AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wanted to say a quick thank you to all who have read and provided feedback. Hope you continue to enjoy reading this as much I am writing it
-Shawn
Emily Prentiss was skilled at many an unusual thing. Chess, checkers, she could even play a mean game of Chutes and Ladders. A self professed dork, she sometimes wondered if maybe she could go head to head with Reid in a game of Name The Star Trek Episode. She was even willing to toss in a bonus round of "what's the Doctor McCoy quote".
As a child, she'd collected just about everything that a child could, much to her parents annoyance and obvious displeasure. Especially her mother's. Ambassador Prentiss, who was not a shy woman when it came to her stubbornly held opinions, had always believed that a young lady should study poetry and logic, not the theory of how to make a quarter levitate.
But, Emily mused, as the conference room began to fill up with her weary teammates, she'd hardly ever been the perfect little lady. More apt to be found playing tackle football in the mud with her male friends than reading Robert Frost with her female acquaintances, she'd been a great disappointment to her mother for a very long time.
"Three victims," JJ said suddenly, dragging her back to the present. She glanced over at the blonde woman and couldn't help herself from frowning just a bit. She liked JJ, liked her a lot. Unlike the males in the group, the women of the BAU had been immediately accepting and welcoming of her. Especially JJ, who seemed to always have a bright smile on her face.
Now however, now she looked like hell. She'd thrown on a layer of makeup, but it did little to hide the exhaustion in her eyes or the tension that was making her stand far straighter than normal. In short, she was on edge, coasting on the fumes of her stubbornness and pride.
But then, she was hardly the only one trying to pull off that trick.
Emily glanced over at Reid, the other member of the team who as of late seemed like he wasn't quite screwed on straight.
He was snappy, jumpy and impatient. Often irritated, frequently annoyed.
She knew all this because she had been the brunt of much of it.
Reid was right in a way. She was new to the team. She hadn't known him very long. But he was also wrong. She had known what she'd been talking about.
As a child, as the only child of career politicians, she'd spent a great deal of her youth watching people, listening to people and then learning them. Body language, tone, eyes. Everything came together.
A man could lie easily and effortlessly with his voice, but if his hands twitched, if they told, then she'd known.
As for Reid, well everything about him was a tell.
And for a boy from Vegas, that was saying something.
"Actually four if you add in Murdock," Hotch corrected. Emily didn't miss the furious flush that for half a second reddened JJ's cheeks. Like, "How could I have missed that?" Her actual response, however, was a quick sharp nod.
"Right. Four. The first victim was Alvarez DiSparto. 43. He was a retail manager who was married with eight children." She pointed to the screen and a picture of a Latino man with a large jolly smile came up on the LCD.
"Ouch," Morgan whispered, shaking his head, undoubtedly thinking about the loss of his own father at far too young of an age. Emily had long ago realized that Derek Morgan was a man whose past constantly informed his here and now. Some people could separate the past from the present, break all of the emotions apart and let each situation be its own. Not Derek. No, Derek felt frequently, deeply and often intimately the scars of his youth.
"Victim number two was Thomas Bell. 31. Single with one child. He was working for the city until last month when he was laid off because he failed to show for work after being arrested for not paying almost eight thousand dollars in back child support." The picture on the screen showed a young man who looked far too thin and just a little bit like a weasel.
"Nice guy," Emily muttered, before quickly turning away from the disapproving look that she knew that Hotch would be throwing her way. He was the one member of the group that she still hadn't cracked, still hadn't found a way to convince that she was just one of the team. Some days, hell, most days she wondered if she ever would.
"And finally, " JJ finished, her voice growing suddenly very cold and controlled, "Last nights' victim, Gibson Barrett." The photo of Barrett showed a very handsome man with an easy smile that could charm a snake out of its basket. "29. Single with no children. He was a junior associate over at McCovey, Blanton and Corgee, a criminal defense law firm located downtown."
There was a warning edge in her tone, something that said, "there are the facts, okay? So don't ask me to more than them."
And for now, Emily knew that none of them really would. Because that wasn't this team's way and Derek was right, they all rather liked their secrets.
But that wasn't good enough, Emily thought with a frown. This whole bit where everyone stuck their head in the sand and pretended not to notice that their two youngest agents were struggling badly, only just barely treading water, well it sure wasn't doing anyone any good. Not JJ. Not Reid.
"All three were bludgeoned with what appears to be a hammer of some kind. The first two victims died from this and were then eviscerated and slashed at with a hunting knife upwards of two hundred times a piece," JJ informed them, clicking a button on her remote. Bloody crimescene photos filled the TV, showing their horrific way in which the Alvarez and Bell had died.
"A bit of overkill," Morgan noted.
"Actually more of a frenzy than overkill," Reid amended. "He probably couldn't help himself. It became something of an obsession, a need of some kind to keep slashing at them. He couldn't stop."
"What about Barrett?" Hotch asked, flipping through his casefile. Emily glanced down at her own, marveling at the neatness, the order and the precise execution with which it had been put together with. JJ had had little over an hour to compile iboth a Powerpoint presentation and folders for each team member and as usual, she'd come through with flying colors.
But then, JJ hid things better than most. Whether behind razor sharp efficiency or a smile that could put a thousand watt spotlight to shame, she always seemed to manage to control perception.
It was her job.
Probably also her curse.
Pride was a terrible thing, especially when it forced you to close off in fear of letting people down. Especially when those people were family.
"Barrett was bludgeoned as well, but apparently survived long enough to make it to his car. The Unsub followed him there and well…"
"We saw what he did," Emily murmured, more to herself than the others. Still, they heard and she found herself just a little bit pleased that they all nodded their acceptance of this truth.
"Did Murdock die the same way?" Gideon asked, toothpick between his teeth. It was the first thing he'd said since the meeting had begun, but it would be a lie to say that Emily had forgotten that he was even there. No, Jason Gideon was the kind of man that no one, be it friend or foe, ever forgot.
During her first days with the BAU, she'd often watched him. Watched him as he leaned against the wall in the back of the room, listening to everything and turning it around in the awesome mind of his until it made the kind of sense that only he could understand. In theory it was a curious thing, but in an actual practice, well it was amazing.
Simply put, Jason Gideon was brilliant and being around him always felt like something of an awesome privilege.
"No," JJ replied, shaking her head, her messy ponytail swinging from side to side. The men probably hadn't noticed that JJ wasn't looking as sharp as usual, but Emily had. It was a girl thing. It was a thing that she wasn't used to noticing about JJ. " He was stabbed once in the chest. We won't know cause of death until the coroner does an autopsy."
"Okay," Hotch said. "We need victimology."
"I'll get started on that," Emily offered, idly wondering if she looked a little bit like an overeager puppy as she scrambled to volunteer her services.
"No," Hotch answered, shaking his head. Emily felt her heart sink. It seemed no matter how hard she tried…
"Sir?" she finally managed.
"I want you and Morgan to go back through Barrett's house. Figure out how the Unsub got in. Maybe it's best if you take JJ-"
And then he stopped. Abruptly and looking a bit troubled. Like he wasn't sure that this was a bridge he wanted to cross. Emily turned just enough to see JJ's expression. It was a warning one, but also a pleading one. She seemed to be begging Hotch not to go there.
But of course, they all knew that he had to. And so carefully, in a tone that Emily found herself absurdly envious of, he continued, "JJ, have you ever been inside in Barrett's house?"
She sighed, looked annoyed, but then like the finely tuned and trained FBI agent that she was, she admitted, "Yes." Cold. Controlled. And somehow oddly and disconcertingly vulnerable.
"Could you go back there with Morgan and Prentiss? See if maybe you can point out anything that might be out of place?" Hotch asked her, his tone soft, his query more of a request than an order. The amount of respect he had for JJ was obvious to everyone and again, Emily felt a brief surge of envy.
"Of course," JJ replied and for a moment, Emily was surprised. She wasn't really sure what she had been expecting, but resigned acceptance hadn't been it. But then, Emily rationalized, perhaps she should have because the respect between JJ and Hotch certainly went both ways.
And as if to prove it, unnecessarily Hotch said," Thank you."
Then, using a force that was uniquely his, Gideon chimed in with "I'll check in with the local police, let them know we're taking the case and see if they have any suspects."
"Good," Hotch responded. "Reid, you and I will get cracking on victimology. There has to be something tying these men together."
Reid nodded his acceptance of this and then turned his attention to the casefile. But before he did, before he could look away, hiding his face and its weary hollowed out features from the others, Emily caught him stealing a glance over at JJ. She couldn't quite read his expression, but there was something there.
Something…very…odd?
Was…was Reid worried about JJ? It seemed just a little bit preposterous. Reid had a thousand of his own problems, was lost within his own haze, a fog which she'd tried to penetrate with limited and often unsettling results.
And yet his look as he briefly gazed over at JJ, well it seem troubled. But then, Emily reminded herself, there was something between these two. Or at least there had been. Deeper than co-workers, more intense than just friends, but not quite lovers. At least not yet.
And considering what was now between them – Georgia, something he'd claimed he'd never blamed her for, something she insisted she was at fault for – it was hard to see how they could ever find a way back to place they'd been before Tobias had come into their lives.
But that was a problem for another day. And since Reid had looked away and was now pretending to find his thoroughly read and re-read casefile interesting, it was time for her to move on as well.
Cracking her back as she stood, she turned and followed a silent JJ and Morgan out of the room.
The inside of Barrett's townhouse was no surprise. The man had been well off, but had thought himself something of a modern day Casanova. As such, little in the house looked like what a grown man would own, but rather what someone who was looking to seduce and bed as many women as he could in as short a time as he could would have.
Even Morgan looked just a little bit appalled.
When they entered the place, Emily saw JJ tense up. She truly wanted to be anywhere, but here.
"JJ?" Morgan asked, stepping close to her. But before he could get to her, JJ waved him away. Not even an "I'm fine." Just an impatient flip of her hand. More like "knock it off, go away."
"Police report says he was attacked in the kitchen," Emily said, turning in a circle. Her eyes flickered towards JJ, as if to ask her which way, but the stony expression on the blonde's face convinced her not to. "So…"
"Over there," Morgan pointed. Emily followed him towards the kitchen, not missing the fact that JJ stayed back near the front door, not seeming to want to move past the entry. Almost like she was hoping that she could turn and walk back through the door. Pretend nothing had happened.
"Morgan, they only went out once, right?" Emily asked as they entered the kitchen. She intentionally kept her voice low, not wanting JJ to hear.
"So she told me," he shrugged, his eyes darting around the overly stylish room.
"Then why does she seem so upset about being here?"
"She's probably taking it personally, thinks she should have stopped it."
And while that seemed right to Emily, it also upset her more than she cared to admit. JJ was already struggling mightily under the guilt of the Reid situation, she hardly needed another helping.
"You ready?" Morgan asked.
She nodded.
"Okay, so it looks like he was in here cooking dinner." He turned and pointed towards a can of Campbell's chicken noodle soup.
"They don't call that cooking, Derek," Emily cracked.
"Says the woman who believes escargot is quality food."
"I never said that," she countered. "I simply said it's more edible than you'd think and with the right amount of garlic butter, even pretty…good."
"Uh huh. If you have to douse something with butter, that doesn't make it edible, just means the butter is pretty damn good."
Emily laughed, couldn't really deny it.
"Anyway," Morgan continued. "He was cooking. Heard a knock at the back door." He indicated over towards the door in the kitchen. It led out to the side of the house.
"He's a stud, probably fears almost no one so he opens the door."
Morgan nodded and yanked the door open. "Wide open and there stands our Unsub."
"Photos show that Barrett had a bruise on his cheek," Emily said. "So the Unsub punches him? That seems odd, doesn't it?"
"Not really. Barrett has a glass jaw. He probably went down immediately," JJ said from the doorway of the kitchen. Both Morgan and Emily turned towards her. Emily noticed immediately that while JJ had come to help, she still didn't seem all that keen on actually walking into the room where Barrett had been attacked.
"He was a big man," Morgan countered, not so much challenging her, but attempting to get her to expound on what she'd said.
"Yeah and in most fights, he'd probably win, but a hit to the jaw would knock him down. At least at first."
"Why?" Emily asked, because what JJ was saying seemed so strange.
"He told me that his jaw had been broken three times. Twice by men he's stolen women from – you know, he was a real prince of a guy – and once by a baseball. Apparently he wasn't much of a catcher."
There was undeniable bitterness there. And while Emily couldn't be certain, she guessed that it had to do with feeling guilt for a man she couldn't stand.
"Ok, so the Unsub punches Barrett. He goes down and before Barrett can adjust, our guy is on top of him, hits him on the head with the hammer, keeps hitting…" Morgan suggested.
"But Barrett's a fighter and so he manages to get loose and he runs outside. He sees his car," Emily continued, just about seeing the images play out in front of her.
"But he's hurt too badly and not thinking straight. He doesn't realize until he's inside the car that he doesn't have the keys," Morgan said, shaking his head.
"And then he's just dead," JJ finished for them. They both looked over at her, both a bit stunned by the anger in her tone. Both a bit shocked by the hollow coldness in her normally bright blue eyes.
"JJ," Emily started, taking half a step towards her.
"So now we know how," JJ interrupted, moving half a step back. If wasn't that she was afraid so much as that she seemed to be insisting on rejecting any form of comfort "Can we go?"
It was such an un-JJ like thing to say that for a moment, neither she nor Morgan could reply. Only stare back at their blonde friend in worry.
Finally Morgan replied, "Sure."
Then, as they watched, without another word, JJ turned on her heels and beat a hasty retreat.
And silently, to herself, Emily wondered if things had just gone from bad to worse.
TBC.