to eat for dinner. She rummages through the cabinet, finding some macaroni and cheese. She can make that. She sets it on the cabinet. She wants to do something first. She takes a deep breath and walks to the phone. She realizes she doesn't have the number, so she hurries to her room to look for it. She finds the card sitting on her desk, and picks up the phone in her room. She dials quickly, mixing up two of the numbers.
She takes another deep breath, and hangs up the phone. She picks it up again, dialing slowly.
It rings.She stops breathing, waiting for someone to pick it up.
It rings again.She tries to breath again as she hears it being picked up.
"Fraley?"He sounds as if hes been crying.
"I'm sorry wrong number." She says in a fake voice, hanging up. She crumples the card up frustrated, because she is such a coward.
She goes back into the kitchen. She pulls a pot from under the stove, and fills it with cold water from the sink, and puts it on the left front burner, flicking the switch below the range to turn it on. She goes to the phone, dialing a number.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sandra, I was thinking of doing something tonight, with you and the girls, what do you say?"
"What happened to your lil' ol' boyfriend, sugah?"Sandra asks sarcastically.
"It was just a one night stand, Sandy, it didn't mean anything, he wasn't even that good in the sack." Frances lies.
"What ya' mean, ya' been avoiding us like the plaque, every since then?"
"I was avoiding you, I was busy. So, we on for tonight -or- what, we can go duck hunting."
There is a pause as Sandra thinks it over."Sounds, good, what time?" She is interested.
"8."
"See ya' then, I call the others, unless ya' want to."
"I'll call Viper, and you can call Ronnie."
"Bye now."
"Bye."They both hang up. Frances checks on her water, its boiling. She turns it down. She wonders if she is making the right choice.
The End
by Ohfan007
Author's note and disclaimer: this is a sequel to my first profiler story "But You're..." Most of the characters in this story do not belong to me, but to Sanders/Moses.This came when I noticed some of the characters didn't get closure in my story. I know they usually don't always, but I did want to show how some people reacted to the things in the story. This is the first one, I am not sure how many I will write. I hope everyone enjoys. This is dedicated to God, the cast, my beta reader, Jordan_radcliffe, and all the wonderful readers.
Frances Malone sits on her bed, crying. She wonders she wants to talk to someone, but she doesn't know who. She should call George, but she can't. The whole reason for her problem is because she broke up with him. Though she was a coward about it, and she could have told him at lunch yesterday, but she was scared, too. And he had been so nice to her, though she could tell he was sad about Richard being in prison, and he had opened up to her, when she asked, and had told her about Richard, and Julie. It had been so sweet, to see a person express their true feelings, he had even had tears in his eyes, when he had told her about his life with Richard and Julie. She had never seen a man really cry, yet, she understood when he was fighting to keep the tears in. He needed someone to help him deal with it, but he also, needed to deal with it on his own terms.
It had been a little strange when she had reversed the roles on him, but he didn't try to keep her attention, he had been honest. That had struck a cord in her. It had been such a nice lunch, and she wished they could continue to have lunches like that. She had ruined it though, she would never meet a guy so real, but after she had got back from the lunch, she had felt so empty, she really hadn't said much to him, after she had forced him pratically to tell her his problems, she listened. The first time in her life, she could remember listening to someone so closely. Why did she have to write that letter, when she had gotten home? She should have called him at work, and ask to go out to lunch again, she felt horrible throwing away someone so special. Now, she felt like she was in mourning.He deserved someone who could let him lean on them, whether it be man -or- woman, it seemed when he had described his relationship, he had always been the leaned on, though it may have seemed he had his relationships had been someone he could lean on, he had always been the major strenght in the relationship, not by choice, probably, but because everyone had so many problems, and he couldn't watch someone suffer. Frances knew she would only become dependent on him, she needed someone to lean on, too. And though George would be perfectly happy doing it, she wouldn't be happy. He would still be miserable, deep down, though he may deny it. She knew he was now, It had been six years since his fiance had died, yet he still loved her, and the wound with Richard was just fresh, though George could go visit him in prison, It would still hurt him. He needed someone, to let him bury himself into their chest, and let it all out, instead of someone who would make him hold them forever.
She wonders if she should call Sandra, Veronica, and Viper, and suggest to do something tonight. She needed to do something to wipe this grief away. She was so worried for George, but she couldn't bear his problems, any longer, she had cut off with him. In the end it would be the best for both of them.She looks at the clock, its four o'clock, they could still arrange something.She hears the front door open, and decides to see why her dad is home so early.
"Hey, Dad, what's up?" She asks.
He frowns. "George wanted me to tell you he thinks you're not a coward for writing the letter."
"Oh, so, he's read it already."
Bailey nods. "I would tell you now is not really a good time to break up with him, but I don't think I have any say on the matter."
"Something else happened to George today?" Frances says, picking up some underlying chord in his voice.
Bailey nods. "I am sure, you don't want to hear about it, I am going to take a nap, I am beat, could you make dinner?"
"Sure, but tell me what happened, please?"
"Richard commited suicide." He says, pulling off his jacket, and hat, and hanging them up.
"Is he okay?" Frances asks, not referring to Richard.
"I don't think so, but he has asked to deal with it on his own, and we gave him some time off." He knows who she is talking about.
"Maybe, I should call him..." She stops herself."That probably is a bad idea. I feel bad though, I want to do something for him."
"I am sure you do, but he might not appricate it. Especially after the note.He might though. I am going to check on him tomorrow afternoon, if you want to come with me."
Frances shakes her head. "I don't think it would be right."
"Okay."
"Do you mind if I go out tonight, after dinner?"
"Where?"
"Out, Nowhere bad."
"If you are home by Eleven thirty."
"Tweleve?"
He glares at her. "Eleven thirty! And don't argue with me, Frances!"
She nods."Have a good nap."
He kisses her forehead."Thank you." He goes to his room.
She goes into the kitchen to start dinner. She looks through the freezer, looking for something she can cook. They really need to go shopping sometime, soon. She closes the freezer, disqusted. Rocky road ice cream, the only thing in the freezer, is not a really good thing to eat for dinner. She rummages through the cabinet, finding some macaroni and cheese. She can make that. She sets it on the cabinet. She wants to do something first. She takes a deep breath and walks to the phone. She realizes she doesn't have the number, so she hurries to her room to look for it. She finds the card sitting on her desk, and picks up the phone in her room. She dials quickly, mixing up two of the numbers.
She takes another deep breath, and hangs up the phone. She picks it up again, dialing slowly.
It rings.She stops breathing, waiting for someone to pick it up.
It rings again.She tries to breath again as she hears it being picked up.
"Fraley?"He sounds as if hes been crying.
"I'm sorry wrong number." She says in a fake voice, hanging up. She crumples the card up frustrated, because she is such a coward.
She goes back into the kitchen. She pulls a pot from under the stove, and fills it with cold water from the sink, and puts it on the left front burner, flicking the switch below the range to turn it on. She goes to the phone, dialing a number.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sandra, I was thinking of doing something tonight, with you and the girls, what do you say?"
"What happened to your lil' ol' boyfriend, sugah?"Sandra asks sarcastically.
"It was just a one night stand, Sandy, it didn't mean anything, he wasn't even that good in the sack." Frances lies.
"What ya' mean, ya' been avoiding us like the plaque, every since then?"
"I was avoiding you, I was busy. So, we on for tonight -or- what, we can go duck hunting."
There is a pause as Sandra thinks it over."Sounds, good, what time?" She is interested.
"8."
"See ya' then, I call the others, unless ya' want to."
"I'll call Viper, and you can call Ronnie."
"Bye now."
"Bye."They both hang up. Frances checks on her water, its boiling. She turns it down. She wonders if she is making the right choice.
The End