Chapter Text
“Okay, guys, before we get to today’s briefing, there’s someone you need to meet.” Jennifer Jareau worked as she spoke, aligning papers and placing her laptop on the briefing room table. She clicked her remote a couple of times, sparking the TV to life. In the corner, a journalist in his mid-20s shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“This is Michael Hale. He’s a sophomore sociology student at the University of Virginia- a family friend. He’s doing a project about how people come together under stress, and I invited him to shadow us on this case. I imagine it’ll be quite stressful, and I think this team will make great source material.”
Prentiss was the first to speak, standing up to shake the boy’s hand. “Emily Prentiss. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her blinding smile and impeccable manners made JJ scoff a little. The rest of the team eyed the man uneasily.
“It’s a pleasure to be here!” Hale smiled. JJ coughed, glaring at Reid. Of course, the man didn’t understand her non-verbal plea to introduce himself, but Hotch got the message loud and clear.
“I’m Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Call me Hotch.”
“Wait, I’m terrible at remembering names.” The journalist pulled a yellow notepad out of his satchel, a gesture that reminded everyone of their own sociology expert, who looked on in amusement. “Hotch,” he murmured, scrawling the man’s name in pen.
Hotch continued, unphased. “That’s David Rossi, I’m sure you’ve heard of him. That one is Dr. Spencer Reid, you might have heard of him too.” Reid waved, putting on his you’re-a-stranger-to-me-but-hello smile. Morgan rolled his eyes, picking up where Hotch left off.
“I’m Derek Morgan, and that angel is Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst. She’s not in the field.”
“But I’m just as special as all the other boys and girls!” Garcia beamed, bracelets jangling as she waved.
Hale looked up from his notebook and cast a timid smile across the room. “Well, pretend I’m not here, as they say! I may ask some questions from time to time but I’m trying to get a read on your everyday behavior. So don’t hold back or anything for my sake.” With that, he sat down near the front of the room, sticking his notebook back in his bag.
The blonde liaison glanced over the room, clocking everyone’s hidden expressions almost instantly. Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan shared amused glances, no doubt mentally profiling the reporter. However, there was a hint of anxiety present as the stranger breached their meeting room, with Rossi staring intently at the notebook sticking out of the man's satchel. JJ brushed it off and continued presenting the case.
“Okay! This is Pressley King, found dead in her apartment 24 hours ago by Indianapolis Police. She has signs of severe torture, but no sign of forced entry into her apartment. Even more concerning is that she was placed at the dinner table over a pile of old mail, dated about a week ago. This MO is consistent with one other murder 6 months ago in Utah, but no DNA can be placed at either scene.”
“Any witnesses? Neighbors?” Reid suggested.
“Nothing. Landlord said he figured she was on vacation, and stated that he never touched the pile of mail sitting on her doorstep.”
Hotch grabbed a copy of the case file and strode across the room. “Let’s all start at Indianapolis headquarters, and decide who goes to Utah from there. Wheels up in 20. Garcia, while we’re on the jet you can start examining any connections between the two victims.”
“Got it,” Garcia nodded dutifully. The room lit up with activity as the BAU prepared to leave, retrieving case files and go-bags from various places around the office. Morgan tossed a playful smile over his shoulder.
“You ever been on a jet, Mike?”
“Uh, I can’t say that I have!” The young man stumbled as he stood up.
Reid gave his fellow agent’s bicep a squeeze as they exited the room together. “It’s kinda hard to pretend he’s not here if you tease him, Derek.”
“All right, all right, I’ll lay off.” The two giggled as they went. JJ smiled and shook her head, brushing past a mildly confused Hale left in the briefing room. He blinked, reached for the pen in his pocket, and rushed to catch up with the team.
//
“Alright, I’m thinking Reid and JJ will stay in Indiana, analyze victimology, and begin constructing the profile. Prentiss and Morgan, you two should head to Utah, interview the family of the first victim and see if we can spot any patterns. Dave and I will visit Pressley King’s apartment.”
The plane hummed as they flew over fields of green, fluffy clouds dotting the landscape. Papers were spread out over the small table that Hotch stood over, lightly drumming his fingers on the wood.
“Sounds good to me,” Morgan obliged, not meeting the eyes of his unit chief.
“Wait,” Rossi came up behind Hotch, peering over his shoulder. He contemplated for a moment and then continued. “Don’t you think we should check out the Utah scene first? I mean, if we can verify that this case crossed state lines, we won’t even need to check in with Indianapolis PD.” The rest of their team eyed their superior with bated breath, anticipating his reaction.
Hotch spun to face the senior agent. “I think concentrating on Indiana first will be a more productive use of our time. If our unsub shows any signs of devolution, we need to be there in case he strikes again.”
“Well,” Rossi continued, looking Hotch in the eyes. Reid’s own eyes widened, flashing Prentiss and Morgan an “oh shit” glare. “There’s no evidence to suggest he won’t just travel again. Plus, the extensive torture means his kills take weeks, maybe even months. It’ll be more helpful to analyze his first kill to see where he might go next, because it’s unlikely he'll stay in Indiana. ”
JJ cleared her throat. “Guys, can we just-”
“Dave, c'è qualcosa che non va? Se pensi davvero che la tua strada sia migliore, possiamo provare…” Hotch lowered his voice, speaking to his colleague in hushed Italian.
Hale, who was observing the situation, cocked his head and scribbled something in his notebook. Everyone on the team sat up a little straighter.
“Guys…” Prentiss laughed nervously.
Rossi softened. “Voglio solo prevenire il maggior numero di morti possibile, proprio come te.” The pair looked at each other with understanding. “Scusa per il mio sfogo, amore mio.”
At that choice of words, Prentiss drew in a sharp breath and turned towards the outsider, who looked very interested indeed. After a few seconds, he began writing in his notebook again. Reid buried his face in his hands while Hotch gave Rossi’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “Stessa cosa per me.” He turned towards the team again. “I think Dave might be right. After we finish investigations in Indianapolis, we’ll go to Utah and figure out where the unsub might strike next.”
After a few moments, Morgan spoke again. “Well that, uh, sounds like a plan!” A hint of a tease graced his comment. Prentiss snorted and went back to the case file, as Reid looked over Hotch and Rossi with an accusatory smile.
JJ sat down as the plane prepared to land. Over the sound of turbulence, Prentiss' sing-song voice could be heard breaking the uncomfortable silence.
"Hotch and Rossi sitting in a tree-"
The boys laughed and joined in.
"K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
JJ then considered the idea that inviting a reporter into the life of their supposedly-prestigious unit might have been a mistake.