AU. The BAU is now English aristocracy investigating Jack the Ripper. Lord Aaron believes the next target is his wife, Emily. He enlists the help of David Rossi, an Italian with a very scandalous reputation, and the shy Professor Reid. Emily's friend Penelope has her own problems, such as being married off to Derek Morgan, and Jennifer is keeping secrets...Most characters from seasons 1-11 will be used. Hotly. Morcia. Strossi.
A/N: I have taken some liberties with the legend of Jack the Ripper. Obviously Jack killed prostitutes, but I am making him take a step (or two) up, and start killing peers of the realm.
CHARACTERS from ALL eleven seasons will be used, from Elle to Tara.
Aaron wasn't sure why, but he had a gut feeling that his wife was next. When he read the paper telling that Jack the Ripper had killed again, and this time a member of the middle class, he suddenly remembered his wife's roots.
She'd had an interesting past, there was no doubt about that, and Aaron had a feeling that their paths had crossed. And there was that man that Emily kept reporting seeing.
How was he supposed to not worry?
He got up from the breakfast table, laid down the newspaper, and hurried from the room. He took the stairs two at a time, until he reached the nursery. As he'd expected, Emily was there, trying to give Lucy breakfast.
He smiled at the scene. "Is she giving you trouble?"
"When does she not?" Emily returned. "And yes, she utterly refuses to eat her porridge."
Aaron walked over and whispered in Lucy's ear. At the words, she finished her bowl lickety-split, and Nanny took her off to give her a bath.
"Darling, why were you looking for me?" Emily asked, standing up. He hurried to help her, taking hold of her hands.
"Maybe I just came to see Lucy," he said, and she shook her head. "All right. I'm worried about you."
"You shouldn't be. Dr. Carlisle says everything is as it should be, and in three months, I should give birth to a perfectly healthy baby."
"Not about that, darling," he said, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Aaron, what are you talking about?"
"You remember that man you've seen following you? Call it whatever you like, and it does sound ridiculous, but I think it is the Whitechapel murderer."
Emily stilled, and she tried to laugh it off. "What do you mean, Aaron? Why would he target me? He has only killed whores so far."
She regretted her last words, and tried to wiggle away from Aaron's embrace. "Don't forget about your past, Emily," Aaron said. "You may have been born to an Earl, but you didn't live like his daughter for at least five years of your life. Have you forgotten what happened then?"
"Stop, Aaron. We agreed to never talk about this," Emily said, and managed to pull away from him.
"I don't hold it against you," he said. "This is simply why his next target is you."
"No, no, I haven't had contact with anyone from that part of my life in years. It can't have anything to do with this, and that man was not the Whitechapel murderer, or what are they calling him?"
"Jack the Ripper," Aaron said softly. She tossed her head.
"What a silly name."
"Silly or not, I'm going to see David."
Emily shot him a disbelieving look. "Why would you want to see that...Italian?"
"You say that as if it's a bad word," Aaron said, folding his arms.
"It might as well be when it is David Rossi we are talking about. I simply chose Italian because the other words I was thinking were not suitable."
Penelope was the first one Emily called on. "My husband is being a fool," Emily told her as she stormed into the room.
Penelope turned away from the bookshelf she was standing at, and adjusted her glasses. "What kind of fool?" She asked. "And at least you have one, and your mother doesn't arrange humiliating meetings with any man who looks twice at you."
"Oh, I'd forgotten that you have troubles of your own. How many is that?" Emily asked, halting.
"This year alone, she's arranged nine meetings for me. All the men were idiots. And none of them could stand having a wife who was fat, read books and refused to remove her glasses when meeting them," Penelope said, propping her hands on her hips.
"You aren't fat," Emily protested.
"I don't consider myself to be, but Sir Lynch assured me I was. He asked me if my unfortunate diet choices would lessen once I was safely ensconced in married life."
"How dare he!" Emily said, anger clear in her voice.
"Don't worry," Penelope said, walking over to her. "I spilled my tea on him."
Emily burst out laughing, and pulled Penelope to sit down with her. "Good for you, Penelope."
"I want to marry, not because I, well, want to marry, but to get out of this house."
"I know," Emily assured her.
"But you had news," Penelope said. "What is Lord Hotchner doing?"
Emily scoffed. "Remember that man I saw, just a few times? He has convinced himself it is the Whitechapel murderer."
Penelope laughed. "Really? Why on earth would he think—oh!"
"Not you too," Emily said, sobering. "I swear, there's no way this is connected to my time spent...No, Penelope."
Penelope looked at her, gaze very serious. "Emily, if there is any chance, shouldn't Lord Hotchner look into it?"
"He went to see David Rossi. I think that's enough."
"Oh, David Rossi! I've always wanted to meet him," Penelope said, looking excited.
"Don't be silly! If this gets out, I'll never live it down."
"But he's a legend!" Penelope protested.
"For the scandalous. I have tried so hard to live a decent, respectable life, and so far it's gone well. No one from my past has popped up. And now Aaron is practically inviting them to. I've remained hidden, I haven't set one foot in France or Italy. And if there is anyone who could figure out my past, it's David Rossi."
"Don't worry so much," Penelope scolded. "He won't ask to meet you, after all."
"Why do you say that? Why wouldn't he?"
"Well, he wouldn't be received," Penelope said.
"My husband would not only receive him, he'd invite with open arms," Emily sighed.
Penelope shrugged. "I have to say, Emily, that it does seem serious," she said. "David Rossi may be scandalous, but you used to welcome scandal."
Emily adjusted her skirt. "That was before I grew up," she said softly. "Before my mother died. Before the man I loved turned out to be a monster."
A maid appeared in the doorway before Penelope could answer. "Your pardon, but Lady Jennifer is here to see you."
"Jennifer is back in London?" Emily exclaimed. "You didn't mention that!"
"I didn't know!" Penelope returned. "Please, show her in."
The maid hesitated. "Your mother is a bit angry with you right now, Lady Penelope. Because of what happened—"
"With Sir Lynch, I know," Penelope said. "Surely she's not going to forbid me visitors, Mary? Show Jennifer in."
"Of course," Mary replied and left as quietly as she had come.
"She is back from her confinement so soon," Emily said quietly, as Jennifer walked into the room.
She looked tired. She looked worried and like she hadn't had a good meal in months.
And...
"Surely you'd be showing by now?" Emily asked, puzzled, before she realized and clapped a hand to her mouth. "No, Jennifer!"
Penelope's eyes had already filled with tears. "Jennifer..."
Their friend stepped forward, holding out her hands. "This isn't how you welcome friends, is it?" She asked and they ran to her.
Emily felt Jennifer's shaky breathing as they hugged.
"I lost the baby, yes," Jennifer said. "But I have Henry. And life will move on." She gave them a tight smile, moving to sit down.
"You don't look well at all," Penelope protested. "Are you sure you are all right?"
"It was hard," Jennifer said. "And..." Her voice trailed off. "It's too hard to talk about right now," she said briskly. "Come on, Penelope. What horrors of men has your mother been introducing you to lately?"
"Sir Kevin Lynch," Emily announced. "I know he shares your Scottish heritage, but my god, what a horrible man."
"I remember him," Jennifer said, almost laughing. "He used to try to look down my dress if I was ever unlucky enough to dance with the man. But he's not even a catch. Why would your mother ever try to force him on you?"
"She grows desperate," Penelope said simply, sitting down on the floor and her dress billowed around her. "She'd marry me off to any man at this point, if he was breathing. And unmarried, of course."
"Though there was that Mr. Brody," Emily reminded. "He turned out to be married but before that your mother was convinced he was perfect."
Jennifer and Penelope laughed at the memory.
"Was he the one with the nose?" Jennifer asked. "Who was always asking you to discuss Theology with him?"
"Yes, he thought because I read, I must be reading religious literature, but I had to disillusion him and tell him I have a penchant for the romantic novel," Penelope said. "He was most disappointed. As they all are." She cleared her throat. "I know by now that I will never find a man that measures up to my standards."
"And what are those?" Jennifer asked curiously. "I've never heard you talk about this before."
"I only just made a list," Penelope said. "I was listing off the best characteristics for heroes in books to have when I realized I was really just listing the man I dream of."
"So who do you dream of, Penelope?" Jennifer asked. "Still Samuel Cooper from your youth?"
"I don't remember you mentioning a Samuel," Emily frowned.
"Jennifer, I do not still pine for Samuel Cooper," Penelope scolded, but then her eyes sparkled. "Let me find my list. I put it inside the book I was reading to mark my place, but I can't remember which it was because I started three last night and didn't finish any of them. Let me just get them."
Emily turned to Jennifer as Penelope dashed from the room. "You know our promise," she said quietly. "You may have fooled Penelope but you didn't fool me. We don't keep secrets, Jennifer Jareau LaMontagne."
"Not wanting to talk about losing a child is not keeping secrets," Jennifer said sharply.
"See, here's more proof," Emily said. "I understand it must hurt, but you would never treat me harshly in the past for asking."
Jennifer's eyes filled with tears. "Can you believe me when I say that I will tell you in due time?" She asked, her voice raw. "But now..." She shook her head.
"Is Will being good to you?" Emily asked. "My god, is he abusing you?"
"No, it has nothing to do with Will!" Jennifer said and her denial was so vehement that Emily believed her friend.
"Well, that is settled," Emily said. "I just don't know what's left."
"Don't ask me more," Jennifer said. "Not today. Not when there are better things to talk about." She pressed a hand to Emily's stomach. "You are coming along wonderfully."
"Does it hurt you to see me like this?" Emily asked, her voice worried.
"No, it makes me feel better," Jennifer assured her. "To see you healthy and well is one of the things I always wish to see. Especially after what I went through as your friend." Her eyes darkened. "I have read of the Whitechapel murders," she said soberly. "I thought of you immediately."
Emily huffed. "Aaron, and now you! Why, Jennifer?"
"Don't forget what I saw that night," Jennifer said. "Don't forget the secrets I keep on your behalf. I know what things that man is capable of, Emily."
Emily looked away. "So do I. Murder is not one of them."
"How can you deny what he did to you?" Jennifer asked.
"My life was never in danger," Emily said stiffly.
"I found it," Penelope said, bursting back in, and noticed their expressions. "What is it?"
"Please, read it," Jennifer said. "Quickly."
Penelope looked between her friends. "All right. I..." Her eyes were troubled and she paused. "Are there more important things to speak of?"
"Just read the list," Jennifer said. "I need some cheer. What is your definition of the perfect hero?"
"He must be tall," Penelope said. "Dark and dashing." She giggled. "I know it is not the mode, but I like men with muscles, who are experts with swords."
"And what else?" Emily asked, joining the game. "Someone who will buy you chocolates every day?"
"Not every day!" Penelope protested. "Someone who will make me feel like I am beautiful. Someone who will flirt with me as outrageously as some of these men flirt with their ladies," she said, thumping a stack of books. "I don't want someone dull. I want someone as wild and shocking as I am."
"So that he won't be shocked by you," Emily said slyly.
"Exactly," Penelope said. "Someone worldly and travelled." She sighed, hugging the list to her chest.
"Do you have a name for this hero?" Jennifer asked.
"No, but there is one hero," Penelope said. "He comes closer than others. His name is Benedict and he appears in this book, Lady Astor, and it's by my favorite author, Della R. Walters." She sighed again. "I like Miss Walter's heroes over all of the others I have ever met in my books." She smiled brilliantly. "She is writing a new book and I cannot wait to read it!"
"Penelope," a voice called from upstairs and Emily and Jennifer exchanged panicked glances.
"Oh, rats," Penelope said, hearing her mother's voice. "Er, would you two mind leaving now? This scene is better had without an audience."
"Of course," Jennifer said, standing immediately. "We have overstayed our welcome."
"Not at all," Penelope protested but saw the look in her friend's eyes. "Maybe according to her, you have!" She giggled. "Now go."
"I hope you can find your hero soon," Emily whispered. "I think you'll be able to."
Penelope just shrugged. "Not if my mother keeps trying to pair me with worse and worse suitors," she said and her two friends fled the house.
Penelope tried to pretend that she was busy, but her mother saw through it immediately.
"Penelope, put that ridiculous book away," Lady Erin Strauss insisted, sweeping into the room. "How many times have you I seen you reading those ridiculous things?"
"They are not ridiculous," Penelope said. "Della R. Walters is a genius."
"No, she is not," Erin said. "She encourages young girls to fantasize that men will come sweeping into their life and steal them away. It doesn't happen without work," she continued. "You have to go out and try to meet men."
"I do go out," Penelope said.
"Not to the bookstore," Erin said. "To balls and card parties."
"I do go to balls," Penelope said.
"And you find the quietest corner to hide in!" Erin exclaimed. "There is no more money, Penelope. You have to marry to save us."
Here it was. The moment that Penelope felt guilty that she was still a spinster.
"Mother, I would marry if I could find one man who was tolerable," Penelope said. "Besides, you are young enough. Why don't you marry again?"
Erin huffed. "I have paid my dues," she said grimly. "I married a dull, but rich man, and gave him a daughter." She threw her hands up. "You know that I love you but it's more than that."
"I know, mother," Penelope said. "So why don't you let me get a job or something? I could write or sort things..." She trailed off, seeing the look on her mother's face.
"Marriage is the answer," Erin said. "I married a lord for a reason, Penelope. It is not time for you to go off and waste the fact that you are nobility. There are still unmarried lords," she said. "Catch one of them."
"I do not like any of them," Penelope said. "And they do not like me."
"Not when you pour tea on them!" Erin said. "I barely managed to calm Sir Lynch down before he left here."
"Sir Lynch is horrible," Penelope said. "He insulted me."
Erin's eyebrow raised. "What did he say?"
Penelope faltered, crossing her arms over her chest. "He said that I was unpleasingly plump."
"I suppose he is not the man for you after all," Erin sighed and stepped closer to her daughter. "I find you beautiful, Penelope," she said softly. "Even if no man can see that."
Penelope sighed with her mother and they were silent for a moment.
"Can't you understand how important it is?" Erin asked. "We could lose the house and everything."
Penelope nodded. "I do understand. But I cannot marry a man who I don't at least like. I...I'll try harder to be asked to dance at parties."
Erin smiled. "It's already your fourth season," she said. "But I think you can catch someone yet. Especially since Lady Thorpe's ball is tomorrow."
Dr. Reid was looking at one of the richest men in London, and he was only just off the boat from Africa.
"My father didn't have any male heirs that were legitimate," Derek Morgan said. "So he sent for me."
He shrugged the words off as if they didn't hurt.
They would have hurt, had it been Dr. Reid saying them.
"Regardless the circumstances, I am happy that you are back," Reid said. "You are one of my close friends."
"Thank you for meeting my boat," Derek said. "My father left for Bath to look after his health. I do not think he expected my ship to dock so soon." He paused. "It's interesting to be back in England. It's been so many years. I will soon be the most richest bachelor in London, won't I?" Derek asked.
"I believe you are the third," Reid said as they walked through a crowded London street. "Lord Doyle is richer but women have long since stopped expecting him to marry."
"He's the recluse?"Derek asked. "It's been so long but I tried to remember as much as possible."
"Yes, Lord Doyle rarely leaves his house," Reid said. "And there is David Rossi."
Derek barked a laugh. "David Rossi. I remember him. He was Aaron's friend."
Reid nodded. "I have gotten to know him quite well since you left," he said, leading Derek across the street since his friend was obviously still relearning his way around the city. "He is very smart and well travelled. He's the most interesting person I have met since Jason Gideon."
"Really?" Derek mused. "He must really be an impressive man, then."
"To say the least," Reid said. "I have learned much from him."
"Where are we going?" Derek asked, pausing.
"To Aaron's townhouse," Reid said. "He asked us to meet him there. Something about trouble. He heard that your boat was about to dock and asked me to bring you along so he could welcome you home."
"Welcome me home to trouble?" Derek asked. "It's just like old times now, isn't it?"
"You two were always more trouble than you were worth in school," Reid quipped. "Do you recognize where we're going now?"
"I think so," Derek said. "He got remarried, didn't he?"
"To Emily Prentiss," Reid called back.
"So he's become boring again," Derek laughed and Reid chuckled with him.
"Believe me, Emily is nothing like his first wife," Reid said. "Aaron is livelier than he's been in years."
"Good," Derek said. "Emily Prentiss. I don't think I recognize her name."
"She hadn't come out before you left," Reid said. "Her father was an ambassador, and she travelled much in her youth so I am not surprised you don't remember the name."
"Ah," Derek said. "An English beauty with a foreign upbringing." He shrugged. "She sounds intriguing."
"She is," Reid said, as they continued to walk.
"I definitely recognize this now," Derek said, his eyes lighting up. "It's just two lefts and right from here."
"Yes," Reid said, sounding pleased.
They continued to walk, Derek picking up the pace.
"I'm glad to be back in England," Derek said finally. "It feels good. London society won't know what's hit them."
"Lady Thorpe is having a ball tomorrow night," Reid said. "I think Aaron plans to take you there. Believe me, it's the best way to makes waves if that's how you want it. It's the event of the season."
"Good," Derek said. "If I'm going to do this, I want to do it right."
A/N: Many thanks to GhostWhispererFangirl and hotchpodge for agreeing to read this over.
Reviews are very welcome.
