David Rossi - Blog Posts

Incorrect Ducktales Quotes #4 w/ ‘17 Dickie(OC), Scrooge, Morgana(OC), & Drake

Scrooge accidentally overhears Dickie come out, and wants to do something special for her. He comes back to the mansion after doing errands and presents his gifts to Dickie.

Scrooge: I just went to Target to buy these-

Dickie: [confused] The heck is that? Why did you buy these?

Scrooge: Because I support the LGBTQ and the other alphabets.

————————————-

This was before Morgana met Launchpad and Gosalyn.

Drake and Morgana are walking to an important S.H.U.S.H meeting, yet the latter notices something is wrong. The mallard vaguely confides about a romantic moment he had with someone (Launchpad) while riding the Ratcatcher. Morgana tries encouraging her friend to go for it.

Drake: I don’t know.

Morgana: Is he cute?

Drake: Yes he is, but I need to focus on my training. I don’t need to be distracted.

Morgana: Yes you should be distracted. Distracted is good. What’s his name?

Drake: Launchpad

Morgana: I like it. And, you know what they say about riding a bike.

Fenton: Who’s getting a bike?

Drake: Nobody.

I NEED MORE

At Cross Purposes

Sequel to These Fleeting Moments

Relationships: Hotch & Male BAU Reader, BAU Team & Male Reader Content: Fluff, Alcohol, Angst, Slight non-violent homophobia, Injury, blood, bouts of panic Word Count: 13,313 (The rest of the team wanted time with you, too. Idk how this happened. Just take it and enjoy lol) Summary: Reader and Hotch try to make good on their unspoken agreement to stop shutting out the rest of the team. A night out at the bar should be simple enough, right? Note: "---" in place of reader's name Oh, boy... Things are shifting. I try hard, but there are probably still some spelling mistakes that slipped by. Important: It takes so little time to reblog! It lets me know you really enjoyed and I appreciate it so much! :) I probably will not post the next in this series unless the amount of reblogs, with or without comments, on this are at least equal to the number of likes (though I'd prefer it to be greater). Divider by @cafekitsune

Sometimes it seemed like no matter what they did, they couldn’t help but profile in every situation they found themselves in. At the coffee shop when a woman received five texts in a row and then ordered another coffee. Or when a man at the bus stop kept glancing down the wrong end of the street and pulled at his hood nervously.

Other times, profiling skills took the day off.

The Behavioral Analysis Unit is a team of some the most perceptive, well trained minds around. They had the ability to look at a person and gather an almost scary amount of information about them in mere seconds. They were truly amazing.

They were also some of the densest people on the planet.

Morgan and Prentiss’s cackling could be heard from almost any part of the floor. Normally, you’d tell them to shut it after too long but today you didn’t mind so much. You looked up from the papers on your desk and shook your head at them with a suppressed grin. The pen in your grasp rolled back and forth between your fingers. You were well aware of how bad you had allowed yourself to get recently.

Fortunately, three days ago, your impulsive tongue had taken the plunge for you when you suggested something you normally never would. The barricade you had erected around yourself began to break down after you spent part of the night in Hotch’s office.

The words on the paper blurred together. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand as you tried not to think too hard about what happened that night. The two of you hadn’t talked about it since.

The day afterward, you had greeted each other pleasantly and Hotch had given you a knowing smirk when you both had made a beeline for the coffee machine to pour yourselves a large, black serving. Other than that brief moment, he hadn’t acknowledged or brought it up again. You assumed it was something that would be kept private, contained to that night alone. You both had dearly needed that night but at times, the memories of it would make your gaze grow unfocused or your chest tingle.

Your knee pressed against Hotch’s.

The pen creaked in your grasp.

Him clutching you just as fiercely as you did him.

“Oh, god, you’re such a pig!” Prentiss’s laugh cut through the trance.

You shook your head vigorously and blinked your way back to reality, the air from the vents overhead hitting the back of your neck. You realized you had scribbled several erratic lines across the paper, effectively ruining it. Sighing, you folded it, tossed it into the small bin at your feet, and grabbed a fresh one.

“Hey, ---!” Morgan called.

Abandoning hope at finishing this paper any time soon, you leaned back in your chair and turned to look at the other man.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, already not liking the devilish look he was wearing.

“Okay,” Morgan began, leaning in your direction, “If a girl was talkin' you up all sweet-like and then you buy her a drink, wouldn't you –”

Prentiss cut him off with a laugh.

“Oh, come on! You're clearly setting him up to agree with you!” she shook her head, throwing her hands out to the sides.

“What?” he said innocently, “I'm just asking his opinion!”

“My opinion,” you said with a smirk, “is that you're insufferable.”

Prentiss leaned over and presented her fist. You bumped it with your own as Morgan sputtered in indignation.

“Are you serious?” he looked at you as if you just insulted his mother.

“I agree,” Reid mumbled from his own desk.

“Stay out of this, pretty boy!” Morgan jabbed his finger in Reid's direction, “I'm only asking people that actually go out to places.”

Reid's brow furrowed as he glanced over at the other two before turning back to Morgan.

“I think I'd rather stay home than go out and watch you try to force women into talking to you,” Reid muttered, a sly smirk playing at his lips.

Morgan actually rose from his chair to gape at the group of three that were turning on him. Despite yourself, you laughed along with them.

“Excuse me? I don't force women to do anything! Don't go spreading rumors!” Morgan waved his hands at everyone as if he could physically stop their words from traveling through the air.

“Alright, okay,” you held your own hands up placatingly, “Sure. But if you buy a woman a drink she didn't ask for, that's your choice, man. You’re not indebting her. She doesn't need to talk to you at all if she doesn't want to.”

Prentiss gave a mighty groan, her hands reaching toward the heavens.

“Yes! I knew there was at least one sane man on this team!” she exclaimed, actually standing to come and give you a quick squeeze.

You laughed in surprise as she wrapped her arms around you from behind, nuzzling her cheek against the side of your head.

“What about me?” Reid asked, the beginnings of hurt in his tone, as she released you. She gave another small chuckle and winked at him.

“Well, of course,” she smiled.

“And me?” a voice came from behind.

Everyone turned to see Hotch approaching, his gaze flitting over Prentiss’s hand still lingering on your shoulder. Prentiss rushed back to her desk in the same instant that Morgan sat back down and Reid ducked his head, once again focused on his own work.

You cursed internally, wondering how much he had heard and how irritated he might be that you all had taken an extended break.

He paused near the desks and peered at Prentiss expectantly.

“Well, I – Yeah, of– of course,” she stammered, glancing at the rest of the group for help.

Hotch's lips quirked into the faintest of smiles as he passed by, handing something to Anderson.

“That was reassuring,” he deadpanned, moving past them and back toward his office.

A collective weight lifted from everyone’s shoulders as they realized Hotch wasn’t about to reprimand them about staying on track.

“Hotch, come on. Back me up, here, man!” Morgan called out with a grin, “They’re calling me a dog!”

Hotch gave a little huff of a laugh that had you mirroring his soft smile. He paused for a moment, considering his response before he continued on his path.

“How about you prove them wrong? Tonight.” Hotch said, glancing back as he walked toward the steps.

“What, go out?” Morgan sat up, excitement brewing in his eyes, “All of us?”

Hotch raised his eyebrows with a fleeting smirk.

“It is Friday,” he proposed.

Morgan's face broke into a grin akin to a child promised ice cream for dinner.

“Oh, yes!” he clapped, “Hell yeah, man!”

He laughed as though already having won his honor.

“I better see you all later!” he said, point at each of you in turn, “I heard about a new place we can go light up.”

You hardly looked at Morgan and his excited antics because Hotch caught your eye as he ascended the steps and gave you a little nod that seemed more pointed than not. There it was. The challenge. I’ll go if you will.

You gave him the most minuscule tip of the head before he turned away and returned to his office.

Reid gave a pinched frown. You suspected the only reason he would go was because it was basically a direct order from Hotch. That made two of you.

Prentiss was already bickering with Morgan again, saying something about rules and etiquette.

“You okay?”

You turned toward Reid to see him watching you with concern. You hadn’t realized your new paper was crumpled in your clenched fingers. You were not helping the environment today.

“Uh, yeah,” you said quickly, grabbing a new paper, “I just, uh, kinda don't want to go out, honestly.”

Reid's expression opened up again, his eyes widening, as he leaned toward you to whisper.

“You think we can fake an emergency together? Say we got a flat tire on the way there?” he gave a little grin, “Then we can watch my new DVD, it’s a nature documentary on bioluminescent sea creatures!”

“That sounds like a really good backup plan,” you murmured with a smile.

Both men nodded at each other conspiratorially before turning back to their respective paperwork. You had only been able to fill out around half the page before Morgan caught JJ’s attention as she walked by, headed toward Hotch’s office.

“Tonight, all of us!” he mimed downing a shot and made an exaggerated dance move in his seat.

She laughed at the ridiculous sight.

“Yeah?” she asked, glancing over at you, “Even you?”

Your fingers halted in their writing for a moment, nerves flaring for just a split second as you heard the disbelief in her tone.

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” you huffed a bit sheepishly, running a hand through your hair.

JJ’s eyes sparkled with delight at your confirmation.

“But you all just went out the other day,” you glanced between everyone in disbelief, “How are you already down to go again?”

Prentiss scoffed at the same time as JJ let out a wry laugh, holding up the stack of paperwork she was taking to Hotch.

“Easy,” Prentiss shook her head in a long-suffering manner.

“Yeah,” JJ agreed as she began to ascend the steps, “Alright, I’ll let Garcia and Rossi know, too.”

Morgan gave her a thumbs up.

As the day waned, you found yourself able to concentrate less and less. The ticking of the clock pummeled against your eardrums. The scratching of your pen grated on your skin.

Finishing the last of your paperwork, you shoved it on top of the rather impressive stack. A sigh heaved from your gut as you leaned back in your chair, stretching your neck and groaning softly when the joint popped.

“Hey,” an unsubtle whisper sounded your way.

You shifted to look at Morgan, his eyes glinting as he tapped his watch.

“Wanna make a bet for later?” he asked.

Saying nothing, you merely quirked an eyebrow at him.

“First one to get a girl’s number, wins,” he proposed.

You let your head fall forward into your hands, an incredulous laugh bubbling from your throat.

“Oh, my god,” you groaned.

Prentiss stood with a shake of the head, jabbing her thumb at the other man.

“You see?” she scoffed, but her gaze held mirth in it all the same.

You nodded sympathetically at her with a smirk playing at your lips.

“What?” Morgan spread his arms innocently.

Reid joined in on the laughter that erupted from the group.

In the office above, a soft chuckle was emitted at the sounds that were coming from the desks in the bullpen.

The drive home was just what you needed to clear your head of any lingering reservations. You had offered Reid a ride, still considering the flat tire plan earnestly. He had laughed when you brought it up, saying it wasn’t too late.

“No, it’s alright,” he had waved the offer away, then gave a sneaky smirk and leaned a little closer, “Besides, I kinda wanna see Morgan crash and burn.”

You stopped at a light and a little laugh came from you at the memory.

Morgan had given everyone the address of a new place that had just opened a couple months ago. No one had been to it yet, so everyone agreed to go together for the first time. Prentiss had claimed if she found out Morgan had frequented the place before, she would immediately call an end to his trial and he could never redeem his honorable name. Morgan had crossed his heart that he hadn’t stepped foot in the place.

You arrived at your home and briefly entertained the idea of simply not going. You could tell them tomorrow that you had fallen asleep early. You shook your head at yourself as you slid the key in the lock and entered, dropping your bag into its spot behind the door.

Hotch would see straight through your lie. And even worse, he would know the reason for it and know that you had immediately failed to keep up your end of the unspoken deal.

Sinking down onto your sofa with a sigh, you let your eyes drift closed for a few minutes. The flat silence pressed against your ears. You shifted, grunting, as the cushions somehow felt harder than when you first bought the damn thing. Thoughts of a much more comfortable sofa floated up in your mind.

Your eyes snapped open and you rushed to go take a shower instead.

The glow of the bluish, purplish light emanated from the open door and cast a colorful stripe onto the pavement outside. Music blared from speakers that were nowhere to be seen. As you approached the building, you pulled out your phone to send Reid a text to see if he was there yet.

Stepping inside and spying the crowd of people laughing and dancing, you were suddenly glad you had chosen your light blue button-up instead of a t-shirt. The dress code here appeared to be smart-casual with a heavier lean toward smart.

Before you had finished typing out the message, you spied two familiar blonde heads of hair at a corner table.

“Hey! Over here!” JJ spotted you, and yelled over the music, waving you over.

She had changed into a loose, silky looking, dark blue button-up of her own.

A smile broke across your face as you watched Garcia whip around in her seat. You hadn’t even made it halfway over yet when she shot up and the rapid click-clack of her heels rang out as she ran toward you.

Her arms wrapped around your torso, and all the oxygen was squeezed from your body for a moment. A squeal of delight hit your ears. The brief shock of being enveloped in a hug rendered you still. The last one had been –

“You’re here! You’re really here!” Garcia chanted.

You finally hugged her back with a laugh that only her specific joy could produce from you. JJ made her way over to where you stood, wrapped in her embrace.

“Yeah, I know,” you said as you released each other, “I can’t believe it either.”

Garcia’s dark, shimmery dress matched her eye makeup perfectly.

“And, oh, gosh, you smell so good,” Garcia muttered, leaning in close to get another sniff.

You leaned away with a slightly embarrassed huff.

“Okay, how much has she had already?” you said to JJ out of the corner of your mouth.

JJ had been watching the exchange with a growing grin, hands resting on her hips.

“Um…” she scratched her head, “I think she’s at four shots now?”

You turned back to Garcia, mouth open. She grabbed your arm and draped it around her shoulders with a slight pout.

“What?” she tried her best to look sober, “It’s the weekend! And you’re here, you’re actually here!”

She shook your arm and bounced on the spot as she elongated the last word. Another laugh rang out from your lips.

“I’m so happy! We can dance and have fun. Ooh, and do more shots,” Garcia began to ramble, “Oh, and I can’t wait ‘til Hotch shows up, too, and you both can be happy again and I’ll get–”

JJ cleared her throat loudly, cutting off Garcia’s chatter with a stiff head-shake. Garcia’s eyes went wide as her hand flew to her mouth and she snapped her gaze back to yours. You desperately hoped that you didn’t look as chagrined as you felt.

“I mean – Um, not that you’re not happy now. Maybe you could be happier, but hey, we can all be happier, right –?”

JJ rubbed at her eyes. You tightened your arm around Garcia’s shoulders briefly, bringing her words to a halt.

“It’s alright,” you murmured, not quite meeting her eyes.

“Uh, how about you get me that famous drink you told me about before?” you switched gears.

Garcia lit up, her smile returning full force.

“Yes,” she nodded, already clacking away toward the bar, “Yes, that I can do.”

JJ shared a fond look with you before you followed her back to the table a few paces away. You slid into a seat adjacent to her, while keeping an eye on Garcia. You hoped she wouldn't topple over in her haste.

“She probably shouldn’t have any more,” you said, a smile pulling at your lips as you watched Garcia gesturing emphatically to the dark-haired woman behind the bar.

“At least not until everyone else shows up,” you amended.

JJ grinned as she grabbed her own glass of wine. It appeared to be untouched as she most likely didn’t want to drink while Garcia was far more intoxicated than her. Now, she took a proper long sip. You wondered how much her job was taking its toll on her before you shooed the thought of work away like a pesky fly.

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, her voice rather low and you struggled to catch it over the booming beat of the music.

“Where are they, by the way?” you mused as you turned to glance around the place, “I thought I’d be the last one here, for sure.”

“Uh, I know Spence is on his way. And Emily, too,” JJ said, checking her phone, “Not sure about everyone else though.”

You nodded and glanced over at Garcia again, finding the bartender listening to her with slight astonishment. You wondered how much longer it would take for her to get the aforementioned drink. A slight tickle of nerves sprouted in your lower abdomen as the silence stretched on between the two of you at the table.

You clasped your hands together to prevent them from doing something stupid like fidget or, even worse, shake. The music lulled in between rhythms, only providing an even greater silence.

“So,” you began, knowing you ought to say something, “Seen any… good movies lately?”

JJ peered at you, unblinkingly. Her laughter broke through the wall of ice that had been forming around you and you laughed along with her, leaning the chair so far forward that you were in danger of tipping over.

“What are we, on a first date?” JJ asked, wiping at her eyes.

“Apparently,” you responded, still smiling, and shrugged at yourself, “I guess I’m a little out of practice with… this.”

You gestured to everything as a whole. She sobered as you gave your explanation and nodded understandingly.

“Yeah. You been doing okay?” she asked carefully, delicately swirling her wine glass between her fingers.

You fought down a sigh of resignation. Glancing at your watch, you took note of the record timing it had taken until someone asked you how you were doing.

“So, uh, how screwed do you think I am with that drink she’s bringing?” you nodded in Garcia’s direction, the woman in question now making her way back with a very tall glass of bright violet liquid.

JJ looked to Garcia, then back at you, and you held your breath. She graciously allowed the subject to drop as Garcia set the tall glass in front of you with pride.

“There you go, sir!” she said, clapping as she sat down across from you.

“Thank you,” you eyed the radiant drink with blackberries and sprigs of mint on top, “What’s in it?”

Garcia shook her head and made a zipping motion across her lips.

“No can do, baby doll,” she said, “It’s my secret recipe.”

The music’s bumping beat was all that filled the space for a moment as you peered at her, curiosity piqued.

“Wait, you made this?” you asked, surprised.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded with a smile.

JJ gave a laugh, inching a little closer to get a better look at the drink.

“You didn’t tell me that part,” JJ said.

She turned to JJ slowly, eyebrows raised dramatically like an old film star.

“You didn’t ask,” she spoke in a low tone, “There’s a lot you guys don’t know about me.”

JJ shared a look with you, astonished, and you both let out another chuckle.

“Well, go on! Taste it, taste it!” Garcia chanted, practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

You took a tentative sip, waiting for the burn of the alcohol. When nothing came, you glanced up, brows furrowing.

“Uh,” you gave a bit of a nervous laugh, “It just tastes like berries.”

“Yes!” Garcia’s smile widened in delight and she turned to JJ with her hand up.

Eyes squinting in confusion, JJ high-fived her reflexively.

“Am I supposed to taste any alcohol in this?” you questioned, taking a longer sip.

Still no notable taste of any liquor came across your tongue.

“That’s the secret,” Garcia grinned, swaying ever so slightly.

“Maybe it’s a placebo,” JJ smirked at you, taking another sip of her wine.

“It – It certainly is not!” Garcia snapped her gaze to the other woman.

Sensing the shift in her mood, you took another long gulp before speaking up again.

“So what’s it called?” you inquired.

When Garcia focused on you again, her offense ebbed away. You glanced at JJ who gave you a slight toast with her glass. Someone on the dance floor gave a loud whoop that drew everyone’s attention for a moment.

“Huh?” Garcia turned to you again.

“It’s your drink,” you explain, holding up the glass, “You gotta give it a name.”

Garcia bit her bottom lip as her brows drew together.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” she murmured, deep in thought.

You took another pull. You thought perhaps JJ was right after all and there was no alcohol in this whatsoever, until your head suddenly felt a touch lighter.

“How about The Purple Penny…” you uttered, gazing at the drink and then at its creator in slight awe.

Her eyes went wide and her jaw fell open as she gaped at you. For a moment, you thought she was about to yell at you, too. You glanced to JJ apprehensively, who only gave you a tiny shrug.

“Shut up!” Garcia squealed, “I love that!”

Relief coursed through you and you all laughed when she tapped you lightly on each of your shoulders with her straight, outstretched arm, as if knighting you.

“Hey, do we get one of those?” a laugh came from behind you.

You turned to see Prentiss as she approached with Reid, Morgan, and Rossi at her sides, looking like the oddest bunch of security guards ever, all smiling at the scene before them. You tamped down the odd crest of disappointment that rose within you at the absence of the final person of the group.

You stood along with the others to allow them to choose their seats at the table. Morgan hugged Garcia tightly and took the seat beside her, to no one’s surprise. Some of the other patrons nearby glanced at the team, embracing happily as if they hadn’t just seen each other a matter of hours ago, and you wondered what they assumed.

Both Prentiss and Morgan had chosen t-shirts, hers a bold red and his a more subtle burgundy, and they somehow managed to make them look smart and stylish. You glanced down at your own pale blue button-up and briefly wondered if you could have gotten away with a t-shirt of your own. A quick scan of Rossi in his stripey button-up and blazer and Reid in his sweater-vest eased your worries.

Everyone settled, Reid asking Garcia about the bright drink and what gave it the distinct hue. You peeked over your shoulder toward the entrance.

“He’s on his way.”

You jumped, turning back to see Rossi gazing at you rather knowingly. A writhing tendril of flame flared in your gut at the sight and you silently turned back to your drink, missing the worried tilt to Rossi’s mouth.

The bluish light from the dance floor twinkled across the violet liquid in your glass, creating an entrancing kaleidoscope effect. Everyone that just arrived stood to head to the bar for their first round of the night, while JJ accompanied the slightly wobbly Garcia to the bathroom.

“Reid?” Morgan held his hand out questioningly.

“Uh, I’m alright for now, thanks,” Reid nodded, holding up his glass of water, staying firmly planted in his seat.

Morgan shrugged and went to join the others. You turned to look at the door, trying to see past the crowd of people that swayed and jumped with their drinks in hand.

“Hey,” Reid called.

You shifted, meeting his gaze to see his lips twisted in the tiny pout he sometimes made when he was worried.

“You okay?” his gaze flitted down to the table.

You followed it and found that you had shredded the piece of the coaster that poked out from underneath your glass. Brushing your hands off, you nodded, grateful that there was no pity in Reid’s gaze.

“Yeah, man, I’m good,” you said with a quirk of your lips.

“I’m not,” he mumbled, screwing his face up as he looked around skeptically, “What even is this music?!”

You grinned, having had the same thought yourself a bit ago. You glanced up toward the ceiling, trying to find the source of the rumbling bass.

“I don’t think even it knows,” you joked.

Reid’s face shifted to mirror yours and your laughter was able to push past the irritating block that had been building in your throat.

The others returned with their drinks at the same time as JJ and Garcia from the bathroom. JJ and Rossi shared a look when they heard the laughter coming from you and Reid. They all settled back into their seats, enjoying a variety of different drinks. You sipped at your own at little more freely, giggling quietly when Prentiss relayed how Morgan already seemed to be failing at his trial of the night.

Morgan, of course, grew affronted, asking Reid his opinion on the matter. When Reid gave an answer he didn’t like, he turned to Garcia who tried her best to reassure him. The liquid in your glass was almost halfway gone when you saw Rossi’s gaze look behind you with recognition.

“There he is,” Rossi called affectionately, “For once in your life, you’re the last one to arrive.”

You swiveled in your seat to see Hotch approaching with a rather bashful glint in his eye. He had somehow managed to make dressing down look like dressing up. Instead of his usual button-up, tie, and suit ensemble, he wore jeans and a black, short-sleeved polo shirt with a little alligator on it which you assumed meant it was expensive.

“Hey,” he greeted everyone with a smile.

You resisted the sudden urge to stand that briefly overtook you once he reached the table. Morgan stood instead and beckoned Hotch to the bar with him, having drained his glass impossibly quickly and in need of another. Your gaze followed them as they weaved between the ever-moving sea of people.

Reid tapped your shoulder and you looked over to see him watching you expectantly.

“Wait, what?” you asked blankly.

A chuckle rippled through the group and a slight flush rose in your neck, but you smiled despite it.

“I said, how do you think Morgan’s gonna do?” Reid repeated.

A soft breath blew past your lips as you held your hands up.

“Don’t look at me,” you said, “I’m taking no bets on that one.”

Morgan and Hotch returned, drinks in hand, to everyone staring with concealed mirth.

“What?” Morgan squinted his eyes at everyone in turn, sinking onto his chair, “You guys been conspiring against me?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Prentiss mumbled, taking a hearty sip of her beer to avoid speaking further.

Banter broke out almost instantaneously and you watched like it was your own private film showing. Hotch swiped a chair from a nearby vacant table and propped it next to yours, close enough that a wave of his cologne hit you a second after he slid onto it.

He raised his glass of dark stout toward you, expectant. A smile forming at the familiar action, you clinked your glass against his. You met his eyes and immediately dissolved into a fit of laughter along with him.

“What’s so funny?” Reid asked, his attention shifted from telling Garcia about the importance of spacing drinks accordingly.

Hotch gazed at the others, the mirth in his eyes falling away into a mocking version of his serious expression.

“Uh, we’re not at liberty to say,” he shook his head.

You fought away the tide of giddiness and schooled your features into a grave mask.

“Yeah, top secret,” you agreed, putting on an air of importance.

“Oh, okay,” JJ laughed, “Thought this was supposed to be a team bonding experience.”

“I think we’re good,” you said, quirking an eyebrow, “We’re a team and this is an experience.”

“Oh, it’s about to be,” Morgan grinned devilishly, drumming the table, “Now that everyone’s here… we’re doing shots!”

Immediate protests rang out from everyone. Except Garcia who volunteered to go with Morgan and help him bring a round to the table.

“No!” you and JJ exclaimed in unison.

“What?” she pouted at the two of you, “Why not? That’s no fair.”

At seeing how the rest began to chuckle at her dismay, you shifted a little so you could look her in the eye more clearly.

“Yes, it is,” you spread your hands, shooting her an imploring look, “You gotta let the rest of us catch up to you. Everyone knows you’re always four steps ahead, Garcia.”

You winked and clicked your tongue at her.

Your over-the-top antics had the desired effect. Her pout transformed into a smile brighter than the moon. She reached across the table for you and you took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Alright, alright,” Morgan held his hands up between the two of you, as if to physically stop the interaction, “You made your point, handsome. Now back it up, before we gotta throw down.”

The ripple of laughter emanated from the whole group and you felt rather weightless as you joined in.

A while later, when everyone’s first round had disappeared, the table was empty once again as they left to help bring the shots and other drinks back. You and Rossi stayed behind since his glass remained mostly full and you didn’t want a new drink along with the shot. JJ had tossed a look over her shoulder, meeting Rossi’s eyes for a split second before they all braved the tide of dancers again.

A small shiver ran through your torso, a chill creeping in from the open door. Your mind went to the jacket you had left in the car as your hands tapped out a rhythmless beat against the wooden table.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” he asked in a low tone.

“I’m fine,” you answered automatically, the sudden question took you by surprise. You were unable to keep the irritation from seeping into your voice.

“You sure?” he pressed.

“Yeah.”

You falsely blamed the alcohol in your system when you heard how hard the word came out.

You met his gaze, interpreted his pointed expression and realized there was no use. A breath heaved out of your nose as you carefully rotated your nearly empty glass. The condensation that collected on the surface chilled your fingertips. You focused on the sensation as you tried to untangle the web of thoughts and emotions that snarled around your body.

“Sorry. Just – tired of that question,” you glimpsed his knowing nod out of the corner of your eye, “It’s- It’s been hard, but…”

Your gaze drifted to the group at the bar. Prentiss was throwing peanuts at Reid who kept looking around, perplexed, while Hotch and Morgan tried not to laugh. The sight of Hotch smiling again lifted something heavy from your throat.

“It’s getting better,” you finished.

Rossi stayed silent for a moment, gaze following yours.

“I’m sure it is,” he smiled softly.

“This helps,” you breathed.

When you looked at him again, he lifted his hand to the back of your head and ruffled your hair as he smile grew. If anyone else did that to you, you’d probably leave them with at least a sprained finger or two. But when Rossi did it, there was only a glowing warmth that burned away some of the sticky threads that ensnared you.

The large tray that Prentiss placed on the table shattered the cozy moment as you both looked at the impressive array of shots with trepidation.

“Do I even wanna know how much that cost?” Rossi groaned.

Hotch shook his head as he slid back into his seat.

“No, you don’t,” he muttered, reaching behind you to give Rossi a little pat on the back.

You chuckled as Rossi rubbed his face in defeat, clearly regretful about agreeing to pay for the first few rounds. You stilled when Hotch drew his hand back and his fingers briefly brushed across your shoulder blade.

Glancing sideways, you found him peering at everyone pleasantly, clearly unaware of what he inadvertently did. You forced your attention to the group as Morgan and JJ distributed shots to everyone, minus Garcia.

Taking yours, you felt Hotch’s knee bump yours under the table. You gave another sidelong glance, wondering if that was an accident as well. He gave you the quickest glance in return as he picked up his small glass.

“Déjà vu,” his voice rumbled lowly, for your ears alone.

Your mouth quirked into a smirk for a split second.

“Mhmm,” you hummed in agreement.

“Alright!” Morgan called out, holding his glass high.

Everyone lifted their own, Garcia with her water and lime, and gathered all the glasses together in a large, tinkling toast.

You spied Reid already grimacing before he even drank the liquid and you laughed. A chorus of grunts and groans rang out from the others as they downed theirs. You threw yours back with ease. You couldn’t help the swell of satisfaction when Prentiss and JJ stared at you, their faces almost matching expressions of surprise mixed with admiration.

“Okay,” Morgan smiled, reaching over and smacking the top of your arm lightly, “You been holdin’ out on us, Mr. I don’t like bars.”

“He’s not even getting started,” Hotch murmured, a mischievous glint in his eye.

When Morgan looked to Hotch, then back at you expectantly, you kept your face as neutral and innocent as possible. Hotch shook his head slowly, disbelief spreading across his features.

“Don’t do that,” he said, a smile forming, “Don’t make me look crazy.”

You merely shrugged, turning to Reid with an exaggerated look of confusion. He laughed before he sipped at his water, washing the taste of the whiskey away. Garcia was watching you with pure delight dancing in her eyes, much like JJ and Prentiss.

JJ and Rossi glanced at each other before they began to laugh. For many long moments, the smell of the whiskey and the sound of everyone setting each other off in a chain reaction was the only thing in the space between everyone.

“Alright, hot shot,” Morgan said when the laughter subsided, grabbing another couple from the tray, “Let’s go.”

He set the next one in front of you, the clack of the glass against the table ringing out loudly. You glanced around, all their faces betraying how intrigued they really were to watch this development.

“What about everyone else?” you asked.

“Who wants another?” Morgan addressed them.

A cluster of hands gestured negatively, except for Garcia whose hand shot up like she was desperately trying to be called on by a teacher.

“Ooh! Ooh! Come on!” she pleaded.

You locked eyes with JJ, having a quick telepathic conversation.

“Alright,” you agreed, “I guess you’ve waited long enough.”

You grabbed another off the tray and placed it in front of her, but Morgan was staring you down over his glass and your focus was on him. Prentiss’s eyebrows went up, whispering to JJ behind her hand. If it weren’t for the loud bass that drowned out nearly everything, you would have sworn you could hear old cowboy duel music playing as you gazed at Morgan with your glass aloft.

Hotch sharply tapped the table twice and you all threw your shots back. The whiskey was rather decent, but it wasn’t the best you’d ever had.

Slamming your glass back onto the table, you watched Morgan struggle to keep his grimace away. The gasps from JJ and Prentiss only served to bolster your confidence and you couldn’t contain your smirk.

Morgan groaned, shaking his head in frustration as he shot his hand out and snatched Reid’s water to take a sip.

“Hey!” Reid protested, pulling back with a frown when Morgan tried to return it, “Keep it. I need a new one now.”

Garcia cackled and you extended your fist which she bumped with gusto.

“We finally got him on something!” you cheered with her.

Morgan was already trying to call for a rematch while everyone else chimed in, trying to get him to gracefully accept defeat. You heard a familiar giggle at your side and looked to find Hotch positively beaming. Rather lightheaded, you wanted to down the rest of the platter if it would keep that look on his face.

Time began to throw its order to the wind, sometimes racing along before you could even catch a glimpse of it. Other times, it would creep by like it was slogging through mud as thick as clay.

You swore you had been listening to Prentiss talk about the adoption process for cats for nearly fifteen minutes, but when you glanced at your watch it revealed that only five had passed.

The others had gone on another trip back to the bar, all the glasses from the platter now empty. Morgan had done away with a good deal more than the rest of you. You were taking a break, knowing you couldn’t afford to go as wild as you wished.

You sank low in your chair and scrubbed at your face. The air around you shifted as the others returned and took their seats. Peeling your eyes open, you smiled at them as they shuffled by.

In a moment, your smile faded as you realized Hotch wasn’t there.

Breath coming a little quicker, you shot up and had to catch yourself on the edge of the table when the chair tipped forward onto its front legs. Settling back down hard, your gaze scanned the whole area in a flash.

“Where’s Hotch?” you demanded, searching the area over again.

“He went to the bathroom,” JJ said gently, eyeing your tense posture.

“Calm down, man,” Morgan laughed, his words rather thick, “What, you want Garcia to track him for you?”

Over here! Help!

You blinked hard.

Rossi sighed as he glanced at Morgan, then at you and your fingers clenched on the edge of the table.

“Kid, it’s okay –” he tried.

His tone launched you out of your seat, your chest burning with a flush you could feel creeping up your neck.

“Be right back,” you choked out and lurched toward the door, stumbling around people in your haste.

The group grew still and the air was sapped of all the joy that previously permeated it.

“I was… just kidding,” Morgan mumbled, gazing at everyone for reassurance.

Garcia gave his arm a light smack.

“You can be so –! Ugh!”she crossed her arms, staring at him.

No one said anything to refute Garcia’s words. The silence grew stale and uncomfortable as they all took fervent glances toward the door, waiting for you to come back.

When Hotch returned, his face shifted from an expression of ease to concern when he felt the abrupt change in atmosphere. Noting the empty chair next to his, he turned to survey the room. His eyes scanned all the dancing forms rather frantically.

“Where’s ---?” he asked.

The frosty gusts of wind tickled your neck as you leaned against the outside of the building, your top button undone. Small tremors ran through your hands and you blamed it on the cold. Your gaze edged toward the end of the street where your car sat parked. You could get in and just be done with this night.

Your heart seemed intent on jumping out of your throat. You heaved in a breath, the frigid air going in jagged. The shaky exhale left a great cloud in front of your face for an instant before it dissipated. If only expelling feelings were that easy.

The crunch of the gravel underfoot alerted you to the approaching figure, but you didn’t look. Instead you glanced at your watch, surprise mixing in with everything else when you realized they had given you ten minutes before someone finally came to check on you.

“Hey,” Prentiss approached you slowly.

“Hey,” you choked out.

“What’s going on? You okay?”

You turned to see her unhindered smile had been replaced with a look of deep concern. Before you could stop it, a scoff came out, forming another thick little cloud. You hated that you had caused the shift in her mood, in everyone’s mood most likely.

An understanding hum came from the woman at your side as she rubbed her hands over the goosebumps that rose on her arms.

“I shouldn’t have asked that, should I?” she gave a sheepish smirk.

“No, go ahead!” you threw your arms out with an exasperated laugh, “Everyone else is, you might as well.”

You glanced over at her agitatedly, but stilled when you noticed her trying to warm herself.

“I’ve got a jacket in the car if you want it,” you lowered your voice self-consciously.

“He really upset you, didn’t he?” she asked earnestly, skipping over your half-hearted attempt at changing the subject.

Cars whizzed by on the street, their headlights illuminating the pair standing against the wall for brief intervals. You lost count of how many went by before you could speak again.

“It’s fine, I know he’s just kidding,” you mumbled toward your shoes.

“Yeah, well. He can be real sweet and funny, but sometimes…” she shook her head with a little grimace.

You nodded, rubbing at your neck. She let you sit in silence for another minute, shuffling close enough that your arms pressed against each other. She would claim it was for warmth only.

“You can talk to us, you know,” she murmured, “You’re not alone.”

Mortifyingly, a searing sting rose behind your eyes. Your jaw clenched and you didn’t dare look over at her. When she felt you leaning into her more heavily, she smiled at the ground.

The swirling puffs of her breath mingled with yours in the space before you. Cars continued to rush past, too many to count. Finally, you pushed off the wall and gave her a tentative peek.

“Thanks,” you uttered softly, “Let’s go back in, you’re freezing.”

“Hey,” she put a hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks, “I meant what I said.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know… Thank you.”

She must have found your second reply more satisfactory because she smiled and began to pull you back inside at a startling pace.

“Woah! Hey!” you exclaimed, your cold limbs fighting to move fast enough to keep up, “Hey! Prentiss, what are you doing?!”

She let out a jubilant laugh, saying nothing and continuing to drag you onward. Straight onto the dance floor. You tried to dig your heels in, but it was no use.

“Oh, no, no, no! Emily!” you tried in vain to stop your momentum but once she finally came to a halt you were already in the middle of the crowd.

You gaped at her, astounded. She took your hands and began to direct you, her laughter loud enough that you could still hear it over the music. All the surrounding people were gyrating to the sounds and you began to feel stupid just standing there.

Stiffly, you shifted around as you wondered what this form of dance was even supposed to be. Prentiss shook her head at you, her eyes gleaming with fondness. She leaned close to your ear.

“You’re overthinking it!”

Slowly, you simply tried to move in ways that felt comfortable as opposed to looking a certain way. The sight of her dazzling smile and the sound of her laugh cutting through the rhythm was enough to spur you on.

Back at the table, everyone caught sight of the pair of you and gave various exclamations.

“I don’t know what he was worried about,” Reid muttered, “He’s better than me, at least.”

“Still no match for me, though,” Morgan elbowed Reid with a laugh.

“Hey, no fair!” Garcia began to rise from her seat, affronted, “I’ve been wanting to dance with him for – forever!”

JJ pulled her back down gently.

“Easy,” she laughed, “I’m sure you’ll get your turn.”

“Speaking of turns,” Morgan stood, slightly unsteady, “I’ve been catching the woman looking at me – one too many times.”

He strutted toward the dance floor himself.

Rossi watched as you spun Prentiss around, earning a gleeful laugh from her, and smiled into his beer. He glanced at Hotch, spying his worried look having melted away to leave only a fond smile as he watched the pair of you.

Your chest rose rather harshly when you finished your pseudo routine with Prentiss, and she put her arms around your shoulders as you swayed together to catch your breath.

“Thanks for that,” you said, knowing she’d hear because of how close you were. Her heavy breath and little laugh tickled at your ear.

“Anytime,” she replied.

A rush of gratitude spread through to your fingertips, warming you faster than any alcohol. Still smiling, you spied a man at the bar watching you and Prentiss.

“Uh, don’t look now,” you muttered, “But I think that guy is checking you out.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, “Is he cute?”

A huff burst from your lips.

“I don’t know,” you laughed, “Here.”

You rotated slowly until you had traded places with her and she could look behind you. She gave an approving nod when she finally caught sight of the dark-haired man in the open button-up over a t-shirt that kept shooting looks over.

“Hmm,” she hummed, “Not too bad. But hey, not my priority tonight.”

She fixed her gaze back on you with a smile. You stilled in your swaying and her smile slipped slightly.

“What, did I –” she began, worried.

“You’re a great friend,” you muttered before you could stop yourself and cringe at the sappiness.

Her smile returned, wider than before and her eyes glistened a little.

“Thanks,” she said, “Takes one to know one.”

With Prentiss gone on a bathroom break with JJ and Garcia, you wandered toward the bar. The dancing had left you thirsty for anything that could chase away the dry burn in your throat. You caught sight of Morgan out on the floor as well, with a young woman’s arms around him, and you shook your head with a smile.

Finally reaching the bar, the chaos surrounded you. People crowded around each other, alcohol dulling their manners as they barked their orders at the woman making their drinks. Finding an empty corner, you slotted yourself in and waited patiently.

“What can I get ya?” the woman asked as she spied you, looking rather harried.

“Um, whatever you’re making them is fine,” you motioned toward the group of men off to the left, clamoring and waving their hands.

She nodded, serving something in a tall glass in a flash and sliding it over to you. As you thanked her, you grabbed it to lift it to your lips, but she placed a shot glass filled with a pitch dark liquid next to it.

Perplexed, you looked up to ask her what it was for, but she had already rushed away, her tattooed arms flying as she made more drinks than seemed possible.

Glancing around at the other men, you saw them chugging the drinks but you couldn’t see their shots. Assuming they were supposed to be mixed, you picked up the smaller glass to pour the dark contents in.

“No, no, no!” rushed words came from off to the right.

You turned to see the man that had been watching Prentiss when you were dancing, holding his hand out as if to stop you, with an incredulous smile cracked across his face.

“You’re supposed to drop the whole glass inside,” he mimed releasing the glass from his grasp.

You stared at him blankly. For several moments, the din of the surrounding crowd crashed over you in waves.

“Are you messing with me?” you chuckled as you still held the smaller glass aloft.

The man came closer and nodded with a muted laugh. Wary, you pulled your glass away a little but not enough to make it obvious. The raucous sounds of people enjoying their Friday night dampened a little as your focus was pulled onto him.

“Here,” he held a hand up toward the bartender, “Another one of these, please.”

He pointed at your drink and the woman nodded. Before you could utter a word of protest, another identical drink slid across the bar and the man sidled up next to you.

“Alright, look,” he said, holding up his shot glass, “Watch and learn.”

Sure enough, he let the little glass fall straight down into the larger one and began to gulp down the mingling contents rapidly. He didn’t stop until he drained both glasses simultaneously.

At the table, Rossi noticed the tenseness of Hotch’s shoulders and the hard press of his lips against each other. Leaning over, he peered around him to see you talking to another man at the bar.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Hotch remained motionless, his gaze trained on you as you observed the other man downing a drink.

“Aaron,” Rossi called.

Hotch blinked, and finally turned back to meet Rossi’s perplexed gaze. When he didn’t say anything more, Hotch gave a little head-shake and a shrug.

“That guy’s getting kinda close to his drink,” he murmured.

“What, you think he’s gonna get roofied?” Rossi deadpanned.

“Dave,” Hotch shot him a look, clearly unimpressed, “That’s not funny.”

Rossi shook his head, gesturing in your direction.

“Look,” he nodded emphatically at you, “He’s right there. He’s alright.”

Hotch turned back toward you, watching rather intently.

“The better question is, are you?” Rossi threw at him.

Hotch peered at him, his features hardened as he looked away, taking a purposefully long sip of water.

“Wow,” you said.

When you glanced around to find no one laughing at the man, you assumed he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.

“Alright,” you shrugged and copied his instructions, the shot glass clinking onto the bottom of the other. You chugged the drink until it was gone, the blend of the liquids rather sugary and smooth. Finishing it, you exhaled heavily and shared a triumphant look.

“I’m Javi, by the way.”

You shook his outstretched hand and introduced yourself.

“Thanks,” you shook your empty glass, creating a tinkling, “Kept me from looking stupid.”

“Any other drinks you need help with?” he leaned his elbow against the bar with a smirk.

You paused and thought for a moment.

“Well… how would I know?” you asked earnestly.

Laughter jumped from deep in his chest, his eyes crinkling, clearly not having expected your response.

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. Wanna pick one at random?” he lifted his eyebrows.

It was your turn to laugh, the aftertaste of the drink was sweet on your tongue.

He pointed at the large array of options listed on the menu above the bar.

“Take your pick, my treat.”

“What?” you shook your head, “No, no, thanks, but I couldn’t.”

He tapped the bar as he shook his own glass enticingly.

“Come on,” he smiled, “Look, I’m gonna hit bathroom real quick. When I get back, you need to have a choice!”

Stunned, you watched him saunter away toward the back of the building. Through the buzz of the drink, you felt a wash of disbelief come over you. Making a friend at the bar tonight was not something you had on your itinerary.

You asked the woman for a small water while you perused the menu and waited for Javi to return, not knowing how much more alcohol would be in the next drink.

Morgan appeared at your side and his hand clapped your back, the force rather stronger than usual, leading to some of the water sloshing out of your cup. You gave a sidelong glare of annoyance as you shook your hand off, reaching for the nearest pile of napkins.

“How drunk are ya, handsome?” Morgan laughed.

“What?” you fired back, affronted, “You just spilled my drink.”

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, “But I meant your, uh, your new buddy.”

He slung his arm around your shoulder, giving you a whiff that only solidified your suspicion that he was far drunker than you, and then pointed toward Javi who was typing something out on his phone near the bathroom.

“The bet was to get a girl’s number,” Morgan chuckled.

Irritation flooded your veins as you wiped the outside of your glass as well as your hand. You didn’t grace his comment with a response. Morgan studied the man silently for a moment, leaning on you heavily. You replayed the night in your mind in double speed, recalling the number of times Morgan had gone back to the bar for another drink as you tried to get an estimate of how wasted he was.

“I mean…” Morgan muttered, pursing his lips in thought,“He is kinda pretty. Maybe he’s… a little light in the loafers, if you know what I mean.”

His carefree laugh rang out, the sound piercing your ears uncomfortably.

“I’ll give you half a point for that!”

You wrenched out of his reach and shot him a hard, backward glance.

“Nice.” your tone was flat.

“Come on, man, I – I’m kidding!” Morgan pleaded, the stupid grin never leaving his face, “I know you like the ladies.”

Hotch approached slowly from behind Morgan and caught your eye. He must have been watching the interaction from afar and seen the unamused look that grew on your face. He put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder and beckoned him over to the table where he had been sitting with Rossi. Surprisingly, Morgan went willingly and you stalked away before anyone else could swoop in to ask you what happened.

Pushing into the bathroom, you were blessed to find it empty, briefly wondering where Javi had gone. Your fingers went numb at the thought of him, Morgan’s comment ringing in your ears.

On a whim, you locked the main door. If anyone came, you’d unlock it immediately but the spiky tingling in your chest made you desperate for a moment of solitude with the certainty that no one would walk in.

Turning on the tap full blast, you cupped your hands underneath the cold stream and splashed the water onto your face. You avoided your reflection, knowing that seeing yourself would only make things worse at the moment.

You let your eyes close and tried to ground yourself. Your breath was coming too quick.

In, out, in, out.

In-out, in-out, in-out.

Your fingers clenched around the sink. Cold. Wet.

In out.

The loud rush of the tap counteracted the ringing in your ears.

In out.

You screwed your nose up. Discarded beer. Smelly.

In, out.

Your eyes opened. Your fingers were white with the force of your grip. The bright tiles of the floor were shiny and new, no one had the chance to scuff and crack them yet.

In. Out. In. Out.

Your heart no longer felt like it was in danger of bursting and you heaved a great sigh of relief, feeling rather lightheaded. It felt safe to look in the mirror. You were surprised to see a rather normal looking man staring back at you. You never would have guessed he had just been talking himself down from some kind of breakdown.

A knock on the door made you jump and you nearly slammed your shoulder into a towel dispenser.

“Yeah, sorry!” you called as you turned the tap off and reached over to unlock the door. You quickly moved out of the way to allow whoever was on the other side a wide berth. Ten long seconds passed and the door remained closed.

Slowly, you shuffled toward it, still wary and under the impression that it would swing open at any moment. Gripping the cold handle, you pulled it open gradually.

An unsurprised breath left your lips. Hotch was waiting patiently on the other side.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice was mercifully steady.

“You want to go outside for a minute?”

A man pushed roughly past Hotch and through the door, nearly slamming it into your face in the process.

“Yeah,” you repeated dryly, “Probably a good idea.”

Hotch led the way toward the back door and a wave of gratitude rushed forth, replacing the odd franticness, as you realized he was taking you away from the prying eyes of the team. Peering around as you stepped through, you briefly wondered if the two of you were allowed to use this door.

The shift was instant. It was like stepping through a portal to another world. The bumping music faded, the darkness enveloped you, and the wafting aroma of alcohol faded away. There was nothing but the blessedly cool night, the glowing stars above, the chilled bricks of the building at your back, and Hotch at your side.

He said nothing and looked at the sky, always knowing when you needed time. Your skin felt like it should be emitting a soft glow with how warm it was. You let your eyes close as the breeze ruffled your hair, letting out a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you finally muttered, finding it odd that you didn’t have to raise your voice anymore, “I… I’m alright.”

“Whatever he said, he didn’t mean it. He’s just drunk,” Hotch said, eyes trailing across the stars that shone overhead.

“He doesn’t need to be drunk,” you responded almost bitterly, “He says those things all the time.”

“What things?” Hotch asked, now a touch alarmed, peering at you searchingly.

When you didn’t respond right away, he fixed his gaze back onto the stars. The brisk wind picked up again and you caught a lingering note of his cologne.

“Uh, nothing really,” you muttered, hand dragging through your hair, “I think I just need to… stop drinking for the night. I’m getting all… irritated.”

A self conscious huff passed through your nose.

“You’re nowhere near drunk,” Hotch stated, “I’ve seen firsthand how much you can handle.”

You whipped your head around to mockingly glare at him but a jolt ran through you at the fact that he acknowledged that night again, however indirectly.

“You been monitoring my drinks, Agent Hotchner?” you narrowed your eyes, but allowed your smirk to grow.

His laugh was rich and full, blanketing the little space between you and providing a shield from the frigid air.

“Busted,” he muttered, deepening his voice humourously.

Silence stretched out for a few minutes, the chilly night doing wonders for your hot skin. Suddenly, the fact that you needed it at all came crashing down on the ease you had settled into.

“So stupid,” you spat bitterly.

“What?” Hotch asked, brows drawing together, startled.

Going out to have drinks shouldn’t feel like fighting a battle with enemies that looked identical to your friends. Normal people didn’t need regular time-outs just to have a successful outing. You were a federal agent, for god’s sake. You crossed your arms, fingers clenching around your biceps.

“Just… all of it,” you mumbled.

Hotch peered at you, studying your expression and body language. He must have agreed because he said nothing, merely leaning his head back against the wall. You watched your breath cloud in front of your face. The dim light of the moon peeked out from behind an actual cloud.

“Have you been asked if you’re alright yet?” you broke the silence, turning to send him a wry look.

He snorted softly, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Yeah. Dave and JJ,” he nodded.

“I got you beat,” you huffed, “I’ve got everyone except Morgan.”

The absurdity of the competition had you both giggling. You clutched at your chest. This was the only kind of breathless you wanted to be.

It was getting better with the others, but even if you spoke about it, they simply wouldn't understand what you were feeling the same way he did. As you settled into quiet again, your ears pricked up at a steady sound. You blinked and focused on it, discovering with a start that it was his breathing.

Leaning your head back against the cool bricks, your eyes closed as you tried to match your own to his. His presence at your side was solid and steadying. He might have noticed what you were doing because you heard a sudden stutter in his breath before it evened out again.

“You know, I think they might have a little bet of their own going,” you murmured, your head heavy against the wall.

“Who?” Hotch sounded interested.

“Rossi and JJ,” you said.

Hotch turned fully toward you at that, his expression rapt.

“I’ve seen them… giving each other these looks,” you shook your head, “They think I can’t see them.”

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s about us,” you said softly, apprehensive about how he’d respond.

He was quiet for a moment, only the muted beat of the music inside filling the silence.

“Who do you think’s winning?” Hotch quipped, his gaze glinting.

A gentle chuckle came from you at that, producing little puffs of breath in the air.

“I have no idea,” you admitted, “But… we’re definitely tipping the scales in someone’s favor right now.”

His smile broke out fully now, a true laugh ringing out and you joined in. Your head fell into your hand and your shoulder bumped into his.

Both men stilled as they regained their composure, but neither pulled away from the other afterward. Soft warmth emanated from the point of contact where his shoulder leaned into yours. The contrast of it to the night air was pleasant.

The cloud in front of the moon shifted and you both were bathed in dim, silvery light. The fact that he was standing outside with you, forgoing making the most of his limited time off to help you, had a tide of emotion rising within. You swallowed with difficulty, and the sudden urge to embrace him again came over you like the moonlight.

Hazarding a glance, you saw he was looking to the sky with an air of content and you pushed the urge away, unwilling to disturb that peace. You settled for leaning into him a little closer, your arms touching. When he did nothing to move away, the ease inside you returned.

He was alright.

You were alright.

“We should probably get back in there,” Hotch finally spoke quietly, glancing at his watch, “Before they start sweeping the place for us.”

“Yeah,” your brows furrow in thought, “I think I still owe Garcia a dance.”

Hotch gave a low chuckle, his dimple appearing as he smiled at the thought.

“Good luck with that.”

Hotch went in first, allowing you a couple extra minutes to gather your resolve. When you finally pushed back inside, the music that you danced to minutes before now seemed to ring rather hollow.

Another deep breath, and you began to make your way back toward the table. A group of women cut in front of you, nearly screeching with laughter and almost stumbling over each other. The sight made you laugh reflexively and you were a little less nervous when you continued.

“Oh, hey, there you are,” a voice came, and you turned to see Javi standing from a seat at a small table, “Thought maybe I scared you off or something.”

“Oh, no, I was just, um…” you pointed over your shoulder at the back exit and trailed off, unaware of how to explain without sounding insane.

You shook yourself, switching gears.

“Uh, are you here alone?” you asked, contemplating inviting him to join the group.

He seemed nice enough, and maybe you could try and steer the conversation in the right direction for Prentiss to get to talk to him one on one.

“Yeah,” his smile grew, “You?”

“I’m with some friends,” you said as you both started toward the bar again.

“Oh, cool,” he said, a spark glinting in his gaze, “So that woman, she’s – she’s just your friend?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, nodding.

You were definitely going to try to set them up, as a thank you to Prentiss.

“Alright,” he smiled, then shot a finger gun at you, “I’m gonna go get us two new drinks. I’ll try to find a doozy for you.”

A snort came from your nose as you watched him approach the bar, disappearing into the throng of people that crowded around it. You weaved around groups, heading back in the direction of the table.

A presence appeared at your side and Morgan’s liquor-heavy grip landed on your shoulders. If you had one less drink in your system, you would’ve made the connection much quicker. His boisterous cackle rang out, unaware of his fingers tightening and twisting too roughly as he jostled you playfully.

Hot pain flared across your right shoulder in a sear as quick as a match falling into gasoline. A yelp was ripped from your throat as you shrank and twisted away from his vice-like clutches. Even in his state, Morgan tore his hands away in shock after hearing your cry of pain.

But the damage was already done. Clutching at your shoulder, the slow, hot gush spread under your fingers. Looking down, you heaved a shaky breath at the deep red stain that was steadily tainting your shirt.

“Woah! Dude – I – What – I’m sorry, man, how –” Morgan fumbled for words, bleary eyes wide as he gawked.

“My shirt…” you croaked, unable to tear your eyes away from the trail seeping down your front.

Prentiss passed by and caught sight of you both, changing course to meet you, but her relaxed expression shifted into horror when she spied you trembling and transfixed on your torso.

“Oh, my god!” she scurried to your side, trying to assess the severity of the wound, “What happened?”

“I – I barely touched him,” Morgan held his hands out.

Prentiss shot him a stunned look, her eyes scanning the ground for broken glass or anything that could’ve caused you to bleed so much.

“Hang on,” she told you, disappearing for a moment.

Your breath stuttered, the music dulling as a roar grew in your ears. You vaguely registered the sound of shocked gasps and mutterings from people nearby as they began to notice you. Prentiss rushed back into your space, prying your hand away and pressing a cloth into your shoulder.

You winced at the movement, feeling like your fingers took some of your skin with them.

“Sorry,” she said sympathetically, “Come on, can you walk?”

Your feet stumbled along as she gently guided you back toward the table while hissing back and forth with Morgan about what happened.

“My… my shirt, Emily,” your voice came out in a disoriented mumble.

“What?” she questioned, eyes wide in bewilderment.

The chorus of exclamations and gasps snapped your unfocused gaze up to the table of your teammates.

Hotch shot up from his seat, at your side in an instant. Garcia let out a series of bewildered sounds, grasping at JJ who gaped at you silently. Reid stood as well, approaching to take stock of your injury. Rossi stared at you, wide eyed, before sharing a tense glance with Hotch.

You were dimly aware of everyone speaking, some of it probably directed at you but you couldn’t get your mouth to form words as you gazed at them.

Ignore it. Keep pushing. Keep pushing.

“He’s in shock,” Reid’s voice drifted by.

Hands carefully maneuvered you into a chair. A familiar cologne hit your nose as someone leaned in, prying your fingers away and pulling your collar open briefly.

“I told you it needed stitches,” Hotch’s voice came.

His tone could easily be interpreted as anger or annoyance, but a distant corner of your mind knew he was really worried.

“I didn’t do anything – I just grabbed him, man,” Morgan’s lilted speech was close to your ear.

“Sit down, Morgan,” Hotch spoke measuredly, and the rank scent of alcohol-heavy breath vanished.

You were able to turn to see Hotch putting himself between you and Morgan. Reid held a hand on his shoulder as he mumbled attempts to distract him.

“What the hell’s the matted – the matter with you, Hotch? Huh?,” Morgan nearly shouted, clearly beyond reasoning, “He does somethin’ stupid but what – no, no big Hotch lecture? You’re his bodyguard now?”

J-Just go!

No! I’m not leaving!

“Let’s not cause a scene in the middle of the bar,” Hotch’s even tone carried out, “If you want to yell at me, please do it outside.”

“I…” your voice was inaudible above everyone else’s.

You fumbled with your top button, trying to undo it with one hand unsuccessfully.

Just as quick as Morgan’s anger had flared, it vanished as he snorted and slung his arm around the other man, hanging off Hotch’s shoulder.

“Freakin’ Hotch, man,” he snickered, “You’re so serious…”

“Who’s taking him home?” Hotch looked to the others, the thin line of his mouth was the only indicator of his true feelings.

“I got it,” Rossi said.

“Thanks, Dave,” Hotch mumbled.

“Hey,” Garcia’s teary voice came from the side, “You didn’t have to do this. We can dance another time.”

You glanced at her, trying to blink her into focus and clear away that worried look on her face.

“---?” JJ called.

“Mhmm,” you hummed over the odd wheezing that met your ears.

She exchanged a few worried whispers with Prentiss.

“Oh, hey! Where’s your f – Oh, shit!”

Blinking, you dragged your gaze over to spot Javi, two drinks in hand as he approached, his eyes wide as they took in your state.

“Ohhhh,” Morgan slung his arm around Reid, failing to whisper to him, “Here we go.”

“Come on,” Hotch’s fingers curled under your elbow, “I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

You stood hesitantly as Hotch and Prentiss kept hold of your arms, knowing you should say something to Javi who was trying to understand what had happened in the time he had been gone.

As you were marched through the front door and the frigid night air hit your skin, the shock cleared your head somewhat and you briefly marveled at the fact that none of the staff did anything about the situation.

About halfway to where everyone’s cars were, you were struck with how bizarre the bunch of you must look. You being surrounded by most of the team like they were your secret service agents and Morgan interchangeably hanging off some of them.

“Wait up!” a yell halted the procession, “Hey!”

Javi bounded out of the building, jogging up to the group, slightly breathless and staring at them with bewilderment.

“Woah, lot of friends,” he muttered with a crooked smile.

Your lips twitched upward at the coincidence of his expression as he surveyed the unusual group, clearly wondering how it came form. You looked at Prentiss, trying frantically to think of what to say to ensure he could see her again since he clearly liked her a good deal.

“Yes?” Hotch asked, impatient.

“Listen, um,” Javi rubbed at the back of his head, glancing at the others briefly as he shifted from foot to foot, “I’m no doctor but, uh, here.”

He reached out and pressed a slip of paper into your free hand.

“Why don’t you call me tomorrow and let me know how you’re doing?” he smiled hopefully.

All the urgency that thrummed through the group dissipated for an instant as they stared at him, stunned, you possibly the hardest out of all of them. Blood that you couldn’t spare rose to your face.

“He’s needs an actual doctor right now,” Hotch’s flat voice cut through the moment.

Javi looked at him, his easygoing air waning as he took half a step back.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, of course,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely, glancing back and forth between you and Hotch’s severe expression, “Feel better.”

He turned and began making his way back to the building. Morgan let out a cackle like a madman.

“I knew it! I knew he was a fruit, man!”

“Morgan,” Reid admonished, his brows drawing together in disbelief.

Garcia and JJ both gave little groans and Rossi shook his head silently.

“Dude…” you muttered, embarrassment flooding you, knowing Javi could still hear him.

Hotch’s gaze ran over you assessingly, and he peered at Morgan with a blooming comprehension that had you dropping your gaze back to the ground underfoot.

The trek resumed, everyone rather silent as the atmosphere shifted uncomfortably. Hotch stopped in front of his car, leaving you with Prentiss as he went to turn it on and move things from the passenger seat.

“How’s the bleeding?” she asked quietly, peeking under the saturated cloth.

You shrugged. A hiss escaped your lips. Not a good idea. Your mind was still rather blank at the revelation you just experienced. You wondered how in the hell you had a job that required profiling people as the small slip of paper burned a hole in your pocket.

JJ and Garcia passed by, giving you affectionate pats on your uninjured shoulder, bidding everyone goodbye.

“Come over tomorrow,” Garcia whispered to you, her gaze concerned.

“We’ll see,” you murmured, “Bye, guys.”

As they departed in JJ’s car, Rossi went to input Morgan’s address into his navigation system. Reid stayed with the man himself, basically becoming a Morgan-rack for him to drape himself over to avoid falling.

“Prentiss,” Morgan blurted, hissing the “s” sound, “So? Did I – Did I win? I prove I’m not a dog, huh?”

Several cars passed by, whipping the frosty air at everyone in strong gusts. You didn’t want to look at him directly at the moment. He wasn’t in his right mind, you were well aware. But it still felt like you had received an insult indirectly.

Prentiss turned toward him, disappointment coloring her face.

“Yeah,” she nodded with a wry smile, “But you did prove you’re a bit of an ass when you’re drunk.”

“Oh, wow,” he hung off Reid to lean closer, “I’m gonna remember that!”

“You know, considering the amount of alcohol in your system, you probably won’t even remember saying that,” Reid said matter-of-factly.

“I’ll remember!” Morgan grunted.

“Unfortunately, you won’t remember any of the hurtful things you said, either,” Reid mumbled, gaze flitting over to you and Prentiss.

“Wha – Hurtful?” Morgan’s brow furrowed, hand coming up to ruffle Reid’s hair, “I just tease ya, pretty boy.”

Reid stared at the other man for a long moment, his silence speaking volumes.

“Alright, come on,” Rossi gripped the arm that wasn’t draped around Reid and hauled him toward the car.

Hotch appeared at your side, urgency dancing in his gaze again.

“Let’s go,” he said, nodding at Prentiss and you, then calling over to the others, “Dave? Let me know when you get him home, please?”

“Yeah,” Rossi grunted in acknowledgment, heaving the inebriated man into the car.

Reid gave you a little wave before turning toward his own car.

“Thanks,” you smiled softly at Prentiss as she helped you into Hotch’s passenger seat, a surprisingly difficult task with one hand occupied.

She clipped the seat belt for you.

“Yeah,” she returned the smile, “See you soon.”

The deep rumble of the tires rolling against the asphalt helped ease the racing thoughts in your head. Hotch had yet to speak in the time you had been on the road. You wondered what the inside of his mind was like at the moment.

“Well… at least we went out this time,” you muttered drolly, slightly hoarse.

And somehow ended up alone together again.

“Yeah,” Hotch tilted his head in a little nod, “Not thrilled about how the night ended up, but it was a good start.”

A sudden, hot sting built up behind your eyes. Hotch had actually been having a good time and you had to go and ruin it. Your heart slammed painfully against your chest and your free hand clenched tight around the seat belt at your hips.

“Sorry,” your voice cracked, shame settling heavily upon you and forcing your head down.

Hotch turned to you, momentarily alarmed as he took in your ducked head and slumped posture.

“I’m not upset with you,” he explained quickly.

That got your attention. You looked up to see him glance back at you, not a trace of deception written anywhere on his face.

“I just wish… the night had gone better, is all,” he continued, then sighed, “I wish Morgan hadn’t drank so much.”

A tiny huff was pulled from you at this. That was something you could agree on. You swallowed thickly, tightening your fingers around your damp shoulder.

“Yeah.”

After several embarrassingly necessary stitches and many instances of inability to explain how the injury occurred other than stating it was an accident, you were back in the warm comfort of Hotch’s car. Your neck and shoulder itched from the tape that secured the bandage under your ruined shirt.

Your finger ran back and forth over the door handle, the shine of the white lights stabbing into your eyes for a moment.

“He was kind of right,” you said under your breath as Hotch turned out of the hospital parking lot.

“What’s that?” Hotch asked.

“Morgan,” you explained, “I was reckless… Back then. That day.”

You swallowed thickly before adding on to your thought.

“But you didn’t lecture me about it.”

The silence extended for long enough that you finally had to risk a glance at him, afraid he would start lecturing you right in that very moment. His jaw was tight, his mouth in a hard line, and he gripped the wheel a little tighter than necessary to take the next turn.

“You don’t need a lecture,” he spoke in an undertone.

You turned your attention back to the road, allowing the sound of passing cars to count off the minutes.

“So,” Hotch’s voice jumped up in pitch, attempting to sound casual, “Are you gonna call him?”

The meaning of his words took a little longer to sink in to your scattered, inebriated brain but when they did, the view of the dark street outside swam and blurred. A harsh roaring began to thunder in your ears as you realized what he was really asking you, as you excavated the question under the question.

“What?” the word punched past your lips.

The memory of his stern, disapproving look at Javi swam in your mind. You scrubbed your palms against your thighs as a rather shaky chuckle emerged from your chest.

“W-Why would I call him?”

Hotch’s fingers tightened just a touch on the steering wheel, his head bobbing in a stiff nod.

“Yeah,” Hotch replied quickly and gave the barest chuckle of his own, the sound almost strangled, “Right.”

Sometimes profiling skills took the day off.

Stay Away From My Son

A/N: Being the longtime lover of Criminal Minds I am,, I’m making a full fic from a TikTok scene I made lol I had this whole big scenario in mind for it so I decided I’d expand on it here. Have some Team Dad!Hotch and Team Son/Little Brother!Spencer

disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or it’s characters, they belong to Jeff Davis

Characters: Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ” Jereau, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia, Original Male Character(s)

WARNINGS: groping, grinding, spicy content(not smut)(lime? maybe?), weapons, swearing, probably bad writing, attempted present tense(not what I’m used to but I’ll try ;-;)

As much as Hotch didn’t like- no, detested sending one of his own into danger without proper protection, it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t even send Reid in there with a gun, he’ll have to rely on the younger’s acting skills to keep him safe. They’d figured out the Unsub’s identity and got all the evidence they need to convict him and his current location, which also happens to be his hunting ground. He works at a gay nightclub as a bartender, a job that wouldn’t make it suspicious if he flirted with the patrons.

His type is Twinks, especially first timers that fell for his charms and would willingly follow him out back where he would have sex with them before drugging them and taking them to his place, an apartment above the club. Now, to lure him out to avoid putting civilians in danger and as to not scare them, they sent Reid in undercover.

Spencer, in a brightly colored, loose fitting crop top with very short jean shorts the rest of his legs in fishnet and chunky heeled combat boots, light makeup on his eyes and glittery cheeks makes his way into the club. Garcia has their computers queued up with the security feed inside the club, All their eyes trained on Reid and Lukas Mertins, their Unsub. Spencer makes his way through the crowd, blending in and letting the larger men grab on his hips and rub up on him, the other smaller-statured men dancing up against him as a show for the others. Finally, he makes it to the bar and sits down, panting and excitedly and nervously looking back at the crowds, fitting into his role perfectly.

Lukas takes the bait instantly and looks Spencer up and down like a Lion about to pounce on an injured Gazelle. He slides his way to Spencer, startling him with an introduction.

“Hey, there. I haven’t seen you around. Newcomer?” He asks, deepening his voice as to be alluring.

“Oh, yea! I just moved here from Wyoming!” He yells over the booming music, “I’m Callum!” He sends a charming grin to the man.

“What’s your poison? Gin? Tequila? No, you strike me as a Sex on The Beach kind of guy!” Lukas sends a wink at Spencer, confidence radiating off of him.

“How’d you know?” Spencer grins back at him with that amused surprise Lukas was expecting.

“Little bartenders’ secret, cutie, maybe I’ll teach you some time,” he speaks as he begins making the drink, when he notices Spencer taking out his wallet, “oh, no! You put that away! First timer’s get their first drink on the house!”

“Really? Are you sure?” The easy conversation continues on before another twink runs up and all but drags Spencer back to the dance floor as if they knew each other forever. Lukas keeps his eyes on “Callum” the whole time, clearly taking the shine to him that everyone had hoped(and dreaded).

Spencer makes his way back to the bar, giggling and panting as he returns to his flirtatious conversations with the Unsub.

“Hey, Callum, do you wanna get outta here? My shift just ended.” Lukas leans in close to say the words directly into Spencer’s ear.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Spencer sends a lustful smile at him, his lip between his teeth. Smirking, Lukas jerks his head to gesture Spencer to follow him to the back which lead to the alleyway.

Before they even cross the door’s threshold, Lukas has his lips against Spencer’s, his tongue damn near down his throat. As he gets them out the door, the loud slam resonating through the speaker, his hands are firmly gripping Spencer’s ass, kneading and landing the occasional slap.

Spencer’s hands are lost in Lukas’ hair as the larger man backs him up against the brick wall. Patting his ass, Lukas gets Spencer to jump and wrap his legs around his waist. Holding Spencer up with his own body and the legs around his waist, he begins grinding against him, moving to attach his lips to the brunette’s neck.

“Fuck, baby, you taste so fuckin’ good,” his hand slides up Spencer’s body and plays with his nipple, coaxing moans from the twink in his arms.

“Lukas Mertins! FBI! Get on the ground with your hands behind your head!” Hotch yells at the man, all too eagerly as the team notices. The blonde immediately drops Spencer though he doesn’t let him get away. Mertins wraps his arm around his neck, holding him flush against his body, pulling a pocket knife from his slacks and presses it tightly against Spencer’s throat in retaliation to the guns aimed at him with 5 accompanying death glares.

“I don’t fuckin’ think so. You back the fuck off or I’m taking this slut out.” He hisses out and glares directly at Hotch.

“Hang on there, Reid.” Morgan calls out to said agent when he sees the flash of panic that appears for no more than a few seconds.

“Let him go, Mertins. You’re not getting out of this.” Hotch all but growls out, sending quick glances at Spencer to ensure he’s alright.

“I beg to differ-” Before he could finish, Hotch fires a shot into his shoulder, making him drop the knife and release Reid to cradle his injury as he stumbled to the ground, grunting and growling in rage.

“Then beg.” Hotch snarls, grabbing the jacket they had grabbed for Reid and hurrying to put it around his shoulders, Prentiss coming forward to pull him into her side both for warmth and a sense of protection, while Morgan happily forces Mertins’ arms behind his back. If he accidentally tugs just a bit too hard on the arm Hotch shot, then no one mentions it. Nor do they mention if he just so happens to grab onto the same shoulder to bring him to his feet.

“Least you can do is have the twink suck me off.” He sneers, nodding at Reid.

“That what you think he is? Some twink?” Hotch squints challengingly at the man, daring him to go on.

“He gave me blue balls.” With that, his glare is directed at Reid who only barely shows any of his discomfort, though enough to have Hotch pissed at the man before him.

“Did he?” He feigns surprise and sympathy as he slowly takes the 3 steps forward. Suddenly, in a flash of barely a second, his knee rises to meet Mertins’ crotch, a deep grimace returning as the Unsub groans and collapses to his knees as he curls in on himself. “Now they’re black and blue balls.”

The whole team says nothing as they watch the scene and make not a move to intervene, though some are wearing smirks at Hotch’s display of protectiveness.

“And you say you’re not the dad.” Prentiss, still with a slightly shivering Reid in her arms, teases. Hotch glances back at her, a glare with no heat behind it playing on his features, though he says nothing.

No one says a word but they all notice his lack of denial.

Emily leaves Spencer with a quick squeeze as she goes to take Mertins from Morgan when they begin to head back to the vehicles.

“Hey, you okay, kid?” Derek asks, pulling Spencer into his side for side hug for comfort and to provide some warmth.

“Yea, or well, I will be. Once I can brush my teeth.” Spencer’s answer prompts a chuckle from most of the team and a soft grin from Hotch, who’s just relieved Spencer is alright.

“That was impressive, you know. I don’t know many people who could keep their cool in a situation like that.” Dave smiles at him and gently touches his shoulder as he passes to one of the SUVs.

“He’s right, Spence, that was really brave.” JJ offers gently, a smile on her face she usually reserves for her sons.

“Bravest twink I ever met,” Emily teases, a playful and kind smile on her lips that Spencer can’t resist returning.

Once everyone gathers into their respective SUVs, they begin the drive back to the station to firstly get Spencer back into his own clothes and to pack up to head home. Hotch takes to sitting in the back with Spencer as Emily drives, holding Spencer as he’s still shivering; as well as for his own peace of mind to ensure he’s safe, not that he’ll admit that out loud.

“That was impressive, you did very well,” Hotch sends a small, proud smile to him, though it soon turns to slight worry, “are you okay, though? That was a lot.” Spencer smiles at the concern, really seeing his “Dad Mode” as the team calls it.

“I’m okay. I’ll be much more comfortable in clothes with more coverage and some mouthwash, but I’m alright, right now.” Nearly the moment he finishes his sentence Emily’s phone blares to life, flashing with Penelope’s contact.

“Hey, what’s up, Garcia?” Emily announces into the phone, signaling she’s on speaker.

“Oh my sweet Boy Wonder! How are you?! Are you okay?! That was amazing! I didn’t know you could move like that! I’m definitely taking you the next time I go dancing! Please tell me someone punched that guy in the dick! Did he hurt you?! Be ready for a hug the moment you get back!!” She rushes, hardly taking a breath between sentences, making Emily and Spencer laugh and Hotch lightly chuckle with a fond smile.

“I’m alright, I promise. We’ll see about that dancing. Don’t worry, his genitals did not leave unscathed. And I’m looking forward to it, Penelope.” Spencer stays grinning throughout his update.

“Good! And, see, this is why I’m not in the field! No one messes with my Beautiful Boy Wonder! He wouldn’t be walking away at all if I was there!” She lets out her mini rant, adding in more bits of her protectiveness of him, in particular of the team, before she eventually hangs up.

They get back to the station, wrap everything up, get Spencer back into his own clothes, and bid adieu to the local enforcement and climb on the jet.

Spencer’s still low body temperature is making him tired, which he tries to explain the science behind as he’s floating in and out of consciousness. Hotch, who’s sitting beside him, smiles fondly at his habits and lightly directs his head to lean on his shoulder, where the Doctor promptly falls asleep.

The team, expectedly, grins at the sight and Derek and Emily immediately jump at the chance to take pictures, most of which sport a Hotch glancing at the camera with an amused smirk.

“Still not ‘the Dad’?” JJ smirks at Hotch over her book, gesturing with a quick glance at the man on his shoulder.

A defeated smile on his lips, Hotch huffs a silent chuckle, “No comment.”

Morgan: So, what do you think about that plan?

Rossi: Whatever floats your titanic

Morgan: The titanic sank

Rossi: Yeah, just like your IQ did when you came up with that plan.

Garcia: I actually have a black belt!

Rossi: You have a black belt In karate?

Garcia: No, from Gucci

✨ Coming Soon! ✨

Criminal minds is so cute, I love when they release the profile and they take turns to deliver it to the police. I picture them rehearsing "Reid, I'm speaking after you pretty boy😏" "good idea ! I'll give the classification of the killer🥰✨🌺" "I'll say that we are looking for a white male in his early 30ies😐" "yeah do that Aaron"

i was thinking of a good story where it's "the reader and Spencer's wedding they are having a good time and Penelope wants to congratulate them but can't find them, she walks around and finally spots reader she is resting against the wall of a cleaning closet, they talk for a bit and she leaves, when Penelope leaves spencer comes from out of readers dress, and says that that was a close one"

Wedding Bliss | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summery: The post-wedding bliss hits differently after the ceremony, and Spencer and you intend to make the most of it.

Warning/s: just tooth rotting fluff, allusions to smut that happened, wedding, marriage, Penelope's crying, short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, and just all of the love

Author's note: this is just too freaking cute, I just changed the part where Penelope and the reader are walking around, hope that's okay.

You knew that you would remember this day for the rest of your life and all of the feelings that this day had brought you.

The feeling of you walking down the rose filled aisle with bouquet in your hands as the back of your long dress was trailing behind you slowly. The feeling of the rose petals of your bouquet against your fingers. The look on Spencer's face as you got closer and closer to him standing with Morgan by his side. The lone tear that rolled down his face once he saw you. The smiles on Emily's and JJ's faces. The proud look that Rossi was wearing. The little smile on Aaron's face as he waited in the middle of the aisle to get Spencer and you married to each other. Penelope's pink handkerchief with which she wiped her tears away.

Once you finally reached Spencer, you turned around to give your bouquet to Jack before you turned back around only to see Spencer holding his hand out for you to take. You took it without any hesitation.

Aaron's speech and Spencer's and yours vows were exchanged, the rings were placed and before you knew it you were kissing the love of your life, your soulmate, the one that you married.

The ceremony after the wedding was just perfect. Everyone was very excited and had so much fun. The cake was cut, and the bouquet was thrown, and after the first dance between Spencer and you, the two of you disappeared once you noticed that everyone was dancing, too.

Penelope was looking everywhere for the two of you as she wanted to congratulate Spencer and you one more time. However, as much as she looked around, she didn't see you anywhere.

Thankfully, she saw Derek with a glass of champagne in his hand, talking to Hotch and laughing with him. So she decided to quickly come over and as soon as she did, Derek noticed her.

"Hey, baby girl," he turned to her and smiled, "What's up?"

"Have you seen Mr. and/or Mrs. Reid anywhere?" Penelope asked him as she looked around for you. "I looked everywhere for them, but I didn't find them."

"I think I saw them sneaking around behind the reception so I think that you probably-", Derek talked, but Penelope quickly interrupted him.

"Thank you so much, hot chocolate, bye!" She said before she ran off to look for you, not even looking over her shoulder at Derek.

"-shouldn't look for them." Derek finished with a smirk as he lookedat Aaron. "Well... they're busted I tell you what..."

Penelope walked around until she finally reached her destination. She stood there and looked around for you once more before she called out your name. The call of your name was followed by the rustling and extremely quick and quiet whispers. So quiet, she almost missed them.

"Y/N?" she asked as she found herself standing right in front of you. You were leaned against the white cleaning closet, and you seemed to be a little put of breath.

"Oh, hi, Penelope!" you exclaimed, trying to desperately cover the fact that you were out of breath and flushed.

You then noticed that she was probably going to ask you more questions about the fact that your cheeks were burning red and you were out of breath, so you took a deep breath and asked her if she needed anything. A desperate attempt to get her to change the topic.

"Yes!" Penelope smiled at you, "Yes, I did. I just wanted to say "congratulations" once more to Mr. and Mrs. Reid."

"Awww, Pen," you spoke softly, feeling like you're going to cry. "I love you so much."

"I love you to, sweet cheeks," she smiled at you before she suddenly turned serious, standing up straighter. "Now, I know why you are here."

You panicked.

"Y-You do?" you asked her, slowly.

"Yes, I do," she continued, "to get some peace and quiet from the guests and the whole ceremony."

"I-I am!" you felt like you were washed by the wave of relief that went straight through you at what she said. "I just need some peace, yes."

"I knew it!" she pointed her finger at you jokingly before she frowned her eyebrows as she looked around. "But where is Spencer?"

"Oh, he just went to the bathroom." you quickly came up with a lie as you felt yourself get flushed again.

"Oh," Penelope paused before she continued, "Well, I guess I’m going to congratulate him again a bit later than. I'll leave you to it."

You felt yourself freeze once you saw her going in for a hug, her arms wrapped tightly around you. You were a little stiff as you hugged her, but luckily, she didn't even notice.

And with that and a small smile, she walked away.

Once she walked away far enough, you tapped the back of your long dress. "She's gone."

Lifting the back of your dress up, Spencer got up from underneath your dress. You continued to lean against the wall of the cleaning closet as you watched his also flushed cheeks and his hair that was now even messier than it was before.

"Thank God she didn't suspect anything." Spencer said as he ran his hand through his hair, catching his breath.

"Yeah..." you sighed, "... thank God."

"Now," Spencer said as he walked over to you before slowly lowering down on the ground. Right at the spot where he was before Penelope looked for you, "I hope that you didn't think that we are done here."

"I-I... am..." you stuttered as you watched his eyes filled with lust, but also love, as you watched him watch you.

"Lift your dress back up, love."

Call It What You Want | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (singer!reader)

Summary: You lost your reputation, but you gained something so much better.

Warning/s: angst, fluff later on, hostage situation, online bullying, hate comments, stalking, reader has a stalker, famous reader, mentions of guns and knives (light use too), marriage, pregnancy, about babies and birth, in this the song is referred to as Y/N's song (that's not true of course), pet names (pretty boy, gorgeous, love...), also skipped a few parts of the song (sorry)

Author's note: So reader basically entered her Reputation era, but with a happy ending. That's it.

Y/N - your name

Y/L/N - your last name

My castle crumbled overnight

I brought a knife to a gunfight

They took the crown, but it's alright

All the liars are calling me one

Nobody's heard from me for months

I'm doing better than I ever was

The cold breeze of the night in the middle of the giant city as you walked perhaps wasn't doing doing you any favors at all. The coat that you wore wasn't really doing its job. It was supposed to keep you warm during the nights out like this one, but it was anything but. You felt yourself crossing your arms in hopes to pull your coat tighter to yourself so you could gain some warmth, but sadly it wasn't working.

With a disappointed, quiet sigh you swang the bag you had in front of yourself hunting for your keys as you walked along the secured parking lot. You passed a whole lot of cars as you continued to trash through your bad, but not one of those cars was yours.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally reached your car, the sound of your keychain juggling as you tried to get a hold of the key properly.

The whole time you were walking over to your car you felt an overwhelming sensation of the feeling that something, or rather someone, was following your every step. Panic was drowning you as you tried to get into your car as fast as you possibly could.

However, once you finally managed to put the key in due to your shaking hands, you felt a hand covering your mouth. The last thing you heard was your own terrified scream before you drifted into unconsciousness.

°

The coldness of the uncomfortable chair send a million of shivers down your spine. Your head was pounding so much that it started to be unbearable. At that moment you tried to bring your palm onto the side of your head, but you couldn't move your hands. At that moment you noticed the tight rope with which you were tied up in a chair.

You felt a sense of panic wash over you as you pulled against the ropes, but it was no use. It wasn't working like you hoped it would.

Suddenly, though, you heard a sound that you were sure would haunt you forever if you ever got out of there. The laugh of the person that took you hostage.

"Don't worry, my love," The vile man smiled at you. "Now you can finally be mine forever."

It sickened you.

The way he approached you, the way he slowly reached out to you to place his hand on your cheek as he talked to you. You felt like you could throw up at the sight of it alone.

"How- how did you..." your voice trembled as you spoke, trying to hold your ground, but to no use. "Why did you do this?"

"I've been watching you for a while, gorgeous," He said, rubbing circles against your cheek. "You are simply gorgeous, I just had to have a pretty thing like you."

You were terrified because at that moment you realized that it was over. You were never getting out of this. Your stalker would make your life a living hell just because of the way you looked and the fact that you did what you loved since you were a child.

He slowly let go of your cheek as he stepped back, not once breaking the eye contact with you. You couldn't help but let one tear slide down your cheek. It was over for you.

And just as you began to drown in your own sorrows, the door of the basement in which he held you were broken down.

"FBI!" Someone yelled out, the flash of the lights that filled the room were too bright, you couldn't see the FBI agents that entered. "Don't move!"

The guns were held up, surrounding your stalker who was, thankfully, weaponless.

Your head was hurting you even worse than it did before because of the flashing lights, but you had never felt a bigger sense of relief washing over you than at the moment when they forcefully entered and you felt someone moving to you.

"Are you okay, miss?" You turned your head slowly, in fear that your head was going to ache even more. The last thing that you wanted was to faint now.

"Y-Yes," You barely whispered to the man who was untying you as fast as he possibly could. "Thank you."

"Reid!" You heard another man shout, his voice ringing with authority. "Get her our of here now."

Perhaps you were still frozen from the shock, but you didn't know exactly how you suddenly got outside. You were sat down as the paramedics checked over you. Your head was still spinning and everything was hurting you, but it could've been worse.

At that moment, Spencer stood aside watching over you silently. He couldn't help himself. He simply couldn't help but to admire you as the paramedics did their job.

"What's up with you, pretty boy?" Derek came over to him, his voice hinting that he was really for teasing. "You have a crush on our singer, huh?"

"W-What? No, of course not." Spencer felt himself flush and Derek stared to laugh at the genius.

"Really?" Morgan mockingly put his hand on his chest to express that he didn't believe anything that came out of Spencer's mouth. "Because, if I'm being honest, pretty boy, your staring kind of gave it away."

Spencer was growing more red as the seconds passed. He kept quiet up until Derek stopped laughing and looked at him.

"You should ask her out." He suggested.

"I don't know." Spencer whispered so quietly that Morgan almost didn't catch it.

Before Morgan could say anything else the voice of one of the paramedics announced that you were free to go, and Spencer felt himself suddenly walk over to you without even realizing it as Morgan continued to watch with amusement.

"Hey."

You turned around at the sound of Spencer's voice and Spencer felt like his breath was knocked out of his lungs. Your eyes were sparkling brighter than the stars that covered the cold night sky and he felt himself getting flushed again.

"Am... I- I was wondering i-if you would like me t-to take you home." Spencer stuttered a bit as you made eye contact with him, listening to him speaking."

You smiled at him, he was truly, utterly gorgeous. "That's really sweet, but I don't want to bother you."

"Please, it would be a pleasure to make sure you come home safe."

And so, after a while, you accepted his request and made a promise in front of the door of your apartment to keep in touch with the FBI agent who saved your life and will continue to save your life for as long as there is air in his lungs and the stars in his eyes.

'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream

Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to

So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

My baby's fly like a jet stream

High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new

So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

After all that happened to you with your stalker that was now put into prison, you decided to dissappear from the public eye for a while. You yearned for a break that was much needed. But with the break that you publicly announced and a promise to dissappear for a while you had to be more careful.

The trips to the simple places like grocery stores were yet another opportunity to dress up so no one could possibly recognize you. At that time, the number of the baseball caps, and a whole bunch of oversized hoodies, seemed to drastically increase and it continued to do so.

But there was a minor slip-up after 6 months since you disappeared.

It was a surprisingly quiet night. Spencer returned from the case earlier and you decided to take a walk around the town after visiting a local coffee shop.

You were so wrapped up in each other, soaking up every moment you had with each other. Sharing a whole lot of stolen kisses, looks, his hand nested itself on your shoulders, sharing laughter and smiles, eyes spanking. They were full of happiness and utter joy every time you were with him.

What neither of you expected was for Penelope practically tearing down the whole conference room, almost breaking down the door the next day just so she could get to Spencer.

Spencer was sitting at his chair, looking over the files along with everyone else when he found himself being startled as he watched Penelope waving the newest copy of today's newspaper as she practically screamed in excitement.

He was rather confused by her suddenly excitement even though it wasn't unusual for her. But once he saw her slamming the newspaper in the middle of the desk he felt himself getting pale.

Spencer and you made a cover of today's news. The headline, written in overly dramatic big letters with the fine print, read "AFTER 6 MONTH SHE MADE AN APPERCEIVE! FAMOUS SINGER Y/N Y/L/N SEEN WITH A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER!!"

Just below the headline there was a picture of him and you from the night before. His arm was placed over your shoulders, bringing you closer to warm you up and keep you safe. His face was somehow, somewhat, covered by his hair because of the wind that couldn't be contained that night. Your hand was holding his that was slang over your shoulders. Your smile was radiant, your eyes shining as you kept your gaze on him. He couldn't help but smile a little at the photo.

"Explain yourself now, Spencer Reid!" Penelope shrieked, her voice getting higher each second. "What the hell are you doing with freaking Y/N Y/L/N!!"

He started stuttering so much, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation, but his nerves got the best of him. Suddenly, he felt a hand slapping his back sending him forward a bit as Morgan laughed.

"Good for you, pretty boy." Morgan smiled at him, teasingly. "Good for you."

All my flowers grew back as thorns

Windows boarded up after the storm

He built a fire just to keep me warm

All the drama queens taking swings

All the jokers dressin' up as kings

They fade to nothin' when I look at him

Pretty soon a year had passed since the hostage situation which included you being in danger.

A year since you met Spencer, a year of nothing but love and happiness.

Spencer opened the door of his apartment and held it like that so you could get into the apartment before him.

You stepped into the apartment, shaking the snowflakes that stuck to your head on this, quite cold, night in late November. You stood still for a moment, admiring Spencer as he removed his purple scarf before quickly lighting up the fire in the fireplace so that the warmth could spread around your home.

However, you noticed the slight change in his demeanor as you sat yourselfs on the couch near the fireplace. You, however, decided to not say anything because you knew that he would say what he wanted to once he was ready. You didn't want to put more pressure on him, but the plain fact that he was nervous made you extremely so, too.

Finally, Spencer took a deep breath before he turned to you.

"I know that this might seem sudden," Spencer started as he shyly looked into your concerned eyes that watched him talk carefully. "But I feel like I know you for longer than a year. I feel like I've known you my whole life. You complete me in every possible way one person can complete another. You bring immense joy in my life every single day. You show me that life and even people can be good every single day and I believe you despite all of the horrible things I see every day."

You were deeply touched by his confessed, but you were slightly confused because you could quite figure out as to why he was saying all of this to you right now.

"I can't imagine not waking up to you every moment," Spencer confessed, looking longingly into your eyes and you found yourself surprised when the sudden realization that he didn't stutter once drained on you. "I can't imagine seeing you every day, listening to your voice and admiring everything that you do."

Suddenly, he stood up and slowly lowered himself on one knee in front of you. He held out a small box in his hand before he continued to speak. You felt like you couldn't breathe once you realized what was about to happen, what was already happening.

"I simply can not imagine my life without you in it," Spencer continued as tears gathered in your eyes. "Will you make me the happiest man on this planet and marry me?"

"Yes!" You spoke up after you had gotten over your frozen state of shock. "Yes, of course I'll marry you, Spence!" You said, voice full of love as he slipped a beautiful ring onto your finger.

As you sat there by the fire, you knew that you had found the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The snow continued to fall outside, but you knew that nothing could beat the warm feeling in the apartment and in your heart.

And I know I make the same mistakes every time

Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right

I did one thing right

I'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers

Trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right

Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night

Two years flashes by to fast for you to keep up it seemed like.

Spencer and you got married as fast as you possibly could. You love each other more than anything and you were ready so you figured why not do it immediately. The life had been a bliss. And just when it seemed like it couldn't be better you found out that you were pregnant.

Spencer was overjoyed. He always wanted to have children, he always wanted to be a father. And now he could do it with the person he most loved, admired and cared for. He truly felt like passing out the moment he found out. And he did, but would always deny it with a blush glued to his face every time Morgan brought it up to tease him.

The moment your water broke all hell broke loose. Luckily, Spencer was at home so the only thing you had to do was to grab your hospital bag, keys and head to the car. You were 100% prepared for this.

However, you always felt like the moment it happened and it was finally time to go to the hospital you would be the one who would go into a panicked frenzy. So it was safe to say that you were genuinely surprised that once Spencer and you managed to stumble into the car and were on your way, you were the one who had the role of comforting the one who was in panic. Spencer was gripping the wheel so tightly you were scared that he would break it. It would be rather amusing if you weren't in so much pain already.

But after hours of labor and excruciating following hours of birth once you felt limp against the mattress, still holding onto Spencer's hand which you gripped so hard, but he never once complained, bless his heart, everything truly was worth it once you heard the loud yet at the same time soft cries of your baby girl.

Now, as you laid in the bed in another hospital room you couldn't move your eyes away from the sweet sight of Spencer sleeping in the chair right next to your bed with your baby girl in his arms. It was truly the sweetest sight you had ever witnessed. Spencer's messy hair was spread everywhere as his arms tightened around your little bundle of joy, but not to tightly to hurt her. The moment he got her in his arms, he wouldn't let her go. You guessed that he was afraid thay something unexpected would happen even though you gave your best to reassure him.

After hours of sleeping once you woke up, you could fall back asleep for some reason. Not that you complained.

You heard the door open and you turned your head that was still pressed against the pillow on the bed at the direction of the door. It was JJ, trying to enter as quietly as she possibly could while carrying a few cups of coffee.

"How are you, mama?" She whispered softly as he took a seat on another chair on the other side of your bed.

"Still a bit sore, but fine." You gave her a small smile that she softly returned. "I'm just so glad that this happened." You confessed quietly as you looked at JJ.

"I made a lot of mistakes in my life," You said as she listened to your every word. "But having our daughter with him... I know that I did one thing right."

I want to wear his initial

On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck

Not because he owns me

But 'cause he really knows me

Which is more than they can say, I

I recall late November

Holdin' my breath, slowly I said

"You don't need to save me

But would you run away with me?"

Yes (would you run away?)

A few months later another headline was released in many newspapers and magazines. There were a bunch of articles all over internet, too.

The newest addition of the People's magazine was laying on Penelope's dest by her screens. Derek soon enough entered the room with a curious look.

"Hey, baby girl," He greeted as he pressed a kiss on Penelope's cheek, looking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the newest addition of the magazine. "What are you up to?"

"Why hello handsome," she greeted with a smile before she brought the attention back to the magazine. "Look who made the cover."

And sure enough, on the front cover of the magazine, at the very top, there was a headline written with big, capital letters saying: Y/N Y/L/N MARRIED!? THE MUSIC STAR WAS SEEN WITH HER HUSBAND AND HER BABY OUT ON THE WALK FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!!"

Below the dramatic headline there was a picture of Spencer and you holding hands, dressed in warm clothes as you walked around the city on a cold, snowy November night. In front of you there was a stroller in which your daughter, Annie, was in. Your hand was quite visible along with the ring that was clearly a weeding ring. Spencer had his arm around your shoulder, showcasing his ring as well.

On the bottom of the cover there were some other news that were in slightly smaller font. You also released the new song after a long while. The song was called "Call It What You Want" and it said to turn the page 13 for the full lyrics and Derek did just that.

Penelope couldn't help but to let out a screech after she practically showed the magazine in his face. And just as Derek finished reading the lyrics to the song he couldn't help but to smile.

"Good for you, pretty boy," Derek pointed out, happily. "Good for you."

"Give me the magazine back," Penelope excitedly ordered him. "I'm gonna frame this now."

My baby's fit like a daydream

Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to

(Call it what you want, call it what you want, call it)

So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

My baby's fly like a jet stream

High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new

(Call it what you want, call it what you want, call it)

So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

Call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want

To

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Elements AU Headcanons

Basically everything I thought about when creating this au you can read the story here

the normal body temperature of hotch is 113 ° F (45 ° c) this increases or decreases depending on your emotions, so you must be very careful not to burn people, you cannot die of hypertemia, and it is almost impossible If his body temperature drops enough for him to suffer from hypothermia, the man could be in the middle of a snowstorm, and the snow is more likely to melt around him, before he dies from hypothermia

Reid's normal temperature is 56 ° F (15 ° C), this can decrease to below zero degrees and Reid will still be alive, it is impossible for Reid to die of hypothermia, but he can suffer from heat strokes frequently

only 5% of the world's population has fire as an element, and only 6% of the population has ice as an element

morgan and rossi control the land, JJ and Garcia control the water, emily controls the air (Gideon controlled the air and Elle controlled the land)

the cases of arsonists affect hotch too much, because they show him how destructive his element is

most of the time hotch has no idea of ​​the temperature of the day, because basically he lives in a bubble where the temperature is always perfect

haley controls the water and jack the air

Hotch does magic tricks with fire and jack loves them

hotch can not use his element if it is wet, or raining, if it is raining the rain will turn it off, and if hotch is wet he will simply have to wait to close completely to be able to use his element again

Reid cannot use his element if it is very hot, he also needs to be hydrated to be able to use it and have good control of it

hotch can get dehydrated quite quickly

I saw the Greatest showman the other day and it just became my new short-term special interest so after thinking about it a bit I decided to do this post.

I present to you which I think would be the favorite song of each character

Aaron hotchner: There is something that tells me that Jack made him watch the movie and this song stayed in his head for weeks, in the end he added it to his playlist and sings it quietly while doing his paperwork at home also reminds him of Haley

Spencer reid:He simply likes the song because he understands what it is like to feel that you do not fit in with society.

Penelope García: do you want my sincerity? when I was watching the movie and they sang this song I couldn't help but think that Garcia would love this song

Derek morgan:He likes the lyrics although it is very far from what his musical tastes tend to be, he has a space in his playlist

David rossi: I have no idea why but I feel this song would like Rossi I just think he would like the rhythm and then from that he would learn the song by accident

JJ: i just think she and will saw the movie with henry and then one day will put it on and they both ended up dancing an invented vals while laughing

Emily prentiss: secretly he likes to listen to this song while reading a romantic novel on his sofa with Sergio

special mentions

I swear it is not because I love hotchreid but just imagine hotch and spencer recreating this scene I like

I know I gave this song to Morgan but damn it I can't stop thinking about what hotch has the voice to sing this song and what Garcia would ever make him sing it during a karaoke night

I just couldn't leave this song off the list so I just like the idea that the BAU participated in some charity event and they chose to sing this is how reid, hotch and emily ended up singing while the rest helped with effects and scenery.

may or may not have made me a bit sentimental by making this ddit because I'm not ready for when I get to season 15

so I saw a video with this audio on tik tok and a while later I went to Tumblr and found a post about the quarantined bau and then one of them playing video games and this edit came up, it would probably be more fun if there was an English version of the audio but there is not so I took the time to translate what the audio says I hope you enjoy it

I'm bored and for some reason a video of Riverdale appeared on tik tok and I thought, how would the criminal minds team be like the Riverdale characters? So here you have me with my opinion of who would take the place of the other

Hotch = jughgead jones (may be heavily influenced by the fact that they are both my favorite characters)

Morgan = archie andrews (I have no proof, but also no doubts)

JJ = Betty cooper

Emily = veronica lodge

Reid = kevin keller

Rossi = FP jones

Gideon = Sheriff Keller

Elle = cheryl blossom (don't ask why, I don't know either)

A Second Date (Don’t Blame Me: Chapter 9)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Warnings: Typical CM stuff

Words: 4.4k

It was late by the time Emily arrived at her apartment complex. 

She'd been the last to leave, pouring all her attention into digging through the Wood Stalker case files. 

She didn't even realize she'd stayed hours after everyone until the janitor walked into the bullpen and started vacuuming. She took that as her sign to call it a night.

As she waited for the elevator, the bag on her shoulder became heavy. But for the first time in a while, the weight on her shoulders was an object, not a metaphor. The team was finally progressing in the case, closing the steps Y/n had been creating.

The elevator ding pulled Emily from her thoughts as she walked in. It was a quick ride to the fifth floor and an even quicker walk to her door. She pulled her keys from her bag, and as she inserted them into the slot, the door opened before she could even turn it.

Emily's heart dropped, her hand immediately reaching for the gun on her hip. She knew she had locked her door that morning, something she always triple-checked, even after JJ had teased her for it, calling her paranoid. But it was moments like this when she was glad her CIA training still lingered in the back of her head.

She opened her front door as quietly as possible, her gun trained in front of her, before she peered into the apartment. She noted that the hallway lights were off as she stepped in, silently closing the door and placing her bag by the doorway. 

She paused for a moment, attempting to detect any sounds in her apartment, but it was silent, no sound out of the ordinary. So she proceeded to walk through the hallway, staying close to the wall.

The first room she cleared was her small mudroom to the right. No one and nothing was out of place in her living room either. But as she made her way to the kitchen, her nose picked up the scent of... Thai food?

She was quick, with no hesitation or second thoughts as she turned into the kitchen, her gun trained in front of her. Emily practically growled as she realized who was sitting at her kitchen counter.

"Took you long enough. It's rude to keep a lady waiting." Y/n grinned as she turned around on the barstool, her legs crossed over another as she twirled one of Emily's kitchen knives in her hands. 

"Place the weapon on the counter and then put your hands up." Emily glowered as she walked closer to the younger woman, her gun not wavering for a second. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Put your gun down first."

"You know I'm not going to do that."

Y/n sighed as she stood up, and Emily's finger immediately went to rest on the gun trigger. "You are so dramatic." Y/n chuckled as she walked around the counter, putting the knife back into the holder. "And besides, if I were going to kill you, I would have done it already." Y/n smiled, feeling nothing but satisfaction at the tense look on Emily's face.

"I'm not going to tell you again. Put your hands up," Emily said, her jaw clenched as she watched Y/n. 

"Why? You wanna cuff me?" Y/n grinned as she leaned against the counter. "I can't say I'm opposed to that," Y/n continued as her eyes raked over Emily. 

Emily scoffed as she quickly made her way to the other side of the counter; only three feet stood between her and Y/n. "You have ten seconds before-"

"Before what? You shoot me?" Y/n chuckled as she walked closer to Emily, the gun now inches away from Y/n's chest. "I mean, I'm not going to stop you. But when you can't find that friend of yours, Rossi is his name, I believe, then don't blame me." Y/n shrugged, staring Emily right in the eye, not even wavering at the gun that could go off any second.

"What?" Emily blinked, thrown off momentarily as she took in Y/n's words.

"His name is Rossi, right?" Y/n frowned as she tapped her chin. "I didn't have time to ask him, the chloroform took him out pretty quick."

Emily glared at the younger woman. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out if Y/n was bluffing or not. It wouldn't be the first time, but just as the last time, not believing her could come at a risk. And Rossi's life was not something she could gamble. "What did you do to Rossi?" Emily gritted her teeth.

"Ah, so I did get his name right! How funny would it have been if I accidentally got the wrong old guy? I mean, you don't have a shortage of those in the FBI," Y/n mused, reveling in how she was getting under Emily's skin.

"What did you do?" Emily asked again as she took a step closer to Y/n. Her gun was less than an inch away from the younger woman's chest. But Y/n didn't waver; if anything, she looked even more amused. "Well, I waited till he made it to the parking lot and then put a rag of chloroform over his mouth. Honestly, I thought he would put up more of a fight, but I was wrong," Y/n recounted, her eyes gleaming as she strung Emily along.

"Then I hauled his old ass into my car and put him somewhere no one would ever find him. So, you can shoot me if you want, but he only has 12 hours left of oxygen before he dies. Your choice, Emily." Y/n smiled.

Emily studied Y/n for a moment. She knew all of this was a game to Y/n. She wasn't naive enough to think she was getting out of this unscathed. But she had options.

On one hand, Emily could easily shoot Y/n and plead that it was self-defense; the younger woman had broken into her apartment, after all. But on the off chance, Y/n wasn't bluffing and Rossi, the man she looked up to like a father, died because of her... Emily would never be able to forgive herself. 

On the other hand, Emily could play along. And hopefully, distract Y/n for long enough to get the upper hand. It was a reach, but she didn't have any other choice, did she?

So Emily clicked the safety on the gun, slowly lowering it with her glare still trained on the younger woman. "What do you want?" She asked as she put her gun back into its holster. 

"Dinner and a conversation. A second date, if you will." Y/n said simply as she took a step closer to Emily. The agent scoffed, ignoring how Y/n's light perfume filled her senses. "A date. You did all of that for a date?"

Y/n shrugged as she reached her hand out, tucking a loose piece of hair behind Emily's ear. Emily quickly caught Y/n's wrist, holding it tight as she moved it away from her face. A faint smile curled on Y/n's lips as she shrugged off Emily's hand before walking over to the fridge.

"Well, I've never planned a date before, so I'm not familiar with standard etiquette," Y/n said as she pulled out numerous containers of Thai food from Baan Siam, Emily's go-to restaurant. 

Emily scoffed again as she watched Y/n walk to the microwave and start heating the food as if this were her apartment. "I think breaking into your date's apartment and kidnapping their friend is kind of a no-brainer of what not to do on a date," Emily said as she leaned on her counter, her arms crossing over her chest. 

"Good to know. I'll plan accordingly for next time." Y/n winked as she grabbed the steaming food from the microwave. 

While Y/n was occupied, Emily debated on whether or not she could discreetly pull out her phone and send some sort of signal to Hotch. But as if reading her mind, Y/n suddenly appeared in front of Emily, steaming containers of food in her hand. "If I even think you've sent some sort of message to your team, I will not hesitate to slice your pretty neck up." Y/n smiled, her calm tone not at all matching her words.

"How do you know I haven't already?" Emily countered easily. 

She genuinely wasn't worried about Y/n killing her. Hurting her? That was another story. But all Emily had done for the past week was dig into the younger woman's past and learn about her triggers and behaviors. She knew Y/n didn't kill women.

And as long as Y/n was entertained and not trapped, she wouldn't kill Emily. 

Y/n chuckled as she walked around the agent. Bringing the food to the kitchen table and pulling out a seat for Emily. "You must be distracted, Agent Prentiss. Because if you didn't already notice, I jammed your phone signal before you walked in."

Oh, well, Emily hadn't noticed that. This was not off to a good start.

"Well, now that we've gotten all the pleasantries out of the way, please take a seat." Y/n smiled as she motioned to the pulled-out chair. "Derek mentioned that Thai food was your favorite."

"I'll make sure to thank him the next time I see him," Emily mumbled under her breath as she took a seat in the chair Y/n had pulled out for her. The younger woman pushed her chair in, apparently very committed to the whole date thing, before taking the seat next to Emily. 

Emily watched as Y/n loaded her plate, not making a move until Y/n took the first bite.

The younger woman rolled her eyes as she realized what the agent was doing. "I didn't poison the food," Y/n said as she took a bite of the Pad Thai. "Again, if I wanted you dead, I would have done it the second you walked through the door. And besides, death by poison is such a boring way to go, you should have higher standards for yourself."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Emily muttered as she put food on her plate. 

There's a silence before the younger woman speaks again, "So, how was your day?"

Emily looks up from her plate of food with a scoff. "Seriously?" 

"Yes, seriously," Y/n said with a smile as she poked at her food.

Emily fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that the faster she played along, the faster she'd be out of this situation. "It was long, thanks to you."

Y/n laughed as she looked at Emily. "Me or Gideon? I know his stories can get long-winded."

Emily shouldn't have been surprised that Y/n knew Gideon had been to the BAU today. But she couldn't help but feel caught off guard for a second before managing to mask her reaction, "Well, the only reason Gideon came back was because of you."

"You're not too fond of him, are you?" Y/n said with an eyebrow raised as she studied the agent in front of her. 

"You could say that," Emily shrugged.

"Yet... you're fond of Rossi?" Y/n observed, and Emily hated the way her eyes practically bored through her. "What are you trying to get at?" Emily frowned at the younger woman.

Y/n chuckled as she put more food on her plate. "Nothing. Just probing to see how far Gideon got on his side of the story."

Emily knew it was a baited statement. And she wanted to ignore it; she did. She knew anything Y/n told her had to be taken with a grain of salt. But she also knew that there was undeniable tension between the two older men, something having gone on way before anyone else joined the team. 

"You can ask. I know you're dying too." Y/n smirked, pulling Emily from her thoughts.

"And trust what you'll say over them? Over my dead body." Emily said, even though she wanted to ask, she wasn't about to give the upper hand. And besides, she knew this was Y/n's tactic, to make the team distrust each other and lose sight of the actual goal, apprehending Y/n.

"You're loss, darling. Just know that digging into the past isn't always pretty." Y/n shrugged, and again, Emily fought the urge to roll her eyes at another ominous yet vague statement from the younger woman. "That's rich coming from you."

Y/n just chuckled, and if Emily was trying to get under her skin, it wasn't working. "And not you? I'm sure you have some skeletons in your closet, darling. And wouldn't it be oh-so-fun to dig them up?"

Emily gritted her teeth. Logically, she knew her time at the CIA was classified. And Y/n hadn't shown any Garcia-level hacking abilities. So, she knew the threat was just a blanket statement, but she couldn't help but wonder what she would do if Y/n had that information to hold over her. 

"Geez, you are such a worrier," Y/n chuckled as she noted the stern expression on Emily's face. "No need to fret, I won't dig unless I have to. I prefer things to come naturally."

"You're deluded if you think I would willingly tell you anything about me," Emily said seriously.

"Well then, I guess it's a great day to be a psychopath."

Emily let out a huff. She'd walked right into that one, hadn't she?

"Okay, just tell me what you want," Emily said as she put down her fork. She'd tried to play along, and she lasted a good 5 minutes before wanting to pull her gun out. "You're here for more than just a date."

"And here I thought we were getting somewhere." Y/n sighed dramatically as she leaned back in her chair. "I was bored."

Emily blinked. "What?"

"You and your team have been taking so long-

"It's only been a week!"

"And I've left you two bodies and a gift!" 

Emily shook her head, fighting the urge to rub the headache out of her temples. "I don't understand. You went years without being on anyone's radar. Why are you giving us the chance to catch you?"

Y/n hummed as her fingers tapped on the table. "First of all, I'm not giving you a chance to catch me. Secondly, I have no elaborate scheme or endgame," Y/n said in air quotes, "to explain why I put myself on your team's radar. I simply saw a beautiful woman at a coffee shop and had to have her. Call it the romantic in me."

Emily couldn't even process what she heard as the younger woman winked at her. "The only romance you're capable of is a self-serving one." Emily shook her head. 

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. You're not the first psychopath I've encountered, and you won't be the last."

Y/n just smiled as she wet her bottom lip. "What if I want to be the last?" She said as she stood up, watching how Emily's hard eyes never left hers. The younger woman slowly approached Emily, standing a couple of inches away from her as she used her foot to scoot the Agent's chair toward her. 

"You won't," Emily said as she stared up at the other woman. 

"How can you be so sure?" Y/n asked as she knocked Emily's right knee with her own.

"Because you're not as special as you think you are," Emily said, and if she was trying to get a rise out of the Y/n, it was failing by the way Y/n's small turned upward.

"I don't know..." Y/n started as she gracefully draped herself in Emily's lap. Her weight was placed on Emily's right leg as her arm snaked around Emily's neck. The agent unconsciously held her breath as Y/N's hand rested on her lower neck. Emily's hands were clenched by her side as she fought the urge to shove the younger woman off of her. 

"I felt pretty special when you kissed me back in the bar." Y/n smiled, her breath hot against Emily's ear.

Emily refused to show any emotion as she stared straight ahead. She pretended she couldn't feel Y/n playing with the baby hairs on her neck or the way Y/n's lips had grazed her ear.

"When you pinned me against the wall in the bathroom." Y/n continued as her other hand splayed against Emily's torso. 

Emily turned her head, her face now inches away from the younger woman as she looked her dead in the eye, "I was doing my job."

Y/n just chuckled as she leaned closer, the tip of her nose almost brushing Emily's. "Was it part of your job to enjoy it?"

"It's part of my job to make it believable. Don't flatter yourself." Emily shot back, and Y/n just laughed as she brought her hand up from Emily's stomach to rest softly on the older woman's cheek. "You keep telling yourself that."

Emily immediately pulled the younger woman's hand off her cheek. "You can keep telling yourself that this," Emily said as she dug her dull nails into Y/n's palm and moved their hands back and forth, gesturing between them, "Means something. But really, you'll just end up being another tally in the number of people I've put behind bars."

For the first time that night, Y/n was silent. And honestly, the silence was more unsettling than anything the younger woman had said. Emily couldn't tell if Y/n was about to choke the life out of her or break into deranged laughter. 

But instead of doing any of that, the younger woman just sighed with a small pout on her lips, "I see we're still not on the same page."

"You think?!" Emily yelled before she could control her mouth.

"Okay," Y/n nodded as she squeezed Emily's hand softly before untangling it from the older woman's grip. Honestly, Emily hadn't even noticed she was still gripping onto Y/n's hand.

"Okay?" Emily repeated back as Y/n got off of her lap and went to sit back down in her seat. 

"I acknowledge that you want to take things slower," Y/n said with a smile as she leaned back in her chair.

"That is not what I said," Emily said incredulously. 

"And I'm completely fine with taking this at your speed."

"There is no speed at which I would do anything with you," Emily said pointedly.

"They say the first stage is denial," Y/n said as she started to gather the takeout containers on the table. 

"Of grief. Denial is the first stage of grief." Emily corrected as she watched the younger woman flow seamlessly through her kitchen, putting all of the containers back in her fridge. 

"Love...grief... you can't have one without the other," Y/n said as she returned to the table to collect the plates.

When Y/n reached for Emily's plate, the agent quickly stood up, grabbing the younger woman's wrist tightly before she could touch it. "And how would you know? You don't have the emotional capacity to experience either of them, " Emily said in a low voice.

Y/n rolled her eyes, "Says who?"

"The person who has spent the last week digging through your life. The second my team and I are no longer a challenge, you'll get bored and move on. You're textbook, you're not special, and you're not capable of being in a relationship of any kind." Emily answered back easily as she stared at Y/n. She hadn't even realized how close they were until she saw Y/n's eyelashes flutter and a small smile curl on her lips.

"How did you know degradation was my kinda foreplay?" Y/n smirked, and Emily scoffed as she dropped Y/n's wrist and took a step back.

Honestly, Emily was at a loss for what to do. Nothing she said or did seemed to faze Y/n at all. She thought she could find what made the younger woman tick, find a way to throw her off balance. But so far, she'd found nothing, and it was not working to her advantage.

Although... she did have one advantage over the other woman.

Emily quickly reached for her gun, clicking off the safety as she pointed right at Y/n's forehead. The younger woman's smirk turned into an eye roll as she crossed her arms, but made no action to move away. "Dramatic much?"

Emily scoffed as she held the gun steady, "You kidnapped my friend and broke into my apartment because you were bored."

Y/n just shrugged.

"Unless... you didn't kidnap Rossi. And all of this," Emily said as she waved her gun around, "Has been a waste of my time."

"Time spent with me is never a waste." Y/n countered back, but all she was met with was a cold glare from Emily.

Y/n sighed when she realized Emily wasn't going to say anything, "May I reach into my pocket without you blowing my brains out, Agent Prentiss?"

"Depends."

"I'm just grabbing my phone, nothing scandalous. Unless you want it to be," Y/n said smoothly as she reached into her back pocket for her phone. Emily didn't entertain her with a response as she watched the woman unlock her phone and scroll for a bit.

When she turned her phone around, Emily was met with a sight of a video. 

Not a video, as Emily observed closely. It seemed to be live streaming, and in the center of it was none other than an unconscious David Rossi in an unrecognizable, dark room. 

"See? You know, I'm kind of offended that you thought I was lying about kidnapping him." Y/n said as she pocketed her phone once again. 

"Where is he?" Emily gritted out.

"Some place only the two of us know about," Y/n said wistfully, and Emily couldn't get a read on her. 

The 'two of us' she was referring to had to be about Y/n and Rossi.

But Rossi didn't even know Y/n existed until this case... right?

"I can see the cogs turning in your brain, darling." Y/n taunted, "Ask me, I know you want to."

No, Emily was not going to ask her. She was going to get this information out of Rossi first, if there was even anything to know. 

"Tell me where he is," Emily repeated.

"What if I don't want to?" Y/n said with a sly smile.

"Then I'm going to pull this trigger and find him myself."

Y/n chuckled as she took a step closer to the gun, bending down slightly so the gun could rest in the middle of her forehead. "Do it then,"

Emily bit the inside of her cheek. Wow, Y/n really was insane.

"That's what I thought, all talk and no play," Y/n smiled as she stared up at Emily.

"Now, here's what's going to happen," Y/n said as she got up from her slightly crouched position and made her way back to the table to grab the plates, "I'm going to wash the dishes, because how awful of a date would I be if left you a mess to clean up?!" 

"I'm pretty sure you made it into awful date territory when you, again, kidnapped my friend and broke into my apartment." Emily felt like a broken record as she followed the younger woman to the kitchen sink, her gun still raised, but that didn't seem to faze Y/n at all. 

"Okay, I get it. Already noted it for next time. No need to keep dredging up the past." Y/n said over her shoulder as she turned the sink on and grabbed the sponge. 

Emily didn't know why it was the sight of Y/n scrubbing her plates that set her off. Y/n had done so many things in the last hour, but maybe it was Emily's exhaustion or the sound of soap squeaking that had gotten on her final nerve.

"Stop washing my fucking dishes and tell me where Rossi is!" Emily yelled as she closed the distance between her and the sink. Her shoulder knocked into Y/n as she reached across and turned the water off. 

"Okay, geez. No need to raise your voice, darling." Y/n chastised as she reached for the towel on the counter to dry her hands.

"Then give me the address, I'm done playing games," Emily said as she waved her gun at the younger woman.

"Fine," Y/n sighed, "But you don't get to hold these dirty dishes over me, I was more than willing to clean them," Y/n said seriously. 

"Ah, yes, because leaving dirty dishes in my sink is the worst crime you've committed," Emily scoffed.

Y/n just shrugged, and Emily slammed the gun down on the counter, "Rossi," She said, one word, but it was enough to get them back on topic.

"Okay," Y/n surrendered, as she dramatically put her hands in the air. "I'll send you the address after I walk out of your apartment."

Emily shook her head, "Not a chance in hell."

Y/n just laughed as she leaned against the counter, "Then I'm not sending you the address, darling. There's only one good outcome here, and it doesn't end with me in an interrogation room."

"You think I'm just going to let you go?" 

"I don't think, I know," Y/n said as she pushed off the counter and took a step closer to Emily. "Because just like you've been studying me, I've been studying you." Y/n continued, eyeing the other woman as Emily glared at her.

"Your loyalty is your biggest weakness, and you would go to any lengths to keep those you love safe. You look up to Rossi like a father, probably because your actual father-"

"Don't," Emily gritted, and Y/n just raised an eyebrow. "Fine. But you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if anything happened to him. So, you're going to let me go because you know I don't kill mostly innocent men. But if I'm locked up in an interrogation room, then I couldn't care less if David Rossi dies.... So what's it going to be, darling?" Y/n said, and if Emily could shoot the smirk off of the younger woman's face, she would.

Because Y/n had won, and there was no solution or outcome where she didn't. Y/n understood Emily just as much as she understood the younger woman. And Emily knew Y/n was telling the truth; if she brought Y/n in, she was signing Rossi's death sentence. The team didn't know enough about Y/n's past to find Rossi, and Y/n was playing on that. 

Emily didn't want to give. She didn't want to accept defeat, didn't want to lose to Y/n again. But what other choice did she have? She would not gamble Rossi's life or anyone on the team.

"Fine," Emily said through her teeth as she clicked the safety on the gun and put it back in the holster on her belt. "But don't think this is the end," Emily threatened, although it held no weight if the smile on Y/n's face was any indicator.  

"Oh, this is just the beginning," Y/n smiled as she walked up to Emily, planting a soft kiss on the older woman's cheek. She reveled in the way Emily didn't tense or flinch like she had earlier.

"I'll send you the address once I get to my car. I assume Garcia will be getting the message, too, since you don't understand privacy anymore." Y/n pouted as she walked to the door. Emily had to force herself to stay put and do nothing as Y/n walked away. 

"I'll see you soon, darling," And with that, Y/n was out the door. 

Taglist: @laanswife @gh0sstss @unoreverselu @unexpected-character @leftoverenvy

Diners and Milkshakes (Don't Blame Me: Chapter 8)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse and other typical CM stuff

Words: 4.3k

"Because your unsub, Y/n, is the daughter of the Wood Stalker."

"I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Derek said as the team took in the new information Gideon had given them. 

Emily frowned as she took in Derek's blunt words, "Well, she had the genetic and environmental influences of a psychopath for eight years," Emily said. She was far from Y/n's biggest fan. She probably hated her more than anyone in this room. But that didn't mean she couldn't sympathize with the little girl that Y/n was. 

"Did she even stand a chance at a normal life?" JJ asked, subconsciously wrapping her hands around her midsection. She didn't know why she felt different about this case. This wasn't the first time one of their unsubs had been a child of a murderer. Maybe it was because she was about to be a mother herself, and she couldn't imagine a world where her future child would be put into a situation like that.

Gideon shrugged, "Jill and I tried our best. We got her into therapy, but since she had no living relatives, she went into the system."

"You pulled Jill onto the case?" Rossi asked, surprise flooding his features. Emily felt like she was missing something as she watched the two older men communicating silently. "Who's Jill?" Emily asked.

"Jason's Ex-wife," Rossi said, his jaw tight. Emily could feel the tension rising in the room again. She looked over to JJ, knowing the blonde may know more since she had been on the team longer. But JJ just shrugged, also at a loss about the past being discussed.

"I brought Jill onto the case because she is the best Biological Psychiatrist in the country. She was the only one who could help Y/n," Gideon explained calmly, not trying to add fuel to an already raging fire.

"So, was Y/n her patient? Or one of her experiments?" Rossi asked as he leaned back into his chair. 

Emily's eyes widened as she looked at Hotch, wondering when he would step in and save them from whatever this argument was. Luckily, Hotch was on the same page. "Can you tell us about the first time you met Y/n?" the unit chief asked, hoping to get them back on track. 

Gideon nodded, "Yeah, it was the day after Alex Painter was killed,"

𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟐𝟔, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟏 

𝐍𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐲, 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚

Gideon sighed as he poured another crappy cup of coffee from the police department's machine. It was another earlier morning after a late night, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could stay on the case. 

He knew the brass was about to pull him off the case and send in another unit. The BAU was still fairly new, and while they had gotten results, this case wasn't. Five dead women and not a single lead so far. But Gideon didn't care about the reputation he was tarnishing; he wanted to find whoever was killing these women and give justice to their families. 

That was always what he'd been about. He didn't care about politics and how people viewed the BAU, unlike his partner David Rossi, but rather that justice was being served and trying to make the world a safer place. At least, that had been the goal.

"Agent Gideon, a couple of hikers called in and said they saw a body." Sheriff Russell sighed as she walked up to the agent. 

Gideon sighed as he massaged his temples. "Same timeline has to be our guy."  He said as he stood up and grabbed his coat. 

"That's what I was thinking. I sent a couple of cops who were close to the scene to go check it out. Told them we'd meet them there." She said as they walked outside and got into the cop car.

It was another thirty minutes before they arrived at the scene. Gideon walked up to the body and noted that the woman looked the same as their previous victims. "Did we have an ID?" He asked.

Sherriff Russell nodded as she crouched down beside him, "Alex Painter, 27, she was here visiting family."

Gideon nodded as he took in the information. But as he studied the body he couldn't help but notice the lack of strangulation marks that appeared on all the other victims. "Did the coroner figure out COD?"

"Yeah, blunt force trauma to the head," Russell said as she stood up, "Are we sure this is our guy? I mean, why would he deviate from his MO? I thought you said the strangulation was key in his killing."

"No, this is our guy," Gideon said immediately.  "Everything else is the same. If we can figure out what made her different, we'll be closer to catching him." He finished as he stood up. He finally felt like they were making leeway with the case, but unfortunately, that was at the cost of another young woman's life.

Russell was about to make another comment when they heard a branch snap to their right, followed by a small gasp. The three cops on the scene immediately pulled their guns out, but Gideon silently ordered them to holster.

"Hello?" Gideon asked as they walked closer to where the branch snapped. "Is anyone there?" He continued with his arms out to the side non threateningly. He knew it was a child, the gasp light and high-pitched in a way only a child could make. 

As he walked closer, he saw small feet peeking from behind a tree. "I'm with the police. I'm not going to hurt you." He said calmly, not approaching any further, wanting the child to come out from behind the tree on their own time. 

He saw the feet move again so that they were hidden behind the tree. "What's your name?" Gideon asked as he began to sit on the ground. His knees protested as he made it down. But he needed to appear as least threatening as possible, and if that's how he could do it, then so be it. 

When he heard no answer, he decided to keep talking, "My name's Jason. But everyone always calls me by my last name, Gideon." He continued talking for another five minutes, talking about everything and anything. 

Gideon was beginning to give up hope about the child coming out from behind the trees on their own when he saw the corner of the child's face poking out from behind the tree. Gideon smiled and continued talking, not wanting to make a big deal of it and scare the child away. 

It took another five minutes for the child's entire face to emerge from behind the tree. Gideon observed that the child was a little girl with long, unruly hair that seemed like it hadn't been brushed in a while. She had dirt on her face and a swollen right eye.

"Hi there, what's your name?" Gideon asked again but the little girl just stared at him.

"That's okay. You don't have to tell me your name, but I do want to talk to you. How does a  milkshake sound?" Gideon asked, hoping to break through to the little girl. 

The girl still stared at him blankly, not indicating that she even understood what the agent was saying. "Or we could have whatever you like. What's your favorite food?" Gideon asked, hoping to get a little engagement from the girl at least. 

And finally, the little girl stepped all the way out from the tree. Her eyes filled with hesitation as she shrugged at Gideon's question. The agent noticed her tattered clothing. Her small cargo pants had a hole at the knee and her long-sleeved t-shirt was also muddy. 

Gideon found it odd that she was wearing all black. She didn't look older than six or seven and most of the kids he met were always wearing something colorful. It made him wonder if it was by choice or not.

"I don't have a favorite food either." Gideon continued "Have you ever had a milkshake before?" He asked.

The little girl slowly shook her head as she studied the man in front of her. 

"Would you like to try one?" Gideon asked.

The girl didn't say anything as her gaze diverted from Gideon for the first time to the people behind him. She saw the cops a couple of yards away from them, all of them with their hands on the gun holstered to their hips. 

She pointed to them, causing Gideon to turn around. "It's okay, they're not going to hurt you," Gideon said softly. "They work with me, but they don't have to come with us. Just you and me. How does that sound?" He asked. 

Gideon watched closely as the girl turned around and looked into the woods for a second before turning to him and nodding cautiously. He wondered if someone else was back there and made a note for the sheriff to look into it. He didn't want to jeopardize the progress he made by asking the girl.

He slowly stood up, ignoring the way his knees cracked, and told the little girl to follow him. Luckily the police understood the gravity of the situation and stayed back, letting the FBI agent handle it.

"Do your parents know where you are?" Gideon asked as the girl walked closer to him. She blinked at him and Gideon thought she was about to speak before she just shrugged.

"Okay," He said simply, making another note to tell the Sheriff to figure out who this girl's parents were. 

They walked silently to the car. The little girl was a couple of steps behind Gideon the whole time. The agent winced every time the girl took a step on a branch. He wondered if it hurt her bare feet, but the girl was showing no indication if it did. He wondered if it was a learned response or if it just didn't hurt.

"Well, this is the car," Gideon said as he pointed to the old car. "Do you want to ride up front?" He asked, and again the girl just shrugged. Instead of asking more questions, he just walked to the other side of the car, surprised that the girl was following him.

He opened the passenger door, motioning for the girl to hop up and she did with surprising ease. "Buckle up." He smiled as he closed the door and got in on the driver's side. As he started the engine he turned to the girl and saw that the seatbelt was untouched. 

He kind of wanted to let it go, but then again, it was ill-advised to have a child that young in the passenger seat, so he had to do something. "Do you need help?" He asked.

She nodded slowly and Gideon didn't miss the way she flinched as he reached across her. She was still as a statue until the buckle clicked and then she let out the breath she'd been holding. 

It was a quiet drive to the small diner on the side of the road. He knew it was protocol to take her back to the police station, but he had a feeling he'd get more answers in a friendlier environment. In all honesty, he was surprised she'd even gotten into the car with him.

Luckily the Sheriff had been a step ahead of him and had already sent the cops to comb through the woods around them, as well as contacting a social worker to meet them back at the station when they were done. 

On the other side of the car, the girl stared out the window the whole time, her eyes barely reaching it due to her height. 

When they finally reached the diner, Gideon was glad to see it was mostly empty. He quickly turned off the car and hopped out to open the passenger door. He saw the girl pulling at her seatbelt and now Gideon was wondering if she had ever used one before. 

"You want me to do?" He asked, not wanting to go anywhere near the girl without asking first. Reluctantly she nodded and then hopped out of the car as soon as she was free.

"Jason? Back already?" The waitress chuckled as soon as they walked in the door.

"You know I can't resist your strawberry milkshakes." Gideon smiled as he stayed by the door, letting the girl take in everything before moving to a booth.

"Well, who's this?" The waitress, Wanda, as her name tag indicated, asked.

As soon as the girl realized Wanda was talking about her, she went to hide behind Gideon's legs.

"A new friend of mine," Gideon said simply. "Could we take the booth by the back?" He asked and Wanda smiled, taking the situation in stride as she set the booth up and walked away, not wanting to scare the girl anymore. 

They slowly made their way to the booth, Gideon sitting on one side and the girl on the other. The girl sat there, staring at the menu, but Gideon could tell she was reading it as her eyes went back and forth.

"I always get the Strawberry milkshake," Gideon said, breaking the silence. "But you can get whatever sounds good to you. There's chocolate, vanilla-" Gideon continued before the girl pointed at the menu.

Gideon leaned over and saw what she was pointing at. "You want a Banana Milkshake?" He asked, and she nodded her head. "Good choice." He smiled as he got up to order, but never took his eye off her. Not that it mattered, she stayed in her seat staring out the window the whole time. 

"So I told you I'm with the cops, right?" Gideon asked as he slid into his seat. The girl turned away from the window and nodded. 

"I'm actually an FBI agent. Do you know what that is?" He asked kindly. 

The girl shook her head. 

"It means that I look for bad people and catch them so they don't hurt people," Gideon said simply, "And right now, I'm looking for a really bad man. And I think you might be able to help me."

The girl's eyes widened, and she looked down at the table. If Gideon hadn't thought she knew something before, he knew that she did now. 

"I promise you won't get in trouble. All you have to do is talk to me." He continued, but the girl immediately shook her head, her wild hair flying back and forth. Gideon was surprised by the reaction; it was the most emotion he'd seen all day. 

"Why can't you talk to me?" He asked. He watched the little girl look around the diner; he wondered what she was looking for until she pointed at the pen on the counter across from them. "Do you want to write?" He asked as he stood up and grabbed the pen.

The girl nodded, and Gideon immediately grabbed the notepad out of his coat pocket. He handed both items to the girl and was surprised to see how quickly she began to write. 

After she was done, she handed over the notepad. 

𝙄𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨

Gideon frowned as he read the words. "Talking is against the rules?" He asked for clarification, and the girl nodded. "Well, do you want to know a secret?" Gideon asked conspiratorially as he leaned in closer, his eyes widened, animatedly. The girl nodded hesitantly.

"The rules don't count in this diner." He smiled, and the girl looked at him skeptically. So Gideon had to double down. "So if I wanted to stand on the table," Gideo said as he stood up and climbed from the booth chair onto the table, "I can do whatever I want." He smiled, thankful for the way the other patrons were ignoring him. 

He felt ridiculous standing on the table, but when the girl let out a toothy smile, he couldn't help but smile back. It was the first smile he'd seen from her, and he finally felt like he was getting somewhere. "See? No rules." He said as he carefully got off the table and sat back down.

"Okay," The girl said, and Gideon smiled again. Her voice was hoarse and soft at the same time. It made Gideon think that she hadn't been allowed to talk for a very long time. 

"Okay," Gideon repeated, "How come you were in the woods?"

The girl looked around the diner before scooting closer, "I got us in trouble."

"Us?" Gideon asked.

The girl nodded as she looked back down at the table, "Me and Alex." she whispered.

"You know Alex?" Gideon asked calmly, not showing any shock or surprise on his face. The girl nodded again, not saying anything else, so Gideon continued asking the questions. "How do you know Alex?"

The girl shrugged again, but the way her eyes flickered to Gideon and then back to the table indicated to the profiler that she knew more than she was revealing. 

"You can tell me anything; I promise you won't get in trouble with me," Gideon said softly.

The girl hesitated but finally gave in, "She was staying with us. She was my daddy's friend."

Oh.

Oh...

Another piece of the puzzle coming together. But Gideon hadn't been expecting this. The thought of the unsub being a father hadn't even crossed his mind. But now he was sitting across from The Wood Stalker's daughter, and he wondered if she knew what her father was doing.

"Your dad?" Gideon asked. "Does he have a lot of friends?"

"Yeah, I never get to meet them though." She said as she swung her feet, her heels tapping against the booth. 

"How come you met Alex then?" 

"I didn't mean to. I was thirsty, and I went to the kitchen after bedtime, and- and Alex was sitting at the table." She answered, her eyes skittering around anxiously. "And then daddy saw me and he got really mad."

"Is that how you got that?" Gideon asked as he pointed to the girl's black eye. She nodded as she slumped back to her seat, "I was being bad,"

Gideon felt his heart pang. He'd worked with a lot of children in his field, but it never got easier. "You weren't being bad, you were just thirsty." He said kindly. The girl just shrugged so Gideon decided to move on, "Did you see Alex after that?"

The little girl looked around the diner again as if she was making sure no one else was listening to them, "Yeah..." She trailed off but Gideon gave her an encouraging nod to keep going.

"She looked really sad when I saw her, so I waited until I heard daddy go to sleep, and then I snuck out to the basement to see her."

"Is that where all of your daddy's friends stay?" Gideon asked.

"Mhm. I'm not 'sposed to go down there but- but she looked really sad. So I stole Daddy's key and opened the door. But Alex was on the ground and- and I kept shaking her shoulders, but she was still sleeping." The girl continued.

"Did you see anything while you were down there?"

The girl shook her head, "It was dark and I couldn't reach the light switch..." She trailed off again.

Gideon watched the way the girl squirmed in her chair and decided to take a break. "You're doing a really good job, kid. Why don't I go check on our milkshakes?" He asked and smiled when she nodded in agreement. 

He walked over to the counter where Wanda was putting in another order. "I'll have your shakes out in a sec." She said as she walked toward Gideon.

"Thanks," Gideon said offhandedly as he watched the little girl.

"You know, you really oughta put some shoes on that girl," Wanda said with a knowing look.

Gideon chuckled as he shook his head, "Would you believe me if I said that would be the least of her worries?"

"I wish I didn't. Poor thing. How 'bout I add extra whip cream to her shake?" Wanda suggested and Gideon nodded at the sentiment.

It was only a minute later when Gideon carried the milkshakes back to the booth, presenting the massive shake to the girl. She eyed it suspiciously, waiting for Gideon to eat a spoonful of his before hesitantly reaching for her spoon. 

Gideon's heart warmed as he watched her eyes light up after the first bite. 

"Good?" He chuckled, although the pace she was devouring the shake at should have told him enough. 

"Mhm!" She smiled, and for the first time the little girl actually looked like a kid. 

They ate in relative silence, and Gideon noticed how the girl's smile never left her face. He knew he was stalling, but he wanted her to enjoy this moment, this brief instance of peace and childlike joy, before her whole world changed forever.

And maybe that was a good thing, scratch that, it would be a good thing. Taking her out of the hands of a serial killer was good. But Gideon knew the system and the protocols of evasive questions that lay in her future, and if he could just give her five minutes of calm, then he was going to do that. 

"Thank you for the milkshake, Mr. Gideon." The girl said after she took her last bite. Her stomach full and satisfied for probably the first time she could ever remember. 

"You're very welcome. Are you ready to keep going?"

The girl nodded as she brushed her hair behind her ears. 

"So what did you do when you couldn't wake Alex up?" Gideon asked, getting right back into it. 

"I waited. And then after a really long time I heard her start to get up. I think she was scared when she saw me, but then she was happy and said I could help her."

"How did you help her?" Gideon questioned. 

"She said I could help her go back to her family. And she was sad cause she missed them. Daddy said she was too sick to go see them, but Alex told me she wasn't sick anymore."

"Did you help her get out of the basement?"

"Mhm. But she said we had to be quiet. And I tried to be quiet, really quiet but I couldn't." The girl said quietly as she brought her thumb to her mouth, biting at her nails anxiously. 

Gideon gave her a sympathetic look, "Did your daddy find you?"

"Yeah, and he was really really mad. He told me to go back to my room and I did. But then he came back and made me go to the basement where Alex was. It looked like she was sleeping again, but there was blood all over the floor. He said it was my fault that Alex had to go away. And then he handed me the hammer and told me I had to do it." 

Gideon didn't have to ask what he made her do. "It wasn't your fault," He said softly, and the girl shook her head, "Yes, it was, it always is cause I'm bad." She said, her lip quivering.

"You are not bad, your dad is the bad one." He reiterated and wasn't surprised when she shook her head again. Years of trauma were not going to be broken by a couple of words, but Gideon's heart still felt heavy.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" The girl asked quietly, pulling Gideon out of his thoughts.

"Of course." He said as he got out of the booth and walked the girl to the corner of the diner. He stood outside the bathroom and checked his phone, flipping it open to see that the Sheriff had turned up empty on both the wood search and figuring out who this girl was. 

He sighed as he pocketed his phone, but at least he'd found the girl and could take her somewhere safe.

He waited by the door for another five minutes before he started to get concerned, "You okay in there?" He called out as he knocked on the door.

No response.

"Kid?" He knocked again, his heart rate picking up as he was met with silence.

He quickly threw the door open, ready to deal with the consequences later, when he saw the small window in the bathroom was open.

"No," He gasped, his heart dropping.

"No, no, no, no!" He yelled as he threw open every stall and came up empty.

"Fuck!" He cursed as he ran out of the bathroom, throwing a twenty on the table as he raced to his car.

The police department searched for days, every available officer deployed throughout the county, but they turned up empty.

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐲

"Did she leave by herself or did her dad take her?" Derek asked after Gideon had finished the story of his initial encounter with Y/n.

Gideon shrugged, "To this day I still don't know."

"Well, when did you find her?" Emily asked, feeling uneasy.

"A year later, after she called in about her dad. But a lot happened from when I first met her to that day. She wouldn't speak to anyone for two months, that's why I called Jill in, she was the one that got her to open up." Gideon sighed as he ran his hands through his short hair. 

He was still trying to figure out how that little girl had turned into the unsub his former team was trying to catch. And although he knew it wasn't his fault, it felt a little like it was. 

"How closely did Jill work with her?" Hotch asked.

"Closely. If you call her, I'm sure she'll be happy to talk to you guys," Gideon answered.

"I'm sure she will," Rossi muttered under her breath and Emily glanced between the older men again, wondering for the fifth time about what this feud was about. But she already had too much on her plate, Y/n was enough to worry about, so she could snoop later.

"Garcia, did you have any luck contacting the author Y/n writes for?" Hotch asked, changing routes, to hopefully keep things civil for as long as possible.

Penelope nodded as she opened her laptop, "She's currently in Colorado but said she'll be back in DC by the end of the week. She said she'd be happy to answer any questions we have."

"Good. Prentiss and Morgan, I want you on that. But for now, let's rebuild Y/ns profile with the information we have now." Hotch said, and the team nodded in agreement

For the first time, Emily felt like they were actually getting somewhere. 

A/N: this chapter kind of got away from me but oh well! I promise there’s more Y/n and Emily interactions next chapter! ;)

Taglist: @laanswife @gh0sstss @unoreverselu @unexpected-character

A Special Gift (Don't Blame Me: Chapter 7)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Warnings: Typical Criminal Minds stuff

Words: 3.2k

EMILY WAS the first to arrive at Howard Barnes's apartment. She waited outside the door with her gun in her holster. Hotch had given her clear instructions to wait for SWAT and the rest of the team.

Emily had planned to wait, but when Hotch felt the need to reiterate it, she couldn't shake the feeling that she might be in serious trouble with her boss. 

Was it deserved? Probably.

But as long they caught Y/n, Emily couldn't care less about the consequences that came her way from doing so. 

"Geez, you got here quick," JJ panted as she jogged over to Emily. The three flights of stairs were enough to make her break a sweat, something that had never happened before she'd gotten pregnant.

"It was only ten minutes away from my apartment," Emily started as she turned to her friend, but was taken aback when she saw a deep gash from JJ's forehead to her eyebrow. A bandaid covers most of the cut. "Oh god. What happened, JJ?" Emily asked as her finger hovered over the bandaid, blood starting to seep through the fabric.

JJ quickly pushed away Emily's worried hands, "I was putting away the dishes and accidentally dropped a plate on my face while reaching for the top cabinet. I'm fine, Em, I didn't have time to glue it." JJ said softly.

"Okay," Emily nodded skeptically, "I have some medical glue in the car, I'll fix it after we're done here," Emily said, and JJ just nodded silently. Emily wanted to ask more, but she could hear the rest of the team from down the hallway, so she decided to save her questions for later. 

The SWAT team came, and when they cleared the apartment, they let the BAU in.

"Howard Barnes, a 28-year-old science teacher at Saint Luther High School." Penelope relayed on the phone from her lair at Quantico.

"Well, it was Y/n," Derek crouched down by the body, "Single gunshot to the head and the angel wing," Derek continued. 

Spencer was crouched next to Derek, noting the body's warmth and lack of rigor mortis,  "Time of death had to have been less than an hour ago," Spencer added.

"Damn, we were close. Did the neighbors call it in?" Rossi asked Hotch. 

Emily looked up from the body and saw Hotch staring at her blankly. And honestly, that look was scarier than his usual frown.

"I called it in. I was on the phone with Y/n when she shot him." Emily said, earning a resounding "What?!" from everyone.

"Why do you still have her number?" Derek asked.

"Why would she call you?" Spencer added.

"I'll explain later. Can we focus on the case, please?" Emily asked a slight pleading in her tone.

"Prentiss is right, let's focus on the case," Hotch told the rest of the team before turning to Emily, "Well, talk later."

Emily nodded, happy to delay the berating for later.

"Can you see if any of the students or staff filed a complaint or reported him," Emily asked Penelope as she recalled her phone call with Y/n.

"Hmm, let me check... Three years ago, a student anonymously reported Mr. Barnes for sexual harassment. Oh geez, the school didn't even look into it, they just swept it under the rug. Good thinking, Em." Penelope said as her fingers typed over the keyboard.

"Well, he fits victimology," JJ noted as she looked anywhere but the body. The nausea in her stomach started to roll at the sight and smell.

"How does she find all these guys, though?" Derek asked.

"Well, there's never a shortage of perverts in DC," Emily muttered, causing Hotch to send her another look.

Derek ignored Emily's comment as he gestured to the body, "I mean that this guy and all her other victims look perfect on record. Does she background-check every guy in the cities she kills?"

"Approximately 47% of the DC population is male, with a total population of 591,833-" Spencer started before Hotch abruptly cut him off. If the statistics had been relevant to the conversation, Hotch would have kept Spencer talking. "Garcia, would it be possible for her to create a computer program like that?" Hotch asked the technical analyst over the phone.

"I mean, it is possible. But hacking into sealed documents is a whole other ball game. Especially when its government sealed like some of the victim's files," Penelope answered.

"Okay, I want you to look deeper into that. See if there are any online forums that she could be using to find her victims," Hotch told Garcia before hanging up the phone.

Emily had been looking around the apartment, unintentionally tuning out the team's conversation, when her eyes landed on the kitchen counter. She'd completely forgotten that Y/n had left something for her.

The brunette walked over to the counter and saw a small gift bag and what looked to be a manuscript. 

Emily picked up the papers, flipped through them, and noted that there had to be at least 300 hundred pages of words. She felt someone walk up behind her before she heard Derek's voice, "What's that?" he asked as he looked at the papers in her hand.

"Something Y/n left for me," Emily sighed as she handed it to Derek and reached over to grab the gift. 

"Her next book?" Derek asked as he started to read the words on them, "Huh, I thought her being a ghost writer was a cover," Derek muttered to himself, referencing back to the first night they'd come in contact with Y/n.

Emily hummed in acknowledgment as she took out the tissue paper and saw a small gold charm at the bottom of the bag. She pulled a pair of gloves out of her pocket before grabbing the charm. 

She held it at eyesight and noted it to be some kind of bird. The embedded diamonds were shining from the kitchen light, and Emily knew this had to be expensive.

"It looks like a blackbird," Spencer said as he walked up next to her. "Blackbirds symbolize transformation, inner strength, and freedom," He continued as he observed the charm for himself. 

Emily frowned as she stared at it, was it some sort of sign? Did the symbolism have meaning for Y/n, or was this something else to throw the team off? Or maybe Y/n just wanted to impress Emily with something shiny. 

The brunette was still trying to piece it together when she heard a gasp from behind her. She and Spencer quickly turned around to see JJ flipping through the manuscript, "Oh my god," JJ said as she held the papers up to the team, "I know this book series! Will's nieces love it," JJ continued.

"Nieces?" Derek asked, practically voicing everyone's surprise that Y/n wrote novels for kids.

"Yeah, I think this is the fifth or sixth book in the series," JJ said as she recalled looking at the novels on the little girls' bookshelf, "The series is about an orphaned teenage girl named Angela, who's trying to solve her parent's murder. Or at least that's what I got out of the synopsis on the back. " JJ finished as she put the manuscript back on the table.

Hotch nodded as he took JJ's words in, "Do you remember the author on the covers name?"

"Ana Wells," JJ responded as she pulled her phone out and scrolled through her photos. "She's a real person, too," JJ said as she showed a picture of Will's nieces with a middle-aged woman at a bookstore meet and greet. 

"I'll have Garcia look into it more tomorrow," Hotch said as they all stared at the manuscript.

"I'm sorry, but this is just crazy." Derek scoffed, breaking the silence. "How the hell does she have time to murder hundreds of people, taunt us, and then also write what looks to be a best-selling children's book series."

"She's like serial killer Barbie," JJ muttered, her exhaustion and hormones enough to loosen her usual professionalism. Derek chuckled but was cut off by Hotch's sharp gaze. 

"She left all this for you?" Spencer asked Emily, getting the group back on task.

Emily nodded, "Yeah, but... I don't know why. Providing us with the manuscript and the name of the author she writes for benefits us, not her." 

"Well, maybe she's trying to tell you something with the manuscript and the charm." Rossi pointed out, and Emily just shook her head, "But what?"

"That's what we have to figure out," Hotch said, "But it's late, so we'll pick up tomorrow. Luckily, I was able to get a hold of Gideon, so he should be by tomorrow morning. Hopefully, With his insight, things will start making more sense." Hotch said before dismissing the team. Emily tried to escape, hoping Hotch wouldn't remember, but when she heard her last name ring through the apartment, she accepted defeat and turned around to meet Hotch's disappointed eyes. 

"A word," He said, gesturing for her to follow him into the hallway.

She nodded, instructing JJ to wait by her car so she could tend to her cut after her hopefully brief conversation with the unit chief. 

"Why did you not inform me you were talking to Y/n?" Hotch asked, getting straight to the point. 

"I was going to," Emily swears, "I just wanted to get enough out of Y/n before telling you." As she said it aloud, she realized how bad it sounded. But in her defense, it wasn't as if anything crazy had happened. 

"But that's not your call to make." Hotch said shortly, "For this team to work, I have to trust the people on it."

"And you can trust me. I just couldn't risk you cutting contact with the only lead we have."

Hotch raised an eyebrow at Emily's argument, "So, I can trust you, but you can't trust me to make the right calls for this team?"

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"Prentiss, if you're too close to this case, I will not hesitate to remove you from it," Hotch interrupted. 

"I am not too close to this case," Emily argued back, trying to keep her voice down and not yell like she wanted to. "I apologize for not telling you, but I'm getting somewhere with her, Hotch. And if you pull me off the case, chances are Y/n is just going to move on," Emily said.

Did Emily feel slightly conceited saying that? Yes.

But was it true? Also yes.

Y/n may have been toying with the whole team, but it was mostly Emily that she showed interest in, and Hotch and the whole team could see that. 

The Unit Chief thought silently for a moment before relenting. "Fine, you can stay in contact with her. But I want past and future conversations relayed through Garcia. And I want to be briefed every day."

Emily nodded, relief filling her chest, "Yes, sir."

Hotch studied the brunette momentarily, hoping he made the right call, "If you do something like that behind my back again, I will remove you from this case. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir," Emily nodded again before her boss dismissed her. 

Well, that had been easier than she thought. Honestly, she'd expected a lot more pushback from Hotch. But right now, they needed as many leads as they could get. 

A slight shiver ran through Emily as she headed to her car. The moon and the stars illuminate the parking lot, and Emily's reminded once again how late it is. " He read you the riot act?" JJ asked as she stood perched on the hood of Emily's car. Emily chuckled as she unlocked the car, "If it were any other case, he probably would," 

JJ hummed as she watched Emily pull out a medical kit from the passenger seat compartment. Emily motioned for the blonde to take a seat as she pulled out all the items she needed. "Jesus, JJ." Emily gasped as she carefully pulled the bandaid off and realized just how deep the cut was. 

"Maybe we should go to the hospital-" Emily started before JJ cut her off. "It's fine, Em. Just bleeding a lot." JJ insisted sharply. Emily held her hands up in surrender as she dabbed the cut with disinfectant. 

"I thought part of being pregnant meant your partner does everything for you," Emily said, trying to lighten the mood, and to her relief, JJ chuckled a little. "We both work full-time jobs and if I left everything up to Will, our house would be a wreck." 

Emily hummed, adding another tally to the reasons she disliked Will. 

"Well then, let him put away the dangerous dishes," Emily smiled as she pulled the medical glue out of the bag, "We can't be ruining our money maker," Emily teased as she held the cut together. "Ass," JJ muttered under her breath, and Emily smiled. 

She worked quietly as she patched up JJ's forehead. She was lost in thought when she felt JJ's eyes staring at her. "What?" Emily asked, not liking the look on her friend's face.

"It was Y/n calling you earlier, wasn't it," JJ said, her voice soft and lacking judgment. JJ didn't understand why Emily hadn't told them. But she trusted her friend and knew that there had to be a good reason for not telling the team.

"Yeah," Emily sighed as she finally put the bandage over the glued cut. "I know it was stupid; you don't have to tell me," Emily defended, an instinct even though there wasn't a hint of judgment in the blonde's eyes. "Did I say anything?" JJ chuckled, used to Emily's ways by now.

"Sorry. I just... I know what I'm doing."

"Again, did I say anything?" JJ said with an eyebrow raised. 

"No, you didn't" Emily shook her head, "Sorry, I just really want this case over," Emily muttered as she squeezed JJ's shoulder, signaling that she'd finished tending to her cut. 

"As do I. But I have a feeling that's not going to happen anytime soon." JJ said as she hopped out of the car. Emily hummed in acknowledgment before saying goodbye to JJ. She made sure her friend was safely in her car before heading out for the ten-minute drive back to her apartment.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

It was 7:30 in the morning when Emily walked into the BAU. Usually, she was the one to cut it close, barely arriving to work on time. But she could barely sleep last night and couldn't stand the eerie silence that had fallen over her apartment. Hence, her being the first one at work.

Although, when she arrived at her desk, she saw three people in Hotch's office. The unit chief, Rossi, and what looked to be Gideon were deep in conversation, looking at case files. Emily's eyes widened at the sight of them. 

She knew Gideon was coming obviously, but it was still a shock to see the man. She was dreading the awkward reunion that was bound to happen in a couple of hours and decided to keep herself busy.

 Last night she had texted Y/n asking where she'd gotten the blackbird charm and about the manuscript.

But to her surprise, the younger woman never answered. Usually, Y/n would get back to her within 5 minutes, so what was going on? 

A part of her wanted to believe that it didn't have anything to do with the fact that she'd told Hotch about their contact. But she wasn't naive enough to believe that it didn't have anything to do with Y/n not answering her back. 

She decided to put her phone away and focus on the other case files that she'd neglected since coming across Y/n. 

It was about an hour later when the rest of the team slowly filtered through the bullpen. 

"Gideons here?" Derek asked as he sat at his desk, the surprise in his voice mirrored Emily's earlier in the morning. 

"Yup," Emily nodded. "I honestly didn't think he was going to come so soon."

Spencer scoffed, something so unlike him that Derek and Emily couldn't help but pause their conversation as they stared at the youngest profiler. 

Wow, this was going to be a long day. 

"Well, whatever he knows must be important if he's coming out of retirement to consult with us," Derek said with a shrug as they all stared at Hotch's office. The blinds were pulled down but the three senior profilers were still in there, none of them having left since Emily arrived. 

Spencer scoffed again, "It also means that he's been close this entire time. We just weren't enough for him to want to come back." 

"Spencer-" Emily started with an empathetic sigh.

"I'm getting coffee," Spencer said, pushing his chair back forcefully as he practically stomped to the kitchenette, ignoring the concerned glances thrown his way. 

"I take it your guys's talk yesterday didn't help." Emily sighed as she turned towards Derek. 

"What do you think," Derek said as he gestured to Spencer who was furiously adding sugar to his coffee.  

Emily hummed when suddenly Hotch's office door opened. "Conference room. Now." He said as he headed down the walkway with Rossi following after him. Gideon gave Emily and Derek a small nod of acknowledgment before following after the two men. 

"This should be fun," Emily sighed as they headed to the round table. 

"Tell me about it," Derek murmured as he took his seat next to Emily. Spencer came in and sat as far away from Gideon as he could. 

As soon as the two blondes took their seat Gideon rose. "I know I'm not here under the best circumstances," He said and if it was possible, the room was even more stiff and awkward than it was before. 

"But I'm here to help you guys, and even if you don't want it, you're going to need it," Gideon said as he grabbed a small box from the floor next to him and put it on the table. "I was the one that sealed the case in 1992." He finished as he handed the files over to the team.

"Why would you seal an unsolved case?" Derek asked, the confusion written over his face.

"Because it's not unsolved. We found the Wood Stalker in March of 1992, dead in his cabin from a single gunshot to his head." Gideon explained.

"Why isn't that in any of the files?" Penelope frowned.

"It's not in any of the files because I wanted to protect the person that turned him in" Gideon sighed as he ran a hand through his short hair. 

"Who turned him in?" JJ asked.

"His eight-year-old daughter. Who was also the one that killed him." Gideon answered.

"What?" The rest of the team said in unison.

"I sealed it for her, she didn't need the whole world knowing what she'd done just to stay alive," Gideon said honestly. 

"And everyone was just okay with that?" Spencer asked snarkily, notable not about the case and more of the fact that it was Gideon he was talking to. "The brass was different back then. The killer was gone and that's all they cared about. Other agencies backed my decision, although I didn't understand their reasoning why."

"What agency?" Emily asked with a frown.

"CIA. And I still don't know why, but I think we're going to find out soon." Gideon said and Emily looked at him skeptically, "How can you be so sure?"

"Because your unsub, Y/n,  is the daughter of the Wood Stalker."

A/N: If I were to do a tag list, would anyone be interested in being on it? Thanks for reading!

Three Steps Back (Don't Blame Me: Chapter 6)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Warnings: Typical Criminal minds stuff, mentions of death

Words: 2.8k

Emily could feel the migraine forming behind her eyes. After hours of staring at the same case files, she still couldn't find anything. She let her head drop to her desk, hoping it would just swallow her whole and then spit her out when they made a break in the case.

"...Prentiss," At the sound of her last name, her eyes flitted to the person leaning on her desk.

"Your phone," JJ finished as she pointed to the buzzing device on Emily's desk.

"Oh, right," Emily mumbled as she gave JJ a small smile of appreciation before picking up the phone.  

When she saw Y/n calling her, she returned her phone to her desk. 

"Your mother?" JJ asked as she perched on Emily's desk. 

"I wish," Emily muttered. Then, cursing under her breath as her phone started ringing again.

"Someone worse than your mother? Yikes." JJ said as she tried to discreetly see whoever was calling Emily as the brunette completely shut off her phone.

"You could say that," Emily sighed as she tossed her phone to the back of her desk.

Emily looked up and saw JJ still perched on her desk, giving her the look. Emily hated that look because it meant JJ was about to pry, and she did not want to tell the team that she was talking to a serial killer.

A small part of her knew she should at least tell Hotch, but she couldn't risk him cutting off her only means of communication with Y/n.

"Did you need something, JJ?"

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted coffee, but now I want to know who was calling you," JJ smiled, making herself comfortable on the brunette's desk.

"It's no one," Emily rolled her eyes, "And if you're going out for coffee, I'll take my usual."

"Em, come on, who else other than your mom would make you glare at your phone like that?" JJ inquired, completely ignoring Emily's request about the coffee.

"You want a list?" Emily snarked back.

"Oh! Oh! Was it, Hannah?" JJ asked, even more interested now. 

"Wait, Hannah, as in your ex-girlfriend Hannah is calling you?" Spencer chimed in from his desk across from Emily's. 

"I thought she ghosted you," Derek added from his desk. 

The two women whipped their heads around, not even realizing that Spencer and Derek had been listening to their conversation. The glare Emily shot the younger agent made him wish he'd never spoken in the first place. Derek, on the other hand, was more than amused.

"For the fifth time, Hannah did not ghost me! It was a mutual breakup!" Emily huffed. 

"Whatever you say, princess." Derek smiled, earning him another glare from Emily. 

"The term ghosting became popular in 1990's hip hop- Ow!" Spencer yelped as Emily launched the stuffed animal cat that Penelope bought her right at Spencer's face. 

"I wasn't ghosted! And I'm done talking to you guys!" Emily frowned as she turned her chair back to her desk and ignored the three other agents.

Derek and Spencer chuckled at her antics while JJ rolled her eyes. 

"I'll be back with your coffee, Ms. Grouchy," JJ said as she pushed off Emily's desk, earning a small grumble of gratitude from the brunette.

JJ was halfway to the door when Penelope came full speed through the doors, "BAU Assemble! I've got something!" She yelled, running surprisingly fast in her high heels to the conference room.

"I guess that means no coffee," Emily grumbled as they all made their way to the round table.

As soon as everyone sat down, Penelope turned the TV monitor on and passed out numerous case files.

"In 1991, there was a serial killer that operated in rural Virginia at the same time and place that Alex Painter was murdered," Penelope explained as she pulled up pictures of about 15 women on the TV. They were all of different races but looked around the same age. 

"All of these women were kidnapped, held for a week, and then dumped in the woods. They were all beaten, barely recognizable by the time their bodies were found." Penelope continued, making a point not to look at the crime scene photos.

Rossi looked between the case files and the TV when a spark of recognition came to his eyes, "I remember this. Gideon was the lead profiler on the case. They called the killer The Wood Stalker" 

Back then, the BAU members worked solo, only using each other as consults rather than working on cases as a team. "I helped Gideon build a profile, but he never found the guy." Rossi finished.

"That's right," Penelope agreed, "In March of 1992, The Wood Stalker vanished. And with no leads or suspects, the case went cold."

Emily frowned as she looked over the case. There was something off, but she couldn't put her nose on it, "So how does Alex Painter tie into this? She's not in any of these files."

"Ah, right! Thank you for the segway, my brooding brunette," Penelope said, and no one even batted an eye, used to the technical analyst's ways by now.

"While you guys are the profilers and I am the mere but mighty technical Goddess-"

"Garcia." Hotch intervened, raising an eyebrow to keep the blonde on task.

"Right." Penelope nodded, "I found it odd that Alex Painter wasn't mentioned in any of the files, especially since she matched victimology."

"Why did they rule her out as one of his victims then?" Derek asked as he flipped through the case file. "I mean, we know now that Y/n killed her. But if all I was looking at were these files, I'd agree that The Wood Stalker killed her.  It seems negligent to not even investigate her death."

"That's what I was thinking! And we all know Gideon is very thorough." Penelope said, and a slightly uncomfortable wave washed through the room.

"That's one way to describe him," Spencer muttered as he stared down at the table. 

Rossi was about to say something in his friend's defense, but Hotch shook his head, not wanting to further the conversation.

It had been less than a year since Gideon left without a word, and the team had mostly moved on. But it was still a touchy subject, especially for Spencer. 

"So, who investigated Alex Painter's death then?" JJ asked, and everyone was thankful that she had cut the awkward silence that had fallen around them.

"Well, this is where things get even more odd," Penelope said as she pulled up the picture of Alex's file. "Detective Anthony Scott was the lead on her case. So I did some research on the guy, and to an untrained eye, he seems normal."

"Well, you are far from normal, baby girl." Morgan complimented, and Penelope smiled. "Very true. Anyways, I dug a little deeper and found that Detective Anthony Scott doesn't exist."

"What do you mean he doesn't exist?" Emily asked, a skeptical brow raised.

"I mean that someone very tech-savvy created Anthony Scott. I'm talking bank accounts, birth certificates, marriage licenses, and more." Penelope continued.

"Why would someone go through all of that trouble to cover up who investigated Alex Painter's death?" JJ asked. And once again, the team felt like they were getting into something a lot larger than they were hoping for.

"Could it have been Y/n?" Derek asked.

"Why would she try to cover up something she already told us about?" Emily countered, more defensive than she would have liked, but she would think about that later.

"Yeah, and there's no way Y/n could have created an identity that thorough. There's only a handful of people I know that could do that, but they wouldn't have any reason to." Penelope agreed. 

Emily bit her bottom lip in concentration; she knew what this sounded like. Fake identities that seemed too good to be true. Seemingly unimportant cases swept under the rug...this had CIA written all over it.  And if the CIA was involved, it meant that whatever information they had now was all they were going to find. 

But how on earth did the CIA get connected to all of this?

Maybe she could make a couple of phone calls. Contact some of her old handlers and see if they could find anything pertaining to this case. 

"Why aren't Gideon's notes in here?" Hotch asked, pulling Emily out of her head as she realized she had missed whatever the rest of the team was talking about.

"Well, since it was before I came to the BAU, his notes weren't digitalized. And when I went down to the archives, almost everything about this case was gone." Penelope said regretfully as she took a seat, having no more information to give the team.

"His notes should still be in there, though. The case is still classified." Spencer said, and it affirmed even more to Emily that the CIA or some other agency has something to do with this.

"I feel like there's dead ends everywhere we turn with this case," JJ muttered, and the team silently agreed.

"I know we all feel a little discouraged, but we are further than we were yesterday. I'll call Gideon and have him come in as soon as possible. Hopefully, he can provide us with more information. But for now, let's get back to work," Hotch said quickly before dismissing himself to his office, leaving the team in a little shock. Hotch was never one to give a pep talk, so maybe this was even worse than they imagined.

"I'll give Gideon a call, too," Rossi said as he left for his office, not wanting to see the other agents' reactions. It was an odd situation, the complex feelings he had for his friend were different than those of the younger agents. 

But Gideon was also one of Rossi's oldest friends, and after everything they'd been through, he still had respect and loyalty to him. So, he did not want to hear what the other agents had to say about him.

"Has anyone talked to Gideon recently?" Penelope asked in the conference room, trying to break the ice since the topic of Gideon was now unavoidable.

"Since he left all of us with a note?" Spencer asked sarcastically, a tone that surprised everyone, "No," He continued as he gathered his stuff and practically stormed back to his desk without looking at anyone else.

"I was just..." Penelope trailed off sadly, not having predicted that reaction from the youngest profiler.

"It's not your fault, Pen, it's just a hard subject for him," JJ said as she squeezed Penelope's shoulder.

Emily had stayed relatively quiet on any subject that involved Gideon. She shared vastly different opinions on the older agent than her friends did.

She knew that Gideon didn't like her. In fact, everyone knew, because it wasn't like he tried to hide his disdain. 

Towards the end, he tolerated her, but the way he left and the effect it had on everyone just solidified her dislike of him, not that she would ever voice that aloud.

"I'll go talk to him," Derek said before leaving the room and leaving the three women to themselves.

It was silent for a moment before Emily's phone started to buzz. She sighed and ignored the look JJ sent her as she picked up her phone. 

Y/n (1:34 PM): Call me back tonight. I have a surprise for you.

Emily (1:34 PM): I don't like surprises. 

Emily typed back before pocketing her phone. She heard her phone buzz again, no doubt another text message from Y/n, but she did not want to deal with this right now.

"What was that?" Penelope asked as she motioned her hand towards Emily. 

"What was what?" Emily played dumb with a shrug.

"Don't even try, Pen. She's been like this all day." JJ rolled her eyes.

"Who is causing you to glare at your phone like that?" Penelope pressed, ignoring JJ.

"It's no one," Emily said as she grabbed her case files and started to stand up, not looking at either blonde.

"Emily! Indulge me in something that is not this case!" Penelope begged, always the one to get into people's business.

Emily scoffed, finding it quite ironic that the person she was texting was the reason for this case. "It's a personal matter."

"Even better!" Penelope continued, earning a stifled laugh from JJ. 

She rolled her eyes, knowing that no one was going to give this up any time soon, "Fine, you know what? It is Hannah! Now, can everyone just mind their own business?!"

"Hannah unblocked you?!"

"What? How do you know she blocked me?!" Emily gaped at Penelope and then instantly realized that was a stupid question.

"Never mind. I'm done talking. And stop hacking into my phone!" Emily practically growled before exiting the room, leaving the two blondes wide-eyed.

"Well, we know it's not Hannah," Penelope said, earning her a slap to the shoulder.

"She's going to kill you," JJ said as she gathered her stuff, and Penelope just shrugged it off. Emily had always been all bark and no bite. She was a secret softie once you got to know her.

"Where are you going?" Penelope pouted, not wanting to be left alone.

"I'm going to buy her a coffee before she kills me too."

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

It was after eight by the time Emily unlocked her apartment door. The team had been working nonstop for hours, but it felt like the more they uncovered, the more questions that arose.

Eventually, Hotch sent everyone home, stating that they should just wait for Gideon to tell them everything he knew before jumping to conclusions.

But Hotch and Rossi were having trouble reaching Gideon, and if they couldn't contact him, then this shitstorm of a case was going to take even longer to solve.

So when Emily fell onto her couch, she didn't even have the energy to take off her shoes, let alone cook anything. She stared at the ceiling for a solid five minutes before remembering Y/n's text.

She reached for her phone and opened Y/n's text from earlier in the day that she never looked at.

Y/n (1:35 PM): I promise you'll like this one.

Emily sighed as she debated whether or not she should call the younger woman. 

Ultimately, she gave in, knowing, at the very least, Y/n would reveal something new.

She quickly dialed her number before she could talk herself out of it.

"I was wondering when you were going to call," Y/n answered after the third ring, a cocky smile evident in her face.

"It was a long day at work, thanks to you," Emily answered shortly as she sat up fully on the couch, crossing her legs under her.

"To me? So you're thinking about me all day long?" Y/n grinned. Something was going on in the background of wherever Y/n was, but Emily couldn't decipher what it was.

"Don't flatter yourself. The only reason I'm thinking about you is because you've murdered 300 people." Emily scoffed.

"300 men, not people." Y/n corrected. 

"What about Alex Painter? She wasn't a man."

"Really? Is that all you've got on her so far?" Y/n chuckled. 

"Pretty much. And you knew that the information you gave us would only lead to dead ends." Emily remarked. 

"Alls fair in love and war, darling. And besides, I thought the BAU was the best. I have to say, you guys are disappointing me."

"Disappointing you?! That's rich," Emily scoffed and was reminded once again that she was talking to a psychopath.

"It is rich! Because I'm starting to get bored, and you know what happens when I get bored." Y/n started, and Emily heard the sound of a door slam on the younger woman's side of the phone.

"What was that?" Emily asked as she sat up a bit straighter, a knot starting to form in her stomach.

"It's your surprise! Or did you forget why I told you to call me?" Y/n smiled. 

"I told you, I don't like surprises." Emily gritted out as she heard the sound of a scuffle on the other end of the phone.

"Oh, you'll like this one!" Y/n chuckled, and then Emily heard the sound of a gunshot. 

"Y/n!" Emily gaped as she stood up, hoping this wasn't what she thought it was.

"His name is Howard Barnes. Oh, wait! My bad, his name was Howard Barnes." Y/n chuckled.

Emily was frozen for a moment; her usual fast thinking was nowhere to be found. 

"Don't worry, Emily. He's not your gift. He's just some perv that needed to die before he hurt anyone else. Your surprise is on his kitchen counter; I think you'll like it." Y/n smiled as she branded the angel wind behind the dead man's ear.

"I'm going to find you," Emily said, finally out of her frozen state as she shrugged her coat on and grabbed her gun from her safe.

"You have such a way with words," Y/n laughed, "Also, say hello to Gideon for me. And tell him I'm not afraid of the dark anymore." Y/n finished, and with that, she hung up.

Emily paused as she took the words in. 

Y/n knew Gideon? 

So Gideon had to have been involved in Alex Painter's investigation. Further proving that someone wanted this case covered up. 

But why?

Christ, everything is even more confusing now, Emily thought as she dialed Hotch's number.

"Hotch." He answered on the first ring.

"Y/n killed again. We need to figure out where Howard Barnes lived," Emily said quickly, trying not to think about the future conversation she was bound to have with Hotch, explaining all of this.

This was going to be a huge mess.

A New Light (Don't Blame Me: Chapter 5)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Warnings: Typical Criminal Minds stuff

Words: 2k

"How's that big head of yours?" Emily asked as she leaned against the door frame of Derek's hospital room. She had come straight from the crime scene, where Hotch had received a call that Derek was being released but needed someone to pick him up. Emily immediately volunteered, the lingering guilt still at the back of her mind. 

"Always the flatterer, princess." Derek chuckled as he packed his bag, "Doctors think she drugged me transdermally."

"Jesus. She really was two steps ahead of us," Emily sighed, and Derek nodded in confirmation, "Hotch said she struck again?"

"Yeah, she's taunting us," Emily said.

"This is my fault. I should have done more to stop her-" Derek started before Emily cut him off.

"She drugged you, Derek. No one could have seen that coming."

"I know, but-"

"Ah! No buts! Except for yours, which is about to get pushed around by me in a wheelchair." Emily smiled as she gestured to the wheelchair outside of his room.

"Like hell I am," Derek scoffed as he tried to walk out of the room but was stopped by Emily. 

"It's hospital protocol. And I'll call Dad if you don't cooperate!" Emily threatened.

Derek rolled his eyes but eventually sat in the wheelchair. Emily could be very scary when she wanted to be.

Out of everyone, he was glad that it was Emily to get him. They shared an easy camaraderie, which was exactly what he needed. 

"I don't think Hotch will approve of you calling him Dad." Derek quipped back as Emily pushed him through the halls of the hospital.

"Yeah, you're right. Mom suits him better." Emily smiled, causing Derek to laugh, "Ten bucks to say that to his face." 

"Oh, you're on," Emily said, flicking the back of his head, and their bickering continued all the way to the car. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

"Alright, my beautiful crime fighters," Penelope started as she walked into the conference room where the rest of the team was. As soon as Emily and Derek had walked into the bullpen, Hotch had called everyone to debrief and review new information.

"I found a whole lot of nothing with the information Derek gave us, but I did possibly find something!" Penelope said as she connected her computer to the TV. 

"I ran the name Y/n Y/l/n, and unsurprisingly, I found nada. However, I ran the name Alex Painter, Y/n's first victim, through VICAP and got this.."

The technical analyst pulled the picture up, and the team sat in confusion.

"Alex Painter was a woman?" Emily asked, extremely skeptical if this was the right person.

"And she was killed in 1991? Assuming Y/n is in her mid-20s, that would put her at about 6-10 years old when she killed Alex Painter." Spencer chimed in.

"COD was blunt force trauma to the head; I mean, even though it sounds unlikely, it isn't entirely impossible," Derek said.

"I've seen it before," Rossi added. 

"You can't be serious," JJ said defensively, causing the whole team to look at her, surprised by her uncharacteristic tone, "She was just a kid. There's no way she could have done that by herself."

"I'm with JJ," Emily said, although much calmer than her blonde counterpart, "Something's off. This is either the wrong Alex Painter, or we're getting into something a lot bigger than we thought."

The rest of the team nodded; not everyone was on the same page, but everyone knew something wasn't adding up. 

"Well, that's my cue to do more sleuthing. I will update you guys when I'm done. PG out." Penelope declared as she grabbed her stuff and made her way to her lair for the foreseeable future. 

"While Garcia's doing that, I want a new profile on Y/n, especially after last night,"  Hotch said as he motioned to the numerous boxes on the table. "Go over all the case files again; maybe there's something Interpol missed." He said before going to his office to no doubt do his own work.

"Well, this should be fun," Derek grumbled, earning a sigh from everyone else.

"Coffee, anyone?" Emily asked, knowing this was about to be a long day. Everyone gave a pleasant nod. Before she left the room, she turned to JJ when no one was looking and mouthed "tea," to which JJ gave a grateful smile.  

As Emily was brewing the coffee, she felt her phone buzz. Not thinking anything of it, she pulled it out of her pocket. But when she saw the sender of the text, her heart dropped. 

Y/n (10:23 am): Did you like the flowers?

Emily scoffed, about to turn her phone off, when another message popped up.

Y/n (10:24 am): It was hard to find them on such short notice. But only the best for you, darling.

Emily (10:24 am): I don't want anything from you.

Emily quickly typed out. She didn't know if this was against protocol, but she couldn't just not respond. 

Y/n (10:25 am): We'll see about that.

Emily pocketed her phone, leaving the conversation at that before turning to the coffee pot and filling up everyone's mug. 

"Thanks for the tea," Emily heard from behind her and turned to find JJ.

"Of course. You feeling okay?" She asked as she handed JJ her mug, "No morning sickness, thankfully. But I give the smell of coffee two hours before it makes me puke."

"I'm sorry," Emily said apologetically, but JJ waved her off.

"So, have you put any more thought into you and Will?" Emily asked, trying not to pry, but she also wanted to get her mind off of Y/n.

"I don't know," JJ sighed, "He was blowing up my phone last night."

"After you told him you were at my place?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, he was just worried," JJ said quietly. 

Emily tried not to let her emotions play on her face, but god, she couldn't stand Will. 

"Well, you're welcome to come over whenever. And if you need me to talk to Will-" Emily started before JJ cut her off.

"It's fine, Em. But thank you." JJ said appreciatively, squeezing Emily's arm. 

"Yo! Where's that coffee, princess?" Derek called from the conference room. 

"Well, duty calls." JJ chuckled as she helped Emily grab the mugs. 

When they returned to the conference room, there were files everywhere. It was going to be a very long day.

By 6 pm, it seemed as if they had made no progress. Emily's eyes were strained, and she honestly didn't think she was retaining anything she was reading. 

"This is insane," Derek muttered as he picked another file out of the box.

"What is?" Spencer asked, adding another file to his stack that was probably double the size of everyone else's.

"Her victim count. It's insane." Derek said as it was the most obvious thing.

"Why? Cause she's a woman?" JJ asked.

"Yeah," Derek said sarcastically, causing Emily to throw her pen at him, hitting him right in the forehead, "Hey! I was kidding!"

"I know," Emily smiled, and Derek rolled his eyes.

"What I meant was that she's in her twenties and already has a kill count in the hundreds. What happened to her that made her into the killer she is?" Derek questioned.

"I don't know. And until we figure that out, we stand no chance of catching her," Rossi added.

Emily bit at her bottom lip. She didn't want to think about how many more people were going to die before they caught Y/n.

"Maybe I can try and lure her out again." Emily offered and was immediately met with a resounding no from everyone.

"We already did that, and it didn't work," JJ said. Not even wanting to think about sending her friend to meet Y/n again. 

"And besides, you know that's not how we work, Prentiss," Derek said.

"Yeah, yeah. You're right." Emily said with a small nod. But she couldn't help but think they could catch Y/n quicker if they did, except for the fact that Derek was right. The BAU didn't go undercover and lure people; they profiled and caught unsubs from an outside perspective. And that's how Emily wanted to do things from here on out. Right?

It was almost 8 pm by the time she walked into her apartment. The last two days were catching up to her, and Emily wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next 12 hours. She quickly popped a frozen pizza into the oven before going to change. 

As she waited for the pizza, she browsed through her bookshelf when she suddenly remembered that Y/n told her she was a writer. Was it possible that Emily had read one of her books? She had quite a hefty collection in her apartment, but it wasn't even a fraction of all the books she'd read in her life. 

What kind of books did Y/n write? Emily wondered. Mystery? Romance? Fiction? Fantasy?

And what got her into writing? How did she even have time to write and murder hundreds of men?

The oven rang, pulling Emily out of her thoughts. She shook her head as she walked back to the kitchen. Reading was supposed to help her get out of her head, and all she could think about was Y/n. 

She took her pizza on the couch, putting on some reality show that she didn't pay any attention to. 

After about twenty minutes, Emily pulled her phone out and went to her text messages with Y/n. She knew she should tell Hotch she was in contact with Y/n. But what if Hotch disapproved and made her end it? She couldn't get rid of the only lead they had, so maybe she should wait until she got enough out of Y/n. 

So, without thinking too hard about it, she texted Y/n. 

Emily (9:02 PM): Alex Painter.

The name was all Emily typed before turning off her phone. She knew Y/n wouldn't be able to resist talking to her. And even if the younger woman didn't give her anything, what harm could it do? It wasn't like the team was making much leeway anyway.

Y/n (9:03 PM): I thought you wanted nothing to do with me? Change of heart?

Emily (9:03 PM): No. I just want to know about Alex Painter. 

Y/n (9:04 PM): What about her?

Y/n (9:04 PM): Also, this is not the kind of late-night text I prefer, Emily.

Emily scoffed, ignoring the last message.

Emily (9:05 PM): Did you really kill her in 1991?

Y/n (9:05 PM): I don't know, did I? I thought your team was supposed to be good at stuff like this.

Y/n (9:06 PM): Also, what are you wearing?

Once again, Emily ignored the last message.

Emily (9:06 PM): You were just a kid in 1991. How were you able to overpower a grown woman?

Y/n (9:07 PM): Answer my question, and I'll answer yours.

Emily groaned as she looked down at her outfit. She knew what Y/n was doing, and she didn't want to play into her game. But if she could get an answer, it would be worth it. And it wasn't like she was doing anything illegal.

Emily (9:09 PM): An old Yale T-shirt and flannel pajama shorts.

Y/n (9:09 PM): Surprising, but nonetheless hot. Want to know what I'm wearing?

Emily (9:09 PM): No. I answered your question, now answer mine.

Y/n (9:10 PM): Bummer. If you wanted to know, I would have told you that I am taking a very relaxing bath right now and am wearing absolutely nothing.

Emily gripped her phone, cursing her brain for visualizing that for even a second. God, this was a bad idea.

Y/n (9:10 PM): And if you had said please, I definitely would have sent you a picture. 

Emily (9:10 PM): Back to Alex Painter 

Emily typed, not wanting to entertain Y/n any longer. 

Y/n (9:11 PM): Yes ma'am.

Y/n (9:11 PM): 1991 is correct. More specifically, I was 7. And to answer your question, I took the last hit.

Emily (9:11 PM): What does that mean?

Y/n (9:12 PM): You tell me. But I have to say I'm quite bored of this conversation now. We'll talk later, darling.

Emily shut off her phone, knowing the conversation was done. But what did Y/n mean by her taking the last hit?

Emily quickly went to clean her kitchen before getting into bed. 

She tried to sleep, but all she could think about was Y/n. 

See You Soon (Dont Blame Me: Chapter 4)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Warnings: Typical Criminal Minds stuff

Words: 2.2k

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

EMILY DROPPED her bags on the floor as soon as she entered her apartment. She shed her shoes and jacket as she made a beeline to her wine cabinet, not even getting a glass before downing almost a third of the bottle. She looked at the clock in her kitchen that read 1 AM and immediately went to flop onto her couch.

Hotch had sent them home after looking at the car crash scene. Emily had wanted to stay and do as much as she could to find Y/n. But she knew there was no point. There was no way they would find Y/n before she wanted to be found. 

Luckily Derek was okay, the drugs seemed to be passing through his system. The paramedic said he should be fine by the morning, easing Emily's guilt. The rational side of her brain knew that this wasn't her fault, but she still couldn't help but feel like it was. Y/n only wanted Emily which meant that everyone else was just collateral damage. 

'If only I hadn't gone to the coffee shop' Emily kept thinking as she took another sip of the wine. The BAU was supposed to be a fresh start. A place where the was a distance between her and the unsub. Where all she had to was help create a profile and then make an arrest. 

But now? Now it was personal. 

Emily had been fully content on drinking herself to sleep until she heard a knock on the door. The brunette furrowed her brows as she slowly stood up and put the wine bottle down, reaching for her gun in a hidden compartment under her coffee table. She quietly approached the door and looked through the peephole to see an anxious JJ on the other side fiddling with an overnight bag. Emily let out a sigh of both relief and annoyance as she opened the door, putting her gun on the table by the entrance, "JJ? What are you doing here?"

"Can I um- stay here for the night?" The blonde asked, looking down at the floor. All of Emily's annoyance washed away as she immediately pulled her friend into the apartment. "Yeah of course. You know you're always welcome here." The brunette said as she grabbed JJ's bag and led her to the couch. 

"Thanks," JJ mumbled as she sat in the corner of the couch, pulling her legs up so her chin could rest on her knees. Emily was at a loss for what to do. The blonde had been completely fine when they had left the crime scene so this couldn't be about work. 

"You want a drink?" Emily offered as she sat next to the blonde and held up the half-empty wine glass. 

"No thanks," JJ said as she looked at Emily for the first time. Emily could see that her eyes were slightly red and puffy, she had been crying. She immediately went to comfort her friend and ran a soothing hand along the blonde's back, "What's wrong?"

"It's um- It's Will," JJ said nervously as she gnawed at her bottom lip. Emily's face immediately hardened. She had always hated the guy. Hated the way he treated JJ.

"He moved in last week." JJ continued and Emily tried to hide the look of shock on her face, "I didn't know you guys were getting serious." The brunette said. The last time they talked about Will, JJ had said they were nothing more than hookup-buddies. 

"Well, we weren't planning on it," JJ mumbled as she wrung her fingers together. 

"What changed your mind?" Emily asked and her soft tone broke the dam of emotions that JJ had been holding in.

"I'm pregnant!" JJ immediately burst into tears and Emily's eyes widened in shock as she pulled the younger woman into her arms. "Happy tears or sad tears?" Emily asked pushing away her surprise and putting her full focus on JJ. She didn't want to approach this the wrong way.

"I don't know," JJ sniffled against Emily's shoulder, "Ive- I've always wanted to be a mom but it wasn't supposed to happen like this! I was supposed to be married and in love and...and..." The blonde trailed off as tears fell on her face and onto the brunette's shirt. 

"It's okay, let it out," Emily murmured as she comforted her friend. It was another couple of minutes before JJ's tears stopped and she pulled away from the brunette's embrace. 

"I don't know what to do." JJ said as her blue eyes locked onto Emily's brown ones, "Well you have a lot of options and time-" Emily started before she was cut off by the blonde, "No no, I want to keep the baby. I just don't know what to do about Will." JJ said nervously. "Everything's moving so fast and even though I've known him for two years, it's not like we did a lot of talking," JJ said.

"Not like you'd understand him anyway," Emily murmured under breath and thankfully JJ didn't hear her. "Have you talked to him about this?" The brunette asked, speaking louder so that JJ could hear her this time.

"Yeah, but he said that this is just what people do. I mean he dropped everything to move here to help me with the baby." JJ said and Emily shook her head. "That doesn't mean you owe him anything."

"Don't I at least owe it to the baby to try?"

"I um, I don't know," Emily said, feeling way out of her depth. She wished that Penelope was here to give JJ advice. The bubbly blonde always seemed to know what to say.

"But you need to do what's best for you. And if Will cares about you and the baby he needs to respect whatever you decide to do." Emily murmured.

"I know. It's just hard," JJ said as she wiped away a tear from her lashline.

Emily rubbed her shoulder, giving her a couple of minutes of silence to process her thoughts. "You're going to be a great mom." She said after JJ seemed to come back to herself. 

"You think so?"

"I know so." Emily smiled before grabbing the TV remote and turning on a movie for the both of them to watch. She knew there was too much on her mind to be able to fall asleep and she assumed it was the same for the younger agent. 

They were about halfway through the movie when JJ noticed that Emily had been zoning out. She'd been worried about the brunette ever since they left the crime scene. 

"Em," JJ said as she pulled Emily's attention away from a spot on the wall, "Are you okay?" JJ asked, never having seen Emily so on edge before. They had been best friends for almost three years but JJ still hadn't been able to crack the walls that Emily put up. JJ didn't mind though, she knew Emily was just a naturally guarded person.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Emily shrugged. 

"Well, it can't be easy getting so close to an unsub like that," JJ said and Emily couldn't help but just stare. She had completely forgotten that no one on the team knew about her past. They didn't know what she had to do to accomplish a mission. It wasn't that she was ashamed of it per se, she knew she helped to down a lot of bad people. But just because she wasn't ashamed of it didn't mean she felt good about it either. 

"I'll get over it," Emily said, giving JJ a reassuring smile that said she was both done with the conversation and that the blonde didn't need to worry. 

"Well even if you're over it, it doesn't seem like Y/n is," JJ frowned. 

"She's not the first woman to be obsessed with me," Emily said jokingly,  trying to get the blonde off her case.

"You know that's not what I meant," JJ said rolling her eyes, not amused with Emily's humor as a way to lessen the situation.

"I know I just- I don't want to think about it for too long," Emily murmured, hoping that was a good enough answer and thankfully it was since JJ didn't say anything else for the rest of the movie.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

"Any last words?" Y/n asked as she pointed her gun directly at the back of Jonah Herring's head. Her knee dug into his upper back as his face was forced into the ground of his living room floor. 

"Go fuck yourself." He groaned and Y/n just chuckled, "You men are so unoriginal. I can't even tell how many times I've heard that."

"You bitch!" Jonah growled as he tried to free himself from Y/n's hold. But the drugs that Y/n had slipped into his beer were preventing him from overpowering her.

"Again, unoriginal!" Y/n tutted as her gun traced Jonah's jawline. "I'll give you one more chance. How about that?"

"I will fucking kill you!" He spat and Y/n just rolled her eyes. "You know, most of the time you don't want to antagonize the person with the gun," She said as she brought it back to his head.

"And usually I'd take my time and have some fun. But I'm on a bit of a time crunch, unfortunately," Y/n said with fake pity.

Jonah's eyes went wide as he heard the click of the gun, "Wait-"

"Too late!" Y/n smiled as she pulled the trigger and Jonah's lifeless body fell to the ground.  Y/n immediately tucked her gun into her back pocket and rolled Jonah onto his back.

"Now this may hurt a little." Y/n joked as she pulled the branding pen out of her pocket. She'd done this so many times she could probably do it with her eyes closed. Finishing the angel wing only took two minutes before she stood up and Jonah back onto his stomach.

She pulled her phone out and saw that it was almost 3 am. Y/n smiled as she pocketed her phone, the adrenaline of outsmarting the BAU less than a couple of hours ago was still running through her body. They had underestimated her just like everyone else had.

And now they were going to pay for it. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

Emily's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her phone ringing. She groaned as she sat up, her back not thanking her for sleeping on the couch. She checked the time and saw that it was only 7 am causing her to groan.

"Prentiss," She grumbled into the phone. 

"We found another body," Hotch said with the sound of cars in the background as he drove through morning traffic.

"What?" Emily asked, her body now fully awake as she shook JJ, who was fast asleep next to her.  

"The police got reports of a gunshot from an apartment building around 3 am. When they found the body they were able to identify the angel wing."

"A gunshot? Why would she use a gun that makes noise? She always uses a silencer," Emily scoffed and bolted upstairs to get her and a now very grumpy and sleepy JJ a new set of clothes.

"It's a taunt. She wants us to know that she's been close this entire time." Hotch answered easily.

"Of course it is," Emily mumbled as rummaged through her drawers, "Any updates on Derek?"

"Doctors said he's going to be fine and should be discharged within the next couple of hours," Hotch said. He had been with Derek in the hospital when he got the call from the DC PD. 

"That's good," Emily muttered more to herself, "JJ and I will meet you there."

"Okay," Hotch confirmed before hanging up.

It was another 45 minutes before the woman arrived at Jonah's apartment. The crime scene looked the same as all the others, organized with nothing out of place other than a dead body. 

Hotch, Spencer, and Rossi were all standing by the body when Emily and JJ walked next to them. 

"The victim is Jonah Herring, 26. Time of death was approximately 3 am and COD was a gunshot wound to the back of the head," The ME said as she wrote on her clipboard. 

"She must have come here right after escaping custody," Rossi noted.

"Why didn't she leave DC? She had the resources and time to do it," Spencer added.

"It's about the hunt," Emily said as she walked around the apartment.

"The hunt?" JJ asked.

"When we were in the bathroom, she said she missed the hunt and how exhilarating it feels," Emily continued as her eyes focused on a bouquet of Chrysanthemums in a vase on the kitchen counter. The flowers stood out in the very masculine and plain apartment. 

 "She wants us to play into her game," Hotch frowned.

"Seems like it," Emily muttered as she brushed a finger on a flower petal. She felt a sense of unease as she looked at the flowers, the team's voices fading out in her mind. A corner of white peeked out from the base and Emily immediately lifted it to find a small note card. 

"Hey guys!" Emily called out, interrupting whatever Rossi and Spencer were talking about. "She left us a card." The team gathered around Emily as she handed the note to Hotch.

The Unit Chief opened the small piece of paper and the side of his jaw ticked, "Actually, she left you a card." He said as he handed the note back to Emily.

She frowned as she opened the letter and read the simple four words on it.

𝘚𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘌𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺

"Godammit," Emily sighed as she gave the note to the rest of the team to read. 

"Well its not just the hunt that exhilarates her." Spencer said as he gave the card back to Emily, "It's the fact that you are hunting her."

Until Next Time (Don't Blame Me: Chapter 3)

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Warnings: Typical Criminal Minds stuff

Words: 2.9k

EMILY PULLED Y/n closer so that her back was flushed to the agent's front. "You're bluffing," Emily scoffed as she eyed the woman. She knew from Y/n's profile that she didn't kill people whom she deemed innocent. So there was no way she would blow up a bar full of a hundred people.

"Are you really willing to take that risk?" Y/n smiled sweetly and it took the brunette less than a second to lead Y/n out of the bathroom and pull the fire alarm.

The alarm started blaring and people started making their way out of the bar. Emily looked at the detonator again and saw it was now at a minute. She didn't like how slowly the crowd was moving so she yelled at the top of her lungs, "Everybody out! It's a real fire!" And luckily, people started moving much faster.

"What's going on?" Derek said as he ran toward the women, ignoring Y/n's smug smile and focusing on Emily. He'd had his eye trained on the bathroom door, waiting for them to come out. 

"She said there's a bomb," Emily said as she kept her eyes on the crowd, wanting to ensure everyone got out. 

"Where?" Derek said as he eyed Y/n, who just shrugged playfully.

"I don't know and I don't think we have time to find out," Emily said as she showed Derek the detonator which was now counting down from 45 seconds. 

"Get her out of here and I'll make sure everyone else is out," Derek stated leaving no room for argument. 

Emily nodded and pulled Y/n out to a less crowded exit. "You know, as much fun as this is, could you loosen your grip a bit?" Y/n pouted over her shoulder at the brunette.

Emily scoffed as she walked the two of them further away from the building. She saw Hotch and JJ driving toward them in their SUV before quickly hopping out and jogging towards the women. 

"Mm, the blonde is pretty," Y/n noted and Emily just gritted her teeth. 

"What? Did I hit a nerve?" Y/n teased and the brunette ignored her as she walked them toward the unit chief.

"What happened?" Hotch asked as he pulled out his cuffs and handed them to Emily.

"She said she put a bomb in there," Emily said as she quickly cuffed Y/n's hands behind her back.  "Derek's getting everyone out but I'm pretty sure she's bluffing," The brunette continued as she tightened the handcuffs even more. 

"She is right here," Y/n said, causing everyone to turn toward her. "And she would appreciate it if you loosened the cuffs a bit." Y/n continued as she wiggled her hands from behind her.

"Can you focus on something other than yourself for two goddam seconds and tell us if the bomb is real or not?!" Emily growled, her patience for Y/n's antics dwindling more and more.

"That's kind of a lot to ask of a psychopath, don't you think?" Y/n pouted as she turned her head over her shoulder to look at the brunette. "That's what you guys profiled me as, right? A high-functioning psychopath?"

"You won't be so high functioning when you spend the rest of your life in prison." Emily retorted which only earned a laugh from the younger woman, "We'll see about that."

"Prentiss," Hotch interrupted, not liking how much Emily was getting riled up. "The detonator." He said as he held out his hand for the agent to give to him. Emily begrudgingly gave it to the man and watched as his eyebrows rose slightly.

"What is it?" JJ asked as she leaned closer, trying to see whatever Hotch had discovered.

"Well, she is bluffing," Hotch said as he turned the device around and showed that the timer had already run out and nothing had happened, "And this isn't a detonator, It's a remote control for a toy car. Jack has one of these things." The unit chief pointed out quietly, not wanting to make Emily even more mad.

"You're kidding me?!" Emily scoffed as she turned to face Y/n who had the biggest smile on her face, "What? I bought it from the toy store before I came. Like I said before, it's fun to rile you up." 

"You think this is funny?! " Emily said lividly, hating how Y/n was getting under her skin. 

"No, of course not. I think it's hilarious," Y/n said licking her lips.

"We're done here," Hotch said calmly, already sensing how Emily was on the verge of blowing up. "Take her to the SUV." The unit chief continued and Emily nodded, not having to be told twice. She practically dragged Y/n the ten feet of the car before throwing open the door. 

"This was fun, darling! Next time we'll have to use handcuffs in a different context if you know what I mean." Y/n said brashly with a wink as Emily forced her into the car and connected the cuffs to the seat.

"There will be no next time." Emily gritted out and Y/n smiled innocently, "We'll see about that, Agent Prentiss."

The brunette slammed the door shut and walked toward JJ and Hotch, not wanting to spend another second in the younger woman's company. 

"You okay?" Hotch asked and Emily blew out a breath, "Yeah, she's just- a lot."

"Well, at least it's over now," JJ said as she gave her friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Emily nodded as she turned to look at Y/n who was still looking at her with a smile on her face. Something felt wrong but Emily couldn't put her finger on it. 

"Yeah, you're right," Emily said, shaking the worries out of her mind, "I'm not riding back with her though." She said seriously to her boss.

"Don't worry, I'll make Derek do it." The unit chief said and Emily sighed with relief. She was done with Y/n. She could forget all about today. Well, maybe not forget about it, but at least compartmentalize it until it wasn't a big deal.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

"Would you like to play a game, Agent Morgan?" Y/n asked as she stared at the bald man next to her. One of the local Police officers was driving but Derek had insisted on sitting in the back seat next to the woman, not wanting to take his eyes off of her for a second. 

"No," Derek replied shortly, trying to ignore the headache that had been blooming in his temple since leaving the bar.

Y/n sighed dramatically, "Oh come on, It'll be fun!"

"No," Derek said again and the woman just shook her head, "Twenty questions. You ask me whatever you want and I'll answer with the complete truth."

"Really?" Derek asked and Y/n nodded her head, "As long as you answer my questions. No lying."

Derek thought the idea over. Realistically he knew there was no harm, in fact, he could probably get more answers out of Y/n right now than in an interrogation room. "Fine. But I'm asking a question first," Derek said and Y/n nodded with a smile, happy that the agent was playing along. 

"What's your full name?" Derek asked and Y/n sighed boredly, "Y/n Y/l/n. Although I guarantee  you won't get far with it."

"What does that mean-"

"Ah ah. Mine turn." Y/n tutted, "Is there anything going on between Emily and the blonde?" 

Derek blinked slowly, "That's seriously the question you're asking me?"

"Yes," Y/n said as she eyed the man with a frown. Derek rolled his eyes but answered honestly, "No. Nothing is going on between Emily and JJ."

A smile touched Y/n's lips that Derek didn't like the looks of but he decided to ignore it for now. 

"What was the name of your first victim?" The agent asked. Four years ago when he first worked the case the team knew that the first victim they found couldn't have been Y/n's first victim. The crime scene was organized and perfectly executed so it was obvious that Y/n worked up to it. 

"Alex Painter" Y/n answered and to an untrained eye, it looked as if the woman wasn't bothered. But Derek could see through her, could see the way Y/n's eyes narrowed slightly and how she bit the inside of her cheek. The agent wanted to ask more but he could tell that Y/n wasn't going to answer. 

"My turn! What's Emily's favorite flower?" Y/n said, seemingly snapping out of whatever funk she was put in by the question.

 Derek paused for a moment his stomach feeling uneasy. However, he couldn't tell if it was because all the questions were focused on Emily or because his headache was starting to make him feel nauseous. 

"Chrysanthemum's." He said, remembering when Emily pointed them out to him on a case one time.

"You choose to shoot your victims in the head, why?" Derek asked, turning the conversation back to Y/n. This had been a question Rossi brought up this morning. The use of a gun made the kills seem impersonal but the brand of the angel wings did the complete opposite. 

"It's efficient and fast. I don't see a point in prolonging the inevitable. The men I kill deserved what they had coming to them." She said, her voice void of any emotion and it almost sent a shiver down the agent's spine.  

"My turn again! What's Emily's favorite food?" Y/n asked, her emotions suddenly flipping back on.

"Why do you want to know that?" Derek asked and Y/n frowned, "Answer my question or I'm done talking."

The agent sighed, he knew Y/n wasn't bluffing so he answered cautiously, "She loves Thai food."

Y/n smiled as her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip, "Interesting," The woman said and Derek immediately wanted to change the topic, "Why did you move back to the States?" He asked and Y/n sighed, "It was for work. I wasn't too keen on the idea of moving back but I can't deny how much fun I'm having."

"Fun you've had," Derek corrected, blinking slowly as his vision became fuzzy. 

"Sure," Y/n laughed hysterically as she fell over and Derek had no idea what was going on. His mind felt so slow as he tried to comprehend the scene in front of him. His words weren't meant to be funny so he was extremely confused as he watched the woman practically fold over with laughter.

That was until he looked down and noticed the cuffs were no longer secured around Y/n's wrist. Before he had time to react Y/n had quickly pulled the gun from his ankle holster and shot the cop driving the car in the hand.

The cop screamed in pain as his hands came off the steering wheel, causing the car to swerve into a ditch on the side of the road. Luckily they were only going about 25 miles per hour so when they hit a tree Derek and Y/n barely lurched forward. Derek, uncharacteristically, had been frozen since the moment he heard the gunshot. His head was pounding and his eyes were unfocused as he stared at the woman in front of him.

"I really am sorry about this, Derek." Y/n sighed as she toyed with the gun in her hand. The agent tried to reach toward her but the haze in his eyes was getting worse. "What....did.....you....d-do?" Derek muttered.

"Nothing a bandaid won't fix. And trust me, women find scars very sexy." Y/n said, and before Derek even had time to react he felt the gun slam right into his temple. The last thing he remembered was trying to reach out for Y/n as she climbed out of the car before his vision went black.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

Emily's breath fogged the window as stared into the night from the back seat of the SUV. She had the urge to trace her bottom lip, the same ones Y/n had kissed less than an hour ago, but she didn't let herself. She hated how that moment kept replaying in her mind. Hated how she had enjoyed it, even if it was for a sliver of a second.

"You okay back there, Em?" JJ asked as she turned around from the passenger seat. The blonde had been worried about her friend since she sat in the car. 

"Yeah, just tired," Emily said with a small smile that even she knew was unconvincing. Although her words were the truth, she had never been tempted to drown a bottle of wine and crash right into bed.

"Why don't you take the day off tomorrow," Hotch suggested from the driver's seat.

"I'm fine." Emily rolled her eyes, not liking the attention on her.

"Prentiss that wasn't a request-" Hotch started before he was interrupted by the police intercom on the dashboard of the SUV.

"I need backup and medical on 24th Street immediately! We have an agent down and the suspect is on the run! I repeat the suspect is on the run!" A scratchy voice from the device called out.

Emily's eyes widened as she heard the dispatcher repeat it all over again. 

"Oh my god. You don't think that's..." JJ trailed off, already knowing the answer.

Hotch immediately turned his sirens on and hit the gas. Luckily they were only a minute away but the drive felt like hours before they saw the car off the side of the road.

Emily got out of the car before Hotch could even put it in park, and raced to the site of the crash. She saw that the paramedics leading the cop with the shot hand to the ambulance but no sign of Y/n.  She looked behind the car and into the miles of woods that Y/n could be in. Her first instinct was to run in there and find her until she heard a grunt of pain from the car. Her eyes widened when she realized she recognized that sound very well. 

"Derek?!" Emily yelled as she ran closer and was relieved to find him sitting in the car with an icepack on his forehead. The paramedics had tried to get him to the ambulance but he had refused until he could tell the team exactly what happened. 

"Jesus Prentiss, lower your voice." He winced and the brunette immediately apologized but was glad to see that he was still pretty much the same. 

"What happened?" Hotch asked as he walked up from behind Emily.

"She was asking me a bunch of questions and then all of a sudden my vision started going blurry. Next thing I know she's shooting Detective Watson in the hand and I'm getting knocked out with my own Glock." Derek says, still evidently out of it in a way that concerns all three agents who are listening to him.

"You need to get checked out by the medics," Hotch said immediately and Derek shook his head, which only made the pain worse, "Hotch, I'm fine-"

"Derek you were obviously drugged. So you will get checked by the medics. I'm not negotiating." Hotch, said before he yelled for the medics. Two men immediately rushed over to Derek's annoyance but he was more at least he was more cooperative. Hotch immediately went into Unit Chief mode and took control of the scene. He had Emily and JJ look over the car for details while he got in touch with the Bureau about putting out an APB for Y/n.

Emily walked to the opposite side of the car. The door was still open from when Y/n had escaped and the cuffs were opened and on the ground. The brunette shook her head as she imagined the smug look on Y/n's face the last time she had seen her, "I should have seen this coming."

"This isn't your fault," JJ said slowly, slightly confused as to why the brunette was taking this so hard.

"I knew something was wrong but I didn't say anything. Maybe if I had, Derek wouldn't have gotten hurt and Y/n wouldn't have gotten away-" Emily started before the blonde cut her off, "No one could have predicted this. Not even you."

Emily bit the inside of her cheek as she turned to look at the forest behind her. The breeze was making the limbs of the tree sway and it felt as if the unknown was taunting her. "She's been two steps ahead of us this whole time," The brunette said as she turned back to JJ. "And we just let her get away."

"Emily-" JJ started but the brunette was already walking away, not wanting to look at the car or the empty handcuffs for another second. She walked toward Derek who was fighting with the medics. "I don't need to go to the hospital!" Derek grumbled as the paramedic walked away with an annoyed look on his face. When Emily was close she shot the paramedic an apologetic look before taking a seat next to her partner. 

"Do they know what she drugged you with?" The brunette asked and Derek shook his head, "They won't know without further testing but they said it didn't seem too serious. My only concern is that I don't even know when she did it. Or how."

"That does seem to be the question of the day. How the hell did she pull all of that off?" Emily muttered and Derek shrugged, "I don't know, but I did get some information out of her."

"Anything useful?"

"Yeah, well more concerning than anything."

"What does that mean?" Emily asked with a frown.

"It means that not only do we have a serial killer on the loose. But we have one that's obsessed with you, Prentiss." Derek said sympathetically and Emily just stared straight forward into the woods, imagining Y/n leaning against one of the trees and giving her a cocky wink.

"Lovely," Emily muttered. 

Don't Tempt Me (Don't Blame Me, Chapter 2)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Chapter 1

Warnings: Regular CM stuff

Words: 3.3k

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

EMILY STARED at herself in the mirror. Her hair was perfectly curled with bangs sitting just above her eyebrows. The black dress she bought hugged every curve of her body and showed off her toned legs. Emily knew she looked good, but hated the small part of her that wanted to look good. 

A knock on the door made Emily tear her gaze away from the mirror. "Come in!" The brunette called and a couple of seconds later Hotch opened the door and walked into the locker room. "You sure you're up to this?" The unit chief asked, a hint of concern laced his signature frown.

"Yes Hotch, I am the one that suggested it," Emily reminded him as she walked to her locker to grab a pair of earrings. "I know, just double checking," Hotch said. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about this plan, if he could even call it that. It had been less than 12 hours since Emily suggested taking Y/n out on a date. How all of this transpired so quickly was still a mystery to Hotch. There was a higher probability of things going wrong than right, but he knew they had to act fast before Y/n left DC.

"Did Garcia find anything else?" Emily asked as she finished putting her small, silver hoops in.

"Well, she's using a burner phone to text you so we can't trace her. And we can't find her in any database with just a first name, plus it could be fake anyway." Hotch said as he leaned against the frame of the door. "So, in short terms, we have absolutely nothing." Emily sighed and Hotch nodded apologetically. 

"We do have her profile though. And up to this point, she's only ever killed men." Hotch offered and Emily couldn't help but laugh, "She's still an unpredictable, high-functioning psychopath."

"I know, I just..." Hotch trailed off, knowing that there wasn't anything to say to comfort the agent in front of him. "Don't let your guard down and don't do anything stupid." He added.

"Me? Do something stupid? Never." Emily said as she closed her locker and Hotch scoffed before cracking a rare smile. "The cars ready for you," He said getting back on topic, "Derek's going to be there and I have five other undercover agents scattered throughout the bar."

Emily nodded as she gathered her belongings and followed Hotch out the door. "Do you have a plan for when you get in there?" The unit chief asked as the pair walked into the elevator. "I'll make her wait for a little, maybe have Derek talk to her. Get her warmed up a bit and then take her down when she least expects it." Emily said.

"That's it?" Hotch asked slowly, already hating this plan more and more. 

"Well, there's still a chance Y/n knows exactly what she's walking into. And if she does then I'll press the button" Emily said as she held up her wrist. Penelope had given her a bracelet with a small button on it that would alert the team if she pressed it. "I know what I'm doing though, trust me on that."

"Okay, but if at any point I think things are going south I'm sending SWAT in," Hotch said seriously and Emily nodded in agreement. 

As they walked out of the elevator and to the car Emily felt her phone buzz.  She pulled it out of the bag, already knowing who the message was from.

Y/N (6:03 PM)- I can't wait to see you again, Emily.

Emily let out a shallow breath as she reread the message and then pocketed her phone. As soon as she got into the car she closed her eyes, trying to gather herself. She was no stranger to being undercover. In fact, this wasn't even her first undercover case with a serial killer. But it was the first time she had to go undercover as herself. No fake identities or new personas, just regular, old Emily Prentiss. So this should be easy enough, right? Well, at least Emily hoped to God it would be. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

Y/n sat at the bar counter in the same black pantsuit from this morning as she waited for Emily to show up. The brunette had sent her the address to one of her favorite bars, and so far Y/n had been impressed. Although, it was currently 6:40, which meant that Emily was ten minutes late but Y/n wasn't too upset. 

"Now what is a pretty lady like you doing all alone?" A man asked as he slid into the chair next to Y/n. The woman turned her head and was face to face with Derek Morgan. She stared at him, eyes narrowing, and Derek had honestly never felt more scrutinized by someone's gaze until now.

"I'm waiting for someone," Y/n said, her hard look quickly turning into a smile and Derek was surprised by how genuine it looked. 

"I wouldn't make you wait," Derek said with a boyish smile as he leaned closer, his knees bumping into Y/n's as he swerved his chair more in her direction. Derek didn't know what he was expecting, be he did not expect Y/n to place a delicate hand on his knee, "I suppose I have time to kill," She said thoughtfully. "I'm Y/n."

"Derek," The agent said as he placed his hand on top of hers. 

"Ruler of the people," Y/n murmured as she tilted her head slightly.

"Excuse me?" Derek asked, confused as to what she was saying.

"The name Derek. It means ruler of the people," Y/n said as she removed her hand and placed it in her lap. She once again eyed the man up and down and Derek, who usually loved the attention from women, was starting to feel uneasy. 

"The meaning behind a name is just as important as the name, don't you think?" Y/n asked and Derek nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Now, are you going to buy me a drink or are you merely gracing me with your presence?" Y/n asked, her tone sickly sweet even when it was full of sarcasm.

"Oh right," Derek said shaking his head. He couldn't even comprehend how a two-minute conversation was already throwing him off his game, "What do want?"

"Two Old Fashioned's." Y/n smiled and Derek tried not to read into it the fact that that was one of Emily's favorite drinks. Derek waved the bartender down and ordered the drink. When Derek turned back to Y/n he saw that she was surveying the bar, obviously looking for Emily, although the intentions behind her eyes were still unknown to the agent.

"Are you sure you're not getting stood up?" Derek joked and Y/n turned to look at him with a slight eyebrow raise. "I don't get stood up," She said seriously and Derek believed it.

"Two Old Fashioned's!" The bartender said as he placed the drinks on the counter in front of them. From the corner of Derek's eye, he could see Y/n smile as she looked at the door. As soon as he was about to grab the drink, Y/n's hand cut him off and grabbed both of them. 

"Sorry to cut this short Derek, but it seems that my date has arrived." She smiled as she stood up. 

"Wait that was my drink-" Derek started before he was cut off by Y/n, who was behind his chair, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "Not anymore."

Derek hated the way he tensed up but that only made Y/n laugh softly. "We should do this again sometime," Y/n murmured before pulling away and walking to the middle of the bar. Even though he was now nervous for Emily, he couldn't be more relieved to be away from Y/n. There was something about the woman that Derek couldn't shake.

"I was beginning to wonder when you would show up." Y/n smiled as she shamelessly looked Emily up and down. The brunette just shook her head apologetically, "Sorry! I got stuck at work." She said as the two women made their way through the crowd. 

"You look gorgeous," Y/n complimented as she fell into step with the brunette. Emily smiled as her hand easily found its way to Y/n's lower back as she guided her to a table in the corner of the room, "So do you," Emily said and she wasn't lying. The black suit fit Y/n perfectly and it was one of the reasons Emily had been so drawn to her this morning.

"I thought it was a slow day," Y/n threw over her shoulder. "I thought so too." Emily chuckled as they found a table, her hand dropping from Y/n's back as she reached for her drink. She briefly took note that it was her favorite drink, but she also knew that they had a similar taste in coffee so she didn't want to read into that much. 

"So what is it you do, Emily?" Y/n asked as she took a sip of her drink. 

"I'm an accountant with the firm a couple blocks away," Emily lied easily, "And you?"

"I'm a writer." Y/n smiled and Emily tilted her head slightly, "Really?" She asked, not expecting that to have been the younger woman's answer. 

"Yes, well, I'm a ghostwriter if you want to get specific," Y/n answered and Emily frowned, "What does that mean?"

"I write stories anonymously and sell them to authors so they can put their names on them," Y/n said.

"So you do all the work but don't get any credit?" Emily asked, extremely intrigued if the woman in front of her was telling the truth. Although it did make sense, Y/n didn't profile as a narcissist. 

"I do the work and get a big paycheck, darling. I love to write but I don't want the fame that comes with it." Y/n said and Emily brushed her finger against the younger woman's knuckles, "So I take it you're pretty successful. Who do you write for?" The agent asked, suddenly wondering if she had ever read one of Y/n's books.

"I'm afraid that's classified."

"I'll have you know I am nothing if not persistent," Emily grinned, "You went overseas for your job, right? So it's not an American author." Emily pointed and Y/n shook her head amused, "Alright, enough about me," Y/n said as she grabbed onto the brunette's hand, "Come on. Let's dance," She smiled as she began to drag Emily to the middle of the bar.

"Already?" Emily practically yelled as she followed Y/n. The brunette naively hoped that they would have talked longer. It was kind of part of her plan but it seems like that was out the window now. 

"It's never too early to dance," Y/n said as she pulled Emily flush against her in the crowded room. Her hands went to Emily's hips as the brunette threw are arms lazily around Y/n's neck. She couldn't help but stare into Y/n's eyes. Her gaze was soft, eyes reflecting the flashing lights of the bar, and Emily couldn't help but get lost in them. There was something innocent about Y/n's eyes and that was what pulled Emily out of her trance. Because Y/n wasn't innocent, actually she was probably the furthest thing from innocent. Emily took a deep breath and tried to refocus. 

"I never got the chance to finish my drink," Emily said as her body swayed to the music and Y/n followed suit.

"I didn't take you for someone who needs a drink to have fun," Y/n said as she pulled Emily impossibly closer, their noses were less than an inch away. "I'm not," The brunette said, tilting her head and she realized she would have the perfect angle to connect her lips to the soft ones in front of her. Not that she was going to, or wanted to,Emily reminded herself. 

"Oh yeah? Prove it." Y/n smirked as her thumbs brushed against Emily's hipbones. As soon as Y/n did that she felt herself being flipped around so that her back was right up against the brunette's front. Emily snaked her arms around Y/n's waist and hooked her chin on Y/n's shoulder. "Don't tempt me," Emily murmured against the shell of Y/n's ear, and the agent couldn't help but revel in the way Y/n shivered. For the first time tonight, Emily felt like she was the one in control.

"It's fun to rile you up though." Y/n smiled as turned her face towards Emily, her nose brushing against the side of Emily's cheek. 

"You couldn't handle me riled up." Emily chuckled, although her eyes betrayed her when her gaze focused back on Y/n's plush lips for a brief second. She had hoped Y/n hadn't seen it but of course, she wasn't so lucky. 

"Was that a challenge? Because I'll have you know, I love a challenge." Y/n said as she placed her hands on top of Emily's and leaned further back into her. Emily knew this was her chance, granted it came a lot sooner than she thought. But her trained eye saw the opening so she knew she had to take it, "Let's get out of here," Emily murmured into Y/n's ear, "I'll show you what a real challenge looks like." The brunette continued and Y/n immediately unwrapped herself from Emily's arms and dragged the both of them toward the bathroom. 

Emily made brief eye contact with Derek and he raised his eyebrows silently asking if everything was fine. She gave a slight nod, her code to let him know she was fine and to not approach unless she called for backup. The brunette quickly tore her attention away from Derek and to her hand that was interlaced with Y/n's.

Before they could even make it to the bathroom Emily felt herself being pushed against a wall and Y/n's soft lips claimed her own. She was taken back for a second but her hands still instinctively shot to Y/n's hips. It was the way that Y/n's hands made their to Emily's hair and tugged slightly that Emily was brought back to reality. 

She immediately kissed Y/n back, loving the way she could taste the slight hint of citrus. Wait, not loving, she was only doing this so she could arrest Y/n. Emily reminded herself, even though it was very hard to think about anything other than the Y/n's lips felt.

Emily pulled Y/n even closer, practically lifting the woman as her tongue trailed along Y/n's bottom lip. "Let's go back to my place," Emily said, pulling her head away for a brief second and trying to ignore the beautifully kiss-swollen lips in front of her.

"I have a better idea," Y/n murmured as she connected their lips once again, her kiss was hungry and passionate but soft at the same time. Emily tried not to enjoy it, she knew shouldn't. Y/n was a serial killer after all, but did she have to be so good at kissing?!

Emily felt herself being pulled away from the wall but her lips never left Y/n's. She didn't even know where they were going until she heard a door slam shut and a lock click. The agent internally cursed herself for not being attentive enough, but she could still fix this.

"I think we can do better than a quickie in the bathroom," Emily said as she easily flipped the two of them around, pinning Y/n to the wall by her hips. The younger woman gasped in surprise before looping her arms around Emily's neck. Y/n smiled as she started placing kisses along the brunette's defined jawline. She nipped at the spot just below Emily's ear and she tried her best to suppress the moan that wanted to leave her lips. 

"Not much of an exhibitionist, Agent Prentiss?" Y/n said as she pulled back and gave Emily a sadistic smile. 

Emily felt her stomach drop. She should have known this was too easy. Should have known the second laid eyes on Y/n in the bar earlier. But somehow she couldn't think straight whenever she looked at the woman in front of her. 

"What? Do you really think I am that stupid?" Y/n said with a pout as she studied the way Emily's face hardened. "That I would unknowingly walk into your so-called trap?" Y/n chuckled as she twirled Emily's curls in her hands. "And then you had Derek come over and flirt with me? It's quite comical how predictable you are."

"Why'd you come then?" Emily asked, trying to figure out the right moment to call for backup.

"Like I said earlier, I love a challenge." Y/n grinned before flipping them so quickly that Emily didn't have time to fight back before her back hit the wall. "But right now, it's proving to be rather easy," Y/n sighed as she traced Emily's bottom lip, "You and your team were supposed the be the best. But I have to say, I am rather unimpressed."

Emily immediately pulled her head away even though she had nowhere to go since she was still pinned to the wall. "So you knew who I was this morning at the coffee shop," Emily stated, not knowing if that was worse or better at this particular moment.

Y/n eyes lit up as she leaned closer, "No, I didn't know who you were. That part just was luck."

"So lucky," Emily muttered under breath.  

"As soon as I realized who you were, I cursed myself for being so sloppy," Y/n said, ignoring Emily as trailed her finger across her collarbones, "But then I realized that meeting you was a blessing in disguise. Because now I know what I've been missing for all these years."

"And what's that?" Emily asked as she quickly used all of her momentum and knocked both of them to the floor. Y/n's back collided with the ground and Emily straddled her hips to keep her down. The agent pinned her arms above her head and Y/n barked out a laugh as she stared at the woman on top of her, "Bold. I like it."

"Answer my question" Emily gritted out, as her hands tightened against Y/n's wrist. 

"This. I've missed this." Y/n said she leaned her head up, now inches away from Emily's. "The hunt. It's exhilarating. And I am definitely not going to complain about being pinned down by a very beautiful woman." Y/n grinned and Emily just shook her head. "Well, the hunt's over." She said as she leaned closer, their noses almost touching. "We have almost fifty agents waiting out there for you. The only way you're getting out of here is in cuffs." Emily continued and Y/n surged forward so their lips were almost touching, "Don't threaten me with a good time, Agent Prentiss."

Emily stared into Y/n's eyes, not liking the look in them. There wasn't an ounce of fear for someone who had just been caught. The agent racked her brain with the younger woman's profile, she knew she wouldn't go down without a fight. Knew that everything she did was unpredictable but also meticulously planned. There was no way someone of this caliber would walk into a trap and not have a backup plan. 

"I can see the cogs in your brain turning, Agent Prentiss." Y/n grinned and Emily shook her head, "What else are you up to?" She asked, her eyes never leaving the woman's under her. 

"Reach into my back pocket and find out," Y/n said as she wiggled her hips under Emily's weight. Emily rolled her eyes as she took her weight off the younger woman's torso and immediately hauled them both to a standing position. The agent made quick work of repining Y/n's arms behind her back.

She carefully reached into Y/n's back pocket and pulled out a small device. Emily furrowed her eyebrows as she got a better look at it and realized there was a small timer on the front that appeared to be counting down from 2 minutes.

"What is this?" Emily asked as she lifted the device to the other woman's eyes.

Y/n smiled as her eyes went from the device to Emily. "What? You've never seen a bomb detonator before?"

Angel of Death (Don’t Blame Me, Chapter 1)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Warnings: Mentions of death/Typical Criminal Minds stuff

Words: 2.2k

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EMILY TAPPED her foot as she waited in line for her coffee. She was already running late for work and the rainstorm that was passing through D.C. did nothing but dampen her mood. 

"Black coffee with Splenda!" The barista called out and Emily let out a breath of relief as she walked over to the counter. She went to reach for her coffee when her hand collided with someone else. She instinctively pulled her hand back and so did the other person. 

"Oh! I'm sorry, I thought that was mine." A woman's voice said causing Emily to look up. She wanted to be annoyed at the inconvenience but found it very hard as she stared at the woman next to her. "It's alright." Emily smiled as she shamelessly looked the woman up and down. She was in an all-black suit with her hair pulled back, highlighting the features of her face that Emily couldn't help but admire. 

"Well, you look like you're in a hurry. I can wait for the next one." The woman said, pulling Emily out of her head, "Oh, I'm not in a hurry." Emily lied, suddenly more interested in talking to the woman next to her than getting to work on time. 

"The previous scowl on your face would say otherwise." The woman chuckled and Emily grinned, "You were watching me?"

"With a face like yours, it's hard not to, darling." The woman said in a sultry tone and Emily couldn't help the small blush that formed on her cheeks. 

"I'm Y/n," The woman said as she held out her hand. "Emily." The brunette smiled as she took her hand, reveling in the feeling of the Y/n's soft but strong hand.

"Another black coffee with Splenda!" The Barista yelled, causing both women to drop their hands. "Well, I guess our dilemma is solved," Y/n said, flashing Emily a smile as she grabbed both coffees and handed one to the brunette.

"Lucky us," Emily said as she brushed her finger across Y/n's hand, delighted in the way it sent a shiver through the other woman's body. "Lucky us," The woman repeated as she looked the brunette up and down one last time, "It was nice to meet you, Emily," Y/n said, smiling at Emily before she turned on her heels and started towards the door.

"Wait!" Emily said, her legs moving faster than her brain as she followed Y/n. 

"You forgot something," Emily said as she caught up to Y/n, who had almost made it out the door. "I did?" Y/n asked, frowning slightly.

"You forgot to ask for my number," Emily smirked, a dimple popping out and Y/n couldn't help but laugh, "That was an awful pickup line."

"Is it working though?" Emily raised an eyebrow as she waved her phone in front of Y/n. "Just this once," Y/n said as she plucked the phone out of Emily's hand and typed her phone number in, "Although, I wouldn't count on it working on any other women," Y/n said as she handed the phone back to the brunette. 

"Noted," Emily said cheekily and Y/n shook her head amused, "I'll see you around, Emily," Y/n smiled as she walked out the door with a nod goodbye.

"You too!" Emily called out and watched as the other woman chuckled to herself. 

As Emily opened up her umbrella and walked towards Quantico, she realized she didn't hate the rain as much anymore. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Morgan asked as he saw a rare smile on Emily's face as she walked into the bullpen.

"Nothing," Emily shrugged as she sat at her desk and pulled out all the paperwork she needed to complete for the day.

"Fun night?" Derek inquired and Emily rolled her eyes, "Like I would tell you if it was."

"Oh come on Prentiss, it's a slow day. I want the details." Derek pushed, wanting to do anything but his paperwork.

"I for one, would not like the details." Spencer chimed in causing Emily to roll her eyes. 

"Details for what?" JJ asked as she walked next to Emily's desk, carrying another stack of files causing everyone to groan internally. 

"Prentiss' hot date last night." Derek said at the same time Emily said, "Nothing."

"You went on a date last night?" JJ asked raising her eyebrows as she unloaded around 10 case files onto everyone's desk. 

"No, I didn't. And why don't the two of you mind your own business." Emily glared before pulling out her phone, ignoring the groans from her two friends.

She waited for JJ to go back to her office and Derek to pester someone else before pulling out her phone and finding the number Y/n left her. 

Emily (9:03 am): Hi. It's Emily, from the coffee shop.

The brunette agent immediately put her phone down, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to form on her face. It had been an embarrassingly long time since Emily had properly talked to a woman that she hadn't met at a bar with the only intention of hooking up. So the last thing she needed was Derek and JJ's relentless teasing. 

She was just about to open her computer when she felt her phone buzz. She picked up her phone, delighted at how fast Y/n answered her back.

Y/N (9:04 am): I was beginning to wonder when you were going to text me, Emily from the coffee shop.

Emily (9:05 am): Were you waiting for me? How cute.

Y/N (9:05 am): Oh don't flatter yourself, darling. It's a slow day at work. 

Emily( 9:06 am): Oddly enough, same. That's why I went to the coffee shop this morning. Speaking of which, how come I've never seen you there before?

Y/N (9:07 am): I just moved here. My job has had me overseas for the last couple of years.

Emily (9:07 am): I could show you around. Give you a tour of the city. Out of the goodness of my heart, of course. 

Emily smiled at the message, hoping Y/n would agree when she heard the bullpen doors fly open.

"I found her! She's back! She's back!" Penelope yelled as she ran past everyone, ignoring the concerned looks, and made a beeline straight to Hotch's office.

"What's that about?" Emily frowned as she turned her phone off and turned to Spencer. 

"I'm not sure." He said as he stood up and walked over to Emily's desk. "It's Penelope, it could be anything," Derek added as he also found his way to the brunette's desk since she had the best view into the unit chief's office. 

They watched through the window as Hotch's signature frown got bigger and more words were exchanged between the unit chief and technical analyst.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't look good," Emily murmured and the two men nodded their heads in agreement. The agents watched as Hotch turned his head to the window and they scattered, trying to make it look like they weren't spying on the conversation. 

"Conference room. Now." Hotch called out as he stormed out of office followed by a very nervous Penelope. "Well, this should be fun," Derek muttered as the agents stood up and headed to the round table. 

As soon as they entered the room, Emily could feel the tension radiating off Hotch. She turned to look at JJ who had sat next to her and the blonde just shrugged, equally confused as everyone else. 

"Four years ago the D.C. Police Department notified us of several mysterious deaths in Virginia. The only thing connecting them was a single gunshot wound to the head and a small brand left behind every victim's ear." Hotch said as he pulled up pictures onto the TV. Emily squinted her eyes as she studied the screen, "Are those.... angel wings?" Emily asked as she looked at the brand and Hotch nodded in confirmation. 

"Wait I remember this case. It went cold after a couple of weeks. The unsub moved on when she realized we were after her." Derek said, earning a nod of acknowledgment from both Spencer and JJ.  The only two people completely new to the case were Emily and Rossi. Emily joined the team two years ago and Rossi one. 

"How do you know the unsub is a woman?" Rossi asked as he studied the pictures. 

"The kills were organized but personal. And the use of the angel wing had more feminine connotation than masculine." Spencer answered.

"Yeah, the media named her the Angel of Death, before she disappeared," JJ recalled.

"Except she didn't disappear," Hotch said, "Gideon knew that an unsub this skilled wouldn't just stop killing. So, he had Garcia track the signature for the last couple of years," Hotch said, and Penelope quickly walked next to the TV.

"Yes! And for the first year, I thought that maybe Gideon was wrong. Until I hacked Interpol's system." Penelope said as she pulled up dozens of pictures. "In the first year, I found over 34 matches in the signature in about 20 different places in Europe."

"Thirty-four?! Why weren't we notified?" Derek said incredulously.

"It wasn't in our jurisdiction. It's been Interpol's case for years" Hotch said and Emily shook her head, "So wait, 34 kills in her first year? That's unheard of. How many is she up to now?"

Penelope blew out a breath as she hit the remote and so many pictures filled the screen, you could barely make out each face. "If the system is right, her victim count is in the 300s," Hotch said and everyone went quiet in shock. 

"Three hundred? That's- that's about the same number Pedro Lopez had. One of the world's most prolific serial killers." Spencer rambled.

"And now she's back in the States?" JJ asked worriedly, causing everyone to turn to Hotch. 

"Yes, she's actually in DC as of right now," Hotch said, "Early this morning, Ethan Young was shot point blank in the head at his apartment with an angel wing brand behind his ear," Hotch continued, pulling the picture up.

"Since she's in our jurisdiction she's now our responsibility. Here's the preliminary profile that Interpol just faxed over." Hotch said as he had Garcia pass out the file to everyone.  

"You can't be serious man." Derek scoffed as he looked through the file.

"Excuse me?" Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Three hundred kills, no name, and not a shred of evidence. We're looking for a needle in a haystack." Derek said, putting his case file on the table.

"Actually, it's more accurate to say we're looking for a needle in a stack of needles." Spencer chimed in and Emily had to stifle a laugh at the look on Derek's face. 

"We have a partial, identification," Penelope said, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. "Two years ago CCTV footage captured this. One of the victim's wives was able to confirm that was her." The technical analyst said as she pulled up an image that was not only blurry but also showed about 1/4 of her face.

"That's... all we have?" Emily asked slowly and Penelope shook her head fastly, "Of course not! When I got the alert this morning I cross-referenced that image with all the CCTV footage from every airport in Virginia and neighboring states. And I got this." The blonde said as she pulled up a new image, slightly obscured but over half a face was shown.

As Emily stared at the screen she felt her breath get caught in her throat. "Can you zoom in?" Emily said, hating how her shaky voice betrayed her.

As the image got larger Emily just froze. She recognized the woman in the picture. How could she not? She had seen the woman less than an hour ago. Shook her hand. Flirted with her. Got her number. Was texting with her!

"Is something wrong, Prentiss?" Hotch asked, concerned at how pale the brunette had become. 

"I-I think I met our unsub this morning." She said wide-eyed as she stared at the unit chief and multiple 'What's?!' were heard throughout the room. 

"Yeah, I ran into her at a cafe this morning. I- um got her number." Emily said, still trying to wrap her head around everything. "She said her name was Y/n." Emily continued.

"Is that who had you all smiley this morning?" Dererk asked raising an eyebrow and Emily kicked him under the table.

"Knock it off," Hotch said sternly before turning back to the brunette, "Did she know who you were?"

"No, I don't think so. And why would she risk talking to an FBI agent?" Emily ran her fingers through her hair, so many emotions flowing through her mind at once, "It had to have been just a coincidence."

"You got a statistic on that Reid?" Derek scoffed and Spencer tapped his fingers on the table, "The chances of accidentally meeting an unsub and then getting her number? No." Spencer shook his head, not meaning to joke but JJ and Derek still had to stifle a laugh. 

"Well, this is good, right? We're already closer than we were 10 minutes ago." Rossi offered and Hotch shook his head, "Finding her was the easy part. Catching her is the harder part."

"Well, this is just great," Emily said, massaging her temples when she felt her phone buzz. She picked it up, pushing the rest of the team's conversation to the back of her head.

Y/N (9:21 am): That sounds nice. I may have to take you up on that :)

Emily stared at the message. What brought her butterflies twenty minutes ago now filled her with unease. 

"Hey guys, I may have a plan," Emily said, cutting into the conversation. 

"What is it?" Hotch asked and she shook her head, not even believing the words that were about to come out of her mouth. 

"I'm going to take the Angel of Death out on a date."

Emily: Time for plan G.

JJ: Don't you mean plan B?

Emily: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip plan C due to technical difficulties.

Spencer: What about plan D?

Emily: Plan D was that separate disguise attempt half an hour ago.

Rossi: What about plan E?

Emily: I'm hoping not to use it. I die in plan E.

Derek: I like plan E.

JJ: Did you eat my powdered donuts?

Emily: *mouth full of donuts* no.

JJ: Then what's the white powder on your jeans?

Emily: That's cocaine.

Emily: *laying on a pool chair unconscious*

Penelope, panicking: She’s not breathing!

Derek: I’ll give her mouth to mouth!

Emily: *opens one eye* Ew no! Let JJ do it!

*closes eye*

Spencer:

Hotch:

Rossi:

Penelope:

Derek:

JJ: GET OUT OF THE WAY, MOTHERFUCKERS

Emily: I know you must be surprised to see me here.

JJ: Not really, since you follow me everywhere.

Emily: You're a lying, cheating, piece of garbage! You're not the woman I married!

JJ: Then we'll get a divorce! And I'm taking Henry!

Henry, slowly sliding the monopoly board away from them: I think it's time we stop playing...

Emily: You know you've made it when you see your picture up everywhere you go. JJ: Emily... Those are wanted posters.

JJ: What are you thankful for?

Emily: Your pu-

JJ, giving Emily a death glare:

Emily: -ooooositive personality!