A/N: I want to thank everyone who nominated this story for Profiler's Choice Best Crossover story. I'm very honored and pleased some of you are enjoying this story. I don't know where the voting ballots are so I can't provide a link or know who my competition is, but if you think this story is worthy of a vote, thank you for that. I also have to defend Hotch a little and hope this part makes his attitude a little clearer to everyone. Comments are welcomed and thank you again for the nomination and any votes!
"Agent Jareau, is there any credence to reports that the Princess Killer has sent letters to the BAU?"
JJ swore silently when she heard the moniker the press had recently dubbed their unsub. Once the connection was made that the victims had all been from wealthy, prominent families, some enterprising and tasteless journalist decided to bestow that name on the creature and it had stuck. The District and its surrounding areas could be a giant mosh pit of rumors and innuendos that could spread faster than a virus in an elementary school. False reports had been flung wildly about. She had spent half of her time during this press conference discrediting various rumors.
"No, there has been no contact by the suspect," JJ replied firmly.
"Is the FBI offering any cautionary warnings to women?"
"We are asking that women be more vigilant about their surroundings. Attempt to avoid traversing dark areas alone. Report any suspicious vehicles or persons who appear to be following them."
"That's it? That's all the advice the FBI can give for women?" came a sarcastic voice from the middle of the room.
JJ's eyes hardened as they set on Bill Rixon, a reporter from the Daily Herald, an online newspaper that covered the tri-state area, and the creator of the name "The Princess Killer." He was tenacious, critical and very good at his job and much to JJ's consternation, impervious to her manipulations of the press corps. For the most part, she handled reporters with ease. There may be one or two that proved to be vexing, but she rarely dealt with them more than once. After a case was finished, she left the area. However, with Rixon and his paper based in her own back yard, it wasn't the first time she had tangled with him and he was proving once again to be an enormous thorn in both her side and the BAU's.
"Was that an actual question or merely rhetorical?" was JJ's frosty reply, the first crack in her usually professional demeanor. Rixon had that effect on her. As soon as the words left her mouth she was mentally kicking herself. She mustn't show how much the reporter got under her skin.
The man gave her a mock bow and an evil smile. He was tall, at least a head taller than the rest of his fellow journalists. His beaked nose and unruly dark hair made him stand out even more. "My actual question is whether the BAU was feeling unable to handle the case alone, necessitating the presence of NCIS." He gestured around the small press room in the NCIS offices.
JJ gritted her teeth. "Commander Hill was a naval officer which is the reason NCIS is involved in the case. As always, the BAU is pleased when inter-agency cooperation can be shown. We welcome the resources and help NCIS brings to this case and are confident with the combined efforts the killer will be brought to justice." She ended the press conference and started to move off, but not before Rixon got in one more shot.
"But likely not before another woman dies."
JJ forced herself not to turn to glare at Rixon. The last thing they needed was her scowling face plastered all over the news with the words, "FBI's famed BAU unit frustrated and angry with NCIS presence" emblazoned underneath it. That'll go over well with both agencies.
She had started to head for the back door that would lead her back to the inner offices of NCIS when she bumped into a slight, petite redhead. JJ herself wasn't particularly big, but this girl, and she was little more than a girl, was practically elfin and wobbled uncertainly on her feet before JJ hastily reached out to steady her.
"I'm sorry," JJ apologized as she helped the girl regain her footing.
"Oh, it's my fault, Agent Jareau!" the girl squeaked out.
She didn't look more than twenty. A liberal sprinkling of freckles spread across her heart shaped face. Her red hair hung in loose curls and her wide blue eyes gave the appearance of an anxious, eager mouse.
"I couldn't really get a spot in the main area so I was just off here to the side," she said in a shy tone.
JJ examined her closely. Reporters gathered in front of the podium for the best photos of the speakers and to ensure their questions could be answered. This girl was off to the side where she was guaranteed never to be called upon to ask a question or even be seen.
Seeing the question in JJ's eyes, the girl hastily introduced herself. "Betsy Barrons. I'm an intern with the Arlington Herald and I'm tagging along with Reese O'Conner. You know, to gain experience."
"Oh," JJ replied. She knew O'Conner's but couldn't think of the face. She was certain they had never met.
"I think you were just great the way you handled Rixon." Betsy scrunched up her elfin face as she said the obnoxious man's name. "He gives the rest of us journalists a bad name."
JJ smiled slightly. "Thank you, but it's part of my job and he's simply doing his."
Betsy stared wonderingly at the blonde. "That's rather a generous attitude, Agent Jareau," Betsy exclaimed. She smiled shyly. "No wonder O'Conner says that you're a straight shooter."
Startled by this kind description by a member of the press, JJ could only stammer out a, "Oh, well, that's kind of him."
"Oh, he's a great fan of the work your team does. I think he's a bit of an armchair Sherlock Holmes. That's why he's so fascinated by the profiling work you do." She glanced over JJ's shoulder and her eyes widened. "Oh oh, he's giving me this look. I'd better scoot." She fumbled for something in her pocket and withdrew her cell phone. "Look, would you mind if I give you my business card? They gave me an electronic one because it doesn't cost them the printing and I haven't had a chance to give it to anyone yet. I'd love it if you'd be my first recipient." The look she gave JJ was a mixture of shyness and hope.
The agent smiled and nodded. "Of course." She pulled out her own cell phone and the two devices quickly and seamless exchanged information. JJ looked at her phone and smothered a smile at the information, "Betsy Barrons, Investigative Reporter Aide, The Arlington Herald."
"They think "Investigative Reporter Aide" sounds better than "intern"," she murmured in embarrassment. "I swear I didn't make up that title."
JJ laughed understandingly and patted Betsy on her shoulder. "I think it's a smart idea. Good luck, Betsy."
"You too, Agent Jareau! I hope we get to see each other again soon."
It boded no good seeing that procession made up of Hotch, Ducky, Gibbs and Rossi enter the morgue. From the determined set of Hotch's jaw, Emily intuited immediately that he knew about her past with Rapetti. She shot Ducky a baleful glare. The doctor had the good grace to blush and lower his eyes. However, she couldn't be too mad at the medical examiner. Emily knew at some point this conversation needed to occur. She had just hoped it wouldn't happen quite so soon.
Prentiss felt more than she saw or heard Ziva shifting on her feet. The probationary agent had suddenly become tense and Emily knew she would not take kindly to the questioning that was about to happen.
"Prentiss," Hotch began formally, causing Gibbs to scowl at him and Rossi to give him a pained look. Hotch ignored both men. "Prentiss. I understand that you have a history with a potential suspect in this case. Rapetti from the Italian Embassy. I need to know the particulars of your relationship with him to assess whether there is any bearing on the current investigation."
"Hotch," Emily began in a low voice that only held the slightest trace of unsteadiness to it. "You can take my word as an agent and trained investigator that it doesn't."
Hotch stared at her and his voice soften just slightly. "But I can't. You're too close and involved and you know it needs to go through a third party to make the determination."
"I'll do it," Gibbs growled, angry at the cold, impersonal manner Hotchner was exhibiting. Didn't he realize the trauma Emily had been through? How can he be so emotionless and cruel?
"No, Agent Prentiss is my agent. I want the full story," Hotch snapped out. "Prentiss, please begin."
"Perhaps this is not the best time," Ziva began.
"Is there a reason you are here, Agent David?" Hotchner interrupted.
Ziva's eyes narrowed dangerously and it was only a look from Gibbs that kept her from snarling like a mad dog at Hotch.
"I am here for Emily. Are you?" was Ziva's acidic, barely civil reply.
Hotch gazed emotionlessly at the Israeli and turned to Emily. "Would you like anyone to leave before we begin?"
Emily blinked at the assembled group. She'd like all of them to leave her alone. Instead she shook her head. "Let's just get this over with."
The next hour was unpleasant for everyone. As Hotch began his questions, it was clear that he wasn't going to treat Emily with kid gloves. While not an interrogation, the questions came out in measured, professional tones. He was only sharp with her when her emotions started to get the better of her. A pointed question and a firm, "Prentiss" seemed to bring her back. Soon, the others could see Emily begin to shut off that emotional side and her replies came out in that cool, Agent Prentiss tone, as though she was giving a report to her superiors. She had switched off her emotions and simply gave the facts.
Hotch maintained his stoic demeanor that never wavered, except for twice. The first was when Emily described the actual rape. A muscle twitched in Hotch's jaw. The other time was when she spoke about the results of the rape and the abortion a scared fifteen year old had to endure. One of Hotch's hands closed into a tight fist, but his voice and face gave no other indication of his distress.
He made her go over her story again, probing for any detail she may have missed. By this point, Emily was almost on automatic pilot. It wasn't until the end that he surprised her, asking for her to give an assessment of the likelihood Rapetti was the unsub. This caused Emily to pause and she tilted her head thoughtfully.
After a few seconds, she shook her head. "No," she said in a weary voice. "He lacks the capability to methodically plan in the way the unsub has shown us. I also think Rapetti lacks the nerve to kill. I think he's simply a rapist."
"Is that your professional assessment, Agent Prentiss?"
Emily turned tired eyes towards Hotch and silently nodded.
He returned her nod and stood from the chair he had placed in front of hers during their interview. He hesitated a moment and reached out to touch her shoulder. "It's late. I think we all need to go home and get a fresh start tomorrow." He turned on his heel and left the morgue without another word.
Wordless, Gibbs followed Hotch while Ziva drew Rossi aside as Ducky came forward to fuss over Emily.
"What was that?!" Ziva hissed in a low voice. "He treated Emily like a suspect!"
"No," Rossi replied slowly. When the interview began he was just as furious as the NCIS agents but as the questions continued, it dawned on Rossi what Hotch was trying to do. It was a matter of protecting both Emily and himself. "This was never going to be a pleasant session. I think he tried to minimize the damage as best he could by treating it as professionally as he could."
Ziva sniffed disdainfully. "We'll see if the damage has been minimized."
Hotch knew that lack of the electronic doors' tell tale whoosh signaling their closing indicated that someone had followed him out of the morgue. The elevator door was open and allowed Hotch to simply walk into the small car, Gibbs following him on. As the doors closed, Gibbs hit the emergency stop button, bathing the small space in a bluish light.
The NCIS agent whirled furiously onto Hotch. "What the Hell was that?"
Aaron regarded the older man with a cold, flat gaze. "I was interviewing my agent about a potential suspect in our case."
"You interrogated her, pushing her to rip open a wound and rubbing salt into it," snarled Gibbs.
"It needed to be done."
"Not in that way!"
"And what way do you think it should have been handled, Gibbs?"
"You should have been more considerate of her. More understanding. She was raped by this bastard! It wasn't something she had spoken about to anyone in years, maybe ever. And you made her do it twice! You should have treated her better."
"I treated her the way she should have been treated!" Hotch roared as he stepped into Gibbs' space, his face mere inches from the NCIS agent. "I treated her like an agent, not as a victim. Emily wouldn't have wanted that, to be coddled and reminded she was victimized. That's not Emily. So I did what I had to do because even you know we had to question her about Rapetti. I waded through that sewage in the way I thought would help her the most: to remind Emily that no matter what happened to her, it doesn't change how we view her, as one of the best damn agents in the Bureau. I didn't want a victim's statement, I wanted an agent's recount of events. And that's how I treated her."
Hotch took a step back as Gibbs stared at him with a blank expression.
"Nothing we did would have made this a good situation," Hotch continued in a low voice as he stared down at his shoes. "It was a terrible thing that happened to Emily and if you don't think it's taking every ounce of control I have right now to not hunt Rapetti down and beat him to a bloody pulp, you're wrong. But I can't. We can't. So I did the only thing that I could think of doing. Letting her know that no matter what happened in the past, it changes nothing in how we look, feel or treat her today."
A heavy silence fell over them for a few seconds until Gibbs' quiet voice broke it. "You're right. She'd hate being coddled and handled with kid gloves. Emily, she's tough. She probably can handle all this better than any of us. Our first instinct is to hide her away and protect her."
"Which she would hate and fight and would make her think we view her differently in some way, less capable," Hotch added.
Gibbs sighed. "She is stubborn." Gibbs stared at Hotch for a moment. "You agree Rapetti isn't our man?"
Hotch sighed. "Despite what she's been through, I think Prentiss did give an accurate assessment of the man." He looked at Gibbs. "You met him, did anything she say sound wrong?"
Jethro thought a moment and then slowly shook his head. "No. He's a dirtbag, but I don't think he's our killer dirtbag."
"Well, there you have it. We still have a killer on our hands and this scum wandering around untouched," Hotch sighed.
Gibbs didn't respond but hit the emergency stop button again. The doors opened and he stepped back out into the corridor that led to the morgue. He turned to look at Hotch before the doors closed. "Like you said, we all need to get some sleep." The doors shut before Hotch could reply.
Gibbs was still looking at the closed elevator doors when Ziva noiselessly stepped up behind him. Without turning his head, Gibbs simply said,
"Find something on Rapetti. I want the dirtbag in my interrogation room."