Rumble, by Catriona

You claim to be a writer - so write me something. Write a short story - no more than a thousand words - featuring some or all of your Criminal Minds colleagues.

Seems like a good moment to take my first step into noir. Maybe. You tell me.

Rumble

What you got here, see, is you got two weeks. And two days between, like a peace line. So say you got Babyface Brenda on a Monday, then you know you got Tip Toe Terry right behind her, Big Daddy Dietrich keeping it cool, Jay-Z up next, mixing it like a whisky sour, and Mukhers bringing it home, little bit of that James Bond style, you know?

They call themselves Group One. Bold talk. But no swagger, amirite? Up to now we let it slide. Says more about them than it ever did about us.

Us? We're the other week. They call us Group 2. Wise guys, huh? We say nothing, think plenty, all of us staring back across the weekend. Truth is, we been light since our buddy Paul lit out for good. Course we got weight to spare. We got Ace. The Boss. The Enforcer. With Ace on our week, we ain't worried about them others. Well as her, we got Frenchie on a Monday, Josh the Cosh, Yours Truly and, well, we been looking for a Tuesday Guy. Had the word out a while. And now we got lucky.

Of all the bloggers in all the world, who should wander onto ours but Gabriel V. (He's no angel.) And now Ace is feeling all of it, with V at her side. She's done. She's ain't taking no shit from no one no more. 

Long story short, it's time. We're all in. Frenchie is small but scrappy, Josh the Cosh is built like a fridge, Ace and V are the brains. And I'll do my bit. We're ready to rumble.

Trouble is . . . TT Terry used to be one of us, before she switched. And Jay-Z's a good guy, just fell in with a bad crowd. Babyface Brenda and Daddy D ain't so bad either, I've broken bread with the both a them before, shared a beer. Josh the Cosh? It rhymes but no more. Guy's all heart. And Mukhers? Could say we should stick together, him and me. We came up in the same place. Different crews - the Weegies and the Edders - but the same spot. Gotta mean something. Speaking of the same spot, TT and Frenchie have been known to share a crib a time or two.

Take all that - loyalties, history, geography - this job could go wrong in a heartbeat. This could get messy AF. And who'd still be standing when chumps like us were bleeding out? You need to ask? 

This world ain't perfect but it's all we got. I ain't leaving it to no Jungle Reds. Not today.