Acceptable Risk -

.Chapter 5.

Surprisingly, Emily was up by 7am despite falling asleep near dawn. She was ready and was in the kitchen when Reid and Hotch made their appearances together.

Mrs. Johnson was finishing up breakfast which consisted of French Toasts, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and a big pot of coffee. Emily had prepped her the day before that Americans were not used to kippers and herrings in the morning along with their toast.

Emily, her face still bruised, tried to cover as much as she could but she couldn't escape the close scrutiny of her housekeeper who kept staring at her.

Finally, Emily sighed and said, "Okay, out with it, Mrs. Johnson," she shook her head as she nursed her second cup of coffee. She was wearing a maroon turtle neck light sweater. Her neck was bruised too.

Mrs. Johnson shrugged her shoulders and remarked, "Just wondering if you went to battle with those two Yanks of yours last night? But of course, it's none of me business."

Emily shook her head; she didn't bother to explain to her housekeeper the bruises.

When Reid came down, he saw Emily's appearance and tried to apologized to her again, she shook her head and said softly, "I told you last night to forget about it." Out of Mrs. Johnson's earshot.

He reluctantly accepted her reasoning and a cup of hot coffee which he proceeded to doctored it with four heaping spoonful of sugar. Mrs. Johnson's eagle eyes' were wide opened as she observed his ritual. Emily just shook her head in silence.

Hotch was the last person to come down and was quiet as he accepted his cup of black coffee from Mrs. Johnson as she informed them that breakfast would be ready in a minute or so.

Emily was very conscience of his presence but she tried to remain calm on the exterior.

Hotch was inspecting the damages Reid had inflicted on her which did look a lot worse this morning than he previously thought. He looked at her whom she returned his look and he looked at the house keeper in askance, Emily shook her head once. Through their time working together in the BAU, they had come up with a language of their own that only use their eyes to communicate. This instance she told him that the house keeper did not know about the attack on her from Reid.

As soon as the house keeper served their breakfast, she excused herself from the kitchen, presumably heading to the bedrooms; Emily informed the two men that the boxes had arrived at INTERPOL office early this morning.

"And I have two days to get them interpreted it?" Reid reiterated.

Emily nodded. "That's right."

"Mmmm…this is good bacon, Emily." Reid said as he chewed on a piece with gusto, "very thick cut."

Emily smiled, "We get them at a butcher. Sam cuts it for us, as well as steaks, chops, and whatever cuts of meats we wanted."

Hotch spoke up, "You seemed familiar with your butcher; don't tell me, it's another good deed story?" He smiled at her.

Emily smiled back at him, last night's incident erased as she regaled them with the tale of Sam the butcher and how they became well acquainted:

By the time they had finisher with breakfast, the two men were laughing so hard, and tears were leaking out of their eyes.

"And so," she concluded. "Sam, stuck with a whole truck full of live pigs and nowhere to place them, decided to put them in his house. There were pigs everywhere. His wife, Molly, got so pissed at him, started to chase him all over with a cleaver but the neighbors came and started to ask him for cuts. And so, Sam grabbed the first pig he could get a hold of and dragged it to the barn and whack! Pork Chops! Bacon! Ribs! The orders kept coming in. In the end, it saved his farm and house. Until now, no one knew where those pigs come from." Emily said innocently. But Hotch, who knew Emily and could read her easily, smiled. She caught his knowing looks and turned from him blushing.

Reid grinned, "That was a great story, Sam seemed lucky. If he were to be in the US, the FDA could have inspected his barn and fined him for operating without a license…"

"Reid!"Emily yelled at him, "it's a good story, don't ruin it. And besides, Sam has a butcher license or whatever license they have to have." She waved her hand about.

"Oh." Reid replied.

Emily and Hotch looked at each other as they both shook their heads; trust the genius to try to ruin a story and making it too rhetoric.

"Well, are you two done?" Emily asked as she stood up and picked up her briefcase, she was eager to set off.

The two men stood up from the kitchen table. They thanked Mrs. Johnson who had returned to the kitchen, for an excellent breakfast and left the house.

The drive to the INTERPOL building was an hour drive. Reid and Hotch were able to see some scenic sights.

Emily pointed out the necessary tourists' attraction points before they arrived at their destination and went through the security check point.

"Guess that's the perks of being the boss of the INTERPOL branch here, you get in easily." Reid pointed out as he observed the security guards waving them through quickly and easily upon seeing her.

Emily nodded, "That and the sticker on the front bumper of my car that has a barcode that was scanned when I drove through the first set of gate when we entered."

Reid looked embarrassed while Hotch shook his head; for an FBI agent, he still had a lot to learn, it seemed, and a lot of green coming out of him. He hoped that while they were there he would not show how naïve he was. Hotch dreaded the moment. They were meeting INTERPOL agents he knew that had years of experience in them.

Dr. Spencer Reid would be eaten by them in no time. He just hoped they sequestered him quickly.

As it was or wasn't, Hotch wasn't so lucky. It seemed every agent assigned in the INTERPOL wanted to meet with the BAU agents from America. Their reputation preceded them. Of course, having Emily Prentiss as their leader now did not help either.

And of course, the bruises on her face and cut lip didn't escape them at all; they wanted to know who had done it. They wanted to inflict the same damages on whomever. Emily had to soothe them. Hotch was impressed; she had only been in charge for about a year and the whole unit was already loyal and protective of her. Thank goodness Reid was spared.

Emily had to tell them some silly story about warding off a couple of wild dogs and in the process, she ran into some brambles in the woods outside her house.

"Brambles? Huh!" One of her team member scoffed at her skeptically. "Sounds like that crazy story about those termites. I told you…we do not have termites in this country." He shook his head.

Hotch and Reid exchanged baffled looks.

"What do you mean?"

"We do not have termites. Emily told us her apartment was condemned because there was a large colony in the building…what bloody rubbish!" Carter threw his hands up in disbelieve. "I told you she told us a fish story!" He glanced at his colleagues for help.

They nodded, "Oh yeah, certainly! She came back from this secret mission with Mr. Easter…"

"That is enough!" Emily cut him off immediately with a stern look.

Hotch frowned at her.

The men clammed up at once.

"I told you, it was termites…and termites it was. Must be one of those foreign residents that brought those pests into the apartment at one time …that was what the manager said." Emily said firmly, glancing at them with an arched brow.

They nodded with a resigned look. "Whatever you said…boss."

"Well, we have some things to discuss at my office…Hotch, Reid, if you'll follow me." She indicated her office"

The two agents nodded and followed her.

Her secretary was holding fort in the section with a stack of messages and faxes.

"It's about time you arrived, boss! The under Secretary of Foreign Office called twice…twice! Agent Prentiss, he is not in a good mood, and Mr. Easter called as well." He walked quickly after her as she entered her office with Hotch and Reid.

"Mr. Weaver, this is Agent Hotchner and Dr. Reid, the FBI agents from Virginia. Guys, this is my secretary, Mr. Weaver." She introduced them.

The men shook hands.

"How do you do, Agent Hotchner? It is really nice to finally meet you in person; Agent Prentiss speaks a lot about y…Goodness! What the bloody hell happen to your face, Emily? Did you and Sergio have a fight? Or perhaps the feisty Mr. Thelonious? I told you, and I've told you a thousand times, those claws needed to be trimmed. They are the devil if you tell me. The pair of them." He looked at Hotch and Reid and continued, "I volunteered to keep them one weekend and lived to regret it ever since. My dearest wife had not recovered from the ordeal from those two heathens. The furniture! I tell you, Sergio may look sweet as can be but don't let that old devil fool you…black as coal…and Thelonious, don't get me started on that wily youngster…"

"Mr. Weaver!" Emily interrupted him, her face a shade of dark red. "How about some coffee? Now? Please?"

Her secretary bobbed his head several times up and down while grinning as he watched Hotch who was in a shock. "Three cups of coffee, coming right up. Are you sure I can't tempt you in some real English tea? Earl Gray? Oolong? No?"

"Mr. Weaver." Emily said in a warning tone. "Coffee or you'll be doing some training with Collin Walters."

His eyes bulged when she mentioned his name and in a flash he disappeared from her office.

Once he was gone, she grinned, "That worked every time. You've met Collin earlier; big bulging guy with the over sized biceps, three-time heavy weight champ. Mr. Weaver is very intimidated with his size. Collin had threatened him with a hardy work out session. Weaver has been avoiding him like a plague since. Have a seat. We're waiting for one more equipment to get here. So we might as well get a little comfortable here."

Hotch and Reid settled them in her spacious office as they looked about them. "Quite a nice get-up you have here."

Behind her work desk was a credenza filled with picture frames of the BAU team members. That was as personal as she had gotten for office decoration, Hotch thought.

Soon, a much subdued Mr. Weaver came back with a silver tray with coffeepot and three cups and saucers.

"Thank you, Mr. Weaver, I'll serve." Emily stood up and poured coffee for them.

She watched him leave, and added to the two agents, "believe it or not, he's as efficient as any female secretaries. Doesn't gossip…much or have hysterics, happily married. Only flaw is his wife loves to play matchmaker." She sighed as she took a sip.

Hotch grinned, "Take it from me, I'd trade yours anytime. Ms Yardley is worst, she is a confirmed spinster, although don't tell her that, and she loves to gossip, all the other secretaries thinks Jack needs a mother… immediately."

Emily laughed heartily.

Reid frowned and said, "I didn't know you have a secretary, Hotch?"

The two stared at him as if he grew three sets of horns and luckily for him, her phone rang, letting her know that the room was set up for Reid.

The three stood up at the same time. Emily grabbed her briefcase as she led them out of her office and turned to her secretary, "I'll be back in a moment, Mr. Weaver."

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded his head as he watched Hotch and Emily walking together in fascination.

…..

Reaching down to the basement of the INTERPOL building, Emily was directed to the furthest part of the corridor. There she saw a security guard in front of a door; that must be the room where the notebooks were.

As they entered what saw was a small cubicle. A large desk was set up with a chair and electronic equipment on it. Next to it were boxes of packing bubbles. They had carefully packed the black and white nondescript composition notebooks in the bubble wrap to prevent damages.

"What is this?" Reid pointed at the unfamiliar electronic gadget that looked like a laptop but without a keyboard but with a microphone attached to it as well as several flash drives stacked next to it.

"This is a Voice Recognition Short to Long Hand Translator or VRSOLHT or as INTERPOL nicknamed it VSHIT. It interprets short hand. Just talk into the microphone and it will translate into the computer. It is very handy if you couldn't have a secretary with no clearance, as with this case." She explained. "The computer has to recognition your speech pattern first, so turn it on, Reid. Say something so it will recognize your voice. Once it does, it will show you a green light on the bottom right corner. As you translate the notebooks, it will recognize your voice and interpret your words. Save it into the flash drive provided. Once you're done, INTERPOL will do the rest. Any question?"

Reid thought for a moment, then spoke, "bathroom break? Food? Drinks? Am I allowed to stretch out every once in a while?"

Emil nodded. Then she looked behind her where a young woman standing by the wall. "This is Mei-Lin. She is the one who developed the software for V...well, the interpreter. So, if it breaks down for some reason, she can help you, only thing she can help you with is the software, not the interpretation of the notebooks. No one is allowed to see it. If you run into any problem, you need to let me know."

Mei-Lin smile as she nodded at Reid, the door will be locked at all times and I'll be the only with the key. Knock three times and I'll unlock the door for you." She then retreated to her original stance.

Reid nodded his head; he was eager to get it started.

Emily saw his excited eyes and smiled. "Okay, Spencer. Try not to have too much fun with it." She gave him a quick hug as he walked into the room.

Hotch nodded to him, "Good luck Reid, and thanks for volunteering."

Reid just shrugged his shoulders. "I'm glad to help."

Emily closed the door with a soft click and Me-Lin stepping forward to lock the door before nodding to Emily as she assumed her position. Hotch, satisfied with the precautionary procedure nodded at Emily and the two walked away from the now closed off cubicle.

"Don't worry, Hotch," Emily smiled. "He's not completely closed off to the world; he'll be allowed to come out when we break for the day."

Hotch nodded.

As they made their way back up to her office, Hotch turned to her, "About this 'termite story…there seem to be more to it then you're telling me, is it?"

Emily sighed, "It's a long story, Hotch."

"Could it be a code word for Taliban?" He hazarded a guess as he continued to stare at her.

She startled as she returned his look and groaned, "Was it that obvious?"

He shrugged.

"Hotch, it was a classified mission, Clyde and I…"

He held out his hand, "One you almost lost your life!" He said angrily. "So much so, they had to relocate you…"

"Hotch!" She leaned close to him and whispered hurriedly, "Swear to me you'll not tell anyone about it!"

He hesitated for a moment before he nodded reluctantly, "I want to know everything…not one detail missing." He hissed near her ear.

She closed her eyes for a second before nodding, "Deal but I'll tell you all about it tonight." He nodded.

Satisfied, they arrived at her office.

…

End of Chapter 5

A/N: I did not know there are no termites in England! It was pointed out to me by a very nice reviewer! Thanks! That'll teach me for not doing better research! My apologies to my British pals!

P. Muse.