A/N: Sorry chapter two took so long, but fret not, it's not nearly as long as chapter one was. I'd really appreciate your feedback and a massive thanks to those who have reviewed or alerted this story already! So enjoy the chapter and hit the little review button at the bottom, please? Thanks! Kat xo
Disclaimer: See chapter one.
White Flag.
"All of our reasoning ends in surrender to feeling." - Blaise Pascal
Sloane unconsciously pulled her denim jacket around her slender frame and folded her arms, looking the man up and down. It was most definitely Derek Morgan. She hadn't set eyes on him for a little over ten years but he hadn't changed much, gotten a little older, but hadn't everyone? Sloane watched as Derek shut down, his emotionless mask replacing the brief look of hurt and confusion that had passed across his beautiful features. She didn't know what to say, too much time had passed for an apology, but not enough time had passed to brush over it. Sarcasm probably wouldn't work here, either. Sloane was acutely aware of the other six sets of eyes on them, knowing she definitely had to say something, acknowledge the elephant that had taken up residence in the room, state the obvious or it would get more than ugly.
"It's been a while." Sloane swallowed hard, the words catching in her throat and tripping off of her tongue, her whole body a little too warm; guilt and embarrassment bubbling under her skin but she still suppressed a shiver at the cold glare Derek fixed her with.
"Yeah," was all he said in return, taking a drink of his coffee, still staring her down. Sloane couldn't seem to think of anything else to say now. She'd thought about this moment for years, about meeting Derek Morgan again and how things would go down. She had speeches and scenarios planned wherein everything was forgiven, but this, this wasn't one of them and Sloane didn't know how to handle it. Sloane hadn't come up with what she would say or do if she had met him on a case, if she randomly had bumped into him at work or in the office. She didn't even know he was in the FBI, sure she knew he was capable, but that didn't mean that she ever thought he would. Sloane felt the bite of her engagement, wedding and trilogy ring-set cutting into her finger from where it was tucked against her arm. She should probably move her arm before pins and needles set in, but those would be a welcome pain, something to distract her from the pain she was currently in. She'd never meant to hurt him and this was not the time and place to be bringing that up. Not when she was supposed to be working with him to bring in a serial killer with a penchant for burning her victims alive.
"You look good." The words seemed to surprise everyone else in the room judging by the raised eyebrows and everyone making the conscious effort not to look at the speaker. A speaker who seemed especially surprised and Sloane's eyes snapped to Derek's dark orbs. It was a White flag of sorts, he was smoothing things over for her, fixing things as he always had. Sloane felt like she'd been punched in the gut and desperately wanted to hurl.
"You too." She offered him a small smile, "Still doing judo?" It was small talk but at least they were talking. At least they'd moved away from the palpable tension in the room that was eating away at the oxygen and had turned it down to something that was merely an uncomfortable pressure. Something that wouldn't make working with this team, his team, too difficult. Sloane knew what it was like working on a team that worked as closely as they did. Her team in Boston were the same with her, overprotective, even going so far as to avoid talking to her husband if he and Sloane had ever had a fight.
"Yeah, and some other stuff too." Derek's voice wasn't as cold as before, but it was still even, still unforgiving, still not giving anything away. Sloane could accept that, it was more than she deserved, but nothing less than she had expected from Derek.
"You've moved up in the world, Supervisory Special Agent and a BAU profiler?" Sloane asked, a small smiling playing on her lips. She knew there was a serial killer out there who needed to be stopped but right now her soul focus was smoothing things over a little bit between her and Derek.
"Yeah, ten years is a long time, Sloane. What's your status?" Derek's tone changed from even to passive-aggressive and back again and Sloane knew she would have to tread softly.
"Special Agent-in-charge. I work with the HRT and the SVU." Sloane had carefully selected her words, she had a higher rank than him and she didn't want him to think she was rubbing it in, she wasn't gloating, she'd just worked hard and been the over achiever they both knew she was. Sloane was also well aware he probably meant her marital status, too, but she wasn't willing to go into detail yet - he obviously knew she was married, her last name giving it away but they had a case to work and she knew she had to get out of there.
"Sounds like you've been working hard." Derek gave her a small smile, draining the last of the coffee out of his cup and walking over to put it in the trash can. Sloane let out the breath she didn't realise she'd been holding, subconsciously noticing that the rest of the room did the same.
"Yeah, you have been too, clearly." Sloane kept her tone light, she kept the small smile on her face. Derek may have given her an inch but she knew better than to take the mile, she always had known. It was a fact of life with an Alpha Male like him; he had all the strengths and capabilities but he also had such a vulnerable streak you had to know how to handle him. Baby steps.
"Speaking of work…" Rossi interrupted, looking from Sloane to Morgan and back again. "I don't mean to interrupt but we are on a tight timeline here."
"Of course." Sloane nodded, her hands slipping into her pockets as she turned to look at Prentiss. "I'm ready when you are." She gave the other women a bright smile, trying not to make a bigger fool of herself than she already had when Emily gave her a warm smile in return, indicating for her to take the lead.
Derek remained silent as she walked passed him and Sloane swallowed hard, old feelings bubbling to the surface. He still held himself the way he did all those years ago, he still smelled the same, he was still him and that gave Sloane the biggest comfort; even when the world was going crazy around her, Derek Morgan was still Derek Morgan.
Sloane rolled her eyes when Mercer glared at her as she passed, heading towards the parking lot, only slowing slightly when Prentiss moved away to get a police officer to go with them. It was then that it struck her; the realisation that Derek hadn't changed meant that the wounds were internal; the scars weren't on the armour that he used to protect himself, the wounds were deep and that made her whole body hurt. Hurting him was the last thing that Sloane wanted but her fight or flight response had kicked in and she was too weak to fight. The other thing that hit her, too, was the butterflies. The weak in the knees feeling that he always made her feel and that was a problem in itself. A very big problem.
The cool air hit her face as she stepped out into the parking lot, the door closing behind her as Sloane took a moment to just breathe. Today was not going as planned as it was; she needed to get her head in the game and into this case, everything else could wait. Her cell vibrated in her pocket, her belongings having been returned to her while they were moving boxes. Sloane looked at the caller ID and let out a sigh.
"Lucas." She did her best not to sound tired down the receiver, this day couldn't really get worse.
"Sloane, Bob called. He said you'd been arrested, I'll give Carl a call, tell him to come down and meet with you, don't worry, we'll get you out of this." Lucas rushed through the sentence before Sloane could even get a word in edgeways.
"It was a misunderstanding, Lucas, I'm helping them with the case. There's no need to have Carl drive up here, I'm fine." Sloane tried to convince herself that Lucas was calling because he cared and he loved her and he was doing what every husband would do in this situation; but she couldn't help but feel that same void of doubt over his motives. She couldn't help but listen to that little voice in her head telling her that it was his need to flex his muscles, his need to be the hero all the time that was driving this thing.
"Well, I'll send Carl up and you can sue them for Wrongful Arrest."
"Lucas-"
"They need to learn, Sloane, that you can't just do that to people. You can't just barge into places and arrest people for nothing."
"Lucas." Sloane tried to interrupt again, but she knew it was no use, when Lucas got an idea into his head it was hard to dislodge. Not unlike Derek, the little voice reminded Sloane and she caught herself smiling before she had the chance to stop herself. At least he would give up when Sloane said no. At least Derek did things out of want to protect her and not out of trying to gain anything else from the situation. At least he knew that no meant no.
"I mean who does Mercer think he is? He's a pompous imbecile who should be-" Sloane snapped out of it when she realised she was letting Lucas gather steam on his argument.
"Lucas would you shut up and listen to me for one goddamned minute? God." Sloane grit out, pinching the bridge of her nose as she paced back and forth. She knew Lucas wouldn't be used to her speaking to him like that, she was usually so calm and collected and prim and proper for him. His perfect little trophy wife. "I'm fine. I'm working. I'll be home when I can. I'll call Sykes and let him know I'll be working here on this case as per Mercer's request. I'll call you later."
"I don't know where you get off on talking to me like that, Sloane." Lucas stated, anger colouring his voice. "But I think you should have a good think about that and call me when you're ready to apologise."
"I'll see you when I get back." Sloane told him before clicking the cell closed. She didn't know why she was being so bold towards Lucas, where the sudden feistiness had come back into her from and she knew he wouldn't like it. Not like… The sound of the door opening caused Sloane to shove the cell into her pocket and take a deep breath, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind.
"You okay?" Prentiss asked, a gentle hand on her elbow.
"Yeah, I'm good. We ready to go?" Sloane smiled at Prentiss, masking the shock at the level of welcoming the darker brunette was still extending to her, despite the obvious history with Derek.
"Yeah. Do you know what we're looking for?" Prentiss asked, only a slight hint of doubt in her voice as they walked down the stairs behind the officer.
"I'm used to profiling under pressure so I'm pretty confident I'll be able to work out when something doesn't fit or fits too well with this case." Sloane joked, noticing the slight smirk on Emily's face. "But you knew that, you're just trying to find out how I got to where I am to see if you can piece together how I know Morgan."
"You're good." Prentiss laughed as she opened the door to the police cruiser, turning to look at Sloane. "You've probably had enough of riding in the back of one of these for today, huh?"
"Just keep your handcuffs where I can see them and I'll be fine." Sloane opened the back door and slipped into the car, trying to fight the smile off of her face when the dark haired agent laughed again as she got into the car. Sloane caught movement out of the corner of her eye, Agent Hotchner leaving the station along with Derek, her stomach flip flopping when he caught her eye. Her lips quirked in a small smile that he didn't return, simply looked away and followed Hotchner down the steps. Sloane didn't react to the sympathetic smile she got from Emily in the rear view mirror, swallowing the disappointment as she watched Morgan and Hotchner walk to he black SUV sitting in the lot.
It was then that it was clear; this case wouldn't be about Sloane and Derek and fixing things. During this case he would be SSA Morgan and they'd be working together to bring down an unsub.
Morgan watched as the police cruiser left the parking lot and turned right, tossing the keys to the SUV from hand to hand. When he had gotten up that morning; he'd asked the question that most people do when life keeps throwing shit at them; could things get any worse? Apparently someone hadn't got the memo that said it was a rhetorical question. Derek had just been getting his sleeping pattern somewhat back on track, been managing to call home at least 3 times a week, too. He'd even got back into working out, his routine was almost on track and now this?
Morgan sighed as he walked over to the car, pointedly ignoring the look that Hotch was giving him. He never was one for dramatics, wanting nothing more than to bury this like everything else, but he knew he wouldn't get the chance to bury this for long before Garcia or Reid or Prentiss would try to get information from him. Information he wasn't willing give out. Information that had been filed away under 'never to go back to' ten long years ago . Some things from the past should stay there.
"You know." Hotch stared as soon as Morgan got into the car and Morgan sighed. Out of everyone, Hotch wasn't his first go to for butting in on his 'do not disturb' attitude when it came to emotions. "You could have told us that you knew Sanderson, would have saved Garcia a whole load of time and paper if you had." There was something in Hotch's tone that Morgan couldn't quite place, but he knew he didn't like it.
"I don't know Sanderson." Morgan replied, putting the SUV into reverse. He knew what he was doing here, he knew it wasn't exactly truthful and was pushing it, but it was partially true. He didn't know Sloane Sanderson, probably wouldn't have given the name a second thought had it appeared across his desk, but now he could put a face to it? Now he could put a face to it and shit had gotten real.
"You must be the most perceptive profiler ever to walk this earth. That or psychic. You both must be if that little showcase back at the station was anything to go by." Hotch's voice was even, giving nothing away as to if he was pissed off about the whole situation or he was about to offer Morgan as much personal time as he needed, Hotch simply looked between the windshield and the file on his lap that he hadn't let get out of his sight ever since Garcia had handed it over. He knew it was nothing to do with the case, he knew what was in the pages of that manila folder, but he hadn't wanted to call Hotch on it, nor Garcia, when he saw who Agent Sanderson was.
"I didn't say I hadn't met her before." Morgan looked from Hotch to the file and back out of the window as they pulled out of the parking lot, he knew he had to pick his words carefully. Hotch was someone he looked up to, one of the best, he would notice something was off and realise everything right off of the bat if Derek wasn't careful. "I don't know an Agent Sanderson, but I do know an Officer McCall. Now can we drop it?" Morgan knew Hotch wouldn't let it go so easily, he was always all over Derek's back about the trust issues that he had, not that Hotch would outright always say it to Morgan, but it was always implied.
"Sure." Hotch answered a little too quickly, causing Morgan to glance over to him again. "I have all I need to know here." He waved the file a little, holding the edge to open it before Morgan rested his hand on it, eyes flicking between the road, Hotch and the file. Something compelled him to keep the file shut, to make sure no-one knew what was inside. To protect the information from the others.
"Don't do this." Morgan said quietly into the car, it was scarily close to pleading and Morgan hated it, hated how she made him feel after all those years of pretending she hadn't even existed. "You can trust her. She was a good cop. Driven, determined, one hell of a shot. She's good." Morgan had hated it when they went through his life all of those years ago; dredging things up he didn't want them to know; pulling things out of the deep dark hiding places of his life that they didn't need to know. Morgan didn't want them snooping around in Sloane's life either, yes he wanted answers, but Garcia level of snoop isn't something that he wanted his team trawling through. Derek sighed when he thought of Garcia, she'd know all of this, everything that she'd dug up, she'd know.
"You don't know Agent Sanderson, you said it yourself." Hotch looked back at Morgan, openly staring at him, not hiding the fact that he was looking for any clues into how he was feeling, looking for the micro-signals that would help him work out what happened. Morgan knew Hotch would do that, use his own words against him to get to the truth. It was interrogation 101. His mother had been doing it for years and she didn't have a degree in criminology or psychology.
"Then call her Superior. There's no need to go through her life for one case. I don't see you going through all of the histories of the Detectives we work with." Morgan felt the anger bubbling and he knew he would have to reign himself in. Sloane didn't need him to protect her anymore, she clearly had that one down to a T, but something still felt off about the whole thing. It was like a reflex to protect her. Muscle memory that had caused him to feel physically sick the second he saw her.
"What did you think I was going to do?" Hotch asked and Morgan looked over at him, not bothering to mask the confusion, it seemed like a pretty stupid question to be asking at this point. It was pretty damn obvious what he was doing.
"You were going to read her file." Morgan deadpanned, wanting to see Hotch's reaction, but they'd just pulled into a busy street and taking his eyes off of the road wasn't something he was willing to do right now.
"I was getting this." Hotch opened the file and took out the cover sheet with the brief history of Sloane Sanderson's record of employment along with her picture, status, her position, department, her weapon and its ID number, her ID and social security numbers as well as her cell number and her Superior's name. Derek gave a quick sideward's glance and let out a huff of a breath.
"I don't check up on law officials if they don't fit the profile, Derek." Hotch's voice was weird again, as though he was genuinely not trying to test Morgan's patience just assess where his head was at with this.
"Well the fact that she's here means she doesn't fit the profile. Besides, I didn't realise we even had a profile." Morgan snapped as they approached a stop sign and let his head fall back against the seat. "I'm sorry." he sighed again, trying to ignore the hurt that was coursing through his veins and had been since he laid eyes on her in that conference room.
"Look, if this is going to cause issues, we'll pull her from the case. We just need an extra man until we can get the profile out and she's a viable source of information." Hotch offered, not taking his eyes off of Morgan as the other agent pulled away from the lights and checked the street names. Morgan was hyper aware of Hotch watching him; he knew he must have been giving off some sort of micro signals at this rate; if he couldn't control his temper or the fact his hands were sweating, he had little to no chance of controlling the little things.
"There are no issues. I'm fine and we need her. I'm just tired, the sooner we get this done the sooner I can sleep." Morgan was grateful when Hotch gave him a slight nod and took his cell out, dialling the Boston Field office's number.
Derek couldn't quite place if he didn't like the idea of them rummaging through Sloane's background because of something they would find out about him; or them rifling through her background because of something they would find out about her that he couldn't find. Morgan was proud of his skill set, proud of his ability to profile people and find them; but when Sloane left, he couldn't find her. Even if it was before both of their FBI days, it still bugged Derek the way she just seemed to vanish right out of Chicago and right off of the face of the earth.
He had always known that one day he would have to deal with this issue, that every time he was called out on a case there was a part of him who wondered if she would be there as part of the team they were helping. He never did question if she had stayed in law enforcement; he knew she'd transferred out but no-one would tell him where she'd transferred to. Part of Derek had always wished that he would run into her again; for closures sake but now that the chance was here; he didn't know if he wanted it. It wasn't anything like he'd planned.
In all of his plans for this moment Sloane never had a different last name. She was still Sloane McCall. She was still a brunette. She was still a cop. He let out a little snort at how different she actually was. She was a big bad FBI agent now, she'd lost a good few pounds, her hair was lighter and she was married to some guy. Morgan wondered about him. What he was like, what he looked like. What he did for a living. Was she happy. He had no idea where all of this was coming from; where the sudden urge to make sure that she was alright, safe and happy had suddenly come from after being long forgotten about in these past few years. How long had Sloane and her husband been married? How long had they even been together?
A pang of hurt hit him hard in his ribcage and he subconsciously checked to see if it was physical - because it certainly felt like it, perhaps Hotch had nudged him thinking he was too far gone in his thoughts but Hotch was still on the line with Sloane's superior, making baseball jokes and talking little league. It was then that Morgan caught his reflection in the rear view, his eyes were puffy and had bags under them, he really needed a good sleep, but he knew he wouldn't get it here. Not with so many problems at his door step wrapped up in a perfect 5ft 6" package. He needed to keep his game face on and practise what he preached; He didn't know Special Agent-in-Charge Sanderson, so he would have no trouble working with her at all.
Sloane let out a slight chuckle when she walked into Martha Carrier's apartment. I looked nothing like her first place did; there were family photographs and canvases all over the walls, drawings from younger relatives displayed on the fridge by magnetic letters. It was warm and inviting. It was home.
"What's so funny?" Prentiss' voice came from the living room where she had decided to check out first while Sloane had asked the neighbours some questions.
"Nothing, it just doesn't scream home-wrecker to me. It's too, homey." Sloane answered as she walked into the living room and pulled on a pair of gloves. "Anything in here?" She asked as she looked around the lemon walls, dotted with more family photographs and over to the bookshelf with all of the children's books on the lower shelves and the more adult themed book at the top.
"No. I was just thinking the same thing as you. She seems really family orientated. I just don't see her as the 'I'll sleep with your man' type. She doesn't have children, we know that but there is evidence of children in and out of here as frequently as adults."
"I'd never met Martha, only heard the other girls talking about her, but she does seem the settling down type and in my experience if a guy cheats with you? He's gonna cheat on you." Sloane gave a small smile.
"Well that's sound advice." Prentiss laughed as she opened the drawers at the coffee table.
"I'm gonna go check out the bedroom, see if there is anything in there that screams 'I'm a whore'." Sloane tilted her head to the side, indicating the doorway when Prentiss looked up. "unless you…?"
"No, go on. That's what you're here for, make things go faster." Prentiss gave Sloane another warm smile and Sloane returned it with a small nod as she wandered into the hallway smiling again at the photograph of Martha and what she could only assume were her parents. It was a posed photograph, but not a professionally taken one and Sloane had to force herself not to think of the devastation this would cause for her family. Martha was a good woman according to her neighbours and they hadn't seen many people visit the house; much less males and Martha kept mostly to herself.
Sloane walked into the bedroom and raised her eyebrows. It was plain in here, nothing incredibly personal aside from a few photographs, books and her laptop. Anyone could have been sleeping in here; it was a drastic change from the rest of the house. Keeping up appearances? Sloane wondered, knew how it felt to be scared of your own skin, to be strong on the surface but not all the way through. She looked around the room again; feeling the white walls closing in around her and she had to remember how to breathe; remind herself that just because Derek had jumped back into her life from ten years ago that nothing else would.
Sloane Sanderson wandered around the room, opening drawers and cupboards, looking for things that she could use to catch this killer and get the hell out of dodge. She didn't need Derek popping up right when her life was slowly getting back on track, but Sloane paused as she reached the desk in the room and looked around her again; she couldn't think of a time that would be better for him to strap on his shining armour and spring into her life. He was always there when things were the craziest they'd ever been, so why not now.
She tilted her head at the few books propped up on the desk before raising her eyebrows as she picked out one title in particular.
"Hey, Prentiss. I think I have something." Sloane called out as she examined the book, flicking through the pages and catching the photograph that was being used as a bookmark.
"What've you found?" Prentiss asked as she walked into the bedroom, clearly thinking the same thing Sloane had as she looked around the room.
"Aside from the fact our girl certainly had a lot of issues with herself? I mean she doesn't even have a mirror in here." Sloane looked around the room again, feeling more and more uncomfortable about the whole thing the longer she spent in here. She continued at Prentiss knowing shrug. "I found this."
"The Crucible." Prentiss raised her eyebrows and Sloane nodded.
"I'm thinking some kind of class or production is being put on." Sloane walked over to Prentiss, book and photo in hand. " This photo was at the beginning of act four. I was thinking we could take back the laptop and see if your technical analyst could do something with it?"
"If Garcia could do anything with it?" Prentiss laughed again and threw her arm around Sloane's shoulders as she led her out of the room before pulling our her cell. "I don't know what kind of Analysts you have in Boston, but there is absolutely no doubt about Garcia's ability to find anything out of place in that laptop."
"Right." Sloane grinned, reaching into the bag for an evidence wallet, more determined than ever to stick to protocol on this one, it would get back to the bureau about her run in with a blast from the past and her entire credulity as an Agent would go down the pan. She walked back into the bedroom and bagged the book, the laptop and the photograph, wondering if this Garcia woman was as good as Emily claimed. She'd obviously came in with Derek and was acting really shifty around Sloane when it became apparent that she and Derek knew one and other.
Sloane leaned back when Prentiss let out a rather loud "Really?" and she felt her face flush. She knew she was being stupid about this, she knew she was being paranoid, but she couldn't help it. Sloane felt like she was in High School all over again when her year group found out that she and Mikey Heston were dating, she had never lived down dating the school nerd. Looking back at the laptop Sloane felt a surge of jealousy towards this Garcia. She was pretty, Sloane had to admit, seemed really intelligent and she was exactly the kind of girl she'd pictured Derek; someone quirky but independent, strong but sweet. Someone who needed him as much as he would need them. Derek wasn't one to talk about his feelings, he was the typical 'actions speak louder than words." kind of guy, but when he needed someone to be there for him; he really needed them and Sloane couldn't help but think that Garcia was that girl for Morgan.
She thought of the other girls at the precinct back in Chicago, wondering what they're faces would be like if he walked through their doors at one of the reunions with Garcia on his arm. Garcia wasn't one of those conventionally beautiful women but Sloane could definitely see her appeal; she had that whole 30s glamour thing going on, even if she was unique. Sloane realised then that she was standing in the middle of a dead girl's bedroom, thinking about someone she used to know with someone she barely met and she was nearly crying about it.
Sloane pulled off her gloves and wiped her eyes just before Emily walked into the room.
"Get this; I called Hotch to tell him about the book and… are you alright?" Emily asked from the doorway, looking Sloane up and down.
"What? Yeah, yes. I'm fine." Sloane smiled, getting a handle on her emotions before she ended up crying. "I've had a long week and this weekend was supposed to be about relaxing, not getting arrested and snooping through people's things." Sloane joked, tucking her gloves into her pocket and moving to get a fresh set. "I just feel so sorry for those girls and their families, I've never really known a victim in something like this before." It wasn't exactly a lie, but then again, Sloane was well versed in half truths and cover ups. She knew how to twist scenarios to make them fit, she knew how to mask one emotion with another; covering up why she was upset was easy, even with a profiler as good as Emily was.
"Yeah, over at the HRT you don't get much of a chance to know who the hostages are, do you?" Prentiss asked as she leaned back against the doorframe, a small smile on her face.
"We usually focus on keeping the body count down by narrowing in on the suspect. Kidnapping cases are harder and that's without even thinking about the SUV cases we work." Sloane was relatively well known for her success rates at keeping the body counts down in hostage cases and abductions. Her team in Boston were the BAU of Hostage situations and kidnappings. They'd offered her a transfer to Quantico but when she asked about her team Sloane was told they were staying put, to which Sloane had said fine. So was she.
"You sure you're still onboard for this case. We can let you get back to your weekend." Prentiss asked, something in her voice that Sloane couldn't place. Sloane nodded.
"This bitch made me a suspect in this case. I don't care if it was intentional or not, Emily, I want to know who she is and what she thinks she's doing. What were you saying about Agent Hotchner?" Sloane smiled gratefully at Prentiss before moving towards the door, the faster she got back to the police office, the faster things would be processed and the faster she could get some rest. Away from agents and laptops and serial killers and this damn play and Derek Morgan.
"Oh, yeah, they found a copy at all of the victims' houses, all with the same photograph." Emily smiled as Sloane passed by her, saying something to the officer that Sloane didn't quite hear before they were both back outside. "He wants us all back at the station as soon as possible, forensics will go over the apartments, but I don't think we're going to find much more."
"Was there a calendar or a memo board?" Sloane stopped abruptly in the entrance way and Prentiss turned to face her.
"I didn't look." Prentiss spoke slowly as though she had just realised the fact.
"I know there wasn't anything in the bedroom or living room, but I have both or I'd forget my own name." Sloane laughed as she walked back into the house and into the kitchen, making a beeline for the little notice board next to the fridge. "We could get Garcia to check some of these things out with events in Martha's life?" Sloane pointed to the pieces of paper that simply had names, dates and times on them, nothing else.
"That's a good idea, we'll make a BAU profiler out of you yet!" Prentiss snapped a shot of the layout of the board with her cell before she started to remove the pins and the paper from the notice board before her cell began to ring.
"I got this." Sloane put her gloves back on and took the paper from her and continued to systematically remove the notes and their corresponding pins, separating them into new piles. "What's up?" Sloane asked when she heard Prentiss' heels on the tiled floor again.
"Change of plans. We've found another body. I'll drop you at the station and you can help Garcia go through this and we'll check out the new crime scene." Prentiss held out two evidence bags, one for the paper, one for the pins as Sloane sighed and nodded. Apparently someone didn't get the memo she'd had more than enough for today.