Criminal Minds Amazing Race: Leg One: 5/5
(for warnings see part one here)
Criminal Minds Amazing Race: Leg One: USA to Sweden
Team: Aaron 'Hotch' Hotchner and Erin Strauss (co-workers)
Day Three: Stockholm Central Station, 6.00
They climb out of the taxi in front of Stockholm Central Station an hour after the train are meant to have started running, and take a moment to stand on the pavement and read the signs around them.
They’ve left the IKEA before most of the others had even woken up, along with one other team who’d made the same choice as they had the night before. It had been a surprise to actually find Taxis at the Taxi rank, but Hotch had the feeling word had gotten around. All eight of the teams that had been on the two later flights had been camped out around the IKEA, and Hotch felt for them. Where the three teams that had managed to get the IKEA taste done the night before had the possibility of an early start with the trains, they had to wait until ten for the store to open.
Hotch makes the decision to head to the entrance of the station, remembering from the night before that there had been an information and ticket booth there. Strauss trails behind, their instructions in hand, as well as the remnants of their allowance.
The man behind the booth looks far too awake for the time of morning, but Hotch guesses he must be used to it. “Hi, we need to get to Haggvik Station?”
Strauss appears next to him, offering the man their instruction, pointing out the name of the station. The man smiles and nods, “One way?”
They exchange a look, before Strauss leans forward, “Is there a day pass? Or is it cheaper to buy two separate tickets?”
There’s a pause as the man considers what they’ve asked, and then he tells them the cost of each and they discuss it for a moment before deciding on a single ticket. They don’t know if they’ll be coming back, so it’s safer to go for that option and save the money for if they need it. Tickets brought they head down to their platform and stand waiting for the train.
It’s the J36 line, according to the information that Hotch has managed to find, and it looks like Haggvik is the seventh station they’ll reach, if he’s reading the boards right. It’s not too long before the train pulls in, and the climb aboard, finding space for them to sit and have their bags on the floor in front of them.
They spend most of the journey in silence, which is nothing new, though Hotch is very aware of the fact that the other team, who are sitting further down the carriage, seem to be talking for most of it.
They get off the train at Haggvik, thanks to the big signs that are visible through the train windows, and they make their way outside, coming to a stop as they catch sight of the line of tandems bikes and the accompanying helmets. More noticeable still are the cameras mounted on the front of each bike.
“Oh wonderful,” Strauss mutters, glaring at their cameraman when he laughs.
Hotch hums his agreement, while considering how exactly to they should arrange themselves. If he takes the front seat, there’s no way that Strauss is going to be able to see where they’re going, but if he takes the back, he’ll be able to see, but he won’t be able to steer. He frowns, glancing at Strauss, to find her giving him a look that says she’s already figured out what he’s thinking.
Hotch sighs, his shoulders slumping a little, but he doesn’t argue as she moves forward, picking up a helmet and strapping it on before she selects a bike and claims the front seat. Hotch follows, putting on his own helmet before climbing on behind her. It takes a moment for them to get started, then a little longer for them to find a pace that they’re both comfortable with.
They head out of the station car park behind the other team, and at a more sedate pace, but they’re both aware of the time they have before the other nine teams will catch up with them, even if they know that it isn’t really that long. Not in the grand scheme of things.
Hotch is very aware of his legs muscles as they cycle, and he’s seriously regretting the choice to sleep on a stone bench the night before. The only positive is that they’d had enough food on them to eat for breakfast, even if the food itself hadn’t exactly been what was generally accepted as breakfast food.
They’re aware of the production team, in their cars, following behind them, but they focus on following the route markers, their surroundings becoming more and more rural as they travel. It’s a good thirty minutes before they reach a field full of hay bales, and a familiar box.
Hotch holds the bike steady while Strauss dismounts, before he does the same, laying it down on the edge of the field before following her over to the box, waiting as she pulls out one of the envelopes and opening it. Hotch winces, it’s a road block, and the only things in sight are the hay bales and a farm. He can guess where this is going, and considering that, he can guess which of the two of them will be doing the task.
“Who has Hay Fever?” Strauss reads, the tone of her voice making her opinion clear, then looks up at the hay bales, then sideways to Hotch. He sighs, swinging his backpack down off his back, and rolling his shoulders before nodding for her to continue reading. “There are two hundred and seventy hay bales, twenty of which have clues hidden in them.”
Hotch eyes the field for a long moment, watching as the nominated member of the other team rolls a bale on the other side of the field, throwing handfuls of hay around every so often. He sighs again, before stretching carefully then making his way into the field, aware of Strauss’ gaze on him.
He doesn’t think he’s likely to get all that much encouragement from her while he’s rolling hay bales.
He picks one at random, keeping a distance between him and the other man, and pulls the loose netting off the outside of the bale before he starts rolling.
He’s on his third bale when he takes a break, leaning against the bale for a moment, before he starts rolling again, sighing as he runs out of hay to roll. He really doesn’t want to think about how many bales he’s going to have to unroll before he finds the damn clue. He’s already starting to feel the pull, all too aware of where each of the scars on his chest and arms are.
After his fifth fails to turn up a clue, he turns to Strauss, “Which one?”
She frowns, eying the bales critically for a moment before she points to one a little way across the field. It’s as good a guess as any, so he crosses to it and rips the netting off and starts rolling. And like the five previous bales, it fails to produce a clue.
He looks up, waving at the bales and waiting for her next choice, ignoring the strange look that some of the other teams throw their way. It’s not like they’re choosing bales with any better logic, and Hotch knows that the lead they’d started with in the morning is quickly vanishing, with every empty hay bale.
She points to one just to his left and he nods, ripping off the netting and starting the bale rolling. He knows that he could probably just rip the thing to pieces, but he doubts it would do his hands any good, and he’d rather avoid making himself bleed if possible.
He’s almost ready to give up on it as another dud with he catches a glimpse of a yellow and black card. Hotch digs through the hay, grabbing hold of the edge of the card and pulling it out, relieved to not have to pick yet another hay bale.
He walks back across the field slowly, knowing that he’s going to need to preserve energy to get back on the tandem and head wherever the clue needs them to.
“Well done,” Strauss offers him a smile and his bottle of water, taking the clue from his hands, “I couldn’t have done it.”
He smiles a little, recognising the words for what they are, “Thanks.” He waits, taking a drink of his water while she scans their instructions.
“We have to go back to the station and head back to Stockholm, where the pit stop for this leg is located.”
Hotch nods, taking a last sip of his water before screwing the lid back on and pushing into his backpack. It doesn’t take them long to climb back onto the tandem and head off, back the way they came.
It seems to take less time to get back to the station then it took to get to the hay field, but Hotch thinks it probably just seems that way because this time they knew where they’re going.
They buy their return ticket, and board the train heading for Stockholm, and the pit stop, hoping that they won’t be the last ones there.
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Criminal Minds Amazing Race: Leg One: USA to Sweden
Team: Aaron 'Hotch' Hotchner and Erin Strauss (co-workers)
Day Three: Stockholm Central Station, 6.00
They climb out of the taxi in front of Stockholm Central Station an hour after the train are meant to have started running, and take a moment to stand on the pavement and read the signs around them.
They’ve left the IKEA before most of the others had even woken up, along with one other team who’d made the same choice as they had the night before. It had been a surprise to actually find Taxis at the Taxi rank, but Hotch had the feeling word had gotten around. All eight of the teams that had been on the two later flights had been camped out around the IKEA, and Hotch felt for them. Where the three teams that had managed to get the IKEA taste done the night before had the possibility of an early start with the trains, they had to wait until ten for the store to open.
Hotch makes the decision to head to the entrance of the station, remembering from the night before that there had been an information and ticket booth there. Strauss trails behind, their instructions in hand, as well as the remnants of their allowance.
The man behind the booth looks far too awake for the time of morning, but Hotch guesses he must be used to it. “Hi, we need to get to Haggvik Station?”
Strauss appears next to him, offering the man their instruction, pointing out the name of the station. The man smiles and nods, “One way?”
They exchange a look, before Strauss leans forward, “Is there a day pass? Or is it cheaper to buy two separate tickets?”
There’s a pause as the man considers what they’ve asked, and then he tells them the cost of each and they discuss it for a moment before deciding on a single ticket. They don’t know if they’ll be coming back, so it’s safer to go for that option and save the money for if they need it. Tickets brought they head down to their platform and stand waiting for the train.
It’s the J36 line, according to the information that Hotch has managed to find, and it looks like Haggvik is the seventh station they’ll reach, if he’s reading the boards right. It’s not too long before the train pulls in, and the climb aboard, finding space for them to sit and have their bags on the floor in front of them.
They spend most of the journey in silence, which is nothing new, though Hotch is very aware of the fact that the other team, who are sitting further down the carriage, seem to be talking for most of it.
They get off the train at Haggvik, thanks to the big signs that are visible through the train windows, and they make their way outside, coming to a stop as they catch sight of the line of tandems bikes and the accompanying helmets. More noticeable still are the cameras mounted on the front of each bike.
“Oh wonderful,” Strauss mutters, glaring at their cameraman when he laughs.
Hotch hums his agreement, while considering how exactly to they should arrange themselves. If he takes the front seat, there’s no way that Strauss is going to be able to see where they’re going, but if he takes the back, he’ll be able to see, but he won’t be able to steer. He frowns, glancing at Strauss, to find her giving him a look that says she’s already figured out what he’s thinking.
Hotch sighs, his shoulders slumping a little, but he doesn’t argue as she moves forward, picking up a helmet and strapping it on before she selects a bike and claims the front seat. Hotch follows, putting on his own helmet before climbing on behind her. It takes a moment for them to get started, then a little longer for them to find a pace that they’re both comfortable with.
They head out of the station car park behind the other team, and at a more sedate pace, but they’re both aware of the time they have before the other nine teams will catch up with them, even if they know that it isn’t really that long. Not in the grand scheme of things.
Hotch is very aware of his legs muscles as they cycle, and he’s seriously regretting the choice to sleep on a stone bench the night before. The only positive is that they’d had enough food on them to eat for breakfast, even if the food itself hadn’t exactly been what was generally accepted as breakfast food.
They’re aware of the production team, in their cars, following behind them, but they focus on following the route markers, their surroundings becoming more and more rural as they travel. It’s a good thirty minutes before they reach a field full of hay bales, and a familiar box.
Hotch holds the bike steady while Strauss dismounts, before he does the same, laying it down on the edge of the field before following her over to the box, waiting as she pulls out one of the envelopes and opening it. Hotch winces, it’s a road block, and the only things in sight are the hay bales and a farm. He can guess where this is going, and considering that, he can guess which of the two of them will be doing the task.
“Who has Hay Fever?” Strauss reads, the tone of her voice making her opinion clear, then looks up at the hay bales, then sideways to Hotch. He sighs, swinging his backpack down off his back, and rolling his shoulders before nodding for her to continue reading. “There are two hundred and seventy hay bales, twenty of which have clues hidden in them.”
Hotch eyes the field for a long moment, watching as the nominated member of the other team rolls a bale on the other side of the field, throwing handfuls of hay around every so often. He sighs again, before stretching carefully then making his way into the field, aware of Strauss’ gaze on him.
He doesn’t think he’s likely to get all that much encouragement from her while he’s rolling hay bales.
He picks one at random, keeping a distance between him and the other man, and pulls the loose netting off the outside of the bale before he starts rolling.
He’s on his third bale when he takes a break, leaning against the bale for a moment, before he starts rolling again, sighing as he runs out of hay to roll. He really doesn’t want to think about how many bales he’s going to have to unroll before he finds the damn clue. He’s already starting to feel the pull, all too aware of where each of the scars on his chest and arms are.
After his fifth fails to turn up a clue, he turns to Strauss, “Which one?”
She frowns, eying the bales critically for a moment before she points to one a little way across the field. It’s as good a guess as any, so he crosses to it and rips the netting off and starts rolling. And like the five previous bales, it fails to produce a clue.
He looks up, waving at the bales and waiting for her next choice, ignoring the strange look that some of the other teams throw their way. It’s not like they’re choosing bales with any better logic, and Hotch knows that the lead they’d started with in the morning is quickly vanishing, with every empty hay bale.
She points to one just to his left and he nods, ripping off the netting and starting the bale rolling. He knows that he could probably just rip the thing to pieces, but he doubts it would do his hands any good, and he’d rather avoid making himself bleed if possible.
He’s almost ready to give up on it as another dud with he catches a glimpse of a yellow and black card. Hotch digs through the hay, grabbing hold of the edge of the card and pulling it out, relieved to not have to pick yet another hay bale.
He walks back across the field slowly, knowing that he’s going to need to preserve energy to get back on the tandem and head wherever the clue needs them to.
“Well done,” Strauss offers him a smile and his bottle of water, taking the clue from his hands, “I couldn’t have done it.”
He smiles a little, recognising the words for what they are, “Thanks.” He waits, taking a drink of his water while she scans their instructions.
“We have to go back to the station and head back to Stockholm, where the pit stop for this leg is located.”
Hotch nods, taking a last sip of his water before screwing the lid back on and pushing into his backpack. It doesn’t take them long to climb back onto the tandem and head off, back the way they came.
It seems to take less time to get back to the station then it took to get to the hay field, but Hotch thinks it probably just seems that way because this time they knew where they’re going.
They buy their return ticket, and board the train heading for Stockholm, and the pit stop, hoping that they won’t be the last ones there.
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