Chapter 5-
Marie POV:
The BAU team, now comically including myself, is seated around a table in the "conference room". Looking at the face of each agent, I can discern that I am the only person here not feeling uncomfortable. I wait for somebody to cut through the malleable solid of tension. Still waiting. David Rossi, who I've come to like rather quickly, is sporting a tight-lipped smile with unmistakable humor in his eyes. Derek Morgan is looking between me and his teammates as if trying to communicate coherent thought through repetitive indignant glances. Spencer Reid looks like he might need to use the restroom, wide-eyed and anticipating. Jennifer "JJ" Jareau is trying to look pleasant. A for effort. Aaron Hotchner is going to have a brain aneurysm before this week is through.
"Okay… so an electron and a neutron walk into a bar-"
"Oh hell no…" I'm cut off by Derek Morgan, who face palms, followed by a collective exhale and some short laughter.
"What?" I ask, taken aback. It's a funny joke…
"We've heard that one already, a few times actually." Morgan explains with a pointed look at Reid. Ah. So somebody on this team can tell a funny freakin' joke. I never would have suspected.
"Let's proceed, please." Stoneface looks at least mildly amused. Its not right, though… like a crack in a Michelangelo. I think I actually prefer the perma-scowl.
"Where's Garcia?" Inquires Reid.
"I am so sorry I am late, its just been a really," the robust, colorful woman pauses, "WHERE. DID. YOU. GET. THAT. SKIRT?" This has to be the best introduction to date.
"I know, right? I didn't even believe it when I saw it. I was like, 'WHAT?'-"
"Its like IKAT, but funkier!" She gestures to me as I stand up, which is proceeded by a gasp as she takes in the whole bizarre ensemble.
"You are my hero."
"I love your earrings, but they look like they hurt." I toy with one of the enormous hoops she's wearing before we are cut off by somebody's throat clearing.
"Need a lozenge?" I ask the Unit Chief, turning back to my strange yet familiar new friend. We introduce ourselves jovially before I sit back down and Garcia practically skips over to the plasma screen on the opposite wall. We're "briefed" on a case- a consultation, actually, to which Agents Morgan, Reid and myself are assigned, in Albuquerque. A suspect in custody but unwilling to cooperate with the police, and legal retention time was almost up. With some mild resistance from Morgan, we agree to go for a confession. They look surprised when Hotchner assigns me, but they obviously don't question these decisions. After some snarky comment about any suspect being a good suspect by me, we are dismissed, and Garcia and I quickly resume our conversation. I need to know where she shops.
The jet is really kind of cozy. Now aware of the actual use of government money, I can stop feeling so bad about how much of it I'd helped myself to in the past.
"This is pretty standard, right?" I ask Morgan and Reid, seated across from me.
"Yeah, about as textbook as it gets, actually." Reid replies.
"So why cant they nail this guy?" Supplies Morgan. Are the catalysts for the greatest profiles rhetorical questions, or what, because this is the third one I've counted since we boarded the plane.
"I think that might be the problem. We're looking at this like we know he's guilty. But if I know the Albuquerque Police Department, and I do, mind you, then most of what we're looking at has either been assumed or misconstrued." Morgan looks at me like I'm crazy. Huh…
"You're saying this suspect isn't our UnSub?" I start to laugh.
"What's so funny?" He asks. I may have touched a nerve.
"Say that again."
"I said, so you don't think this is our UnSub?" He's getting angry with my giggles. But this is just too much. Another choking peal of laughter overtakes me, wiping at my quickly tearing eyes, "UnSub" is all that I manage to spit out. I need a few moments to recover.
Odd looks. I explain.
"It's like a breadless sub sandwich. Like a club in a lettuce wrap or something."
"Are you serious right now?" Morgan is bothered.
"I don't jest, sir, that is ridiculous."
Reid looks completely lost. "Perhaps we ought to call them something else for the time being." He quietly supplies to Morgan. I can see the fear of getting slapped in his eyes.
"As I was saying, though, I do believe that this is likely our lettuce wrap. However, if we approach him as guilty, we might miss something that the police also missed in the pre-arrest investigative process which could have made a confession much easier to obtain, which would in turn make all of us look completely useless, and a criminal might get to best law enforcement and walk free, which we wouldn't want… none of us."
"Okay, so say, maybe this guy isn't our UnSub," begins Morgan, and I cant help the snort that escapes, followed by the serious-agent-man glare "so we approach this like any other case in which we haven't identified a suspect yet." Apparently that needed to be reiterated. A serious nod from Reid.
"Righto." I also cant help the wink I throw at Reid. He blushes like a schoolgirl.