My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV. A little more comedic than my other fic's,
I'm kind trying out a new writing story.
So read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)
x
Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Despite the triple shot of caffeine I'd had, I slept like a baby in the car. All I remembered was getting in, trying to focus on the words the speakers sang out rather than how close Rossi was and then the next thing I knew I was surrounded by beeping.
I pulled my eyes open and found myself in the middle of the city. Rossi was singing along to the radio, surprisingly in tune. Men that charming should not be allowed to both cook and sing. It just wasn't fair on the female population.
"Good afternoon," he said charmingly as he noticed me awaken. He didn't even look at me. It just wasn't fear. "We're here."
"What happened to the plane?" I asked, my voice groggy with sleep. I rubbed my eyes, careful not to damage my makeup too badly.
"JJ and Morgan took it," he said as if I should already have known. I guessed it had been discussed at the meeting whilst I was too busy dreaming of Rossi.
"Oh yeah," I said, in my best 'I knew that' voice.
Rossi's laugh suggested he didn't believe me.
"Want a coffee first? I know a great place."
I must have groaned, cause he laughed again. "Yes please."
The coffee shop was more of a lounge with cozy orange couches to cuddle on, coffee tables to rest your feet on and cute little bistro tables to eat and chat around. The atmosphere was warm and inviting and I never wanted to leave. Whilst I stood and surveyed the room Rossi ordered. When I came back, he already had a number.
"How'd you know what I wanted?"
"You got me to get you coffee once before, remember?"
My mind flicked back to his room. It was an somewhat modern apartment, with tall windows that stood from floor to ceiling and a bed in the centre of the room with expensive sheets and thousands of pillows and cuddly blankets. He kissed at my neck, his hands, rough, made there way down my sides, cupped my breasts. I pushed my head back into one of the many pillows, moaned.
"Coffee?" He asked against my soft skin.
"Oh God Yes."
Somehow while I'd been remembering he'd moved up to be right in front of me, his mouth of by my ear. "I seem to remember you were rather grateful for that cup of coffee."
My heart rate was back up to a thousand miles a minute. By the end of the case I'd be lucky if my heart was still in my chest.
"Don't get your hopes up on the same display of gratitude," I managed to tell him, feeling rather ballsy. I even managed to push my way past him to the table. When he joined me I took the files he'd smartly brought in from him and started reading, though I'd left my reading glasses in the car. Each word intensified my headache. But if I let myself look up at him I might just have given up my gutsy resolve.
"What do you think?" Rossi asked me after enough silence.
"What?"
"The case. What do you think?"
I let my mind trace back over the cases she'd read about. Each killed the same way, a point blank shot to the forehead, and each had ligature marks around their wrists and some even had then around the ankles. There was evidence that they had all been gagged. "From the evidence, my money would be on mob hit."
"My thoughts exactly."
The coffee came, we drank, then we were on the way to the police station. One of the best things about Rossi was, however annoyingly seductive he was, he could turn off when it was necessary. When working a case, at least whilst in the company of other persons, he counted it as necessary. Hopefully it'd give my heart a break.
"Special Agents Rossi and Prentiss?"
The woman that greeted us was my height but more muscular. Her skin was a light brown, only shades lighter than the brunette of her hair. Despite her great build she wore straight jeans that showed nothing of her legs, a loosely fitting, tucked in white shirt and a flattening jacket. A woman in a man's word, I knew exactly how she felt.
"That's us," I smiled politely.
"We're glad you've come."
"It's what we do," Rossi stated, his eyes scanning the room, assessing.
And just like that, we were all business.
"Well thanks anyway," she smiled, looking to me rather than Rossi, acknowledging his lack of attention but not really caring. It was nice to have somebody who didn't resent their presence their. Though, after a year, I too would be happy for any small bit of help.
She introduced us around, to the head detective on the case, a big guy with greying hair, a wrinkled face and reading glasses dangling off a tie around her neck over his grey suit. His name was Williams, and I guessed Williams was old school cop. If they were on the same wavelength, I could see him and Rossi getting on well, if they were on opposing sides, it was likely all hell would break loose. Her name was Stacy Tobin, and the other assisting officer, Scott Buckland, a youngen who'd probably jumped at the chance to be on the case a year ago and was now wishing he hadn't been so lucky.
"You up to date?" Williams asked.
Rossi nodded. "But give us your once over anyway."
The man nodded, assessing Rossi as Rossi did the same to him. "Twenty people dead. All different nationalities, ages, sexes. First in this spree was a year ago next week."
"This spree?" I asked.
"We've had similar before," Tobin explained.
"We'll need those files," Rossi told her before turning back to Williams, motioning him on.
Tobin handed off the collecting of files to Buckland as Williams continued. "They've been found all over the city. Some washed up, some were found buried." I made a mental note to draw up one of those maps Spencer always did, they seemed to help so what was the harm. If they really were going up against the mob they were going to need as much as they could. "We've still got five of the bodies in the morgue collecting dust."
"And the gun was the same Colt 1911 MKIV Series 80?" I asked.
To give him credit, Williams' eyes widened only a little bit. "That's right ma'am. The burning around the bullet wound suggesting-"
"It was pushed right up against their foreheads," I finished. It all did fit with the stereotypical mafia execution, right down to the swimming with the fishes part.
"So what to you need our help with?" Rossi asked. I got his question, what could we do to help them, other than give them access to FBI resources. And then I clicked, FBI resources. No wonder they welcomed us so cheerfully.
"Catching the son of a bitch," Tobin answered.
.
We started with the tedious job of rereading over all the reports and casework relating to the case. We didn't stop for dinner, Buckland ran out and brought us back noodles, and we kept on working. When my eyes started to close and the words I read stopped being held in my mind I sat back and let my eyes shut for only a moment. I stretched my arms out in front of me. I would've stood to do it had I felt I wouldn't topple over.
"Eyes starting to cross?"
I turned to see Rossi sitting at a desk across the room, too stretching. My eyes wanted desperately to shut again. "They started crossing about an hour ago."
The room around us was dark, lit only by various lamps indicating a desk still manned. There was no sound other than that of the occasional typing, the scraping of pen against paper.
"Mine too. Home time?"
If only we could go home, I thought. But the idea of the hotel room that waited, a hot shower and warm sheets was second best. It was to late to call Declan, but I could do that in the morning before he was off to school. "Please."
Rossi laughed then made his way to his feet. It took me considerably longer to do so and by the time my legs were straight he was behind me offering me my jacket to slip on. I was too exhausted to do anything but slide into it.
When we got to the car he opened my door for me and I couldn't resist, I smiled at him and got into the car, letting him shut it for me. I felt I'd already given up completely on my ballsy deviance of his advances but I was too tired to fight it. Plus, it wasn't like he was pushing me back against a wall or pulling me tight against him, he was just being nice. I wasn't sure which was more dangerous, him being nice, or him being assertively seductive.
He walked me to my room and I hoped to God he didn't try to come in because I would probably have let him. He didn't. But he did place a light kiss down on my lips.
We said good night, I walked into my hotel room with my head held high then collapsed against the door as I shut it behind me. I was a goner.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hope you liked it.
I find already, my writing style is changing as I read Emma,
but I hope the more description is to your liking. :)
x