Hey all! Haven't written for this story in ages, but what the hell… Profiler and Crossing Jordan don't belong to me, and the song is 'Never Get caught' by American Head Charge.

          "Is it possible for you to shut the fuck up-

          Follow me now and I will drown you

          Fill you full of reason

          No windows I'll take you

          To the dirty place that I love

         

          Slipping on messes

          You made when I hit you

Makes me more excitable

I'll never get caught

I'll never get caught

Pull it tight

I'll see right through it…"

         

          "How can you listen to this garbage?" a familiar voice says with obvious distaste behind me.

          "Quite easily, actually…I mean, hell…you're a serial killer who listens to jazz and classical music. If I were you old boy I wouldn't begin to judge."

          He peers over my shoulder at the current story I'm working on, and I can tell by the long drawn out silence that he's not pleased by what he's reading.

          "What the fuck…this isn't even a Profiler fic!"

          "Well no shit Sherlock…God Jack, for a serial killer sometimes you never cease to amaze me with your utter lack of observation," I reply icily, continuing to write.

          "Well what is it then?"

          "A Crossing Jordan fic."

          "Crossing Jordan…don't tell me your spending all your time and energy writing that," He spat out angrily.

          "No, I'm not…just dividing my time. Besides, I think it's a good idea to expand my writing horizons anyways. Writing for different genres will help me not get bored with Profiler."

          "Well why don't you start writing a story about that dream you had a couple nights ago?"

          "You mean the one about the mental institution riot? I'm starting on it, but I just haven't gotten the logistics laid out for it yet."

          "…Am I gonna be in it?"

          I turned around to look into his icy blue eyes and grinned.

          "Would you like to be?"

          "Depends on if I get offed in the end."

          "You probably would. Besides, Sid is one of my main baddies, not you."

          "Who the hell is Sid?"

          "A very bad boy."

          "Can't you give me a better hint than that?"

          "No, because then I'd be giving it away."

          "C'mon…please?"

          "Did I just hear you correctly? One of the most feared serial killers on TV asking if he 'could please have a hint?'"

          "…You're not funny."

          "Damn…and I was trying so hard on my stand-up routine…"

          "Sarcasm doesn't become you, Icequeen."

          "I've heard that a lot lately."

          "I still think you shouldn't be working on Crossing Jordan fic. You have enough problems getting your Profiler ones finished…like…'The Fragile,' or 'Pain'…you should be getting those done first before doing something totally different."

          "Oh buzz off, Jack…I'm not the only one that posts to two or more fandoms. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were slightly jealous that I'm doing so, actually. As for 'The Fragile', I'm almost done with that one."

          "I should hope so…Christ, you've been working on that damned thing for more than a year."

          "What can you say…deadlines and I don't mix."

          "And I'm not jealous."

          "You're lying." I turn my attention back to the story.

          "Am not."

          "Are too."

          "Am not."

          "Are too…and are we gonna be doing this little back and forth thing all day or are you going to torture Rachel some more?"

          "Nah, I stopped doing that…wasn't really all that much of a challenge."

          "…A shame…"

          "Besides, when have I ever done you SABERS any favors?"

          "Well, we kill you off in various messy ways…"

          "Besides that."

          "Hmm…well…you killed Coop…even though that was a bad thing to do," I added hastily. "Sam loved him a lot."

          "That was fun," He sighed, plopping himself down on the couch. "Ah, the good old days…"

          "Before Sharon betrayed your egotistical ass?"

          "I thought she'd be easier to mold…to break," He growled flatly, clearly not liking where I was going with the conversation. "I…I guess I might have been mistaken."

          "'Might have'?" I begin to laugh. "Ooh, that's funny…"

          "Listen, I got to go. Figured I'd stop by and see if you were finally ready to join the Dark Side, but obviously you're not mature enough to realize that Sam and I belong together."

          "'Not mature enough'…Jack, when you say stuff like that, it makes it hard to believe that you aren't full of shit."

          "Yeah well…it's part of my charm," Jack laughed softly before he left as mysteriously as he came. "Until next time…"