Okay. Let's hope this isn't a load of bullshit, because ain't nobody got time fo' that. Read, review, favorite and all that good shit, okay? Yes. Thank you, and do like my url says and have a great day! X
Stephenson POV (I don't like it either, but it must be done)
These damned kids will be the death of me. I mean, how hard was it, really, to just drive 3 people to an airport and be back by 4 in the afternoon. It was Sunday, so the traffic would have been light, so I don't see how in God's name that Lewis girl wasn't back by now. Dunham returned an hour ago, and even though it wasn't protocol to return to head quarters without your partner, I could understand. She was an annoying, know-it-all pain in the ass, and honestly, I was glad for the quiet.
It gave me at least a moment's peace, from her God awful, shrilling voice, sounding off throughout my precinct.
Why did I even hire that woman?
Oh yeah, that's right. On paper, she was just as incredible as any other officer to graduate with full honours. She was smart too, maybe even one of the smartest people I had ever met, but nevertheless, still annoying.
I twirled the biro pen in my hand, hovering over the contract that had been delivered to me earlier this morning. Lewis' transfer papers. We would both have to sign, and for that to happen, she needed to get back here. Just because she got a taste of that damned BAU, doesn't mean she deserves to go there, in my eyes. But apparently, what I think doesn't matter, because she is, and I quote, 'an astounding, overqualified police officer, who has served their city with pride and professionalism'.
Yeah, my ass she has.
She does nothing but sit behind that computer, every single day she's here, day in, day out, doing nothing productive or helpful to my cases, and what? She gets a promotion? What kind of bullshit is that? I glanced at the clock, and, with a scowl set onto my features, I noted the time, finding that she was now an hour and a half late coming back from the airport. What the fuck was she doing? Shopping?
For God's sake, could she just hurry up and get back? My superiors have alerted me to a meeting they wanted to have with her, however they didn't give me a date - for all I knew, they could be here within the next few minutes. I swear, I don't know what they saw in her. She was nothing more than a standard police officer, plus, she's so fucking irritating. Always going on and on about some other crap nobody here gave a shit about, and we just dealt with it because I knew from experience that she'd just come back, full force, not a moment later, ruining my, as well as everyone else's, day.
I took another brisk swig of my coffee, and briefly ran over Lewis' file - skipping over the inconsequential nonsense like school and arrest accounts, which I already knew were as pristine as freshly pressed linen, and straight to her track record. I still didn't know why they wanted to speak with her, and I wasn't about to be caught out because I chose not to read up on my homework.
Without glancing up, I hollered, "Dunham! Get in here! Now!"
My voice was loud enough to have been heard throughout the entire precinct, but I liked to scare the officers. Keep them on their toes. It made me chuckle to see the fear trickle into their expressions, and when I hear their voices shake in pure terror, it made a vindictive smile bristle onto my features. Oh, what a beautiful feeling.
"Y-Yes sir, is there something y-you need?"
Charles Dunham, a 30-something, spineless, father of three, stumbled into my office, mumbling and stuttering over his words. People like him feared me because of what I looked like; tall, bulky, broad and pure muscle. Thank heavens I was born the way I was - I couldn't imagine being one of those scrawny types. My glare was derisive and overflowed with irritation when I enquired, "Where did you say you left Lewis?"
He paused for a moment, and at my perturbed cough, spat out, "W-Well, she went to give the pilots the suitcases, then came back, I suppose. By that time I had already left. I didn't really see her after she went to the cockpit."
Curling my lip in what would appear to be an intimidating manner, I bellowed, "Okay, now leave!"
He scampered out so quickly, I felt myself chuckle, deeply, as my door closed behind him. I took another sip of my coffee, and picked up my phone, preparing to call her once more. The last two times, her phone rang a few times then went to voicemail, so it was still on, but she was just ignoring me. That I did not take lightly to. Thankfully, a third time is a charm, and she answered her phone.
"Lewis, where the hell are you?!"
"Who said this was Lewis?"
The voice was sinister, bitingly aggression, and very much male. Baffled at being spoken to in such a disrespectful way, I roared back, "Put her on the phone, young man!"
The mystery man chuckled, darkly, and replied, "I'm sorry, she's a little.. Incapacitated right now. I'll be sure to take a message, though."
I spluttered and stammered in anger, and snarled, once more, "Listen, you son of a bitch, put her on the phone, or I swear, I will find you, and lock you up so quickly, it'll make your head spin!"
He chuckled bitterly, and spat out, "What? Like you did her father? See, the only reason we're here now is because of that bastard. I'm going to hurt this girl. Oh, I'm going to hurt her so bad. I hope you find all the pieces - I wouldn't want this to go to waste, now would I?"
And he hung up. Her father? I didn't know anything about her family life, she never spoke about it.
Jesus Christ.
The force of what had just happened hit me like a freight train. This man had kidnapped her, and I might have just made it that much worse. My God, I need to call SSA Hotchner; he'll know what to do. His team specialises in hostel kidnappings - he'll find her, I'm sure of it. He had to find her.
As much as I might have disliked her, I wouldn't want her dead. Especially not the way he described. Cut into pieces? Nobody would wish that on anyone. The man sounded angry; oh he was so angry. As soon as the shock wore off, I immediately dialled the number of Aaron Hotchner, a number I, unfortunately, had gotten used to calling the last few days. How was I going to tell him that I lost a detective, all because I was negligent? I could lose my job. I could lose more than that, damn it.
"Yes, Captain Stevenson?"
Hotchner's clipped and professional tone sounded through the phone and I paused. I had to compose myself before I said or did something that I would regret later on. The thundering in my stomach over the prospect of losing my only source of income was going to send me insane.
"Y-Yes, sir. I need your help."
He replied, "If you don't mind my asking, sir, we were just in New York City - what could have happened in the last.. Two hours? We've only just stepped off the plane."
"Sir, I have just received a phone call that would suggest that one of my detectives has been kidnapped, and I need your help in finding her."
There was a deep set pause on Hotchner's end, and when he replied, his voice was as cold as ice, "Which detective are you speaking of?"
With a voice full of conviction, I responded, "Detective Charlotte Lewis."
Hope I did a good job, guys!