Prologue
Wednesday 1st August 2018.
It had been a rough couple of weeks at Quantico, or not at Quantico, for the BAU so while they knew most people would hate the fact of coming into the third day of stacks of paper work taller than they were, the small team were thoroughly enjoying the down time. Spencer listened in to the exchange of mundane activities that brought his family so much excitement. Being able to tuck the kids in to bed. Watching some poorly executed life time drama. Home cooked food. It was a welcome relief from the pressures of dealing with the countries least desirable citizens.
They'd all had a tricky few months after a more difficult that normal case that resulted in a consultant they'd taken along becoming captured and tortured. Spencer knew Garcia had taken it particularly hard as she'd been on the phone with the consultant at the time and, in her words, didn't realise until it was too late. He was, in fact, certain that was who Garcia went to lunch with most days while the rest of the team had led themselves to believe that Garcia was back on the dating scene. JJ passed his desk, leaving a gift of fresh coffee as she went, sighing and rubbing her neck with her now free hand.
"I'm all for being home for bed time, but these chairs are doing a serious number on me." She muttered, with a chorus of murmured agreement from the team.
"You kno-"
"Just don't, Reid." Alvez groaned.
"What?" Spencer sat back against his own rather uncomfortable chair. "I was just going to say, 'you know you could always just 'borrow' a chair from downstairs.'"
"Wait..." Simmons chimed in. "What do you mean 'borrow'?"
"Well, if anyone sees you then you're bringing it to use with the intention of taking it back," Spencer started, turning back to his work. "If they don't then I believe the term is 'finders, keepers,'" The team laughed.
"I'm not sure it classes as 'finders, keepers' if you went looking for it." Simmons laughed. With that they returned back to the careful shuffling of papers, the occasional grunt or moan and scribbling of pens along with keyboards clicking.
Another hour passed before in succession, the teams phones began to ping calling them into the briefing room. Each member quickly got up from his or her desk, abandoning the work in progress, without saying a word and found their seats at the table quickly, waiting for Rossi, Prentiss and Garcia. Prentiss quickly joined them, followed by Rossi.
"What's happening?" JJ asked Prentiss.
"No idea." She shrugged and sat down. Finally, Garcia hurried into the room. "Garcia, what's the matter?" Prentiss looked confused, which confused the rest of the room as, by standard, being called to this room was already agreed with Prentiss.
"We've got home grown trouble." Garcia blurted out. "You all know Sasha Clarke." The room sat up right, Spencer included. "Silly question, of course you all know Sash-"
"Whats happened to Miss Clarke?" Rossi asked quietly.
"Well, I've been keeping tabs on her - I know, bad Garcia- but today she collapsed." Spencer tried not to look any more concerned then a casual colleague should. "She was over in the lab and one of the juniors found her, called for an ambulance and I got the ping."
"Whats the worry, Garcia?" Spencer put out. "Clarke is well known for working herself to her limit, are you sure she didn't just forget to eat for a day or two again?"
"No, no," Garcia shook her head. "We go to lunch almost every day." A few members shared knowing glances at others that seemed disappointed. "Anyway, the good doctors checked her over and sent her home - she didn't go home, by the way, she's back downstairs - but when they logged everything, I got the ping." Prentiss was holding her temple, like she was trying to carefully consider how to deal with the illegal use of software to keep tabs on a person.
"Where is this going, Penelope?" she sighed, rubbing her head harder.
"Sasha is pregnant." The room was quiet. Everyone looking from person to person not knowing what to do with that information. "9 weeks pregnant." The room then fell eerily silent. Spencer knew what they were thinking. Perfect gestation for her kidnapping. JJ's face said it all. She was worried, and angry. JJ had quickly begun to see Sasha Clarke as a little sister.
"That bastard raped her?" Prentiss dropped her hand.
"It wasn't part of his MO." Simmons reasoned.
"I don't understand," Rossi paused. "Wouldn't we have known about that before? Surely they performed a rape kit at the hospital in Orlando?"
"They offered and she said it wasn't needed." JJ's eyes were filling up.
"She wasn't raped." Spencer said quietly. The whole team had their eyes on him, he could feel them burning into him. "We've talked. A lot. Sharing stories. Trading survival techniques. Advising against survival techniques. She wasn't raped." JJ reached over to grab his hand and sat there rubbing her thumb of the back of his hand. The warmth was comforting. They stayed silent for a while.
"We now have a far bigger issue." Rossi said eventually.
"What do you mean?" Alvez said.
"How do we protect Garcia from a hormonal Sasha when she realises she's been keeping tabs on her all this time?" The tension broke and the team continue back in the usual manner. Spencer sat quietly back at his desk, lost in his own thoughts.