FTX: FIELD TRANING EXERCISE
By AussieHottieMjM

DISCLAIMER
I (unfortunately) do not own Profiler or any of the characters. I am merely a shameless fangirl who is distraught by the abrupt end of the show, and must naturally continue it through fic. ;)

RATING
This fic is rated K+ for adult situations.

SYNOPSIS
One take on how the others learn the same revelations Nate did about John "Grant" and his father, Patrick O'Doyle.

SETTING
The following is a "missing" scene from FTX.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
This was written in response to a "deleted scene" fan fiction challenge at Profiler Fans on LiveJournal.

x x x

A vein bulged from Art Behar's forhead. He had anticipated a degree of protection, but not this much. He had to do something to alter the VCTF's trust in each other. And John Grant was the way to do it. He still believed one thousand percent that it was Bailey Malone, but John "O'Doyle" was the way to break the famous bond of the VCTF. Behar had not missed the look of surprise on Brubaker's face. It only lasted for a second before Brubaker had remembered to hide his emotions, but he hadn't caught it fast enough for Art Behar.

If Nathan Brubaker, John Grant's best friend, was shaken up by this startling piece of news, how would the others take it? Hard. He quickly began plotting his approach.

x x x

"Thanks," John said curtly before scurrying away as fast as he could; but Nate saw right through him.

"Hold up," Nate said as he grabbed ahold of John's wrist gently but forcefully. John looked deep into his best friends eyes, a look of - oddly - betrayal found deep within them. "Why didn't you tell me?" John's gaze fell straight to the floor. "We've been best friends for so long. And you didn't trust me enough with this?"

"No, Nate, that's not it!" John responded, shock mixed with shame. "I... I didn't want my lineage to effect my life now. I didn't want my dad to give you a different impression of who I am."

"You are and always will be, to me, John Grant, Best Damn Cop. Not John 'Grant' O'Doyle, Son of Loanshark.' Got it?" John slowly and hesitantly shook his head. He appreciated what Nate said, but there was always a part of John questioning even those closest to him. But Nate smiled and added, "I forgot you were from Boston. Do you hide the accent or did you just lose it over time?" John smirked.

Nate threw a friendly arm around John and the two - thanks to Nate giving John a renewed attitude - strutted back across the building to the command center where the rest of the team was anxiously awaiting the news.

"Well?" Bailey asked, clearly the most nervous.

"'Well' what?" asked John casually but teasingly.

"Come on, John," responded George. "What do they have on you?"

"Just a lockbox. Had some savings, a few tax-related items, and," John grinned, "the bullet from my shoulder."

George shook his head, now entertained by the situation. "I bet the look on Behar's face was priceless when he didn't find anything!"

"On the contrary," said Art Behar as he entered the room, his stance alone demanding attention. "Bailey got a break. He's now number two on the list." John swallowed hard. He wouldn't... would he?

George looked questioningly from Behar to John, and back to Behar again. "What do you mean?"

"It has come to my attention that John could have been feeding information to the Irish mob for years."

"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard in my entire life!" exclaimed Sam, surprising even John, who showed an appreciate smile.

Bailey sat frozen, as if he knew something the others didn't. In fact, he was the one person John had confided his past to, a year and a half ago.

"But please Bailey, you gotta keep it a secret!" a slightly younger and flushed John told the FBI legend. "I haven't even told Nate about it."

Bailey had kept quiet. He couldn't believe what this case had turned into. The Irish mob was connected most definately, but there just was no way to prove it. Now John had shed light on why he had been so hesitant throughout it. And Bailey knew the young man was intiminated by his father. "Don't worry, John," Bailey had said reassuringly. "It's under lock-and-key with me." And Bailey pulled John into a fatherly hug.

"So you see," finished Behar so loudly that it had snapped Bailey out of his thoughts, "John is working for his father, Patrick O'Doyle."

The room was silent for a long while as almost everyone within visinity had bore their eyes deeply into John's figure, untrustworthy and insecure. All except Bailey. All except Sam. All except George. All except Grace. And all except Nathan. His family trusted him through and through. And it was then that John realized just how close he and the team had gotten over the past year.

"John Grant," Bailey emphasized, "is one of the best damn cops to ever pass through the FBI." Bailey arose from his chair, straight and intimidating, and walked over by John. It was his job to protect this team, and he was going to do it. Then he felt a body close behind him. He turned his vision slightly to see Nate standing as well. One by one, Sam, Grace, and George also made their way over.

"You won't break us," Sam said firmly. "We're family."

Behar slowly turned, his vein bulging once more, and stomped back to Bailey's office to think up anything else he could.

"And besides," Grace added once Behar was out of earshot, "without John, who would be the butt of our jokes?"