This is probably starting to sound repetitive, but a round of thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. Your support is nothing short of stellar, I assure you.
Okay, I'll admit it. This one was pretty gosh-darned fun to write. In the name of balance - this one's from Hotch's perspective. It takes place sometime between Gideon's departure and Rossi's arrival.
Happy reading (=
"A person who deserves my loyalty receives it." – Joyce Maynard
"All right, what's everybody drinkin'? Next ones are on me," Morgan says, rising to his feet and looking at Prentiss, Garcia and I expectantly. Garcia is quick to rattle off a drink I've never heard of, and I gesture to my almost empty beer indicating my order. Prentiss, however, remains silent, seemingly considering her options.
We'd come to the bar after wrapping up the latest case. One of the other BAU teams had borrowed the jet in a pinch, and it wasn't scheduled to arrive until the morning. Having finished up our paperwork, it had been JJ's suggestion to hit the bar and wash away a bit of the bitter taste left in our mouths after the gruesome case. I usually decline such invitations, but the case had really eaten away at all of us this past week, and a night of alcohol-induced amnesia didn't sound too terrible at all.
"What about you, Princess?" Morgan says with a wink and a charming smile. "Let me guess. Trying to choose between a Manhattan and Sex on the Beach?" he teases.
"While those are perfectly acceptable drinks, I tend to break the female stereotype when it comes to alcohol," she replies, an unimpressed look on her face.
"Says the woman who loooooooooooooves her wine," he replies quickly.
"You're right, I do enjoy a good glass of wine," she concedes. "But it's got nothing on some good whiskey. Three wise men for me, please."
His eyes widen in surprise. "Well that's definitely not what I expected," he admits.
"Oh, hot stuff, I think you'll find that our raven-haired beauty here defies all expectations," Garcia chimes in. "Now go get the drinks before all hell breaks loose!"
"You're gonna let him get them? God, we'll be waiting forever," Prentiss says, almost whining.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks defensively.
"It's a Saturday night, and it's packed, and the bartender hasn't given in to any man's efforts at charming her yet. You really think you're gonna get timely service?"
"She just hasn't met Derek Morgan yet," he says, a touch of arrogance in his tone.
Garcia and Prentiss begin to chuckle at his words.
"What? You don't think I can get her attention?"
"Not a chance," Prentiss says.
"Wanna bet?" Morgan challenges. I hold back a groan. Those two are infuriatingly stubborn, not to mention fiercely competitive. There is absolutely no way this is going to end well.
"I'll give you 10 minutes from when you leave the table. No, you know what? I'm feeling generous – 15 minutes. If you can get the drinks and have them back here within that time, not only is this round on me, I'll buy your drinks the rest of night."
"So confident I'm gonna fail?"
"Yep. And if you do, my drinks are on you the rest of the night. We have a deal?"
"You're on," he says and saunters away from the table toward the bar to procure the drinks.
Prentiss and Garcia start to chat about something animatedly, but I find my thoughts wandering to unrelated things. Mostly I wonder about who Emily Prentiss really is. I've worked with her for months, and yet only bits and pieces about her life have been revealed. Then again, it's likely the rest of the team may have more insight, after all your boss isn't the first person you'd usually share things with. Still, given how tightly knit this group is, I'd expected to know a little more about her by now.
She's fallen into a comfortable rhythm with Morgan, matching him in his witty banter and fierce competitiveness, and going toe to toe with him in his intense workouts. Before his departure, Gideon had seemed relatively indifferent to her, which for him meant she'd mostly earned his respect. If the rapid-fire conversations that crop up on these nights out and in the bullpen are anything to go by, she's settled in nicely with JJ and Garcia. And she's even found some common ground with Reid, now that's he's had some time to deal with everything relating to his abduction. And me? I've realized I judged her far too quickly at the outset.
To be fair, I wasn't wrong in my assumption that Strauss had been involved with her transfer. And I had given her that chance to prove herself, despite my initial reservations. But the fact of the matter is that I had been actively looking for reasons to discount her abilities. Her background was a concern to me until her resignation – well at least her attempt at resignation, since it never really became official. It came as a surprise that she would show such loyalty to the team, given how much she likely would have benefitted from whispering in Strauss' ear, particularly in the political sense. A motivated and intelligent woman, she would have climbed the ranks quickly, especially given her family connections. But she'd shied away from her political background, and had instead tried to forge her own destiny. And in doing so she'd proven her dedication to this team, and given me perhaps the first real look into who she is. She'd earned my trust and loyalty that day, and cemented her place on this team.
"We'll save your seat," I hear Prentiss promise Garcia as the bubbly blonde walks away quickly, interrupting my thoughts.
"Were you really going to take the Foreign Service Exam?" I ask suddenly, the events surrounding her resignation still fresh in my mind. I don't doubt the few beers I've had are contributing to my sudden outburst.
"I'm sorry?" she says in confusion.
"When you resigned before the case in Milwaukee you said you were going to take the Foreign Service Exam, and that you stood a good chance at landing a spot in the State Department."
"Oh, uh...I guess I might've."
"Really?"
She shrugs. "Is that surprising?"
"A little," I admit.
"Why?" she asks, a brief frown appearing on her face.
"You've said on a number of occasions how much you hate politics…"
"Well, yeah. But if I wasn't going to be profiling there was no way I'd stay in the Bureau and go back to riding a desk."
"So you thought you'd ride a desk at the State Department instead?"
"At least it could have been a foreign desk?" she says with a smile. "Honestly, I probably wouldn't have taken it. You're right – I do hate politics, and I want absolutely nothing to do with them. Plus I would never want to give my mother the satisfaction of following in her footsteps as an ambassador."
My eyebrows rise slightly in surprise.
"Oh, don't give me that look, sir. You've met my mother. Do you honestly think I'd willingly hand her more ammo to use against me the rest of my life? She'd have a hand in absolutely everything I did. I'd never be able to make a name for myself."
I nod in understanding. It's true. I would think it's both a curse and a blessing to have such a recognizable name. "What would you have done? If you hadn't been able to come back, I mean."
Her expression turns thoughtful as she considers my question. "You know, I'm not actually sure. Probably would have ended up in some similarly dangerous career."
"Yeah?"
She nods. "What can I say? I have a thing for adrenaline," she deadpans before cracking a small smile. "Although I probably would have missed the luxury of the jet. Something to be said for having leg room."
I regard her skeptically. "You've never flown anywhere economy, have you?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"Oh, poor Morgan's still trying to get her attention," she says, glancing quickly over to the bar and pointedly ignoring my question.
"Why are you so sure he's going to fail?" I ask, letting her direct the conversation elsewhere. It's not like I didn't know her answer already anyway.
She grins. "Oh, I have my reasons."
I shake my head. Somehow I think this is going to be a common topic of ridicule for Morgan in the coming weeks. "How much time does he have left?" I ask when I see him check his watch and then shoot a quick and very worried look over to our table.
She glances down at her own watch. "One minute," she says, completely failing to hide her amusement.
Garcia returns to the table and slides into her seat. "How's he doing?" she asks, unabashedly staring at his now frantic efforts to get the bartender's attention.
"Twenty seconds," Prentiss says, her smile widening.
"Oh, my poor, poor chocolate cupcake," Garcia says with a small shake of her head.
Emily catches Derek's attention and taps her watch before crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow. He sulks back toward the table, his posture giving away his frustration. That's the problem with Derek Morgan – he's a sore loser.
"No luck, eh?" I say, trying to avoid a full blow-out between the two competitive agents.
He shakes his head. "It's unbelievable. I just- I dunno," he mutters, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"Bruised ego there, my heavenly sculpted chocolate god?" Garcia asks sweetly, putting a comforting hand on his arm. He just glowers in response.
"I guess the Derek Morgan charm isn't as powerful as all the rumours suggest," Prentiss says, pouring a bit of salt into his wound.
"Haha, very funny," he says like a petulant child.
"Well, I, for one, am not waiting around all night for my drink. You got a tab open, Morgan?" Prentiss asks, rising to her feet.
He nods reluctantly.
"Good. I'll be back in a few then," she says with a wink.
"Oh, Em?" Garcia says, catching her attention before she leaves.
"Yeah?"
"You might wanna, uhh..." she trails off, gesturing to her blouse.
"Oh, right. Good call, PG," she says, undoing one button on her blouse, pausing for a moment in consideration and then undoing another before heading confidently toward the bar.
We all watch as she leans on the bar and grabs the bartender's attention. They talk for a brief moment and I glance quickly at Morgan, finding his eyes wide as he watches the bartender staring appreciatively at Emily. And not at her face.
"Oh, she knew, didn't she?!" Morgan exclaims, turning to Garcia, who is giggling. "That little-"
"Morgan," I warn, again trying to avoid a complete blow-out. I can't help but tease the man a bit, though. "But to be fair, you are a profiler..." I add with a smirk.
He grumbles something unintelligible and glares at me before letting out a heavy sigh. Prentiss returns, drinks in hand and sets a very girly drink in front of him.
"I didn't know what you wanted, so I got you something I thought you'd enjoy," she says with a smirk.
He stares at the Sex on the Beach that she'd just placed in front of him and then shifts his glare to her.
"You knew," he says accusingly. "That's cheating."
"No, it's taking advantage of your massive ego," she counters. "To a punctured self-image and bruised ego," she says, holding up her glass.
Garcia giggles, I shake my head, and Morgan just continues glaring.
"Why are we toasting a bruised ego?" JJ asks, having just arrived at the table with a decidedly confused expression on her face. Prentiss turns to embrace JJ and begins talking quickly, no doubt bringing the blonde up to speed on the night's events and her victory over a now very sullen Derek Morgan.
"Aw, lighten up, handsome. It could be worse," Garcia says to Morgan, rubbing circles on his back.
"How, Baby Girl? How could this be worse?" he asks incredulously.
Garcia grins mischievously and I have a sinking feeling I'm not going to like the answer she gives him.
"She could have done her blouse up again," she says with a wink. I see Derek's eyes widen and jump over to Prentiss before he painstakingly averts his gaze. Unfortunately for him, Prentiss had seen exactly where he'd been looking and shakes her head as she lets out a slight chuckle. I close my eyes and groan. Just what I needed – a sexual harassment complaint. I grab my beer and take a long drink, hoping to drown my concerns. At least the case is completely out of my mind for now. I'd take administrative hassles over those images any day of the week.
"Like what you see, Morgan?" I hear Prentiss tease.
I groan again and there's a fleeting thought in my mind that it might not be too late to take Strauss up on her offer of a transfer.
Like I said, I had a ton of fun writing this one :). An important realization tucked into a night of fun and amusement.
I love reading reviews, so if you've got the time, I'd be simply tickled to read your thoughts on it.
You'll be happy to hear I've been writing pretty much non-stop the last little while. Lots of conversations to come...