December 96, Washington D.C

The whole team sat around a table with their new boss, the Dusted Doughnut was busy for a Monday Evening. McWilliams' offer of a drink after work had been met with scepticism by most of the team, before his return Bond had banned drinking during the week or whilst on duty after several incidents in South Carolina. But now McWilliams was back after a prolonged absence, the drink ban looked as it had been lifted. At least for tonight.

Sam noted McWilliams was still an imposing figure, when they had first met he was a well-built man almost as wide across the shoulders as he was tall. Now after his ordeals of late his frame was lighter but still imposing. The chat around the table was light and nervous, no one really knowing what to expect. No one here had worked with him before except Sam who had been in the original team when it was first created and McWilliams headed the unit. Carter and Holly had both been on the team when they had been tipped off about McWilliams whereabouts and recovered him from his hostage ordeal.

It was going to be different all round now. The Assistant Director had asked Sam how he would feel about the return of Agent McWilliams as the team leader. It was a relief in some ways, he enjoyed the field work but not the stigma of alienation from the team because of the post. He could now be just one of the team again. Already Holly had made a jest to the rest about the different style of leadership, in that McWilliams asked them if they wanted to go for a drink rather ordered them.

Holly and Sam were the only two not drinking, for Sam this was not unusual, as team had already found out about his severe allergy to alcohol. For a while Kim Lee quizzed Sam about it, how he had become aware of it and if he ever got drunk before. As he explained it was something he had found out during his teens when he started to drink, since then he had only touched alcohol by accident and each time it had ended badly.

The companions around the table started too look relaxed, McWilliams was drinking bottled beer but not fast. Alex Gent the newest member of the team looked quizzically at Carter. Carter was sitting quietly next to McWilliams, reaching into his pocket he pulled a packet of cigarettes and tapped them lightly on the back of his hand. Drawing one from the packet, he put it too his lips. From the ashtray he took the complimentary matches and ripped a match from the packet and lit the cigarette, unaware his companions were watching in stunned silence. Putting the matches on top his cigarettes he let the smoke drift from his mouth and creep across his hand which gripped the short glass it held. Drinking deeply from his glass he seemed deep in thought and missed the question Gent posed him regarding his mentor Father Bernard. The rest heard and noted that Carter just stared at the now empty glass he held, gently pushing it around, watching the reflections from the carved surfaces glint idly.

Sam had not seen this side of Carter before, normally he was brash and impetuous but the news of Father Bernard's arrest and the allegations he faced were beginning to take their toll on the normally buoyant Agent. Sam reiterated the question to Carter and this time he heard, although it was no louder than before. Carter just looked and shook his head, for once he looked as if there was nothing he could do. Even Sam new it was bad, he had spoken with several friends and even his sister, they all concurred that the case was looking bad. No self-respecting lawyer would take the case on in the face of the growing mountain of evidence that stood against him. It wasn't that his guilt was already decided, but they knew that there was little hope of winning. So already his fate was being decided before he would even reach court.

Alex looked around and noted a spare pool table in the corner and asked if anyone would like to join him for a game. Sam and Carter accepted immediately, and then looked for a fourth to even the teams. Sam looked at Holly but Lee interjected and made up the teams. Making their way across to the tables Sam saw Agent Brookes standing at the bar with some colleagues, a twang of regret crossed his mind, he had called his old friend many times since the funeral but so far she had not returned his calls. It bugged him that he had dome something to upset her and was unaware of it. He knew her temper was bad, that had been evident from the day they had first met and she could hold a grudge for a while, the last time they had spoken she seemed congenial, even kissing him on the cheek as she left, much to Holly's distaste.

Alex looked at the others with a glint in his eyes as he proposed a side bet to make the game more interesting. But the others only wanted to play pool. From their raised position around the pool tables they had a much clearer view of the Dusted Doughnut, it was a haunt for Government officials being just across the road from the FBI headquarters. Rain coats and suit jackets were slung across chairs, side booths with seating for small gatherings were filled and the bar was awash with suited personnel.

The first game passed quickly with Sam and Kim quickly clearing the table. Alex racked up the next game and noted a tall attractive brunette standing at the bar, she had been watching them ever since they had started playing. She was standing with a group of suits that all seemed to be talking but she just kept watching. As Sam broke off, her eyes followed him, boring into him. Carter wandered around the table looking for his first pot. Alex casually remarked to Sam about the brunette at the bar. Sam feigned disinterest at first but lazily looked over his shoulder towards the bar area. Brookes stood there, daggers emitting from her eyes, directly at Bond. Turning to face his companions, they all looked at him questioningly. Excusing himself from the game, Sam turned on his heels and started the long walk passed the bar, passed the table at which Holly sat, through the throng of people milling around until he was standing in front of Brookes.

Gent, Carter and Lee leant against the pool table, cues resting in their hands. A gentleman in casual wear speaks to them in hushed tones, only nodding towards Sam as he stands at the gates to hell. A flourish of money exchanges hands, Carter no participating sits back and holds the kitty, eager for a result.

Brookes stood still before Sam, barely acknowledging his presence. He could never remember feeling uncomfortable with her, embarrassed sometimes at his own expense but not a feeling of not belonging. Uneasily he starts, but it is like talking to a stranger and things go rapidly downhill. Their talk starts to get hotter, Brookes' companions have unconsciously moved away, forming a horseshoe around the bickering pair. At the pool table, Gent is biting his fist. The money Carter holds could be his if only Bond walks away unscathed.

Boy that had to sting, it's funny, but he cringes at the thought of the money his had just lost. Sam takes a step backwards, almost losing his balance after Brookes lands an open hand across his face, followed by a cooling drink straight in the face. Quick to make a chance to get his money back, he offers the gentleman a double or quits that Sam will get slapped again before the night is out. The gentleman looks puzzled, but accepts a chance to double his cash.

Unfortunately Sam wanders back to the table, takes his coat from the back of chair and leaves. Gent briefly holds his head in his hands then watches as Carter hands over the money to the mystery gentleman.