A/N: I don't own any of the Criminal Minds characters, plot, etc. all belong to CBS
"Liberation does not come from outside" -Gloria Steinem
Jade POV
Sitting in the Baltimore Police Department on a beautiful Saturday morning, on the edge of my seat, waiting to hear something, anything, about the team is the last place I want to be. They were off at dawn, searching that marina and surrounding warehouses, desperately looking for the missing persons. Every time they get close to finding the UNSUB, every time the team puts their lives at risk and I'm stuck sitting by the phones, my heart pounds out of my chest the entire time and I beat myself up, wishing I could be doing more. The fear, anxiety of not doing more gets me stuck in my head, imagining the worst happening.
Today is no different, only it is completely different, I am also beating myself up over not thinking that Em might have been trying to give me a clue with the way she broke up with me. I've been running that conversation over and over and over again in my head, trying to see if what Hotch said could be true. It sounds exactly like something she would do, self-sabotage, not let anyone know the full truth. Only tell me what she thinks is best, not letting me know, not trusting me to keep her secrets. Didn't I prove she could trust me, I kept our relationship so secret even Garcia had no clue? But what Hotch said rang true. Makes sense. She did act the same way before, she led the entire team to think she was dead in order to keep them safe. Of course, she did let Hotch and JJ in on the secret, but then again, she was still an employee of the BAU at the time...now, now everything is different. Should I call Clyde? Will he tell me? He knew about Prentiss and myself, but would that make a difference to him? Personal relationships don't take as high of a precedence to him, and apparently to Em. Maybe they have been working together too long, his callous behavior rubbing off on her. Maybe she has always been this way.
Shaking my head, I pull myself out of my self-pity death spiral and go to the break room and pour myself a third cup of coffee. Sitting and waiting is the worst. JJ told me weeks ago, I just have to have faith in the team, the waiting gets easier. We are the best out there, we will always get the bad guys, and it does get easier. I just wish it would hurry on up, the trust and faith in the team. I know they are the best, deep down, I do know it, but the waiting still eats at me. I pick a donut out of the box next to the coffee machine, and head back to our office for more waiting.
Luckily, around 8:45, Rossi calls and informs me they found the missing persons, and are heading to find the sailing instructor and make an arrest. Thank goodness! Now I can stew in my thoughts about my terrible luck with relationships. I finish my donut and coffee just as Rossi and JJ bring in the sailing instructor and head straight into the interrogation room. I make my way for a forth cup of coffee and fill up two cups for Rossi and JJ. Surely they will be wanting coffee to clear their thoughts for this part of the job. Interrogations are never fun, but are a very crucial part of the job. One wrong question, wrong guess on their part and the UNSUB might clam up, not give what is needed for a conviction.
I deliver the coffee to Rossi and JJ, assess the UNSUB, the sailing instructor, and I can see how so many people fell for it. He seems like an average, normal guy. Maybe 40 years old, sun-bleached hair and a nice tan. Dressed in nice, fine clothes that looks like they fit in on the finest yachts in the Chesapeake Bay. I definitely feel bad for the victims, the missing people, they were duped by a clever devil.
By the time I get settled in the observation room, with fresh coffees for the rest of the team, they are filtering in, muttering thanks for the coffee. Morgan wraps his free arm around me and starts to thank me with his usual casual hug, but I push back out of his grasp immediately.
"What happened to you? Were they hidden in a sewer?" I ask, eyes watering from the absolutely putrid stench clinging to his clothes.
Hotch and Morgan chuckle, that dark laugh that I have come to learn indicates that I really don't want to know what they are willing to do for this job, to save the innocent victims.
"You really should consider becoming a field agent, Jade. You are quite good at deducting the truth from very little clues."
"Wait, I was half joking, Morgan, you do stink something awful, but I don't think you were actually in the sewers...were you?"
"No, but we had to get past what the victims were calling 'shit mountain'. They were kept in a warehouse without any plumbing. They wisely decided to use the back corner, the least airflow, as the bathroom. But its been a hot summer, so it was reeking something terrible. I definitely have a new respect for sanitation workers." Morgan says, taking a sniff at his shirt and shrugging. Clearly the warehouse stench fried his sense of smell.
"Ugh! Those poor people! Are they okay? I can't even imagine being stuck like that!" I sympathetically reply. "Are all the victims okay? Were they all accounted for?"
"Yeah, they were all there. Pretty near starved and dehydrated, but otherwise okay. Everyone is at the hospital getting checked up." Morgan answers, draining his coffee in nearly one long swallow.
"What were they doing in the warehouse?" I ask, eyebrows furrowed, it doesn't make sense. Why kidnap people just to hide them in an abandoned warehouse?
"That is the million dollar question. They didn't know and the UNSUB, Mick Jones, wasn't talking. Hopefully JJ and Dave can get it out of them." Aaron answers from the back of the room, his eyes trained on the interrogation happening on the other side of the mirrored glass.
It took til noon, but finally JJ and Rossi were able to break the sailing instructor/kidnapper, Mick Jones. He was a middle man, working for someone he only knows as "Ace." Ace found Jones this spring, with a plan to get rich. All Mick Jones had to do was supply young and middle aged adults, and Ace would take care of the rest, then supply him with the profits. The UNSUB wasn't very forthcoming with why Ace needed these people, either he was unaware or he knew and didn't want to get himself further in trouble. Rossi reminded Jones that he could be charged with impeding a police investigation if he willingly withholds information. Jones seems to consider this, but doesn't divulge any more information on Ace. Whatever he is keeping from us is either very incriminating or very fucked up.
As Jones talks about Ace, Hotch quietly speaks with someone on the phone, voice soft but as serious as I have ever heard him. Chilling and scary. If I were the person on the other end of the call I would do whatever he was saying as fast as possible.
"I just notified the Human Trafficking office, letting them know we most likely have a case for them, see if they have anything open in the area, if they know anything about this Ace. We have done all we need to, lets get out of here and try to get past this scum." Hotch announces, and as he leaves the observation room, Rossi and JJ decide the same thing. We leave Jones in interrogation, collect our things and head to the parking garage for our fleet of black SUVs.
"Hey, no offense guys, but I'm not riding the whole way back to DC with you two smelling like a Porta-Potty."
"Guess you have a long walk ahead of you." Morgan chides, but gives me a look.
"Uncle Mike just bought a new second house in Patapsco. Its like 15 minutes from here. I'm sure he will be more than willing to let you two shower up and borrow some clothes once I explain the predicament."
"Sure Little Lady, give him a call. I can't go rolling into the house smelling like this, Savannah might throw me out on my ass." Morgan concedes.
I call Uncle Mike and he not only agrees to let Morgan and Hotch shower at his place, he invites the whole team for a bit of a housewarming BBQ, since it is indeed a beautiful Saturday afternoon. We all agree that a BBQ is well in order, so I give everyone his address and make a bee-line for the newest Bennett residence. Upon arrival, I notice several things about this second home. First, it is larger than my families primary residence. Second, it is only slightly smaller than Rossi's mansion. Perhaps we should all be working in the DIA with offices in the Pentagon and marry rich Senators daughters. Uncle Mike meets us in the large circular drive and gives us a brief tour. Each room is immaculately decorated with the latest styles, but still familiar and comfortable. I wouldn't be nearly as nervous about putting my feet up on the coffee table here as at Rossi's mansion. The perfect blend of luxury and livability, I guess.
We end our tour in the large back yard, with the patio, grill and large in ground pool. Uncle Mike had steaks, burgers and chicken on the grill when we arrived, coolers of beer and soda on ice, as well as chips, potato salad, baked beans and other sides waiting for us. How well prepared, I think to myself, cracking open a can of beer as I re-introduce the team to Uncle Mike and his new wife Nicola. My parents and brothers show up shortly after and Uncle Mike admits he was going to call me and invite me out but I beat him to it. Then I introduce the team to my family and everyone digs in to the delicious food.
Of course my brothers were absolutely completely in awe of Morgan and wouldn't leave him alone, pestering about his physique, his charm, the suave sense of humor that brings everyone in. Morgan took it like a champ, charming them and having the time of his life with the attention. I roll my eyes at one point when I catch him bragging about his mile time. Dad, Uncle Mike, Rossi and Hotch smoke some cigars as they drink beer and eat steak, bullshitting like they were all chums, old friends. Guys can do that. Meet someone new and instantly fall into a friendship that takes women decades to develop. My mom, Blake and Nicola were chatting about the new house and the struggles of decorating a brand new home, picking out paint and fabric colors that will flow through the entire house. As if I would ever know that particular struggle, ha. I'll be renting forever on this FBI pay grade.
JJ, Reid and I were chatting, sitting at the edge of the in-ground pool, dangling our feet in the crystal clear water. JJ tells us about how fast Henry is growing and how it kills her to be so busy, how it feels like she is missing the most important part of his life, but won't change her life for a minute, she loves this job, protecting him from the dangerous scum of the world. Reid and I comment that she can't eradicate the evil from the world by herself, there will always be someone else, but I get where she is coming from. You have a kid and you want to do everything you can to protect him from the evil in the world. Everyone here is committed to stopping the evil to the best of our abilities. In our own ways. It was sweet to see everyone getting along so well, enjoying ourselves. We defeat some small part of the evil, and we deserve to celebrate a bit.
As the party winds down, when everyone is getting ready to leave, Morgan talks JJ and I into meeting tomorrow morning at the gym. JJ and I try to talk him into 10am but he is firm at his insistence of a 7:30 start time. Hugs all around and I make sure to thank Uncle Mike and Nicola again for allowing my team to use the house for a quick shower. I compliment them on the new house and wish them the best luck. They thank us for coming out and promise to host more dinners in the future.
Way too early in the morning I am pulling on my workout gear and waiting for the coffee to brew. Quickly I drink the elixir of the gods and stretch a bit before I head to the gym. I am one of the only cars on the road, because really, who is crazy enough to be going anywhere at 7:30am on a Sunday? Apparently, JJ, Morgan and I.
We greet each other, JJ as groggy as I am but Morgan looks fresh and chipper. Way too chipper for the hour.
"Morgan, it should be illegal to be that happy before the sun has fully risen. Didn't God say that Sunday is the day for rest?"
"Hey, if you want to make it through Quantico this fall, you better get used to early morning work outs. They start PT around 6am."
"True, but they don't require you to be happy when you do 6am PT. They just frown upon murdering the other new recruits." JJ grumbles, tightening her laces as we head to the track.
"Come on ladies, lets get started. If I were you, I'd be glad I could work out with someone as fine as me." Morgan jokes with a wink, trying to get a smile or chuckle from us.
"My brothers are never aloud to talk to you again. They stoked your ego to unhealthy heights. Lets just get this over with." I say taking a sip of my Gatorade before stowing my bag on the bench by the track.
I put in my earbuds and pull up my best running playlist, early 2000's hip-hop. With Coolio, Jay Z and Biggie in my ears, convincing me to run despite the early hour, we work on cardio, running for 45 minutes before heading into the sparring ring. Morgan says the best training always starts with a great run. I was almost completely spent by the end of the 45 minutes of running. Surely he doesn't expect me to hit anything right now? I would be happier to lay down on the rubberized track and take a nap until he and JJ finished their sparring training.
I must have said some of that aloud, because Morgan laughed as he used the bottom of his tee to wipe the sweat from his forehead, baring his perfectly toned abs.
"Keep those abs hidden. It is completely unfair that you look like that. Chiseled abs and you don't look near as out of breath as me. Or JJ." I mutter, hands on my knees, breath coming in heavy pants that don't feel like they are bringing me any useful oxygen.
JJ hands me a towel and nods her agreement. "Morgan, no one cares if you have perfect abs. We all know you take personal fitness to a whole other level. Let us suffer in peace."
After our breathing, pounding heartrate and sweating calms to a reasonable level, we finally head to the sparring ring. They help me tape my hands and fit a mouthgaurd. JJ heads to the punching bag for some solo work while Morgan works with me, reviewing the basics. Once he is satisfied with my performance, he calls JJ over and talks me through my first true one-on-one combat. When Morgan works with me, he mostly stands in place and defends my blows, with JJ its true combat, we spar with each other as equals. JJ and I square off, and Morgan talks me through opening moves,reminds me how to hold my shoulders square, when to move my feet, all the fine details while JJ takes her part as the opponent and swings at me. JJ manages to land a few good blows, but I quickly gain confidence and even the score with a few strikes of my own.
Following the session, JJ gives me a few tips "woman to woman". She tells me about how to effectively defend yourself or even fight effectively when you are smaller than your opponent. We hang back and she shows me some moves that she finds help her more than the "traditional" ones taught by Morgan and even the FBI.
Sore, I head home and straight into my shower where I think as the near scalding water feels great on my sore muscles. Which seems to be every single muscle in my body. I think, about what I learned today in the sparring ring as well as about what Hotch told me on Wednesday. About Em. About everything. By the time the hot water runs out and I step out of the shower I think I have figured somethings out. Em wouldn't have changed her mind all of the sudden. She had been the one to convince me the age wasn't an issue, in the beginning. She was the one to persue me, to take our relationship as something important, worth the effort. It doesn't make sense that she would be the one to call it quits out of the blue. Hotch is probably right, about her giving me a clue, she probably is going under cover and ended things to keep me safe, out of whatever trouble she is investigating. She did mention some big projects that Clyde was working on, but she insisted it wasn't something she was worried about. Probably just to keep me from knowing too much, keep me safe.
Perhaps she is no longer Emily Prentiss, perhaps she has a new identity and does not want me compromised, in danger. I think about the best way to reach out to her, to see if Hotch is correct or if we are both suffering from delusions of wishful thinking. Clyde probably isn't the way to reach out to her...he would tell me to butt out of it. If Em broke up with me, I have no business nosing into her whereabouts and current jobs. Maybe I will have Hotch look into things. Or Garcia. They are both much better connected than I am. Feeling better about things, finally, I get dressed and head out for the nail salon and ice cream shop next door to it, to treat myself. After surviving an early morning work out with Derek Morgan, I deserve to treat myself.
"The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life." - Richard Bach
