Sapere Aude

by Ezeiel

"Actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea..." How long can someone escape their heritage when it's all they've ever known? It's hard to abandon all that's familiar to you for the sake of something you've always been forced to live without: love, the most dangerous emotion any human can experience. Emily Prentiss x OFC

2. ORTUS - I

PART ONE - ORTUS

CHAPTER I

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2009. QUANTICO, VA

EMILY PRENTISS

...

Emily wondered if there would ever be a time she would be able to peacefully enjoy her scheduled (well-earned, in her unfailing opinion) days off from all the horrors of her day job without insistently being hounded by work (or Hotch, she internally groaned) to relinquish what little work-life balance she had managed to fight back with her teeth bared.

She could try to pretend she was vexed but what life outside of the BAU did she really have? Was the life she lied to her co-workers about - lied to herself about - really a life?

From beside her, however, she didn't miss the exasperated sigh as it left the lips of Derek Morgan, his scowl unmoving.

The agent's heavy torso with defined chest muscles was hidden beneath a deep mauve-coloured shirt that she had the sudden feeling he had just grabbed from his wardrobe given the sparse collection of creases where he obviously hadn't had time to iron it; normally, Morgan would opt for a loose-fitting t-shirt that would coil around his biceps (to stroke his ego as he liked) but that would also accentuate his hips. The shirt he had thrown on in the rush to get ready teased no complaints from her; it clutched his toned arms perfectly, pulling tautly over his broad shoulders and thick, muscular neck. She had always thought the colour suited him.

In the words of Garcia, he was exceedingly glorious, infinite, and all-powerful... not that Emily would ever willingly admit that to him.

She could easily see that his bald head had recently been shaven again - which, if he allowed, grew velvety black hair - and if she squinted hard enough, the couple of small nicks across his scalp brought a small smile to her lips. His angular, stubble-covered jaw ticked ever so slightly which she guessed was his way of showing his subtle annoyance for being pulled into the bureau after only having finished a case nine hours before.

Not that his stubble had been trimmed, Emily allowed herself to study him even closer as she took in his thickly arched eyebrows before she settled on his eyes. One thing she always found comforting about Morgan was the constant knowing feeling about him.

Morgan knew that he was an attractive man - he flaunted it. He didn't need Emily to continuously remind him of it as well and that was also the precise reason he wasn't able to keep a woman and commit to her for longer than whatever fling he fancied and when.

She met his large, meaningful umber eyes casually which held their familiar friendly warmth. "So, what plans did you have?" he breathed out, leaning against the railing in the lift almost lazily as he had done countless times before.

Emily flashed him a wide smile, "Oh, you know a very relaxed afternoon..." she sent him a playful look before nudging his arm gently. "A date with a hot bath and an expensive bottle of red had my name written all over it."

She had, in fact, managed to dodge another unwanted date that had been thrust toward her by Garcia and Jayje at their insistence that she needed to 'get some action' because she was 'missing out' on everyone that was out in there - she had resorted to the perks of her job being the perfect excuse to avoid whoever they had planned to propel her way. Who could question being called into the bureau to get out of an unwanted date? Emily smirked at her own use of the trivial excuse.

His eyebrows rose at her words. "Seems like my invite got lost again, Prentiss."

"You can wish," Emily snorted at Morgan, his whiny tone making her smirk widen further into an eventual smile.

Morgan slapped a fist against his chest where his heart would roughly sit. "Ouch," Morgan chuckled, launching a feigned hurtful expression in her direction.

"Morgan, you should know by now that Emily is never going to extend you an invitation to join her because you're not her type of hot."

Gangly and almost bony, the other agent in the lift turned to look at them with a confused frown, his eyes alive with curiosity. Offering him a small smile, Emily had to resist the urge to shove Reid into the lift's steel-paneled door at his playful comment.

Instead, she clasped her hands together and sucked in a deep breath as Morgan continued to hum from his place beside her, his smirk widening brilliantly.

She looked away from Reid quickly.

A part of her always wondered if Spencer had been born with inhuman abilities to the point where it reminded her of Professor X by the sheer way he would easily decipher her thoughts without actually reading her mind... Emily knew that Reid was only insinuating that she wasn't interested in Morgan that way and not the fact that she was sapphic - not that she would likely share that with them either even though she knew they would be completely understanding and supportive as she would expect them to be... she just wasn't ready.

Two years down the line, she still wasn't ready. She needed to keep some secrets to herself - not that it was a secret in any sense of the word, but the way Garcia and Jayje thrusted men in her direction constantly made it quite plain that they just thought she was unloving or not interested... not because there was another reason.

Emily looked back over at Reid and her face softened; one thing she adored about Reid was his offbeat and unorthodox fondness of dated, mostly dark-coloured or patterned clothes that were almost always loose fitting across his wiry chest.

The shirt he had dressed in was like a tent, standing proud from his flat torso that held no muscle tone (in comparison to Morgan's bank of burliness), baggy against his skeletal arms that were shapeless under his narrow shoulders. His belt was pulled tightly around his bony hips to support his trousers and keep them up his spindly legs.

Emily grinned as she caught his small, alert mahogany eyes that narrowed knowingly at her, framed by thin eyebrows and a straight aquiline nose. It wasn't long before a few seconds later, Reid moved to nervously tuck loose strands of his kinky, mousey chestnut hair behind his ears. He pursed his thin lips in thought, the prominence of his hollow cheeks growing at the movement.

Morgan scoffed, reaching over to flick Reid's ear. "A man can dream, Pretty Boy," he joked, clamping a hand around Reid's shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. "What d'you reckon it is this time?"

Frowning, Emily tilted her in thought as she considered the question and the ultimate reason why she was sharing a lift with Morgan and Reid rather than relaxing in her glorious bathtub as she so desperately wanted. What had made Hotch so sound grave on the phone? "Proxy killer?" She scrunched her nose up in thought, "We haven't had one of those for a while." She doubted that would be the reason for them to be called into the bureau on such short notice, so it would have had to be something more severe... but what?

Reid gave a frown of his own, "Arsonist, maybe?"

"My bet's on family annihilator," Morgan smirked, his eyes watching the lift's screen as they neared their floor.

A part of Emily wished Morgan didn't sound as motivated as he did when trying to guess what their new case would be but the guessing had become a regular habit they all actively participated in - an innocent one - but she couldn't deny the ease of the gentle amusement in it.

Sighing, Reid's hands grasped the strap of his satchel and pulled on it as he teetered back and forth on his heels anxiously. "Whatever it is, the case must be local," Reid gave a quick shrug of his slanted, lanky shoulders as the lift doors lulled and dinged their arrival on the sixth floor before eagerly springing open to let them out with a whoosh. "Jayje said not to bother bringing a go-bag..." his voice trailed off as he exited the lift.

"I hope that's code for an early finish," Emily called after him, moving to follow.

It always made her worry when they were called in but go-bags weren't necessary... it reminded her of how real everything was, of how close to home some cases actually were that she would even go as far as to admit that it scared her sometimes.

Following Reid out, Emily almost staggered into the hard panes of muscle in Morgan's back as he came to a firm halt with a deeply furrowed brow settling across his usually cool features. "Whoa, wait..." Morgan shoved both hands into his trouser pockets, casting his eyes around gradually as he took in the scene transpiring in front of them, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "What's the army doin' here?"

Edging into the bullpen, they came to another measured stop together at the glass doors to see a bustle of people adorned in army uniforms buzzing around their desks as if their lives depended on it - their desks had been upturned, boxes and papers long forgotten with flurries of unfamiliar personnel making themselves at home.

Emily could feel the slow burn of anxiety rising into her chest as she gazed around the bullpen, "What the hell is going on?" she murmured, crossing her arms over her chest.

Morgan glanced over at his two colleagues with an unfamiliar uncertainty lurking in his eyes, "Did we say terrorism?" he quizzed with an arched brow, his mind wandering to that as the only feasible reason why the US armed forces would be present within their unit and demonstrating such a clear apprehensive rush at whatever was transpiring around them that they had yet to discover.

"Who's that talking to Hotch and Rossi?"

Emily's movements faltered slightly when she followed Reid's gaze.

It wasn't difficult to find the person of interest that had captured the young doctor's attention; their stern Hotch and beloved Rossi were both stood lingering on the catwalk just outside their offices, engaged in conversation with what appeared to be an unusually amicable Erin Strauss who wore an unfamiliar attentive expression as she spoke almost animatedly - but next to her was the object of Reid's attention.

The woman she didn't recognise had her back to them as Rossi held out his hand expectantly for her to shake, Hotch's left hand pressed lightly into the small of her back which was enough to determine that they already knew each other.

Glorious flaming auburn hair fell about her shoulders in thick waves, tumbling down her back almost too perfectly to reveal a flash of Nordic fair skin. Her neck was delicately slender as the woman's head inclined towards their boss, nodding at whatever he was saying to her.

The woman's lean torso was covered in a silky obsidian blouse that also held what Emily could see were toned arms beneath the material and a defined waist. Her eyes trailed downwards slowly as she continued to take in more of the woman's appearance: she immediately zeroed in on the woman's angled hips that her pewter tailored trousers clung to almost deliciously (Emily dared to think, surprising herself) before gliding down to tilt her head at her heels (were they Louboutins?) which she guessed gave her an extra four inches of height.

Emily's eyes trailed to the shorter blonde next to them who, if she squinted hard enough to determine if it was part of her imagination or not, actually smiled. Strauss said something to the two men in front of her before placing a hand on the woman's forearm and eventually stepping away entirely to return to her lair.

Only then did Emily finally get to see the woman's face.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Her Nordic complexion was almost mesmerizing; exquisitely creamy and lightly freckled, illuminating her high, defined cheekbones where she had applied a subtle blush that was entirely unnecessary. Her straight button nose was slightly raised at its base and was delicately peppered with a sprinkle of lightly tanned freckles that led all the way down to her full rosy lips, framed by her softly shaped chin and stunning jawline.

As the woman fell into an easy, unified pace with Hotch, Emily let her eyes narrow further as she took in her eyes; her almond-shaped green orbs were alarmingly bright and framed with lustrously delicate lashes and cycloidal-arched eyebrows (she wasn't quite sure if her eyes were a shimmering emerald or glistening veridian). Taking her in fully, Emily couldn't help but feel in awe of the confident aura she had about her - entirely unlike anyone she had known in years.

"No clue," Morgan murmured eventually to bring her out of her thoughts, swinging his bag down from its place over his shoulder to dump it onto his desk with a thud, completely forgotten as he allowed himself to follow her freely with his eyes. "I don't usually go for redheads but I'd make an exception for her..." He grinned, glancing over his shoulder at Emily who only sent him a grimace in reply. "Reckon she's a single woman?"

Watching them disappear into the conference room, Emily rolled her eyes. "Come on, Derek..." She watched Morgan place his own bag under his desk as Reid slung his satchel over his chair, quickly glancing around the bullpen as it continued to bustle with the noise of the army. "Can't you cool it for five minutes?" she added with a scoff.

Morgan threw her a smirk, "Never, Prentiss."

"It must be serious if Strauss was here."

Emily didn't doubt that Reid was right.

Since having met the woman a little over two years ago, it wasn't hard to see that she wasn't anything other than the administrative mogul they knew her to be, trying her hand at the bigger picture so, for the army to have infiltrated the bullpen and for Strauss to be lurking something serious had happened to warrant both of their presence.

Following her colleagues into the conference room, Emily faltered in her movements when she saw that the table was already crowded. Closest to the door was Jayje who had her back to her almost completely.

Despite being short and slight, Emily was never surprised by the blonde and her ability to put up a decent wrangle when she had to - they always tried to protect Jayje where they could but recently she had come into her own.

Their media liaison had dressed simply in a stone blue button-down shirt that had been left open at the neck so it could frame the delicate chain that sat at her clavicle, its dainty diamond encased in gold that had been a gift from Will for her most recent birthday. She had drawn her fine, flaxen hair up into a loose ponytail with the shorter hairs clinging to the base of her neck, too short to be secured. She had always been jealous of how tanned Jayje was without even trying to be.

A soft crease had settled between her fine eyebrows where her button nose was as she stood with her bowed to the papers in front of her, studying closely until the presence of Morgan and Reid edging by made her glance upwards and a small smile was tugging across her face at the sight of them.

Her large expressive, azure eyes met hers immediately as she hovered at the doorway, trying to assess her and eventually settling on a silent question that was pulling at her full lips that had been coated in a natural-coloured lipstick. Emily gave a slight shake of her head.

To her left, Rossi was standing with one hand drawn into his jean pocket with the other stroking his neat and very precise goatee-covered jaw in deep thought, his thick eyebrows knitting closely together.

She took in the rest of his appearance and found herself smiling; Rossi wore one of his many commodore shirts that always complimented his olive skin with one of his favoured Brioni blazers. Emily was certain his jeans were also Italian - everything about the man was Italian from his broad, crooked nose down to his leather boots.

Sensing eyes on him, Rossi looked up and gave her a firm bob of his head. His knowing hickory eyes warmed as they met hers for a moment, the hand that had been at his goatee came up to run through his thick carob barnet before finally flitting away again.

Emily frowned at that. What was wrong?

Besides him was the woman she had assaulted with her eyes, talking with their boss in a manner that was far too familiar for her liking. Hotch, despite his usual stoic exterior, seemed warm in his regard for the woman which was so unlike how he normally was that it was unsettling.

Tall and willowy, Hotch was easily unnerving to anyone who didn't know him - with his slender neck and slanted, broad shoulders and lean torso, Emily always wondered if he would be able to take Morgan on. Unlike the latter, Hotch wasn't stocky or heavily muscled in the slightest; his waist was narrow and his build was athletic but she didn't doubt he would be able to hold his own.

His head was tilted in the redhead's direction, his fervent chocolate eyes genuine as they spoke in hushed tones with his clean-shaven angular jaw clenching and unclenching methodically. His thick, coal hair had been cropped short in the hours she had last seen him where it had been beginning to quiff due to its length on their last case but was now faintly spiked.

His suit wasn't garishly expensive like Rossi's but it was fit for purpose to lead them as their unit chief - spotless and gleaming - and completely American with one of his preferred crimson ties knotted perfectly at the apex of his shirt. He wore his usual frown that was made more severe by his Roman-like nose and dark brows; his eyebrows were arched deeply in focus that descended all the way down to his cleft chin, highlighting the deepness of his gaze.

Assessing the room once more, Emily tried to remain objective as she pushed off from where she had settled but she couldn't help but wonder why they were to be joined by two unfamiliar faces.

As she stepped passed Jayje, the blonde's eyes continued to follow her before sending her a small smile when she settled herself into the far side of the room and allowed herself to glance around at everyone that was in there slowly before settling on the only other person she had yet to see.

"Guys," Jayje announced, pulling their attention to her as Garcia whizzed into the room in a bustle of flamboyant colour, as if she was reading Emily's mind before gesturing to the woman beside her: "This is Doctor Linda Kimura, chief of special pathogens with the CDC."

Emily smiled, giving a small awkward wave to be more polite than anything before feeling a pair of her eyes on her. "Hello," she greeted, her gaze flickering to the right to see the redhead standing at Rossi's side watching her.

"Hello," Linda smiled in return, her eyes gliding around the room briefly. "I'm sorry to meet under these circumstances."

Reid's head perked up at her words and when Emily looked at him, she could see the frown intensifying at an alarming rate. "What circumstances?"

Before anyone had the chance to respond, Hotch harshly cleared his throat to draw everyone's attention to him and stiffly straightened his tie as he came to settle beside the unfamiliar redhead in the conference room again with a dark look on his face. "This is Siobhán Quinn," he announced to them all, gesturing to her with a tight upturn of his lips as Emily caught a glance of the familiar glint rising into her boss's eyes as he introduced the other woman that she couldn't quite put her finger on. "She'll be consulting with us on this case from Interpol."

Interpol? Emily could barely contain her frown as she allowed it to cross her face as soon as Hotch spoke the words she had been waiting on; it seemed she wasn't the only person struggling to understand what was going on either because-

"Interpol?" Morgan questioned in slight perplexity, cutting off her thoughts instantaneously as he directly voiced his own.

Emily's eyebrows arched in intrigue and she suddenly felt spurred on by Morgan. "How is this Interpol related?" She blanched at the tone of her own voice as she had said the words, having come out more forceful than she had really meant for them to be.

Up until then, all of them had yet to hear the woman speak a single word so when she did eventually grace them with her voice, Emily couldn't deny the blatant struggle she was met with when she heard it for the first or when Siobhán flashed a brilliant smile at her that easily stunned her into shock.

Tucking her hair behind her ear in a way that made Emily wonder if it was a similar nervous tick like Reid had or if it was a distraction method, Siobhán sighed softly and smiled again: "It's naht boeht given me lengthy wahrk in counterterrorism fahr MI6…" she gave a dismissive shrug of her shoulders as she held the raven-haired woman's gaze easily, her smile making her eyes shine until she obviously clocked everyone's startled expression by the broadness of her accent. "I'm ahnly ere 'cause dere's no movement in me coehrrent case."

Emily immediately felt embarrassed with how quickly her head had snapped up at the sound of a soft Irish timber rising into the room, having not expected the accent to fall from the redhead's lips as softly as it had but it seemed she wasn't the only one evidently taken back by it either.

From her right, Morgan gave a soft chuckle as he leaned forward onto his palms, pressing them into the table's edge. "You're Irish," he noted lightly, his tone playful enough that it had Emily rolling her eyes.

Siobhán tilted her head at the male agent which made her hair cascade over one shoulder, her smile growing slightly. "Great profilin' boeht given me accent, it's ahbvious."

Her reply only succeeded in stealing another chuckle from Morgan, "I like the sassiness," he sent her a cocky wink before holding his hand out to her in an outstretched motion, "I'm Derek."

The woman smiled again, grasping his hand firmly in politeness. "Nice to meet yer, Derek," Siobhán teased, her eyes slipping over to Emily again who hadn't been able to stop staring at her since she entered the conference room.

Looking down, Emily internally admonished herself and prayed silently that her cheeks weren't flaming but she doubted otherwise.

Coughing to clear his throat again, Hotch frowned at the interaction being displayed before them and looked in Jayje's direction. "We can continue with introductions later... we need to get started."

Despite not pushing it, Emily couldn't help but feel disappointed that not everyone had been introduced to one another as was the norm with cases like the one they were about to face - or in her case, she found herself mildly disappointed that she had been unable to introduce herself to Siobhán and had allowed Morgan to slide in first so easily, so smoothly that it was embarrassing.

Handing out copies of the case for them all to take, Jayje passed Emily her copy and sent her a silent concerned look when their eyes met again and she realised that she must have been so blatantly obvious in her intrigue for the blonde to become worried. Emily wanted to groan - did she look that forlorn? When had she gotten so bad at hiding it?

Thankfully, Jayje appeared to shake off her concern easily enough and everyone else around the round table had barely noticed a shift in her behaviour. "Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis..." Jayje finished handing out the last of the case files before clasping her hands together in front of her, a dark look falling across her face. "They were all at the same park after two o'clock yesterday afternoon and within ten hours, the first victim died. It's now just past seven the morning after and we have twelve dead."

Emily's brow furrowed as she looked over at her, knowing cases that were like the one they found themselves dealing with at that very moment always made an impact on Jayje now that she had Henry to think about, she could help but feel for the young mother.

Her attention was pulled from Jayje when the agent to her right spoke aloud: "Lung failure and... black lesions," Morgan read, hurriedly glancing through the file he held before looking between his colleagues for affirmation. "Anthrax?"

Reid bit the inside of his cheek and gave a slight shake of his head, "Anthrax doesn't kill this fast."

"This strain does."

At Kimura's words, everyone's heads sprung up in disbelief to gradually register her words.

As Emily slowly glanced up, her eyes ghosted back over to where Siobhán was standing and instantly became startled when she saw that she was staring right back at her, a silent question rising into her gaze. She couldn't quite put her finger on it but it left her feeling uneasy.

Glancing away and blinking profusely, Emily allowed herself a few moments before she looked up again when she felt the same eyes boring into her but frowned when she saw that Siobhán was no longer looking at her but instead, she was studying the paper she held in her hands profoundly as if the world depended on it.

Shaking her head firmly to clear her thoughts of Siobhán, Emily set her file down on the table and scolded herself before reeling back to stare up at her colleagues. "What are we doing about potential mass targets..." she trailed off expectantly, glancing around her team to gauge their reactions before she continued: "You know... airports? Shopping complexes? Trains?"

"There's a media blackout."

Her eyes shot to Hotch in an instant in what she could only describe as blatant incredulity as he spoke. Her face contorted in gradual outrage as she began to slowly process his words - they were keeping it under lock and key? "We're not telling the public?" They were to keep it on the low?

"We'd have a mass exodus," Morgan reasoned softly, meeting her gaze in a gentle reminder and offering her shoulder a light squeeze to bring her back to reality.

Emily opened her mouth to argue but was soon cut off by the newly familiar Irish cadence interrupting her: "Absahlutely," Siobhán gave a firm nod of her head, her red hair bouncing at the movement before she moved to fold her arms over her chest, inclining her head. "We know de psychahlogy o' group panic wooehld cause mahre deaths dan de last attack."

Emily met Siobhán's eyes again and tried to not rise to comment despite how much she disagreed with withholding information that the public deserved to know but it seemed that even Reid wasn't seeing her side of it. "Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples." He set his file aside on the table and scratched his head in thought.

"Or if they wanted attention and didn't get it, they might attack again," Emily pressed, looking around the room hurriedly to gauge everyone's response before continuing: "But doesn't the public have the right to know that?"

"If-" Hotch never got to finish his words.

Everyone's heads turned to face their newest acquaintance in a mixture of startlement and concern by their Unit Chief having been swept into silence so easily that it was alarming to see Aaron Hotchner seemingly stunned but altogether, accepting of it.

"Sahrry, Aarahn," Siobhán cut him off softly, and ordinarily, Hotch's stern glower would have been enough to force his team into a petrified silence but the redhead seemed only spurred on by his reaction to her interruption. "If dere's anahther attack, dere's no way we'll be able to keep it quiet..." she directed her reply to Emily, her eyes a steady reminder that the woman was unfamiliar with their job and what it meant to profile. "So, ooehr best chance o' prahtectin' de poehblic is by buildin' a prahfile as quickly as we can."

Our? Emily arched a single brow questioningly before sending Siobhán a pointed look from where she stood. So, on the hearsay of Strauss, both Hotch and Rossi had opted to trust someone they all barely knew as though she was one of their own... for which, she was certain of their universal awareness for her outrageously poor judge of character given how she had tried to remove Hotch.

"What do we know about this strain?" Reid's question was enough to bring Emily out of her thoughts, finally glancing away from Siobhán.

Emily registered that the question had been aimed at the other doctor in the room who practically paled when she realised that she was to further disclose the level of severity posed not only to the public but also to them as they would be battling to prevent it. "The spores are weaponised, reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs," Kimura explained with a pensive look befalling her face, looking over at Reid as she detailed what they were up against. "They're odourless and invisible."

"It's a sophisticated strain, then," Rossi offered with an earnest expression, his fingers stroking his goatee absently as he considered the new knowledge. "Only a scientist would know how to do that."

Passing the photos along the group, Emily couldn't help but frown again when she spotted Morgan handing them to Siobhán with a small smile before gesturing, "These lesions are doublin' in size in a matter of hours," he countered, his brows furrowing again as he regarded the photos next to the redhead who was inspecting them closely from his side.

She felt her eyes narrow at the pair of them and she immediately knew that Siobhán was someone she wasn't going to get along with easily.

Kimura nodded in agreement at Morgan's comment, "It's not the lesions I'm worried about... it's the lungs," she explained as she watched Reid furiously flip through the recorded notes that had been included within the case files. "We don't know how to combat the toxins once they're inside and the reality is, we may lose them all."

"The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed hospital," Jayje continued firmly, clenching her jaw to what Emily assumed was to keep control over her emotions - she guessed her mind was reeling at that moment, fretting over Henry's safety as she internally fought with herself to push through it. "Our offices will become a small command center."

From beside Siobhán, Hotch cleared his throat to grasp everyone's attention before he spoke: "We'll be working with military scientists from Fort Detrick."

Rossi's eyes practically bulged at the information. "General Whitworth is coming here?" he rebuked sharply which made it obvious to everyone in the conference room that they shared a history of sorts.

Hotch gave a slight nod of his head, holding Rossi's gaze for a long moment. "He's in charge of site containment and spore analysis... determining what strain this is will help inform who's responsible."

"My team is in charge of treating all victims."

Silence settled in the conference room for a few moments before Hotch stepped forward, straightening his tie again out of habit more than anything as he glanced at the young doctor who was standing opposite him. "Reid, go with Doctor Kimura to the hospital and interview any surviving victims," he instructed in a steely tone before looking over to the other side of the table where Emily was stood next to Morgan and she could already see the plan ticking away in Hotch's eyes before he announced it. "Morgan and Prentiss, you'll go with Siobhán... there's a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene."

Eyes widening, Emily inwardly groaned at Hotch's instruction before looking over at Siobhán to see that she wasn't paying her any attention at all and was collecting her file to neatly rearrange it again before Hotch continued, gesturing to the tray that had been laid out before them. "This is Cipro," he enlightened with a slight scowl, eyeing the eight clear cups with his deeply furrowed brow. "Everybody needs to take it before we go."

Kimura reached for the tray that was sitting in front of her on the table and grasped it firmly before offering it out to them all patiently, "We don't know if it's effective against this strain, but it's something."

Reaching for a palm-sized cup, Emily tipped its contents to one side in disdain and looked down at the tablets almost shakily before glancing back up again and looking at everyone around her who was copying her movements eerily. "This is really happening?" she breathed out, puffing out her cheeks.

Watching her colleagues swallow the tablets, she glanced over at their leader to see his stern brow unmoving. "We knew this could happen, we've done our homework and we've prepared for this," Hotch reassured in a hardened, practiced resistance they were all familiar with that was enough to settle all uneasiness. "This is it."

"Jin dan," Rossi raised his cup with a forced smile, "May you live a hundred years."

As her coworkers moved to make haste, Emily stared as Siobhán pulled on her slim-fitting plaid blazer that was a shade darker than her trousers and tucked her visitor's badge into its left pocket before turning to Morgan with an amused look across her soft features: "Yer drivin' I take it?" she called out with perfectly arched brows, pulling Emily from her thoughts to trail behind the pair of them as they left the conference room.

Emily also noted that her accent had softened, and her words were far more pronounced as she spoke to Morgan then than they had been in the conference room... she found herself surprised - the woman was making a conscious effort to make it easier for her to be understood by them. Thank God, she internally groaned in relief. Hotch was obviously used to her accent but everyone else?

Unable to conceal his grin, Morgan's eyes practically shone at Siobhán as the three of them wandered through the bullpen, moving past the workforce that had infiltrated their usually well-controlled offices, waiting for the lift that would take them to the parking garage.

"You betcha…" he chuckled, wagging his eyebrows as the lift's doors whooshed open in a smooth jitter. "Unless you're used to drivin' on the wrong side of the road?"

"Very foehnny."

Gesturing to both of them, Emily frowned when she saw that Morgan's eyes still hadn't strayed from Siobhán as she glided into the lift's compartment first with her following behind sullenly. Stepping in after them, Morgan clicked the button for the garage and leaned back against the handrail that pressed into his coccyx, folding his arms over his chest. "So, spitfire…" he started slowly, inching his head at Siobhán as Emily glowered at the use of the sudden nickname.

Was he being serious? Emily arched a brow.

The use of the nickname sent a flash of genuine surprise across the redhead's face that had Emily's own frown lifting. Siobhán didn't seem dismayed by the attempt at familiarity from Morgan, Emily noted and if anything, seemed to welcome it.

Siobhán was eyeing Morgan curiously, her head tilted to the side in perplexity more than anything which invited the other agent in the lift to continue, allowing him to finish whatever he intended to ask.

"Once this has all blown over, what d'you say to us going for some drinks afterward?"

Men, always thinking of the other guy… Emily snorted at Morgan's forwardness but Siobhán, on the other hand, blinked slowly as she registered his words with faint consternation crossing her face at his beguilement.

"Yer very sure o' yerself, aren't yer?" The redhead acknowledged amusedly, fiddling with the small signet ring that sat on her left small finger that bore a design Emily couldn't quite make out before bringing the same hand to rest against her chest, letting out a soft chuckle and giving a shake of her head: "I'm really flattered boeht I dahn't date cowahrkers…" Emily found herself taken aback when Siobhán's eyes floated over to meet hers then, "Potential o' naht."

Morgan threw his head back in laughter, "What a way to break a man's heart!"

Siobhán smiled a bit more widely and Emily wondered if she truly meant it or if it was part of what she wanted them to see and to believe whilst she was there. "Bein' unpretentious ain't part of yer psyche, I can tell," she mocked lightly with her smile still ever-present across her lips, her eyes boring into the man opposite her.

The woman was prodding Morgan's bravado with her delicately manicured ballerina nails as though it was a freshly baked loaf of bread, soft and pliable. It made Emily's skin crawl by the way Morgan lapped it up.

Emily's eyes flew over to Morgan to see him grinning from ear-to-ear at Siobhán in response, seemingly unbothered by her words altogether. She felt like she was barely there as the two of them progressed in their conversation.

"When a lady looks like you, baby girl…" he breathed out softly with a faint smile, his brows rising in wonder at the other woman in front of him as he carried on: "How can a guy pretend otherwise?"

Rolling her eyes in blatant disbelief, Emily scoffed and let her head roll back to hit the lift wall with a soft thud that was loud enough to draw both Morgan and Siobhán's attention to her, breaking their flow of words. "Oh, please…" she ground out in disgust, clenching her jaw as she gripped the rail tightly until her knuckles glowed white. "Put it back in your mouth."

At the comment, Morgan chuckled at her and offered her a kind smile that she knew was meant to settle her annoyance with his flirting and that it was harmless - but was anything with Morgan harmless? She knew she should have been more than used to it by now having worked with him for a little over two years but it still bothered her with how much of a manwhore Morgan flaunted himself as. It was embarrassing.

Turning her head away from him, Emily stilled when she caught the familiar verdant gaze of Siobhán - a sight she was becoming increasingly familiar with despite how uneasy her curious gaze made her feel - and stared back as the woman's gaze narrowed.

From where she was leaning, Siobhán held her gaze firmly for a couple of moments as though she wanted to say something before she glanced away, her eyes dropping fleetingly before they bounced back over to where Morgan was. "I'd be interested to see if yer steck wit dat first impression…" Siobhán encouraged with a small smirk, pushing off of the rail once the lift dinged their arrival to the garage, allowing them all to flee from its confines.

Thank God, Emily internally screamed as she almost barreled over the threshold.

Striding ahead of her two dithering companions, Emily wished she was anywhere else but with Morgan and Siobhán as they continued to dance around each other like they were speed-dating - being forced to listen to their awful exchange made her feel more exasperated than she actually thought was necessary let alone possible.

"I trust my instincts, sweetheart," Morgan breathed, sending another smirk Siobhán's way as they fell into a soft pace together.

Giving another eye roll, Emily gave a loud groan of incredulity and had to restrain herself from reeling around on her heel to reprimand Morgan for his insistence in baiting Siobhán to rise to his shameful flirting. "Morgan, give it a rest," she called over her shoulder with a grumble under her breath, sighing in relief when the lights to his SUV flashed, alerting her that it was unlocked and would be her momentary haven. "Please…"

She should have known that when Hotch had paired her with Morgan and Siobhán that this would have been the case; she was used to Morgan's constant flirting with Garcia, even his flirting with herself but with someone they would be forced to work closely with that neither of them knew? She wasn't too sure why she was letting it get under her skin so easily but she had also made the stupid mistake of letting Morgan see that it was annoying her. Idiot...

"Don't take any notice of her, spitfire," she heard Morgan call out softly to Siobhán from where they strolled (almost idly) behind her, showing no urgency to reach the SUV as quickly as she was, grasping the handle of the back passenger door to clamber inside with little patience. "Sure you don't want the front seat, Prentiss?" Morgan called out to her with another laugh.

Emily poked her head around the door and grimaced at Morgan, was he being serious? She scowled when she saw him grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. "God, no… don't mind me, the backseat will do just fine." She shut the door with a slam.

She reached for her seatbelt to pull it across her chest, straightening her back as she watched Morgan and Siobhán climb into the front seats of the SUV, laughing amongst themselves which ordinarily would have bothered her to no end if she wasn't so caught up in why Siobhán was really there - Morgan could flirt with her to his heart's content but that wouldn't stifle her growing desire to find out why Strauss had dragged this woman into the bureau with little clearance.

Allowing the conversation to settle between the two of them in the front, Emily sat forward in her seat abruptly and curled her hand around the seat where Siobhán sat as Morgan pulled away with a jolt after turning the key in the ignition. "All right," Emily announced as she coughed to clear her throat, allowing her intrigue to finally get the better of her. "So, why is Interpol really involved with this case?" she found herself asking, finally unable to deny her desperate need to know.

Inclining her head toward Emily, Siobhán gave a soft smile with a small crease forming between her brows. "I wasn't lyin' when I said Interpol wasn't invahlved…" she explained softly and Emily felt Siobhán's eyes lingering on her as she glanced at her through a half-lidded gaze, her smile demising after a few moments which was enough to force Emily to shrink back into her seat. "Sahmethin' tells me yer dahn't troehst easily, Emily."

Emily almost shivered at the way she said her name.

Clearing his throat to break the obvious tension that was escalating within the SUV, Morgan sent her a warning look through his rearview mirror which was enough to force her back into her silence.

Did Morgan think she was a liability? She was a profiler for Christ's sake… finding out answers to her questions was her job - it was what she was good at! But nonetheless, Emily relented and slumped back into her seat with another grimace. A part of her wanted to probe further - to really ascertain whether Siobhán was being genuine or not but she decided that saying nothing was far easier (and safer).

A few moments later, Morgan was speaking again: "So, have you been here in DC long?"

Siobhán laughed at the question, shaking her head. "Frequent flyer, let's say…" she trailed off, glancing out of the window to her right with a distant look settling across her face, her fingers drumming against the windowsill of the car door methodically. Sighing, Siobhán sucked in a sharp breath before looking back over at Morgan with a pained expression. "Yer'd be soehrprised 'ow many international cases find deir way into me lap dese days…"

Morgan looked over at her briefly as they exited the garage, "So, it's safe to say you're good at your job, then?" he chuckled, nudging her elbow playfully.

Emily didn't miss the smirk that crossed Siobhán's face at the compliment.

"Ni lia duine na tuairim."

Frowning at the words as she said them and although Emily wasn't too sure what had been said, she froze as her mind ticked into overdrive when she immediately recognised the language. How could she not? She hadn't heard anything like Siobhán had said in at least five years - and it didn't fail to make her blood run cold at the mere thought as it crossed her mind, enough to make her heart freeze over as the Gaelic words dissipated among them.

She could feel her eyes beginning to sting. Is tú mo ghrá... she shuddered as the words echoed in her mind.

"English, please?" Morgan frowned.

Siobhán chuckled in return and made her words more coherent, "Subject to ahpinion."

Subject to opinion… Emily frowned in thought at her words and sighed, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration as she glowered into the back of the headrest, trying to piece together why such an up-and-coming star from Interpol was wasting her time with them. There had to be more to it! She couldn't figure it out and what made her even more frustrated, was that Morgan seemed completely oblivious to it.

Leaning back into his chair, Morgan slid on his dark opaque rimless sunglasses. "Are you plannin' on stayin' here for long?" Emily rolled her eyes again at his insistence.

"Wooehldn't yer like to know?" Siobhán retorted with another bright smile, casting her gaze in Morgan's direction as the agent turned down a road and accelerated before he looked back over at her for her response. "I usually spend de majahrity o' me time in England now boeht specialisin' in ahrganised crime 'nd undercover ahperations can 'ave a butterfly effect... when a case o' specialty comes up, I usually bounce between de invahlved countries where necessary 'nd it's always consecutive."

So, Siobhán was so competent in her job that she was heading up a prolonged case with little interaction from anyone else at her Interpol office apart from interactions with the local authorities involved and was still no closer to solving the case... Emily sat forward again in her seat, "Oh, really?" She didn't mean for it to come across as questioning as it did but she couldn't help but feel an unease of skepticism towards Siobhán.

Siobhán looked into the rear mirror and met her gaze easily, "Really," she affirmed steadily, a tight-lipped smile pulled across her face.

"I take it that's what you were speakin' with Strauss and Hotch about," Morgan cut in before Emily had the chance.

The redhead shook her head softly, turning her gaze so she was looking out of the window again. "No, actually... Aarahn 'nd I are good friends, we moehst've met around two years ago, kept in touch pretty moehch ever since, ahften liaise on cases when dey crossover boeht recently Strauss 'as gahtten invahlved to do wit ahther things..." Siobhán looked back over at Morgan briefly before she looked behind herself at Emily. "She's been eager to get me into de bureau fahr some time due to me specialties boeht I've always refused 'cause o' ahther commitments."

"So, she was proposing it to Hotch…" Emily guessed, unable to tear her eyes away from Siobhán when the redhead looked back over at her again.

Siobhán smiled at her, "Bingo."

"Maybe you should take her up on the offer?"

Siobhán let out an exaggerated groan at Morgan's suggestion, letting her head fall against the headrest as she did and Emily frowned at the reaction to joining the bureau. She didn't know whether to be offended or relieved. "Let me guess, she's been chattin' in yer ear as well?" She eyed the pair of them for a few moments before rubbing her brow in annoyance: "I'm 'ere to 'elp wit a case, naht interview fahr a job..."

Emily saw Morgan shrug from where he sat in the driver's seat. "You might enjoy it more than what you're doin' now..." he suggested with a slight smile.

"Dere's a laht o' things to take into consideration befahre I make a decision ahn anythin'."

Before she was entirely aware of it, the words were jumping from Emily's mouth and she wasn't able to stop herself. "Like what exactly?" The words made their mark simply, lacking any spite or malice towards Siobhán but they were enough to rouse a reaction from Morgan.

Knowing that her forcefulness was borderline audacious, Emily wasn't surprised when she found Morgan's pointed gaze in the rear mirror, warning her silently. "Prentiss, calm down..." he urged softly, obviously finding her boldness unsettling.

Siobhán, however, seemed unperturbed by Emily's obvious gall and gave a gentle chuckle: "Yer dahn't like outsiders very moehch, d'yer?" She looked over her shoulder and stared for a few moments, assessing her quietly before adding: "I can tell."

"I just don't understand why you're here." She didn't mean for it to sound so accusatory.

Morgan shot her a look, a concerned expression crossing his face immediately as she glowered at herself. "Emily, come on… leave the woman be," he attempted to reason with her.

"It's not my fault..." Emily grumbled under her breath.

"It's fine, I'm robust enooehgh," Siobhán sucked in a breath before continuing, shrugging her shoulders: "Erin wants me to be a part o' yer team 'nd I'm reluctant boeht troehst me when I say, I'm 'ere ahn dis case to 'elp naht 'inder," she let out what sounded like a genuine laugh.

Emily shivered inadvertently before turning her attention to the scenery they passed and pretended to be unaware of the glances Morgan was continuously shooting at her. "Sure you're okay, princess?" he asked again, ignoring the fact that she was uncomfortable with Siobhán being there.

Emily chuckled half-heartedly, wondering if the profiler was truly a blind idiot. "I'm all good."

"Seriously, Em-"

"Morgan, it's fine..." She turned her head again and stared out the window to signal that the conversation was over.

Despite feeling her frustration escalating, Morgan seemed apparently unruffled - or he simply chose to rise above it - and decided to continue as though nothing had transpired; from the front, she saw him poke Siobhán's arm and grin, "What's the case you're workin' on?" His question was enough to bring the redhead's attention back to him from what Emily could see although the other woman was clearly reluctant to divulge any detail by her blatant hesitation which pulled a subsequent groan from Morgan's lips. "Oh, come on... don't pretend you can't tell us," he flashed a wink.

Emily heard a sharp snort.

Turning her head slowly, Emily looked over at Siobhán and could see the blatant conflict alive on her face as she sat with her brow furrowed, her eyes boring into her lap. She could see the muscle of her jaw ticking under her porcelain skin as she thought deeply, her lips pursed. Emily watched as she interlocked her hands together and squeezed as though she was trying to ground herself.

The redhead turned her attention towards Morgan, "If yer weren't prahfilers, I wooehldn't be tellin' yer at all..." Siobhán's eyes left Morgan gradually, flashing Emily a look before turning her attention back to Morgan and finally relenting. "It's de Tinker case... I'm sure yer familiar wit it."

"Is that the one where-"

Emily sighed and crossed her arms over her chest and was speaking over Morgan effortlessly in her miserable stupor before she was able to think anything through, "The UnSub targets females between twenty-five to forty," she easily interjected, her tone sharp in its quip. "He asphyxiates them to knock them out and subdues them with a neuromuscular blocking agent—"

"Vecuronium," Siobhán cut in, her jaw clenching.

"— to paralyse the body before cutting open the victim's skull, dissecting the brain, and removing the hypothalamus."

Morgan made a face, rolling his eyes at Emily as he stared at her reflection. "You forgot a part, Prentiss..." he admonished with a slight smirk on his lips, "He also cuts a Trinity knot into each of the victim's foreheads and leaves the same phrase each time."

"Geychas needjas greydi gyamyath mwilsha... as we forgive those who sin against us," Siobhán spoke lowly to accentuate each word, a dark look crossing her face that made Emily's stomach drop from where she sat in the back, a shiver racing down her spine at the words. "De Lord's Bead in ol' Shelta."

Emily frowned, unsettled by how tormented the woman had suddenly grown as she glowered into nothing. "Old Shelta?"

"Spahken by Irish Wanderers," Siobhán exhaled loudly, bringing herself from her pensiveness, and looked between the pair expectantly, suddenly surprised by their knowledge of the case. "So, yer both aware o' it... de ahnly new development is dat de victims were closeted 'ahmosexual females," she explained with a deeply furrowed brow, her head turning back towards the window.

"It's come across Jayje's desk once or twice…" Emily murmured although she wasn't entirely sure why she felt telling her was necessary, easily catching Siobhán's gaze again as the other woman tilted her head.

"It's an interestin' case," Morgan agreed sheepishly.

Siobhán laughed bitterly at his words which Emily assumed because it wasn't a case she would have freely chosen to gravitate to given how it had her flying between two continents to find whoever was responsible. "It's been goin' ahn fahr over two years 'nd we're still no closer to pinpointin' a suspect," the Irishwoman grumbled out through gritted teeth, her furrowed brow unmoving as she spoke. "De trinity knaht is a taunt to me."

Morgan turned his head towards Siobhán, "Because you're Irish."

"It's part o' de MO dat was absent durin' de first wave o' 'ahmicides... I'm wanted ahff de case 'cause it's gettin' persahnal, 'e's watchin' me 'nd I'm waitin' fahr 'im."

Morgan's expression softened and he nodded knowingly. "But you feel you owe it to the victims," he added softly.

Siobhán sighed, "Dey can't reap deir own justice so, someone's gahtta do it fahr 'em."

Sitting forward again, Emily cleared her throat to pull both of her companion's attention to her. "The triquetra symbol represents the Holy Trinity..." Morgan's brow rose from what she could see in the mirror, silently asking her for more detail as she recited from the backseat, "Each point represents an entity of God. The top point is God with the other two representing Jesus and the Holy Spirit with the circle representing eternal life... the UnSub could see it as doing God's work…" she trailed off slowly when she realised Siobhán was staring at her intently, a slow smile pulling at her lips. "What?"

The redhead shook her head, looking away from her finally to sigh, gritting her teeth. "Nahthin'… yer assessment's sound."

As Siobhán's eyes bored into her, Emily felt dazed with the unexpected warmth spreading across her face when she realised that she was complimenting her on her familiarity with a case that was very close to her.

Morgan sighed, shifting in his seat as he stared ahead at the road. "That must be seriously frustratin' for you… the UnSub kills eight victims here in DC across a four-week period and then five more bodies turn up with the exact same MO and victimology except for this time, somewhere in Dorset across eight weeks, in another country," he said softly.

Emily nodded in acknowledgment, "He only kills across three months each year and then the case goes cold until his dormant period is over again."

Siobhán frowned, "We've established dat 'e's mession-ahriented, targetin' 'ahmosexual females in two specific geographical areas wit de same MO-"

"That's just-" Morgan cut himself off and exhaled forcefully through his nostrils before he looked back over at Siobhán. "Have you not explored the possibility it's cult related?"

"It wooehld make sense boeht dere's nahthin' dat indicates it… 'nd de 'ahmicides are so sporadic…" Siobhán paused in thought for a couple of seconds and let out the breath she had been holding onto. "We estimated dat de victim count wooehld be 'igher in cult killings... boeht given de timeframe between de murders, it isn't feasible."

Emily stayed silent for a moment, her jaw clenched as she thought over the case that she had seen Hotch and Jayje conversing over a few times in the last couple of months whenever it crossed Jayje's desk. "But the media presence hasn't been huge-"

"It's been huge somewhere for him to get the name Tinker killer," Morgan countered.

Emily frowned, "What does that even mean?"

"Tinker refers to de travellin' cahmmunity in Ireland," Siobhán commented in a leveled tone, biting her lip which immediately told Emily that there was more to the case than she was letting on. "Traditionally frahm tinsmithin', it's ahld archaic term fahr sahmeone who mends 'ousehahld utensils... pahts 'nd pans, stuff like dat boeht it's a mahre pejorative term now 'nd is basically an insult, it's like callin' Romani people gyppos."

Reaching a set of traffic lights, Morgan broke softly and looked over at Siobhán properly then. "So, he's Irish?"

"With the Irish motifs, it would be wrong to assume anything else." It was Emily who had spoken, drawing Morgan's attention to her momentarily before Siobhán cleared her throat.

She was scowling when Emily looked back at her but the redhead nodded all the same: "A Lucht Siúil... de walkin' people."

"It sounds like you're part of the victimology..." Morgan raised an eyebrow at her, "It's a bit risky for you to be so involved when it seems this personal."

Siobhán looked up at Morgan questioningly, brows pulled together in a frown. "Dahn't think I dahn't know dat boeht we'll get him eventually…" Siobhán affirmed in sudden confidence, "It's just about when."

"So, why do it?"

Emily stared as Siobhán gradually looked over at her as though she was assessing her, reading her so deeply that Emily swore she could feel her heartbeat quicken at the way Siobhán watched her before finally opening her mouth to speak. "'e knows I wahn't stop oehntil I 'ave 'im," she insisted lowly, a dark look crossing her face that Emily would never be able to understand.

Morgan blew out a deep breath, "Just like Hotch with Foyet."

So, Siobhán was fighting her own demon like Hotch was with George Foyet... and the woman refused to be defeated, just like Hotch. It was to be admired, the sheer diligence she was demonstrating in her persistence to follow him to and from Dorset and Washington with the intent of catching him time after time... What surprised her, even more, was how close to the case Siobhán was - how the UnSub had worked her into his MO as an attempt to scare her away which had only succeeded in making her more gung-ho in finding him.

"In all-" Emily cut herself off soundly, swallowing the breath she didn't know she had been in holding to squeeze her eyes shut as she relinquished her pride before finally continuing: "If Strauss has said you'd be a good fit… that's about as high a compliment you can receive from someone like her."

"Thanks, Prentess," Siobhán let out a laugh which made Emily jolt back in surprise. "I get de feelin' dat none o' yer really like Erin dat much."

Morgan cracked a smile then, "It's administrative-related," he told her, chuckling.

"Oh," her Irish cadence rippled through the SUV which caused both Morgan and Emily to glance at her again, each wearing a small smile of their own (even though Emily would never admit it to herself). "A desk warmer who pokes deir oar in ahn de fieldwork..." Siobhán flashed a grin at them both and ran a hand through her hair, glancing back out of the windscreen again. "Dahn't wahrry, we all 'ave those we wahrk wit."

"Quinn," Morgan called out to the redhead, the use of her surname enough to gain her attention instantly as her head swooped around in intrigue. "I've got one bit of advice for you about the bureau…" he said as he shot her cheeky grin over his shoulder before adding with a wiggle of his brows, "Don't knock it 'til you try it."

Siobhán smirked widely and gave a chuckle, "We'll see, boyo," she mused, her voice equally as soft.

Hearing her quick banter back and forth with Morgan had a smile tugging at Emily's lips from where she sat quietly in the back, glancing between the pair of them that had her almost believing that Siobhán had been a part of the team for years - soft words and natural laughs - with how she and Morgan had grown to be fast friends in almost no time at all.

Despite herself and her first impression of Siobhán, Emily begrudged herself for thinking that it would really be such a bad thing if Siobhán stuck around.

---

2009. QUIET HILLS PARK, ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND - VA

SIOBHÁN QUINN

...

From behind the steering wheel beside her, Morgan was humming a tune she couldn't quite make out despite being sat mere inches from him - either it was completely unfamiliar to her or he was just so terrible at humming in general, she wasn't sure (although, the latter made the most sense).

Siobhán allowed herself a small smile when she saw his fingers begin to drum against the leather rhythmically as he pulled off from a red light.

One thing was abundantly clear - Derek Morgan was a flirt and he wasn't oblivious to it either, knowing that he was fully aware of how attractive he was. Something we have in common... It wasn't that Siobhán was obnoxious in any way or conceited - she just knew she was appealing enough to know that it was true and was also convinced that Morgan shared the same outlook.

She would never admit it aloud but knowing it made it abundantly clear that it was a defence mechanism - no room for physical insecurities so instead, it was worn as armour.

If Morgan's muscular statue and defined torso were anything to go on, her immediate conjecture was that he was, undoubtedly, a womanizer. The shirt he was wearing teased everything below - it constricted his powerful arms, stretching across his stocky shoulders and around his thick neck. If he didn't want attention, he was definitely going about it the wrong way.

Her eyes took in his face slowly and she allowed herself a simper of a smile - his thickly arched eyebrows framed warm umber eyes that were easy to get lost in, his chiseled and off-center nose (which she assumed had been broken several times) stooped down his face to meet his thin lips that were (in the short time she had known him) barely capable in masking his grin with his intricately stubble-covered, anvil-like jaw.

Siobhán found herself frowning.

She had yet to pass any solid judgments on all of Aaron Hotchner's team although she found she always enjoyed Aaron despite the minimal interactions they had shared - primarily for his phlegmatic requisite but also because she had somehow managed to worm her way into that stony exterior of his in those few interactions and she couldn't help but wonder how easily he could be influenced if she applied enough pressure...

Her eyes slid away from Morgan eventually as she settled back into her seat, deciding that she would have to develop a labyrinthine, involute facade to keep them all at arm's length and from getting too close to things they didn't need to know.

Make sure who you decide to be for them is solid, there's no room for any mishaps.

It would take time to rebuild her mental walls and construct her defence mechanisms with completely formidable and byzantine details that would project everything she wanted to be onto them.

Despite what hesitant reservations she held over his team upon meeting them at the bureau, she knew that (almost immediately) she would have to get them all on her side pretty quickly and from what she could ascertain, Morgan was the key to succeeding at that -

He seemed to hold all the integral relationships within the team that would help her, so naturally to influence him was to also influence the others; often he was partnered with Prentiss on cases, he governed a flirtationship with Penelope Garcia, and had built a brotherly love with Reid... which left everyone else to Aaron (for which, she was adamant, would be even easier than originally planned).

If she did relent to Strauss, she knew she would have to tread carefully - would have to be impeccable in all she did - the last thing she needed was for them to think any differently of her. It would ruin everything.

But he— they will…

Siobhán glanced over at Morgan cautiously again as he continued to idly drum his fingers on the steering wheel before looking to his right and flashing her a broad grin of his brilliant polar teeth. So, it was decided...

Make sure you become Derek Morgan's best friend (everything else will come naturally).

Siobhán figured it was achievable enough - she would have to adapt and match who Derek Morgan was and appeal to all of his natural traits which she doubted would be as hard as it initially seemed seeing as they shared a number already... The only one she remained apprehensive over was Prentiss - the woman had been outwardly bold in her challenge towards her and evidently opposed her presence in the bureau if her behaviour on the journey they'd been forced to share was anything to go by.

A part of her wondered if Emily remembered. No... She almost shook her head at the thought - of course, she didn't.

In the back, Prentiss had fallen into an edgy silence with her milky palm folded neatly under her chin as she stared out of the window.

Siobhán wasn't too sure about her yet to ascertain the best route of action to take; she knew the agent was suspicious of her and the motives fuelled by Strauss - it made her uneasy and meant she had to be careful (perhaps, even more than she normally was). She was also aware that Prentiss would have an influence over the likes of Jareau (was it?) and Reid so, she acknowledged there was a potential issue there that would need to be avoided.

Did Prentiss recognise her? No, you never met - remember? Siobhán sighed at herself for her own harrying thoughts, right. But why did Prentiss look at her with such an uncomfortable aura of familiarity? She doubted she would ever find that out either but she couldn't deny the unease it set alight within her: mental note - try extra hard with Emily Prentiss (the woman is going to be hardwork).

"Well, ladies…" Morgan trailed off as he pulled Siobhán from her reverie, manoeuvring the SUV to pull up smoothly alongside the curb. "Judgin' by the hazmats everywhere..." he unclipped his seatbelt before pushing open his door, throwing the pair of them a teasing look over his shoulder as he reached for the copy of the file. "I would guess we're here."

Following suit, Prentiss clambered out from the back and scoffed. "Brilliant profiling as always, Morgan," she chuckled with a roll of her eyes.

"What can I say? I surprise myself."

Siobhán smoothed out the lapels of her blazer as she stepped around the SUV and set her hand on the bonnet. "Even if it is de ahbvious," Siobhán poked as she slowed to stand beside Prentiss, leaning in closer and lowering her voice.

Prentiss laughed again, more in earnest that time (Siobhán made another mental note of that).

"Woah!" Both women arched their brows when they looked over at Morgan who was pretending, quite poorly, to be offended by the commentary he was being given - he stood with his arms raised at an incline. "Is it ridicule Morgan day or somethin'?" he glanced between the pair of them before his gaze settled fully on Prentiss and he smirked: "It's not my fault if your date got interrupted, is it?" he goaded with a wiggle of his brows.

Siobhán didn't miss the disconcerting noise that rose in Prentiss's throat at the comment. "It wasn't a date," she ground out as a reminder through gritted teeth.

Up until then, Siobhán hadn't looked at Prentiss (as in really looked at her) because she had been consciously putting all her effort into Morgan so when her eyes finally relinquish to take in the raven-haired agent, she would be lying if she refused to acknowledge the unsettling way her breath caught in the back of her throat.

Despite the artless opposition the other woman had openly opted for, Siobhán willingly admitted to herself that Prentiss was more than forgiven for purely (or rather, shamelessly) being easy on the eyes.

Her hourglass figure was hard to not cast her eyes over - her curved hips, narrowed slightly at the waist, left little to the imagination beneath her slack-clad toned legs. Siobhán's brow quirked at the sway of her hips as she moved. Allowing her eyes to trail downwards, she felt a slight smile tug at her lips as she followed the crescent of her arse all the way down to the arch of her calves. Maneater.

Unlike herself, Prentiss wore block-heeled boots that were entirely the opposite of her own immoderate heels and were altogether modest and annoyingly sensible.

Watching her as she continued to move around the SUV, Siobhán brought her gaze up gradually to take in the slender torso that was enveloped in a rich jade green shirt with her sloped shoulders blanketed in a simple sable blazer to conceal (what Siobhán guessed) her toned arms from view. Siobhán almost huffed.

She didn't miss that all her nails were bitten down to their beds, to the point it looked painful... must be stress related, she decided with an idle tilt of her head as she took in the redness of Prentiss's distal phalanges.

Following her companions as they started off towards the scene, she soon found herself looking at Prentiss again. Was your previous act of voyeurism not enough? Siobhán rolled her eyes at the thought, knowing that as much as she would try to convince herself she was on her best behaviour, she had to allow herself some amusement. Obviously not.

Her eyes ghosted over the woman's chest fleetingly, taking in the tangible swell of her breasts before ascending up her long, swan-like neck to zero in on the woman's soft heart-shaped jaw that was framed by her lustrous and magnificently thick Stygian mane that bore a perfect shine.

Prentiss's makeup had been delicately applied although it was barely detectable against her wonderfully creamy, flawless skin and- Stop now, she warned herself, knowing her silent observation would be witnessed if she continued as she wanted. You must be tactful.

Despite herself, she persisted.

Eyes swimming over her pinkish curved, full lips they then easily swept up her elegantly straight nose to take in her angular eyebrows that so reactive.

Her eyes were what stilled Siobhán's assessment - round and expressive, Siobhán felt herself stumble on the evidently soft but fearlessness of her cedar gaze, flashing alight with copper flecks that were... looking at her?

Ordinarily, if embarrassment and feeling sheepish was an emotion Siobhán was familiar with, she may have blushed out of the sheer mortification of being caught blatantly staring when she shouldn't have been but even she knew she had enough insolence to say otherwise - that didn't mean she didn't feel a faint flutter of annoyance when those eyes struck hers. Ah, shit... she twisted her signet ring on her left little finger and hummed. So much for being tactful, Siobhán internally admonished, choosing to send Prentiss a smirk (of all things) before she finally glanced away.

Prentiss took a sharp intake of breath from where she stood a few feet away from her before her voice was reaching her ears: "Everything alright, Quinn?" the other agent pressed, almost sounding as though she was fighting to keep her tone even to which, Siobhán would be lying to herself if she refused to concede to the odd sensation of fire stir in her stomach in response.

Give a slow shake of her, the redhead allowed another almost imperceptible smirk to grace her lips. "Dahn't mind me," responded Siobhán dryly, hoping the response was enough to push Prentiss to some form of indignation by her very open appraisal of her. "I'm naht 'ere," she added with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

Siobhán found herself impressed when Prentiss held her eyes firmly, her cedar orbs flashing with conflicted irritability which only made Siobhán's smirk widen, her eyebrows raising in question at the other women.

Prentiss looked as though she was about to reply when Morgan was interrupting whatever had just transpired between the pair of them: "Why the cold shoulder, Prentiss?" he clamped a Herculean arm around the raven-haired agent's shoulder to pull her playfully towards his chest.

Batting him away with a slap of her hand, Prentiss glowered: "Morgan, I actually hate you."

Flashing a toothy grin, Morgan pressed his lips to her forehead. "You wish you did," he let out a laugh, squeezing her arm gently.

Siobhán was pulled from her voyeurism when a ding rose into the air followed by a subsequent vibration in her trouser pocket. Reaching into it, she withdrew her mobile and grimaced when she saw the notification flashing across the screen in bold lettering.

Rolling her eyes, she unlocked the device and clicked on the message.

Erin Strauss: Once the case is wrapped up, we need to get together with Aaron. I won't let you leave without giving me an answer.

Siobhán's brown furrowed as she read the words again. One thing she prided herself on was not being an idiot - if Strauss thought she could bully her into getting what she wanted, then she was sorely -

Ding!

A second message trilled through and soon enough, Siobhán let out a humourless grunt at its content.

Erin Strauss: And it will be the one I want.

She bit her lip, closing her eyes against the sudden unprecedented vexation that was threatening to spill from her as her hand tighten around the mobile in her hand. "De gall o' de wahman..." she murmured through a clenched jaw, wondering if the woman had gone as far as she feared she had and had contacted the Interpol office.

Suddenly becoming aware of the immediate silence from her companions, Siobhán looked upwards and her jaw slackened when she saw both Morgan and Prentiss staring at her in intrigue. "It's nahthin'," Siobhán griped, trying to brush it off and not let Strauss get to her but also not liking the feeling of two pairs of eyes on her as she slipped her mobile away again.

Morgan arched a brow at her, "Y'ready, Quinn?"

Siobhán's eyes widened in confusion before she registered what the pair were waiting for her. "Sure," she gave a firm nod of her head, internally cursing Erin Strauss for her audacity.

The three of them advanced further into the park, taking in their surroundings and the subsequent abandonment void of people that would naturally be basking in groups but instead, was now suffering a quarantine to ensure it would be safe and no one else would be harmed. Eventually, they reached a man loitering closest to them in a hazmat suit, obviously waiting to greet them upon their arrival.

"So... what's de craic, den?" the redhead pressed, with a raised eyebrow as she came to stop in front of the man whose head practically snapped in her direction.

The idiot in the hazmat looked at her as though she had sprouted two additional heads to become a Gorgon. "Excuse me?" he bit out eventually, glancing between the three of them for clarification on what he was being asked.

Siobhán blinked slowly, tilting her head in impatience before glancing over her to look at Morgan. "Am I speakin' a defferent language?" she queried for clarity which roused a loud snort from the man next to her as he patted her shoulder in feigned sympathy.

Sighing at the pair of them, Siobhán didn't miss the look Prentiss sent them as she stood forward with a slight scowl pulled across her features. "How are you dealing with the public? What are you telling people about why the park is closed?" she quizzed, casting her gaze around the other hazmats scouting the park around them as they lingered awkwardly.

"Methane buildup in the sewage system," the idiot affirmed, his eyes nervously flitting over to where Siobhán was stood before going back to Prentiss.

Siobhán scoffed, "'cause dat's believable."

"Oh, well, yeah, of course, why wouldn't they?" Prentiss pulled back in surprise, blinking in slow realisation as she looked over at Siobhán and Morgan.

"The hot zone and all surrounding areas have been neutralized," the idiot explained, gesturing to the space around them. "You're safe here."

"Are you sure about that?" Prentiss challenged back and crossed her arms over her chest from where she was stood which made Morgan raise an eyebrow in surprise at her tone.

"Yes, ma'am."

Siobhán chuckled in disbelief although it was more of a reaction to how Prentiss blanched at being referred to as ma'am which Siobhán guessed made her feel old more than anything. "Fair play," she acknowledged, her eyes ghosting over the raven-haired agent again and her lips eventually twisted into another smirk. Emily Prentiss is most definitely not old, but she wouldn't bestow her the kindness of telling her that.

Offering a tight-lipped smile, Morgan shook the idiot's hand. "Thanks," Morgan nodded as the idiot turned and quickly walked away from them which allowed them to consequently wander further into the park. Flipping open the file in his hand, Morgan frowned. "Okay, check it out... high levels tested over there." He gestured vaguely towards the main road.

Prentiss kept her arms crossed indignantly as she turned on the spot, "That's probably where the UnSub released the attack," she reasoned with a soft shrug, staring as Siobhán strolled off in the direction of the main road, frowning.

"And there was a prevailin' wind out of the northeast yesterday," Morgan gestured from the road to the park, "Airborne spores scattered that way, hittin' everyone below it..."

The redhead looked over her shoulder at them as she pondered, balancing as she walked along the edge of the main road's curb. "Nature doin' de dirty wahrk fahr yer," Siobhán huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from her face.

Siobhán narrowed her gaze at what she thought was a faint smile crossing Prentiss's lips at her commentary and the brunette's eyes found hers almost immediately, Siobhán half expected her to look away but she held her gaze firmly for a few moments. Clearing her throat, Prentiss finally glanced away and sighed: "This park doesn't scream target to me."

"Just like you don't scream princess to me but y'know..." Morgan chimed in, his voice full of sarcasm as he taunted Prentiss, "Tomayto, tomahto..."

Prentiss cocked an eyebrow, "Wow."

"Not nice when it's on the other foot, is it?" Morgan quipped, trying to keep from chuckling.

Prentiss looked over at Morgan in exasperation before letting her eyes flicker over at where Siobhán was, a faint flush rising onto her cheeks in her apparent frustration. "You're such an idiot," Prentiss exhaled deeply with another eye roll, "I feel sorry for all the women that get preyed on by you."

Siobhán glanced between the pair of them and wondered if the banter she had been witnessing was normal or just a show for her but from what she could gauge, she was confident of their friendship, and that made her all the more adamant to worm her way into Morgan's circle.

"Terrahrests usually target symbols dat we've seen befahre..." Siobhán started, folding her arms across her chest delicately as she started to pace. "... de White 'ouse, de Pentagon, de World Trade Centres..." she hesitated, drumming her hands over her elbows before looking over at the other pair and pausing. "What I mean is, it's a nice park boeht it's naht necessarily a symbahl."

Prentiss looked over at her in momentary confusion. "Okay, so, maybe it's symbolic for the UnSub," she suggested lightly, watching Siobhán as the redhead sauntered back over to where they were stood, a thoughtful look pulling across her brow before she stooped close to where Prentiss was stood.

Siobhán stared at the ground momentarily, biting her lip hard, then she locked eyes with Prentiss again as she decided what was seemingly the best route to go with the agent... if I flirt with her, what position does that force her into? I have no shame but Emily has a lot she's hiding.

Inhaling, the redhead smiled slightly when she caught the faint floral scent coming from the other agent. Tucking a faint strand of hair behind her ear again, Siobhán had met her eyes steadily, challenging her. "I 'eard yer say dat earlier… UnSub?" she questioned slowly, watching the other woman shift on her feet under her gaze.

"Unknown subject," Prentiss corrected almost breathlessly, sounding as though she had struggled to turn her thoughts into words.

Siobhán nodded, stepping away from Prentiss with a smile, and found she enjoyed the look of mild apprehension that crossed the brunette's face when she got a bit too close to her. "Gaht it," she affirmed, smiling softly when she saw her breath tease the other woman's face before she turned away again to continue with her pacing of the park.

The faint blush returned to her cheeks but luckily for Prentiss, Morgan wasn't paying her any mind.

Smirking, Siobhán found it all too amusing with how flustered Prentiss seemed by how her personal space had been intruded upon, her eyes following Siobhán as she moved to lean over Morgan's shoulder and look at the file he held.

"Well, we know Kaczynski sent bombs to Berkeley where he taught, Michigan where he went to school, and Chicago where he lived..."

Looking up at the other woman again through her lashes, Siobhán smiled when she saw the evident uneasiness flash across Prentiss's face and soon enough, she was running a hand through her hair, stepping away from the pair of them and sighed. "And the Amerithrax suspect sent letters to two pro-choice senators whose politics he opposed," the brunette woman explained.

"They can't help attachin' a personal motive to the places they've targeted."

"Alright..." Prentiss frowned slightly, moving further into the park as she looked around steadily and Siobhán knew she was actively trying to avoid her eyes as she did so. "So, what does this place mean to our UnSub?"

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, the redhead clasped her hands together. "What'd yer do at de park?" Siobhán called over to them quickly, before scrunching her nose up and slowly allowing her gaze to fall upon Prentiss once more.

The other woman didn't look at her.

"God, I don't know..." Morgan turned on the spot, scratching in chin in thought as he pulled their attention to him. "Go for a run?"

"Is that the best you can think of?" Prentiss questioned skeptically, obviously having expected more from Morgan as Siobhán had given his player status that so often oozed from him.

"Ahkay, steckin' wit symbahls..." Siobhán spoke slowly as she tried to choose her words carefully, frowning as she glanced around herself at all the greenery. She rolled her lip in her teeth as she paused to think for a couple of seconds, "We're assuming dis place is sentimental, yeah? Who wooehld yer normally go to de park wit?"

Giving a shrug of his shoulders, Morgan arched a brow as he considered the question for a couple of seconds which made Siobhán wonder if it was really that hard. "If I was in college, I'd go with my friends... play some soccer, football or hang out..." he trailed off, throwing his hands up into the air as he turned to face the both of them expectantly.

The redhead stared, slowly registering his words and she knew he had obviously been a football god when he was in education. The assumption made her roll her eyes playfully before she cast her gaze in the brunette's direction again to see what she had to offer.

"If you're a parent, you'd take your child. You'd go on dates with your boyfriend..." Prentiss trailed off slowly as though she was stuck on the words. "Although, I'd never understand why anyone would go to a park on a date," she ground out as an afterthought, the words coming out bitterly which roused another chuckle from Morgan.

"Maybe people aren't as cold-hearted as you and they don't melt in the sun, Prentiss."

Prentiss snorted in response and shook her head, "Hilarious," she muttered under her breath, but it was loud enough for Morgan to hear although he seemed less than bothered by her reaction.

Although Prentiss hadn't given much of herself away to Siobhán - the more Morgan teased her, the more she found she was learning about the woman just by her mere reactions to what was being said and what he was teasing her over.

Emily Prentiss was obviously insanely private and lacked trust in her team.

All she had to do was chip away at her... if, if, she relented to Strauss's wishes.

Siobhán wheeled around on her feet and nodded, bringing her palms together to press them to the underside of her chin. "So, we've narrowed it down to one o' dose three wethin de criteria. We can guess a child's been lost o' taken away, a friendship group 'as broken down, ahr a relationship 'as gone sour..." she contemplated, mulling over the words carefully "That wooehld be de mahtive fahr dis lahcation."

Morgan frowned slightly, "Otherwise, we got nothin'..."

"What makes you say that?" Prentiss rebuked, attempting to steady her tone as she continued to hold onto her gaze firmly, the copper flecks of her eyes boring into her.

Siobhán looked up at Morgan and lifted a brow, finding that she silently agreed with Prentiss. "Boeht we can wahrk dis into a preliminary prahfile oehntil we find ooeht mahre... tit fahr tat 'nd all." Once she concluded, Siobhán inclined her head in Prentiss's direction and saw her visibly relax as though she had been awaiting some unknown affirmation to be made.

Prentiss relaxed the breath she had been holding in, "Okay, so retribution is our UnSub's motive..."

Morgan closed the file, nodding in agreement. "We can work with that."

"I'd say so," Siobhán gave a firm bob of her head, shoving her hands into the trouser pockets as she continued to idly pace. "Dey want to get back at de wahrld fahr 'avin wrahnged dem 'nd what better way to do it dan by releasin' a strain o' deadly bacteria?"

A momentary silence settled among the three of them as they concluded their discussion, knowing that until another attack took place, it would be incredibly hard to determine the UnSub's intention and more importantly, who they were.

Siobhán frowned, capturing Prentiss's gaze once again and she felt herself being lulled into dangerous thoughts... is this how Ian felt?

"Spitfire," Morgan announced and Siobhán, along with her own, saw Prentiss's head turn to face the man amongst them with a confused expression on her face. In all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt by the use of the nickname (or pet name, her mind suggested) but if it attributed to getting Morgan onboard with, she found she didn't really mind it. She tilted her head for him to continue, finding she couldn't help but smirk when Morgan grinned widely at her. "You're stayin' around for more than just this case, right?"

The redhead gave a playful shrug of her shoulders, knowing that she brunette was watching her and each of her movements as she started towards Morgan. "I'm exceedin' yer expectations, I can tell..." she smirked knowingly, patting his shoulder affectionately. "Ahr dey really moehst be dat low."

He chuckled, "Damn... I like you, Quinn."

Siobhán gave Morgan a smug grin, "Wait oehntil yer see me poehll game." Looking away from Morgan, she saw Prentiss roll her eyes at her words and she struggled to not let her grin fall at the obvious disapproval. More so, why was she bothered by it?

She would be as she had always been - confident, assertive and divine - no matter how much whoever she crossed paths with disapproved.

Her words had Morgan howling in laughter, "I can't wait for this case to be over!" He clamped a heavy arm around her shoulder as he grinned, practically dragging her back towards the SUV, beginning to ramble about his nights out on the town and his honeys and how she would be his partner in crime... but she still found the only thing she was able to concentrate on was Emily Prentiss and all that she was hiding.

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Chapter II Preview:

As the BAU seek to wrap up their latest case, our newcomer starts to form bonds amongst the team which leaves a certain raven-haired agent with her nose out of joint, leaving none other than Rossi to put her back in her place.