The oysters were fried, the crawfish were spicy and the beers were cold. The small Louisiana town didn't have much in a selection of restaurants and bars to choose from but what they lacked in numbers they more than made up with in welcoming atmosphere and Cajun food. Needing a place to escape the sweltering heat, the Behavior Analysis Unit had long ago learned to rely on the locals for recommendations of where to unwind once their case was closed. Tonight, they were seated in a rustic wooden tavern around an old Formica table. The old pine paneling surrounding them held the faded pictures of alligators, prized catfish catches and the local little league teams from years gone by. The smell of fried food lingered in the air only to be pushed around by the numerous ceiling fans lazily spinning over the occupants. It wasn't pretty, but there was food and drinks and after what they had endured the last three days, that was all that really mattered.
The temperature had been in the upper 90's and the humidity had been the same during the three days they were working on the case. The four victims, also referred to as floaters by the local law enforcement personnel, were found in the large run off pond located on the property of the nationally known paper mill. The pine woods surrounding the reservoir made an excellent camouflage for the deeds their unsub had been performing before growing tired and finally submerging the bodies. The break in the case came when Penelope Garcia, the FBI's self proclaimed tech goddess, found a connection between the victims and an environmental agency that was protesting the strip harvesting of trees needed for paper production. Once the connection was made, the profile was released and the unsub surfaced to the news media hoping to share his delusional concept of justice and revenge all in the name of conservation. As far as busts go, it was a relatively quiet one with the unsub apprehended in the late afternoon and the local paperwork completed by early evening.
As the team leader, SSA Aaron Hotchner instructed the waitress to supply the team with their first round of beer. Lifting his ice cold amber ale up and studying it hesitantly, he admitted, "I can't say I have ever drank a beer from a mason jar. Here is to a first time for everything." They all raised their jars, paused as if this act washed away the filth from the last few of days, and clanked them together exclaiming a hearty 'cheers' before tossing it back.
.
"And tell me again why we are still in this god forsaken town with 100% humidity?" Derek Morgan annoyingly whispered to JJ as he wiped his forehead with a paper napkin. Jennifer Jareau, Media Liaison for the team, pushed her long blond hair away from her face and retied it in her trademark high pony tail. "I told you Morgan, a long line of severe thunderstorms is sitting between us and our route home tonight so unless you want our pilot to get sited by the FAA or worse, lose our lives trying to fly through that storm, we are stuck here tonight. Come on, make the best of it, it's not like we have much of a choice anyway," she said cheerfully.
"Hey, I'm in no hurry to leave, I love this place," chimed in Emily Prentiss as she looked around with a smile on her face. "I love the fact that they speak a kind of dirty French here. I hardly ever get to practice my French."
"Ooh La La," Morgan jumped in, "I love me some dirty French." He flashed his bright smile and wiggled his eyebrows at Emily.
'Ew. Oh god, someone shut him up. I am talking about the language you idiot." Prentiss shot back at him with a sarcastically dirty look.
"Hold up my friends, I think the 50's just called and they want their table back," sang out the ever colorful Penelope Garcia. "Seriously, I do believe may very well be the same table and chairs used on the set of the I Love Lucy show. Lime green Formica and chrome legs. Has there ever been a better look for a dining set?"
Prentiss laughed and then stopped, "Oh, wait, oh god, she's serious isn't she?" JJ just nodded her head yes back at Emily with a shrug and a grimace.
The team had spent much of their time out in the woods and surrounding areas of the paper mill enduring the sweltering heat and oppressive humidity. Dave Rossi, the eldest and most experienced member of the team, leaned back in his chair glancing around at all of the ceiling fans spinning. They were hot, tired and a little punchy tonight. He knew the team needed this down time together and god knows, they had earned it. "This place sure has a lot of character," Dave spoke slowly as he looked around. "It ain't gonna win any five star culinary rating but those fried oysters over there are looking pretty damn good."
"Hey Derek, wanna suck some head and pinch some tail lover boy?" Penelope teased.
Immediately Hotch sat up straighter in his chair and Penelope, sensing an oncoming lecture about inappropriate FBI behavior in public, quickly added, "Oh boss man, seriously, that's what you do. Read the back of the waitresses t-shirts". And sure enough, the back of her shirt read 'Suck That Head and Pinch That Tail' with the words suck, head, pinch and tail all in capital lettering.
A stoic "Cute" was Hotch's only response which caused both JJ and Prentiss a momentary chuckle. Aaron Hotchner smiled inwardly but kept his displays of humor at a minimum with his team. His leadership style required him to maintain complete control and respect with his unit, even during their off duty times. Sometimes he wished he could share more of that fun side of himself with his friends and coworkers but over the years, there seemed to be less and less of the humorous Aaron left inside. He recognized that the past few years had left him pretty well battered and bruised emotionally but for the sake of his young son, Aaron was really starting to work on changing all of that.
"People actually eat that stuff?" JJ nodded to the platter of crawfish over at the table next to them and made a face of disgust. "Back in Pennsylvania, as kids we called those crayfish and we found them in the creeks. They certainly weren't anything we would have ever considered eating."
"Actually, they are affectionately referred to as mudbugs and they are quite popular especially in southern Louisiana." Reid chided in smiling and nodding his head enjoying JJ's discomfort. "They are seasoned with various hot spices and cooked with small ears of corn and whole potatoes. Crawfish boils are as popular here as our backyard barbeques are back home," he added looking around at the group.
"Well then, that settles it, when in Rome do as the Romans do. We are, my dear culinarily challenged friends, going to experience something new." And with that, the smiling David Rossi headed over to the attractive waitress in her mid 30's who appeared to be melting into every word he said to her.
He knew how to work women. Emily and JJ watched as he moved his body right up close to her as he talked, he slightly touched her arm, and then there was the nonstop eye contact.
"Good god, isn't there just one single, solitary woman out there that won't throw herself at the great David Rossi?" Emily scoffed. JJ just sighed, all the while keeping her eyes on Rossi. "Yeah, I don't think so, she never had a chance." Emily did a double take at JJ's staring. That, she thought to herself, was a conversation she was definitely going to save for another time when there weren't so many co-workers present.
As the loud, driving beat of the Cajun music flowed over the team, Dr. Spencer Reid, renowned authority on pretty much anything ever written, began an impromptu summary about the regional music history. His speaking style was quick and breathless, like he wanted to get as much information out in the shortest amount of time. He also possessed an almost animated way of speaking with his hands which constantly danced in front of him as if helping him to convey his point.
'The southern Louisiana region is known for their rich heritage especially musically. What we call 'Cajun' people of Louisiana today were actually French citizens who left to settle in Nova Scotia. Refusing to profess allegiance to England, they were forced to leave and eventually settled in this region. They brought with them a very distinct mix of music which is mostly comprised of an accordion, fiddle, a triangle...'
"REID," came the unison yell from the table cutting him off in mid sentence. Spencer Reid wasn't offended, quite the contrary, he had secretly learned to enjoy their affectionate teasing about his obsessive information over-share. If truth be told, he pretty much knew at this point in his life where to stop, he just liked to tease the team a bit himself.
With their mason jars refilled several more times, the waitress arrived carrying two large platters of crawfish, multiple plates of oysters and two side orders of an unknown fried food and enough French fries that the entire bar could share.
"Look at you sweetheart, you have your hands full," Dave said winking to the waitress.
"Oh darlin' you have no idea how much I can handle," the waitress replied coyly. Morgan choked on his beer and immediately flew into a coughing fit.
"Jesus, Dave, do you have any control on that at all?" Hotch said quietly as he gave Dave a sideways glance.
Dave responded with a bit of a smug look and an ornery grin, "What can I say Aaron, the ladies, they love me."
Unaware of the theatrics going on within the group, the waitress proudly displayed the food on the table and explained, "Just like the t-shirt says ya'll, you pinch the tail on the crawfish to pull it off then peel it back to eat the meat. If you're real daring, you can suck the brains out of the heads." She winked at Dave.
Knowing the senior profiler too well, immediately Hotch cleared his throat and glared at Dave.
"What, Aaron, I didn't say a thing," Rossi cried out with a phony look of innocence as he raised his hands in the air a bit.
"I also brought you another regional favorite seeing as how ya'll aren't from the area," she giggled before finishing up her instructions. "These are alligator nuggets and they're deeeeelicious. Hope ya'll enjoy the meal and let me know if I can do anything for you."
There was a moment of astonished silence as she walked away.
In a southern accent JJ broke the silence, "Wow ya'll, and here I didn't even know that alligators had nuggets."
"Yeah Rossi, and apparently they are the best part, I hear they are...deeeelicious" Emily added as she hung on the last word for emphasis.
"Rossi, man, yeah, you know how to work it" Morgan nodded in approval as he high fived him.
Hotch couldn't help himself and he added his own two cents by congratulating Dave on still being able to attract such fine, upstanding young ladies.
"You guys are gross." Penelope chided. "And speaking of gross, look at those things," she said as she pointed to the crawfish.
"I'm with you baby girl," Morgan agreed. "I ain't eatin' that shit. As a matter of fact, I don't even want their beady-eye, red shell, claw pinchin' asses near me." He pushed the trays of crawfish as far away from him as he could.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Rossi laughed. "Afraid of the big, bad crawfish Derek?"
"Yeah, my sense of adventure stops right there at that big ol' plate of oysters. Oysters are aphrodisiacs," Morgan replied with a smile and a couple of head nods.
"Well for god's sake keep them away from Dave," Hotch warned.
Their laughter and snide comments continued. As the night progressed the team ate their dinner, enjoyed their adult beverages and shared embarrassing moments they had experienced over the years. The music slowly changed to more of a classic rock genre and as the team loosened up, they sang 'Pour Some Sugar on Me'. Hotch surprised them all when he joined in the chorus of, 'I'm hot, sticky sweet from my head to my feet.' The highlight was Garcia's very brief solo dance to the number for her chocolate god, Derek. The tavern grew louder as did the BAU members. Reid returned from the bathroom proclaiming to have met the largest bug that he was sure had survived the Jurassic period and Emily was once again in the reoccurring debate with Hotch over whether Abbey Road or the White Album was the Beatles' best.
"Oh my god, wait, did I just detect slurred words spoken by my Derek Morgan?" Garcia squealed gaining the attention of the team.
"I most certainly did not wur my slords," Morgan protested with righteous indignation. "Oh damn, I meant slur my words. I am not drunk PG!"
"I don't know Morgan," Reid jumped into the conversation. "I wouldn't be surprised considering the extreme temperatures we have been working in. We are all probably suffering from varying degrees of dehydration and don't even realize it. You know, add alcohol to that equation...well, and yeah...the slurring really does makes sense."
"Far be it for me to pass up an opportunity to take advantage of a tipsy Derek Morgan," Penelope whispered as a devious smile spread across s face.
"Oh no PG, I don't like that look." Prentiss was slowly shaking her head with a bit of an evil grin herself. "Come on, tell me, tell me tell me!" Emily begged, not caring that she looked like a middle school girl wanting to know the latest gossip. This was Morgan and whatever Pen was cooking up she wanted to be a part of.
"Hey Spence, you should get in on this," JJ quietly encouraged. "Goodness knows, Morgan's certainly had some fun at your expense over the years."
Reid, Penelope and Prentiss put their heads together and talked quietly. The other team members were keeping Morgan preoccupied in the conversation of whether Rossi should get the phone number of their waitress. She certainly wasn't shy about letting him know she was interested, touching his shoulder as she walked by throughout the evening. Little did the group know that their server had already slipped a napkin into Dave's back pants pocket earlier when she accosted him while he approached the bar.
If Rossi hadn't been mistaken, he thought he might have caught just a glimpse of the green eyed monster coming out in the beautiful Miss Jennifer Jareau, at least he hoped he had. David Rossi had absolutely no plan of calling that number in his back pocket, he had his eye on something a bit more meaningful and wasn't about to screw that up. But, for distraction purposes, the pretense worked and Derek sat there encouraging Dave to 'go for it' as the other three plotted.
A few minutes later the two groups converged. "Hey Penelope, you see that guy at the bar, I think he's checking you out," Emily said elbowing Garcia.
Penelope made a face and leaned in talking quietly to the group. "Ew, his name is Thibodeaux which I guess is some kind of Cajun name, and the last time I went to the bathroom and walked by him, he asked for my phone number and I'm pretty sure he rubbed my ass."
"He probably saw that 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' dance," Hotch said under his breath with a straight face. Rossi and JJ both chuckled at the memory of Morgan getting treated to the five second Penelope Garcia lap dance before she remembered Hotch was there.
"Hey Morgan, I bet you ole Thibodeaux over there benches an easy 300 lbs." Prentises said nodding with her head towards the bar where the Cajun was sitting.
"Yeah, look at his arms. I wouldn't mess around with him Morgan, he looks like he could probably even take you in an arm wrestling contest." Reid cajoled.
"What are you fools talking about?" Derek said annoyed that they could possibly think anyone else could take him down. He was the resident bad ass and he had a reputation to keep.
Penelope added innocently, "Seriously Derek, there is no way you could beat him at arm wrestling. Look at all his muscles; I just don't think that would be a good idea for you." She was pinching his cheeks with her last few words.
Morgan was totally offended and made no attempts at hiding it. "I'll tell you what, let's make a little wager here, Miss Penelope. How about I invite your little ass feeling friend, Trilobite over there, to a friendly arm wrestling competition. If I win, you have to pucker up and kiss his Louisiana lovin' lips." Feeling extra confident in his arm wrestling skills most likely brought on by the alcohol, he added, "And if your friend over there wins, well then you get the honor of kissing the legendary Derek Morgan. Oh, and I promise you, there have never been any complaints." He flashed his smile and wiggled his trademark eyebrows.
"Oh for Christ's sake, he might actually be more conceited than you Dave," Hotch quietly said to his friend as they watched the spectacle unfolding in front of them while sipping their drinks.
"That hurts Aaron. That really hurts," Dave replied with a smirk on his face. "Now be quiet, this is getting good."
Penelope turned to Prentiss, and then to Reid, and the three of them looked straight at Morgan and shouted, "Deal" at the same time. In retrospect, that really should have been a red flag but by the time Derek realized that, he had lost the quickest arm wrestling match of his life to the one and only Louisiana state champion for the last ten years. Luckily for Derek, he managed to escape without a broken arm apparently unlike Mr. Thibodeaux's previous three contenders.
"Alright Penelope, I present myself as a present to you to do with as you wish," Morgan plopped down in the chair right in front of Garcia. His ego was tarnished a bit from the loss but he knew he had gotten the better end of this deal from the beginning. He had thought all along getting a little lovin' from the marvelous Miss P. wasn't something to complain about. Nope, not at all.
"Derek, this is so embarrassing, I feel so self conscious. If you look at me with those beautiful brown eyes while I am kissing you, I think I might actually pass out. Don't look at me, pleassse!" Penelope pleaded almost in tears as she was fanning herself with her hands.
"Hey, hey, baby girl, whatever you need me to do," Morgan consoled enjoying the fact that Penelope was so worked up over the prospect of kissing him.
Morgan sat in his chair and closed his eyes as a fearful Garcia approached him for her victory kiss.
"Oh my Penelope girl, you are one hot spicy mama, my mouth is on fire," he crooned as he slowly opened his eyes.
In that instant, Derek Morgan let out the high pitched scream of a ten year old school girl as he sat face to face, lip to lip with the biggest, pinching claw and beady black eyed crawfish he had ever seen. All four of his arms and legs moved at once trying to push
as quickly away from the creature until he fell over backwards in his chair and spit out words that even Prentiss hadn't heard in years.
"Impressive vocabulary Morgan, wait, were you just kissing a mudbug?" Reid tried to say without cracking a smile.
"Aww Penelope, baby girl, that was mean. Whatchu wanna do that to your Derek for?" he moaned as the entire bar was looking at him laying on the floor. Garcia, Prentiss and Reid all helped him up while the entire team laughed and JJ wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Wait a minute baby girl, you set me up with that arm wrestling dude…you knew he was a ringer."
"Actually Morgan, that was me and Reid." Emily happily jumped in. "Yeah, we had a friendly chit chat with Mr. Thibodeaux over there after he rescued Reid from the Jurassic bug and he started spouting off about his amazing arm wrestling abilities."
With a smile, Reid and Prentiss looked over and waved at their new found friends at the bar who raised their glasses of beer and mouthed the word 'thanks' towards them. "Hey no problem guys, back at ya," Prentiss shouted back grinning.
"Payback is a bitch, my friends." Morgan warned as he tried to regain his composure.
"Yeah, pretty sure you should know about that Morgan considering you just got repaid. I owed you for the whistle incident," Reid spit out a bit more vindictively than he had wanted to.
"Reid, seriously, Jesus, that was like six years ago," Derek whined.
"People never forget Morgan, people never forget," he shouted over his shoulder as he quickly walked away toward Prentiss with a bit of a triumphant look on his face.
"Baby girl, you and I are gonna have to have a talk about this," but Penelope, trying to look concerned, smiled a little because she knew exactly how to twist her chocolate hunk of man candy around her finger.
"Annnnnd with that, it is time to pay the bill and exit this fine establishment," Rossi stood up from the table straightening his shirt and looked at the group. "Come on kids, time to go home before we find ourselves escorted out."
The elite team of profilers walked across the parking lot of crushed white oyster shells that softly glowed in the moonlight. Finding the path that led them towards their hotel next door, they talked and laughed about the evening's escapades; visions of the last few days having temporarily faded from their memories. Hotch and Rossi, bringing up the rear, looked over at each other knowing that they had accomplished their mission tonight. Flashing a rare smile, the unit chief reflected back on the evening, "We have a hell of team Dave, and they needed that." Dave nodded with a smile, "Indeed, my friend, we ALL needed that.