+18 eps. 12-16 - Gillian and Brock face huge changes in their lives after she leaves the PD and he moves back to DC. But no matter what, looks like they just can't help coming across each other.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
**picture: Boston skyline over Charles River
Brock closed the trunk of his car and went back to his apartment, trying to think hard about anything he might be forgetting to take with him. He'd be back to see Andrea in three weeks, so he had to make sure he had anything he needed for the month. Good thing Mrs. Coleman's apartment was still vacant, and Russell had already set everything for Brock to rent it again. He found Andrea at the family room, with her box and her bag, ready to go.
Before getting out of his car at her mother's house, she gave him the sandwiches and the apple pie she'd made for him and Russell, to have a bite on the road. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.
"Text me when you get there, okay?" she repeated.
Brock nodded, his face against hers, not willing to let her go so soon.
"And remember next month I'm going over," she added.
He loosened his arms, just enough to face her with a questioning frown.
She held his eyes with her most serious face. "It's Connor's birthday, and I wanna be there."
Brock managed to keep his reaction to a deep breath and nodded. Andrea narrowed her eyes at his lack of grunts and complains. He raised his eyebrows—what. She grinned and hugged him one last time.
"Love you, Dad. Good luck."
"Love you too, child. Take care."
Brock watched her hurry into her house as if he would never see her again. Then he sighed, geared in and drove away.
Russell waited for him with his bag and his suitcase. He put both things in the backseat and got in the car. He had coffee for them, and his face lit up with a grin when he found Andrea's pie. He nodded to the morning traffic. "So here we go, on the road again."
Brock flashed a mild smile. Yeah, here we go again.
It was a smooth trip, and after taking Russell home, Brock headed to his old apartment in South Boston with that odd feeling again of being back home. Especially when he found Mrs. Coleman had left the apartment ready for him to settle in and one of her delicious meat pies in the microwave, so he wouldn't need to cook dinner after so many hours on the road. He had a nice, quiet evening unpacking, the curtains open to the sunset on the city. Then he had his shower, his late tea, and went to bed with his book, wearing his black pajamas and feeling relaxed and contented as he'd never expected to be.
That is, until Cassidy called the next morning, while he was having breakfast.
The Section Chief didn't waste time in friendly greetings, as usual, and cut straight to it: a girl had been found beaten to death in Portland, Maine, adding up to two over the last two weeks, and the local agency had sent the file to the BAU, requesting urgent assistance. But most of the BAU teams were working out of town, and the rest of the available profilers were still too green. Portland's agency was in Brock's 'new territory'. So.
Brock wasn't sure how he felt about it. Meaning he wasn't quite sure who to be pissed at, Grubber or Cassidy. While making up his mind, he swallowed a sigh and told Cassidy he'd take care of it.
"Good. Take Coleman with you, he needs to get sharp as a profiler," said Cassidy, and Brock could bet his badge the man was smirking. "And if it's a serial, you should use all hands on deck. So take Gillian's team with you, too." Now Brock didn't have any problem to make up his mind and be pissed at him. Cassidy's last words confirmed his mental picture of the smirk. "Enjoy the ride, Brockner. Jo will email you all we got on the case."
Brock invested his way to the field office in wrapping his mind about the idea of working with Gillian again so soon. He'd hoped he wouldn't need to have any interaction with her, further than greeting each other when they met at a hall or an elevator. He should've known Cassidy wouldn't let him have it so easy. Damned Gillian fan. On his very first day back in Boston, the man was sending him away with her and the merry punks. On the bright side, they'd be focused on the case, so there wouldn't be room for personal conversations or anything like that.
His fingers tightened around the wheel as he relived the last time he'd seen her, when she'd showed up at his apartment in the storm. Over the last months, he'd never given any thought to what had happened back then. He'd rather refused to do it. But there wasn't much to analyze either. He knew she cared about him, and at that moment, him leaving had surely come to add to the unexpected, hard changes she was facing. So it was only natural she'd taken it sort of personal. And Gillian being always so straightforward, it was also only natural that after a couple of drinks she'd just acted out on her shaken emotional state.
Arriving at the federal building and looking for a free spot to park saved him from going on to the obvious next step in his train of thought—his late but vivid impulse to kiss her back, which would've meant facing that she had somehow touched a nerve he'd thought he'd buried years ago, along with Georgia. None of that found room in his head, of course, because he didn't want to scratch his car while reversing into the scarce gap he'd found.
