Chapter Four: Hotch's Realizations
"Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of what you already have"
Hotch was the last one to the dining room. He'd taken an extra few minutes to compose himself once entering his room. He'd taken the one next to Prentiss's and Dave took the other. The rest of the team were bunking—literally—in two rooms on the opposite side of the house. And it was a large house, with pleasant and comfortable décor. Solidly middle class, working class.
His team was already seated when he entered. Harris headed up a long, plank-style table along which at least three dozen people sat. With the exceptions of JJ, Garcia, and Prentiss—the room's occupants were all male.. Prentiss was beside Harris, seated at his immediate right, with an empty chair directly beside her. Dave was across the table from her. Both occupied seats of traditionally high status. Hotch would bet money it was Harris who'd brought the team in on this case. He'd been nothing but welcoming—especially with the dark haired woman on his right. Hotch stepped closer, slid into the chair.
"Sir." Prentiss nodded, politely. That cool tone she always used with him. He wondered why it only bothered him now.
Especially when Harris asked her a direct question, and her voice warmed minutely. She liked him, he realized. He watched them interact. Harris leaned forward when he spoke with her, she tilted her head in his direction.. She smiled, something just past professional. There was that spark of humor in her dark, dark eyes.
Harris passed Hotch the mashed potatoes—real potatoes, he suspected.. Prentiss's hand rose to help guide it, and Hotch's covered hers on the bowl. She smiled at him. Her attention focused on him for just a moment.
Then she turned back to Harris when he spoke again. Hotch fought the urge to snarl at the other man.
He remained quiet as he ate, trying to analyze just what was going on inside his head—inside his body.
He'd been divorced for over a year. Hadn't been with a woman in longer than that. Attraction was based on two levels: physical and emotional. Physically, Prentiss was a very attractive woman, he may not have noticed that before—but he noticed it now. Emotionally, they had a lot in common, saw a lot of the same things. That was understandable. She was the right age, right background, similar life experiences—objectively, he understood why a man like him would be attracted to a woman like her.
Apparently, his body and mind were telling him it was time to move past Hayley. And because Prentiss was the nearest woman who met his subconscious's needs, he was turning toward her. And he could understand that he was feeling threatened by other males being near her.
Because he understood this, he could put a stop to it, immediately. If he chose to. He resolved to do just that.
But there was nothing stopping them from being friends. In fact, that would only benefit the team in the long run.
After dinner Harris showed them to a large conference-style room where a table had been laid out with copies of all the files and evidence involved. A large white board took up one corner.
"Figured you could do what you needed tonight. Tomorrow, we'll head up the mountain. At least part of us. The others can head over to the Webster place, it's got road access. The Jones' place—only accessible by horse this time of year. Or foot." Harris said, after holding out a chair for Prentiss, then turning to do the same for JJ and then Garcia.
Hotch thought all three women looked impressed by the man's manners.. Hotch wondered how much of the man's behaviors were for show. An uncharitable thought, and he chastised himself before walking toward the white board. "Thanks, Sheriff. We should be fine from this point on. We'll let you know if we need anything else."
It was a dismissal, and Harris wasn't deaf to it.
After the man left, the rest of the team gathered closer.
"This is a different kind of place." Garcia said. "Like we stepped back in time."
"They stood when we entered the room." JJ said, a small touch of awe in her voice. "Helped us with our chairs."
"Called me hon." Garcia snickered. "JJ, miss. And Em—she gets the most respect, apparently."
JJ and Garcia snickered, mimed touching the brim of imaginary hats, nodded comically, then said in unison—in deeper than usual voices. "Ma'am."
Prentiss laughed, that deep laugh that made Hotch fight his own smile.. "Be quiet, you two."
"Hey, at least you get your own room, ma'am." JJ said. "Garcia insisted I take the top bunk. A real bunk bed. I think I got a splinter when I climbed up to check it out."
"There's a skylight in my room." Prentiss admitted. "I can see the stars from my bed. It's nice."
"We should probably get to work, ladies." Dave said, smiling at the three. "I have a strange feeling tomorrow will come really early around here. And some of us will be in for a long day on horseback."
"Not me." JJ said, bluntly. "I've not ridden since I was a little girl. And I don't plan on starting now."
"I'll go." Prentiss said. "I'm used to riding a horse. The rest of you are going to be very, very sore when its all said and done."
"So you ride." Dave said. "Actually own a horse."
"Yes." Prentiss said. "My mother bought me my first pony when I was seven. Have had three more horses since then."
"What's its name?" Reid asked. "What kind of horse is it? How much does it weigh?"
"I've never put her on the scales, Reid." Prentiss laughed. "And she's an Andalusian named Lachesis. She's at the stables, at my mother's estate in Maryland. I go up at least twice a month, preferably more to see her."
"You named a horse after one of the Fates?" Reid asked. "Why?"
"Because when I lost my previous horse, I found Lachesis through the same original stables. It was fate." Prentiss's face was animated, and Hotch just watched, trying to recall whether he'd seen her that enthusiastic about a personal interest before.
He couldn't remember.
"Let's get on track here. This isn't a vacation." He said, quietly drawing everyone's attention. He regretted his words when the mask shuttered over her face and she hid how she was feeling from him. Had she always done that? Was it the natural result of growing up in a political world or was it a result of how he'd treated her when she'd first joined the team? He hoped it was the former, and not the latter.
Hotch felt shame that he'd not considered how his behavior may have been affecting the rest of the team over the last year, year and a half. He made a quick resolution to be more considerate in his dealings with the rest of them.
"Yes, sir." She said, grabbing her pen and holding her body almost rigid.
He smiled at her softly, wanting to reassure her, to let her know he wasn't displeased with her. Her eyes narrowed, and he wondered if he'd overdone it a bit.
He knew then that mending his relationship with her would be a bit more difficult than he'd thought. He'd have to give it a lot of consideration when he got the chance. He couldn't just expect changes to occur between them overnight. That would be unrealistic.
He guided the discussion, probing deeply into the case for the next two hours. Frustration clenched at him, they'd not been able to identify much more than what they'd first came with. He finally dismissed the group, knowing that they'd have to gather more information before they could go any further.
He waited for Dave and Prentiss, before heading to their 'wing' of the large, sprawling ranch house. Hotch estimated there was a least twelve bedrooms in the place, maybe even more.
Harris's operation was probably quite successful.
Dave and Prentiss were speaking softly, unintentionally excluding him once again. He wondered if that was something that happened a lot—and why he hadn't noticed before. Had he been in a cloud all this time?
What else had he missed?
