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Jul. 13th, 2010 10:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
helsinkibabyTitle: Faith
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: JJ/Hotch ish
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine
Spoilers: Post ep for Riding the Lightning¬¬
Word Count: 990
Summary: Hotch gives JJ a ride back to the hotel.
Notes: Set in the same AU-verse as Chemistry.
“You handled yourself well today.”
JJ is staring out the window of the SUV, watching the pitch dark night go by, darkness broken by the occasional patch of light, when Hotch’s words bring her back to reality. They are on their own; Elle, Morgan, Reid and Garcia had taken one SUV back to the hotel earlier on, and while she and Hotch had offered to wait for Gideon, he’d wanted to stay a little longer with the body of Sarah Jean Dawes. He’d insisted that he’d get a ride back later, and the warden had promised him that it wouldn’t be a problem. Hotch had still been reluctant though, and JJ hadn’t missed the significant look that Gideon had thrown in her direction before insisting, once again, that he was fine and that Hotch should get JJ back to the hotel.
She didn’t know whether to be grateful for his compassion – she really didn’t want to hang around that prison any longer than necessary – or vaguely insulted by it.
“Sorry?” she asked, because she’d been so lost in thought that she’d barely heard what Hotch had said, and as she looked over at him, a tiny smile curled up the edges of his lips.
“I said, you handled yourself well today. In the interrogation room with Dawes.” Which is what she’d thought he’d said, except she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it when she was only half listening. Coming from Hotch, that mild sentence was the equivalent of a standing ovation, and she allowed herself a moment to bask in it.
“I just wish we’d been able to get more out of him,” she said, shaking her head, thinking of the four sets of parents who would never now get closure. “Four more girls Hotch…”
“I know.” His hands clench on the steering wheel, the only visible manifestation of his frustration. His voice is still calm, his gaze unwavering on the road. “But at least Ashley Farley’s family know what happened to their daughter. That’s something.” A pause, and she sees his head turn towards her. “You ok?”
In one way, she was, because it was all over. In another way, she wasn’t, because the chill that had run down her spine the second she saw Ashley’s Farley’s picture still hadn’t left her. “It’s just… that picture, the one Garcia pulled up of her? There’s a picture just like that, sitting on my grandma’s mantelpiece, right over the fireplace. She looked just like I did at that age.” She’d known even before then that she was Dawes’s type, but the similarity in the picture had nonetheless rocked her to the core.
“What you did… going in there… letting me play that hand of cards… that took guts. I never would have put you in there.”
“I know.” It had been hard enough to convince him in the first place, especially with Garcia looking on, eyes growing ever wider as she listened to their conversation. “But I was with you.” Which was the truth – much as sitting across from Jacob Dawes had scared the life out of her, and she was reasonably sure she wasn’t going to be sleeping soundly any time soon, having Hotch there had made things a little more bearable.
He takes his eyes off the road long enough to meet hers, and this time when he smiles, it is a full blown thing, the kind that reaches all the way up to his eyes. “You have that much faith in me?”
Hotch might be teasing, but her emotions are too close to the surface to be anything but serious. “Always.” He must see that, because he takes one hand from the steering wheel, reaches over to pat her knee quickly. It manages to be awkward and affectionate all at once, and it makes her smile.
“You have more faith in me than I did,” he admits after a long moment where both of them are staring at the road. “Watching you deal those cards… I did not want to give that bastard…” He cuts himself off, jaw clenched, and once again, she feels protectiveness coming off him in waves.
“Lucky the cards came up the way they did,” is all she says, and this time, she’s hiding a smile. All those Christmas mornings with Grandpa and the uncles around the living room table hadn’t been a dead loss, no matter what Mom and Grandma might have said at the time.
Of course, Hotch is a master profiler, and he must hear something, because he glances at her with narrowed eyes. “Yeah…” he says slowly. “Lucky.” There’s another long pause, and she knows he’s waiting for her to say something, admit something, but she just sits there, waiting him out. Eventually – maybe quicker than he otherwise would have, because even though it’s almost three in the morning and the roads are deserted, they are still driving – he chuckles, looks away. “Remind me never to play poker with you.”
She nods, grinning as a memory comes to her. “Ask Morgan about it… the time he got me and Elle and Garcia to play strip poker and lost his shirt… Garcia bought me coffee for a month.”
“I don’t want to know,” he tells her, and she leans back in her seat and closes her eyes, deciding that while a Hotch laugh might be a rare thing, it’s almost enough to make this day bearable. “You should go to sleep,” he tells her. “It’ll be a while before we get to the hotel…”
“I won’t sleep…” she tells him, but even as she’s speaking, she can feel her eyes getting heavier. “OK… maybe a little.”
There’s the slightest sound of a chuckle from the driver’s seat, and then there is only silence. As she drifts off, she thinks she hears him say, very quietly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” but she tells herself she is only dreaming.
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: JJ/Hotch ish
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine
Spoilers: Post ep for Riding the Lightning¬¬
Word Count: 990
Summary: Hotch gives JJ a ride back to the hotel.
Notes: Set in the same AU-verse as Chemistry.
“You handled yourself well today.”
JJ is staring out the window of the SUV, watching the pitch dark night go by, darkness broken by the occasional patch of light, when Hotch’s words bring her back to reality. They are on their own; Elle, Morgan, Reid and Garcia had taken one SUV back to the hotel earlier on, and while she and Hotch had offered to wait for Gideon, he’d wanted to stay a little longer with the body of Sarah Jean Dawes. He’d insisted that he’d get a ride back later, and the warden had promised him that it wouldn’t be a problem. Hotch had still been reluctant though, and JJ hadn’t missed the significant look that Gideon had thrown in her direction before insisting, once again, that he was fine and that Hotch should get JJ back to the hotel.
She didn’t know whether to be grateful for his compassion – she really didn’t want to hang around that prison any longer than necessary – or vaguely insulted by it.
“Sorry?” she asked, because she’d been so lost in thought that she’d barely heard what Hotch had said, and as she looked over at him, a tiny smile curled up the edges of his lips.
“I said, you handled yourself well today. In the interrogation room with Dawes.” Which is what she’d thought he’d said, except she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it when she was only half listening. Coming from Hotch, that mild sentence was the equivalent of a standing ovation, and she allowed herself a moment to bask in it.
“I just wish we’d been able to get more out of him,” she said, shaking her head, thinking of the four sets of parents who would never now get closure. “Four more girls Hotch…”
“I know.” His hands clench on the steering wheel, the only visible manifestation of his frustration. His voice is still calm, his gaze unwavering on the road. “But at least Ashley Farley’s family know what happened to their daughter. That’s something.” A pause, and she sees his head turn towards her. “You ok?”
In one way, she was, because it was all over. In another way, she wasn’t, because the chill that had run down her spine the second she saw Ashley’s Farley’s picture still hadn’t left her. “It’s just… that picture, the one Garcia pulled up of her? There’s a picture just like that, sitting on my grandma’s mantelpiece, right over the fireplace. She looked just like I did at that age.” She’d known even before then that she was Dawes’s type, but the similarity in the picture had nonetheless rocked her to the core.
“What you did… going in there… letting me play that hand of cards… that took guts. I never would have put you in there.”
“I know.” It had been hard enough to convince him in the first place, especially with Garcia looking on, eyes growing ever wider as she listened to their conversation. “But I was with you.” Which was the truth – much as sitting across from Jacob Dawes had scared the life out of her, and she was reasonably sure she wasn’t going to be sleeping soundly any time soon, having Hotch there had made things a little more bearable.
He takes his eyes off the road long enough to meet hers, and this time when he smiles, it is a full blown thing, the kind that reaches all the way up to his eyes. “You have that much faith in me?”
Hotch might be teasing, but her emotions are too close to the surface to be anything but serious. “Always.” He must see that, because he takes one hand from the steering wheel, reaches over to pat her knee quickly. It manages to be awkward and affectionate all at once, and it makes her smile.
“You have more faith in me than I did,” he admits after a long moment where both of them are staring at the road. “Watching you deal those cards… I did not want to give that bastard…” He cuts himself off, jaw clenched, and once again, she feels protectiveness coming off him in waves.
“Lucky the cards came up the way they did,” is all she says, and this time, she’s hiding a smile. All those Christmas mornings with Grandpa and the uncles around the living room table hadn’t been a dead loss, no matter what Mom and Grandma might have said at the time.
Of course, Hotch is a master profiler, and he must hear something, because he glances at her with narrowed eyes. “Yeah…” he says slowly. “Lucky.” There’s another long pause, and she knows he’s waiting for her to say something, admit something, but she just sits there, waiting him out. Eventually – maybe quicker than he otherwise would have, because even though it’s almost three in the morning and the roads are deserted, they are still driving – he chuckles, looks away. “Remind me never to play poker with you.”
She nods, grinning as a memory comes to her. “Ask Morgan about it… the time he got me and Elle and Garcia to play strip poker and lost his shirt… Garcia bought me coffee for a month.”
“I don’t want to know,” he tells her, and she leans back in her seat and closes her eyes, deciding that while a Hotch laugh might be a rare thing, it’s almost enough to make this day bearable. “You should go to sleep,” he tells her. “It’ll be a while before we get to the hotel…”
“I won’t sleep…” she tells him, but even as she’s speaking, she can feel her eyes getting heavier. “OK… maybe a little.”
There’s the slightest sound of a chuckle from the driver’s seat, and then there is only silence. As she drifts off, she thinks she hears him say, very quietly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” but she tells herself she is only dreaming.
