Open Case File [COMPLETED]

A Hard Decision

Sometimes you simply need someone who will give you the hard facts. Mason is usually the person to go to.

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Carter paced up and down the hallway in front of the one door she needed to enter but couldn't. Fellow agents nodded goodnight to her as they clocked out for the day. Carter acknowledged them but only halfheartedly, her thoughts dwelling elsewhere. As she turned on her heel, her phone buzzed and she glanced at the message.

"Come in or don't but either way stop haunting my doorway."

Carter looked up and spotted a small camera above the doorway. Shaking her head, she pocketed her phone and stepped into the tech lab. Mason swiveled around in his chair, fingers steepled, face pensive.

"It is the Ghost of Hallways Present, speak to me, spirit, and tell me what I must know," Mason said.

"You installed a camera over your door?" Carter asked.

Mason dropped his hands and leaned back in his chair. "Of course not. I had someone else do it. A precaution against anyone unwanted coming into this room. Now, why are you here?"

Carter stood with her hands on her hips. This was ridiculous, she couldn't do this. But what other option did she have? She couldn't think of one, that's why she was there. Still, she hated it.

"If you came here to ogle me you should remember you're getting married soon. After that, it will just be weird."

Ridiculous, completely ridiculous that she was thinking about asking him what she needed to ask him.

"Mason," she said, but stopped. Mason raised his eyebrows.

"Owens," he mocked back.

When Carter still couldn't force the words out, Mason groaned with annoyance.

"Say it, Owens, I'm aging gracefully here."

"Fine, I need you to help me pick out a wedding dress," Carter said hurriedly.

Mason stared at her. "What? Don't you have Maggie, Donovan's mother, and Maddy all willing to help you?"

Now that the request was out, Carter felt freer with her words.

"Yeah, that's the problem. We've been to the wedding store twice and every dress I try on they think is the one." She began to pace. "I need one dress, not twenty. And they all have different opinions on which one is perfect." She stopped, facing Mason. "That's why I need you. I need you to be honest in the way only you can, blunt to the point of insulting."

Mason pressed his hand to his heart. "Such sweet words. I would be honored to insult you."

"Great, let's go."

"What now?"

"Yes, I want this done with."

"All right."

Carter paced as Mason shut down his work and collected his things.

"You are no longer aging gracefully but simply aging, I would hurry it up here," Carter said.

"I thought the insults were my job for the night, not yours?"

"Neither of us should have a monopoly on insults."

Carter opened the door and waved Mason through. As they rode the elevator, she watched the numbers as if her impatience would make them decrease faster.

"Do you know what you want in a dress?" Mason asked.

"White."

"I think you ask too much. But no worries, I excel at impossible tasks."