"Family is more than blood."
– Cassandra Clare
Penelope swiped her sweaty palms against the front of her skirt. The last time she was questioned like this, was after the death of Haley Hotchner. Now, the woman who interrogated her then, was the very person she hoped to defend. She glanced around at the men of the ethics committee, they were great white sharks in the ocean. She felt like a goldfish trapped in an aquarium. Time ticked on, slowly as she waited to be questioned. Instead of the rapid fire interrogation, she expected, all eyes were on her. Maybe it was the bright orange flower in her hair that held their attention. Either way, she was ready to bolt.
"Answer one question, Ms. Garcia." The head agent said, stern but quiet.
Garcia being Garcia, nervously jumped in without letting him finish. "Only one question? That's it? One question that will be uber easy. I can do that no problem, I was so worried when I walked in here, that you would have like a thousand questions for me and here it is you only want me to answer just one," Garcia's voice trailed off when the head agent voice thundered out, "Technical Analyst Garcia, that is enough!"
Penelope Garcia, hated when people yelled at her and this time was no exception. She began to rapidly blink and her throat clogged up as she croaked out, "sorry sir, "I didn't, I don't mean to ramble. I have a bad habit of doing that when I am nervous. Chocolate Th.. um, I mean Agent Mo… nevermind, I'm doing it again." Garcia stopped talking, flashing a watery, sheepish smile at the committee.
The agents on the panel had been doing this collectively for over forty two years, but never had they felt so hard hearted as they did seeing the look on T.A. Garcia's face after she had been yelled at. A couple of them wondered how she had survived in the Bureau this long.
Seeing how the T.A. looked like she had just been told that her best friend had been shot while holding her dog and neither had survived. The agent modulated his voice to a more friendly tone when he posed the question he had originally intended to ask Penelope. "Ms. Garcia, Have you personally witnessed any behavior from Erin Strauss or David Rossi that would violate the reputation and the Bureau's core values: Fidelity, bravery and integrity? Have you known either one of them to lose their integrity, Ms. Garcia?" He continued to goad her.
Penelope shook her head, "I need a few minutes," she said, allowing her tears to dribble down her cheeks.
"Answer the question first."
"My client said she needs a break," Frank said forcefully. He put a gentle hand on Penelope's shoulder. "I'll escort her outside."
Frank led her into the hallway and pulled a package of kleenex out of his pocket. "Are you okay?" He asked gently.
Penelope nodded, "I don't like this. It shouldn't be a crime to fall in love."
"It isn't," Frank said, "The frat rules aren't enforceable. Just ride out the clock as much as you can."
"You mean-" a brilliant idea came to her, she smiled brightly. "Are you asking me to filibuster?"
"Not technically, but it would be helpful."
"I'll be right back." Penelope said and ducked into the Ladies Room. She checked her make-up and freshened her look. Taking her time, she applied a fresh coat of bright pink lipstick. This would be the interrogation of the century. Frank led her back inside and she took her seat.
The interrogator paused to think, he kept his tone calm. "Ms. Garcia, have you ever seen Agent Rossi or Chief Strauss do or say anything that would be considered only slightly against the rules? Maybe they didn't hurt anyone, they just wanted to be together...have you ever seen anything like that?" He spoke gently, trying to give her space to drop her guard.
"Oh have I ever." Penelope gushed. "He's a powerful man and she needed a place to stay, so he took her to a 5 star hotel and told everyone in the hotel that she was his niece- but really." She threw the interrogator a conspiratorial wink. "And that one time, he took a limo to her apartment in the not-so nice part of town. He was the first man to ever bring her flowers." She gushed, like a true romantic. The interrogator's pen moved quickly over his legal pad.
"Hold up." The interrogator said sharply. "This happened with Erin Strauss and David Rossi?"
"No." Penelope said, dragging out the word. "That's the PG version of Pretty Woman. You asked me if I'd ever known two people who live in the gray area of life to be together."
She watched the interrogator's face turn bright red. "MS. GARCIA!" He thundered, "Have you personally witnessed any behavior from Erin Strauss or David Rossi that would violate the reputation and core values of the Bureau?"
Penelope shook her head, her answer came out in a whisper. "No."
"Speak up!" The interrogator demanded. "For the recording, speak up."
Penelope jumped slightly, "No, Sir." She said as sternly as she could.
"Have you ever experienced-"
"Wait a minute," Penelope held up her hand. " At the beginning of this, you said you were only going to ask me one question. You just asked me two more. No take backs!" She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. Alarmed, she said, "You're the head of the Ethics Committee and you LIED to me, Sir!" she said in complete outrage.
The interrogator slammed Penelope's case file closed. "You're free to go. Jareau, next."
40 hours to go. Tick tock.
Erin sat in the interrogation room, she glanced down at her watch, she'd been there for an hour and 15 minutes. Alone. The DOJ was trying to break her down with inactivity. She focused on the spider web, glistening in the highest corner of the room. If she focused hard enough, she could see how the individual strands were connected. She could handle this, as soon as she was taken into custody, the countdown started. 46 hours to go. She glanced down at her hands, the handcuffs were loose around her wrists. An unwelcome prop, courtesy of Agent Mahoney. If she moved the right way, she could almost slip them off, but she didn't dare. She didn't want to look at them, they made her feel like a criminal. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on anything other than her surroundings. The table she was manacled to, was bolted to the floor. The only thing she was missing was the orange jumpsuit. For someone who wasn't guilty, she sure looked the part. She hadn't seen Stan or David since being escorted into the building. Jesus, Strauss get ahold of yourself! She choked down her fear and focused on the spider web.
Suddenly, the door of the interrogation room burst open, a man she didn't know rushed to her side. "I'm Stan, your attorney. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. I was briefing my firm on your case." He flashed his ID and handed her a business card.
"The whole firm?" Surely it wasn't so serious to tie up an entire law firm.
Stan nodded, "I have attorneys representing the members of the BAU. Dave is there now, the whole BAU is being questioned by the Ethics Committee." Stan spoke in a rush, as if he was trying to fill as much space as possible.
"This doesn't have anything to do with them," Erin said, she clenched her fists, her nails bit into her palms. "Why are they questioning my team? Agent Hotchner is supposed to be at my house-" her mind reeled with possibilities, what the hell was going on?
"Don't worry about it," Stan assured her. "I spoke with Agent Hotchner on the way over. He sent his sister in law and Will LaMontagne to be with your children. He wanted me to let you know that Mackenzie is having a blast with kids closer to her age."
Erin nodded, grateful to see a bright spot in a terrible situation. Her youngest child was making friends, but she wasn't sure how she felt about her little girl being so close to the boys of the BAU…. she let that thought slide. Her children were in good hands regardless.
She glanced around the room. A red light blinked on the security camera, they were being watched.
"Don't worry," Stan sat back in one of the metal chairs next to her. "We have attorney client privilege. They can't listen to us."
"I was on my way to Quantico when I was detained. Why did the DOJ pick me up while my team is being questioned by the Ethics committee?" She asked, her temper was hanging on by a thread.
Stan drummed his fingers against his chin methodically. "I think you're going to be questioned based on how your team responds to their interview."
Tick tock
Dave paced his office, he rounded the desk for the third time with his cell phone in hand. He dialed Stan's number but the call went straight to voicemail. He was certain that this 'meeting' as Erin called it, was going to be the longest 2 days of his life. He hated waiting, he dialed Erin's number. Her phone was probably in a filing cabinet somewhere in the DOJ but it wouldn't hurt to try. As he suspected the call went to voicemail. "Sweetheart, it's me. Everything's okay." He didn't know what to say. She probably wouldn't hear it until Monday anyway. "I love you. See you soon, bye."
A knock at the door pulled him away from his thoughts. "Yeah," he answered crisply and Hotch let himself in.
"Are they ready for me?" Dave asked, eager to get it done so he could meet Erin at the DOJ. If the committee would hurry up and question him, everything would be that much closer to being finished.
"Not yet," Hotch said, closing the door behind him.
"I think they're trying to make me sweat," Dave said and flopped down in his chair.
"They're saving us for last," Hotch agreed.
Dave opened his laptop and pulled up his email. His big plans for the afternoon were drawing to a close. He sent a quick email with a brief explanation, offering to reschedule.
"Well," Dave dropped his shoulders forlornly. "I just canceled my wedding. My bride's in lockup and everyone we care about is being interrogated. Usually, I'd say that good things come to those who wait but-"
"You've never been good at waiting," Hotch chimed in, finishing Dave's thought.
"But Dave," Hotch said carefully. "I don't think storming the DOJ is a good idea, until everyone is cleared. The last thing anyone needs is both of you in handcuffs."
Dave sighed deeply. "Ain't that the truth."
Penelope made her way back towards the Round Table room, at a deliberately slow pace. She meandered into her office, took out her hair clip leaving it on the desk before letting herself out of the office, returning to the round-table room. "You're next, Blondie." Penelope said, nodding to J.J.
"This is going to be fun," J.J. said,dryly. She swished her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
"Your attorney's nice," Penelope tried to smile, looking on the bright side. "His name's Frank."
"Yeah, well, Frank's the only 'nice' thing about this." She said and walked out the door.
"Wait," Penelope said.
J.J. turned around. Penelope walked over and whispered in J.J.'s ear, so only she could hear, "Ride out the clock."
J.J. tried to focus as she walked down the hall, towards the conference room. Nothing felt right about this case, if the Bureau's main agenda was really about money, the team wouldn't be questioned, instead the funds would be deducted from whomever was overpaid and Erin would face disciplinary action, but not like this. The Committee was on a witch hunt, why? That was the part she couldn't wrap her mind around. Coming to the door of the conference room, J.J. shook hands with the attorney who stood outside the door. "You must be Frank," J.J. said.
He nodded and glanced at his watch.
"Let's talk about our strategy," J.J. said.
"We're just biding time...when you get in there, ask a lot of clarifying questions. I think your team is starting to wear out the interrogator."
"Good. The longer we can hold back the jackals, the better."
"Glad we're on the same page," Frank said, leading her into the conference room.
"Agent Jenifer Jareau, with the Behavioural Analysis Unit," J.J. said firmly into the recorder. Before the interrogator could ask. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for the next question.
"Agent Jareau," The interrogator shifted slightly in his seat. He wasn't used to women taking control of the room. 'Good.' J.J. thought to herself, she could use that. "Agent Jareau," The interrogator said, "Are you enjoying your promotion?"The interrogator tried to lull her into a false sense of security with simple questions and building rapport.
"Profiling felt like a natural fit."
"I understand you were previously employed as the media liaison-"
"I was." J.J. said flatly, without giving more information than necessary. Jennifer Jareau was nobody's fool. While she knew it was important to stretch out her time in interrogation, she was well aware of how imperative it was to deliberately think out each and every answer in minute detail, because one slip of the tongue might divulge information that the interrogators could seize and use against her friends.
The interrogator fell silent. The clock on the wall was the only sound in the room for a long time. He wanted to ensure he asked his next question in a way that would elicit information from her in the most damning way possible. Agent Jareau was young but she was as wily as a fox. He had to find a chink in her armor and get into her head.
Finally, he spoke again. "Tell me about your covert operation in Afghanistan."
"I'm not sure what you're talking about."
"During your backstop-"
"I apologize to the committee." J.J. said, making eye contact with each man seated at the table. Can one of you please explain to me what a backstop is? I'm not sure I've heard the term before."
The interrogator slammed his palm against the table in frustration. "You had an interim position at the State Department."
"Sir, I was always with the State Department-"
"According to your file, you and Erin Strauss spent several months tracking down connections to Bin Laden. Do you know what I'm talking about,now?"
"Sir, you stated that the mission was a covert operation. So, officially, that mission isn't supposed to exist. If I was a part of something like that, I wouldn't be able to tell you anything about it."
"That's not the case now, Agent Jareau. Or maybe," He leaned towards her, invading her space across the conference table. "You'll respond better to J.J.?"
"My name is Jenifer Jareau." She said forcefully. "You may call me Agent Jareau. To answer your question," She said pointedly. "According to protocol, for all covert operations, divulging any confidential operation requires the appropriate security clearance and written permission from the appropriate agency. One moment," J.J. requested and gave a small smile, she gestured to Frank.
"My client would like a break."
"They're not supposed to know about that mission," J.J. said, in the hallway. "They're going to use it against me." She blinked quickly and choked down the emotion in her chest. If the committee was willing to play games with the mission, they would bring up her family, her baby she didn't leave the hospital with.
"You know how to put the ball back in their court. You're doing great, if you need to stall, wave me over and recite the ABC's."
J.J. nodded and checked her watch. She'd been interrogated for 5 hours and counting. "I might even sing them for you."
Frank chuckled, the women of the BAU were a force to be reckoned with. "Looking forward to it."