Chapter Six: Trapped in a Blizzard
(Three kisses from Morgan for reviews. Yay new chapter. I need to post the chapter for my other story but I'm just not sure how to do it. Oh well, I'll figure it out. Now without further ado, next chapter! I don't own criminal minds, its characters, not any of the music in this story. I only own my OC and the scenarios I create. Enjoy!)
Marissa's POV:
That was definitely NOT a pen in his lap. It felt more like a baseball bat. Good God he's huge. My eyes met his and I could see just how much my little performance had affected him. "S-sorry..." I stood quickly and returned to my seat, looking down and trying to tame the burning between my thighs by thinking of anything but the man across from me. Kittens, eyelash curlers, I really should get a pet, maybe a turtle. Do birds have thoughts. Who thought up condoms... No bad topic. I practically fell don the stairs in my hurry to get off the plane when we landed. "You alright Wayne?" I could hear the laughter in Rossi's voice as he caught me. "Fine, why?" I asked, my tone rushed and embarrassed as I righted myself. "Because you seem to be very clumsy today, isn't that right Reid?" My face burned bright red as I looked at Dr. Reid. He was frowning, his long brown curls falling to hide his cheeks. "F-forgive me... Just nervous about the case I guess..." I stammered, staring at Reid. Look at me... Please... My mind screamed in agony as he brushed past Rossi and I on the stairs, took his things, and rushed over to the car. I felt sick as I watched him go. "Don't worry Marissa, he's just embarrassed. He'll get over it" Rossi's warm voice flooded my hollow ears. I whispered in reply, my voice cracking as if I were on the verge of tears, "I hope so..."
Spencer's POV:
I could smell her perfume as we drove over to the hotel. The problem was she wasn't even in the same car. Her scent clung to my nostrils like spider web, intoxicating me, and keeping me awkwardly solid. I kept my briefcase on my lap and stared out the window, avoiding thoughts of her by rereading a Latin novel, that I had memorized recently, in my head. "So pretty boy got the lucky fall eh?"
"What're you talking about Morgan?"
"The hot intern landing in your lap." I frowned and focused on the turning pages in my mind. "Oh come on Reid I'm just teasing you man." Morgan clapped a hand down on my shoulder and laughed. I offered a weak chuckle in reply before turning back to the window and rubbing my shoulder. Peperit mulier, ut et a se ad moechos suos sub lunam, eam stimulet et confirmet ad tactum eius in inferno non ceditis ignibus passionem suam. leniter curvis omnibus eius amplexus, in omni plaga in lumbis suis, ut adducerent eos ad magis completum. exclamaverunt autem et amor in caelum et coram deum vere simus impliciti. Shit that's a mating ritual for nymphs. Why is everything in my head useless at moments like this? I sighed heavily and tried to let my mind go blank, but my brain doesn't listen to me at moments like this of course. Images of Marissa, her breasts spilling out of her corset as her hips swayed to the beat of a song, flooded through my mind. Then her face, the dead look in her eyes as she lay scattered across the table. Oh God not that! I quickly steered my thoughts elsewhere, and was thankfully interrupted by us pulling up in front of the hotel. I hurried out of the car and breathed a sigh of relief. At least I'll be safe in my room. "Everybody listen up," Hotch walked out of the hotel, a stern look on his face. "There's was a mix up with the hotel so we have to double up on rooms. I have your room assignments. Morgan and Garcia. Prentice and Blake. Reid and Wayne. And Rossi with me. Head upstairs and unpack. You have thirty minutes before we leave for the station." My jaw dropped. "No arguments, we don't have time Reid. Just get upstairs" I snapped my mouth closed and frowned. This is gonna be hell.
Marissa's POV:
Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit. I couldn't believe the words that rang in my ears. I scuttled awkwardly around the room, avoiding eye contact as I unpacked my suitcase. Same room... At least there's two beds... But still, same room... Same bathroom... I could feel my face heating up as we both shuffled about. Clean thoughts... Breathe... Puppies... Glitter... Ben Afflict is gonna totally suck as batman... I need to get some more toothpaste... I'm almost out... Channing Tatum's abs... I wonder what Reid looks like shirtless... Dammit no no no... Bad topic... How bout a cookie. Let's think of cookies... Cookies are innocent enough. Plus I'd love to get a bite of Dr. Reid's cookies eventually, and... What the hell is wrong with me!? I'm not some hormonal teenage girl. I'm a grown-ass woman. I struggled to keep my mind clear of naughty thoughts as I unpacked. I heard him sigh behind me and I risked a glance. He was staring straight at me as I bent over to put something in a lower drawer. I stood slowly, "look I know we got off to a rough start. I just... I want to apologize for being such a bitch to you." He stayed silent, his face carefully neutral. "I... I just... I was so nervous... My grandfather told me so much about you... And you're just... So cute..." His eyes widened just a little at that. I looked down, my face burning, about to spill my guts to him when a knock at the door saved me. "Come on guys we gotta run." I grabbed my purse and raced out the door, keeping my head down as I shoved past Blake. "What's her deal?" I heard her ask as I sped off. I didn't hear Spencer's answer. I let myself breathe in the elevator finally. My skin felt sticky and uncomfortable, like it was too tight. I wanted so desperately to go home, because my resolve wasn't going to last a night of sharing a room with that man. Hell. I could barely last a fucking hour under those eyes. What would a night do to me? I took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened to the lobby. Calm, clear, concise, cold. Conceal what you're feeling, don't let him know. Clean thoughts. I chanted slowly to myself over and over, "cold, calm, conceal." I was not going to let myself fall apart over some guy. Rejection was imminent, I knew that much, so better to distance myself while I can. That way, when he tore my heart out, I'd at least be able to keep from crying. I slipped into the backseat of the SUV and sighed, turning my eyes out the window. Why'd you have to tell him you dummy? You've probably just ruined everything. They'll send you home and terminate your internship. I felt somebody slide into the car next to me, but I ignored them, losing myself in a downwards spiral of dark thoughts. But a gentle, almost feather-light, touch brought me back. I looked down at my leg and saw a small folded piece of paper. Unfolding it with shaking hands, I read it. In small, neat lettering it said, "I think you're cute too." I blushed and looked to my right. Spencer was staring out the window, or at least he looked like it, but he glanced at me when I turned, a faint smile on his lips. My cheeks flamed. Geez this man... Passing me notes like this is third grade and smirking like that. It makes me want to kiss him. How unfair. I quickly looked out my window, chewing nervously at my lip.
Spencer's POV:
She almost matches her hair, I chuckled inwardly. I can't remember ever having made a girl blush before. Usually I'm the one blushing... The idea of making somebody else blush was so refreshing and unusual that it made me smile. I wonder what else I could make her do. I pushed the thought aside. No no no no. Not going there. Focus on the case. I opened the file in my lap and read over the briefing again. Sixteen year old, Elaine Mackenzie had been found suspended from her living room ceiling fan by her hair, her wrists slashed in an X-shaped pattern. The blood had been allowed to pool beneath her. No forensic evidence, and the family hadn't heard anything at all that night. Somehow the killer had gotten inside, silenced Elaine, strung her up, and killed her. But her body showed evidence of defensive wounds and there were no ligature marks on her body anywhere. Also, a large amount of water was found in her lungs, yet it wasn't the cause of death as it was forced into her lungs post-mortem. It was a very unusual murder. Especially since human hair shouldn't be able to hold that kind of weight. I looked at the photos, the part I hated most. I always tried to put it off if I could. An eidetic memory worked against me here, because I never forget the photos. I could tell you the color of the eyes from the first case I ever worked, the cause of death from the fourteenth case, the victim preference from the thirty seventh case. I remembered it all and sometimes it really bothered me. But right now, no matter how disturbing, I needed the distraction, so I looked. Elaine's eyes were wide open, her clothes pristine... Wait... "Hey Hotch, how can her clothes be clean? There's no traces of blood on the long, white nightgown she's wearing in the photo. And according to her parents, Elaine slept in shorts and a t-shirt." I glanced at him. "The victim must've changed her clothes."
"But," Marissa spoke softly, "how did he avoid getting blood on a white dress? He couldn't have changed her while she was awake, could he?"
"No," I replied, "not without her making some kind of noise, or escaping."
"So how did he collect the blood?" I turned to look at her, "and why bother dumping it below the body?"
((I am so so so sorry about the lateness guys. I got caught up with work and a bunch of other stuff. So here it is, somewhere in the next chapter there will be some gruesomeness and possibly lemons, or fluff, or maybe heartbreak. Who knows. I'll try to post faster but sometimes I get caught up in other things. Anyways, read and review. I hope you enjoyed. Love you all!
Sincerely,
K-chan))