All facts and statistics, usually uttered by a certain genius, are accurate. I believe in growth through writing, so… if you have suggestions- things you want to see more of or things you want to have changed, let me know, and I'll try to accommodate you
"There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion that if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Slipping into the conference room, JJ noticed she was last to arrive. The Knights of the Round Table, as one unsub had once called them, were all assembled. Even Garcia was present, leaning behind Morgan's chair undoubtedly in the midst of banter that would make Strauss' toenails curl. Knowing the darkness she was about to submerge herself in, JJ gratefully allowed the banter to wash over her,
"Baby girl, you know I love you, but I am not going to your yoga class with you." Morgan was laughing as he shook his head. He was looking up from his chair at the blond tech girl with a smile JJ suspected only Garcia could draw out of him at 9 in the morning. Garcia appeared to be struggling to maintain a pout, the jerky bouncing of her shoulders indicative of the laughter she was holding in,
"Come on, my usual yoga buddy backed out. Besides, I want to see your chocolate decadence of a derriere doing a downward facing dog." The battle between laughter and pout was apparently compromised by the emergence of the classic Garcia smirk.
"Nuh-uh. Nope. I do not go for that new agey stuff. You know I prefer a good old cardio and weight training." Unconsciously, JJ suspected, Morgan flexed his biceps just slightly as if illustrating his point.
"The word yoga is derived from the Sanskrit root "yuj," meaning "to control" or "to unite. The first records of yoga practice actually date back to 900 B.C., but there were seals discovered at the Indus Valley sites in Pakistan that show common yoga poses dating back to 3300 B.C." After he finished speaking, Reid looked up from his coffee to the now silent pair, "I believe that would make it very… old agey."
JJ and Rossi muffled a laugh. Morgan opened his mouth with a rebuttal that fell silent and unused as a voice cleared on the other side of the room. Hotch was ready to present the case. The light air present only moments ago vanished as the team prepared to dive into a new case. With a click three young, blond unseeing faces flashed onto the screen. JJ could tell they were all pretty, or used to be before the color left their skin and their eyes became glazed and listless. There was no blood that she could see, and the pictures seemed to be taken at the morgue instead of the crime scene. That was odd.
"Four young women, all in their late teens to early twenties, committed suicide in the past month. All of them lived in Miami Dade County, Florida, each died on a Tuesday. The first one died of a drug overdose, the second two hung themselves, and the most recent one died three days ago of carbon monoxide poisoning from her car in a garage."
Morgan was first to speak up, "I know we've dealt with fake suicides before, but 4 women in a city as big as Miami, is it really that unlikely?"
"The suicide rate in Miami-Dade County is 9 deaths per 100,000 people. As of 2009 there were 2,500,625 people living in Miami-Dade equating an average suicide count of…" Reid paused as he appeared to scan calculations only he could see, "225 deaths per year. That said, given the high Hispanic population in the area and the specific hair colour, gender and age of the victim as well as all occurring on the same day of the week… the likelihood of these deaths being regular occurrences is statistically negligible." For the first time all morning Emily spoke,
"Negligible?" She had a small smile signifying that she was teasing the young genius. Despite herself, JJ felt a tension in her relax at the expression. If Emily was teasing, whatever was wearing the woman down wasn't all encompassing. Even as that tension eased, a larger and deeper rooted tension began to mount. Four women, all so close in age and colouring to JJ's sister. Suicides, at least allegedly, also like her sister. The similarity of it caused an ache deeper than any blade could reach.
Emily's eyes shifted from Reid to JJ. The eye contact affected her like it always did. She felt a warmth spread across her abdomen, down her arms and a small tingle in her fingertips. It momentarily eased the pain the past had brought into being. JJ may have gotten accustomed to many things regarding the often dark yet strangely warm Emily Prentiss, but the woman's ability to instinctively know when she needed a smile, a touch on the arm or a hand to hold never ceased to astound her. Emily's smile widened for just a second as her gaze lingered before switching back to Reid as he answered her, "Negligible meaning less than 1%."
Morgan sighed, seeming to want to argue further but unable to against Reid's statistics, "Is there any evidence at the scenes, DNA? A signature? Were the victims known to be depressed?"
Rossi joined in the questioning which was directed as much at the group as it was at Hotch, "And what's to say they're all related? And not only a few of them?"
Hotch dropped a pile of vanilla folders onto the desk and slid one to each of them, excluding Garcia, who would have no desire to read the reports from the Morgue or see more detailed pictures of the scenes.
Hotch waited until the team's eyes finished their first skim of the file and returned to him, "Some of the answers are in there, we'll discuss on the plane. The local authorities are pretty certain they're dealing with a serial killer, and they've been doing all they can to keep the press from catching wind. If they're right and the schedule holds, there will be another dead young woman Tuesday. We have four days. Garcia, we might be on a deadline so I want the whole team on deck. You're coming with us. Wheels up in 30." Without waiting for a response, Hotch brusquely walked out of the room.
As the others stood and started bustling around with files and coffee, JJ sunk just a little bit deeper into her chair. Her go bag was ready by the door of her office. She'd have to call Will and tell him she wouldn't be home for a few days. Will wouldn't be happy, but Henry would be even less so. Her darling boy was most definitely a momma's boy. While he undoubtedly cared for his father, he clung to her much more vigorously. She liked to believe it was because she was the mother and not because her time with him was much more limited.
"Jayj?" JJ looked up into the bespectacled eyes of her dear friend. Eyes that were now filled with concern and foreboding. Foreboding for the case ahead, concern, she realized, for her. The room was empty except for the two of them. She wasn't quite sure when that happened. She let a smile flit across her features, but she knew it probably looked strained at best. Garcia may not be a profiler, but the woman knew her better than most.
"I'm okay. I was just thinking about how I'm leaving Henry again. I keep waiting for it to get easier to leave him." If Garcia was surprised at the lack of mention of Will, she didn't show it,
"Oh sweetie. That boy loves his mommy something fierce. And who could blame him?" With a grin she bumped her hip against JJ's shoulder. When JJ's expression didn't change, Garcia prodded again cautiously, "Is that all? Or is it the case…" Garcia trailed off in a way that led JJ to believe she knew very well that the case was affecting her and why. JJ had never told Garcia about her sister, but being the Goddess of all things knowable, and as her sister's case was a matter of public record available to anyone internet savvy enough to dig it up, it wasn't too surprising. The sudden feeling of vulnerability was disconcerting. Standing up, JJ felt it lessen slightly as Garcia no longer loomed over her. JJ cleared her throat and tucking a stray flaxen lock behind her ear. The liaison hesitated before meeting her eyes,
"Both to be honest. But I'll be fine." With a brief smile she gathered her things and shot for the door, leaving an unsatisfied Garcia in her wake. JJ hadn't meant to tell the truth. It had slipped out without her permission; the act of a treacherous tongue and tumultuous emotions. Very dangerous with her company, not to mention her position as press liaison. JJ paused in the bullpen to gather her wits and sort through the various things she had to do before boarding the jet. She closed her eyes as her mind raced like a rock thrown down a hill. Dead women, dead sister, Garcia, Will, little Henry, her electric bill, how ridiculously hot was it going to be in Miami in August? Did she have appropriate clothing in her bag?
Thud.
Or at least her thoughts stopped with such abruptness that she could almost hear the thud. Soft delicate fingers trailed along her back, resting between her shoulder blades. JJ didn't move, didn't open her eyes. The blond told herself to breathe. As she did, she felt the fingers make the smallest of circles. Even if she hadn't recognized those fingers, she definitely recognized the warmth that spread out from them like an epicenter across her body. Her stomach jumped; her throat went dry, and the headache that had been threatening to materialize vanished.
Eyes opened. Blue met brown. Emily. The older woman offered her a small smile but did not speak. The silence of the moment was intoxicating.
All too soon the noise of the bullpen came rushing back. The fingers were removed, and Emily had gone to her desk. With a sigh a slightly more relaxed JJ pulled out her phone; she should call Will.