With a Smile
It had been a hell of a week, between tying up the last case and dealing with Strauss's latest breakdown. It had taken both her and JJ to calm the woman down, and Emily was fairly certain that Strauss was using some variety of uppers and downers that caused her to spaz out periodically. Usually at Hotch. What the woman's problem with their unit chief was, Emily had less desire to know then the interior contents of Jeffrey Dahlmer's mind.
But it was over, thank God. Being an Ambassador's daughter had the advantage of learning diplomacy at an early age. And JJ seemed to breathe that stuff more naturally then oxygen.
Emily was looking for her keys when she saw Hotch. He was standing by his car, keys out, staring into space.
She debated for about two second before approaching him. "Hotch?"
He started. "Prentiss."
"Not to interrupt, but are you okay? Strauss really laid into you."
He snorted. "I know."
She fumbled for something. "Do you want to go out for a drink or something?"
"That would only lend validity to the rumor that we're, how did she put it, oh yes-screwing around behind the Bureau's back."
Emily backed off, hands out. Sometimes Hotch was as virulently tempered as the unsubs they dealt with daily.
"Sorry, Hotch. And just so you know, JJ and I have her pretty well convinced that she doesn't have a clue about any perceived sexual relationship. So cool it."
She turned away before he could react. If he wanted to have a temper tantrum, so be it. She got into her car and drove off, thinking longingly of a beer from her fridge and a Strauss-free weekend. And a Hotch-free weekend. And a generally idiot-free weekend.
Thank God for Fridays.
As she searched for her key on her ring, she heard a scrape. Attuned, she looked around, but the lot was deserted.
Long day. Long day locked in a room with Strauss, and too many Dean Koontz novels.
When she heard the sound again, it was a second before a cloth descended across her face. She smelled the sticky scent of donut glaze, grabbed for whatever was at her mouth, and passed out.
Author's Note: Sorry, I just had to kidnap Prentiss. And I really do believe Strauss is on some kind of meds without a doctor. No one can have that many mood swings, be in the Bureau, and NOT be addicted to things of a chemical nature. Reid's bout with Diluaded, anyone?