Madelyn and Mick, Thursday afternoon

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Before the tactical meetings and these logs, Mick stops in to talk to Madelyn. Well, actually, he scares the crap out of Madelyn and she tries to brain him with a textbook. After the books stop flying, they catch up, gossip a little, and talk about what's to come on Saturday.


Mick reflected that she was really going to kick his ass for scaring her as he heard Madelyn fumbling with the door of her office for a moment before it opened. "Boo," he said cheerfully.

She didn't have a weapon, but she was carrying a rather hefty medical text Clarice had borrowed and given back. The heavy volume was flung by reflex at the intruder's head, Madelyn backing up into a defensive pose even as she realised who it was. "Mick!"

He dodged the textbook, reddening, even as he grinned at her. "Okay, that I deserved. Hi, Maddie."

"You're damn lucky I didn't have the tranq gun on me..." she mock-growled, coming forward. She stopped within arm's reach, not going so far as to hug him, but obviously pleased to see him, now her heart rate had deccelerated. "When did you get in?"

"A couple of hours ago," Mick said easily. "I gather we have a meeting or two, but I thought I'd stop down here and see you."

No stutter. That was what Madelyn noticed first. And the definite relaxation in body language. "Yeah, just a couple," she said with a wry grin. "I was just wrapping up some class stuff, seeing how I'm going to be gone tomorrow. You want a coffee or something?"

"Sure," Mick said, bending over to pick up the textbook and set it back on her desk. "Classes... the kids going to cope okay with having all their teachers gone, you think?"

"They're used to missions, but yeah, this is something bigger than anything we've done..." Madelyn moved to the always-on coffee maker and poured a couple of cups, remembering Mick's preferences from many a nightshift chat. Bringing the mugs over to the couch and sitting down, she continued: "I'm planning to have a word with one or two, let them know something's up, but not exactly what, give them some notice so they don't panic. And Charles will be here, so it's not like they'll be completely unsupervised."

"It's a shame they can't know," Mick said softly, taking the cup from her. "I think they'd... well, appreciate what we're all doing. The ones I've met the times I've been here, certainly." He regarded her over the edge of the mug as he took a sip, then smiled. "How do you feel?" he prodded gently. "About Saturday."

"Honestly? Terrified," Madelyn replied with a shaky laugh. "As much as I sometimes got frustrated acting as school nurse, the idea of going into a combat situation is never something to get excited about. But... this is what we've been working towards all this time. That's more important than anything." She blushed a little at how idealistic she sounded. "You?"

Mick nodded a little, his smile wry. "Nervous," he said. "Not quite terrified, but only because I've done things like this so often. This is different, obviously." Lots different, really. "But I'll be going in right beside Tim and Ani, and Nate won't be far away... it feels like old times, in a way. There's something to be said for familiar patterns."

He couldn't help a fonder, warmer smile at both the blush and the idealism, though. "Much as I'm going to worry about you being out there," he confessed, "part of me's glad you will be, too. You've... put so much into this, Madelyn. You care. That's important, and I respect that."

"I couldn't not be. Hank made all sorts of protesting sorts of noises, but I couldn't stay behind. Not after... everything." She didn't mention Vermont, but it hung there between them. "Something about seeing finish what I helped start, even in a small way." She chuckled a little, reaching for her coffee. "Besides, who else is going to sweet-talk the government for you? MacInnis?"

Mick laughed softly, shaking his head. "Dear God, the man is a cast-iron bastard, he really is. I don't think I can tell you just how unpleasant it's been, seeing his face across the breakfast table on a regular basis."

"When Nathan told me you were joining him, I couldn't help wonder whether MacInnis would survive the experience..." Madelyn grinned a little, then sobered. "It hasn't been unbearable, though? Working with him?"

Mick gave it some serious thought. "MacInnis doesn't have the... in, with me or Ani, or even Tim, that he does with Nate. Not so many strings he can yank on." His gaze went a bit grim. "Not so much guilt. And the damned thing, Maddie, is that he cares about us, all of us. Even Nathan. Ani, much as she hates him, admits that she picks up on that. Why he can't just be straightforward..." He bit his lip, then shook his head.

"Nothing about any of this is straightforward. I think he's spent so much time pretending to be various things for various reasons, he's forgotten how to be honest, even to himself." Madelyn was surprised at the note of sympathy entering her voice - she was definitely on the 'rat-bastard' side of the fence, but there was something so isolated about the man... "A little songbird tells me there's gossip to be had," she added, changing the topic a little away from uncomfortable places. "You and Ani?"

Mick grinned sheepishly, coloring a little. "Yeah. Um. You know, I'm still somewhat in shock, because I always figured she preferred women, but she's gotten all attached, and I'm not about to complain." He took a sip of the coffee, wondering just how red he was. "It's funny. Tim and I... we both had such a crush on her when she first entered active service."

"She's certainly something," Madelyn said wiht a teasing smile, amused by Mick's complexion change. It was so _good_ to see him like this. "She's made a hell of a difference, and I'm glad you're happy. More than glad - I can stop worrying about you so much now."

"So much?" Mick teased. "Seriously, Maddie... I'm doing well, I think. Haven't been having any problems at all being out on operations, and I'm not jumping at overly loud noises anymore." He frowned a little. "Still a little noise-sensitive, though. I'm wondering if that's going to be permanent."

"I always worry - it's part of the job description." Madelyn reached over to touch his shoulder briefly. "And if it hasn't cleared up by now, I'm afraid it probably is permanent. You've had ample recovery time, and you're using your powers regularly again... We could always have Moira check you over before Saturday, to see if there's something we've missed..." She caught herself slipping into consultaiton-made, and gave him a shamefaced look. "And that's also part of the job description. Doctors are never off-duty."

"It'll be okay," Mick said with another brief grin. "More irritating than anything else; it's certainly not getting in the way of me using my powers. Which is what's important." He gave her a steady look. "So what's the plan for you, for Saturday? Where are you going to be?"

"Medical evac," she replied. "Apparently they'll need Doctor Bartlet more than Agent Bartlet, which is as it should be. Law enforcement doesn't really have a place here, but unfortunately a medic will."

Mick nodded, mentally fitting her into the plan as it stood in his head. "Sorry, don't mean to be nosy," he said. "I'm just used to keeping track of things like this. That was how Tim and I always worked back at Mistra. I knew where everyone and everything was, he decided where they would be."

Madelyn chuckled. "It's not nosy at all. Asking me my measurements, _that_ would be nosy. This is operational stuff."

"Yeah, but I'm not the XO on this. Not really." He chuckled. "Really? This is something I've never done before. Mistra, over the last twenty years, probably cooperated with other groups of agencies.... hmm, three or four times, that I know of."

"They're not really the sort to play well with others, no..." Madelyn snorted a little. "This is actually familiar, in a weird way. The Bureau has a limit on their resources, so anything really big, like investigating cults during the late 90s, we needed a lot of co-operation. Other government agencies, the local police, human services..." Madelyn shook her head. "I'm getting all nostalgic. It's sad."

"You miss it?" Mick probed. So maybe he was a little twitchier than he'd let on. It was good to sit and listen to people talk, though. Conversations about things other than taking down Mistra were soothing things.

She hesitated. There was a certain amount of disloyalty, she couldn't help thinking, feeling that way. "Sometimes," she admitted. "I mean, I love it here - I've learned so much, and the kids just have this way of grabbing you... but sometimes it feels like the life here, the almost-constant stressors... they chew people up. Good people." She thought of Scott with a small wince. "And in the Bureau, I knew my role, had it set down. Here it tends to be a lot of flying by the seat of my pants and hoping I don't screw it up too badly."

"Every situation's going to have its pros and cons," Mick pointed out. "The higher the highs, the lower the lows." He grinned wryly. "At least, that's what certain people keep telling me."

Madelyn laughed at that. "I suppose you've had your fill of pop-psychology, then?" she asked, mischievously.

"Maybe just a little," Mick said, then donned an innocent look. "But hey, the wounded sparrow thing got me the chick, right?"