A/N: Thank you for all the kind comments. This is a pretty long part, but I couldn't think of a way to break it up, so I hope you enjoy and if you get a chance, please leave a review. I like getting the feedback. Thanks!
"Roses and death have an ancient history together, Mr. Palmer. Fossilized remains of rose wreaths have been found in Egyptian tombs. It seems our killer is continuing that tradition of death and roses."
"Or he's just jerking our chain, Duck," Gibbs said as he and Emily breezed through autopsy's doors.
"Ah Jethro, just in time for some of my preliminary findings, though there's not much difference from the earlier victims. Agent Prentiss! How nice to see you again!"
"Dr. Mallard," Emily smiled.
"Oh please, my dear, Ducky. I insist."
"Then you'll have to call me Emily." She turned her bright smile towards Palmer. "I hope you'll call me that too, Mr. Palmer."
"Jimmy," the young man smiled. He still wasn't used to anyone bothering to acknowledge him, nevermind going out of their way to include him. Only Abby really did that on a regular basis. He really liked this woman from the FBI. Plus she was gorgeous to look at.
"Emily," Ducky repeated. "What a delightful name. I do believe it means "industrious" or "to excel". An indication of a successful person."
"The irony considering the case is that my middle name is 'Rose'. I was named after both grandmothers."
"Emily Rose," Ducky said. "It's a lovely name for a lovely lady." He gave her a small courtly bow.
Emily couldn't help smiling at him. Really, Ducky was just way too cute to resist.
"If we're all through," Gibbs sniped. "I'd like to know what you found out about our corporal."
"Really Jethro, since we have such a beautiful visitor here with us, I truly hoped you would have shown her some of your finer manners," Ducky huffed in exasperation.
"It's okay, Ducky," Emily interceded before Gibbs could say anything. "We do have a case to solve and Agent Gibbs has been very kind and welcoming to me."
Ducky and Palmer stared at her as if she had just sprouted another head. "What?" she asked.
"Yeah, what?" Gibbs smirked at them.
"Jethro has been welcoming? Kind?" Ducky said slowly. "Jethro?"
"Yeeessss," Emily said, uncertain about the reaction she was getting. She could tell when she met him that Gibbs could be difficult, but really, he's been very pleasant to work with today. Surely Ducky and Jimmy who work with him all the time know that about him. Why are they surprised?
"Will wonders never cease," Ducky merely replied.
"Duck, the corporal," Gibbs prompted.
"Yes, well our young corporal received a total of nine stab wounds and no defensive wounds. However, I can explain that. Mr. Palmer." With Jimmy's help, they rolled the body part way over and Gibbs and Emily could see two small marks on Finch's lower back.
"Taser," Emily identified the marks.
"Yes," Ducky confirmed as he set the body back down. "It seems our young corporal was subdued before he was stabbed. This wound here pierced his heart and is what killed him."
"None of the other victims had taser marks?" Emily turned to Gibbs.
The agent shook his head. "Nor any defensive marks," he replied. "Anything else?"
"We found some trace elements that we've sent up to Abby," Ducky continued. "It might help you find the location of where this murder actually took place."
"Keep me posted if you find anything," Gibbs was saying as he wheeled about to head for the doors. Emily gave Ducky and Palmer a small wave before she followed Gibbs out of autopsy.
"Jethro welcoming towards an FBI agent forced on him for an investigation?" Ducky murmured. "What brought that about?"
"Well, she is pretty," Jimmy commented.
The pulsing beat of the music was deafening and familiar. On their elevator ride down, Gibbs had mentioned that they would be visiting NCIS' forensics scientist. When Emily stepped into the lab, the sight that greeted her was one she was not expecting.
Abby Scuitto was dressed in her favorite plaid mini-skirt that day and had paired it with her black t-shirt that had the rhinestone skull and crossbones emblazoned on the chest. A long sleeve white t-shirt was layered underneath the black one. White knee high socks floated above clunky black loafers that gave the already tall woman an additional three inches in height. Her hair was pulled into two pigtails. To cap off the surreal world Emily felt she had walked into, Abby was talking to a stuffed animal, a hippopotamus to be exact.
"I don't care if she is pretty. He wouldn't be nice just because he thought she was pretty," Abby was saying to Bert, her stuffed animal. "He's not like that."
"Abby!" Gibbs barked out over the loud music. He made a little motion with his hand, telling her to turn off the noise.
The scientist picked up her remote and soon silence settled over the lab. She looked over Gibbs' shoulder at the woman just behind him. Abby had to admit, she was very pretty.
"Hi, Emily Prentiss from the FBI," the woman said, extending her hand. "Great music."
Abby almost snorted at the lame attempt to forge a connection with her and made no move to accept Emily's hand until she heard the older woman's next words.
"I think though, Brain Matter's third album was much better. This sophomore outing was a little hit or miss."
Abby's jaw dropped and even Gibbs threw her a look of surprise.
"You know Brain Matter?" Abby stuttered.
"Uh yeah," Emily replied, a little nonplussed by the searching looks she was getting from both NCIS employees and the fact that the hand she held out to Abby was simply hanging there. She drew her hand back in and looked uncertainly at Abby and then Gibbs. "I have a friend who does the PR and bookings for a lot of the local bands. He usually hooks me up with tickets and I go when I can. I've been following Brain Matter for a while, ever since they first started out."
"Wait! Wait!" Abby was fairly vibrating with excitement. "Do you think you can get me tickets to see them at Annapolis because I have been trying forever to score some and they're all sold out."
Emily smiled. "Yeah, once their song "Land of the Living Freaks" became a big hit, it's been harder and harder to get tickets. Luckily my friend Billy always makes sure I'm taken care. I'll see what I can do and if all else fails, at least you can have my spare one. Billy usually gives me two, but I have a hard time finding someone who wants to go see them."
"You too?" Abby exclaimed, feeling such a kinship with this woman. "I have tried in like forever to get the guys here to go with me, but they keep brushing me off. I mean, how can they not like songs like "Tragic Tundra" or "Impossible Missionary Position"?"
Emily laughed. "I know. If they only gave it a chance, they would see that Brain Matter has a lot more to offer than just loud music."
"If you two are done, I'd like to get back to the case," Gibbs interrupted the bewildering bonding between the two women. He had never seen Abby take to someone new that quickly who didn't walk on four paws and was covered in fur. And Emily Prentiss actually liked Abby's kind of music? Obviously, there was a LOT more to this woman than met the eye.
"We'll talk later," Abby winked at Emily. "Okay, back to the case. The information I have for you might be kinda interesting. Ducky sent up samples of a powder that was on Corporal Finch's skin and I took some samples from his clothing. Acting at his top capacity, Major Mass Spectrometer broke it down and discovered that we had a winning combination of dry wall and sawdust.
"Construction," Gibbs murmured.
"That part of DC Finch was found in has been going recent urban revitalization," Emily added. "A lot of construction going on. Finch might have been meeting someone at a site or a home undergoing renovations."
"Already ahead of you FBI Emily," Abby said as she clicked on a few keys on her keyboard. She pulled up a map of Southeast DC that had highlighted areas, seven in blue and one in red. "The area in red is where Corporal Finch was found. The blue areas are the places where construction is taking place based on permits. Now, if someone is doing a small home job, they wouldn't have applied for a permit, but what I also found was some oil on the bottom of Finch's shoe. It's industrial paint that is readily available to commercial contractors, not so much for the Home Depot weekend shopper."
"That's good work, Abs," Gibbs said. He gave her a small peck on the cheek she had offered, surprising Emily. "Come on, Prentiss."
"Are we going to visits those sites?" Emily asked as she waved goodbye to Abby who made a small phone handset motion with one hand, indicating she wanted to talk to Emily later. The FBI agent grinned at her and scurried after Gibbs. She slipped into the elevator next to him right before the doors closed.
"I am along with DiNozzo and David, but I think it's time you go over the other murders, see what you can find in the casefiles."
Emily tried not to feel disappointed that she wasn't going back out on the field, but Gibbs was the lead and she really did need to look at those casefiles. The elevator deposited them back onto the floor where Gibbs' team was located. The smell of something rich, fatty and entirely bad for you assaulted Emily's nose and her stomach growled. She realized it had been hours since she had last eaten. She glanced hurriedly at Gibbs hoping he hadn't heard. The NCIS agent didn't turn his head, but she had no doubt he had caught that embarrassing sound. Not much escaped the man's notice.
They turned a corner and Emily could see that the rest of Team Gibbs were eating a late dinner that consisted of burritos. One glare from Gibbs sent them tossing their half-eaten meal into garbage cans and turning back to their computers or picking up the phone.
"DiNozzo! David! You two are with me. McGee! Get Prentiss the files on the first seven murders and make sure she gets set up somewhere," Gibbs barked out as he retrieved his gun from his desk drawer.
He never broke stride, not sparing Emily or anyone else a glance as he picked up his coat, carefully putting Emily's back on his chair, and strode towards the elevators, Ziva and Tony scrambling in his wake to catch up to him.
"Wow," Emily breathed out. "He is a bit like a tornado. What does he run on? Rocket fuel?"
"Coffee," McGee replied in a friendly tone. "Though, if you ever taste the coffee he drinks it does sort of taste like rocket fuel. Come one, we have a spare desk over here." He pointed to the tiny desk that was opposite him and closest to the hallway.
Emily looked at the tiny space in dismay. "I don't mean to be a pain, but is there somewhere larger I could possibly set up? I kinda like to have more room to spread out all the information." She hoped it didn't sound as presumptuous as it did to her own ears.
"Uh, sure," McGee replied uncertainly. Normally he would have said no, but then again, Gibbs had been treating Prentiss a little differently. Maybe he would be upset if McGee didn't comply with her small request. "I think we can put you up in one of the conference rooms."
"Thanks, McGee," Emily smiled at him and the young agent couldn't help but smile back. Really, she was awfully pretty and her smile was infectious.
McGee closed the door after him as he left Emily alone in the small conference room. After helping her carry the boxes of information on the previous murders and finding a whiteboard for her to use, he had excused himself to continue the financial research Gibbs had ordered. Emily began sorting the files but her eyes kept straying to her cell phone where a little red light continued to blink at her indicating she had at least one voicemail message.
She hadn't had time to check her messages and knew it could only be from Hotch as she hadn't received any calls since the one he made earlier that day. She sighed, knowing she couldn't avoid him forever and picked up her phone.
"Prentiss, its Hotch. Strauss informed me about your consult with NCIS. I'm sure you'll do your normal stellar work. You're more than capable of handling a consult on your own. However, if you feel the need to just talk or bounce anything off someone, know you can call me. Or anyone on the team. We're uh, dealing with a family annihilator here in Montana or one of us would be there backing you up right now. But, uh, if you feel you do need us, please call me. Anytime. Just call me. Even if it's just to talk."
While the slightly rambling tone of the message made her smile, she also couldn't help feel slightly annoyed with Aaron Hotchner on top of the anger that was still there from the Benton case. First he says she can handle this consult on her own and then seems to indicate she might want to run to one of them for back-up. And Aaron Hotchner offering himself up as an ear to "just talk"? Unheard of. She didn't know what he was up to, maybe feeling guilty for how he treated her earlier. Or could this be his way of checking up on her because he really didn't think she was ready to handle a solo consult after what happened with Matthew? Emily didn't know what to make of the message and only knew that she didn't feel like dealing with him at the moment.
However, she couldn't just ignore him. She bit her lip and thought about it. He was her supervisor, but Strauss made it clear that all she had to do with this consult was send in a daily report of her activities to the Section Chief or let Strauss know if there was anything that might reflect badly on the Bureau. Hotch hadn't ordered her to give him daily reports and they were dealing with a family annihilator in Montana.
Emily tapped her fingers on her phone and came to a decision. She texted him a message,
Got your message and thanks. Pretty busy here, know you guys must be too. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Prentiss.
She read over her message several times and nodded her head. It was short, direct and to the point and 100% accurate. That should alleviate any concerns Hotch had. She hit the "send" button and set aside her phone to settle down to her work.
Hotch rubbed his eyes wearily. The UNSUB was escalating in violence at an alarming rate. The Mason family had been absolutely butchered. Even his own team who had seen so much, had been badly shaken by the carnage. Reid and JJ had to even excuse themselves and it took all of Hotch's control to stay in that house and go through all the rooms.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair and felt himself once again missing the calming presence of a certain brunette. The team was off in her absence. He knew had she been here, Prentiss would have offered solace and comfort to each of them. She would have taken the obviously shaken JJ and Reid, reassuring them that their reactions didn't make them any less of a professional. She would have calmed Morgan's anger and probably saved him some bruised knuckles received when he punched a metal filing cabinet earlier. She would have spoken to an unusually quiet Dave Rossi who had simply sighed and stared off into the distance trying to not visualize the dismembered bodies of the Mason twin girls.
And for Hotch? Her simple presence would have soothed him and he would have drawn strength from her being there. Her quiet questions and focus to get them back on track would have centered him and helped him concentrate on the case before them so they could find this animal much more quickly and put him away for good.
A blinking light on his phone indicated to him a text message had come in. Hotch fished it out of his pocket and he looked at the sender's name with eager eyes. Suddenly things seemed a bit brighter. This was the first contact he's had with Prentiss in over a week.
Got your message and thanks. Pretty busy here, know you guys must be too. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Prentiss.
It was a perfectly proper message. Correct. Short. Professional. But Hotch couldn't feel as though it was cold. Impersonal. A moment ago he had felt buoyed up at the prospect that she had contacted him and now he couldn't help but feel a little deflated. He debated calling her again and decided not to. It was late in DC right now and if she was sleeping, he didn't want to disturb her.
But he wanted to hear from her again. Hotch decided to reply with a text of his own.
Good to hear from you. Please know you can contact me at any time. Come to me with any questions. All you need to do is ask. Hotch.
He looked at the message and thought it conveyed to her that his door was always open if she needed anything, that he could be someone she could turn to, reassure her of that fact. Hotch knew he failed her before with Matthew Benton, but he wanted to make sure she knew that would never happen again. He hit the 'send' button and then set aside his phone, ready to face the horrific pictures of the Mason family.
Emily heard the distinctive 'ping' of an incoming message on her phone. She saw she had a text and pulled it up. Hotch.
Good to hear from you. Please know you can contact me at any time. Come to me with any questions. All you need to do is ask. Hotch.
She scowled at the message. Really? Was he serious? Was he really trying to supervise her from 2,000 miles away? Did he think her judgment was that impaired?
A little voice in her head spoke up, Maybe he's just wants you to know you can rely on him.
Emily snorted at the voice. Aaron Hotchner made it clear recently he thought her judgment was impaired and her insights and contributions weren't worth all that much. All he was doing now was trying to micro-manage her from Montana because he had questions about her abilities. Emily sighed and threw her phone across the table, not wanting to deal with Aaron Hotchner and his annoying text messages.
"I hate those things too," a voice said from the door.
Emily whipped around to see Gibbs standing there holding a paper bag and a drink carrier with two coffees. He came into the room and Emily detected the heavenly scent of hot food. Her stomach rumbled again. She had hit the vending machines earlier and gotten a cup of horrible coffee and a candy bar for her dinner. She had been prepared to be satisfied with that until she went home, but it looked like Gibb was riding to the rescue.
Gibbs' glance told him that Emily Prentiss had been busy and not with just tossing cell phones around. The whiteboard McGee had found for her was covered with her neat handwriting, divided up into eight columns where characteristics of each victim and crime were listed in the corresponding columns. Photos of the crime scenes had been tacked up on another board that was already in the conference room and the files were spread out in neat stacks on the table, a legal pad filled with Emily's notes.
"You've been busy," Gibbs commented as he set the bag and coffee down on the table. He handed one of the hot drinks to her. "Don't drink that swill from the vending machines. It'll eat through your stomach."
"Thanks for the warning," Emily said as she saluted him with her cup. She took a sip from the cup he gave her and her eyes lit up in appreciation. It was rich and strong with just a touch of cream and sugar. "How did you know how I liked my coffee?"
"You struck me as a cream and sugar coffee drinker," Gibbs replied with a smirk.
"Close. I usually use Splenda."
"That'll eat through your stomach too. Stop using that crap."
"There is nothing wrong with Splenda," Emily protested.
"If you like crap," Gibbs replied as he took two boxes out of the paper bag. He looked at her. "You're not one of those vegetarians are you?"
"No," Emily smiled, knowing this man was strictly meat and potatoes. She could do meat and potatoes and right now she was so hungry that she could probably devour a whole cow. She sniffed appreciatively and recognized the scent. "Cheeseburgers and fries?" There was a note of excitement in her voice.
Gibbs grinned and handed her one of the boxes. "It's from Henry's Hamburger Shack on 16th. Best burgers in DC."
"I'm not familiar with it," Emily replied as she opened up the box and inhaled the heavenly scent.
"Not many people are. It's a little hole in the wall place. I only know about it because my old partner introduced me to it."
For a few minutes they ate in an easy silence. Gibbs was not a talkative man and Emily didn't mind having a few minutes to eat. She didn't feel any awkwardness with Gibbs or the need to make small talk. It was as if they had known each other for years and were comfortable with the silences.
"Make much headway?" Gibbs asked nodding towards the whiteboard.
"I'm still sorting through the first seven cases," Emily replied. "But I should be done in a couple of hours."
"No, you're going home as soon as you finish eating. It's past 1 am."
"Is it?" Emily asked in surprise. She glanced at her watch and saw it was actually 1:10 am. "Wow, I had no idea."
"You aren't tired?" Gibbs asked, tilting his head and regarding her closely.
"I've been on vacation the past week," she replied as she cleaned up her meal, packing away the debris in the box and holding out her hand for Gibbs' box. She dumped both into the trash can and took another sip of her coffee. "I think I got caught up on my rest."
"Vacation wasn't your idea, was it?" Gibbs asked causally. "You were told to take time."
Emily froze for a split second, but long enough for Gibbs to see the reaction. He could see her debating whether to tell him the truth or brush it off.
"No," she finally said as she sat back down, the coffee cup cradled in her hands, warming them with its slowly dissipating heat. "There was a case that I got too involved in and Hotch, Agent Hotchner, my supervisor thought it was best if I took some time off after it."
"But not you?" Gibbs' voice was calm, reassuring.
Emily worried her lip and shook her head. "It was actually something I brought to the BAU. An old friend of mine had died and there were some suspicious circumstances surrounding his death. Hotch gave me some leeway on it, but solid evidence was hard to come by and he started getting pressure from his superiors and above."
"Above?"
"Political pressure." Emily gave him a wan smile. "DC Metro wasn't happy, some politically connected people, the Italian government."
"Wow, you pissed off the Italian government?" Gibbs arched an eyebrow at her.
"The Vatican got involved too," Emily quirked her lips at him.
"Well, if you're going to piss people off, make sure you piss off the right ones," Gibbs grinned at her. "So what happened?"
She eyed him for a moment, uncertain how he would react to the story but decided to tell him lest he get details from other channels via the agency gossip grapevine. Gibbs listened silently as she succinctly gave him the details surrounding Matthew's death, the investigation and the eventual resolution. She glossed over the details of how her teammates reacted and how she had felt by their lack of support, but Gibbs did not miss the omissions. He may not be a profiler, but Gibbs had a pretty good sense of people.
"This Hotchner didn't back you up?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"He did what he could," Emily replied. Mad as she was at Hotch, she felt an automatic need to defend him and the rest of her team. "He has to deal with all the politics and the relationships. He has a pretty tough river to navigate."
Gibbs merely grunted. "But you were right though. This Silvano was killing people."
"He was performing exorcisms that put so much stress on these men's bodies that it wound up killing them. So yeah, you could say I was right."
And for being right, he puts you on leave, as if you're the one with a problem, Gibbs thought to himself. He knew the hazards of someone getting to close to a case, having it be personal, but from what little Emily had said and hadn't said, it seemed her team provided very little comfort and help to her when she needed it the most. Except for one person she mentioned several times, a Rossi. But Gibbs knew there were quite a few more people on that BAU team, not to mention Hotchner was her supervisor. He should have had her back. That's what Gibbs would have done. If any one of his people felt so strongly that something was wrong and a crime had been committed, he would have backed them all the way.
But then again, Gibbs wasn't a political animal and from what little Emily and Fornell had said about Hotchner, it was obvious the FBI man was. Gibbs hated politics and didn't have much use for those who played around in it or let it rule their actions like it sounded like this Hotchner may have, though he seemed to have changed his mind at the last minute.
"You mad at Hotchner? That the reason why you're avoiding his phone calls?" Gibbs asked quietly.
Emily felt a flare of irritation. "I am not avoiding his calls and I'm not mad at him. Right now we're both busy with our separate cases. I don't see what any of this has to do with the investigation."
Gibbs shrugged. "Just like to know who I'm working with."
"I think you know all you need to know about me, sir." Even though he had only known Emily for a short period of time, Gibbs knew that "sir" was her way of insulting him.
"Do you have any issues with my performance so far, sir?" Emily asked in an arch tone. When Gibbs shook his head she continued. "Then I think we should limit ourselves to just this investigation."
He had touched a very sore spot and with anyone else, he probably would have let it go, but he found Emily Prentiss too intriguing to simply brush it aside. From what he observed today, he had no doubts about how good of an investigator she was. Once she had absorbed the case files, he would see how she did as a profiler. But beyond the agent, Gibbs wanted to know about the woman he had seen intriguing little glimpses of throughout the day. Even her reticence to talk about issues she had with her supervisor and maybe other teammates both frustrated and drew him closer to her. Here he was, an outside party who was lending a sympathetic ear to a potential bitch and moan fest about unreasonable colleagues and bad bosses she wasn't rising to it. In fact, she was defending them instead of giving some safe, bland answer. Gibbs liked that discretion and that loyalty, though he wondered if it might be misplaced. That was one thing he wanted to find out and learn more about this lovely woman.
"So, what did you find out at the construction sites?" Emily asked, bringing their conversation squarely back to the investigation.
"We found the original murder site."
"You did?" she asked excitedly, perking up. She grabbed a pen and paper. "Okay, what did you find out?"
"No, go home, Emily, it can wait until tomorrow."
"What? No, I mean it's so fresh, let's go over it now."
Gibbs stood up and helped her out of her chair. "Go home. I've already sent the rest of the team home and I'm leaving too. We can get a fresh start tomorrow."
Before Emily knew it, Gibbs had helped her into her coat and hustled her into the elevator. She must be more tired than she thought or he wouldn't have gotten her out of the conference room so quickly and easily. He walked her to her car and made sure it she started it and was pulling away before he headed over to his own vehicle, a truck, parked just a few spaces over. He pulled up behind her as she waited for the guard to raise the gate and she gave him a little wave which she saw him return in her rearview mirror before they split apart and headed in different directions.
By the time Emily had reached her apartment, it was almost 2:00 am. She checked her answering machine and saw there were several messages. She listened to them as she slipped off her shoes and coat.
"Hey Em, its JJ," the first message played. "I hear Strauss assigned you to a consult with NCIS. Hope that's going okay. God, can I just say that Pen and I really miss you. This one is really bad Em and we just really wish you were here with us. Hope everything is going okay and when you get a chance, give us a call. We miss you!"
The second message was from Morgan. "Hey Prentiss, hope they're treating you well over there at NCIS. Uh, just wanted to call and see if you were in yet. We caught a bad one out here in Montana. I mean, a really bad one. Could really use some of that calm, smart insight from my partner now. Anyway, hope things are going okay for you and you let me know if those Navy boys aren't treating you right. Got to protect my favorite brunette. Night girl."
Rossi's gruff tones came on next. "Hey kiddo, just checking up and seeing how you're doing. And yes, I did admit I'm checking up on you. I'm the old guy in the group so I get some leeway for doing and saying stuff like that. Anyway, count your blessings you're not here dealing with this sadistic bastard we're trying to find, but I will admit, we all miss you…especially Hotch. Yeah, I said Hotch, though you probably don't believe me, but he does, Emily. I think he's feeling guilty for what went down between you two during Matthew's investigation. Just cut him some slack, kiddo. He does care and he means well, but he's in a bad spot and hasn't had a whole lot of experience showing he cares. Anyway, call one of us when you get a chance. We all miss you and want to know you're doing okay."
"Hey Emily, its Spence," Reid's higher pitched voice was a distinct contrast to Rossi's. "Just checking in to see if you're doing okay. We heard Strauss sent you on a consult with NCIS. Hey, did you know NCIS really was originally the Office of Naval Intelligence and was tasked with collecting information on the characteristics and weaponry of foreign vessels, charting foreign passages, rivers, or other bodies of water, and touring overseas fortifications, industrial plants, and shipyards? It's actually just a little older than the FBI. Anyway, I hope things are going well with the consult, we uh, caught a bad one here in Montana. Not that they aren't all bad, but this is really bad." Spencer's voice too on a plaintive note. "I miss you, Emily. Even with Garcia here, it's not enough to distract Derek. Well, I hope I get to talk to you soon."
The last message was from Garcia. "My vision! I hope those hot Navy guys are treating you well? I saw a picture of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Hot in an older professor kinda way. I wish you were here because maybe Hotch wouldn't have dragged me out here to get a front row seat of the sicko du jour. I have one request of you my Lovely Dark Lady, call the Boss Man. I think he's missing you and he's not happy about this NCIS consult which means he's being even more moody than normal. So just call and ease his mind a little, okay Sugar Plum? Garcia out!"
Emily had to smile a little at the messages and she wondered if they all collude to call her today or if they each snuck off to make the phone call. However, she was bone tired and it was far too late to call them, despite the time difference. She also knew that as soon as she called, she would be sucked into a discussion about the case and right now, she just didn't feel like talking about an UNSUB that wiped out entire families. While murder was abhorent to her, no matter the victim, she felt some measure of relief that she wasn't looking at any dead children on this NCIS case. She settled for a couple of quick text messages to make sure they weren't worrying about her and not focusing on their case. The sooner they solved it, the less victims and the sooner they can get back home.
JJ, late night. Will try to call when things are calmer. Hang in there.
Morgan, thanks for the call. But be nicer to Reid or I'll have to kick your ass when I see you next.
Dave, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. And Hotch and I have communicated.
Reid, I miss you too, and don't worry about Derek. I'm sure he'll leave you alone because he needs to concentrate on the case.
Pen, I'm fine and don't worry about Hotch. He's just being intense because of the case.
She hesitated wondering if she should reply to Hotch's text. Rossi and Garcia had both urged her to call him saying he appeared worried, but she suspected he was really more annoyed that Strauss had gone behind his back and assigned his agent to a consult without talking with him first. She settled for a neutral response to him:
Thanks. But I'm fine. Things going well here. Prentiss.
She sighed, exhaustion slamming into her body. She made sure her phone was charging, undressed, washed her face and brushed her teeth before crawling into bed. She was so tired that she dropped off to sleep immediately after setting her alarm. Emily drifted off to sleep to dream of blue eyes and dark ones.