Thank you so much for your comment, SouthunLady! Pippa is roughly based on Dana Scully, Maura Isles, and Amy Santiago. Yes, she shares some characteristics with Emily, mainly because they have a very similar family background. I hope she is no carbon copy, though! The next chapters will see the development of their friendship and also differences between them.

This chapter is so long, I'll try to keep the next chapters at a more readable length! Please let me know what you think. Criticism is very welcome!

Chapter Three: Probation

"There is no greater danger than underestimating your opponent." – Lao Tzu

~o~

Pippa

~o~

It had been a lousy start. Back at the bar, he had seemed familiar but she hadn't been able to put a finger on it. Now, much too late, she remembered. About two years ago, when she had first visited the BAU, as a lowly guest, she had caught a glimpse of him in the bullpen, before Strauss had introduced her to Jason Gideon, the unit chief back then. And now her one night stand was her boss. Brilliant. And he quite evidently was ashamed and angry and took it all out on her. Pippa had waited for this job for nearly four years. She had applied again and again but Strauss had always rejected her, even going so far as to make her an independent profiling counsellor to appease her without angering her mother. Now she had finally made it to Quantico and screwed it up before she had even signed her contract. That had to be some sort of record. How to fuck up a situation badly — a guide by Pippa Hale. It was worse because she knew this was the job for her. Everything she had done from the age of 15 had led her here. She knew she could be good, excellent even. But now, she had started off on the wrong foot. Hotchner wouldn't take her seriously, although that was as much Strauss's fault as hers. She had to get on well with the rest of the team. Only that she was awful with social contacts.

"Hey, are you the newbie?" A man had just entered the bullpen. He was dressed in a windbreaker over a v-neck t-shirt and jeans; a nonchalant, casual combo that couldn't have been further from Hotchner's choking tie. There was no better word for this man but cool.

"Yeah," she smiled. Smiles were good. Smiles connected people.

"I'm Pippa Hale."

"Derek Morgan," he replied. "Welcome to the BAU."

"Thanks."

He was walking over to his desk which reminded her to find her own. That also she could start some small talk, usually not her strong suit.

"So, um, who worked here before me?"

Derek Morgan looked up from his coffee.

"Nobody, actually. But we've needed a fifth field agent for ages. Hotch almost smiled when he was informed that the budget had been boosted."

"He almost smiled?" she asked and Derek laughed.

"You don't know him yet but you'll find out. On a good day, he furrows his brow only twenty times."

"So, he's serious?"

Wasn't that a good thing? This was a serious job. But Pippa knew that among co-workers, jokes about superiors were strengthening the social ties and not usually made with bad intent.

"It's not that bad. If you get a smile from Hotch, you know you've made it."

Well, Pippa thought as she remembered Aaron's laugh, then I have definitely made it. Agent Hotchner hadn't graced her with even the hint of a smile so far, though.

"I'll be on the lookout then," she answered with a smile and busied herself with her desk. Derek Morgan seemed nice enough, exactly the kind of guy even someone as socially incompetent as herself could connect with.

The rest of the squad introduced themselves throughout the day. There was Emily Prentiss, the tough-as-nails field agent, JJ, in charge of public relations and professionally polite, Dr. Spencer Reid, even more awkward than Pippa but also much more intelligent, and Dave Rossi, the Dave Rossi, author of countless books and co-founder of the BAU.

Pippa knew both Rossi and Prentiss but from completely different contexts.

"Philomena?" Emily Prentiss was taken by surprise.

"Emily. Your mum and my mum used to work together."

"Long before they started climbing the social ladder, though. Where is your mum now?"

"DC. And yours?"

"Back for now. She's been in Ukraine for a while."

"What's she planning to do now?"

"Mum's taking a break from politics. Spends a lot of time with dad, you know, catching up, travelling."

"A sabbatical? Really? And I always thought Elizabeth was even more ambitious than my mother."

"She helped me with a case a while back. That really put things into perspective for her. But your mum's running for president, I heard?"

"Well, that's the talk. She never said anything. I don't think she'll try next time. So, still a little normality for her."

Emily looked at her sympathetically. "Did Strauss give you a hard time, too?"

"She was reluctant to allow my transfer to the BAU, yes."

"Politics suck. But now you're here."

"Yeah. I guess that's all that matters now."

"Well, I'm excited to work with you. Mum told me you were with the FBI, but I didn't make the connection until today."

"I'm excited, too. This is really the job I always wanted."

"Well, you'll love the lack of sleep, the crazy amount of sickos and the paperwork you'll eventually drown in." Emily had opened her bag and was pulling out five slim spring binders.

"Sounds like a dream." Pippa replied with a smile.

"You're just right here," Emily grinned. "Anyway, I gotta drop these off."

And she headed for Agent Hotchner's office. Pippa hoped for Emily that he was in a better mood now.

Rossi was fashionably late but greeted her kindly. She had been in the audience of several of his lectures but he didn't seem to remember. Understandlably, there had been a lot of people in the audience. A lot of women.

"Well, I'm looking forward to working with you, Agent Hale."

They all complied with her wish to be called Hale rather than Montmorency without any trouble. Pippa found herself warming up to Emily. She had a similar background and understood that being unvoluntarily involved in in the power plays of the rich and the ruthless didn't only come with advantages. While Pippa remembered that Emily had nearly severed ties with her mum years ago, they seemed to be much closer now. Emily was much warmer than before, too, almost chatty. She was comfortable here, that much was obvious. And although Pippa tried her best to do the same, to smile all the time and laugh about jokes and say interesting things, most of the time, she felt awkward and uncomfortable. It didn't help that her first days were quiet, without any case as a silver linging, without any work to throw herself into, without any opportunity to prove herself. For she knew, once she had helped solve a case, once the others saw that she was good at their job, they would accept her. She would feel as if she deserved this job. While Pippa wasn't busy at all, Agent Hotchner seemed to drown in paperwork, for her barely ever left his office and was the first one in and the last one out. She had stuck around once or twice, thinking that perhaps he wanted to clear the air, but he hadn't seized the opportunity and finally, she felt stupid staying at the BAU all night reading old case files and decided that it was her superior's call. He would elt her know if there was something he wnated to discuss. And in the meantime, she would focus on showing her worth. Finally, the opportunity presented itself about a week after her catastrophic first day at the BAU.

"Six girls have disappeared in Greenville, Maine, over the past three months. None of them has been found. Not even the site of their abduction is clear," JJ presented photos of the victims on the whiteboard and Pippa tried her best to memorise all the facts. 12-16 years old, no specific race, all of them athletic with long hair.

"Any indication that they're still alive?" Prentiss asked.

"No letters, no blackmail, nothing." JJ shook her head.

"So it's unlikely." Morgan stated.

He was right. If the last girl was lucky, she was still alive. But they had to be quick because with an UnSub like this, she wouldn't be alive for long.

"There's something different this time," JJ remarked and pushed another button. "This time he abducted two girls at once. Two friends, Stella Reno and Jemma Samirez. They were walking home together after cheerleader training."

"Agent Montmorency-Hale, what would you say? Who are we looking for?" Agent Hotchner asked casually. Her palms began to sweat. A test. She needed a second to sort through her thoughts, form a coherent picture.

"Male. Probably middle-aged. He targets sportive young girls. Five out of six were cheerleaders, all of them popular. He might have been shunned by popular kids during his own school days, mocked for his lack of athletic skills."

"That's possible," Hotch agreed without looking at her. "But we shouldn't focus too much on his adolescent life."

He sounded dismissive. Oh, God, no. She knew she could do this. She knew she had more than this.

"As a counter reaction, this man might have a job that requires him to stay physically fit, that allows him a certain authority without forcing him to uphold too much social contact." Her voice didn't tremble but she was nervous.

"Enlighten us, Agent Hale," Rossi said. "Why?"

"He swore he would never be mocked again, developed a profound sense of self-preservation. At the same time, he developed a deep hatred for the popular kids at school, the athletes. He is awkward in the company of women, probably because of a hurtful rejection in his youth and an unstable female role model, probably his mother or step mother. A man who is so profoundly uncomfortable in the presence of women would decide to shun human company altogether, at least as far as it makes him feel uncomfortable. He doesn't want to relive his youth. He has a power complex and takes it out on athletic young girls, girls that are attractive but perform very differently in school. So he probably doesn't work in the school's environment and doesn't stalk his victims. An active job that keeps him outside where he can meet these girls, follow them to remote areas without attracting attention to abduct them."

"What would you suggest is the stressor?" Rossi asked, now clearly interested. Pippa was beginning to feel more at ease. She knew the ropes. She only had to remain calm.

"This would be pure guesswork," she admitted.

"Then fire away."

"Either the death of his mother or another hurtful rejection from a woman."

"Isn't that a bit...thin?" Hotchner asked. As I said, pure guesswork.

"It is a guess, sir."

"You make some good points, agent," Rossi allowed. "He is probably working as a police officer, a fireman, a ranger. Someone who invokes a sense of security in his victims."

"He's also becoming sure of himself, he has abducted two girls at once now." Derek Morgan noted.

"It points to the development of a narcissistic personality disorder," Dr. Reid followed up.

"The time between the abductions gets shorter," Emily Prentiss contributed.

Was that how they worked? Bouncing ideas off each other until they had a profile?

"But not following a pattern," Pippa added, perhaps a little too eager, heart aflutter. "It is bloodlust that drives him rather than well-planned revenge."

"I don't see it," Prentiss said casually. "Why?" They were expecting an explanation. Once again, her palms were sweaty. Did her theory make sense? It was only a theory, truly, based on probability and patterns. There were no absolutes in profiling.

"Someone who is driven by revenge wants to give his murders meaning. Either by choosing the victims carefully, by displaying the victims carefully or planning the murders carefully. He needs to send a message: This is what happens because of you. But this man doesn't send a message. He believes himself to be much smarter than he is."

Prentiss nodded. "Convinced," she smiled. Pippa exhaled, perhaps a little too loudly.

"Wheels up in 30," SSA Hotchner rose from his chair. "Do you want to come along, Agent Montmorency-Hale?"

"Yes, sir." Why else had she joined the unit?

"Do you have a bag ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Agent Prentiss will show you the way to the airport."

Soon enough, Pippa found herself in the BAU's jet. It was elegantly furnished but practical, with tables and long rows of seats where one could stretch out and take a nap.

No one did that, though.

"This is the file. All of you, get acquainted with the case. Morgan, Prentiss, Hale, you will question the victims' parents, go into the victims' rooms and create a profile. Victimology is important, although the victims seem random at first.

Reid, you and Rossi go and pay a visit to the two local high schools. I'll ask one of the officers to take me to the probable crime scenes. JJ will schedule a press conference. We will need results around five o'clock local time. If we're right about the UnSub's MO, he will try to abduct another girl tomorrow night. It is reasonable to assume that he gets rid of the previous victim prior to the following abduction."

There was of course the chance that all of the girls were still alive, albeit a small chance. But his argumentation made sense from an economic point of view: They had to assume the worst in order to save as many lives as possible.

Two hours for victimology and a complete profile were more than utopian. Even if there were five of them, profiling took time. But then, Pippa swallowed. Time the two girls that were likely still alive did not have. When she had been an FBI counsellor, there had been stressful cases but usually, it was about lives that had already been taken, not about lives that were on knife's edge.

The questioning of the parents was terrible. They had split up due to the time pressure and Pippa had drawn the parents of the latest victims. The Sachez family had been in grief beyond tears. Jemma's room had been exceptionally orderly, the room of a girl who had made plans for her future, who evidently dreamt of becoming a doctor later, who hoped that an athletic scholarship would be her ticket out of Greenville.

The Reno family was quite different. The father was absent, at work, Mrs Reno said with a frown. He was probably at the bar, judging by the empty bottles in the kitchen.

"How is Stella like?" Pippa asked, careful to use the present tense. "Does she have big plans for her future?"

"Big plans, yeah," Mrs Reno said distastefully. "Got her bonnet full o' bees, Stella. She wants to save the world. Study biology. As if we needed anuther wacko tha' tells us it's all gonna melt. That's wah' ice does, innit?"

"So she is ambitious? Cares about the environment?"

So far, her original thesis had been correct. The girls had little in common but their athletic ambitions.

"Always up in the woods, running."

"Gander's Wood?"

"Yeah. Brought back a hurt bird once. But I don't want no disease." Mrs Reno crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Where did she bring the bird?" This could very well be a lead. Serial killers often practised with animals, pets or birds especially.

"Back to where she found it. Some ranger took care of it."

"Do you remember a name?"

"Nah. Never said it, either."

Jemma's parents had not mentioned the woods but the two girls were friends. If Stella went up there regularly, it was probably that Jemma had accompanied her occasionally.

"When was that?"

"Two days before she disappeared."

"Before she was kidnapped, you mean."

"I mean what I mean, missy. You done?"

"Yes, thank you, Mrs Reno. I'll see myself out."

On the way to the car, Pippa called Penelope Garcia. She was about the only person Pippa felt truly comfortable around.

"Hello, sugar, what can I do for you?"

It was impossible not to like her.

"I need a list of all the rangers that work in Gander's Wood, Greenville, Maine. Could you – "

"Cross-check for prior convictions? I've got you covered, girl."

"Focus on vandalism. Probably animal cruelty. And those crimes would be between ten and thirty years in the past."

"You'll get a list in fifteen."

"You're seriously the best."

"You're wise to say so." Garcia hung up.

Indeed, when Pippa reached the precinct, the list was already there, already printed and in the hands of SSA Aaron Hotchner.

"What's this?"

"A list of all rangers in Gander's Wood with a criminal record in animal cruelty or vandalism."

"Why?"

"Because Stella Reno spent a lot of time up there. Two of our victims have sometimes walked through the wood on the way home. Jemma Sanchez is Stella's friend, it's probable she went with her. Stella had rescued a harmed bird and had delivered it to a ranger there. With her history, it's likely that she went back to check up on the bird. It's possible that she brought Jemma. The UnSub was not prepared for two girls, then he managed to overwhelm both of them. Now he feels empowered and will speed up his MO."

"You think."

"Yes."

"Agent, there's a very clear difference between a profile and deductive psychology. I didn't think I would have to tell you."

That was deeply unfair. She hadn't even tried to create a profile. Everything so far had been police work, not profiling. She didn't say that, though. Hotchner was angry already, probably because she had stolen some of Garcia's precious time without anything to show for it.

"I am still waiting for Agents Morgan and Prentiss to create a thorough profile, sir." She kept her voice even. Hotchner shouldn't know how uncomfortable he made her.

Hotchner nodded, slowly. Once again, it struck Pippa how different he was now. He truly looked as if he had forgotten how to smile, as if he just plugged in the charger each night instead of going to bed. There was nothing in him that reminded her of the man in the bar, sensitive, sad, funny.

"Good," he said. "Once they're back, work on a profile. We have to present it in an hour."

~o~

Hotch

~o~

He had been wrong about the Montmorency girl. Most of her observations were dead on, although her structure and methods were different from theirs. She focused on psychology more than on a general profile but that was of course her specialty. She would learn to work in tandem with the team soon enough. At least she was eager.

"She's not bad," Prentiss smiled as they stood at the small airport in Maine, waiting for the car. Montmorency stood a few feet away, engrossed in a conversation with Reid. She had stuck to dresses so far, Hotch had noticed, which had surprised him. Today, the dress was conservative, grey with long sleeves and a high neckline. She wore it with heeled black ankle boots that Hotch doubted she could run in. She was no field agent, that much he already knew. But perhaps she would prove a decent profiler, at least.

"Nah," Morgan disagreed. "She doesn't have it."

"What's 'it'?"

"The grit. I mean, look at her. She dresses like an office sitter. I don't say she's not smart, but we've already got Reid. We need someone in the field. She wears her gun on a dress belt."

He wasn't wrong.

"What about you, Hotch? What's your first impression?"

"I think we'll have to wait. She hasn't shown us everything she's got yet."

Determined, single-minded, resourceful. Philomena Montmorency-Hale would not give up anytime soon.

He had assigned her door duty, thinking that he was catering to her talents. Observational skills she had plenty. What she still lacked was the big picture view that came with working on a case with other profilers, that came with working on serial homicides or kidnappings, in this case. She was still focussing on the personal information she had found out but that wasn't necessarily bad. The information did fit in the bigger picture and once Prentiss and Morgan had come back, they had worked on a profile together. It wasn't complete by the time JJ opened the press conference, but it was a start. A good start. They had called the ranger's office and found out who had patrolled the area on the day of Reno and Sanchez's disappearance. Right now, they were on their way to Josh Davenport's home.

"Josh Davenport, you're under arrest."

Quite foreseeably, Davenport ran. But he was no idiot. He lunged over a backyard fence and made for the woods behind him, uneven territory that their cars couldn't follow him to.

Morgan was close on his feet and the rest followed Morgan in his pursuit. Hotch had focused on Derek so much that he had lost track of Hale for a moment. Suddenly, she came running from the left. And she was fast. She reached Davenport before Morgan and pushed him to the ground forcefully.

"Josh – Davenport, you –'re under – arrest." She was completely out of breath. She is trying to outdo herself. For a moment, Hotch allowed himself to be distracted. She was the newest addition to a close-knit team, had settled down for the first time in her life. She was friendless, inexperienced and probably acutely aware of the general bias against her. And the unit chief that should have helped her get acquainted with the team, that should have shown her the ropes, had turned out as a one night stand she had apparently had no interest in meeting again. Although Hotch had done his utmost to remain professional after their fateful second encounter in his office a week ago, he hadn't talked to her privately since then. He would have to. After this case, he would. After this case, it's always after this case. But then there's another and another and another. And Jack will say his first words, walk his first steps and you won't be here, Aaron. Hayley had been right. Of course she had. But he hadn't changed.

Morgan had helped Montmorency up and was now pushing Davenport down the hill to the van with her.

"Wouldn't have thought you could run in these shoes." Morgan nodded at her heeled ankle boots. No high heels by any means but no running shoes either.

"That's kind of what I'm counting on." Hotch hadn't seen a smile on her face since their first meeting. It had been easier to forget about Pippa when all he saw was the agent, so straight-faced that even Rossi had commented on her seriousness. When she smiled, however, as she did now, it transformed her face. She was not prettier or anything like that. It wasn't a quantifiable change but somehow, it reached something in him. Probably only because that was what he had seen first.

"We're running out of time," Hotch reminded his team. "Rossi will sit with the suspect. Perhaps you can get something out of him, Dave."

If Mntmorency had hoped to conduct the interview, she didn't show it. She was in an SUV with Rossi, Reid and Prentiss. Probably, she was quite content that way. Hotch had noticed that she had warmed up to the latter two. Prentiss had experienced similar problems when she had joined the team five years ago and Reid was naturally awkward when it came to social contacts, which probably made them more sympathetic choices than Morgan or Rossi or himself.

Morgan had followed his gaze. "Perhaps I was wrong," he allowed. "She could be a passable field agent."

She had been fast, decisive, and strong. Those were good qualities in a field agent. She would never match Morgan, who was a very skilled combatant and highly agile, nor could she compare to Prentiss, who was tough-as-nails and well trained in combat and self-defense from her days in anti-terrorism. But she was fighting fit and that was more than he had hoped for.

"Very possibly," he replied.

"She's really buttoned-up, though. Kinda reminds me of you," Morgan grinned.

"She'll thaw," JJ hadn't paid much attention to their conversation before, instead focusing on her phone but now she put it away.

"Captain Foster asks whether we captured Davenport."

"He'll find out in a minute." Hotch parked the car in front of the precinct.

But the good mood didn't last.

"Wasn't him." Rossi shook his head. "He was poaching, that's why he ran. Said he traded his shift with another ranger. Cartwright."

"If he heard about Davenport's arrest –" Reid started but Hotch interrupted him.

"Yes. So we have to tell the media we got the right guy. You got this, JJ?"

And while JJ told Greenville that their nightmare had ended, the rest of the team jumped back into the SUVs.

Eric Cartwright had awaited them. He fit the profile: slight of stature, with an arrogant smile and demeanour. And he wasn't running. He felt too secure to be scared. "How can I help you, officers?"

"You are wanted for questioning, sir."

It was clever of Reid not to startle him. As long as Cartwright felt in charge, he would overestimate himself. And sooner or later, he would slip up. It would have to be sooner, however. They were running out of time.

~o~

Pippa

~o~

This was her chance to do what she had come to the BAU for.

"May I interrogate Cartwright, sir?" Her heart was pounding in her ears.

"Do you think you can handle it?" Hotchner asked. "This suspect is all we have. If your interrogation doesn't go as planned, we might lose the girls."

"I am aware of what is at stake." He looked at her intensely. God, his eyes. They burned a hole right through her soul. She was glad he would never interrogate her. She would confess all kinds of sins.

"Good. You may go in then." Did he hope she would fail? No. He was confident that, even if she messed up, he would still get Cartwright to talk.

"First, I need a quick brushup." She shook out her hair. "And I need to know the names of the roads that go through the forest."

Pippa put on a thick layer of lipstick, then combed through her hair with her fingers while Penelope briefed her on the main roads.

"Alright," she nodded, "I'm good to go."

"Sir," Derek started, but Rossi put a hand on his arm and Hotch, too, stayed silent, only watched her go into the interrogation room. She couldn't allow herself the slightest slip up. She had trained for this half her life. She could do this. The lives of two girls were at stake. She had to.

"Mr Cartwright," she said, her voice slightly higher and thinner than usual, a breathless, excited sound, "I'm Philly Hale. Special Agent, I mean," she let out a nervous laugh and could see whatever respect there might have been vanish.

This man hated women and he loved feeling superior to them. He had abducted defenseless young girls, but he was scared of women, his ego was as fragile as a soap bubble. She would eat him for breakfast but first, she would have to disarm him.

The suspect looked at her with barely hidden annoyance.

"See," Pippa started, "you have been brought in for questioning. About the abductions of those girls in your hometown. Perhaps you've heard about them? I mean, they're not a big thing in the news, of course, but the locals…"

She broke off, allowing her sentence to linger.

"Anyway. Of course we don't suspect you of those murders, please, don't feel intimidated." She smiled. "If we did, I wouldn't even be allowed to interrogate you. I'm new, you see." She laughed again. "Still have to earn the respect of the team and so on. And, between the two of us, I'm not...I really don't have any experience. But the boss said I could practise with you."

Pippa adjusted her chair. Cartwright was angry, she could see the vein at his temple pulse, but she wasn't there yet. Not at all. Two girls were missing and angering him alone wouldn't help them.

"I understand you are one of the rangers in Gander's Wood?"

"Yes." Clipped vowel, strenuous speech. He was still wary.

"That must be such a challenging job. All those acres and acres and all alone all day."

"It is peaceful," Cartwright smiled.

"Peaceful. Yes, I agree. Well, until now, of course, with those poor girls abducted."

"Yes, it's terrible," Cartwright agreed.

Pippa leaned over to him. "You see, we already got him. The killer, I mean. Abductor. He's not especially bright, you know, because one of the girls, Jemma, managed to drop something in the woods. A velvet hair tie. So now we know where to look." Cartwright's hands tensed in his lap. Pippa knew that those watching from behind the mirror had seen it, too.

"But, the thing is, I have been tasked to map the area. It's just, I find maps so tiresome. There is always so much on them and I never really know how to hold them. Like, where is north even? So I figured, why not ask Ranger Cartwright? He knows the area better than anyone."

Cartwright leaned back again. Relaxed.

"That was clever of you," he said and smiled. It was a gruesome predator smile but Pippa smiled back.

"Thank you so much. I'm in big trouble if I don't do this properly. So, for one, you can help me with the road names, I'm terrible with names and unfortunately, the big guys around here took all the files with them when they set out to arrest that guy. It's only me here and the secretary and she's even worse than me. But we want to find the girls, of course. So, Jemma dropped her hair tie on one of those big roads, I think."

Relaxation.

Pippa wrinkled her nose, as if she was thinking. "Oh, no, sorry. That was where they found the car tracks. The hair tie was on one of the narrower paths. Somewhere off...Ugh. Finch Road? Is that a real name?"

"Sparrow," Cartwright supplied.

"Ah, no, that doesn't really ring a bell."

Cartwright was still relaxed. She was far off. Sparrow Lane was in the south west, where they had suspected the victims. If he was this relaxed, she was very far away. So she went to the north east instead.

"Redbird Road. I think that might be it. Do you know it?"

His shoulders tensed for the tiniest moment.

"I do. So that's where they found the hair tie?"

"Oh, no. I mean, that guy is probably quite dumb but not that dumb. We found it on one of those hiking paths."

She knew she had found out a rough location but scouting the area now, so close to dusk, would take forever. She could get more.

Cartwright said nothing.

"What I have wondered is, where could you hide two healthy, strong girls up there?"

"There are some cabins," Cartwright supplied. Pippa shook her hair to the other side.

"Ah, alright, I'll make a note. That sounds good. I mean, I knew there are some storm shelters, but let's face it, that would be quite foolish. You could probably hear those girls scream and they could escape, too. So the bosses think it is the bunker. The girls couldn't be heard there."

"It's quite obvious, though." Cartwright said.

"Yes, as I said, not the brightest candle. Better than a storm shelter, still. With those thin wooden doors."

"That wouldn't matter if the girls were gagged and the shelter was far away from the road. I think." And check.

"I'm still thinking about the cabins. Which part of the woods would be the most accessible by car? Or the least, just so that I can rule it out. For someone who is probably not very strong, who is scared, someone who has to get back to town as quickly as possible because he cannot face what he has done? Or she, of course. It could also be a woman."

This was the final straw.

Cartwright's mouth tensed. "The northeastern corner cannot be reached by car unless you really know where you're going and willing to take a risk. It's almost impossible to drive up there, with all those rocks and the slippery leaves. You need to be a damn good driver."

Pippa smiled. "I thank you for your cooperation, Mr Cartwright."

"When am I set free, then, sweetheart?" he joked.

Pippa smiled. "That depends on your belief system. But it's not looking good for you," she took her handcuffs from her belt and pushed Cartwright against the wall with full force, using his surprise, then clasped the steel around his hairy wrists.

"And don't call me 'sweetheart'."

When she left the interrogation room under Cartwright's curses, Derek and Spencer were waiting for her in the hall. Hotch wasn't there. Of course, two young girls needed to be rescued from a storm shelter between Redbird Road and the north eastern corner. Luckily, there was only one on the map.

Derek Morgan nodded approvingly.

"You've done well," he allowed. "Although at first, I thought they'd sent us some air headed idiot from Washington."

"So did he," Pippa smiled.

"You should come along. You saved these girls. You should be there when they are finally freed." Spencer Reid looked at his shoes as he talked to her.

"Aren't Hotchner and Rossi and Jareau already on the way?"

"JJ is preparing for the press conference," Reid explained.

"If I drive," Morgan grinned, "we'll be there before Hotch."

"Are you a damn good driver, then, Agent Morgan?" Pippa asked, referencing the words of the criminal that was locked in the interrogation room behind them.

"You have a sense of humour," he noted, and looked at Reid.

"You owe me five dollars," Reid said to Derek.

"I guess that's something you have to explain in the car. What about him?"

She gestured towards the iron door.

"He'll be brought to a holding cell." Morgan had started walking down the corridor already. "Come on, or you'll miss them."

Pippa and Spencer hurried along.

They did arrive at the storm shelter in record time but Hotchner and Rossi were already there. Pippa saw the girls, wrapped in blankets, sipping water slowly. They seemed unharmed but of course they weren't. There were wounds that would never heal, that would never even scar.

"You've done well," Agent Rossi said in his calm voice, as if he had just made a remark in the weather.

"Two girls will live. That is the only thing that matters," Pippa replied.

"You have the right mindset. You'll get along with Hotch in no time."

"I fear you overestimate me."

"He hates the politics that come with his job," Rossi explained. "And because of your family, he thinks you are a part of that. Don't worry. He'll come round soon enough."

"Thank you, sir."

"Anytime, Pippa."

He left her to talk to the girls but Pippa remained. The two were overwhelmed enough as it was. And Rossi knew what to say, that she trusted in.

"Happy?" Derek brushed against her arm.

"For now." She smiled.

"Why not savour the feeling and have a drink? You never forget your first." There was a grin in his voice although Pippa didn't look at him to check.

"I think I'll savour the feeling while organising my desk."

"You really are a lot of fun, huh?"

"Now you get why they sent me to Backwater Virginia."

Derek laughed,

"See you tomorrow, Hale."

"See you tomorrow, Morgan."

It was getting dark quickly now but Pippa waited until the girls had been picked up, until the crime scene had been profiled and examined. There was enough DNA to link Cartwright to the last four murders and this abduction.

Finally, Hotchner walked over to her in the near dark.

"You did well today."

"Thank you, sir.."

"I know—" he started but Rossi approached and he fell silent.

"Back to the headquarters?" Rossi asked and Hotch nodded.

The drive was short and silent. With Morgan or Jareau there, Pippa thought, it would have been more relaxed. She was acutely aware of the observations her superiors were making but she couldn't help it. There was nothing she wanted to say and nothing that came to her mind was clever or astute, so she stayed silent.

They climbed up the stairs to the bullpen silently, too, then the two men made for their offices and left her to her desk. She knew that Hotchner wanted to talk to her without Rossi there and so, she stayed, occupying herself with writing a meticulous protocol of her interrogation, as it was usually requested. Rossi finally left but not without saying good night.

"You should go home, too, you know? You need a clear head tomorrow."

"I know. It's just a lot to take in. And I want to finish this protocol. Then I'll go home."

"Protocol, huh?" He smiled. "Perhaps you will get along with Hotch much better than I thought." There was some hidden meaning, something he thought but didn't say but then he wished her a good night and her opportunity for a question was over.

She finished off the protocol and then walked up to Hotchner's office, the place where he had humiliated her...where she had humiliated him.

He looked up, half fearful, half determined. He had expected her.

"My protocol, sir." She put it on his desk.

Surprised, he took the sheet of paper and looked at it, studied both sides intently.

"There is no need to write these immediately although of course —"

"Protocols are like oranges. They are better when they are fresh," she finished the sentence.

"They still teach that, huh?"

"Good night, sir," she said. If he hadn't gathered the courage to approach the topic now, there was no reason for her not to go to her hotel bed. She was almost in the door when he finally spoke.

~o~

Hotch

~o~

It was foolish. He knew he needed to apologise but he didn't know how to phrase it, his regret, his shame, his...When she was about to leave, the words had still not come to him but he needed to say something.

"I have been very harsh to you." He started. She turned around.

"Not at all, sir. You were very assertive, which, in a man, is never taken for arrogance," she replied matter-of-factly.

She was completely right.

"I have to apologise for my earlier assessment. I thought I was level-headed but you caught me off guard, something only very few people manage. I was ashamed, insecure and angry and took it out on you. That was unfair, unprofessional and sexist. I'm deeply sorry. It will not happen again."

"No. I'm certain it will not." It was not a threat. She had a sober, almost cold way of making an assessment. There was something else implied, too. They would never again venture beyond what was appropriate for a subordinate and her superior agent. Beyond what was appropriate for members of a team. And Hotch was almost disappointed.

"I promise I will not question your judgment openly again," she said, acknowledging her own misstep.

"Better not promise to go against such an integral part of your character, Agent," he said with a smile.

She smiled back, conceding. "I will try to phrase my concerns more respectfully, then."

"I'm looking forward to working with you," he said and found that it was the truth.

"See you tomorrow, Agent Hotchner."

"See you tomorrow, Agent Hale."

Her eyes lit up when he referred to her by her preferred last name.

They walked down to the garage together, in a not quite awkward silence, she then made for the eastern exit. Had she walked to work? Where did she even live?

"Can I give you a lift?" he asked, hoping she would decline, and she shook her head.

"I'm taking a cab, thank you very much. Sooner or later, I will have to get a car, though."

Better not tempt fate, he thought.

He watched her walk through the heavy iron door in her dress and boots, untangling her bun on the way out. This would prove much more difficult than he had anticipated and for altogether very different reasons than he had originally assumed. Philomena Montmorency. He had been mistaken. Pippa Hale. He would never be able to call her that, of course. Pippa would forever be that woman he had met in a shabby bar, just outside Alexandria, that woman that had tempted him like no other in the last few years. He could never work with that woman. Agent Hale, she would be to him. And nothing more.