A/N: I'm updating! Quickly too! Repay me in reviews? Show me some love? Pretty please?
Though many thanks to my reviewers so far – this one's for you! Much love :)
Disclaimer: I want hiiiiiiiiiim.
Gotta break it loose,
Gonna keep 'em movin' wild
Gonna keep a swingin' baby
I'm a real wild child
Well, I'm a real wild one
An I like a wild fun
In a world gone crazy
Everything seems hazy
I'm a wild one
Ooh yeah I'm a wild one
Real Wild Child, by Joan Jett and The Blackhearts
XXXX
Eden was not kidding about her right-hook.
Derek knew that laughing at her was not the best way to go about building her confidence but it couldn't be helped – and Eden had no pretentions to grandeur when it came to defensive moves. She'd laughed first.
And Derek had learned fast that Eden was nothing if not irresistibly joyful.
It was contagious. Her personality, her energy, her complete abandonment: she was like a bubble of dream-world in a violent reality. But Derek wasn't quite sure how to translate or explain that to the rest of the team. Or if maybe he was exaggerating it all himself and had just been on the job too long.
The BAU wasn't a place to go if one needs reassurance in mankind.
"You had a little too much sugar today, Princess? Smuggling candy Hotch doesn't know about?" He'd asked, laughing as she shook her head at her own hopelessness, on a come down from her giggle-fit.
"Are you kidding? You should see me when I am on a sugar-high! This is nothing, my friend."
"Girls like you should come with a warning label."
She grinned, flicking a curl from her eye line and squinting slightly in the sun; "Girl's like me? There are more?"
"Not exactly," he grinned, "but crazy girls are my lot in life, it seems."
Eden half-smiled and raised an eyebrow, "Then you're a lucky one, Hercules, because they're the best kind."
Watching as Garcia bee-lined towards him, styled in a hot pink dress and turquoise tights, her sunshine yellow heels clicking as she went and purple fringe falling across her cat-eye glasses, he couldn't help but wholeheartedly agree.
She handed over one of two coffee thermos' to him and perched on the edge of the desk he sat by. "Spill, handsome."
Derek cocked his head to the side, "Spill? That's all I get? No, 'I'll show you a good morning, hot stuff?' No, 'Working up a storm today, my chocolate thunder?' Spill is all you're showing me? That ain't right, Babygirl."
"Don't stall. Just talk." She widened her eyes slightly and looked pointedly down on him, as the rest of the team began to file in and set up their desks for the day.
"Talk about what, Beautiful? How you're killing it in those shoes today?" He wiggled his eyebrows with a cheeky grin and Garcia smiled at his flirtations, in spite of herself.
"Some things don't need saying, they just are, my Masterpiece. Now quit with the flattery – though not for long – and start filling us in on Hotch's new housemate! What's going on? Are they doing the nasty in the playroom?"
"What?! Babygirl, what are you talking about?! Of course not!"
Garcia tilted her head, "The kitchen, then? The shower? Don't tell me it's the study, that's so Kennedy and Marilyn I can barely contain myself!" Morgan shook his head, a smile of disbelief across his face.
"They're not doing any nasty, anywhere so get your mind out of the gutter, Babygirl."
Emily suddenly appeared by his other side, "That's an awful quick defence – maybe there's a reason Mr Ladies Man doesn't want to picture it…" She grinned her teasing smile as she peered through his case files, casually switching a few that she knew would be better suited to him and vice versa.
"And maybe that reason is because it's not true."
"What's not true?" Spencer joined in, removing his messenger bag from his shoulders and placing it on his desk, attention on the three conversing members of his team. He could see Morgan exasperatingly shaking his head, Emily in her gentle prying stance and Garcia, as usual, pert and alert to any new information. It seemed personal, not work related, but certainly interesting. "Something going on?"
"Derek has a crush on Hotch's new nanny." Spencer's brow rose and he managed to resist pointing out that Hotch didn't require a nanny, and technically the correct phrasing would have been 'Jack's new nanny'. Before he could though, Garcia continued, speaking over Derek's spluttering too. "Is she pretty? Sexy? Does she give you butterflies in your stomach and make you squirm like a five-year-old girl?"
Emily and Garcia shared a laugh while Spencer tilted his head, observing, wondering if that strange 'kissing song' was about to come up again. Morgan let loose a sigh before answering anything, putting down his coffee mug and booting up his computer. "I don't have a crush on her."
"But you do think she's pretty." Emily stated, catching Reid's eye as she profiled Derek's closed-off body language. Avoiding the question. Psycho-analysis 101.
"Oh! Will there be little chocolate babies running round for me to love, adore and corrupt?" Morgan snapped his head in Garcia's direction, looked at her as though she were crazy, before swiftly turning to Emily, and then back again, like watching a tennis match.
"There will be no babies, mama and you need to stop hoping there'll be duplicates of me. There's only one Derek Morgan." A silence followed, during which Morgan didn't need to look up in order to know his friends were awaiting the rest of his reply. He sighed and rolled his eyes before lolling back in his spinning chair. "Look, the kid's beautiful; a blind man could see it. But she's just that: a kid. Hotch isn't gonna go there, they're like family, and I sure as hell am not about to touch a 23-year-old student that's living with my boss."
"Oh, I get it," Emily responded, "She a little too pupil for the teacher?"
Garcia laughed and Morgan smiled but shook his head, "What does that even mean?"
Secretly, Spencer was glad he'd asked and it wasn't his own naivety causing a lack of understanding, but rather Emily's own mixed metaphors. He furrowed his eyebrows.
"It means," Garcia began, turning her head to look at Spencer, catching him with her gaze and holding him still, like a deer caught in headlights. Spencer felt like he should be worried about what was coming, "Would our Boy-Genius here be a better match for the Minxy-Minder?"
"Minxy-Minder?" Spencer mimicked.
"You're losing your touch, Mama." Derek agreed. She slapped him on the shoulder before standing and turning to face Spencer fully.
"I'm working on it; she's a new development, give a girl some time. Jeez. But what do you say, Boy-Wonder? She's not too far off your age and you could do with a little lovin' at the end of these brutal work days."
Emily let out a little sound of agreement, "Tell me about it; we all could."
Spencer fought the heat trying to get to his cheeks and sat down, attempting to look distracted, "Five years, in terms of relationships when young, especially pre-thirty, is actually a distinctive amount of time between couples, given particularly that women change predominantly through ages 25 to 30 whereas men develop the most between ages 30 and 35."
"So that's a 'no', then?" Emily grinned.
"Ah, my young protégée, you will learn that love is nothing if not the be all and end all, no matter how many facts are floating up in that endless universe of rationality you call a brain." Garcia sent him a look of fake sympathy before taking a swig of her coffee. Spencer rolled his eyes.
"Since all you've told me is her age, and that she's considered attractive by societal standards, there's hardly bound to be any kind of non-rational sentiment applied. You've given me nothing else to go on."
Morgan nodded, leaning back, "Kid's got a point. Why haven't you done your thing and magicked up her details? Would have saved us this torment, at the least."
"Torment? You do me an injustice – I'm nothing if not the final curtain." She winked at him, "Besides, Hotch had her records sealed."
Morgan shrugged, "So unseal them."
"Did you not hear me? I said that Hotch himself had her details sealed. As in, 'Do Not Disturb.' 'Enter at your own peril.' 'Danger: High Voltage.' And I like my job, thank you very much." Garcia gesticulated, eyes wide.
"Course you do, you get to see me every day." Derek grinned, while Emily rolled her eyes with a very unsubtle, 'Ew.'
She followed, "Guess you'll just have to learn as you go like the rest of us, Penelope: slow and steady."
Garcia groaned, "But that's so human."
"Welcome to our world, Babygirl."
XXXX
Eden stood by the door, hands on hips, "Go-Bag?"
"Check."
"Jacket in case the weather turns? Or they send you to the artic?"
"Check."
"Your mobile?"
"Always."
"And money for lunch?"
Hotch sighed and tilted his head, amused, "Yes, mother, I have the means to feed myself, just as I have the means of clothing myself and the capacity to look after myself."
"For now, but if the big kids at school try to steal your dinner you go right ahead and tell the teacher – bullies are like spiders, they're more scared of you as you are of them." Eden grinned as she handed him a tupplewear box she'd kept hidden behind her on the table by the door. "Do me a favour and take these to your beloved team for me, will you?"
He quirked an eyebrow, "Cookies?"
"Double Chocolate Chip, Honey and Nut, Oatmeal and Raisin and Peanut-Butter and Jelly." He continued to look at her sceptically, examining her as her eyes became wide with innocence and her face nonplussed, "What? Sugar makes people happy. And in your line-of-work, people need all the happy they can get. Ergo," She gestured to the box, "Sugar."
Eden knew she was dealing with a profiler. Knew that he was probably seeing through her and gathered that there was more to it than she was letting on. She inwardly cringed as she thought of someway to deter him from digging deeper…
"And maybe I'm hoping Derek might overindulge himself a little and the next time he tries to make me eat mat he'll be a little too out of breath from his own eating?"
Hotch chuckled, "You know you're putting my team in jeopardy if that happens?"
"Not if works really well; then you can all just use him as a human shield…"
Eden smiled innocently, while Hotch shook his head with a grin, "I'll pass them on."
"Thank you, kindly. Now, come on," she checked her delicate silver wrist watch, one Hotch noted he never saw her without. A family heirloom, more than likely. "It's time to face the music!" She smiled, a little sadly, as though she didn't want him to go. And truthfully, she didn't… Because what if he never came back? She shut her eyes briefly, squeezed them together for a second and then resumed normality with a clearer mind. "Jack! Come on, love, it's time to say good-bye to Super Man!"
The hurried tapping of little feet came through from the playroom as Jack, still in his pyjamas, came running through with full momentum and jumped into his father's arms.
"Daddy isn't Super Man!" He corrected her, as Eden rose her brow, "He's an FBI Agent! And they're better than Super Man!" She smiled as the father and son shared a grin – the same grin, she noted – and held close to each other.
"That's right, little buddy, time to catch some bad guys. You be good for Eden while I'm gone, ok? And don't eat too many of the other batch of cookies she thinks she's hidden in the tool-cupboard." He an amused glance at her fake look of unawareness, eyes looking upward and a silent whistle falling from posed lips. "And when you play hide-and-seek, don't make it too hard on her: she's still a rookie."
Eden laughed as Jack nodded solemnly, "I know, daddy; but she'll learn soon, right?"
"I hope so, buddy, I hope so." Hotch laughed and Jack grinned, as the former gave the boy a kiss on the forehead.
"Alright, you devils, you've had your fun! Now off with you, Inspector Gadget: time to take on the world again." She smiled as she picked Jack up herself and he hugged her round the neck, feeling pathetically short as she realised he really wasn't that far off the ground in her arms.
Well, at least if I drop him, it won't be too painful…
Again, she squeezed her eyes shut. Drop him? You are not going to drop him! Stop thinking of the worst-case scenarios, jeez!
"I'll see you later guys, have fun and take care of each other," he looked at them pointedly, "And stay out of trouble."
They both grinned in return, Jack in his little Peter Pan pjs and Eden, dark curls a mess and dressed in leggings and an old, grey University of Cambridge top that was obviously well loved over the years. They were the picture of serenity for Hotch and he smiled. "We'll try, but I can't make any promises," Eden teased, as Jack continued to grin and wave.
"Bye, daddy!"
"Go get 'em, tiger."
Hotch laughed as he left, closing the door behind him, already excited about opening it again on his return.
XXXX
"Why would Hotch have her files sealed?" Spencer questioned, tearing his eyes from a case file in his hands. About a minute of silence had passed: well, silence on his part, Garcia and Morgan had fallen into typical flirtatious banter and Emily had begun to work on consulting cases for local PD's as he had.
But the question had been nagging at him. What was there to hide?
Emily smiled, "Why are you so interested?" Spencer didn't miss the look that his three older teammates shared but chose to ignore it. He shrugged, trying to appear indifferent.
"Just curious. It seems a little strange, is all."
Morgan shrugged, "Probably because he knew that we'd use it to our advantage… I did hear something a bowl-cut yesterday, though."
Garcia and Emily winced before laughing slightly, shaking their heads; "We've all been there." Emily sympathised, while Garcia shook her head.
"Speak for yourself, sweetness: I've always been Goldilocks – no kitchen utensils for me, cheri."
"What's a bowl-cut?" Spencer asked and Morgan just grinned like a cat.
"You don't want to know, Pretty Boy, trust me."
Spencer just lifted his brow and took his word for it.
"It is a little weird, though," Emily piped in, "I don't think he ever did that before. Where Haley's records sealed?"
Garcia tilted head, unsure, "I never really had to check – she was here before I was so I didn't feel the need to bother… except after Foyet, then her and Jack had their records wiped…"
Emily nodded a little in understanding, while a small silence fell over them for a moment. Spencer was the one to break it. "It is curious though…"
"If it's such a big deal, kid," he nodded toward the opening doors to the bullpen, just in time to see Hotch hurry through, briefcase in hand and… a packed lunch, maybe? "Ask him yourself."
It goes without saying that the subject ceased at that moment.
"Morning." Hotch glossed as he paced over to them all, receiving various hellos in return, and a simple wave from Spencer. "JJ dropping Henry off at school today?"
Garcia nodded, "Will's working a double at the station." She tilted her head and eyed the box in his hand, "You brought your own lunch, sir?"
Morgan and Emily hid teasing grins with their coffee cups, while Spencer chimed in, "Actually there's just been a huge scandal in England about finding horse-meat in certain beef products in supermarkets that's called awareness to the fact that if the food is served to you there's no knowing where it's come from. A packed lunch is probably a smart idea."
Hotch looked between them all as he placed the box in the middle of them, "Actually, they're for you guys, from Eden."
"Ooooh," Morgan dived in, pulling away the lid to release a delicious aroma of baked goods and at least 20 cookies of differing varieties. Spencer felt his mouth begin to water and became very aware of how meagre his breakfast was. His breakfast having been espresso. "Well my day just started looking up."
He extracted one and moaned as he took a bite, Garcia watching him with a sultry look. Emily smiled, "That's nice of her. You hire Martha Stewart or something?"
"I hope not," Hotch replied, "I don't have the time to look for her replacement if it turns out she's done a turn in state pen." He began to head away from them and up the stairs to his office, "It's all about the maths, apparently: sugar equals happy, 'ergo, sugar.'" Morgan grinned, rubbed his hands together and then reached for another, "But try to limit yourself, Morgan, for the sake of the team."
Emily, Garcia and Spencer laughed as Derek looked shocked, "And what's that supposed to mean, Chief?"
But Hotch had already disappeared into his office.
Spencer reached for a cookie as playful banter continued between Emily and Morgan about the latter's insatiable appetite when something caught his eye. A napkin.
Or, more specifically, the note that had been written on it.
Garcia watched him carefully as Spencer unfurled the cloth and read it in the blink of an eye, an automatic profile forming in his head. The backward slant, projecting a laidback nature; the upward tilt of capital Ts, insinuating enthusiasm; the curls and loops of her lowercase letters signifying a youthful and exaggerated disposition –
His thoughts were cut short by Garcia.
"Whatch-ya got there, handsome?"
"It's a note," Spencer explained, catching Morgan and Emily's attention too, not taking his eyes from the cloth, "It's addressed to 'The A-Team.'"
Morgan let out a laugh, "That's definitely from Eden; what's it say?"
Spencer began to read aloud:
The A-Team,
I hope you don't mind the underhand means of communication, however, I thought this mission would call for the unexpected and the cunning.
And I don't have anybody's cell numbers.
Carrier Pigeon has fallen through for me before.
As you probably already know, it's Aaron's birthday next Sunday and I would like to cordially invite you all to a barbecue-garden-party in celebration of this momentous occasion.
No need to bring anything but yourselves and loved ones.
And maybe someone who knows how to barbecue?
Hercules, I'm looking at you here.
Festivities to commence around 2.
Hope to see you all there with bells on!
Much love, and excitement in abundance,
Eden.
P.S – hope you enjoy the cookies (especially you, Morgan. Come on, now: eat up.)
P.P.S – Really looking forward to meeting you all.
P.P.P.S – don't tell Aaron. Mission to remain secret at all costs.
The team looked to each other, having laughed through parts of the note, with incredulous faces and expressions of surprise. "Well," Emily began, "She certainly sounds unique." Spencer nodded in agreement, a small, strange smile on his face.
"Oh trust me, she's one of a kind," Derek grinned, "You're gonna love her."
"I think Garcia already does," Emily laughed, pointing at Penelope who was looking in awe from her half-eaten cookie to the note in Reid's hands.
"She is my idea of heaven." She snapped out of it before pointedly looking between Morgan and Reid, "I don't care which one of you it is, but one of you needs to marry this girl. Now. And start having miniature Genius' or Studs because the more people who can bake like this, the more love there will be in the world."
Derek laughed deeply, shaking his head while Reid just tiled his head contemplatively, "Sugar does equal happy, apparently." He murmured, before training his eyes back on the letter in his hands. He was intrigued, there was no denying it.
"Oh, JJ's here," Garcia interrupted, jolting them all from the moment, "To the conference room we go, guys." She stood pin-straight, grabbed the case files she'd thrown on Morgan's desk and the box of cookies from the middle, tucking them under her arm as she led them through to the round table, knocking on Rossi and Hotch's doors as she went.
JJ entered the bullpen, "Morning guys; did I miss much?"
Emily laughed as Derek and Reid shared a sly, amused look; "You could say that," Emily answered, picking her jacket off the back of her chair and heading up the stairs next to JJ, "I'll fill you in on the jet."
The boys followed, walking briskly, shadowing the scent of baked goods almost hypnotically. Derek pretended not to notice Reid surreptitiously placing the napkin in his trouser pocket; for the time being, at least. He grinned to himself.
Now, that is interesting.
XXXX
Jack clutched Eden's hand tightly as they traversed the busy sidewalk, concentrating more on the mint-choc-chip icecream cone in his hand than the shop windows, which contained a medley of things: flowers, clothes, antiques, furniture, antique furniture. Eden knew she should have been exploring the exhibits too, but was distracted by her own bubblegum flavoured treat.
It was a good day.
The sun was shining and warm on her skin, the skimming breeze just heavy enough to keep a comfortable temperature but light enough to avoid blowing up the loose skirt of her white summer-dress. Dark sunglasses perched on her nose and every now and then she caught Jack looking at his reflection in them, tilting his head and getting confused at whether he was speaking to her or himself when he addressed her.
They'd been walking for a couple of hours when they'd stopped by a cute diner for a bite for lunch and then continued their stroll (a stroll that should have been a mission-based hunt to uncover a momentous present for his dad for Hotch's birthday) with an icecream for extra momentum.
The gift-hunt wasn't going stupendously, but the two were definitely enjoying themselves – and that at least meant the day was fruitful in her eyes.
She loved spending time with Jack.
"Ok, so let's see: daddy already has a watch," Jack nodded in agreement with a quick 'ya-huh', "he has clothes, ties, pens, a briefcase that he loves, enough aftershave to single-handedly destroy the Ozone layer, thanks to your Aunt Jessica's traditional Christmas presents…" She sighed, and took a pause to lick at her icecream, "What to get the man who has everything?"
Jack just continued with his dessert.
"Any ideas, young padawan?"
The nickname lit a spark in his eyes, "Can we watch Star Wars when we're done-" he paused for a second to concentrate, "When we're done pe-rus-ing?"
Eden grinned in pride, "Absolutely! But we need to keep perusing for now until we find something for daddy's birthday, ok?" She subtly corrected his pronunciation but was touched by how well he'd taken to her word-of-the-day ritual.
Jack nodded triumphantly, a grin on his messy face. Eden laughed and stopped them for a second, turning to face him and crouching in order to wipe the sticky dessert from around his mouth with a babywipe stored in her handbag, taking his icecream in order to clean his hands too.
She had come well prepared.
Jack began to laugh and Eden grinned back, quirking an eyebrow, "What's so funny, mister?"
"It tickles," Jack raised his shoulders, as though he were a tortoise ready to pop his head in his shell, still smiling.
"Oh," Eden nodded, "It tickles, does it?" Jack laughed a little, but didn't answer, just looked at her with twinkling eyes, "Well, if that tickles, then this must be really tickly!" Her fingers gently rubbed his sides as Jack let out shrieks of laughter from her one-handed attack, her other hand holding both hers and Jack's icecreams – or what was left of them – securely.
"S-Stop! Sto-op! Edeeeeeeeeen!" He laughed out and she joined in, halting her attack and placing a quick kiss on his nose, his cheeks flushed and eyes wide. She grinned back at him, handing over his icecream.
"You're lucky you're cute, padawan."
Jack beamed, though more at the nickname than the compliment. It was the favourite out of the bundle she'd designed for him – and one that she used for nobody else. It was all his. And he loved it, just as he loved the Star Wars franchise. And just as he loved Eden.
It was there thing. Or one of them, at least.
It was then that Eden spotted something in the window behind her little one, and a smile of triumph etched across her face as she looked down to Jack beside her, "I think I may have just found daddy's birthday present!"
XXXX
A/N: Okaaaay, so it may not be an actual meeting but it's contact! And in the next one it begins!
Review and it gets here quicker ;)