A/N: Hello again, everyone! Sorry if I've been slow lately with this chapter, as well as the previous chapters. Writer's block sucks—I've said this before, and I'm totally not afraid to repeat it. Plus, my life offscreen can be a lot. Again, I'm still taking one day at a time, hoping—and praying—for the better of things as time passes.
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. The story starts off on November 8th.
Previously on Criminal Minds…
"We've been picked. […] Someone wants us to adopt their baby."
"So, Neveah, how far along are you in your pregnancy?"
"I, uh…took her to my OBGYN, and she's eight weeks, so two months."
"So, you're due in late April/early-to-mid May?"
"Yes. Around that time, yeah."
"Well, she's doing an admirable thing despite the…circumstances."
Early Saturday morning, after breakfast and arriving at the Fountain of Wishes adoption agency, Spencer and Élise sat next to each other in the dark brown leather swivel chairs around the large walnut conference table. Sadia sat down next to Élise, and the two conversed about the former's upcoming wedding while Spencer reread Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451.
"Oooh!" Élise was dazzled by the beautiful, ornate, and intricately detailed wedding gown on Sadia's new iPhone. "Is that a Naeem Khan?"
"You betcha," Sadia nodded. "It's from his latest Fall/Winter bridal collection." She swept her phone screen to the next photo: a white knee-length lace dress with an illusion and open back neckline. "Monique Lhuillier from her latest Fall/Winter bridal collection for the reception dinner afterparty."
Élise patted Sadia's palm as the latter set her phone down after powering it down. "You're gonna make a beautiful bride. Edward's a lucky gentleman."
Sadia blushed as Mr. Birger entered the conference room with Dr. Payen strolling in with Neveah. Even though she was in an overdressed, baggy sweater beige-and-black dress, Spencer and Élise could see a little pudge on the young girl's stomach.
Once everyone got settled, Mr. Birger spoke up after organizing his peered papers and manila files. "So, how's everyone?"
"I'm good," said Élise before she lovingly looked to Spencer, who shook his head with confident assurance.
He focused his attention on Neveah and Dr. Payen; the former was quiet, her eyes on the table, and the latter had her fingers intertwined over each other and had something under her palms.
"We're good," said Dr. Payen and slid whatever she had under to Spencer and Élise. They turned over the small rectangular something, and it was a twelve-week sonogram of their potential adoptive child. "Thought you two should see it as well."
"Whoa…"
"I took her to the OBGYN yesterday afternoon, and everything went well."
Spencer agreed with the doctor. "Most definitely." He could go into detail on the baby's developments but decided not to.
"Is everything going okay with you?" Élise asked as Dr. Payen poured a tall glass of water for the young girl and watched her take tiny sips.
"She's been feeling a little dizzy." Dr. Payen answered for her. She slid a pink lollipop next to her on the table and watched her unwrap the plastic wrapper and stick it in her mouth.
"That's your progesterone," Spencer held off for as long as he could. "It causes your blood vessels to relax and widen around this week, increasing your blood flow to the baby but slowing the return of blood to you. It's good for the baby but not you. Sorry." Spencer pressed his lips together and pleated his hands together on his knees.
Neveah responded with a single neutral-style nod.
After about an hour, the meeting ended; Spencer and Élise were driving home.
"How you think it went?" asked Spencer; he was in the driver's seat while Élise was in the passenger seat.
Élise made a pouty look and lifted her shoulders. "I think it went okay."
"I think so, too."
Élise scratched the top of her coiled hair. "Poor girl, so shy."
"If you were where she's in, would you be too?" Spencer asked back, already knowing the situation Neveah was in. "Knowing she's…?" He left the sentence as that.
"True." Élise agreed and got out her cell phone. "You still have enough time to see the Big Hero 6 movie with Séraphine."
Spencer smiled. "Our little girl's reward for being good during her first few months of school. She earned it. Think I should take Ziggy with us?"
Élise slanted her mouth sideways. "I don't think he's ready just yet to sit through an almost two-hour film. Plus, I got my own little mother-and-son date with Ziggy." While at a stoplight, Élise got out her cell phone again and showed pictures of the National Geographic Museum's newest exhibit, Spinosaurus: Lost Giant of the Cretaceous.
Spencer had a quick glance. "That sounds like a fun date for the two of you."
"And speaking of date, Thanksgiving. You want to spend it in Las Vegas or Jersey this year?"
"Jersey." Spencer quickly answered. "During the meeting, I got a text message from my dad. He has a case that's going to trial soon, and he can't leave the city. And my mother caught the stomach flu along with some of the other patients, so we can't risk her getting us the kids sick."
"At least it wasn't anything too kinky…"
Spencer huffed a cough. "Élise!"
Élise shrugged in response. "You'd be surprised what goes on in nursing homes—and kinky stuff happens. For example…"
Spencer grimaced into a frown. "Élise!" He desperately didn't want her to finish that sentence. Not even his eidetic memory could handle it.
Élise couldn't help but laugh and changed the conversation. "But seriously, do you ever think that maybe one of these days, Diana decides she wants to leave Bennington for D.C.? Think about it. We wouldn't have to travel across the country to see her; she'd be closer to us and the children now that they'll be in school."
"It would be nice." Spencer agreed to the idea. "Who knows?"
After church services, the Bastien-Reid family was invited to the Donovan-Putnam household Sunday afternoon for a friendly hangout/playdate.
"Ooh-ooh!" Though Maeve had her green plaid printed oven mitts after pulling out a silver sheet of veggie chips, she was easing on herself not to burn her hand. She gently set them on the countertop and waved over them, hoping they would cool off faster since the children had been outside for half an hour, playing in the color-changing leaves without a care in the world.
Élise strolled into the kitchen and took a look outside, smiling at the sight of the children. "Ah, this reminds me of being a kid back in the day. Where kids actually wanted to be outside and play instead of being indoors all day."
"I know what you mean," Maeve still flapped her hand over the baking sheet. "Now, kids as young as five these days want a cell phone and spend their entire day posting a bunch of pictures and selfies all day on their social media."
"Times are changing, my friends," said Élise as the two women heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. It was Spencer and Bobby, who had just come back from the basement.
"What's making times change?" asked Bobby as he gave Maeve a quick lip peak.
Élise had a purple chip. "Social media."
"Oh, Lord," Bobby groaned amusingly. "The digital area from where we come. From MySpace to Facebook; from Twitter to Instagram."
"And YouTube," Maeve added while putting her gloves away. "Can't forget about YouTube."
"What about flip phones and PDAs?" Spencer often doesn't mind having a flip phone again.
"Oh, I remember my first one," Maeve reminisced on the first phone she ever had; she had another look at the children playing.
Bobby continued. "We barely utilized how to use the internet back in the 1990s and early 2000s; even being on TV was a bit of a stigma, and now it's everywhere. Anyone can get famous via the internet and reality shows; already you become an instant internet celebrity."
"Or be famous for absolutely nothing, coming from a famous family, or being some influencer." Élise rolled her eyes when she said 'influencer.' "Or famous for having your own 'brand.' Like the Real Housewives, America's Next Top Model, and the Kardashians." Élise mentioned, making Maeve and Bobby chuckle a little.
"Who?" Spencer helped himself to a chip, wanting to know who those people Élise just mentioned. "On second thought, I'd rather not. I'm so glad I'm a semi-Luddite who prefers and would pick hardcover books and recyclable paper to tablets and televisions."
"Now we can't stop staring at our screens all day long," Élise remarked before her phone buzzed again and immediately started checking it. Her eyes glanced up at amused looks from Bobby, Maeve, and Spencer.
"I'm the AG of this country." Élise used that as her excuse. "I have a busy life now."
Bobby gave Élise a playful stink-eye while opening the refrigerator, and Maeve got the colorful plastic cups and tall glasses. "So, what are you doing for the International Dinner at WIS?"
The International Dinner at WIS is one of the school's many traditions. In November, WIS families gather in the Tregaron Mansion for an international potluck with dishes representing their culture.
"Saint Lucian cuisine is a combo of British, East Indian, and French, and the country's national dish is saltfish and green bananas, but unfortunately, due to my loving hubby's distaste at the word 'fish,'" Élise waved her hand to Spencer, drinking a glass of water offered to him by Bobby. "I've decided on callaloo soup."
"I'm mostly German with Danish, Irish, and English descent, so I'm making Sauerbraten."
Bobby had his hand up, pouring apple cider for the children. "My mom's Korean Bulgogi recipe."
"Chicken tikka masala."
Bobby lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah, it's that an Indian dish?"
"Actually, it's been said chicken tikka masala was invented in Glasgow, Scottish, and it's exceptionally popular in the UK. And you already know I love Indian food, so it's a bonus for me. Or maybe some shortbread cookies."
"Surprise us…" Élise replied as Maeve called the children instead for some snacks.
Typical Monday at BAU headquarters…
"Hey, check this furry little guy!" Garcia and Kate shared a mutual love for adorable animal pictures. The former showed the latter a lone baby polar bear in the frigid winter weather on her cell phone. "Awww, isn't he so cute!"
"Ah, if only I could adopt him and keep him under hibernation all year around." Kate giggled.
Rossi came in; a semi-indifferent frown stiffened his face. "What's with the face?"
"That's his usual face." JJ joked while playing with her pen about how his I-don't-care face is his usual face. "But seriously, what's up with you?"
Rossi explained after a groan. "Just came back from a meeting with my publishers about potentially a new book.
"And…?" Kate wanted to know what was so bad about that if his publishers wanted him to make another book.
Rossi added. "And they said I should be a little bit more like these influencers that keep popping up in the media."
The women giggled, but Spencer immediately took an interest in the conversation and injected himself into it. "Actually, Élise and I had a talk about this and took the liberty of doing some research on it."
"Oh, ma'don…"
"Influencers go back to ancient Rome when gladiators endorsed products. Josiah Wedgwood, in 1760, made a tea set for King George III's wife. Coco Chanel…"
"Hoo-rah for all that…" Rossi waved his hand, politely stopping the genius. "But then they went on and on about marketing and my "personal brand," whatever that is…" Now, he almost regretted going back to his publishers for a new book idea.
"It's your identity on how you want the public to see you, and obviously, you want to be on their good side and never the bad side since the public opinion can be harsh," Garcia answered while she dabbled on her tablet. "It could be a good thing. You could be your own PR person and can make a boatload of more moola than ever before, Italian man."
"How much moola?"
"Like all of our GS paygrades combined but doubled, tripled, quadrupled, depends on who you're talking to. Endorsements, vlogging, sponsors, advertisements."
Rossi pressed his mouth down; he seemed captivated by the idea. "Mmm…perhaps I've been in the wrong line of work."
"But I missed the days when our lives weren't always on the internet for everyone to see." Kate rummaged through her drawers, trying to look for something. "And all these selfies lately; at least I have Meg trying to keep them to a minimum."
Garica pulled a face. "And speaking of social media and selfies…"
"Case?"
"Oui-oui."
"Hey, little man…" Rose got Isaac's attention while she placed a stack of every Dr. Seuss book on the coffee table for him. "How about we do a little reading, and then maybe you can watch a little TV while I start lunch?"
"Bleuuuu…" Isaac blew raspberries, pretending he was flying his toy airplane in the sky. "K-K!"
Opal barked once; Rose took it as a yes. Taking the black remote controller from one of the two armchairs, she was about to turn off the television when a blue banner between the two red lines on Channel 6 caught her notice. The captain read "Selfie Killer" Strikes DC Area and Cythina Wilson in black lettering. A supposing middle-aged woman with parted dark, soft, wavyish hair in a black suit in front of a taped-off suburban DC home.
She turned up the volume a little bit. "…The man many are calling the selfie killer has left many in this quiet neighborhood demanding answers…"
"Oh, Lord…" The Selfie Killer? Really? The media must really be enjoying this, Rose thought in her head. One thing about being retired Rose liked was that she didn't have to deal with the media salivating under their constant eye.
Soon, a siren black Suburban appeared at the scene. "It looks like federal agents are arriving on the scene now," said Cynthia. "We'll see if we can get a statement."
Arriving at the scene was Morgan on the front driver's side and Spencer on the passenger's side, approaching towards the murder teen's house.
"Agents, can you tell us what happened here?" asked Cynthia.
Morgan and Spencer replied simultaneously and ducked under the yellow caution crime scene tape. "No comment."
"Will the selfie killer strike again?"
"Hey, there's daddy…!" Isaac raised his right arm and pointed his fine finger at the screen.
Opal barked twice.
Élise finished releasing a statement about the FBI's 2013 Crime Statistics Report and then watched continuing breaking news footage about the Selfie Killer while being escorted to another meeting.
"I'm so never letting Fee and Zig have any form of social media…" Élise said to herself. "At least until they're eighteen."
Nighttime has descended among D.C. The sky was clear without a gray cloud, and the temperature was in the mid-high 50 degrees. Élise sat on the white chaise in the sunroom, sipping some tea, and a lavender-scented candle warmed the area.
"Ready for bed?" Spencer fastened the top button of his sweater.
Élise huffed the candle out and finished up the last of her tea. "Yup," she let Spencer take her hand and guide her to the bed. "You know what today has made me realize?"
"What?"
"We are never letting the children have any kind of social media."
The team received word of another victim known for a social media presence, and after seeing a hashtag used by a nail gun left behind and a local folklore relating to the crimes, a profile was delivered.
Élise delivered a statement regarding the passing of a Civil Rights Leader.
"Empathy." Ms. Torres scribbled the word on the whiteboard. "It is to understand and share one's feelings."
Ms. Ortiz stepped in. "So, for example, ask me how Ms. Torres and I are feeling?"
"How are you feeling?" all the preschoolers asked.
"We are feeling perfectly fine today," said Ms. Ortiz. "And you?"
"We're good."
Now, another victim was found dead in his home, and the team came to the realization that the Mirror Man unsub could possibly be a teenager after their "mall theory" and a taunt to the unsub.
Élise completed a media availability following meeting with European Union officials about foreign terrorist fighters and other areas of mutual concern when she got word of what happened with the BAU.
"Oh, no." Élise clicked on the news app on her phone, and there was a video of Morgan shooting the unsub who had a hostage on national television.
Despite both the unsub and his hostage losing lots of blood and having some nerve damage on the unsub's part, they were both saved in time.
"Spence, it's almost time!" Élise knocked on the bathroom door after clasping her gold earrings to her lobes. She stunned in a Kevan Hall gown from his latest Fall/Winter collection: navy blue that had a lace overlay, an A-line skirt, a long-sleeved lace illusion sweetheart neckline, and gold pumps. Her hair hung smooth and straight, and her makeup was naturally minimal; it looked as if she didn't have any makeup.
Spencer came out of the bathroom, looking good in the tuxedo he had recently tailored and his hair neatly tussled.
"I'd love seeing you in a tux," Élise immediately became turned on and naughtily smiled. She had her hands on his lapels. "It's like seeing you in shorts."
Spencer laughed lightly. "You look nice yourself. I'm so glad the case is over. The lengths people will go for fame…"
"And now, with social media, it's easier," Élise scooped her gold clutch off the bed.
"Never are we letting Fee or Zig have any form of social media," Spencer vowed.
Élise held her fist out for a bump. "Amen to that."
Spencer and Élise arrived at the JW Marriott hotel in D.C. for the 18th annual Frederick Douglass Awards Dinner, honoring the champions for the underserved rights; the latter gave a speech.