The Jazz Hands Killer: Chapter 1
Title: The Jazz Hand Killer
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Rating: PG (at the moment at least)
Summary: Aaron Hotchner is the chief of the BAU, and he takes his job incredibly seriously. But things get personal when a serial killer in New Orleans forces him to cross paths with Dr. Spencer Reid, professor of criminology.
Note: So I love AU's, I adoooore them. And this plot bunny hit me? And I couldn't not run with it. =3 Hope you like it, there should be more soon.
Aaron Hotchner stifled a yawn as he got his coffee from the break room, he was about to jog up the stairs when Morgan reached out a hand to stop him. He turned to his subordinate with a quirked brow, and the look on the darker man's face didn't bode well. “They're at it again, just thought I'd warn you.” Aaron almost groaned aloud, he nodded at the younger man in thanks before starting up the stairs and resolutely ignoring the two men in the office next to his own. He was not going to get in the middle of one of Gideon and Rossi's arguments this early on a Monday.
Of course Rossi stormed through door and threw himself onto Aaron's couch before he could get half done with his coffee and properly caffeinated. The older man had that stormy, frustrated, stubborn look that he always had when he tried to bully Aaron into settling a dispute between him and Gideon. Aaron sighed, “No. Just no.”
“But Aaron-”
Before he could finish there was a hesitant rap at Aaron's door-frame and they looked up to see an almost frightened looking Jordan Todd, and Aaron felt a headache coming on. He just waved at Todd's almost redundant “We've got a case, round table in 10?”
Rossi glared at her until she left, “As I was saying before we were rudely interrupted...”
Aaron's headache was already gathering at the base of his skull, “She's just doing her job Dave and not now, go get ready for the meeting. The argument over who's going to write a paper on the Hankel case isn't anyone's business but yours and for once I refuse to get involved.” He chugged the rest of his coffee, “Now if you'll excuse me I have to go get more coffee, and hopefully a fist full of Tylenol.”
Rossi grunted a bit as Aaron pushed back from his desk and strode out of the room, he attempted a smile at Penelope as he approached the coffee pot. The smile failed and she heaved a sigh, “What're they arguing about now?” She deftly stole his coffee mug and filled it up before fixing it the way he liked it.
Aaron sighed as he poked around the communal first aide kit for some sort of pain pills, “They both want to write a paper on the Hankel case.”
“Do you think they even realize how twistedly gross that is?” She sounded wistful as she held out his coffee, “Headache?”
He nodded miserably as he gave up on the kit and took his coffee from her, “Yeah.”
She smirked and took down the extra container of decaf coffee grounds and opened it to reveal Styrofoam encasing a large pill bottle of Tylenol. Hotch stared at it blankly before looking up at her smirk, “You.....how?”
She looked smug, “You think your the only one who gets headaches around here? Have you heard the way Elle and Emily shout at each other? It's insane. Why they can't just get over it and be friends I have no idea.”
Hotch poured 4 pills into his hand before swallowing all four at once and replacing the bottle, “I think it has something to do with Elle being convinced that Emily bought her position.”
Penelope pursed her lips as she replaced the carton and turned back to him, “I know that much, but it's stupid. They risk their lives almost constantly in the field but still end up hating each other's guts.”
“You don't have to like someone to trust that they wont let you get shot.” Hotch sighed wishing the liquid gels would work instantly instead of taking some time, “Come on then, we should get to the meeting room.”
“Fine but I'm not sitting between them.”
Aaron snorted, “Well, you can sit between Dave and Jason then. God knows I don't want to.”
“I can deal with that.”
“Deal with what?” Morgan's voice was bored as he caught up with them.
Penelope smirked, “That's confidential.” The younger man pouted, and she laughed. “No really that wont work mister, now come on before they eat Jordan.”
Morgan wiggled his eyebrows, “I'd eat Jordan-”
Penelope's gaze turned flinty, “Sometimes Derek Morgan.” She increased her pace and passed the men easily.
Aaron shook his head, “Seriously?”
“It was a joke!” Morgan sounded a bit confused and Aaron was glad he'd already taken his pills.
“Well save the jokes for Elle, she might actually find them funny. Penelope's......well she's.....” Aaron sighed searching for a way to explain why Penelope wouldn't find them amusing without giving away that she was hopelessly in love with Morgan. “She's more classy than that.”
Thankfully they'd reached the conference room by that time and Morgan didn't have time to respond. Penelope avoided both their gazes as the team got settled, and Aaron felt a stab of empathy for her. He understood what it was like to want something you couldn't have, he knew it all too well. He sighed as Jordan bustled into the room and allowed himself to slip into Agent Hotchner mode as the serious work began.
She handed them each a folder containing the pictures and forms “Okay, so there's been a string of murders in New Orleans. They're up to 7, they are a bit late realizing this is a serial killer at all because the victims were all so diverse. They range between blondes, brunnettes, white, black, male, female; even the way they were killed varies from victim to victim. The only things the victims had in common was that they were all Jazz performers, and that there hands were in some way mutilated, the latest's hands were severed completely.”
She paused to look at them all for a moment before sighing, “The latest victim's manager, one Jennifer Jareau, was the one to actually point out to the police that they were connected. Ethan Mann was apparently on the verge of 'making it big', and when he died his manager stormed into the police head-quaters demanding to know why the Jazz community hadn't been warned. She's not pleased.”
Morgan shifted in his seat, “Could she be involved?”
Hotch frowned, “There's that possibility, but it's highly unlikely. These murders were all increasingly violent. And female serial killers...”
“She could be a part of a team?” Emily tapped her lip thoughtfully with a pen.
Elle scoffed, “You always think it's a team.”
Emily scowled, “It was just an idea.”
“It's something to look into. That's good.” Rossi's voice was sharp as he interrupted the two women who were openly scowling at each other.
Jordan cleared her throat, “Well it might help to know that she dragged a friend of the victim in with her to support her claim. He was Dr. Spencer Reid, a professor of Criminal Justice at Loyola.” She raised her eyebrows and there was silence for a moment, before Gideon nodded slowly.
“That....makes it seem much more likely.” The older man sounded thoughtful and he was gazing at the picture of Ethan Mann in a way that Hotch couldn't pin down.
Hotch also noticed Penelope's silence it was off somehow, and she looked stiff. He tried to shake it off as a lingering reaction to Morgan's comment as he stood, “Alright, meet at the plane in an hour then.”
He was slightly shocked when Penelope grabbed his wrist as he left to go, “Sir...” she bit her lip, “Sir I'd like to go with you.”
Aaron blinked, “Why? Wouldn't it be safer for you to stay here?”
She nodded and her frown deepened, “Yes, but I'd still like to go.”
“Can you tell me why?” He studied her face as she shook her head vigorously, “Will you be able to do just as much for us while we're in New Orleans as you could from here?”
She tried to smile, “Of course!”
“Then yes, you can come. But you'll need to tell me if it involves the case at any point.” He didn't know why but the way Penelope's eyes were pleading with him was working more than it would normally. He sighed as she gave a brilliant smile and hugged him. “You'll need to be at the airstrip on time though.” He tried to sound stern, but from the way she nodded and almost skipped away he knew he failed.
~~~~~~~~
Spencer Reid, the youngest man to ever be a fully accredited professor at Loyola University, stared at the thesis in front of him as he numbly graded papers. There was a lingering presser behind his eyes that mirrored the almost crushing pressure in his chest. All he could really think of was Ethan, and how he'd never get to talk to his long time friend again. They'd started out as rivals, but in the end it'd developed into a deep friendship. It had helped that Ethan had dropped Criminology to play Jazz full time, but really they'd been friends long before that. Just increasingly competitive friends, which really only made Spencer appreciate that friendship more. There were very few people that even tried to compete with him intellectually. He'd miss that about Ethan, but he'd miss his friend's husky laugh even more.
He glanced at JJ, who was asleep on his couch, face still puffy from tears and devastation clearly written across her face. Spencer sighed wishing they were different people, that he hadn't been gay or that she'd been a man or that this hadn't happened at all; he knew she needed someone to lean on, he also knew that she needed far more support than he could give. He was barely supporting himself at the moment.
He briefly considered waking her to drive her home, but decided against it. She needed rest, Ethan had been her best friend and she'd loved him far more than Ethan had known. Spencer had always been aware that JJ was in love with his friend, it'd been too easy to spot since he'd felt the same way; he'd long wondered if JJ'd figured him out as well but she'd never mentioned it.
He sighed and abandoned the paper, it was too early to go to sleep but he knew he at least needed caffeine before he could finish. He tried to be as silent as possible as he eased open the hall closet to pull out a light blanket to cover his friend with, it was a testament to how exhausted she was that she barely stirred as he tucked her in.
He gazed down at her briefly wishing they were different people, before turning to his kitchen to make coffee. It'd be a very long day, especially since he was very aware that the first suspects the FBI would have in mind were JJ and himself. It'd take some convincing to force them to realize that it hadn't been either of them, but Spencer was determined to help find the person who'd killed his friend.
The FBI took longer to show up than he'd thought, and as he answered the door he realized he was frowning. “It took you people long enough.”
He was greeted by a tall brown man and a short pale woman with severe bangs and a prominent nose, both looked nonplussed by his greeting. The man spoke first, “Um, I'm Agent Derek Morgan and this is Agent Emily Prentiss and we'd like to ask you a few questions ab-”
“I know what you want to ask, and that's fine. But please, give me a moment to wake JJ she's still asleep and you'll want to question her as well.” Spencer knew his tone was sharp and that he was being incredibly hostile but he couldn't find it in him to care.
The woman narrowed her eyes at him, “JJ? You mean Jennifer Jareau? She's here?”
Spencer fought the urge to twitch, “Yes.” he turned sharply, leaving them to follow or not. They'd wasted precious time already, and he couldn't find it in him to care that he was being rude.
JJ hadn't stirred since that morning, and he felt incredibly guilty waking her. But as he gently shook her shoulder he caught sight of the agents hovering awkwardly in the doorway and knew he had no choice. As she blinked at him he wondered in a detached sort of way what they'd think about him from his decorating, or non-decorating as the case would be.
JJ shook her head slightly as she struggled to sit up, “Spence? I had...the weirdest dream. It was terribly...E-ethan was killed and we....” She blinked at him for a moment and he could tell from her face that she could tell from his that it hadn't been a dream. Tears welled up in her eyes again and he swallowed thickly, “Oh Spence.” The devastation in her voice naturally lead to him pulling her into an awkward hug, and she sniffled against his shirt.
“Jayj. The FBI are here, they have to ask us some questions. I warned you about this remember?” She nodded against his chest before pulling away.
She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes, “I remember. Do they want to do it here or...?”
They both jerked to look at the two strangers when the man said, “The station would be better, also it'd be easier to rule you out as suspects if we could get finger prints and DNA.”
JJ nodded wanly and again Spencer wished things were different, but they weren't. So in the end he allowed the agents to pack him and JJ into the back of a black SUV to take them into the station. He wondered about just what this would be like, he'd never been on this side of the law before.
But as soon as they'd walked into the tall brick building that was the police station there was a very loud, “OH MY GOD IT IS YOU!” and suddenly JJ was being swept into a hug by a very blonde woman that Spencer had never seen.
What happened afterward was chaos, and Spencer could feel a migraine coming on. Suddenly JJ was sobbing, and the brown man was shouting at the blonde woman, and the blonde woman was shouting back, and then the woman with the bangs said something soothing and another woman made a comment and before long Spencer had lost track of who was doing/saying what. Finally though there was silence when someone behind Spencer slammed a door and they all turned to see a tall man with dark hair glaring at them.
“Penelope you'll bring Ms. Jareau and Mr. Reid with us as we get their prints and DNA. The rest of you have a job to do, and I expect you to get back to doing it. Now.” his voice was measured, calm, and in an odd way commanding. Spencer felt a small part of himself swoon, even as the rest of him glared at it. But there was something about that man, Spencer wanted to know more.