A/N: I don't own any of the Criminal Minds characters, plot, etc. all belong to CBS
"The psychotic drowns in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight." Joseph Campbell
Jade POV
After a wonderful, beautiful, short weekend staying in and video chatting with Em, I fully dreaded walking into the BAU on yet another Monday morning. I wonder what is going on, last night when Em and my were drinking wine and video chatting, our call was dropped. I tried calling her back twice, but it didn't go through. I ended up showering and going to bed early, even though I did send her a text goodnight, which she answered at 4am, a sweet apology and wishing me a great day and better week at the BAU. In the elevator, up to the BAU, I straightened my pink and cream blouse over my olive pants, collecting myself for another busy week.
As I walked to my desk, JJ caught my eye, standing and gesturing for me to come over, "Hey Jade! Morning! Hotch wants to see you ASAP." JJ waves and greets me with a smile and small wave.
"Thanks! Morning JJ! Morning everyone!" I wave and smile back, dropping my things at my desk before I head up to Hotch's large office.
"Morning boss! There are only a few weeks of my internship remaining and my instructors at George Washington University and my instructors were checking in on us this weekend. I'm guessing they were in touch with you as well?" I ask, sitting in the chair across the desk from Hotch and smiling brightly.
"Yes, Jade, your instructors at George Washington University were as a matter of fact in contact with me this past weekend. That is, indeed, part of the reason I called you into my office. Of course I told them you were doing well and we would be more than pleased if you chose to join us after you graduate the Masters of Strategic Public Relations program and go through the Academy. I gave you the highest marks and recommendations. That doesn't mean you can slack off now." Hotch says with a small smile before he continues.
"The second thing I wanted to talk about was the Academy. Your internship officially ends in the middle of July and the Academy class doesn't start until the third week of August. If you were interested, Cruz and I would like to keep you on as an intern until you start at the Academy."
"Wow, Sir. Yes." I stutter, elated and flattered. "Yes I would be honored to stay as your intern until I go to the Academy. My family does have a vacation planned for the 10 days following the conclusion of my program required internship. So if it wouldn't be a trouble, I'd like to go on that vacation and then resume my internship here?" I reply. Tentatively I look up to Hotch, my breath catching again and I find myself a bundle of nerves.
Hotch contemplates for a moment, not revealing anything on is face, not even his telling crinkle around his eyes or furrowing of brows, before he answers, "Yes, that would be satisfactory. Of course you deserve a family vacation after completing a rigorous internship. I look forward to hearing all about it and seeing wonderful pictures."
"Thank you, Sir. I think I'm in shock. I will probably be properly excited when the caffeine kicks in, in about 30 minutes. Is that all you wanted to talk about? Or can I go run and tell JJ and Penelope?" I reply, remembering to breathe at the good news.
"I have one more thing, Jade. I got a rather unusual drunk call last night...from Emily Prentiss. Can you explain why she thought she was talking to...Princess? Whom I found out was you?" Hotch replies, in a rather restrained tone.
Embarrassed, mortified, I look up into his eyes and feel about 1 inch tall. I feel my cheeks burn crimson and my heart that was previously pounding so hard almost stopped dead, dropping to my stomach.
"Oh. My. God." I say, blushing so deep red. "I'm so sorry, Sir. I can explain. I promise. I am so, so, so very mortified. Em and I are sorta long distance dating. And we have had some fun dates when she was here for her joint work with ATF and DOD a few weeks ago." I blabber, cheeks burning red. I can't maintain eye contact in my embarrassment and I look down to my lap. I pull a piece of fuzz off my olive pants and drop it to the floor, distracting myself from the mortification, or trying to.
"Don't apologize. You aren't the one who called me drunkenly. Congrats, she's a beautiful woman. I hope you're very happy together...just make sure she doesn't call my house looking for you again." Hotch replies, voice tender and consoling.
"No problem, Sir. I had no idea. Are you sure you still want me on the team after my girlfriend drunk called you?" I say, finding the courage to look back up to the severe, stern team leader. He looks conflicted for the first time since I met him, he looks torn between standing up to give me a hug or letting me sit here, away from him so I can deal with the embarrassment and shock on my own.
"To be fair I knew her first." Hotch replies with a sly, if not cryptic grin.
Wait.
Wait a damn second.
Is Em bi? Did she hook up with Hotch? With super proper Hotch? Or does he just harbor feelings for the 'beautiful woman'? What does that smile mean? Another time, that is a conversation for another time.
"Thank you, Sir. If you don't mind, keep my relationship private from the rest of the team. They don't know and I don't plan on telling them until she is ready. Em, uh, she isn't out to them." ...or you, Hotch, but I guess she ruined that on her drunk call. I say the last part to myself, looking him in the eye and noticing just a little glint of amusement. He definitely finds my girlfriend attractive, whether or not they ever hooked up or had a relationship remains to be seen, I guess.
"Of course. Also, last thing, here are several more case files I want you to look at and meet back her no later than 10 am to discuss. And you will be going with us if the case is out of town. No more giggling with Penelope all day." Hotch dismisses me as he hands me a stack of several thick case files.
I return to my desk, settle in and sip my coffee before I pull the files toward me. Carefully I read them, reviewing the details, looking for relevant points as JJ, Garcia and Hotch have been teaching me. In the end, I find three cases compelling, and the other two to be utter BS. Just before 10 am, I knock on the office door, let myself in and I tell Hotch my assessment. He agrees but laughs at my wording. Good, I'm glad it won't be too weird with us now that he knows. How does he always know about my relationship status before anyone else? I guess he became team leader for a reason.
We quickly review the case before heading to the conference room to present to the team. This case looks very strange, but the rest of the team seems very intrigued and interested.
We quickly jet off to LA and meet with the FBI field office as well as local police. This case involves young women, all between 20-33 years old, who have been abducted. Police were notified of the case when mysterious letters were found in libraries, banks, museums, sealed with blood-red wax and addressed to "THE MAN" with ink made from the kidnapped women's blood. The medical examiners office confirmed each letter had the blood of the woman it referenced. The letters were all very cryptic, didn't really make much sense, just assuring the women named in the letter were okay and to not come looking for them.
All of the women are in yoga and /or pilates classes, but none of the same classes, sadly, LA has more than enough yoga and pilates classes that it doesn't really narrow down the victim pool. In fact, each abducted woman was last seen either going to or returning from a yoga or pilates class. All the women are white or Hispanic. No black or Asian abduction victims. The team bounces around a few different ideas but nothing really seems to stick as we converse.
When we land, the FBI field office team and local police inform us, there is a new victim reported missing, and she is 30 and her photograph looks just like JJ. Average height, blonde straight hair, blue eyes, fit. The report states she is the mother of a toddler boy and her husband reported her missing when she never returned from her early morning yoga class. JJ half-jokes, nudging Hotch's elbow with her own, saying "no, I am not going to volunteer myself."
The team chuckles as we set ourselves up in the police department, Hotch speaking to the police chief and FBI agent in charge. As he talks, we settle in around the coffee pot and chatter about what is going on and what possible leads there are so far. After a few minutes, Hotch returns to the team and fills us in with a few details of the case.
"JJ and Morgan, head to the libraries, banks and museums where the letters are found. Blake and Rossi will go to the forensics office and see if there are any breaks in that part of the case, any DNA that could lead us to the UNSUB. Reid and I will head to the yoga and pilates classes, interview instructors and see if anything noticed any unusual with the missing women. Jade, stay here and work as go between the team and the local police. Answer phones and monitor the news outlets responses. Keep each of us and Garcia in the loop. Alright team, we will meet back here and regroup. Lets go." Hotch informs us and heads out the door with Reid quickly following.
The rest of the team slowly follows as I pour myself another coffee and take up my seat nearest the phone bank. After a few minutes of boredom I pull my phone out and call Em.
"Hey, Em, so I have something we need to talk about." I say as she answers the phone.
"Yes, Princess. I am so sorry I didn't tell you. I guess when our video call disconnected last night in my wine haze I THOUGHT I simply redialed but accidentally called Hotch instead." Em gushes in a rush.
"Well that was absolutely mortifying, to be called into his office, absolutely clueless and asking him about my internship only to be alarmed to hear him asking me if I am "Princess". Please, never make me hear those words from Hotch ever again!"
"Oh no! He didn't!" Em laughs hysterically over the line, I can almost see her shoulders shaking with the full bodied laughter.
"He did. It was awful. Very uncomfortable. Also, did you ever hook up with him, he had something very interesting to say about how beautiful you are." I ask, taking a deep breath, ready for whatever answer may be coming my way.
"No. He definitely had a huge crush on me and I did have to turn him down once, not too long after Haley was murdered. I don't think he figured out that I am a lesbian, but I certainly had to be the one to keep him from crossing the line, ensuring his affection was purely friendly and non-romantic. What did that man say? Do we need to castrate him?"
"Oh no, nothing specific, he just seemed very certain that you are beautiful head to toe."
"Aren't I? Hotch is a great team leader but I had never considered him as a prospective date or sexual partner."
"You are, Em, don't even doubt that for a second" I assure her. After a brief pause I change the subject, satisfied with the way that conversation went. "Ugh, Sometimes I hate this job, the sitting and waiting while the team does all the hard work. I love having the chance to talk to you, but just sitting by myself in a strange office is so lonely." I complain, looking around the dingy office, wishing Penelope were here at least.
"Yeah, I get that Princess. What is this case like? Can you tell me about it?" Em asks, her voice soft but caring.
"There are several abductions in LA, young women. UNSUB is dropping letters off in public places, addressed in the womens blood and sealed in blood-red wax. The last victims looks and demographics are about as close to JJ as a stranger can get."
"Oh no! I hope Hotch doesn't have the idea to use her as bait. Poor woman has been through enough and we don't need any more damage to my favorite BAU ladies." We muse back and forth for a few minutes before the police department phone rings and I have to go do my job.
No need to discuss using JJ, the next letter is found that night, and this time it is caught on surveillance cameras. The cameras provide a good view of the UNSUBs face, his height and build. Local police are notified late at night but they do not inform the team until 5am. We hurry in, bedraggled and bleary eyed, but very eager to close the case and catch the asshole psychopath. Their tech analyst is able to identify him, 45 year old male, James St. Clair. A local author and self-proclaimed mystic. In his most recent book, he wrote about the 'belief' that if you 'link' womens blood by taking a pint from each one, then all of their life experiences can be known, and if enough womens blood is taken, one can gather the knowledge of the entire known universe. Or something like that.
"Oh hell no. What the hell is wrong with this son of a bitch?!" Morgan shouts, getting up from his chair roughly and striding across the room, trying to get out his frustration. He swipes his hand along the top of his head, anger and frustration clear.
"I second that sentiment. What kind of sickness is this? This isn't mysticism, this is pure sickness." Rossi replies, leaning back in his chair and blowing out a long breath. JJ and Hotch share a look, they clearly are also very disturbed and sickened by this guy.
"Who on earth could publish this trash? No one can possibly publish this clear mental illness." I ask, looking around the room at the team.
"I'll call Garcia and have her look into the publishing company." Morgan says, striding out of the room and fishing his phone out of his pocket, clearly looking for a way to let his frustration out without hitting someone or something.
Shortly after Morgan returns, the team leaves to check out the authors known locations and it is barely past 6am. Slowly calls come in from the team, St. Clair is not at his home or his office. No one is at his home, in fact. It looks like he hasn't been there since around the time the abductions started weeks ago.
I watch the coverage of the story on the local news station as well as CNN morning broadcasts. Thankfully, they haven't released his name, or the book, as Hotch and the rest of the team believes that will only fuel his desire to abduct more women, to gain more blood for "more knowledge" and stay ahead of the investigation. Before he rushed off to find St. Clair, Hotch warned me to keep as much of the case on a strictly need-to-know basis. The media is only to know the basic age/race type demographics and that we believe the women to be kept alive, if they do call.
A media team shows up at the police station and I am the only one from the team here, the local police chief and a few of his officers are all here and are willing to stand with me, but want me to do all the talking. I look to the chief, he offers me a warm smile and I agree to go on camera. I quickly stop in the restroom to make sure my hair looks fine, the loose waves are neat and not too messy from the rush this morning to get to the station. The rest of my outfit is fine as well, I have a soft pink blouse on with a cream skirt that hits just below the knee, which I smooth one more time before I swipe a final coat of lip gloss on and walk out to the hungry dogs which are the media team.
"Thank you. I am Jade Bennett with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. We are in Los Angeles today assisting in the search for the abducted young women. My team and I believe they are being kept alive by the middle aged white male who took them. If you have any idea where they are being kept or where we can find information about this man, please give us a call at 555-123-9876. Thank you again, and have a great morning." I say into the large microphones from behind the small podium the chief placed for me. A few reporters attempt to ask questions, but I just shake my head and say "No further comment, the BAU does not discuss pending information and pandering guesses with the media" as I walk back inside and pour myself another cup of coffee.
The team returns to the police department to brainstorm, frustration and anger clear on their faces. Reid and Blake talk about mysticism as a concept, and the main tenets described in St. Clair's book. It seems like St. Clair took the most basic concept of mysticism and used it to attempt to legitimize his mental illness and compulsion for doing the gross and terrible things. Hotch and Rossi both stop to compliment me on the press brief, stressing they should almost always be that brief and to the point. I feel better about myself and the team feels like they are finally getting somewhere with the case. They head back out with the local police, canvassing neighborhoods and searching places St. Clair is known to have visited frequently.
A few calls come into the office, but none provide information worthy of passing on to the team. One lady swears her dog is the one responsible, another thinks it is the Russians, yet another thinks it is the women just wandering around town to clear their heads or something. I almost yelled at that last person. Letters are found with their blood on the envelopes, that isn't what a person does when they just take a quick walk about town, it doesn't take a profiler to figure that one out.
Eventually, nearing 7 pm, after expanding the search to various other locations, the team finds him in the basement of the library where the first letter was found. James St. Clair was sitting in the back corner of the library, reading dusty volumes of Hindu and Buddhist texts, claiming he was doing research for another book.
Upon bringing him in, he initially refuses to talk, to tell the team where the women are. He promises they are all safe and all alive, but refuses to go further than that. The team, local PD and FBI branch office take turns interviewing St. Clair, with the remainder of the team watching on the other side of the glass. He doesn't give anything away. Frustration builds and everyone is on edge. I haven't seen the team this tense and frustrated since I started. I guess they all have their breaking points and this kind of crazy is what gets to them. I mean, most of these cases get to me, but they are usually so much better at hiding the tension or subverting it with light humor.
JJ and I walk outside for some fresh air and to try and get some distance to see if anything can come to mind with a different backdrop. We sit on a park bench just beyond the parking lot of the police station, the dusky light and muggy evening air doing little to help our comfort as we chat. After a few minutes of musing, of trying to combine Hotch's old advice for dressing up looking like a victim, but putting into play in a way that no one can be hurt, we come up with an idea.
JJ decides to change her clothes into a yoga outfit from her go bag, pull her hair up in a sporty ponytail, walk into the interrogation room, and offer St. Clair some coffee and ask if he wants "anything more"...meaning food, but using a tone and body language to indicate she thinks he should be interested in collecting her blood too. He says something about "I already have one of those" under his breath and refuses to elaborate or even admit he said anything.
By end of the following day, just before they would have to release him without further evidence linking him to the kidnappings and abductions, JJ and Morgan get the location out of him. The team rushes off with some local police to the location St. Clair mentioned, an abandoned elementary school about a half hour from his house.
They quickly find the women who are all okay. Terrified, a bit dehydrated and some superficial bruises, but okay. They are escorted to the hospital anyway, to receive fluids and have a formal workup just to be sure. The whole team is relieved, borderline ecstatic that they are okay. I guess all the tension from earlier is now released. We wrap up the case in town and book it back to the jet.
On the flight home JJ and Reid claim their spots on the couch, asleep on each other, her hand in his hair, reminding me of the times his head was in my lap, my fingers weaving into his curls atop his head as he drifts off, breath even and slow.
I smile fondly and settle in next to Rossi, sharing his Scotch.
"Love is fickle, isn't it?" The elder agent muses and I just lean my head against the back of the seat and drift off to my own nap as I return the glass to his waiting hand.
"There are no differences but differences of degree between different degrees of difference and no difference" William James
