Just down the street from the FBI academy, Joseph Hamburger was sitting on the bed in his jail cell, wearing the orange jumpsuit the prison guards had forced him to put on. "Come on, Kyle, follow the plan," He muttered. "You know what to do, we've been through this a million times. You know what to do. We can win this. We will win."

The prison guards thought nothing of it; they had too many other problems to take care of to notice the new prisoner acting strangely. If they had been a little less busy and a little more perceptive, maybe the outcome would have been different. Maybe.

At the FBI academy...

It was 8:45 in the morning the next day. They had 15 minutes before they had to give the press conference, and they had a huge problem.

"Where's JJ?" Hotch demanded, rushing into the bullpen where the other agents were seated.

Morgan leaned forward in his seat. "You mean she's not here yet?"

"Yes, I mean she's not here yet!" He answered, eyes searching frantically around the area for any sign of their media liaison.

"I'll try calling her," Prentiss suggested, seeing how stressed her boss was.

"Tried that. She didn't pick up. I'm going to go see what I can do; tell me as soon as any of you hear anything," Hotch ordered, already storming away.

Silence. "Damn," Morgan said.

"Yeah. So did you and JJ...erm...work everything out?" Prentiss asked.

"Yeah, we are fine now. It was just a misunderstanding. Where do you think she is?" No answer.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry I'm late," a quiet, hoarse voice sounded from behind them. They all whirled around to see their blonde coworker standing there, almost dropping all the files and bags she was holding.

"JJ, where were you? Hotch is freaking out," Rossi informed, just as Reid got up and sprinted to his boss's office.

"Overslept..." She mumbled, dragging her feet uncharacteristically as she lazily walked towards her coworkers.

"Um, JJ? What...what happened to your voice?"

"Oh, I, uh. I lost it," She responded, coughing.

"Jennifer Jareau! You are never allowed to be late again. You have a press conference in ten minutes!" Hotch bellowed, walking back into the bullpen, followed by a terrified Reid.

"Yeah, about that..." JJ said as loudly as she could. However, Hotch could barely make out the words.

He groaned. "JJ, please don't tell me you lost your voice."

She shrugged. "Sorry."

"How?"

Morgan interjected, "I bet it was a late night out."

"I bet she's sick. Look at her," Reid countered.

"She is right here," JJ reminded them.

"Sorry," Morgan and Reid said in unison, making JJ smile.

"What are we going to do about the press? We need to give this speech, it's the only way to get the unsub."

"There's no way she can do it," Reid stated the obvious.

"No shit, Sherlock. I can go," Morgan offered.

JJ laughed, which immediately turned into coughing again.

"You sound horrible," Rossi informed.

"Thanks."

"What was so funny?"

"Oh, nothing. Just the thought of Morgan giving a press conference."

He pointed a finger at her. "Hey, I bet I can do better than you."

Garcia, who had just entered, laughed at this. "Yes, I'm sure muscle-man can talk to people better than our trained media liaison."

"Hey, don't hate me just 'cause I'm beautiful," Morgan scolded playfully.

"Trust me, honey, that's not why."

"Morgan, you sure you can do this?" Hotch interrupted them. This was no time for flirting or playing, or whatever the strange back-and-forth that was constantly going on between Garcia and Morgan was.

"Sure. It's either that or this guy runs free, right?"

"Pretty much."

"Cool. I got it. How long do we have?"

Prentiss looked at her watch. "About two minutes."

"Wonderful. Now, what do I say?" They all looked at JJ—she had planned out the speech, anyways.

"Well, just give the description of the guy. Don't give the name—make him think he has something over us, give him some leverage. Say that we caught the unsub, but his brother is on the loose. Make him feel unappreciated, like he's not as important as Joseph—erm, his brother." JJ paused. "Actually, use his brother's name, just not his."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"He'll probably be there, but you already know that. The rest of us will watch here, from the bullpen."

"Okay. By the way, you sound awful."

"Go away," she joked. "And good luck."

He winked at her, turning around and walking into the sea of reporters.

"This is going to be good," JJ grinned.

Emily sighed. "Yeah, I wish the rest of us could watch."

At JJ's confused look, Rossi explained, "Paper work. Don't you have to finish yours?"

JJ smiled. "One of the numerous perks of being the media liaison. Nope, I have about half as much as you guys." She plopped down in Morgan's usual seat and turned on the TV.

The rest of the team moaned and walked away, unable to concentrate with the television blaring.

Morgan stepped into view of the cameras and onto the screen. He stood behind a podium and began saying what JJ had told him to, almost word for word.

He kept pausing, flustered by all the reporters interrupting with various questions.

Sometimes, no matter how irrational it seems, JJ wonders if maybe she hadn't sneezed at that very moment, she would have been able to stop it. Maybe, if she hadn't been sick, she would have seen the gun and caught him before it happened. But no amount of wishing can change the past.

Just as Morgan was beginning the description of Kyle Hamburger, JJ sneezed. She sighed, and looked around for a tissue. And at that second, two gunshots sounded from the TV.

"Derek," she gasped, and bolted outside.

At the County Prison...

"You lose," Joseph muttered calmly, hearing the gunshot from outside his jail cell. "Good work, Kyle; we got them. They lost."

Hmm...not exactly how I planned it... Reviews? Comments? Thanks!