**picture: Hoover Building, FBI HQ, Washington DC
Brock left the staff kitchen with his tea mug and walked in no hurry down the hall to Cassidy's office.
"Hey, Brock! Wait!"
He stopped to wait for Russell, who joined him from the elevators with his usual good mood.
"Am I too late?"
"No, I just got here too."
Like every morning since they went back to active service a week ago, just after the Holidays, they were about to join the Section Chief to have a brief online conference with the brass and CT, to assess any news. Sometimes Counter Terrorism fell short to cover all the threats and follow up all the hints that kept coming in like a flood ever since the Paris attacks, so these briefings were useful to determine which units would work better to cover the issues CT couldn't handle with their own staff.
Brock and Russell had suggested a couple of times they could take on some of those probable cases, because they both hated being stuck in DC while the whole Bureau all over the country was so busy. But the Director suggested Brock's opinion was more valuable than having him bouncing around, chasing shadows. And Russell should wait a little longer to get back to the field, to be fully recovered from his lesions. So they could but thank the Director for being so thoughtful. And made a tacit deal to take the slightest chance to get the hell out of there.
Cassidy welcomed them with his morning coffee and a smile that made Brock narrow his eyes. He knew that smile. It was a prologue to Cassidy's dreadful smirk. What did he have in store for them this time? Before they could even trade a word, several windows showed up on the large screen across the office and the meeting started.
They'd been discussing strategies for half an hour when Medley said, "We have a possible case of bio terrorism in Savannah, Georgia. I sent the Boston team to check on it, considering one of them is a biochemist. They're on the way as we speak."
Brock paid attention. 'The Boston team' was Gillian's.
"Good call," said the Director with his benevolent smile.
"About that," said Cassidy, who usually kept quiet unless somebody addressed him directly. He waited to have the attention of the brass and the CT heads. "She called five minutes before we got started here. After taking a look at the file, she requested a profiler to join her team for this."
The Director nodded, very serious now. "Okay, you pick a BAU agent to join her, Roy."
Brock saw it out of the corner of his eye. There it was—Cassidy's little smirk.
"That's the problem. Most of the BAU is away from DC. And the agents left are not nearly qualified to handle a possible bio attack.
"And you have none at our field office in Savannah?" asked Medley.
"All our profilers are stationed here," replied the Deputy Director, silencing any further argument from the CT Section Chief.
"So what do you have in mind, Roy?" asked the Wright.
"I know Gillian. If she's asking for that kind of backup, it means she suspects something above her own profiling skills. And that cannot be overlooked. So we have to give her what she needs. They're landing here in thirty to pick up somebody to help them out. Agent Coleman here is available. And we all know Brockner is one of our most experienced profilers when it comes to terrorism."
Brock set his jaw and forced himself to keep his blank scowl, not to jump to his feet and run out the office to grab his go-bag. He even avoided eye contact with Russell, afraid of giving himself away. He didn't register a single word they said after that. It'd been two months since he'd last seen her or talked to her. And he'd be damned if he allowed anybody else to spend a couple of days working with her.
Not only because he honestly missed her around—and missed working with her even more. It'd be the first time they'd be really face to face after that harsh conversation at her office, after the Libra copycats case. And there were many things he needed to talk with her. He didn't expect her to be exactly happy at seeing him. He knew she'd gear up in heavy armor as soon as they met again. But working together, maybe he'd manage to get through minefields and barbed-wired trenches to actually reach her. He needed a chance to try. And if he was really lucky, maybe he'd be able to tell her at least a little something about his feelings—without getting punched in the face as an answer.
Russell standing up startled him. He looked up, saw Russell's bright smile and knew they were on. And the conference was over? So he had no choice but facing Cassidy's smirk.
Russell was already at the door. "I'll grab our go-bags, Brock. Meet me at the parking lot," he said on his way out.
Brock raised his eyebrows at Cassidy, as if asking if he was dismissed too.
All the Section Chief said was, "Have a safe flight, Brockner. Tell Gillian I said hi."
So he nodded and stood up, consistently ignoring how much Cassidy enjoyed the whole situation.