Criminal Minds ~ DNF

3

George pushed open the door on the right and was immediately ambushed by two receptionists.

"Ooh, are you George Davidson?" One asked in a distinct Tennessee drawl, giggling like a girl. George frowned at the attention, unused to it being so positive.

"Yes, ma'am. May I speak to Mr. Starr, please?" George asked, trying to deter the girls.

"Mariah will get 'im for yeh!" The other girl said in pure Geordie, sticking her little pink tongue out at her friend. The first girl, Mariah, sent her a dirty look, huffed and stormed off in the direction of the elevator.

"I'll just go wait over there, then," George stated, hoping the Geordie girl would get the message and leave him alone. She didn't, flouncing out her skirts and going to sit beside him.

"I'm sorry abou' Mariah. That bloody woman's got no self control a' all," she hummed, placing her hands suggestively on the arm of George's chair. "She'll go af'er anythin' that moves, that girl. I shouldn't 'ave let 'er get that close ter yeh."

"Um, alright. Can you, erm, not?" George rose again, straightening his tie. The woman was quite obviously a whor- ahem, looking for a relationship in George and George would have absolutely none of that. He didn't want to have to explain to her that he swung the other way.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I di'nt mean to overstep my welcome. I just figured that there aren' that many Brits out there in Amer'ca, we should stick togerther, y'know?" She spoke softly, staying in her seat while George brushed off his suit jacket. When Mariah returned with Mr. Starr, he wouldn't have to worry about the Geordie girl anymore. He would fulfill his purpose here, meet Schlatt and go back to Virginia to complain about the agent leaving him high and dry. He smiled a little at that.

"Cheryl! Leave poor Agent Davidson alone!" An older male voice scolded. The Geordie woman looked at her feet. She knew what she was doing. George located the source of the voice and eventually found Mariah with Mr. Starr standing beside her. He wore a bright smile and he held his arms in the air invitingly. If George didn't know better, he would have thought Mr. Starr was offering him a hug.

"Mr. Starr," George smiled back, extending his hand for the asylum owner to shake. He did, a firm little jitter. Though George was significantly younger than Mr. Starr, it was clear that the man considered the trainee FBI agent his superior to a degree.

"How was your flight, Agent?"

"Uneventful, though the cabbie drove like a maniac," George replied, laughing. He found it a lot easier to speak to Mr. Starr than he did any of the other adults at the Academy. Maybe it was the mutual respect. "And you, Mr. Starr? Any news here?"

"Please, call me Vik. No, nothing of great notice." George made a mental note of the preferred name before following Vikkstar down the narrow hallway.

"So, you're here to speak with the unit in Pandora's Box, correct?" He inqured.

"Yes, sir, I am," George replied.

"He'll like that. He hasn't seen anybody of your calibre since he was convicted. You are quite his taste," Mr. Starr chuckled. George was going to ask what he meant when he shushed himself. Maybe he didn't want to know.

"How long do I have with him? I don't need much out of him, it's just a matter of how long it'll take to get it," George asked, pushing the comment to the back of his mind.

"When is your next flight?"

"Not 'till tomorrow morning."

"Then you have all night." George nodded gratefully. They turned a corner and walked into a lift. An elevator, he reminded himself. Fuck America. George didn't know how co-operative the Dream Killer would be and he had a feeling he would need the extra time. Vik stopped to open a door and ushered George in. That was the first of many. There was a second door right behind it that couldn't be opened without the first door closing. The second door had a key code, and the third door.