“ViCap?!” Will Graham and Jack Crawford said the word at the same time with the same level of incredulity, neither of which appeared to have any effect on the beautiful but hard looking woman who stood in the room with them.
“Be glad it isn’t back into a jail cell,” she said without any hint of mercy. “Which would have been my preference but when you bring in a high-profile serial killer it appears that gains you special friends.”
“Settling the wrongful arrest lawsuit made those friends,” Will remarked with an innocent expression on his face that earned him a narrowed eye glare from Prurnell, Jack growled in his throat and gave Will a stand down side glance.
“I need Will, right here in the BAU.” He said with firm directness. A man used to getting his own way through the sheer force of his personality. Except Kade Prurnell was a woman who was also used to getting her own way through the sheer force of her personality and she quickly fired back, “Your needs are the least of our concerns, Jack.”
It was at this point that Will decided to slouch down a bit in his chair and hope the both of them forgot he was in the room.
“Look!” Jack stood up going for intimidation through size, but Prurnell was having none of it and stepped right into his desk, finger jabbing in the big man’s direction. It was like watching a chess match with each player vying for dominance over the center of the desk … er … board and Jack was not winning this.
“This is not a discussion, Jack! I am here telling you about the reassignment as a courtesy…”
“COURTESY?!?”
“YES!”
“You are taking one of my strongest assets…”
“Strongest?? Three department psychiatrists agree that Will Graham is an unfit, unstable, broken pony who should be taken out behind the stable and shot!” She paused and looked at Will. “No offense.”
“None taken,” really. It was not anything he had not already called himself, and worse.
Jack looked ready to launch into his next argument but Prurnell got in there first.
“You are never getting field clearance for him again, AND it is on his permanent record that he is never allowed to own or carry a firearm.” She looked at Will flatly. “Not that the last one is any great loss.” Will shrugged. His questionable marksmanship with a pistol was one of the less offensive running jokes about him making its way around the office.
Jack set his hands on his hips. It made him look twice as pugnacious but Will and Prurnell both knew it meant that Crawford was beginning to accept defeat. Will straightened in the chair and picked up the conversation.
“Violent Crimes Apprehension Program,” he spelled out ViCap. “Not like we’re not in the same building,” he offered to Jack only to catch Prurnell’s smirk out of the corner of his eye.
Uh oh.
Jack saw it as well and his bullish shoulders tensed. “What?”
Prurnell leaned back with a smile that was sweet, in the way that cyanide gas had a sweet almond scent.
“Mr. Graham’s doctors feel it would be in his best interests to relocate from the area of such recent trauma. It so happens that the FBI and the US Marshals office have been discussing joint operation initiatives. One of the pilot programs is being stood up as we speak.”
Both Jack and Will wore the same are you shitting me expression. Will recovered his voice first as he shifted in the chair with a humorless snort.
“The FBI and the US Marshals office? Joint … anything? We can’t share a urinal without trying to piss on each other.”
Jack scoffed as Prurnell looked pained.
“Part of why it has been decided that more interagency cooperative efforts…” both Jack and Will groaned like teenage boys having to hear reprimand from the school principal for the hundredth time. Prurnell rolled her eyes and reached for her briefcase. She reached into it and pulled out a file folder, throwing it into Will’s lap and looking smug when he ooofed as the corner caught his crotch.
“Everything you need is in there,” she said without sympathy watching as Graham opened the file.
Wait for it.
Wait for it.
“Harlan Kentucky?” He looked up over his glasses at her. Prurnell smirked. “What? You like remote areas. You report to Chief Mullen two weeks from Monday.”
“Is this our punishment or theirs?” Jack asked in an unpleasant tone. Prurnell just smiled sweetly and turned for the door.
“Don’t think of it as an either/or, Jack.” She paused fingers curled around the door handle. “In this instance the answer is both.”
As the door closed behind her Crawford fell into his chair with a long exhale, like a deflating balloon. He stared at the door for almost three minutes, the silence broken only by the rustle of paper as Will flipped through the file.
“This is bullshit.” Jack said.
“Mmm.” Will acknowledged absently.
“What do they think a forensic profiler is going to do with the US Marshal service?!” Jack was starting to wind back up, but Will ignored him as he read from the file.
“’…assigned to provide support service to the US Marshals in the development of criminal profiles that will aid in the apprehension of fugitives from the law’.”
Jack made a face.
‘That’s like …”
“…teaching my grandmother how to suck eggs?”
Jack snorted. “They are going to hate you.”
Will sighed and shrugged as he pried himself out of the chair. “Can’t be any more annoying about it than Zeller and Price. That’s not what worries me.”
Jack grunted an unspoken inquiry as he began to look back down at his own work.
“Eastern Kentucky without a sidearm? I’m going to be underdressed.”
It's called a joint taskforce
“Be glad it isn’t back into a jail cell,” she said without any hint of mercy. “Which would have been my preference but when you bring in a high-profile serial killer it appears that gains you special friends.”
“Settling the wrongful arrest lawsuit made those friends,” Will remarked with an innocent expression on his face that earned him a narrowed eye glare from Prurnell, Jack growled in his throat and gave Will a stand down side glance.
“I need Will, right here in the BAU.” He said with firm directness. A man used to getting his own way through the sheer force of his personality. Except Kade Prurnell was a woman who was also used to getting her own way through the sheer force of her personality and she quickly fired back, “Your needs are the least of our concerns, Jack.”
It was at this point that Will decided to slouch down a bit in his chair and hope the both of them forgot he was in the room.
“Look!” Jack stood up going for intimidation through size, but Prurnell was having none of it and stepped right into his desk, finger jabbing in the big man’s direction. It was like watching a chess match with each player vying for dominance over the center of the desk … er … board and Jack was not winning this.
“This is not a discussion, Jack! I am here telling you about the reassignment as a courtesy…”
“COURTESY?!?”
“YES!”
“You are taking one of my strongest assets…”
“Strongest?? Three department psychiatrists agree that Will Graham is an unfit, unstable, broken pony who should be taken out behind the stable and shot!” She paused and looked at Will. “No offense.”
“None taken,” really. It was not anything he had not already called himself, and worse.
Jack looked ready to launch into his next argument but Prurnell got in there first.
“You are never getting field clearance for him again, AND it is on his permanent record that he is never allowed to own or carry a firearm.” She looked at Will flatly. “Not that the last one is any great loss.” Will shrugged. His questionable marksmanship with a pistol was one of the less offensive running jokes about him making its way around the office.
Jack set his hands on his hips. It made him look twice as pugnacious but Will and Prurnell both knew it meant that Crawford was beginning to accept defeat. Will straightened in the chair and picked up the conversation.
“Violent Crimes Apprehension Program,” he spelled out ViCap. “Not like we’re not in the same building,” he offered to Jack only to catch Prurnell’s smirk out of the corner of his eye.
Uh oh.
Jack saw it as well and his bullish shoulders tensed. “What?”
Prurnell leaned back with a smile that was sweet, in the way that cyanide gas had a sweet almond scent.
“Mr. Graham’s doctors feel it would be in his best interests to relocate from the area of such recent trauma. It so happens that the FBI and the US Marshals office have been discussing joint operation initiatives. One of the pilot programs is being stood up as we speak.”
Both Jack and Will wore the same are you shitting me expression. Will recovered his voice first as he shifted in the chair with a humorless snort.
“The FBI and the US Marshals office? Joint … anything? We can’t share a urinal without trying to piss on each other.”
Jack scoffed as Prurnell looked pained.
“Part of why it has been decided that more interagency cooperative efforts…” both Jack and Will groaned like teenage boys having to hear reprimand from the school principal for the hundredth time. Prurnell rolled her eyes and reached for her briefcase. She reached into it and pulled out a file folder, throwing it into Will’s lap and looking smug when he ooofed as the corner caught his crotch.
“Everything you need is in there,” she said without sympathy watching as Graham opened the file.
Wait for it.
Wait for it.
“Harlan Kentucky?” He looked up over his glasses at her. Prurnell smirked. “What? You like remote areas. You report to Chief Mullen two weeks from Monday.”
“Is this our punishment or theirs?” Jack asked in an unpleasant tone. Prurnell just smiled sweetly and turned for the door.
“Don’t think of it as an either/or, Jack.” She paused fingers curled around the door handle. “In this instance the answer is both.”
As the door closed behind her Crawford fell into his chair with a long exhale, like a deflating balloon. He stared at the door for almost three minutes, the silence broken only by the rustle of paper as Will flipped through the file.
“This is bullshit.” Jack said.
“Mmm.” Will acknowledged absently.
“What do they think a forensic profiler is going to do with the US Marshal service?!” Jack was starting to wind back up, but Will ignored him as he read from the file.
“’…assigned to provide support service to the US Marshals in the development of criminal profiles that will aid in the apprehension of fugitives from the law’.”
Jack made a face.
‘That’s like …”
“…teaching my grandmother how to suck eggs?”
Jack snorted. “They are going to hate you.”
Will sighed and shrugged as he pried himself out of the chair. “Can’t be any more annoying about it than Zeller and Price. That’s not what worries me.”
Jack grunted an unspoken inquiry as he began to look back down at his own work.
“Eastern Kentucky without a sidearm? I’m going to be underdressed.”