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“We need all feet on the ground. It’s going to be crowded, but Winchester has been spotted near Times’ Square,” Hotch announces on the plane. “Our mission is to find him and detain him without drawing attention to ourselves.”
“It’s New Year’s Eve, it’s going to be impossible to find him in Times' Square,” Prentiss complains.
“He’s one in a million,” Reid says.
“What? He’s a serial killer.”
“No, I mean that according to the official resources, an estimated one million people watch the ball drop from Times’ Square on New Year’s Eve,” he elaborates. “The actual number is most likely under one hundred thousand, by calculating how many people could reasonably fit within a square meter. But humans tend to overestimate crowds 10- or even 100-fold.”
“So he’s one in a hundred thousand,” Rossi replies dryly.
“Yes.”
“We’ll be assisted by the NYPD, but they are already on their feet, keeping the peace around Times’ Square. We have an hour to find him.”
—
5 minutes.
Everybody is talking as Hotch pushes himself through the crowd, very wary of the gun on his hip, hidden under his coat. His eyes gloss over faces and heads and hats, looking for the criminal they’re looking for.
He’s bold, Sam Winchester. He’s let himself be spotted in a very public space. He must know that they’re after him.
Perhaps it’s just a ploy. To distract them while he and his brother slip away, out of their grasp once again.
Hotch knows the team is also considering it. But they have a duty. It’s New Year’s Eve. He may have let his guard down.
4 minutes.
Emily hates crowds of drunk men looking for a New Year’s kiss. She’s trying to do her job, but everywhere around her are men trying to stop her to ‘talk’. Resorting to stomping on feet and a half-assed apology before she pulls away from their grappling hands.
She’s fully capable of shooting their dicks off at range (someone ought to thank her girlfriend Elle for that), but they’ve been tasked to lay low. Not draw attention to themselves.
But lots of men have their attention on her anyway, and Emily’s tired of it.
Maybe she ought to ask Elle to marry her. They’ve been steady for years, it would be the right time.
Sometimes Emily hates her job and wishes she could spend more time, more time like this, with Elle and Sergio. Elle’s working a steady job, but she knows the BAU, and she knows Emily.
That’s all she can ask for, really.
3 minutes.
Derek is already sick and tired of having to lay low. He’d much rather yell ‘FBI! Sam Winchester, hit the deck!’ than doing all this sneaking around. They’ve tried to keep in touch, but there are too many people to check and not enough time. Dammit, they don’t have enough time.
Once the ball drops there’s going to be a ruckus, and in that ruckus, Sam Winchester will disappear. Like he always does.
Derek hates them. There’s no other word for it. He hates the Winchesters and he’s not ashamed of it. The things they’ve done? It deserves hatred.
Mutilation, torture, even starvation, they’ve been tied to, it’s disgusting and despicable and completely inhuman. Sometimes they can’t even ID the victims, they’re too mangled.
If Derek sees Sam, he’s not sure he’ll be able to face the others after. Because he might just pull the trigger in the middle of the crowd.
2 minutes.
Somewhere, across a sea of people, Hotch swears he sees a mop of hair they’d identified earlier in the evening as belonging to Sam Winchester. But by the time he’s pushed his way through the crowd, Sam is gone. Looking around, Hotch seeks out the brown hair, but there are too many people.
He can’t make out the shape of the man he thought he saw.
Perhaps he’d never seen Winchester at all. Perhaps he was nothing but a trick of the low light.
1 minute.
Spencer finds himself in a small opening that’s closing fast as everyone around him starts counting down, and he takes the moment to breathe deeply. To calm himself.
59. 58. 57. 56.
He has never liked crowds. He always feels like he’s being stared at constantly, that he’s being too gangly and his elbows are pointy and jabbing people. Spencer never feels as awkward as he does in a crowd.
The breathing room helps to settle him, and after closing his eyes, he opens them again, only to find himself right in front of Sam Winchester. Spencer’s hand goes to his belt, to his gun, but it isn’t there. Where is–
He cuts himself off as he sees the glint of metal in Winchester’s hand.
55. 54. 53. 52. 51.
“Well, agent, looks like we’re out here alone,” Winchester grins, tucking Spencer’s gun away under his jacket, seemingly into the back of his pants to free his hands. “Are you alone, or do you have a team looking for me too?”
“We’re all here, Sam, you’re not going to be able to escape.”
“Yeah?” Sam tilts his head and leans forward as the crowd counts down.
45. 44. 43. 42.
“I found him,” Spencer says into his comm, hearing affirmatives from the teammates, assuring him they are coming towards him.
“Come now, Spence, don’t be like that,” and for a moment, Spencer’s breath hitches. Spence. Only one person calls him that.
“Not here.”
40. 39. 38. 37.
“Then where else? We’re here, it’s New Year’s Eve, come now, Spence, let’s ring in the new year together,” Sam urges, and he’s so eager. It’s so juxtaposed with how Sam stole the gun off of him. “Tell me, Spence…”
34. 33.
“Have you ever had a New Year’s kiss?”
Spencer shakes his head. “No, I haven’t, Sam.”
30. 29. 28.
His left hand moves back towards his cuffs, ready to grab them when Sam moves, flows, really, around him, snatching the handcuffs from the agent.
27. 26. 25.
“Looking for these?” Sam taunts, grinning as he hides them somewhere on his person.
22. 21. 20.
“Sam–”
“You’re not in a position to berate me here,” Sam reminds him. “I’m the one with the gun and the cuffs. One wrong move, and you’re a goner, right here on New Year’s Eve. And wouldn’t that be a shame?”
15. 14.
“You’re threatening a special agent.”
12. 11. 10.
“Never even had a New Year’s kiss. Shame,” Sam hums, reaching up and cupping Spencer’s cheek.
8. 7.
He leans away from it, only for Sam to catch him around the waist with his other arm.
6. 5.
“Come on, Spence, let’s not be a distraction,” Sam mutters against his ear.
4.
“Sam, no, my team–”
3.
“Let them come.”
2.
“Hold on, Sam–”
1.
Sam kisses him, holding him in place, and Spencer melts against him, his fingers clutched in the lapels of Sam’s coat to steady himself.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Sam’s still a good kisser, Spencer thinks as he sighs against Sam’s lips. And then the moment is over and Sam pulls back, grasping Spencer’s wrists as he looks over his shoulder.
“We’ll meet again soon, I promise,” Sam mutters, and while the crowd roars, Spencer is disoriented enough that Sam manages to close Spencer’s own cuffs around his wrists. And before he can do anything, Sam winks at him and walks away, leaving Spencer stranded in the middle of Times’ Square with his hands cuffed together.
And the key in a pocket he can’t reach.
Damn you, Sam.
Turning around, Spencer grimaces. Because there’s Hotch, and Emily, and Derek, all approaching him.