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This is more of an interlude, in which Emily Prentiss gets shit done!
– 4 –
There were days when Emily wished she'd never accepted the offer to head the B.A.U. Hell, there were days when she regretted coming back to the Bureau. As she stared at the two interview transcripts in front of her, she wondered if this was one of them.
It had been almost a month since she'd received the most horrifying phone call of her career. She could still hear JJ's trembling voice in her head, 'They're gone, Emily! Luke and Penelope, they're not answering their phones, they're gone!'
That plane ride back to D.C. had been bizarre. She'd gone over contingencies, plans with David, and after every possibility, after every query, she'd lifted her head to ask Garcia what she thought, to ask Garcia to look it up. The screen had been blank.
After the third time, she'd blinked fast, trying to stop the tears. She remembered David asking her if they should phone Derek, and she instinctively shook her head. Before they knew anything, there was no point in driving him crazy too. Besides, he had a wife. Sure, and a son, but his wife would not be happy at the tendrils of the FBI reaching out for Derek, just when he'd finally freed himself. Whoa, ma'am, she could hear Penelope saying. Creepy!
Emily smiled, and then the smile fell off her face. No, that was the old, pre-Koppel Penelope. This last month, there had been an air of . . . difference around Garcia. Sometimes, when she thought no-one was looking. Emily couldn't help wondering, once again, exactly what had gone on in that creepy little mirror-lined sex-room they'd been kept in.
Her eyes fell on Penelope's interview, and she skimmed over a few exchanges. The OPR agent asked something about Penelope's phone. She gave him a non-answer, but even the reference triggered a wave of memories in Emily's head. She was transported again to Koppel's suburban home, with the standard-issue SUV parked in front of it, and police cordon around it, police cars parked haphazardly, uniforms milling about, and curious neighbours gathering.
JJ, Reid and Tara had long been in the house once she and David drove up. When they walked in, it was clear they had caught Reid mid-lecture.
". . . so, he must have lured them in – particularly p-Penelope- see, she left her purse on the chair here, and her phone is still in it. Luke stayed outside the room, maybe he saw something . . . but then he put his- his gun down – why? Why would he do that? I don't-"
"Just – everyone, listen up!" Emily knew her words came out more like a bark, than anything reassuring, but they needed to pull themselves together. If that meant she had to come across as the strict teacher, well then. She'd been called worse.
"We can't let our emotions get the better of us – we owe it to Penelope . . . and to Alvez."
The others grew visibly calmer, though it was a fragile calm, soon to be broken once they found the carefully arranged envelopes in the outer room, the ones with the fake names. It took them a few hours to piece it together, but of the three conference organizers, only Koppel was real. They'd eventually tracked down the actors he'd hired to interview for the posts, and after that, they'd only ever 'worked remotely' – Koppel was behind everything. Once he'd known he was getting another couple, this time, trained investigators, he'd left the envelopes out for either Alvez or Garcia to see. Alvez had told her about the moment when he'd recognized those names, and had realized they'd walked into a trap. He'd described it as the worst moment of his life.
Emily sighed, and leaned back in her chair. Penelope and Luke had been in that . . . that creature's clutches for no more than a day, a day and a half, but she felt like the rollercoaster of emotions had aged them all a decade. Even once they'd discovered the strange software running on Garcia's phone, which none of them knew what to do with.
But then Spencer had come up with a geographical profile, pointing out that each couple had been deposited in their home state, and then someone, she couldn't remember who, had come up with the idea of using a chopper to fly in widening circles starting from Koppel's house. And then, once they'd flown a good distance away, Garcia's phone had started beeping.
Even then, it hadn't been a slam dunk, especially as the phone led them to a dumpster, where they'd found Garcia's shoes. But not the rest of her, Emily kept repeating, silently. Not the rest of her.
They reasoned that the killer's destination must have been close by, and finally arrived at a run-down industrial district, where they wasted more time, she felt, looking through long abandoned warehouses. She'd almost given up, when Spencer pointed out the last one, which had altogether too many electrical wires leading to it for it to have been abandoned.
Emily felt she'd never forget her fleeting glimpse of the killing box Koppel had constructed – the automatic weapons on stands, crouched around it, like spiders getting ready for the killing strike. The windows into the room, where she could see Penelope and Luke, standing close together. The horror as they were doused with something she immediately knew wasn't water.
The rage that went over her when she heard Koppel crowing about a rape kit was something she did not want to revisit, and it was only slightly mitigated by hearing that Penelope was trying to protect Luke by refusing it. Her eyes fell on the interview transcript again. Of course, it was procedure to interview agents who'd been victims of a crime, just as it was procedure for them to get counselling. Somehow, she didn't think that was very comforting for Penelope.
". . . Special Agent Garcia, perhaps you can walk us through the events one more time-"
"Look, I've said it, and I'll say it again – he kidnapped us, it was my fault, Special Agent Alvez was just trying to protect me, Koppel kept us there for however long it was, our team rescued us, the end!"
"Koppel has recounted, in some detail, compelling you to engage in . . . inappropriate behaviour. How do you respond to that?"
"Are you taking the word of a serial killer over one of your own? I am telling you that nothing happened, except at the end, when he tried to set us on fire!"
Emily leaned back and yawned, fighting the impulse to stretch, too. It took her a while, but she finally understood why Penelope refused absolutely to admit what Koppel had made them do. The BAU was not a popular division. Hotch had always avoided Bureau politics and bitching, and she'd followed his example. This was payback – this interview, whatever they'd said to Luke.
She'd only skimmed through Luke's transcript, and she opened it again. He'd said even less than Penelope, restricting himself to yes/no answers, and only expanding twice.
When he was asked why Koppel would have spared them, when he forced all his other victims into, as they put it, unwanted intimacy, Emily winced. She could just imagine Luke bristling at being called a victim. What she had on paper, though, seemed unemotional. If a bit hesitant. She would have put money on this being a script that Penelope had prepared for him.
". . . He kept insulting Special Agent Garcia . . . about her weight. Said that it should have been JJ – uh, Special Agent Jareau – with me that day. He kept taunting her, that he was going to kill her, and kidnap someone else to take her place."
The OPR agent changed tack, almost immediately. Emily recognized the technique, though she was more used to seeing it used in interrogating an unsub, not one of their own.
"Perhaps you can explain why you gave up your service weapon. As you know, agency protocol clearly states-"
"I know what it says!"
Special Agent Alvez became agitated at this point.
"Koppel . . . the unsub . . . had a gun under her chin! His finger was on the trigger! He would have shot her . . . and I could not allow that to happen."
Emily sighed again and closed the folder. One day she was going to actually finish reading the transcripts. But not this day, she decided. She'd read the report, no official disciplinary action would be taken against her agents, and she was going to be happy with that. Also, she needed to deal with Penelope, who'd been hovering outside her office all morning.
Emily waved her in. Penelope gave her a hesitant smile, and sat down. It wasn't that she looked so very different than before, just slightly toned down. Was it the experience with Koppel that had changed her, or the interview with OPR?
"How are you, Penelope?"
"Fine, just fine . . . ok, not really fine. But getting there? I guess? Not pregnant, though, so big yay! Oh dear god, that was TMI, right?"
Emily couldn't help the big smile she could feel spreading across her face. Penelope was going to be alright. Still, there was something going on with her.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Penelope shrugged, and looked to the side, biting her lip slightly. After a couple of false starts, she threw her hands in the air, and tried again.
"Oh, to hell with it. Ok, let's say I . . . Urgh, this is so hard! Let's say I have a friend, right? A friend who had inappropriate feelings for a work colleague for years, and after that work colleague left, and broke her heart, decided she was never going to fall that way again! Never!"
Penelope's voice almost broke on the last 'never', and Emily nodded at her, trying to show her she understood. Her thoughts about Derek were less kind, though. Maybe he hadn't been stringing Penelope along for a decade, at least not consciously. But it sure looked that way from where she was sitting. Penelope had started talking again, and Emily focused on that.
"And then she gets another impossibly handsome and unattainable colleague, except this guy might be showing a little bit of interest, and she lets herself hope that something might happen . . . and then a sadistic sociopath kidnaps them and makes them do some really filthy stuff to each other . . . and now he won't even look at me! At her, I mean. My friend."
"Penelope . . . "
"Ok, fine. You have seen through my cunning disguise. It's just – getting to know someone, you want them to see you at your best, you know. Not sweaty and gross, and terrified."
Emily sighed inwardly, though she made sure that it wasn't visible on her face. Did Hotch have to deal with relationship counselling when he was Unit Chief?
"I'm sure Luke was just as scared as you," she said, feeling helpless. "Have you tried talking to him about it?"
Penelope shook her head, eyes wide, sparkly earrings bouncing around her face. "No, no, of course not. I've been avoiding h- I mean . . ."
Emily raised her eyebrows, and Penelope winced.
"So maybe the whole can't look at each other thing comes from both sides. I don't know," she said, looking defeated. "Maybe I should have taken some time off after the . . . incident."
Emily nodded, resolute, and pulled up a form on her computer. Now this she could do.
"I'm signing off on a week, Penelope. Starting from now. Go home and take care of yourself. Though it would help a lot if you could just talk to Luke – if you aren't getting any counselling . . . " She gave Penelope a significant look, but she just nodded, and left.
The BAU didn't have any open cases at the moment, and if something came up, they'd just have to cope without Garcia. She should have taken time off after the kidnapping – they both should have. In fact, that was going to be her next bit of paperwork – giving Alvez the week off.
Just then, Alvez and Rossi walked into the bullpen. They'd both been out of the BAU that morning – Rossi to lecture, and Luke for firearms training. Not that he needed it – he had been assigned it as a 'punishment' for giving up his gun, Emily thought sourly. Just the kind of thing OPR thought was smart. Garcia had been given an unofficial reprimand for going out into the field unarmed.
As Emily watched, Luke got something out of his desk, and started walking towards her office. She brightened. Maybe he'd come to the same conclusion she had, and was going to take time off!
"Hey, um, Prentiss." Luke opened his mouth to say more, then just dropped the letter on her desk and turned to walk away.
Emily had a puzzled moment of thinking that it didn't look like a leave request form, before she actually interpreted the words she was reading.
I hereby tender my resignation from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, effective immediately-
"Special Agent Alvez!" Her voice cracked out like a whip, and Luke, who'd just reached the door of her office, jumped. "Stop right where you are!"
Luke turned around, looking sheepish, and she waved the letter at him, pointing imperiously at the office chair Penelope had recently vacated. Oh, she was getting to the bottom of this.
Once he was seated, she fixed him with her best Hotch glare. "Explain."
Luke opened his mouth, closed it, and then tried again. "I messed up. The whole Koppel thing . . . it's my fault. I almost got her- got Garcia killed."
What the hell was going on? Why was Luke taking it all on himself?
"I don't understand," Emily started. "Koppel targeted you both, so-"
"Penelope should never have been there," Luke interrupted, his voice passionate. "I didn't think he was the unsub," he went on, calmer, though pained. "I thought we'd just check this guy out, and then, after . . . I was going to . . . maybe a drink . . . "
The last words were mumbled so low, Emily only caught a word or two, but inwardly she was cheering – so he was interested in Penelope! But wait, why was he leaving? She tried to put it as diplomatically as she could.
"But Penelope's . . . fine," she said, trying to sell it. "She's alive," she said, with more conviction. "You're alive. You came up against a monster who'd gotten away with killing six people, and you survived."
That should be enough, she thought. But Luke was shaking his head.
"I hurt her. He made me . . . hurt her." His hands were shaking, and he folded his arms, deliberately looking away when she tried to meet his eyes.
Emily wanted to say all kinds of things, to keep insisting that Penelope didn't feel that way about what had happened. But she knew he wasn't going to believe it, coming from her. This was ridiculous. All they needed to do was talk to each other. And she, Emily Prentiss, was going to make it happen.
Luke jumped when the loud whirring of a paper shredder filled the room, and this time, met her eyes. So she saw exactly when the mulish look came over his face.
"I can write another," he said, unwilling to let it go.
"I like shredding stupid letters," Emily countered, giving him her best stare, then she relented. "Look, you need time off. You should have taken it after the . . . kidnapping. I know you've got mandatory counselling, but what are you even telling the psychologist?"
Luke's eyes widened. "You know?"
Emily shrugged. "I know that I wouldn't trust an in-house counsellor, and Garcia is even more paranoid than I am. And she probably gave you instructions, right?"
Luke nodded, and Emily had to supress her annoyance, once more. If Penelope could talk to him for that, why couldn't they really talk? Never mind, she thought. Here goes nothing.
"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Garcia – take the week off. But you're getting an order attached." She leaned over her desk, focusing a laser stare on Luke. "Talk to Penelope. I mean it. You both need to stop acting like teenagers."
He still looked doubtful, but then he nodded. He seemed dazed as he wandered out of the BAU, giving a distracted wave to Spencer and Rossi as he went.
"What was that all about?" Rossi asked, eyebrows raised.
They might as well know . . . something, Emily thought. "He's taking some time off – Penelope too. They need to hash some things out."
Rossi grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Pay up, my friends. Called it."
JJ rolled her eyes, reaching in her back pocket, while Tara went for her purse.
"Not so fast," Spencer said, turning to Emily. "So who was it who finally decided, Luke or Penelope?"
"Neither," Emily said, brows drawn together. She should have known Rossi couldn't resist a bet. "I called it."
JJ beamed, making a beckoning gesture. "Come to mama!"
The others groaned, and started reaching for their money.
"How did you know, anyway?" Emily asked.
"Well, the millionth time Penelope called Luke 'rookie', and 'new guy' did make it kind of obvious," JJ said with a smile. Then she gave Emily a look, suggesting there were other reasons, but not ones she could bring up in front of the guys.
"Yeah, and how many times can you hear, 'that Garcia, what's up with her?' and not guess what's going on," Rossi added.
"What kind of movies does Garcia like?" Spencer said. "and 'how vegetarian is vegetarian, anyway?'" he went on. "I think he was asking the wrong person."
Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, and spoke with her eyes closed. "Now I know what high school's like. Everybody . . . get back to work." Then she looked at her watch. When had it gotten so late? "Scratch that . . . off to O'Keefe's. First round's on JJ."
JJ pretended to protest, and then smirked, lingering behind after Spencer, David and Tara left.
"Do you think I did the right thing?" Emily asked, suddenly worried. "Telling him to go after her, I mean."
"They need to talk, I know that much," JJ said, looking pensive. She gave Emily a mischievous smile. "You're a great counsellor, Miss Prentiss!"
"Oh, no. Never again," Emily groaned. "I even prefer paperwork at this point."
JJ laughed and led the way out, already on the phone to Will and her boys. Emily followed, still wondering if she'd done the right thing, if Hotch would have done the same. No, this was pointless, she decided. No more second guessing. She was going to have a drink with her team . . . with her friends. As for Penelope, and Luke – all she could do was give them a push to take the first step. The rest was in their hands.
oOo
Notes:
If anyone's worried about Luke and Penelope not being allowed to have a relationship, because in one season they mentioned fraternization rules in the FBI, worry no more!
They totally made that up for the show, just like they change Penelope's backstory whenever it fits their plot, so I'm unmaking it. There are no obstacles to Luke and Penelope's relationship, except the ones they create. In the next chapter, no more waiting!