Disclaimer : I do not own Criminal Minds and no infringement of copyright is intended; I have just borrowed characters and let them play with a few of my own.
The unexpected leave passed far too quickly for everyone, but by 8:15 the team were beginning to make an appearance in the BAU department. Emily had been to visit friends in New York and had several lunches with contacts at the U.N. She even managed to find the time to go shopping and was taken to a concert. Emily was filling in J.J. on her purchases when Morgan bounced in with his smile, which he flashed at the newest of the clerical assistants.
"Nice break?" Emily enquired, noticing how refreshed the man looked.
"Great, went home for a few days and then went to join a friend in San Diego. It was really good. I didn't realise how tired I was until I got on the plane to Chicago. What did you do J.J.?"
"Nothing so exciting really, but I got around to decorating the living room in the apartment Simon and I moved into. Then I did some shopping for furnishings and changed a few things round without having to worry about being summoned. It was just nice to have that time to do something without interruption," said the attractive blonde, who like the other two looked rested despite her obvious activities.
"Hotch or Reid in yet?" Morgan enquired, already wanting to be on the move rather than office bound.
"The Director is in with Hotch," said J.J. quietly, "I don't think Hotch was expecting the visitation, but he's been in there a good 30 minutes now."
Emily wondered if it had anything to do with Erin Strauss's politicking while Morgan looked towards the doors for Reid's arrival, and J.J. clarified a secretary's task.
The tall and slender Reid was the last to arrive; he was sauntering along with his tan satchel over his shoulder looking more like a student than a member of an exclusive team. His hair cut, which they all thought was close to the regulations limits, gently waved along the contours of his head and along with his large brown expressive eyes were the most physically attractive things about him. However, he had put on a little weight over the past few months but he still looked painfully thin. Morgan thought how much his Mom wanted to feed him up when they had met, but he knew that Reid was just one of those naturally thin people who could eat anything and not worry about putting on the inches.
"Good morning!" Morgan said as he bounced towards him, "We've all enjoyed our unscheduled week off…I want to thank you for the wonderful time I had," he grinned, every one in the work area came to their own conclusions as to what Morgan had been up to.
Spencer Reid just beamed his trademark smile; it was the kind of smile that made anyone caught in its radiance want to just smile automatically in return.
It was at that moment, Hotch's door opened and the Director stepped out.
"Dr. Reid!" he boomed cheerfully. Reid looked a little embarrassed as the whole room was now listening and taking notice of the Director. He came down the steps with a big smile and hand already held out, "I believe congratulations are in order. Saw your father at the Club, the photographs did the rounds." He added as he heartily shook the young agent's hand.
"Thank you, but they were just a few snaps, I mean neither Catherine or myself wanted any fuss," replied Reid.
"Of course not, she's not the kind of woman to like showy ceremony is she. Your father said it was so unexpected and was delighted that you both wanted him there."
"Of course we wanted Dad there; Catherine gets on really well with him."
"Oh, I know, when ever she's in Washington and he's free, he takes her to the Club, even if its for a quick tea. Of course, at first it set the tongues wagging with speculation, until he told us that the young lady was his son's partner!"
"Yes, I've heard Catherine's side of this, I think they both enjoyed the speculation until General Larson plucked up the courage to go over,"
"Only because his wife would have interrogated him when he got home and he'd have been in trouble if he couldn't provide the answers," the Director gleefully confided.
"Well, must get on, give your wife our best wishes," the Director said as he made his way to the elevators.
Hotch had the witnessed the scene and before the others could recover, from the unusually friendly exchanges between a junior agent and the top man, he said, "Congratulations on your marriage, Spencer. You had better have bought in some photos or Garcia is going to be impossible,"
"Yeah, but they're only snaps…it was just the legalisation of a partnership, you know just immediate family," he said as he looked into his satchel for the envelope.
He suddenly found a crowd of people around him eager to see what was so special about this woman and to try and understand why the Director had shown so much interest. It had not escaped anyone's notice that the Director obviously knew Reid's father but the young agent never spoke about his family. Emily was not the only person who wondered about the father because she knew about the very exclusive Washington Club that they had been talking about. It seemed that she had underestimated Reid's connections and wondered if Strauss had taken these into account while plotting her own moves.
Reid, placed several snaps on a desk, This is Catherine and the little girl is her niece, Lucy, she had to be the flower girl or the world would have come to an end," said Reid and several parents nodded in understanding. In the picture, a beaming little blond child about 4 years old, in a bright red dress, stood between a smartly suited Reid and Catherine. The bride was wearing a gentian blue dress with a matching embroidered jacket. The team had only seen her in the lecture footage of the previous case. Hotch, who had met her, thought who ever had taken these photographs had captured the happiness of the couple and their family members perfectly. There was none of the staged posing and false smiles; everyone looked totally relaxed.
"This is my Dad and he's holding, the other brother's daughter, Daisy," he said as he passed the photo along. It showed a little blond haired girl aged about 18 months, dressed in a pretty floral patterned dress clutching a bright pink dahlia.
"Aren't you like your Dad," said Garcia, capturing the sentiment of those assembled. Reid just nodded and smiled and went onto the next picture.
"Here are Marcus and his wife MaryAnne, and that is their son, Ben, we see a lot of them because he's a doctor at the Richmond hospital, and the nearest brother in age to Catherine." Both parents were of a similar height and build, broad and athletic looking with friendly open faces and blond hair. The agents could all see the similarity between this group and the flower girl.
"Now this photo shows Daniel and Lindy, who are Daisy's parents. They are doctors in Dover, Delaware. We were fortunate because they were not working that weekend. The eldest brother, Charles and his wife, Laura, were on call back in Montana but we went up to see them for a few days." Daniel was like his younger bother, but Laura was a tall, black haired, olive skinned woman, a total contrast to MaryAnne.
"What do they do?" Emily asked.
"Charles is a clinical psychiatrist and Laura is a cardiologist,"
"Wow, a family of doctors, was Catherine expected to be a doctor too? Garcia probed.
"She always says that her parents were disappointed that she didn't go into medicine, but she is happy in her rarefied field," replied Reid evenly.
"What's Catherine do?" Anderson asked, he was intrigued as to who had attracted the young man's attention.
"She's an expert in cuneiform writing and ancient civilisations," answered Reid, knowing that would stop a lot of delving into his wife's background.
"This is Bob, the judge who married us,"
"That's Robert Norton-Holmes," said Hotch, recognising a member of the Virginian Supreme Court.
"Yeah, we use the same stables and often ride with Bob and Helen," explained Reid, who suddenly realised that there were people in the room who were having to revise their knowledge of the quiet man who worked amongst them. The Director had said quite a lot and Reid concluded that it was deliberate, but he didn't know why. Spencer Reid was not a political animal and he hoped he was not going to be drawn into something he didn't understand.
"Here's my father again with Lucy and Daisy: Lucy has adopted Dad as her grandfather because that generation is dead in their families," he smiled, affectionately remembering how his Dad thought it was a wonderful idea. It had brought back good memories of doing things with his father when he was a child.
"What does your Dad do?" Emily asked innocently, but Reid was alert and was prepared.
"Works at the Pentagon in security," he replied succinctly, if she persisted to narrow this down it would draw attention to her probing. But Reid also felt that if she started to ask questions within Pentagon circles he was sure that it would be dealt with appropriately.
"That's just a family group and this final picture are the Montana lot, Charles, Laura and their grown up sons and their families, I do know the names but I'm sure that by now you have the idea that Catherine comes from a large and happy family."
"OK everyone, it's back to work, I want to see the team at 9:15 in the conference room. Reid, I want to see you in my office now," Hotch turned, suddenly the leader of the unit.
"Anyone seen Gideon?" asked J.J.
"No," said Anderson, as he turned to go back to his desk. Garcia stopped a moment to think but shook her head, before continuing thoughtfully to her office.
Reid put his photographs away and sprang up the stairs and through Hotch's open door. He had no idea why his boss wanted to see him alone, he thought that it might be another drugs test.
"Close the door, Reid," Hotch said as the agent entered. Spencer was now very alert because Hotch had that quiet serious air about him and Spencer momentarily wondered what he had done wrong.
Hotch indicated a large comfortable chair and took the companion chair opposite. Spencer thought that this was not a disciplinary matter then, otherwise it would have been the more formal chair before the desk. Spencer was puzzled and must have shown this in his features.
"It's all right, you've not done anything wrong, but I wanted to talk to you alone before the team meeting," the older man re-assured, reading Spencer's demeanour, "The Director came to see me this morning to tell me that after we had left for our leave, Gideon had gone to see him. They had a long talk but the upshot is that Gideon has taken early retirement. He only had another year to go anyway, but we all know he has been having a difficult time recently."
Reid listened carefully, the words came as no surprise, but he was concerned about his mentor.
"Did he say what he was going to do?"
"Stephen had been to see him that weekend you were working on the Smith case. Stephen has taken a position at McGill and is trying to find a more permanent place to live in Montreal. He asked his Dad to join him and help him find a new home."
Spencer nodded in understanding; since Gideon had re-established his relationship with his son, he had begun to step back from Reid. He understood all of this, and in fact felt that it was a far healthier work relationship not to be a substitute son. Reid had always managed to find someone to look up to as a father figure after his own father had left. However, he also knew no one could match the relationship he had had with his real father, and was thankful that it was now once more a pleasure in both their lives.
"I'm glad Stephen is going to be keeping an eye on Gideon and that he has a specific task to occupy him. I'm sure that he will enjoy Montreal, the Canadian wildlife is fantastic. He'll enjoy the bird life," said Spencer, but privately he hoped that Stephen had been honest with his father about his real reasons for moving to Montreal, where Joe was already working. Joe was a nice guy, but he and Stephen had kept their relationship very discreet. Stephen was afraid that Gideon would not accept that his only child was not going to have the family Gideon would have liked. Spencer had known Joe from his Princeton days, but when Joe heard about his move to the BAU, he had begged Spencer not to say anything to Stephen's father. Spencer had kept his promise. Over the years, he wondered if Gideon's estrangement with Stephen was caused by the fact that his only child was a homosexual.
"I didn't realise that you knew Canada?" enquired Hotch; there was quite a lot he didn't know about Spencer Reid.
"I went to a couple of conferences in Canada; one was at McGill, it's a nice friendly place, and there is lots to do in Canada. I think sometimes we Americans believe that we are the centre of the world, but Canada has a lot of culture too."
Hotch smiled, he knew that Reid would understand Gideon's actions especially choosing to slip away without any fuss.
The young man's higher pitched voice broke into his thoughts, "So he cleared his room ready for his replacement last week?"
"Yes, but he left two letters, one for me and the other for you, with the Director. I thought you would prefer that it was not known and I'll leave you here alone to read it before the meeting. I don't know what is in it, mine was personal but I do know how to contact him if need be. He thought a lot of you, Spencer, and he was so proud that you caught David Smith. I think it made it easier for him because you are now a respected member of the team in your own right." Hotch confided.
"Yes, it's all right Hotch, I think he has made the best decision for himself and the team,"
Hotch nodded and rose, he went to his desk and picked up a plain white envelope, in a scrawling hand was written his name in black ink, not in biro or felt tip, but with an old fashioned nibbed pen. Hotch walked over to Reid and handed the sealed envelope to him.
"You can stay here until the meeting, "Hotch said and quietly left, closing the office door behind him.
Hotch walked into the conference room at 9:15 precisely. The team had all assembled, each he noticed, with a mug of coffee and eager faces, even Reid, although Hotch felt sure that Reid had not said a word about Gideon to the others.
"Thank you for all being prompt. I wanted the team to hear this news first before a general statement is released at midday," said Hotch, watching with satisfaction as they sat up. Morgan and Emily particularly looked both perplexed yet alert at his words.
"The Director came to see me this morning to tell me that Gideon has taken early retirement and has already cleared his office. We are going to have a temporary placement until another senior profiler is appointed to the team. At the moment it has not been decided who is to replace Gideon. However, the Director has managed to persuade a very experienced psychologist and profiler from the Northwest division to temporarily fill the vacancy. He has already moved his things into the office and will be here at 10:00 to meet everyone," Hotch scanned the wide-eyed faces as he spoke, even Reid played his part, not letting on about their previous conversation.
Hotch continued, " Charles Hilton, likes to be called Hilton, even his wife calls him Hilton!" Hotch couldn't stop the smile that tweaked at his mouth as he wondered how Quantico would cope with Betsy Hilton.
"You know this guy?" interrupted Morgan, eager to build a picture before he entered the team dynamics.
"Yes, Hilton is a very good psych, he was a fighter pilot in the air force and is dreadful to fly with…he's a back seat pilot and you have to keep him out of the cockpit. He has been happily married for over 30 years, has 3 daughters the youngest is studying at George Town, and the eldest is married with children and lives in Westchester, New York. The middle one is studying medicine at John Hopkins; so I'm sure you can understand that his wife is going to take this opportunity to visit their daughters.
I worked a few cases with him when I was at the Seattle office. He's very good, but very different to Gideon. He and I share the same dress sense," he said as he looked at Morgan and Reid. "He does a lot of the psych evaluations for candidates up before the promotions board in the Northwest and he is very good at interviewing suspects. Hilton doesn't like travelling to far from home because he values his family life, so this really is a favour for the Director. I expect that he will be with us for a couple of months or so. Any questions?" Hotch said as he scanned the table of faces.
"Is Gideon OK, I mean he left really quietly and he's not been himself since the Breitkopf case?"
asked the caring J.J.
"He has gone to join his son in Canada; he's going to be OK," assured Hotch, gratified that J.J. had spoken for them all.
Hotch waited a few more seconds but there were no signs of any other comments, "Then that's all; get back to the usual workload of profiles and I'll come round with Hilton and introduce him to you individually later."
The group got up and went quietly to their workstations, each wrapped in their own memories of the former senior profiler. However, at that moment none of them wanted to express them or their own opinions of his departure. Morgan glanced at Reid as he set about his work; he didn't seem too surprised or upset by the news and wondered if Gideon had been in contact with him during the previous week. Morgan was still trying to get his head round the fact that Reid had married. Morgan was beginning to realise that the youngest of them had a completely secretive life outside the BAU and one that was obviously firmly inter-woven with his wife's family.
Morgan smiled at the memory of the photographs that had recorded such a happy and close knit family event. He was pleased that the kid was obviously seeing his Dad but it was strange he had never before mentioned him. Then there was the Director who also knew Reid's father. It had been a weird morning so far. Morgan had noticed Emily giving Reid furtive looks since the Director had spoken to him this morning. He shook his head and tried to concentrate upon the file before him.
Hilton had slipped quietly into Hotch's office just before 10 a.m. He had a brief chat with Hotch before Hotch took him around the department and introduced him to all the staff. Over coffee and lunch most of the staff expressed a uniform belief that Hilton came across as very even-tempered and friendly. For the team, the introduction was also a time when Hilton told them individually when he would speak to them in his office that afternoon.
During the lunch hour, the team had assembled in nearby café for a chat before the afternoon encounters.
"Well, what do you think, Morgan?" asked Emily who was feeling very unsettled by the morning's events, "I mean is it the norm for the incoming senior to interview us individually?" she clarified.
"When Hotch took over he did, it was just a friendly chat, you know trying to put some flesh of individuality on the basic info in our personal files," replied Morgan, attacking his steak with side salad.
"He seemed quite nice," said J.J. evenly, but she was puzzled by the hint of apprehension in Emily.
"How about you Spencer, you've been very quiet about Gideon's going, are you blaming yourself?" probed Emily, looking hard at Reid.
Reid finished chewing on his mouthful of salad, giving himself a little more time to consider a reply. He was aware of the unspoken belief, within the department, that his success in capturing David Smith had forced Gideon out, or that the upper echelons had used it as an excuse to get rid of the older man.
"I think that Gideon has made the best decision for himself because he was very upset after Sarah's death and it was affecting his work. Going to be with his son is the most sensible thing for him, because he has been suffering with depression for some time, and the work was just taking too much of a toll. Frank Breitkopf was the final straw; it was just a matter of time before he retired. I'm sure that he felt that leaving while the BAU was basking in the light of a successful case was the ideal time," he replied thoughtfully.
J.J. smiled re-assuringly at him, but Emily still pressed on, "What about his replacement?"
Spencer shrugged non-committally, "Seemed all right, but I'll wait to pass judgement until after I've seen him this afternoon."
At 2 p.m. J.J. went to see Hilton. It seemed strange to enter the once familiar office but now it had all been changed round. J.J. couldn't stop herself from glancing towards the cupboard top that had once held Gideon's treasured photograph display of his successes. It had been replaced by a coffee maker, mini fridge and a stack of wide brimmed cobalt blue stoneware cups and saucers.
"Help yourself to coffee," Hilton said as he sat in the easy chair, placing his own coffee on the low table before him.
"Thanks," J.J. appreciated the few extra minutes to acclimatise to the changes. When ready she joined him, sitting in the other chair, positioned opposite the new man.
He watched her with friendly hazel eyes, he had a tanned clean shaven face, his iron grey hair had a short cut; he reminded her of her ex-army uncle in the preciseness about his appearance which was mirrored in his smart charcoal suit. He wore a plain white shirt and navy tie; he was undoubtedly every inch the public's idea of a clean cut F.B.I. man.
"So, what did you do with your leave?"
J.J. smiled automatically and preceded to tell him about decorating which lead into discussing her relationship with Simon. Suddenly, she found herself talking about what had happened in the Henkel case. The conversation flowed easily and her 40 minutes passed quickly and she felt the whole experience had been quite pleasant because Hilton had also talked a little about his family.
Penelope Garcia was next; she was very apprehensive remembering her early experiences with Jason Gideon. Hilton let her settle in the chair like J.J. and began in a very unexpected way.
"I'm going to admit that computers are not my expertise so long as you provide the information I need quickly and accurately then we'll get along just fine."
Garcia beamed at him; she knew that she was the best.
"How are you feeling after all this traumatic year for the team?" Hilton asked in a gentle voice as he searched her face for the truth.
Garcia was hesitant at first, people in the department tended to take her role for granted but she did care, in fact she cared deeply about everyone in the BAU: she was naturally a mother hen.
Garcia found that her words were no longer hidden among pet names and sugary terms, she spoke plainly to this gentle man before her. She talked about how her little room was full of colour because of the darkness of the information and images that she dealt with. Garcia couldn't quite remember how she had got on to the topic of her Neville, but she found herself pouring out details of the things they did together.
"I am so pleased that you have someone to appreciate your loving nature," Hilton said smiling at this ebullient woman before him, "And your Mom and Stepfather have met him?"
"Oh yeah, he gets on really well with my family. He and my Dad, I call my Stepfather Dad because he's been more of a Dad than my biological one," Hilton nodded in understanding, "anyway, Nev and Dad are speed chess fanatics…the winner buys the beers!"
"Do you still have counselling?" the man gently asked.
"No, I'm fine now. I've got a good new Dad and he's been great to me right from the start and treats me the same as my half brothers."
"Good, your Mom was very sensible and got you both out of that home and prosecuted the bastard."
"Yeah, so many women don't believe their kids when it happens, but after I plucked up the courage to tell her, my Mom was fantastic and did all she could for me. I counsel other abuse survivors once a week. I really feel blessed that Mom found someone else who loves her and respects me. My Dad even asked the child psychologists how best to handle the situation with me, what more could I have asked for after what my real father had done."
"I'm delighted to hear that your are able to help others, and that you have such a warm and loving family life now," said Hilton, he thought that Hotch had a little gem in this caring and loyal woman.
Emily stretched out her long legs to ease the tension she felt as she sat in the easy chair opposite this inscrutable man. She had been unable to concentrate on her work since their initial introduction and now she wanted to be anywhere but in this office.
"Well Emily," he mildly began, "how do you like working for the BAU?"
"It's very hard work but it is very satisfying,"
"So you have no regrets?" he pressed.
"No, why should I… I knew it was not an easy placement,"
"So who is pulling your strings, Emily, because you were put in this department when there were far more experienced and deserving agents above you?" he softly probed, watching her with steady eyes.
Emily was speechless, she had not expected such a direct question and she was unsure how to answer even if she could find her voice. Unusually for Emily Prentiss her air of confidence had vanished leaving her exposed in a very weak position. She felt the palms of her hands moisten and had to consciously breathe evenly as she felt her heart quicken.
"I was not aware that I had pulled any strings or…"
"Come now, even I heard up in North Dakota that you wanted the BAU. You were talking to all the people you thought could influence the selection. Now tell me is having this position worth all that effort because those sort of people usually expect payback sooner or later?"
Emily felt the pressure but she was going to fight to keep what she thought was rightfully hers, "Are you implying that I have not pulled my weight with this team in any way?" she challenged.
"No, I'm saying that you used unfair methods to get here and usually that has a price tag, I want to know that every member of this team is loyally behind its senior agents because I expect 100 per cent trust. If I find that you can't be trusted I will let it be known in wider circles than your parents socialise in, so watch your step. That's all, Prentiss, please go and send in Morgan."
Emily Prentiss rose feeling very shaky as she left the room; she tried to compose herself as she made her way to the lower level.
"Your turn, Morgan," she said as normally as she could but her voice sounded strained even to her own ears.
"Hey, you OK?" Morgan asked with concern. He wondered what had happened in that room for the normally cool and confident Emily to look so pale and shaken.
"Yeah, sure, I need the ladies room," and turned away quickly to escape the scrutiny of her colleagues.
"You see that, Reid?"
"Yeah, you'd better go, you know that these ex-forces types don't like to be kept waiting," said Reid, he didn't want to share his thoughts about Emily with Morgan. He remembered how he'd told Hotch that she worked hard, but he'd not liked how she had just appeared, and there was something that didn't feel right about today.
Morgan bounded into the room; like the others before, he got his own coffee and sank into the chair opposite Hilton.
"What did you say to Emily…she looked upset," he boldly stated.
"What is said in this room is private between me and the person sitting in that chair," Hilton firmly replied. Morgan felt he had crossed an invisible line of acceptable behaviour. There was something about this tiny dapper man that commanded respect and right now Morgan was the sullen teenager before the School Principal. Hilton calmly eyed him, letting him regain his temper and with it hopefully his good sense.
"So," Hilton finally said, "What do you do in your spare time?"
"I work out regularly in the gym, I walk my dog, I like to socialise…" he put on his best charming smile, but Hilton merely raised a black eyebrow quizzically.
"Any stable relationship?"
"Well, you know how it is with the job," Morgan replied, still trying to keep his charm into play.
"All too well. The most stable agents are the ones who seek out a stable partner, and then work hard at it, so they have some normality of a home life outside the stress of the job," Hilton countered. The psychologist saw that a flash of anger appeared momentarily in the man's dark eyes and his jaw set ready to defend himself.
"Look, I go to places to try and find a partner. I'm a social guy; I like parties and bars and dancing, I play tennis and I swim. Even if I meet a nice woman the demands of this place breaks it."
"Other agents manage it," Hilton replied, "some even manage to have children, now that really gives you something outside the job. Perhaps you're not looking in the right place?"
Morgan felt very small under the scrutiny. Suddenly, Hilton changed tack, "What's all that on your belt…makes you look like Batman. My grandson's got a belt like that with his Batman costume."
Morgan felt embarrassment flood through him, he hadn't felt so belittled in years.
"You're a profiler, get rid of it or transfer out," Hilton commanded in a tone that allowed for no argument, "I want to see you in a shirt and tie tomorrow, none of this tee shirt or clingy jumper rubbish. You're 36, start to dress and act like it."
"Is there anything else?" Morgan asked, wondering if he could hold his temper in before he got busted for hitting a senior agent.
"Yes," said Hilton calmly, " I have noticed in your personal file that Hotch has had to speak to you on numerous occasions about your teasing of Reid which borders on bullying. Let's get this clear shall we, I will not tolerate such behaviour on my watch. You are not a college jock so stop it or get out, this is the F.B.I. not a Fraternity House." Morgan couldn't believe what had just been said but he realised that with this man he had to sharpen up his act or he'd loose the position he enjoyed.
"That's all, Morgan, send in Reid would you."
Morgan removed himself from the humiliation of the room as fast as he could, but as he made his way back to his desk he thought that the resident genius was probably in for an uncomfortable time himself. There was his hair for a start and his dress sense was definitely individual, he was comforted by the thought that Reid was probably going to get as much of a shock as he had experienced.
"Your turn," he grinned to Reid, hoping that he had not given any thing away of his dressing down.
Reid got up and walked up the steps to the senior psych's room. He didn't know what had been happening but J.J. and Garcia had returned quite happily from their interviews, whereas Emily and Morgan were tense and in Emily's case, definitely worried.
Reid entered the room in his usual diffident way; he scanned the room like the previous interviewees.
"Help yourself to coffee," Hilton said gesturing to the coffee maker.
"Thanks, I probably drink far too much, the medical orderlies who do my drug tests say they have bets on the caffeine levels," said Reid conversationally, as he poured a cup and then loaded it with at least 3 spoonfuls of sugar before sitting down.
"Are you getting annoyed with all the extra tests?" Hilton asked, pleased that this young man had the confidence to raise the issue first.
"It's just the rules and you know how sensitive the Bureau is over drugs. I'd not willing take drugs but I have to prove that I'm now totally clean. Hotch is very sensitive to the extra testing, he always seems to send me on an errand so the rest of the department don't have to know."
"Would you mind if they did?"
"Look it's the rules, everyone here knows I was kidnapped and tortured, some may know that I was drugged. Actually no one outside the team has ever asked me about that time and I have not openly spoken about it within the department. When I first returned to work, everyone was watching me. It made me feel even more anxious about my position and if I could still do my job. I wasn't the easiest person when I returned; I snapped at Emily a few times but we're OK now."
"So you feel you've come through the Post Traumatic Stress?" Hilton pressed gently, beginning to get a measure of the genius he'd heard so much about.
"I'd be a fool if I thought I had," Spencer replied, "I still have the odd flash back; they are totally unpredictable. But I'm sleeping better, eating normally now and I believe I'm more like my old self…I mean more even tempered, do you understand?" asked Reid wanting to know that this new man, however temporary, understood that he was well on the mend.
Hilton nodded, "Yes, I do, I've been there. I was shot down on a secret mission and tortured. I still get the odd nightmare 30 years on and if I'm in a plane during a thunderstorm…lets just say that I need distracting. I was shot down in a thunderstorm and I tend to get very unsettled. I can feel a rising panic: pulse starts to race, I can perspire buckets while colleagues try to distract me with chess or cards. You have to have been under such extreme duress to understand that no matter how happily normal we have made our lives since: memory is a bitch in these matters."
Reid nodded with understanding and felt that Hilton had suddenly become more human rather than just a name with a considerable reputation.
"How do you feel about your mentor's departure?"
Reid had been expecting this question, he sat quietly for a few moments wondering about all the glances the BAU had been sending his way since the announcement. Hilton watched quietly assessing him, he was far more interesting that the personal assessments of Gideon or Hotch and Arthur, his chosen psych., all put together.
"I told Hotch some months ago now, that I thought Gideon was slipping, you know, he was never quite the same after the Boston bombings. He threw himself into every case but sometimes he didn't pick up on the things that were sometimes going on in the group dynamics, especially after the Randall Garner case. I felt at times he was battling with his own demons, which were dragging him into depression, but I could have got it all wrong, after all I'm not a senior psych." explained Reid and wondered if he had said too much and sounded disloyal towards Gideon.
Hilton merely nodded sagely before saying, "Hotch told me that you picked up on Elle but she didn't respond to your approach,"
"Yeah, you know the team sees me as the kid, Elle was no different."
"Of course they do, because you let them," countered the older man, "You were 21, a genius with 3 PhDs, with a high intelligence quotient, it's probably off the scale because you're a polymath who deliberately underachieved in intelligence tests to make your life a little easier. You are also a sensitive, which is why you are good at this work. As an empathetic person, you use that skill to think yourself into the mind of the unsub and the victim. However, you use that skill every day to also make people feel comfortable around you, because you are genuinely modest about your natural abilities and you don't want to lord it over anyone. You are a shy person, so you played up that role and even perfected the occasional nervous stutter in the early years. Your youthful looks were very useful, so you emphasised this boyishness in your dress and the schoolboy haircuts. Gradually, as people got used to you, your dress has become more appropriate to you age and your hair has got longer. Perhaps a little too long," Hilton said firmly but Reid didn't react, he just listened to this man's observations.
"I must say that you really are an accomplished actor, you fooled Gideon a lot of the time,"
"Gideon saw what he wanted to see," Spencer interjected, "He was estranged from his own son, so I became a substitute until he re-established his relationship with Stephen. Then he stepped back and it became a more normal work relationship; I was given more tasks with other team members."
"You didn't mind his withdrawal?"
"Of course not. I think I actually helped him, particularly after the first depressive break. It helped him get back into the team to still have the boy wonder to mentor. I have always managed during my growing up to find mentors to make up for the physical absence of my own father. They all seemed to have enjoyed the experience of helping me at specific points in my career, but I've outgrown that now. I've actually re-established my relationship with my own father since the Henkel case. Gideon told me that my Dad had contacted him to see that I was OK and he passed on his number in case I wanted to pursue it further."
"Good, what does he do?" Hilton was fascinated by this man and how he had managed to manipulate people into the mentoring role.
"He's never specifically said, I was told that he is a cryptographer for government security,"
Hilton looked into the large puppy dog eyes; he had seen no deception in this agent since he had entered the room. Hilton had seen those eyes before and he was wise enough not to probe any further. He chose to change the subject.
"Hotch tells me that you have married Catherine Fox,"
Spencer beamed his naturally radiant smile, "Yeah, we've known each other for 2 years and she was there for me over the PTSD."
Hilton smiled broadly in return, "I was trained by her father, interned with him at St. Peter's in Helena, Montana… you would have liked him, Catherine's supposed to be the most like him."
"So you know Catherine?"
"I know her eldest brother, Charles, best because he works at the same hospital in Montana. I did meet Catherine, but that was before she left to study in England…she must have been around 18. She reminded me of her mother's family, the Lindstroms. You met any of the Aunts?"
"Yeah, we spent a few days up in Helena, after we married, to meet the rest of the family," Reid said with a smile, remembering the assortment of very strong characters; the Lindstrom Aunts were all unmarried and a little eccentric but very friendly.
"Never thought Bernard Fox would marry a Lindstrom, he'd been a widower with those 3 sons for 8 years before he started dating Elise…but they seemed happy enough," Hilton confided and seemed lost in thought for a few seconds before continuing,
"Well Hotch thinks highly of Catherine and her affect on you, so don't screw up!" Hilton said.
"No intentions of deliberately doing so. I know what an anchor I go home to," defended Reid.
"Good because there are going to be some changes round here and you're going to stop coasting," Hilton firmly but quietly said. Reid felt his world shift and wobble; he'd been keeping his head down working quietly since arriving at Quantico, but Hilton had rumbled him.
"I don't care what Gideon allowed you to get away with so that you could fit into the team without upsetting the dynamics. You're a genius. Hotch and I need you working up to speed, not taking a backseat. Forget about upsetting the egos of other team members. You're brilliant: you have just caught the serial killer, David Smith. Shelve the excessive modesty, we need the mind that got Smith working at full strength in the team. I want you walking in step with me, not two steps behind in deference. I'm not afraid to work alongside a genius, in fact, it's an honour that we have you in this department and we should be using you properly.
You are 26, not a teenager, I want to see you acting your age and in accordance to your true ability. I don't mind you doing your diffident act to get information or a confession but Hotch and I expect to see the experienced and gifted profiler that you are. You can start by dressing for that role, and forget about upsetting your colleagues; if they can't cope with your true abilities then we don't want them here. Our work is far more important than their fragile egos. In a few years time you will be in my place; you are going to have to assess people who are older than you, so start by showing them that you are worthy of their trust in your ability."
Reid breathed out slowly, Hilton had seen right through his act but every thing he had said was the truth. Coasting had brought a certain acceptance but not a real respect for his true ability.
"Go on, I've said enough for now,"
Spencer Reid rose quietly and opened the door to leave, as he walked out Hilton shouted after him, "And get your hair cut,"
Reid turned in a flash and shouted back, "It's within regulation length, if you've a problem with it take it up with Catherine because she's my hairdresser," The bullpen was momentarily stunned by the interchange. Hotch had been talking to Morgan at the time. Morgan couldn't believe that the normally quiet Reid had shot back a reply to the demanding Hilton. The assembled work force was expecting Hilton to respond with a caution for insubordination, but they were surprised to hear hearty laughter coming from the office.
Reid drew himself up to his full height, and walked back to his desk with the air of confidence that Hotch had come to know outside the work place.
"Jeez," said Morgan softly, to Hotch, "what the hell happened in there?"
"Oh, I think Hilton's told Reid to act his age," he replied, and gave the young agent a slight nod of amused encouragement as they passed at the bottom of the stairs. By the top of the steps, Hotch heard Reid's voice in a commanding no nonsense tone take control of the situation by his desk.
"Morgan, I know I had only two files before going to see Hilton, I'm not doing your work because you've been flirting with the new clerical assistant. I've got a wife to go home to and I'm leaving here as soon as I've finished my two profiles,"
Hotch paused to see how Morgan would react but the older agent took the rebuke meekly. Hotch also heard the senior clerical assistant, Jodie, mutter, "He deserved that," and several other agents smiled into their work. The Unit Chief thought that having Hilton around for a few weeks was going to be interesting, but at least he trusted him at his back.
Two hours later in an exclusive club in Washington, the Director of the F.B.I. made his way towards a comfortable looking high backed leather chair. He joined another man, in a similar chair, who was drinking coffee as he read the 'Washington Post'.
The Director ordered his own coffee from the discreet waiter as he sat down. Once he was sure that they could not be overheard he said, "Sorry I'm late, Will, do you have any thing?"
The tall thin man with familiar brown eyes took a sip of his coffee before casually replying,
"There has been a lot of traffic between Strauss and Prentiss. Prentiss could be pulled down with her,"
"Do you think Prentiss knows what Strauss is involved in?"
"No, but she might get tainted by association," Will said softly.
"Well, Helen wanted us to go to the Hamptons…" said the Director smoothly, as his coffee arrived. No one in the room thought there was anything unusual in two old friends having a drink of coffee together, before travelling to their respective homes.