So it's the second day of deer season in a state where hunting is a religion, and it's snowing. Perfect time for my mind to wander... :)
Standard disclaimers apply.
"It's snowing."
Rossi rolled his eyes for what had to be the fourteenth time that morning. "Yeah. It's snowing. Makes it easier to spot their trails."
"Is it always this cold?"
"You wanted to come."
There was silence as a pair of teeth was trying not to chatter. "N-not ex-xact-tly," a small voice said.
"What?" Rossi looked down from the blind, hoping to see the elusive prize they'd been waiting for.
"Well, I kind of had this bet with, ah, Morgan and Emily…"
"Don't tell me."
"I, uh, lost?" Wide eyes looked at the older man, full of nervous embarrassment.
"What was the bet, if I might ask?"
The wide eyes shifted their gaze towards the ground. "Target practice."
"Oh, boy." Reid's 'expertise' at target shooting was legendary. For all the wrong reasons. "How bad was it?"
"The range guys framed my target as an example on what not to do when handling a firearm?"
"Reid. How bad was it?"
"One in the ear, one in the knee, and two clips that missed completely."
Rossi shook his head, keeping one eye out for his prey. "So you asked to come with me on Opening Day in the middle of the biggest deer hunting state on the planet?"
"They said I should take lessons from the best."
The hunter shook his head slightly, trying not to laugh. He knew full well that Hotch personally coached Reid twice a year when it came to his firearms qualifiers, and twice a year Hotch would come back up to his office and pull out the really strong coffee while making another appointment with his barber to hide the sudden bald spots.
"And I know something Hotch doesn't?"
"Something about patience?"
"Oh. Well, there's…" Rossi let his voice trail as he saw it—a beautiful fifteen-point walking in time with a couple of does. "Reid, don't breathe," he hissed as he readied his rifle.
"Why?" the younger man asked before turning his head. The sight of the animals walking in time through the wintery landscape was more than enough to keep him silent. They're beautiful, Reid thought as the buck stopped to take a drink from the stream.
The sudden shot of Rossi's rifle startled the agent, and Reid screamed from the fright of the noise next to his ear and the sight of the giant deer falling over dead.
"Yes!" Rossi said, going over to see his kill. Reid shivered in place inside the blind, his eyes wide now with terror at the sight of a sane, rational man so happy over causing the death of another creature. "Reid, it's all right," Rossi called over. "Come on over, I'll give you that lesson."
Grimacing as he did so, Reid stepped cautiously towards the dead carcass. "You see where the shot hit?" Rossi asked him.
"Middle of the torso, center mass for a deer. You exploded its heart."
"Yes. That's what patience can do. It can let you take the time to make the right shot, not just the ones that your mind thinks you need to make.
Like the shot that killed Dowd, Reid thought. And Tobias. It was about instinct, not necessarily training—though that does help.
"You ever eaten venison, Reid?"
"Uh…no," the younger man admitted sheepishly. "I lived in Las Vegas, remember? Not a lot of deer in that part of the country…"
"Oh. Yeah. Well, you're in for a treat. Soon as we process this deer, we'll be having steak and mushrooms with a little merlot…"
Reid wondered heavily on this whole processing issue, as he had a feeling it didn't involve paperwork or putting the deer corpse in the local veterinary morgue…