A/N
Okay, the prompt for this fic, provided to me by Annber03, was "The team gets stranded somewhere (work, Rossi's place, someone else's house, a cabin, etc.) during a snowstorm. What do they do to kill time?" but I realised now that I barely bring up either the snowstorm or the location. But that's the setting; Rossi's place, during a snowstorm that has them stuck.
Also, I have only played Monopoly once, like twenty years ago, and I only agreed to play because I got to pick the horse-and-rider-token. That's my interest of the business world in a nutshell, which, come to think of it, probably also explains why I'm not rich.
Yet. :D
"Holy shit Blake, I didn't know you were this competitive," Rossi said, sincerely in awe. Blake cocked her head to the side and held out her hand.
"I have many secret traits. Pay up," she ordered. Rossi counted the monopoly money and handed over the correct sum.
"I'm almost broke," he complained.
"Me too. I quit. There's no way I can beat Capitalist Lady here," Morgan said. Blake turned and gave him a sharp glare.
"Nobody quits. If you got yourself into it, you stay. I want the pleasure of personally beating all of you fair and square."
"That self-confidence, though," Morgan grinned and reached for his beer.
"I think I have a chance at beating you, Alex," Reid mused, eyeing the board.
"Dream on, you'll go home broke like all the others," Blake responded and reached for the dice.
Garcia, who was already out and watched the game – or rather the combatants playing it - grabbed JJ's shoulder and hissed;
"She's scaring me, Jajye."
"She's actually starting to scare me too," JJ replied, but she was smiling.
"It's like watching Jekyll turn into Hyde," Rossi mouthed to Hotch, who nodded and took a drink from his scotch.
"Less grumbling, more playing," Blake said, moving her token across the board. She had picked the battleship, and it seemed quite appropriate – she simply torpedoed everyone else's attempts at winning.
"We've been playing for hours, and you own most of the property," Hotch said, but the liquor had lubricated his usual strictness into serenity, and he sounded more amused than anything else. "I think it's pretty obvious you're going to win."
"Of course I'm going to win, that's not the point," Blake said and finished off Morgan and Rossi with a single purchase. Rossi groaned loudly.
"Now that you're so well-off, I'm going to charge you for that Bordeaux you're drinking," he said. Blake looked up and flashed a smile at him.
"Sure. I'll pay with Monopoly money though, is that alright?"
He chuckled out loud.
"Fine."
"The point is," Blake continued as Hotch threw the dice, "that you keep playing the game until it's finished. Once you've agreed to the rules, you play till the end. You'll never know what may happen down the line. It might not have the expected outcome at all."
Hotch moved his piece – the top hat – and landed on (surprise!) Blake's property, having to pay the last of his cash. He shook his head.
"Well, looks like I'm off the game anyway."
"Tough luck," Blake said indifferently. Hotch couldn't help chuckling a little.
"I've never seen this side of you before," he said. "With this type of business-related ruthlessness, how come you aren't a millionaire in real life?"
Blake merely smiled, but didn't reply.
Meanwhile Reid examined the dice.
"I think, based on the hypothesis…"
"Just throw," JJ said and tossed a handful of Cheetos into her mouth. Reid scowled at her, but decided that a lecture in probability wasn't likely to be appreciated by his team mates at the moment. Not that it ever was, of course. He sighed and threw the dice.
"Jail?!" he shrieked. "I calculated with the probability that I'd land on…"
But Blake had already incarcerated his wheelbarrow, with an efficiency that made the BAU in its entirety seem slow in comparison. She handed the dice over to JJ, who grinned broadly and brushed some Cheetos dust off her shirt.
"Oh Alex, dear, sweet Alex, I'm going to give you a run for your money," she said in a joyful voice. "I'm feeling lucky."
"Bring it on," Blake replied, her eyes sparkling with glee as she leaned back and sipped the wine.
JJ did indeed bring it on, but Blake eventually won the game to the surprise of no one.
"So much for the least expected outcome," Rossi remarked.
"Wanna play again?" she asked.
"No!" Rossi and Reid said in perfect unison, and Blake laughed.
"For some reason, I didn't think so."
"Why aren't you a millionaire in real life?" Morgan asked.
"Whoever told you I'm not?" Blake replied calmly. "I mean, I don't rip off innocent people in real life, but… let's say I do have a somewhat larger income than what I make from the FBI and Georgetown."
"How much larger?" Reid said. He still hadn't recovered from his massive miscalculation and not even the Irish Coffee Garcia had provided him with could undo his disappointment… although it did cushion the fall quite a bit.
"It's… a six figure above, a year," Blake said, avoiding eye contact.
"And you still drink my Bordeaux for free, you cheapskate!" Rossi exclaimed.
"Like you're struggling to get by!" she replied, grinning. "You make it sound like I don't even pay when we go out," she continued, not even realising what she revealed with this simple comment.
"What do you do with that kind of money?" JJ asked. "I mean, you're always working, where do you spend the money?"
Blake's cheeks flushed a little.
"That… uh, doesn't matter."
"Drugs or prostitutes?" JJ joked. "Come on Alex…! Spill it! We're your friends…"
"… even though you occasionally rip us off," Reid added helpfully.
"I know it's not clothes," Garcia piped up. "I mean, you dress well, but it's not expensive-expensive. And I think you only have six pairs of shoes."
"Four," Blake corrected her. "Plus my semi-retired hiking boots."
"Five pairs of shoes," Garcia almost whined. "With six figure income extra each year. With that kind of money I would have five thousand pairs of shoes!"
"I don't… need that," Blake said. Hyde had transformed back into Jekyll and now she looked mostly uncomfortable with the same attention she had seemed to enjoy while they were competing.
"Well, duh, neither do I, but I would!" Garcia said. "Where does your money go, Pretty Lady?"
Everybody watched her eagerly. Blake sighed.
"Most of it to Doctors Without Borders. Some to the Red Cross."
"And she's a philanthropist at that!" Garcia said, sounding almost frustrated, but then something else crossed her mind. "Wait, what do you mean you pay when you and Rossi go out? Out? Like on dates? Huh?"
Blake's eyes darted to Rossi in quiet panic, but he only smirked and shook his head.
"Oh no Alex, you got yourself into this. You accepted the rules, now you play."
"God, I hate it when people make me eat my own words," Blake muttered and fidgeted with the bracelet of her watch. "Yeah, okay, yes. Like on dates."
Hotch glanced over at Rossi.
"You never told me this."
"Aaron, you may be one of my oldest and dearest friends, but even you don't need to know everything that goes on in my life," Rossi replied, and he sounded thoroughly pleased to have fooled his old friend.
"How long?" Hotch asked, sounding suspicious.
"Not that long," Blake quickly said.
"One year in March," Rossi said.
"Are we the worst profilers in the world, or do they have the best poker faces?" Morgan asked JJ across the table. JJ didn't even reply, she just stared at Blake as if she had never seen her before.
"That elevator… it was never really stuck, was it?" she said.
"No…" Blake admitted in a small voice, remembering that time clearly. They had agreed to never act out their attraction at work, but there was that one time in the elevator, when they had simply glanced at each other and the next thing they knew items of clothing flew around them and they jumped each other like lions in heat. She couldn't even remember who had stopped the elevator, but it certainly hadn't been stuck on its own accord.
"That explains the noises from the restroom too," Reid said.
"No… actually… that was Derek and I," Garcia said, blushing so hard it was visible through her makeup.
"That I was aware of," Hotch said dryly.
An awkward silence followed, only broken by the howling wind and the crackling from the fireplace. Then Rossi stood up, clasped his hands together and said;
"Well, I think we need more drinks, so we can all pretend we have forgotten tonight's revelations when we wake up tomorrow."
A general murmur of consensus greeted his suggestion.