(no subject)
Title: Need of Valour
Author: GlassSnowdrop
Rating: T
Pairing: Emily/OC, Morgan/Reid, Garcia/OC
Summary: The BAU team travel to London to help out Scotland Yard with a case involving an unsub obsessed with Greek Mythology. Scotland Yard enlist the help of a young professor, and things get interesting.
If all men were just, there would be no need of valour.
-Agesilaus
“This melancholy London- I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.” -William Butler Yeats
At 8 am on a Tuesday morning the shrill ring of a phone broke the silence in the BAU bullpen. JJ, a bit frightened, picked up the phone and responded professionally to the voice on the other end.
“Guys,” she said, poking out of her office, “conference room in 5 minutes.” The five agents nodded and Morgan got up to tell Garcia.
“I feel like this week’s been longer than it has any right to,” Emily said with a groan.
“It’s only Tuesday,” said Reid.
“Exactly.”
Reid smiled and continued typing something furiously. The team tied up loose ends of what they were working on and migrated into the smaller room, settling in their normal places.
JJ had files at each of their places and she was shuffling a few around in her hands when everybody entered.
“We’ve been invited by Scotland Yard in London to help out on this case, so pay attention,” JJ began.
“London?” Hotch asked.
“Yes, this case is a big one and they don’t want any publicity on it. They said that they need the best and you are the best.” There was no argument from the team on that statement. “Anyway, there have already been four murders, and here’s where it gets weird. The body’s have all been posed and decorated to look like the Gods of Greek mythology.” The team studied the pictures in front of them. One was a woman dressed in a white robe stained red with a crushed peacock feather stuck in her clothing and a strand from a willow tree wrapped around her neck. The second was a woman in a white rope, the bottom of which had been scorched, along with her legs. The third picture was a man in the same white toga as the women, whose knees had been smashed in with a hammer. The fourth was another male with his thumbs cut off and blood covering him.
“Oh my god,” Emily said, scanning the pictures. “These are horrific.”
“I know, which is why we’re going to help them out.”
“They’re staged as Greek Gods,” Reid said, narrowing his eyes.
“What?” Morgan asked.
“Look at the first one. The willow branch and the peacock feather are both symbols of Hera, Goddess of matrimony and childbirth. The second woman has a scorched dress and legs indicating Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth. The man whose knees have been bashed in obviously represents Hephaestus, God of blacksmiths and artisans who was lame at his birth. The last one is Hermes, God of thieves, which is why his thumbs are cut off. This is…fascinating.”
“And completely horrifying,” Morgan added.
“Well yes. I wasn’t implying it wasn’-“
“Anyway, the police are afraid he’s going to kill 8 more people before his cycle is complete,” JJ finished.
“8 other Gods,” Rossi said.
“The jet leaves in an hour. We’ll go over the case more on the plane.”
An hour later the jet was taking off for Heathrow Airport, London with seven agents inside.
“Where were the bodies found?” Hotch asked JJ once they’d leveled off and were moving smoothly through the air.
“They were all found in different public parks or gardens around the city. No security footage, no witnesses, nothing. The women had been kept for days before they were killed, but the men were killed within 24 hours of being taken.”
“Who were they?” Morgan asked.
“The woman staged as Hera, as Reid said, is Lydia Wells, 25, she was a secretary for the King, Smith and Wells law firm. Her husband Andrew Wells is one of the partners of the firm. The second woman is Sandra O’Dell, 30, she was unemployed living off of the inheritance her parents left her. The man staged as Hephaestus was Jonathan Gable, a 27-year-old jeweler in London from Manchester on a business trip. He has a wife, Susan and a baby girl back home. The fourth victim is Corey James, 29, a banker. His wife Karen reported him missing and then found his body when she took the dog for a walk.”
“Did any of them have criminal records? Anything to target them?” Emily asked.
“We don’t have access to that information right now,” JJ said. “Scotland Yard had been very forthcoming so far and they’ve breached traditional protocol by asking our help, but they need us in their office before they can give us anymore information. Guys, I think it’s really important that we all understand just how massive it is for Scotland Yard to ask for our help on this case.”
“I can’t even believe it really. I know the FBI would have to be stretched to its thinnest to ask for help from another countries force,” Hotch said, looking through the case details.
“I’ve never been to London before,” Garcia said excitedly.
“Me neither,” Morgan said, sitting next to her on the couch.
“I haven’t been there since I was in highschool. It’s a strange city,” Emily said, staring out the window.
“What do you mean strange?” Reid asked.
“Well, it’s exciting definitely, but it’s almost suffocating itself in sadness. Trust me, you’ll feel it.”
When they arrived 5 hours later, it was 7 pm London time and they were all tired from the flight. At the airport, they saw a large black SUV parked outside the terminal, a man in a grey suit leaning against it. His hair was silver and curly, tucked back behind his ears. His face and body movements looked inconsistent with his suit and tie.
“Detective Chief Inspector Soren?” JJ asked, walking over.
“Agent Jareau?”
“Yes.” They shook hands. “Detective Chief Inspector Soren, this is the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA Derek Morgan, SSA Emily Prentiss, SSA David Rossi, Dr. Spencer Reid, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” They all shook hands and mumbled their hellos.
“I feel we can drop formalities, if that’s alright with you so please call me Luke. It’ll be easiest this way. I’m taking you to the New Scotland Yard building, but we really don’t want to rush you into this tonight. We want you to rest up a bit before we begin working. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, but I think we’d all like a run down of the case before,” Hotch said.
“That can be arranged. Have you ever been to London before?”
“Only Prentiss.”
“And what did you think of our fair city?”
“I’ve never been able to forget it,” she said honestly, but misleading him.
He smiled and glanced back in the mirror.
They arrived some time later, and it was dark outside. The team stepped out of the car and shivered in the evening chill and they understood what Prentiss meant. The building they stood outside of was tall, with black windows staring onto the street and a large sign proclaiming it to be the New Scotland Yard.
“There’s a room all set up for you, as well as a hotel with a few rooms booked down the street.”
“Thank you for arranging everything for us, we really appreciate it,” JJ said as they walked inside.
“It’s the least we could do. It’s really us who should be thanking you for flying all the way here and agreeing to cooperate with us on this. We don’t have a Behavioral Analysis Unit as such, and you are world renowned.”
“We’re honored and more than willing to help.”
“Wonderful!” He lead them through the dark building, past the occasional office with tired detectives pouring over case files, and one or two busy janitors sweeping discarded coffee cups from corners.
“Here we are,” Luke said opening a door and switching the light on. A drab conference room much like the one back in Quantico waited for them. “Not much personality, I’m sorry, but I’m sure Penelope here can help you out with that.” He smiled at Garcia who smiled back and blushed a little, setting her computer equipment down. Nobody noticed Morgan’s slightly furrowed brow or his half step towards Garcia.
“If you’ll excuse me I can fetch my partner,” Luke said, ducking out and walking briskly down the hall.
“Ooo, looks like somebody’s got a little crush on Garcia,” Emily said with a grin to Penelope who shook her head but couldn’t successfully banish the smile from her face.
“He’s cute, too,” JJ pointed out.
“Ladies, please. We’re supposed to be working,” Morgan said.
“No need to get jealous, Morgan,” Hotch joined in with a smile. Morgan rolled his eyes, feeling overpowered and slumped into one of the chairs.
“Agents, this is Detective Chief Inspector Adele Madden.”
“Just Adele,” the woman said. She was smiling, with a round face that looked strange on her skinny body. “Thank you so much for helping us with this investigation. We’ve always been jealous of your unit. Maybe now they’ll listen to us and believe we have a need for people like you here.”
“Maybe,” Hotch said, stepping forward. “Aaron Hotchner, but you can call me Hotch.” Lydia shook his hand.
“Dr. Spencer Reid.”
“Penelope Garcia, I’m the technical analyst.”
“Derek Morgan.”
“Emily Prentiss.”
“Jennifer Jareau, but everybody calls me JJ.”
“David Rossi, Dave’s fine.”
“I’ve read your books, Ag-Dave,” she corrected herself before continuing. “They were fascinating.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Rossi answered.
“Anyway, Adele is a bit more knowledgeable on the case than I but when we figured out the ties to Greek mythology after the second killing, we brought in our own expert on the matter. She should be here soon,” Luke said, checking his watch.
“She’s never on time, so don’t hold your breath,” Adele said, sitting down at the head of the table. The rest of the team sat down ad Adele began briefing them.
“We’re referring to the victims by the God or Goddess they were staged as, simply for clarity’s sake. So far they’ve been a secretary, unemployed, a jeweler, and a banker. None of them have any ties linking them- not people, jobs, or hometowns. Hera was from London, Hestia from Glasgow, Hephaestus from Manchester, and Hermes from Slough.”
“I’m here!” They heard a yell faintly from the hallway.
“That’d be her, she’s early for her standards,” Luke said, slightly amused.
They heard rushed footsteps and a woman appeared in the doorway, slightly disheveled. She was wearing dark jeans, a blue dress shirt tucked in, and a tweed blazer with the sleeves pushed up.
“Hello.” She dropped her leather shoulder bag and pushed a strand of black hair from her face. “You must be the FBI guys, and girls,” she corrected herself in fluent tones.
“Yes, these are agents Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Dave Rossi, Emily Preniss, Dr. Spencer Reid, and technical analyst Penelope Garcia from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Agents, this is Briseis Pennant, a Professor of Greek Mythology at University College London.”
“Briseis, that’s an interesting name,” Reid said. “She was Achilles’ lover in Troy,” he explained to the team.
“Well, eventual lover. We can’t forget captive and unwilling slave came before hand.”
“He that will not apply new remedies must expect new evils; for time is the greatest innovator.” -Francis Bacon
Hey! I hope this chapter wasn't too rambling. it's been a while since I've written any fanfiction with the intention of publishing it on the site...I promise it'll get more interesting soon (when the romance starts). And no, this is not a Reid/OC story although I know it seems like that's the direction it's going in. PLEASE REVIEW! ta!
Author: GlassSnowdrop
Rating: T
Pairing: Emily/OC, Morgan/Reid, Garcia/OC
Summary: The BAU team travel to London to help out Scotland Yard with a case involving an unsub obsessed with Greek Mythology. Scotland Yard enlist the help of a young professor, and things get interesting.
If all men were just, there would be no need of valour.
-Agesilaus
“This melancholy London- I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.” -William Butler Yeats
At 8 am on a Tuesday morning the shrill ring of a phone broke the silence in the BAU bullpen. JJ, a bit frightened, picked up the phone and responded professionally to the voice on the other end.
“Guys,” she said, poking out of her office, “conference room in 5 minutes.” The five agents nodded and Morgan got up to tell Garcia.
“I feel like this week’s been longer than it has any right to,” Emily said with a groan.
“It’s only Tuesday,” said Reid.
“Exactly.”
Reid smiled and continued typing something furiously. The team tied up loose ends of what they were working on and migrated into the smaller room, settling in their normal places.
JJ had files at each of their places and she was shuffling a few around in her hands when everybody entered.
“We’ve been invited by Scotland Yard in London to help out on this case, so pay attention,” JJ began.
“London?” Hotch asked.
“Yes, this case is a big one and they don’t want any publicity on it. They said that they need the best and you are the best.” There was no argument from the team on that statement. “Anyway, there have already been four murders, and here’s where it gets weird. The body’s have all been posed and decorated to look like the Gods of Greek mythology.” The team studied the pictures in front of them. One was a woman dressed in a white robe stained red with a crushed peacock feather stuck in her clothing and a strand from a willow tree wrapped around her neck. The second was a woman in a white rope, the bottom of which had been scorched, along with her legs. The third picture was a man in the same white toga as the women, whose knees had been smashed in with a hammer. The fourth was another male with his thumbs cut off and blood covering him.
“Oh my god,” Emily said, scanning the pictures. “These are horrific.”
“I know, which is why we’re going to help them out.”
“They’re staged as Greek Gods,” Reid said, narrowing his eyes.
“What?” Morgan asked.
“Look at the first one. The willow branch and the peacock feather are both symbols of Hera, Goddess of matrimony and childbirth. The second woman has a scorched dress and legs indicating Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth. The man whose knees have been bashed in obviously represents Hephaestus, God of blacksmiths and artisans who was lame at his birth. The last one is Hermes, God of thieves, which is why his thumbs are cut off. This is…fascinating.”
“And completely horrifying,” Morgan added.
“Well yes. I wasn’t implying it wasn’-“
“Anyway, the police are afraid he’s going to kill 8 more people before his cycle is complete,” JJ finished.
“8 other Gods,” Rossi said.
“The jet leaves in an hour. We’ll go over the case more on the plane.”
An hour later the jet was taking off for Heathrow Airport, London with seven agents inside.
“Where were the bodies found?” Hotch asked JJ once they’d leveled off and were moving smoothly through the air.
“They were all found in different public parks or gardens around the city. No security footage, no witnesses, nothing. The women had been kept for days before they were killed, but the men were killed within 24 hours of being taken.”
“Who were they?” Morgan asked.
“The woman staged as Hera, as Reid said, is Lydia Wells, 25, she was a secretary for the King, Smith and Wells law firm. Her husband Andrew Wells is one of the partners of the firm. The second woman is Sandra O’Dell, 30, she was unemployed living off of the inheritance her parents left her. The man staged as Hephaestus was Jonathan Gable, a 27-year-old jeweler in London from Manchester on a business trip. He has a wife, Susan and a baby girl back home. The fourth victim is Corey James, 29, a banker. His wife Karen reported him missing and then found his body when she took the dog for a walk.”
“Did any of them have criminal records? Anything to target them?” Emily asked.
“We don’t have access to that information right now,” JJ said. “Scotland Yard had been very forthcoming so far and they’ve breached traditional protocol by asking our help, but they need us in their office before they can give us anymore information. Guys, I think it’s really important that we all understand just how massive it is for Scotland Yard to ask for our help on this case.”
“I can’t even believe it really. I know the FBI would have to be stretched to its thinnest to ask for help from another countries force,” Hotch said, looking through the case details.
“I’ve never been to London before,” Garcia said excitedly.
“Me neither,” Morgan said, sitting next to her on the couch.
“I haven’t been there since I was in highschool. It’s a strange city,” Emily said, staring out the window.
“What do you mean strange?” Reid asked.
“Well, it’s exciting definitely, but it’s almost suffocating itself in sadness. Trust me, you’ll feel it.”
When they arrived 5 hours later, it was 7 pm London time and they were all tired from the flight. At the airport, they saw a large black SUV parked outside the terminal, a man in a grey suit leaning against it. His hair was silver and curly, tucked back behind his ears. His face and body movements looked inconsistent with his suit and tie.
“Detective Chief Inspector Soren?” JJ asked, walking over.
“Agent Jareau?”
“Yes.” They shook hands. “Detective Chief Inspector Soren, this is the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA Derek Morgan, SSA Emily Prentiss, SSA David Rossi, Dr. Spencer Reid, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” They all shook hands and mumbled their hellos.
“I feel we can drop formalities, if that’s alright with you so please call me Luke. It’ll be easiest this way. I’m taking you to the New Scotland Yard building, but we really don’t want to rush you into this tonight. We want you to rest up a bit before we begin working. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, but I think we’d all like a run down of the case before,” Hotch said.
“That can be arranged. Have you ever been to London before?”
“Only Prentiss.”
“And what did you think of our fair city?”
“I’ve never been able to forget it,” she said honestly, but misleading him.
He smiled and glanced back in the mirror.
They arrived some time later, and it was dark outside. The team stepped out of the car and shivered in the evening chill and they understood what Prentiss meant. The building they stood outside of was tall, with black windows staring onto the street and a large sign proclaiming it to be the New Scotland Yard.
“There’s a room all set up for you, as well as a hotel with a few rooms booked down the street.”
“Thank you for arranging everything for us, we really appreciate it,” JJ said as they walked inside.
“It’s the least we could do. It’s really us who should be thanking you for flying all the way here and agreeing to cooperate with us on this. We don’t have a Behavioral Analysis Unit as such, and you are world renowned.”
“We’re honored and more than willing to help.”
“Wonderful!” He lead them through the dark building, past the occasional office with tired detectives pouring over case files, and one or two busy janitors sweeping discarded coffee cups from corners.
“Here we are,” Luke said opening a door and switching the light on. A drab conference room much like the one back in Quantico waited for them. “Not much personality, I’m sorry, but I’m sure Penelope here can help you out with that.” He smiled at Garcia who smiled back and blushed a little, setting her computer equipment down. Nobody noticed Morgan’s slightly furrowed brow or his half step towards Garcia.
“If you’ll excuse me I can fetch my partner,” Luke said, ducking out and walking briskly down the hall.
“Ooo, looks like somebody’s got a little crush on Garcia,” Emily said with a grin to Penelope who shook her head but couldn’t successfully banish the smile from her face.
“He’s cute, too,” JJ pointed out.
“Ladies, please. We’re supposed to be working,” Morgan said.
“No need to get jealous, Morgan,” Hotch joined in with a smile. Morgan rolled his eyes, feeling overpowered and slumped into one of the chairs.
“Agents, this is Detective Chief Inspector Adele Madden.”
“Just Adele,” the woman said. She was smiling, with a round face that looked strange on her skinny body. “Thank you so much for helping us with this investigation. We’ve always been jealous of your unit. Maybe now they’ll listen to us and believe we have a need for people like you here.”
“Maybe,” Hotch said, stepping forward. “Aaron Hotchner, but you can call me Hotch.” Lydia shook his hand.
“Dr. Spencer Reid.”
“Penelope Garcia, I’m the technical analyst.”
“Derek Morgan.”
“Emily Prentiss.”
“Jennifer Jareau, but everybody calls me JJ.”
“David Rossi, Dave’s fine.”
“I’ve read your books, Ag-Dave,” she corrected herself before continuing. “They were fascinating.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Rossi answered.
“Anyway, Adele is a bit more knowledgeable on the case than I but when we figured out the ties to Greek mythology after the second killing, we brought in our own expert on the matter. She should be here soon,” Luke said, checking his watch.
“She’s never on time, so don’t hold your breath,” Adele said, sitting down at the head of the table. The rest of the team sat down ad Adele began briefing them.
“We’re referring to the victims by the God or Goddess they were staged as, simply for clarity’s sake. So far they’ve been a secretary, unemployed, a jeweler, and a banker. None of them have any ties linking them- not people, jobs, or hometowns. Hera was from London, Hestia from Glasgow, Hephaestus from Manchester, and Hermes from Slough.”
“I’m here!” They heard a yell faintly from the hallway.
“That’d be her, she’s early for her standards,” Luke said, slightly amused.
They heard rushed footsteps and a woman appeared in the doorway, slightly disheveled. She was wearing dark jeans, a blue dress shirt tucked in, and a tweed blazer with the sleeves pushed up.
“Hello.” She dropped her leather shoulder bag and pushed a strand of black hair from her face. “You must be the FBI guys, and girls,” she corrected herself in fluent tones.
“Yes, these are agents Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Dave Rossi, Emily Preniss, Dr. Spencer Reid, and technical analyst Penelope Garcia from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Agents, this is Briseis Pennant, a Professor of Greek Mythology at University College London.”
“Briseis, that’s an interesting name,” Reid said. “She was Achilles’ lover in Troy,” he explained to the team.
“Well, eventual lover. We can’t forget captive and unwilling slave came before hand.”
“He that will not apply new remedies must expect new evils; for time is the greatest innovator.” -Francis Bacon
Hey! I hope this chapter wasn't too rambling. it's been a while since I've written any fanfiction with the intention of publishing it on the site...I promise it'll get more interesting soon (when the romance starts). And no, this is not a Reid/OC story although I know it seems like that's the direction it's going in. PLEASE REVIEW! ta!