Chapter 23 – Everything Changes

Episode – Penelope

FBI Offices

Dave and Hotch walk quickly down the hallway flanking the technical analyst JJ had arranged for them to use. Dave had been in the guys' presence for two minutes and he was already annoyed. Shirt half-tucked, a non-matching tie and unkempt hair – how did this guy get into the bureau, he wondered.

"Now, you're sure another tech is ok with me in her system," the analyst asks. "We're kind of weird about that."

"We just need you to run some bar association records," Hotch tells him as he removes his access badge from his lapel.

"Why doesn't she do it," the analyst asks.

"She's in the hospital," Dave replies.

The guy looks at him wide-eyed. "You're talking about the analyst who was shot."

"That's right," Hotch says as he unlocks the door to Penelope's office.

The analyst follows Hotch through the door. "You know who hit her?"

"That's what we're hoping to find out," Dave says as he closes the door. He watches as the guy stands in the middle of the room and looks around nervously.

"What," Hotch demands.

"We're the gatekeepers to a whole lot of information, man. It's enough to make us all a little paranoid," the guy explains. He squirms under their watchful eyes. After a moment, he removes his bag and sits in the chair at Penelope's desk. "You know I could have done this at my computer."

Dave feels his gut clench as he watches this intruder make himself at home at Penelope's desk.

Hotch steps up behind the man and folds his arms over his chest. "First we need you to look up the name James Colby Baylor and see if it shows up anywhere in the system."

Dave watches closely as the guy starts typing on the keyboard. He sees the surprise come over the guys' face.

"Whoa," the tech states.

"What is it," Dave questions.

"This system is insane," the man announces. "It's completely linux based. Open source programming. You don't see this in government systems, I mean outside of, like, Switzerland."

The man looks back at Hotch.

"James, Colby, Baylor," Hotch enunciates evenly.

"Right. I get it. Chop, chop," the man states. He turns back to the computer and types quickly. "Jeez. Uh-uh. Nothing."

Dave sighs in frustration.

Hotch speaks up. "All right, let's start with a list of everyone in the area who either failed the bar exam or was fired from a large law firm in the last five years."

"What, are you serious," the man asks in surprise. "That's got to be, like, thousands of names."

"Try narrowing it down to anyone with the initials j, c, b." Dave offers. He looks at Hotch. "He had monogrammed shirts. Trust me, they ain't cheap."

The tech starts typing. Dave watches as the man's face turns from questioning to pleasure. Garcia would have had an answer by now.

"Is there a problem," Hotch asks in concern.

"This might be the coolest girl I've ever met," the man replies.

Dave feels a possessiveness filter over him, "You've never laid eyes on her," he says accusingly.

"Well her GUI is mind blowing," the man says dreamily.

"The list," Hotch reminds him.

The man types a few things on the keyboard, then stops and stares at the screen.

"Oh, that's weird," the man murmurs. The computer begins beeping. "Well, this isn't good."

Dave looks at Hotch and sees the younger agent looking distressed. "What's happening?"

"It's asking for a password," the tech explains.

Hotch looks up at Dave then back to the analyst. "Leave it like that," Hotch orders. "You can go now."

The technical analyst grabs his bag and slides out of the chair, he heads towards the door.

"Keep your phone on and stay close," Hotch tells him. "We'll be calling you in again."

"Yes, sir," the man nods as he opens the door and exits.

Dave waits for the door to close. "What the hell is going on?"

Hotch shakes his head. "I don't know. But I do know that there shouldn't be a password on this system."

Dave frowns. "Maybe that guy tripped something he wasn't supposed to," he suggests.

Hotch shrugs and sighs. "I don't know. But I do need to talk to Strauss about it."

"Ugh," Dave groans. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks," Hotch half-smiles. They exit the room and stride down the hall.

Dave heads to the entrance of the BAU as Hotch gets on an elevator. JJ, standing at the glass doors, nods towards Hotch. "What's Hotch doing?"

Dave looks over his shoulder as the elevator doors close. "Right now, I'm guessing he's wishing anybody else was the leader of this team."

He opens the glass door; JJ enters first and he follows close behind.

An hour later

Dave steps out of his office. He glances around looking for his teammates. The bullpen desks are empty. Out of the corner of his eye he sees movement in the briefing room. He heads that way, slowing as an older man he doesn't recognize comes out of the room carrying a box. He is closely followed by the technical analyst from earlier.

Dave frowns at the two men as they walk past. The older man doesn't look his way, eyes forward, lips tight – he's a man on a mission. The technical agent catches his eye, but the meek mouse of a man immediately drops his gaze to the floor and tries to hide inside himself as he sees that Dave is watching him. Dave stops and watches them march out the door.

He shakes his head and continues his trek to the briefing room. He steps through the door, noting that JJ and Emily are there and they look upset. It's then that he sees the reason why, the evidence board is clean.

"What the fuck happened here," he growls.

The women turn to look at him.

"Internal Affairs," Emily says shortly.

Dave looks at the recently vacated BAU entrance doors, he points his finger that direction. "Is that who that was?"

JJ nods. "Agent Fuchs, with I.A. they're investigating Garcia."

"Like hell they are," Dave retorts. He leaves the room like a shot, practically running through the bullpen and out into the hallway. He bypasses the elevator and heads directly for the stairs. He runs down to the third floor and bursts out of the stairwell and spots the two men as they enter a room down the hall.

Internal Affairs

The door is open as he walks through. Dave ignores the secretary sitting at the desk. He opens the inner door and steps into the office. The two men startle and look at him.

"Can I help you," Fuchs asks.

"You can give me my stuff back," Dave growls. He points to the box on the table.

The secretary comes in behind Dave. "I'm sorry, Sir. He just ran in."

"It's okay. Call Chief Strauss and ask her to come down here," Fuchs instructs her.

"Call whomever you want but I'm not leaving without that box."

"This is no longer your concern Agent…"

Dave reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his badge as he slowly creeps closer to the two men. He holds it open so they can see it well. "It's Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi," he growls.

The technical analyst slips into a chair on the backside of the table, trying to remain inconspicuous. Fuchs looks nervous but stands his ground.

"I don't care who you are," Fuchs shoots back. "This is an I.A. investigation now. Myself and technical analyst Lynch will handle this case now. The local police will oversee the attempted homicide case and you and the BAU are no longer involved. You don't need the stuff in the box."

"You don't know what I need," Dave snaps back. He slides his identification back into his pocket and stops mere inches from the other man. "Now you're going to give me that box or I'm going to make you regret it."

"Agent Rossi!"

Dave slowly turns to see Chief Strauss fuming at the doorway. "What are you doing?"

"My job," he spits out. He turns back to Fuchs. "At least I would be if this jagoff wasn't in my way."

"That's enough," she hisses. "Agent Fuchs is doing his job. You need to leave him alone."

"His job? Tampering with evidence?"

"It's my evidence now," Fuchs states lowly. "Penelope Garcia is now a suspect."

Dave growls causing the other man to take a step back. "A suspect in what?"

The other man's guard slips, he adjusts his glasses and swallows hard. "That is yet to be determined."

"I swear to God," Dave says as he takes a step forward. "If you try to fabricate something and put the blame on her, I will annihilate you."

"Are you threatening me," Fuchs blinks.

"I don't make threats. I make promises." Dave feels a tug on his sleeve. He looks down and sees that Strauss has wedged herself between him and Fuchs. "He is not," she says. "He's leaving now."

She leans backwards into Dave and forces him to take a step. Quickly she pivots and uses her momentum to push him across the room and out the door. He allows her to lead him to the elevator. He doesn't look at her as they wait for the car to arrive.

They step into the empty car.

"Jesus Christ, David," she curses as the doors close. "I didn't think you were that stupid. What in the hell were you thinking? If he decides to, he can make your life hell. Is that what you want?"

Dave snorts. "Do you know how many times I got in trouble with internal affairs? I'm not afraid of those asshats."

She shakes her head. "I keep telling you, things have changed."

"Rules change, the seasons change but an asshat is still an asshat."

She rolls her eyes as the elevator comes to a stop. "Come to my office," she orders as she steps out of the car and heads to the right.

BAU Bullpen

"I've got better things to do," he yells back at Erin.

She spins around. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he replies. He heads for the doors of the BAU.

"Come back here!"

He ignores her and storms into the BAU bullpen, with a furious Erin Strauss on his heels.

"Don't you walk away from me, Mister," she growls.

Dave spins around to face her. Emily looks up from her desk, JJ and Hotch emerge from his office.

"Or what, Erin?"

"Chief. Strauss," she stresses. "I am your supervisor, and you will address me as such."

"Oh, cut the pissing match, Erin. You will never have bigger balls than me," he retaliates. "You know as well as I do that this "investigation" into Penelope Garcia is a complete waste of time. The Bureau's trying to find a goat. Any goat. You want a goat? Take me! This is bullshit!"

"Are you done?"

"For the moment," he articulates each word separately.

She glares at him. He glares right back. She lets her eyes wander over the bullpen, making note of every face, every emotion. Her shoulders sag as her spine loosens.

In a gentler tone, she speaks. "Listen, I know how close you are – all of you, to Penelope Garcia. And I understand your frustration, I really do. Penelope is an integral and respected member of this team. I want her back as much as you all do."

She lets her words sink in before she turns back to Dave. "However," she stresses. "We cannot go out and threaten internal affairs, David. There are protocols in place for a reason and we all must follow them. No matter how stupid we think they are. Do you understand?"

Dave glares at her for a few more seconds before lowering his eyes. He glances at his teammates, noting the approval in their eyes. He hadn't done this for them, in fact, he had completely forgotten they existed.

But now, he realized he had thrust himself into the heart of this situation and they respected him for it. Whatever happened between himself and Penelope now, wouldn't interfere with his ability to work with this team. His team. He had done the one thing Jason never would – he fought for them.

He turns back to Strauss. "I understand."

Instead of waiting for a reply, he pivots away and strides to his office passing Hotch and JJ at the top of the stairs. A quick glance back, shows Erin watching him and everyone else watching her as if they were an impenetrable wall between he and her. He steps into his office and closes the door.

Dave's Office - later that day

"You are so not good at this, are you," Hotch states as he walks into Dave's office unannounced. He closes the door firmly, flops into one of the chairs and wipes his face.

"Not good at what exactly," Dave asks after a few seconds.

Hotch nails him with one of his patented glares. "Staying out of trouble."

Dave tisks and tosses his pen onto his desk. "I'm always in trouble. What now?"

"I just spent an hour getting reamed by Strauss over my inability to control my team."

Dave bites his lip. "I'm sorry about that. When I saw the evidence board, I just…"

"Lost your freaking mind," Hotch accuses.

"It's bullshit, Aaron."

Hotch holds his hands up in surrender. "I agree. However, there are better ways to go about this."

"Such as?"

Hotch hesitates. "I'm still trying to come up with something."

Dave huffs. He gets out of his chair and stomps to the window. "There's got to be something we can do."

"Right now, we have to be patient," Hotch tells him. "Or as patient as you can manage."

"That's not much," Dave grunts.

Hotch smirks. "I know."

"Speaking of patients, how did Garcia take it?"

Hotch groans and sits back in the chair. "As well as I expected, which was not well at all. Reid managed to talk the doctor into releasing her."

"Is that a good idea," Dave questions. "At least at the hospital there's a few barriers for this guy to get through, who's going to protect her at home."

"I've arranged for a DC officer to sit outside her building," Hotch replies warily. He eyes Dave for a moment. "And Morgan is going to stay with her."

Dave frowns. "Stay with her? Like, in her apartment? You know it's a one-bedroom apartment, right?"

"I did not know that," Hotch states. "I'm sure it will be fine. They are close friends."

"Close friends," Dave growls.

"If you had behaved yourself, maybe she would have asked you to come stay with her," Hotch points out.

"Oh sure, blame me for my incompetence."

Hotch grins. "At least you know that you're incompetent."

Later that night

Dave dozes on his couch. He thought about going to the hotel, however, he wanted to be closer to Garcia in case anything happened. He also thought about sleeping in his car outside her apartment, but the cop on duty didn't know him and it really wouldn't look good on the Bureau if he did.

"Dave," Hotch says firmly, waking Dave up. "We gotta go!"

He sits up and stretches. "What's going on," he asks.

"He tried to go after Penelope."

Dave jumps to his feet. "Is she alright?"

"Yeah," Hotch nods. "However, the on-duty cop was killed."

"Fuck," Dave swears and shakes his head. He follows Hotch into the bullpen where Emily stands waiting. "The local cops aren't going to like that."

"No, they aren't," Hotch agrees.

"What are you doing here?" Dave asks Emily.

"Same thing as you," she replies. "Staying close by in case something happens."

She falls in line behind the two men.

"Where's JJ and Reid," Dave asks.

"They both went home. Morgan called JJ, because Penelope was freaking out, and she called me," Hotch explains as they get onto the elevator. "JJ said she would call Reid too."

"They'll probably be there before us," Emily muses.

"Most likely," Hotch nods.

Penelope's Apartment

Hotch parks the SUV in the middle of the street, he, Dave, and Emily exit the vehicle.

Detective Walker approaches them in the street. "Just so you know, your office called to tell me we're supposed to run point on this. They don't want you working the case."

"We're just here to comfort a friend," Hotch assures him.

Walker glances to the side. "I'm about to have to tell a good friend's wife her husband got murdered. I don't care what your office says, any help you can give is good in my book."

"Thanks," Hotch says quietly. Dave catches his eye.

"I'm sick of being behind this guy," Dave says aggressively. "We gotta end this."

He looks at each of them, swivels, and marches to the entrance of the building. He can feel Emily right behind him. Dave steps over the blood stained on the front step and passes into the foyer and up the stairs.

He slows as he reaches Penelope's floor. Emily brushes past him. He hesitates, then feels a hand on his shoulder. Hotch squeezes gently, encouraging him to move.

The last time he had been in her apartment was the night his Father went to the hospital, the night he and Penelope had made love. He steps over the threshold, takes another step as the memories wash over him. His eyes land on her, sitting in the chair near the window.

Their eyes meet momentarily, before she looks away. She looked better than she had when she was in the hospital, not much, but better.

Hotch strides past him, blowing into the room. "Garcia, we need to get you back to the hospital," Hotch announces.

Silently, Dave agrees. 'Or she can stay at the hotel with me,' he thinks.

"No," she protests.

"You know what," JJ says, diverting her attention. "You should still be there. We need her someplace safe."

"I feel safe with all of you," Garcia says shortly, cutting off as her eyes land on Dave. Her eyes linger on him before moving to each member of the team and back to him.

He feels a warmth invade his chest, knowing she still trusts him. Maybe… her words at the hospital really were just the ramblings from a drug-induced state.

"We can take you to the BAU," Hotch suggests. The others nod.

JJ stands, Garcia turns to look at her and freezes.

"Garcia," JJ questions.

Penelope doesn't respond.

"Is everything okay," Reid asks he leans forward from him his position on the chair.

Garcia begins to speak. "When we were at dinner, they wanted to seat us by a window, but he insisted on sitting at the worst table in the place. And he sat with his back to the corner."

Dave feels a tickle in the back of his brain.

The team processes this information as Walker and another detective enter the room.

Hotch steps back speaks to them. "Detective. Can you clear the room for just a minute?"

"I got a dead cop downstairs. I'm considering this part of the crime scene," Walker responds testily.

Dave glances at JJ, but his eyes are drawn back to Penelope. She's drawn to him as well, but again looks away quickly when their eyes meet.

"I know," Hotch replies softly. "Just a couple of minutes."

Walker glances at the team then back at Hotch. "Do what you gotta do."

"Thank you," Hotch nods as the two men turn and leave the apartment. He stands next to Dave. Morgan sits next to Garcia. JJ has perched on the couch again as Emily stands behind her and Reid sits in front of Dave.

"Tell us about the car," Reid prompts.

Garcia frowns. "Why?"

"Just go with him," Morgan tells her tenderly. Dave feels himself bristle at the tone of Morgan's voice. He glances at the bed in the other room, wondering if the younger agent slept there next to Penelope. He forces himself to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"You said it was white, four door, American, what else," Reid continues.

The tickle gets stronger, Dave ignores it.

"That's it," she says anxiously. "It was just a car."

"No," Morgan cuts in. "Come on, think. Anything. Go back."

She stares at the wall, thinking about that night. A frown mars her face as something pops into her mind. "The seat belt was buckled behind his back."

The whole team reacts, with gasps and looks. The tickle in his brain starts beating a drum, begging for his attention.

"Why does that matter," she asks, not understanding their reactions.

"It wasn't a rental," Morgan answers. She looks at him. "It was for surveillance."

Dave feels the anger build inside of him again. He acknowledges the tickle in his brain, this guy could be an FBI agent. It hurt enough knowing that someone was trying to kill Penelope, but now, knowing it could be an FBI agent, this burned. He would tear down the whole J. Edgar Hoover building with his bare hands if he had to. His eyes land on Emily, who is watching him.

She steps closer to Dave and Hotch as she speaks to Penelope. He can tell she is trying to calm him down by getting closer to him. As if her presence could pull the anger out of him.

"Agents don't wear seatbelts," she explains. "They need to get out in a hurry."

Dave shakes his head. Internally, he is fuming and the way the team was beating around the bush, treating Penelope with kid gloves was driving him crazy. Yes, she was in a delicate state having been shot. The hand-holding method wasn't working and his patience was at an end, they needed answers and they needed them now.

"All right, let's cut the crap. You need to be straight with us. Right now," Dave growls. He steps over to Penelope and perches on the table in front of her. They are less than a foot from one another. She looks around at the others. "Look at me, not them."

"I'm not hiding anything," she tells him. He can feel the undercurrent of, unlike you, in her words.

"You got shot," he reminds her. "Most people get shot for a reason."

She turns her head to look at Morgan.

"Eyes here," Dave commands. She looks back at him and starts to tremble. The last thing he wants is to scare her, but it may be the only way to get what they need.

"Ease up, Rossi," Morgan interjects.

Dave holds up a hand at the younger agent in hopes of stopping him from speaking further. His eyes stay on Penelope. All the hurt, all the anger and the frustration was coming to a head and he wasn't about to stop until he got the answer he was looking for.

He continues, his voice on the verge of growling. "You've got a room full of people willing to believe that an FBI agent has tried to kill you. We need to know everything you do on company time that we don't know about."

He waits. A flicker of something crosses her face.

"What," he demands.

"Come on, man," Morgan tries again.

Dave notes that no one else in the room has spoken up to stop him. He presses on. "Spit it out," he barks.

She breaks, "It's nothing bad. It's just – I counsel victims' families and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them."

"What does that mean," Dave asks, his voice less aggressive.

She speaks directly to him. "It just means that the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them, so whoever's investigating them knows the FBI considers them a priority."

Dave sits back and lowers his eyes. He can stop being the asshole now and pray that she understands why he did it and forgives him.

"You're not authorized to do that," Hotch chastises her. Dave rises from the table and goes back to his spot next to Hotch. He locks eyes with Emily. She nods and he realizes she understands his actions.

"I know," Penelope responds. "I was just trying to help."

"But whoever's working those cases thinks you're watching them," Emily tells her.

Dave's eyes linger on Penelope as the anger simmers under the surface. An FBI agent, he thinks. A fucking FBI agent.

This is not good. Not good, he tells himself. Fuck! What if he caused this? He asked her to look into the Galen case. What if that was what triggered all of this? No, no, no!

She almost died. And a young DC cop did die tonight. This is his fault. Fuck!

His focus comes back to the room as Penelope speaks again.

"I just wanted to put pressure on them so that they don't slide," she explains, her voice rising anxiously.

Hotch paces across the room in front of Dave. "How many cases are we talking about?"

"I don't know," she replies. "Seven, eight maybe. I need to get into my system."

Hotch stops and looks at her. "You can't, you're suspended."

Morgan cuts in. "Wait a minute. Garcia, on your date, you said the guy was pressing you to find out if you were working murder cases. Hotch, we gotta look at those files."

Hotch turns to Dave. Dave dares not to move at this moment. He's fighting hard to maintain control. His eyes meet Hotch's.

"I told you, I'm sick of this jagoff being in front of us," he bites out.

Hotch sighs. "Dave's right. We'll go back to the BAU. Morgan, Reid, Prentiss, you stay here and make sure no one forgets to log out of the system. Garcia should not have access."

JJ rises from her place on the couch as Dave heads out the door. He's in a hurry to get out of that apartment as quickly as he can. JJ and Hotch follow him down the stairs and outside to the SUV.

Back at the BAU

Dave sits behind his desk and stares out into the bullpen through his window watching the people move about. With a dead cop, and an FBI employee under attack, it was all-hands on deck. Everyone who had the day off was now hard at work. His gaze lands on Agent Fuchs, who is talking to a man in the bullpen. He frowns.

Dave wonders how things are going at Penelope's place. 'Hopefully, they will discover something that helps the case,' he muses to himself. His frown increases as Hotch crosses the window, stops, and knocks on the door.

'Something's up,' he thinks. Hotch would normally knock and enter. He rises quickly and opens the door.

"What's up," Dave asks.

"See the deputy sheriff down there?"

Dave glances at the man in question then back at Hotch. "Yeah?"

"That's our guy."

Dave straightens and steps out the door. Blood races through his veins. He forces himself to remain calm.

"Morgan says he's a classic narcissist with a hero homicide complex."

Dave closes his office door gently. "He's trying to prove to himself he's smarter than all of us."

The two men step closer to the railing and casually observe the bullpen, not lingering on any one person. Dave notes that Lynch, the technical analyst that had invaded Penelope's office, was now sitting at one of the desks using a computer in the bullpen. His dislike for the man increases.

"It's too crowded in here," Hotch points out. "We can't get an angle on him."

The two men stroll to the stairs and slowly walk down into the bullpen. They stop at the first desk. Hotch picks up a file, flips through it and hands it to Dave. Both men keep an eye on the deputy.

Dave places the file back on the desk and moves through the bullpen towards the breakroom to get a better position on the deputy.

"Okey-dokey," Lynch says after a moment.

The deputy leans closer to him. "You're sure my files are wiped off the system?"

Lynch bobs his head and swallows hard. "Yes, sir."

"All right," Agent Fuchs cuts in. "I'll keep you updated on our investigation."

Dave watches as the deputy hesitates. He mentally checks himself; the guy was about to break.

Fuchs heads for the exit. The deputy takes two steps, wraps his arm around Fuch's neck, pulls his gun out and spins around to face Dave and Hotch. The two BAU agents, and the others in the bullpen, draw their weapons.

"You're a cop. You know this isn't gonna end well," Dave reminds the deputy. Silently, he's hoping to be the one to take the man down.

"You're standing in the middle of the FBI," Hotch speaks up.

The deputy speaks around Fuchs as Lynch slides under a desk. "You think I'm afraid of the FBI? I know how this is going to end and so do you. I'm a decorated officer."

"That's right," Dave agrees. "And this is not how you want to be remembered. You're in control here. You write the ending. Your choice."

The deputy smirks. "The best minds in the FBI. You can't even stop me."

He twists to his right slightly. The glass door shatters, a gunshot echoes down the hallway as the bullet whistles through the air and impacts with the man's skull above his right eye. He falls to the floor, instantly dead.

Dave watches as Jennifer Jareau lowers her gun and stares impassively at the man she just shot. He makes another note to start talking to her about being a profiler instead of media liaison. Hell, he still has no idea what that means.

End Chapter 23