// This Response Got Away From Me - Blog Posts

so. by now, fitz could see that no one else was going to say it, but the obvious had become clear, now that they all had some time to step back & reflect from the recent meeting concerning this operation — london was kind of an idiot. and sure, that's rich coming from fitz, but given the information the bureau's given them so far, it's at least being framed that way — just with with more tact, of course. and for once, fitz is inclined to agree.

only an idiot would jump back to three locations connected to previous missions of theirs, knowing the bureau would be digging through every mission, every conversation, every call, with a fine-toothed comb. only an idiot would potentially wrap themselves in a time loop by doing so, putting their health and safety at risk, paradoxes be damned. only an idiot would steal outdated technology, when fitz's transformer kit had been collecting dust every since his own failure. only an idiot. unless ...?

ah, of course.

london must've known that going back to some of his previous missions was the obvious first move, and so why not lead the bureau down those paths and unearth some once closed cases in the process? and say he did continue on this path of revisiting old missions, altering previous jumps with this version of himself — that's just a big mess that the bureau has to divide brain power & manpower to clean up, in addition to finding him. then there's the outdated tech — a genius play, seeing as the bureau prides itself on innovating and changing ahead of the times. the amount of people who remember the intricacies of that unstable technology are probably slim these days.

okay, change of opinion — agent london is a chaotic visionary, and fitz wants to be the one to find him just so he can shake the agent's hand. honestly, how —

thoughts interrupted by a familiar face & voice, which brings fitz back to reality. without missing a beat, he looks up at hemingway & grins. "wrapping up implies that any real work was getting done at this point in the day," he pushes away from his desk with his foot and stands to stretch, "but sure, i'm always down for ... 'dinner' and a 'drink'", he winks at the fellow agent while using air quotes.

fitz clears his throat and projects a little more for anyone else to hear, "thank you for offering, agent hemingway. i look forward to further working on this case with you and bringing our colleague home safe and sound." after a beat, he leans in, softer this time:

"anyway, i could use something greasy and sloppy — burgers?"

WHEN: september 3rd, 1996 ; late evening WHERE: bureau building ; team offices floor STATUS: open to everyone

he gets off the elevator with an armful of files but the stack is still skinnier than hemingway planned for it to be. he tried to check out a bunch of london's old mission reports, no particular rhyme or reason to his choices, just cases that seemed intriguing enough to research and investigate but he got denied access to some of them. a bunch of them, so he'll just have to make do with whatever he did manage to get. others would probably try to go with some pattern, a code; london's one of those others, hemingway can't really see him choosing the times and places he's been hitting at random and there's probably some rules to those three missions he's went back to fuck up but hemingway's ... not that quick so it's going to take him a bit of time and effort to connect the dots. and if all else fails, he can get someone to brainstorm with him.

he drops the files onto his desk as if it were the start of the work day and not the end of it; he's already passed a lot of the staff on their way out, exchanged all the goodbyes and see you tomorrows. the team's still roaming the floor, most of them in and out even at this time.

so before hemingway sits down to the work that's going to consume his next couple of hours, he strides right across the room to another agent's desk. "so, how are we doing?" he drops the question casually, usual smile on his face as he leans against the edge of their desk. it's a common scene, hemingway's always bouncing between his colleague's bullpens, either being a nuisance or just trying to make some nice conversation, depends on the way you look at it.

right now, he's just mostly stalling the task he's set for himself.

"you wrapping up anytime soon? because if you're still around in a couple of hours, maybe we could go into town? grab dinner and a drink." acting like everything's normal is not going to solve any of their problems but maybe an outing like this could help them clear their heads. trying to crack the code is an important job but they still gotta eat. "you know, we should turn our brains off for a minute. reset. you in?"