Okay. Let's hope this isn't a load of bullshit, because ain't nobody got time fo' that. Read, review, favorite and all that good shit, okay? Yes. Thank you, and do like my url says and have a great day! X
Even though I wasn't on the rota to work weekends, I knew that it was a consequence of working in this industry, therefore I knew it would only be a matter of time before Stephenson called for me to come into the office. As quickly as I was able to, I packed up all of the newly acquired information and I dressed myself for comfort rather than style today - a pair of slim fit denim jeans, a pair of clean, fur-lined boots and a button up white shirt, tucked into the jeans. I threw on a thick, knitted grey sweater over the shirt, and then an even thicker deep green cardigan over everything else.
I released my hair from the plait I had left it in, and I ran a thickly bristled brush through it, letting the curls and waves fall prettily over one of my shoulders. I left my glasses on, as I was really sick of wearing contacts to work. They irritated my eyes, and always made me tear up when I put them in in the mornings. I picked up the handbag with all of my belongings inside it, and instead of catching the train, I walked out of my apartment, caught the nearest elevator and continued down the complex out onto the sidewalk.
I hailed down a cab, and I slid in, sitting in the back, and said, "Cabrini Boulevard, please."
The cab ride was particularly short, and quiet, thank God, and I spent most of the time running through the names on the list one last time, having written down short notes on the findings I had uncovered earlier that day, and I couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction. If I give this information to whomsoever needed it, probably Garcia as out technical analysts were utter shit. I mean, I could do better, and that's not even an exaggeration. I had been conditioned to work in each facet of the bureau, and I could do it very well, as a matter of fact.
We have this son of a bitch, I know we did. We just needed a bit of time, we could do it. I had a heavy feeling in my gut that he was somewhere in this pile of 16 faces. I was almost excited to see Stephenson's reaction, however I knew that that wasn't the only reason why I was feeling somewhat elated. I kind of wanted to see what the BAU thought of my work. Would they be impressed? Would they have already figured it out by now? Who am I kidding? It's the FBI, of course they've probably gotten better, more substantial leads - it was sort of pathetic even thinking that they'd be impressed with anything I bring to the table.
The cab pulled up to the sidewalk, and I handed him a 20 dollar bill, receiving 6 dollars 49 cents in return, and I smiled, wishing the cabbie a good day. I walked into the foyer, only to bump into Hotchner. A very flustered, troubled Hotchner.
I mumbled out, "Oh, hey, Sir, is there something the matter?"
He rubbed a heavy hand across his face, and he replied, "No.. This case is just frustrating, that's all. It's a Saturday, why are you clocking in?"
I chuckled a little, and I said, "I had a breakthrough at home on the case, and I wanted to let you guys know about it."
His eyes widened fractionally, and I found myself being ushered into the elevator at lightening speed with a Hotchner's hand laid heavily on the small of my back, leading me. He pulled out a cell phone, and made a call, of which was answered on the second ring, and he ordered, "We're having a meeting, 2 minutes, everyone in the boardroom, now. We've got a new lead."
That was it. That was all he said, and whoever was on the receiving end of that phone call listened intently. It was amazing the amount of power than he held in his hands, and I couldn't help but look at him in a different light. A more appreciative and superior light. He was a pretty amazing leader, I have to say. He treated his team with respect, however he maintained that level of authority in every word he spoke. He never asked for more than he believed his team could provide, and I honestly respected him more than I did Stephenson, of whom I had been working under for over a year.
It didn't take long before Hotchner had shuffled me into that same glass room, and I was being studied by 6 separate pair of eyes, one of which was looking at me through a computer screen. That must have been Penelope Garcia, the techie from heaven. There was Agents Jareau, Prentiss, Rossi, Morgan and Reid all either sitting or standing scattered around the room, however they were all facing the door - I.E the place were Hotchner and I were entering.
Morgan was the first to speak, and he asked, "Okay Hotch, what's this new lead you've got?"
Hotchner then proceeded to tap me twice on my shoulder, and lightly push me towards the group, indicating that I should start talking.
"O-Okay, well.. Erm, wow. While I was at home, I had a bit of a eureka moment. The original 697 names that Garcia found had eventually been whittled down to 147. That really helped me try and figure out where to begin, so I gotta thank you for that, Ma'am. The unsub we're looking for had no children, right? There was no special or significant markings or care taken to the children who were murdered, they just were shot, and he moved on to the women. Now the mother is where it got interesting. The last murder, the mother was raped, then mutilated and then she was killed. That's a whole lot of anger to hold for someone you've never met before, right? So I-I got to thinkin'. Which of the 147 people had broken up with their girlfriend or wife in the last, oh let's say, month and a half - which was where the murders first began. I separated the list into 3 groups; 25s to 30s, 30s to 35s and then the anomalous results. I went over it by hand with a fine toothed comb almost 10 times and, eventually I worked the list down to 16 names. I am so sure, so sure, that the person we're looking for is in here. I swear to God, if you work with this, you'll get him. I know I'm right."
I had almost wore a hole in my wrists because of the amount of times I had rubbed them during the speech, and I couldn't make eye contact with any of the members in the room for too long. I was a little anxious, and I was shaking from foot to foot, a nervous habit that I needed to work myself out of. The quiet of the room made my skin crawl, and a blush rose up my cheeks. Had I made a mistake in coming here? The feelings of self-assured confidence I had felt on my way here soon dissolved into nothing but butterflies deep in my stomach, and a burning urge to just run away and hide.
I look a half step backward, only to feel Hotchner's heavy hand lay on my shoulder once more before I was able to leave, and as I glanced up, he had a small smirk on his face, and he was looking down at me with - was that pride? Shakily, I smiled back, and unsteadily looked around the room, and the air inside me deflated. They were looking at me as if I were a shining beacon of awesome. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but still. It stands. I was an awesome symbol of light, and everyone could kiss my ass.
Prentiss spoke up then, and she said, "So, how do you propose we go about finding our guy?"