iCriminalMinds

Our Arrival

SAMS POV

The plane ride was quite long, considering we were going from Seattle to Italy. It was set to be about twelve hours. Half a day, stuck in a claustrophobic shuttle with people I despised. Well, mostly despised. I obviously liked Freddie... I could go far enough to even say I was in love with Freddie, right?

I glanced over to him, watching him exchange some stupid knowledge of something absolutely nobody cared about with Reid. Scoffing, I went to take a seat and close my eyes. After a quick power nap, I awoke, and groaned again. The two were still talking!

"Hey you, can you get me a margarita?" I asked, turning to the woman with the black long bob. I vaguely recognized her.

"Do you think I'm a waitress?" She asked.

"Duh." I said, matter of fact like. She annoyedly shuffled off, and sat away from me, next to Reid and Freddie.

"Don't worry, y'all! T-Bo ALWAYS comes prepared!" T-Bo said, whipping out a smoothie cup from under his fur jacket. He handed it to me, and to my surprise, when I sipped it it had margarita in it!

"Wow! Thanks, T-Bo!" I exclaimed, almost crying out of joy since I was so happy he had bestowed such a nice gift on me.

"T-Bo, babycakes, you're so generous!" Penelope squealed, rubbing his stomach.

"Yeah let's fuck!" T-Bo said, running to the back of the plane with Derek and Penelope.

And so, for the next eleven hours, we listened to the three of them go at it. It wasn't very pleasant, but it seemed most everyone else was used to that being a common occurrence on their private jet rides.

As the plane was landing, the trio came out and took a seat casually.

"Mile high clubbbbb!!!!!" T-Bo yelled, fist pumping Penelope and Derek. Everyone laughed and forgave them for making us be a part of their sex romp for eleven hours.

We got off the plane and went inside Italy's FBI building. I was exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep, but the team insisted we needed to meet our Italian FBI team counter parts.

"Oh, oh oh, ohhhh!!!! Make it count, play it straight, don't look back, don't hesitate!" A tall, blond swoopy haircut man yelled. Behind him was three other men. One was wearing a helmet, one was sporting an awful fake tan, and the other looked like he didn't want to be there.

"You've already met big time rush, I see. The big time rush boys were sent here, to beautiful Italia, by their boss, Gustavo. Me and him are brothers, you see. He said the boys need to learn a lesson! Working in a federal bureau agency with no experience will certainly teach them that!" The man said, pushing his way through the boys. He was stocky, but I could tell his rolls would look good without a shirt.

"That sounds respectable and logical to me! What's your name, sir?" Hotch asked, holding out his hand to shake.

"I'm Gíbbé, sir." Gíbbé said, shaking Hotch's hand. Shocked, and aroused, I could barely find the words to express my awe.

"Gíbbé! Are you the Italian equivalent of Gibby, from America?!" I found myself yelling.

"Mama Mia, I hate when I get that! I am not! I am a thousand times better, actually! My rap career is far past SoundCloud tier! Thank you very much!" He yelled, running off into the distance. I felt bad for offending the man, so I kind of stood to myself a few moments as everyone took in what had happened.