Buried

CHAPTER 2 | there is no i in team

A/N.  Hello my lovelies, it's the weekend! Hopefully you had a great week and have a wonderful weekend in store.
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Have a wonderful day...

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"Who the hell do you think you are?" snapped Kaitlyn. Her fists were clenched, nails cutting into her skin, as she held herself back from the persistent itch to slap his very masculine face. This was her chance to get justice for her father's death and no one was going to get in her way, not even this brooding hulk.

Kaitlyn continued to assess the man that was standing between her, and her need for closure. A gentle nagging began at the back of her mind. The more she stared at the man in front of her, the more familiar he looked. She couldn't place it but she recognised his face, and yet, she was sure that they had never met.

But why does he seem so familiar?

Instead of replying, the interloper stood his ground. An unreadable expression as he continued to glare at her as if she were a speck of dust to be brushed aside.

Before Kaitlyn knew what was happening, the Profiler had somehow stepped around her, picked up a folder from Doug's desk and began to head towards the door, "I work alone. Don't need or want a partner."

How the hell did he do that? Kaitlyn spun around and watched with surprise, questioning how such a large man could move with such speed and stealth.

Before Murphy could disappear through the door, Doug halted the Profiler in his tracks, "You're both on the case, and that's that. You will just have to learn to work together."

The man turned slowly, a flash of disbelief at Doug's words plastered across his face, as he looked between the other two occupants of the office. It was obvious this was the last thing he had expected to hear.

Doug then turned to address Kaitlyn, a no-nonsense look as he spoke, "And that goes for you too."

She balked at his tone, "I'll just go and practice my levitating skills shall I?" Kaitlyn remarked dryly, "because both have about the same chance of happening."

Murphy threw the woman a glare that would whither and disable a lesser person, and continued to say nothing, his expression virtually shouting his opinion at having her as a partner.

"Actually," admitted her boss, "this isn't my call, the Police Commissioner put four names on the table. They're non-negotiable."

"What?" both Kaitlyn and Murphy chimed in unison as they swung around to face the SAIC.

Doug smiled. "See," he said, "you're already working together. That came out in perfect stereo. Kaitlyn, I don't think you've formally met Murphy O'Neill."

"O'Neill!" The female FBI Special Agent snorted out in a very unlady like manner. "You're 'the' Murphy O'Neill?" Disbelief was evident in her words and tone.

There is no way he is O'Neill. He can't be any more than what? Thirty-five?

"Afraid so sweetheart."

A smug expression washed across O'Neill's face as he watched her mixed emotions ranging from disdain, shock, disbelief, admiration and then settling back at disdain and disbelief.

Murphy O'Neill was a legend within the FBI. He had worked nearly every high profile serial killer case in the past fifteen years, and his success rate was astounding. He guest lectured at Quantico and pretty much rewrote the book on this type of crime.