Drive a Crooked Road [FanFic]
Title: Drive a Crooked Road
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Reid, Emily, some Hotch & Morgan
Rating: FRT
Summary: As Reid recovers from his stabbing he works with Emily Prentiss on finding Jordan Todd...and are confronted with plans of Hotch and Morgan's own.
Notes: This is the twelfth piece in The Todd Case of my Noir AU "Living For the Night" (thanks let_it_linger21 for the name). Again, first person (this time from Reids's POV), dark, gritty, real noir title, and some cursing.
The skin of my stomach is still sore; it’s red and raw and angry at the stitching of the wound. The black threading stands out against my skin and pokes out at the ends to catch the fabric of my clothing in my movements. It catches as I shower too, one time I nearly pull a stitch free with a jagged nail.
I want to return to the office the next day, but Hotch tells me no. He tells me I can work from Lila’s or home for the next few days. This time I’m left out of the action I’m given a legit task though; to focus on where Jordan Todd might be if she were still alive…and if she were dead. I stay with Lila for a day or two then have her drop me back off at my apartment at Bright Cliffs.
I turn the heat way up and stay shirtless to let air get to the wound as I spread maps and markers and pins over the floor. I have a basic knowledge of every mile of Quaint Cove, but a basic knowledge won’t cover it. I’ve only been in a small section; I need someone who’s seen more, who can explain the ins and outs of the terrain and people in more detail. I need someone who lives here.
I call up Garcia. She sends me concerned words, warms wishes, and Emily Prentiss.
From what I can tell nobody knows what to do with her. Hotch doesn’t want her left on her own, he doesn’t trust her, so he’s keeping her busy. Now I’m keeping her busy, I guess, but at least this time it’s clear I’m the one doing the babysitting.
***
She announces her arrival with two sharp knocks and her name.
I finish coloring in a section of medium probability before picking myself off the floor and going to answer the door.
“You always answer your door half-dressed, Dr. Reid?” she questions with a dirty little smirk.
Standing aside I let her in with my reply, “I need to, uh, get air to my wound to aid the healing process.”
“That why the heat’s way up?”
“You ever tried being bare-chested in any temperature below 55?” I let my amusement color my voice.
Emily turns and teases. “Of course.”
I give a small, unsure, laugh as I go to shut and lock the door. “Uh…anyway…” I head over to my colored map, “I’ve been looking over the geography of the city and while I can certainly eliminate hiding locations of a captive or, uh, body, based on population density and proximity to other locales I need a little help in better understanding the, um, culture of each section.”
“Do you ever say anything normal, Dr Reid?”
“Just Reid is fine and, uh, I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
Emily gives a laugh, “Now you know how I feel. You want to know what, exactly?”
“What the people are like at any given location.”
“Okay.”
I can tell she’s still not getting it so I drop to my knees at the map, “Well, for example, the red indicates places of medium probability that Todd is there.”
“Okay.” I hear the rustle of a jacket being removed.
“But I’m going just by how many people live in that location, not by what the people are like. Are these residents nosy? Would they call someone if they thought something was going on?”
I look over as the raven-haired femme drops beside me and decide to just be grateful, today, there’s a silk shirt under the black jacket she's pulled off. “Nosy residents are dead residents anywhere you go in this town,” she mutters. “But…” she leans some to examine the map better, “the swamplands is mostly where you stick dead people, not living. If Jordan’s alive it’s more likely to be along the tracks.”
“The noise?” I suggest her reasons.
“The noise.” She confirms.
I grab a marker and begin to color the length of the train tracks before frowning, “That’s, uh, way too much land to cover. Even if we stuck to the boundaries of the city itself it’s too much.”
“Hence its popularity,” Emily sighs out, “lots of hiding space and trains to drown out the sounds of screaming.”
I let out a “Hmmm…” as a hand goes to my wound to scratch.
A strong, but feminine, hand goes to grab my wrist, “Trust me, Reid, you do not want to accidentally pull those threads holding you together.” I smile awkwardly as she lets go and I set my hand on the floor. “You really think Hotch is going to find Jordan?”
“Yes.”
“Why so sure?”
I shrug a little, “Because I, uh…don’t think he’ll stop until he does.” It was a simple reason, but an honest one. Hotchner just didn’t seem the type to give up. Ever.
I return to my markers and map.
“Meanwhile everyone around him is getting their asses handed to them by that fucker, Foyet.”
I’d heard about Garcia getting pulled in and about Morgan fighting him into a suspension. Both wins for the bad guys. Both blows to the case.
“Maybe Hotchner’s not the right guy for this job?”
“Well, like you say, nosy residents are dead residents,” I point out, keeping focus on my map, “Maybe Hotch is just, you know, working in quiet so he doesn’t raise alarms that’ll get Jordan killed?”
“Maybe he’s just a fucking coward? I mean, don’t you think we ought to do more to be finding her?”
Now I look up at her. “Who sent you to Hotch, Emily?”
“Does it matter?”
“Well whoever did clearly thought he was capable of helping you so, maybe, you should trust that person’s opinion and just…stick with us.”
“I think whoever has Jordan is going to kill her and they’re going to frame Rossi for it.”
I stay mute as I process the complete change in topic before asking, “What makes you say that?”
“Gut?” She suggests before letting out a sigh and working her way to rest against my couch. “Lots of people would love to see Rossi fall, try and take over his businesses, and honestly it’d probably be easier to get him on some throw-away crime of passion than what he’s really into.”
“So you don’t think Rossi is capable of murdering a lover?”
Emily gives a small laugh. “Rossi’s a lover, not a fighter, when it comes to women.” I was never good at hiding my disbelief so she sees it immediately. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s not some pussy cat, but more often than not the domestics are with the girl doing to the violence, not him.”
I can’t help but give a sly smile, “That include you?”
“Once or twice,” she confesses with a laugh that I try hard not to join in on. “But I always made it up to him.”
I make a slight unnerved face, “I’ll, uh, just take your word for it.” She laughs more and my nerves get the better of me so that my hand goes to my stitches again.
“Reid,” her voices pauses my hand, “do I need to tie your hands behind your back?”
“Um…uh…no.” I go red with embarrassment at being caught. “It’s just, um, itchy.”
“I gathered.”
Her tone is only mildly patronizing so I let it slide.
“Does Rossi use the trains in his business?”
“Of course.”
“So he might know some good places to hide people.”
“I guess. You think, maybe, we should go talk to him?”
I give a laugh as I work myself up from the floor. “I don’t think that’s a very wise move.”
“Why not?”
“Well first cause I’m not all that thrilled to return to the scene of my own stabbing.”
Emily nods her understanding without a smile this time.
“You want something to drink?”
I hear sounds of Emily getting up as I head towards the kitchen. “Sure,” she replies, “what do you have?”
“Water, OJ, milk, tea, coffee, and I can make just about any drink you can think of.” I go to a cabinet and pull out a few glasses, “I also have, uh, absinthe but that’s not exactly conducive to the type of analysis we need to be doing right now.”
“Absinthe? Really?”
She can’t believe it.
“Yeah, you ever had it?”
“Yes I have.” Her heels click their way into the kitchen. “I’m surprised you have though.”
“I grew up in Vegas.”
“So, naturally, you would drink absinthe.”
“Naturally.” I throw her a teasing smile. I’m not about to give her any more. Sometimes a little mystery between two people is good. “So, what would you like, Emily?”
“How about…a Bad Habit?”
“Coming right up!”
I move to get the Peach Schnapps and then the Vodka from the freezer.
“You didn’t even ask what it was.” She points out, just this side of impressed.
“I know what it is,” I reply, “Vegas, remember?”
“There’s a lot about you that we don’t know, isn’t there, Dr Reid?”
“Tons.”
She laughs a little as she watched me mix our drinks. It doesn’t take her long to speak up again. “We really do need to talk to Rossi.”
“I, uh…I know. I just,” I take a moment to pour out her drink, speak once more as I had it over, “don’t think speaking to him at his club, with all his, uh, thugs, around is going to get us anywhere.”
I put the schnapps away, grab a cola out the fridge, and pour it in my glass before adding the vodka.
“Maybe we should get him to come to us then?”
I watch her lips hover over the edge of her glass before it gives her drink a kiss.
Before I risk staring I cast my eyes down to sip my own.
She swallows then speaks. “This is really good.”
I swallow. “Thanks. So, um…any ideas of, uh…how to get Rossi to, uh, come to us?”
“Tons.” She smirks a little. “But I don’t know if any will make Hotch all that thrilled.”
“If any involve you as bait, probably not.”
She nods and shrugs knowing I’m right.
There’s a mile long silence of us sipping and watching one another before she sets the half-emptied glass on the counter “Well we can always see if Hotch has any ideas of his own?”
“Let’s, uh, call him.”
Emily grabs up her drink once again only to down it in two long swallows and leave the glass in the sink. “Screw that, let’s get to the office and start this now.”
I hesitate, then finish my drink in three swallows, “Fine, collect my map and things, I’ll go get dressed.”
***
We’re in her car heading to the office in no time…and I’m really starting to wish people would let me drive. Emily drives as fast as Hotch, but slightly less controlled seeing as she insists she can drive and smoke at the same time. She can’t.
“You know a little aloe vera on the wound might help with the itchiness.” Emily calls out over the engine.
I hadn’t even noticed my hand was at my stomach. “I wasn’t itchy, I was nervous.” I smile a little,
“About?”
“You thinking we’re driving in the demolition derby.” I crack.
She laughs.
She also screeches the car to a halt when we arrive at the building.
Hotch and Morgan are both already there, piling things into the trunk of Hotch’s car. I’m guessing weapons. The two men stand, but only one smiles as we get out.
“Told ya we wouldn’t hafta call ‘em,” Morgan grins his way through his sentence.
“What’s going on?” Emily’s already to the trunk with the men as I try not to vomit into the nearest trashcan from her driving.
“We’re going to speak with Rossi.” Hotch informs her.
“With an artillery?” She glancing into the trunk.
Morgan chuckles, “You know a better way to bust in on a mobster’s poker game when he doesn’t want ya there?”
Emily’s nodding silently by the time I find my way over to the group. I clear my throat a little before speaking. “So…uh…Emily and I were talking and, uh, we should ask Rossi about the train tracks.”
“Train tracks?” A single brow of Hotch’s arches.
“It’s possible Rossi’s being set up.” Emily speaks and Hotch nods along. “If he is then the train tracks would be a great place to stash Jordan, dead or alive.”
Hotch’s nod stops as he goes to cover the small arsenal with a tarp. “Then we’ll ask him about the major stretches he might use that others would know about.”
“Can, uh, I uh…ask a question?” I butt in.
Hotch’s eyes flick to me and he waits.
“I just, you know, um, thought we were playing this…uh…you know…quiet?”
“We need something big to get a man like Rossi’s attention.” Morgan chuckles out.
Hotch gives an almost reluctant smile to Morgan’s comment. “We need to show Rossi that he’s in over his head on the men he’s chosen to employ. I’m guessing, on some level, he already knows but I aim to make it a little clearer this time around.”
“Also, it’s a little harder to play cocky with a buncha folks waving guns in your face.” Morgan chimes in once more. I’m starting to think he’s just eager to kick a little ass.
“So basically we shake his tree and see what information falls out his mouth.” Emily’s smiling. She also seems ready for a little ass-kicking.
“And that should, uh, loosen him up on whatever he was holding back on in his club?” The pieces are starting to fly together for me.
“Yes.” Hotch answers. Unlike the others he’s all business.
Emily smiles, “Sounds like a plan.”
“A good one.” I concur. I’m generally not up for the kicking of asses (because I’m too often on the receiving end), but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.
Morgan’s grin widens, “So let’s go bust some heads.”
"It's time to prove to your friends that you're worth a damn. Sometimes that means dying, sometimes it means killing a whole lot of people." ~ Dwight, Sin City
Next Section:
The Turning Point
Previous Sections:
Nightgale's Welcome Me
On Dangerous Ground
Safe Passage
The Big Scare
The Third Man
The Stallion: Part 1
The Stallion: Part 2
Trouble is My Business
Detour
Night Moves
I Love Trouble
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Reid, Emily, some Hotch & Morgan
Rating: FRT
Summary: As Reid recovers from his stabbing he works with Emily Prentiss on finding Jordan Todd...and are confronted with plans of Hotch and Morgan's own.
Notes: This is the twelfth piece in The Todd Case of my Noir AU "Living For the Night" (thanks let_it_linger21 for the name). Again, first person (this time from Reids's POV), dark, gritty, real noir title, and some cursing.
The skin of my stomach is still sore; it’s red and raw and angry at the stitching of the wound. The black threading stands out against my skin and pokes out at the ends to catch the fabric of my clothing in my movements. It catches as I shower too, one time I nearly pull a stitch free with a jagged nail.
I want to return to the office the next day, but Hotch tells me no. He tells me I can work from Lila’s or home for the next few days. This time I’m left out of the action I’m given a legit task though; to focus on where Jordan Todd might be if she were still alive…and if she were dead. I stay with Lila for a day or two then have her drop me back off at my apartment at Bright Cliffs.
I turn the heat way up and stay shirtless to let air get to the wound as I spread maps and markers and pins over the floor. I have a basic knowledge of every mile of Quaint Cove, but a basic knowledge won’t cover it. I’ve only been in a small section; I need someone who’s seen more, who can explain the ins and outs of the terrain and people in more detail. I need someone who lives here.
I call up Garcia. She sends me concerned words, warms wishes, and Emily Prentiss.
From what I can tell nobody knows what to do with her. Hotch doesn’t want her left on her own, he doesn’t trust her, so he’s keeping her busy. Now I’m keeping her busy, I guess, but at least this time it’s clear I’m the one doing the babysitting.
***
She announces her arrival with two sharp knocks and her name.
I finish coloring in a section of medium probability before picking myself off the floor and going to answer the door.
“You always answer your door half-dressed, Dr. Reid?” she questions with a dirty little smirk.
Standing aside I let her in with my reply, “I need to, uh, get air to my wound to aid the healing process.”
“That why the heat’s way up?”
“You ever tried being bare-chested in any temperature below 55?” I let my amusement color my voice.
Emily turns and teases. “Of course.”
I give a small, unsure, laugh as I go to shut and lock the door. “Uh…anyway…” I head over to my colored map, “I’ve been looking over the geography of the city and while I can certainly eliminate hiding locations of a captive or, uh, body, based on population density and proximity to other locales I need a little help in better understanding the, um, culture of each section.”
“Do you ever say anything normal, Dr Reid?”
“Just Reid is fine and, uh, I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
Emily gives a laugh, “Now you know how I feel. You want to know what, exactly?”
“What the people are like at any given location.”
“Okay.”
I can tell she’s still not getting it so I drop to my knees at the map, “Well, for example, the red indicates places of medium probability that Todd is there.”
“Okay.” I hear the rustle of a jacket being removed.
“But I’m going just by how many people live in that location, not by what the people are like. Are these residents nosy? Would they call someone if they thought something was going on?”
I look over as the raven-haired femme drops beside me and decide to just be grateful, today, there’s a silk shirt under the black jacket she's pulled off. “Nosy residents are dead residents anywhere you go in this town,” she mutters. “But…” she leans some to examine the map better, “the swamplands is mostly where you stick dead people, not living. If Jordan’s alive it’s more likely to be along the tracks.”
“The noise?” I suggest her reasons.
“The noise.” She confirms.
I grab a marker and begin to color the length of the train tracks before frowning, “That’s, uh, way too much land to cover. Even if we stuck to the boundaries of the city itself it’s too much.”
“Hence its popularity,” Emily sighs out, “lots of hiding space and trains to drown out the sounds of screaming.”
I let out a “Hmmm…” as a hand goes to my wound to scratch.
A strong, but feminine, hand goes to grab my wrist, “Trust me, Reid, you do not want to accidentally pull those threads holding you together.” I smile awkwardly as she lets go and I set my hand on the floor. “You really think Hotch is going to find Jordan?”
“Yes.”
“Why so sure?”
I shrug a little, “Because I, uh…don’t think he’ll stop until he does.” It was a simple reason, but an honest one. Hotchner just didn’t seem the type to give up. Ever.
I return to my markers and map.
“Meanwhile everyone around him is getting their asses handed to them by that fucker, Foyet.”
I’d heard about Garcia getting pulled in and about Morgan fighting him into a suspension. Both wins for the bad guys. Both blows to the case.
“Maybe Hotchner’s not the right guy for this job?”
“Well, like you say, nosy residents are dead residents,” I point out, keeping focus on my map, “Maybe Hotch is just, you know, working in quiet so he doesn’t raise alarms that’ll get Jordan killed?”
“Maybe he’s just a fucking coward? I mean, don’t you think we ought to do more to be finding her?”
Now I look up at her. “Who sent you to Hotch, Emily?”
“Does it matter?”
“Well whoever did clearly thought he was capable of helping you so, maybe, you should trust that person’s opinion and just…stick with us.”
“I think whoever has Jordan is going to kill her and they’re going to frame Rossi for it.”
I stay mute as I process the complete change in topic before asking, “What makes you say that?”
“Gut?” She suggests before letting out a sigh and working her way to rest against my couch. “Lots of people would love to see Rossi fall, try and take over his businesses, and honestly it’d probably be easier to get him on some throw-away crime of passion than what he’s really into.”
“So you don’t think Rossi is capable of murdering a lover?”
Emily gives a small laugh. “Rossi’s a lover, not a fighter, when it comes to women.” I was never good at hiding my disbelief so she sees it immediately. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s not some pussy cat, but more often than not the domestics are with the girl doing to the violence, not him.”
I can’t help but give a sly smile, “That include you?”
“Once or twice,” she confesses with a laugh that I try hard not to join in on. “But I always made it up to him.”
I make a slight unnerved face, “I’ll, uh, just take your word for it.” She laughs more and my nerves get the better of me so that my hand goes to my stitches again.
“Reid,” her voices pauses my hand, “do I need to tie your hands behind your back?”
“Um…uh…no.” I go red with embarrassment at being caught. “It’s just, um, itchy.”
“I gathered.”
Her tone is only mildly patronizing so I let it slide.
“Does Rossi use the trains in his business?”
“Of course.”
“So he might know some good places to hide people.”
“I guess. You think, maybe, we should go talk to him?”
I give a laugh as I work myself up from the floor. “I don’t think that’s a very wise move.”
“Why not?”
“Well first cause I’m not all that thrilled to return to the scene of my own stabbing.”
Emily nods her understanding without a smile this time.
“You want something to drink?”
I hear sounds of Emily getting up as I head towards the kitchen. “Sure,” she replies, “what do you have?”
“Water, OJ, milk, tea, coffee, and I can make just about any drink you can think of.” I go to a cabinet and pull out a few glasses, “I also have, uh, absinthe but that’s not exactly conducive to the type of analysis we need to be doing right now.”
“Absinthe? Really?”
She can’t believe it.
“Yeah, you ever had it?”
“Yes I have.” Her heels click their way into the kitchen. “I’m surprised you have though.”
“I grew up in Vegas.”
“So, naturally, you would drink absinthe.”
“Naturally.” I throw her a teasing smile. I’m not about to give her any more. Sometimes a little mystery between two people is good. “So, what would you like, Emily?”
“How about…a Bad Habit?”
“Coming right up!”
I move to get the Peach Schnapps and then the Vodka from the freezer.
“You didn’t even ask what it was.” She points out, just this side of impressed.
“I know what it is,” I reply, “Vegas, remember?”
“There’s a lot about you that we don’t know, isn’t there, Dr Reid?”
“Tons.”
She laughs a little as she watched me mix our drinks. It doesn’t take her long to speak up again. “We really do need to talk to Rossi.”
“I, uh…I know. I just,” I take a moment to pour out her drink, speak once more as I had it over, “don’t think speaking to him at his club, with all his, uh, thugs, around is going to get us anywhere.”
I put the schnapps away, grab a cola out the fridge, and pour it in my glass before adding the vodka.
“Maybe we should get him to come to us then?”
I watch her lips hover over the edge of her glass before it gives her drink a kiss.
Before I risk staring I cast my eyes down to sip my own.
She swallows then speaks. “This is really good.”
I swallow. “Thanks. So, um…any ideas of, uh…how to get Rossi to, uh, come to us?”
“Tons.” She smirks a little. “But I don’t know if any will make Hotch all that thrilled.”
“If any involve you as bait, probably not.”
She nods and shrugs knowing I’m right.
There’s a mile long silence of us sipping and watching one another before she sets the half-emptied glass on the counter “Well we can always see if Hotch has any ideas of his own?”
“Let’s, uh, call him.”
Emily grabs up her drink once again only to down it in two long swallows and leave the glass in the sink. “Screw that, let’s get to the office and start this now.”
I hesitate, then finish my drink in three swallows, “Fine, collect my map and things, I’ll go get dressed.”
***
We’re in her car heading to the office in no time…and I’m really starting to wish people would let me drive. Emily drives as fast as Hotch, but slightly less controlled seeing as she insists she can drive and smoke at the same time. She can’t.
“You know a little aloe vera on the wound might help with the itchiness.” Emily calls out over the engine.
I hadn’t even noticed my hand was at my stomach. “I wasn’t itchy, I was nervous.” I smile a little,
“About?”
“You thinking we’re driving in the demolition derby.” I crack.
She laughs.
She also screeches the car to a halt when we arrive at the building.
Hotch and Morgan are both already there, piling things into the trunk of Hotch’s car. I’m guessing weapons. The two men stand, but only one smiles as we get out.
“Told ya we wouldn’t hafta call ‘em,” Morgan grins his way through his sentence.
“What’s going on?” Emily’s already to the trunk with the men as I try not to vomit into the nearest trashcan from her driving.
“We’re going to speak with Rossi.” Hotch informs her.
“With an artillery?” She glancing into the trunk.
Morgan chuckles, “You know a better way to bust in on a mobster’s poker game when he doesn’t want ya there?”
Emily’s nodding silently by the time I find my way over to the group. I clear my throat a little before speaking. “So…uh…Emily and I were talking and, uh, we should ask Rossi about the train tracks.”
“Train tracks?” A single brow of Hotch’s arches.
“It’s possible Rossi’s being set up.” Emily speaks and Hotch nods along. “If he is then the train tracks would be a great place to stash Jordan, dead or alive.”
Hotch’s nod stops as he goes to cover the small arsenal with a tarp. “Then we’ll ask him about the major stretches he might use that others would know about.”
“Can, uh, I uh…ask a question?” I butt in.
Hotch’s eyes flick to me and he waits.
“I just, you know, um, thought we were playing this…uh…you know…quiet?”
“We need something big to get a man like Rossi’s attention.” Morgan chuckles out.
Hotch gives an almost reluctant smile to Morgan’s comment. “We need to show Rossi that he’s in over his head on the men he’s chosen to employ. I’m guessing, on some level, he already knows but I aim to make it a little clearer this time around.”
“Also, it’s a little harder to play cocky with a buncha folks waving guns in your face.” Morgan chimes in once more. I’m starting to think he’s just eager to kick a little ass.
“So basically we shake his tree and see what information falls out his mouth.” Emily’s smiling. She also seems ready for a little ass-kicking.
“And that should, uh, loosen him up on whatever he was holding back on in his club?” The pieces are starting to fly together for me.
“Yes.” Hotch answers. Unlike the others he’s all business.
Emily smiles, “Sounds like a plan.”
“A good one.” I concur. I’m generally not up for the kicking of asses (because I’m too often on the receiving end), but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.
Morgan’s grin widens, “So let’s go bust some heads.”
"It's time to prove to your friends that you're worth a damn. Sometimes that means dying, sometimes it means killing a whole lot of people." ~ Dwight, Sin City
Next Section:
The Turning Point
Previous Sections:
Nightgale's Welcome Me
On Dangerous Ground
Safe Passage
The Big Scare
The Third Man
The Stallion: Part 1
The Stallion: Part 2
Trouble is My Business
Detour
Night Moves
I Love Trouble