A Story Doth the Petal Tell

The team sat in the conference room staring at the images projected on the screen. It appeared they were facing something a bit different than their previous cases. Not that any two cases were exactly the same, this one just seemed to have a strange twist. The woman they were looking at now had no visible signs of struggle or injury. In fact, if they hadn't known better, she looked as though she were sleeping. The only thing that may have given it away was the fact her hands were folded primly across her abdomen and a sprig of flowers were trapped in between her fingers. A close-up showed a crimson flower with triangular petals and a shocking burst of gold in the center.

"Nelly Cantrell, forty years old." J.J. announced as she flipped through the pictures onscreen. A routine well practiced by now. She faced the table again and looked at her colleagues.

"Born, raised, and murdered in Baraboo, Wisconsin. A little town that hasn't seen much violent crime." She added, a small town seeming to mean a more personal case.

"This says cause of death has been filed as Hemlock poisoning." Gideon read out loud from his file, he looked up, peering over his glasses at the blonde woman.

"Is this correct?" he asked, unsure if he should actually believe what he was reading. J.J. nodded without hesitation, she hadn't believed it either and had doubled checked with coroner herself to be sure he had done a full chemical analysis. The man had assured he had done everything by the book. Hemlock was the killer. Morgan shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

"That's a little old school if you ask me." He said, not sure if dying by a plant chemical was that pleasant a way to go. Reid gave a hum of agreement still engrossed in the file.

"Very old school actually—" he said, finally looking up from the paper before him, "Hemlock poisoning was the execution of choice in ancient Greece. It's also the most theorized poison used in the death of Socrates. The plant itself produces an Alkaloid known as Coniine, deadly when ingested." The others took this into consideration as they tried to form the foundation for a strong profile.

"So—what, we're looking for someone with a green-thumb?" Prentiss asked finally. The thought was a strong one; though Hotch made his own point.

"In a town this small? How many people could you speculate, garden in their spare time?" They were all quiet for a moment, regarding this new case somewhat unsurely. Flowers and poison by plants was one thing, figuring out who did it was another. Finally Gideon pushed his chair back and stood, the others following suit. Hotch giving them their orders.

"We leave first thing in the morning, get home, get packed and get some rest." The team nodded and started to file out. Reid gathered up his paper pile and turned to leave the room when he realized Grace was standing in the doorway.

"Grace! What—What are you doing here? Is everything all right?" Grace gave him a grin, walking into the conference room.

"I couldn't help but overhear you were leaving." Reid's eyes darted from the files in front of him to her and back again. He had no idea how he was going to tell her he was flying to another state in less than sixteen hours.

"Uh, yeah actually. We have a case in Wisconsin, I have to go home and get my stuff together." This made Grace smile somewhat wider, which confused Reid. He just assumed she would be upset about him having to leave.

"Well, that's great hun—but don't you think you'll need these first?' she stuck her hand out in front of her and jingled a ring of keys that was quite familiar to the genius. He gave a sheepish smile and walked over to take them from her.

"I didn't realize I had left them." Grace gave a shrug.

"You left them on one of my many, never going to be unpacked, boxes. I've heard, somewhere, those little beauties are good for opening things, you know, like doors." The two laughed at Reid's absentmindedness until Aydan popped around the corner, eyes wide at the sights he was seeing. A real FBI office was apparently, the coolest thing ever. He tugged on his mother's shirt hem, grabbing her attention.

"What is it honey?" she said, his wide-eyed stare too adorable to pass up.

"This is where they get the bad guys Mommy." He said excitedly. He was entirely too involved to care whether she replied or not. She shook her head as he hurried to the railing they were standing next to and peered around the office, drinking in the experience.

"We just wanted to drop those off, you better get home before it gets too late." She turned to go when the close-up of a flower caught her eye.

"Huh," she started, "looks like someone was naughty." Reid followed her gaze to the photo. He looked back at her, eyebrow raised.

"Why would you say that?" Grace gave a slight shrug.

"That's Hellebore, often associated with scandal." Reid looked back at the picture and then to Grace once more. He raised a hand as things started to fall into place.

"Wait here, I need to get the team together." He ran off down the hall, hoping no one had left yet. It seemed he was onto something.

With the team gathered together again and with them staring at her, Grace felt a bit like she should belong in a circus. Aydan had immediately run into the room and into one of the many rolling chairs, he was soon experimenting with it, only frazzling his mother's nerves a bit more. On the other hand, she couldn't figure out why Reid had left her standing there alone, but she assumed he had a good reason. Finally he pointed at the picture as he spoke.

"Grace mentioned something that got me to thinking. These flowers aren't just a last minute thought from a gardener. They're messages." The group turned to look at Grace who suddenly felt what being put on the spot was.

"You know something about flowers?" Gideon asked. Grace nodded, still wondering what she was supposed to be saying.

"Considering my business is flowers and I have a fascination with them, I decided I needed to learn all I could about the subject." Hotch crossed his arms across his chest, unsure of what Reid was getting at.

"So you're saying this flower means something other than it being a flower?" Grace nodded again.

"I can't be positive about your case, but yes, from what I know, Hellebore is used to imply or convey scandal." She replied, while Morgan, always the skeptic questioned further.

"How do you know this?" Grace began to answer while she stuck a hand out to stop Aydan from spinning in the chair he was sitting in. He looked up and gave a silly smile as his mother explanation of her sudden expertise.

"What I've come across in my research is that in the Victorian era, flowers were used as a way to communicate in a very proper and rigid setting. In that age, one's social reputation was constantly in view of one's peers. So a way to counter any negative talk was to use flowers as messages." She said confidently, it had actually been very interesting learning about all the different species of flowers and which ones were meant for what. As more eyebrows rose, Prentiss asked,

"So, when those Valentine's Day commercials advertise roses as a way to say 'I Love You', they aren't kidding?" Grace gave a conceding nod.

"Roses are somewhat of a cliché anymore, but yes, in most cases they were meant to say I love you—flowers could also be used as a woman's reply to propositions from suitors. For instance, a carnation with stripes is known as a refusal or rejection to something." Morgan gave snort.

"Nice, you ask a girl to marry you, she sends you flowers that say no." He said. Grace gave him a crooked smile.

"Well it's better than a poke in the eye—I suppose getting flowers rather than public humiliation is better than nothing." The men agreed after a moment. The team pondered over the flower involved in their current case. What did scandal have to do with anything?

"We should see if the victim was involved in anything that could be considered scandalous." Morgan said, breaking the silence, the others agreed.

"We might be dealing with someone who has a vendetta against those they find unworthy, or it might be something we haven't thought of yet." Gideon said, somewhere, far away in his thoughts. It was this moment that J.J.'s phone rang. She took it into the hall to answer it only to return moments later.

"They've just found another one." She announced. Grace's eyes snapped to Reid, her question dying on her lips as she realized that "they've found another one" meant yet another person had been found dead. She never would understand why people did what they did. It was a good thing Reid did. Gideon didn't sit idly, he got to his feet the moment her heard J.J.'s announcement and was heading out the door. He stopped only to look at Grace for a moment.

"We'll need you as a consultant—think you can be ready in an hour?" he didn't even give her time to answer before he left the room. She had to choke back a retort when Hotch came over with his hands up in surrender. He could tell she was irked by Gideon's lack of finesse.

"Agent Hotchner," Grace started, "I can't go with you. For one, I just got here, two, I'm trying to finalize a loan for my shop and three I can't just pack up and leave my son here." Hotch nodded in understanding. Gideon hadn't had to deal with young children in a long while. He was so focused in his work it appeared he forgot all the common sensibilities of parenthood. Of course manners escaped him as well. Hotch rested a hand on Grace's shoulder.

"I understand Grace, I had to deal with those sorts of things my first day here as well. I assure you," he said with his usual stoic voice, "we can't make you come with us—however, your knowledge with these flowers is invaluable at the moment. Can we use that to our advantage over the phone, perhaps?" he finished, ever the diplomat. Grace nodded.

"I'd be happy to help any way I can Agent Hotchner. You'll just have to send me photos to cross-reference with my notes." She said, while Reid looked at her somewhat incredulous.

"You have notes?" he asked, while Grace rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Spencer, I have notes." Before the two could poke fun at one another Hotch gave her a final nod.

"We'll get you those photos as soon as we can. Your help is greatly appreciated." Grace gave a nod, knowing a dismissal when she saw one. Carefully she hauled the now exhausted Aydan onto her hip, heading out into the bullpen area and to her car. Reid followed her out into the street after grabbing his bag. He'd have to hurry home to get fresh clothes anyway. The elevator ride down to the ground floor was silent, however, as they headed to her car, Reid spoke up.

"Grace, I-I'm sorry if I put you in a spot back there. When I figure things out, I get a little excited." Grace smiled at him as they closed the distance to her vehicle.

"It's ok Spencer. I'm glad to help, just tell me before you bring the "brute squad" in." She replied, laughing. She sighed, fumbling for her keys as Aydan fell asleep against her shoulder. Reid was quick to jump to her aid, finding the keys and opening the doors for her. Grace strapped the sleepy little boy in and tuned to Reid once more.

"This is the second time we've said goodbye today." She pointed out as she prepared to leave. Reid nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.

"We'll be in touch though." Grace nodded.

"Yeah, there's that—just promise me you'll come back in one piece?" Reid tilted his head.

"I can't promise—" at her look of disappointment he tried again, "I can't promise anything, but I can do my best." Grace smiled and leaned forward, kissing him softly.

"That's better then nothing." She said as she got in her car. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Reid gave s big sigh. So far so good with what required of him.

Hopefully, he thought to himself, the team could figure out what happened and catch this killer so they could come home. Something he hadn't thought he would ever hope for. He also hoped Grace would be able to help them from long distance.

He hoped that the flowers would keep telling a story.