chaletian | [X-Over] Hiatus :: PG :: Gen

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!

Sam Winchester paced the room, his steps no less agitated now than they had been two months previously.

“Sam, for the love of God, will you please chill out?” pleaded Special Agent Tony DiNozzo from where he was sprawled across the sofa watching a baseball match, a half-empty bowl of popcorn next to him. “You’re making us all dizzy – still.”

“I just… when will it end?” said Sam, his voice husky with suppressed emotion. “You know where Dean is, Tony! I just… I can’t…” he trailed off, and flopped onto the sofa, listlessly grabbing a hand of popcorn. “I just can’t wait for it to start again, y’know? Be able to do something.”

“I know, man,” said Tony sympathetically. “I mean, I know I can’t wait to be an ‘Agent Afloat’… oh, hey, wait. Yeah. I can.”

“Have you decided yet?” asked a newcomer, a teenage boy. “Whether or not you’re going to stick with it?”

Tony shrugged, his gaze straying to the dark-haired woman sitting by the window. “Not sure. There’s still time. How ‘bout you, Dan?” He nodded towards the blonde girl talking to another boy. “Made any decisions about the fair Serena?”

“Like Humphrey here could make a decision,” said Chuck Bass, bending over the back of the sofa to steal the popcorn. “He’ll still be lusting after Serena from afar when he’s old and grey and his pompous self-righteousness has turned into impotency and self-destructive rage.”

Tony, Sam and Dan stared at him.

“Wow,” said Sam.

“Cheery,” said Tony.

“I hate you,” said Dan.

Chuck shrugged. “Everyone does.” A movement at the far end of the room caught his eye, and he looked up to see Blair Waldorf glaring at him.

“Man-whore,” she shouted. He scowled.

“You and Blair are going to be a laugh a minute in the Fall,” said Dan, not without an element of satisfaction. “Have you ever managed to keep a girl for more than one night, Chuck?”

“What? Who? Me? Sure. I mean, Jill and I were together a while, until Bryce – well, you know the story – and then there’s Sarah, I mean, not that Sarah and I are really… y’know, a thing, but there was that one time when we… but I’m not sure if really meant anything and I… oh. Right. That Chuck. OK.” Chuck Bartowski gave a vague wave and carried on his way. The others watched him leave, slightly bemused.
“He’s a strange man,” said Sam, eventually.

“Who around here isn’t?” asked Tony idly, making a sudden, successful snatch at the popcorn bowl. “I don’t know that… oh, hey, Dr Brennan.”

A tall, slender woman joined them on the sofa. “Special Agent DiNozzo.”

“How’s Zach doing?” asked Sam, making more room.

“The same. I don’t know what they’re going to do with him next.”

“It’s tough, huh?” said Sam. “The not knowing.”

“Yes, I find it…”

“DiNozzo! Hey, how’s the game going?” Equally Special Agent Booth came bounding up to the group by the TV, and the two men were immediately caught up in a discussion of the game.

“Male bonding over sports is truly a fascinating – if odd – spectacle,” observed Dr Brennan.

“Animal,” said Chuck Bass, shivering artistically. “Now, you and I, Dr Brennan, we have more…”

“Eyes off the lady, Blazer Boy,” advised Agent Booth kindly, interrupting a impassioned statement from Tony about batting averages.

“Agent Booth has been known to get violent in pursuit of his protective urges,” said Dr Brennan.

“Who, neanderbrow? Surely not!”

A large hand clamped down on Chuck’s shoulder and Agent Booth smiled. “Tell you what, kid. You run off now and neither of us has to find out.”

“Whatever,” said Chuck sulkily, and he stalked off.

“I hate him,” said Dan, and wandered off in the opposite direction.

“This place sucks,” said Sam and resumed his pacing.

Agents DiNozzo and Booth sat on the sofa, popcorn between them, and watched the game.

“So,” said DiNozzo. “How’s your lot?”

“So-so,” said Booth. “Yours?”

“Gibbs keeps disappearing God knows where, Ziva is alternating between predicting violent vengeance and moping, Abby seems to have entered some kind of depressed cocoon, and McGee… actually, McGeek found some robot chick who got blown up, and he’s brushing up on cybernetics.”

“Everyone needs a hobby.”

“Don’t know what’s going to happen come the Fall.”

“Nobody does.”

A fight broke out in the far corner, as a raggedy one-handed prisoner head-butted some square-jawed all-American hero, who didn’t take kindly to it. As in the best of bar brawls, soon most of the room was involved, except for the two men determinedly watching a baseball game.

“I hate hiatus,” said one.

“Amen,” said the other.