FF: What the Rain Washes Away 3/13 (Criminal Minds) JJ/Emily NC-17
Chapter Two…
If I had my way
If I had my way
If I had my way…
I'd burn this whole building down
JJ got up to stretch her back, walking out of her office to look out over the bullpen. She'd been relieved to leave her first trimester - and the morning sickness - behind, but she would have gladly taken it back for the muscle cramps and back pain the second trimester had brought. She'd taken to standing up to read the case files just to save herself the extra strain for the hours she knew she had to sit - like long plane rides. She strolled down the hall, then up by Hotchner's office and stopped to look out over the bullpen. Reid and Prentiss were already gone to Colorado, she knew, but it didn’t hurt less to see Emily's empty desk and know the brunette hadn't bothered to say goodbye.
No phone call, no text, no e-mail. Not even a damn post-it note.
Before, even before they'd started sleeping together, if JJ stayed behind at headquarters while the team went out on a case, Emily had always said goodbye in one form or another. Not anymore. Not since…
JJ shook her head, refusing to let her mind go there. There was no use dredging up the past, no way to rectify the mistakes that had been made. The hearts that had been broken.
Still, she wished that Emily had said goodbye. She missed the way they used to go for morning coffee at the same time, or ate lunch in Garcia's office while repeating the latest office gossip. She missed waking up in Emily's arms.
Most of all, she missed her friend and she wondered if, despite it all, Emily missed her too.
*
Monday morning came early, the alarm clock dragging JJ from sleep. She reached to the left to turn it off, slapping absently at the nightstand table. "Other side," Emily mumbled, reaching behind her to punish the alarm into submission before curling back up around JJ's body and snuggling in.
JJ muttered to herself and pulled the blanket around them tighter. Despite the weeks in which they'd been sharing each other's lives and beds, JJ still couldn't remember which side of the bed the alarm was on in Emily's bedroom. It had become a running joke between them that JJ literally lost all track of time when she was around Emily, something for which the brunette was more than happy to be blamed.
"Can't we just call in sick," Emily mumbled, her lips brushing against JJ's bare shoulder before she kissed it absently. "Tell Hotch we got food poisoning or something?"
"You really want to tell Hotch we got food poisoning?"
"You're right, he'd still expect us to come into work. We need a better excuse."
JJ turned in the brunette's arms, kissing her playfully. "You think of a better excuse - I'm going to go shower."
"Don't take all the hot water," Prentiss called out as JJ slipped from bed. The blonde gave her a dirty look over her shoulder before shutting the bathroom door which only made Prentiss laugh.
It had been just over four weeks since that night at the bar and still she woke up everyday amazed it was real. That she hadn't dreamt the happiest night of her life. They'd played it cool at work, consciously making an effort to keep out of each other's personal space, to make inside jokes, but Emily was certain the others suspected something had changed between the agents even if they were too polite to come right out and ask. The only one she wasn't sure of was Hotch. He was hard to read on a good day and lately they hadn't had very many of those. She wasn't ready to run the risk of telling him if he wasn't ready to hear the news.
For the moment, she and JJ had agreed to keep their relationship quiet, for both their sakes, and deal with the rest on an as-needed basis.
"Hey, sleepy head, there's about five minutes left of hot water if you hurry up," JJ called from the bathroom. Emily got up out of bed, wondering how she'd managed to survive every other Monday morning before.
*
Plumes of dust kicked up under the car's wheels as they pulled up the long driveway of the Liberty Ranch compound. Prentiss took a deep breath. Some agents considered being undercover like being an actor playing a part - those were usually the agents that ended up dead or blowing the case. She knew there was nothing you could fake while undercover. Reactions needed to be genuine, words plain and true. Elaborate lies, false smiles and reassurances got people killed. You didn't pretend to be left-handed or like country music; you covered the one lie - your identity - in a pile of truth so deep that no one thought to question you; no one suspected there might be something else underneath.
Even if they hadn't had a picture of him, even if he hadn't been waiting for them to pull up, Prentiss would have known Benjamin Cyrus anywhere. The way he lazily waited on the steps, ignoring them drive up as he read his Bible screamed Alpha Male. A man accustomed to getting what he wanted, when he wanted, who didn't take kindly to outsiders or anyone who might question his authority. But she also knew an Alpha Male didn't necessarily equate to a child molester and the last thing they needed was to spark an incident with unfounded accusations.
"I'm looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus," Lund asked as they got out of the car.
"You found him."
"I'm Nancy Lund…" she hesitated, waiting for some sign of recognition but Cyrus didn't look up. "We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation."
Prentiss watched him approach slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. As if he knew there was nothing to be afraid of.
"'Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.'"
"We didn't come here to hear you cite scripture Mr. Cyrus," Lund said testily.
"Actually," Reid cut in, "it's Benjamin Franklin."
Lund gave him a look. "Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid," she introduced, "they're child victim interview specialists."
"How far from God's word must we have strayed for there to be the need to invent a job called 'Child Victim Interview Expert?'"
How far indeed, Emily thought, nodding in agreement. "We wish we didn't have to be here," she said honestly.
"So do we. But you are welcome nonetheless. The children are in the school as I indicated."
"Thank you."
She and Lund took the lead as Spencer hung back, asking Cyrus about the solar panels, getting a sense of the compound's surroundings. Prentiss heard Cyrus say they were self-sufficient and uttered a silent curse. It would make things even more difficult if they actually found something that required removing the children. A self-sufficient compound could hold out for weeks, maybe even months, and law enforcement usually got twitchy long before then.
"Why don't you start with the younger children? Reid and I will interview Jessica Evanson."
"Okay," Nancy agreed.
It took only a few minutes for the mothers to be located and the children separated into another classroom so that the three of them could start their interviews. To his credit, Cyrus left without needing to be asked.
Reid and Prentiss introduced themselves to Kathy Evanson and her daughter, both offering reassuring smiles as the teenage girl glared back at them both.
"Jessica, why don't you tell me about your day-to-day activities here at the ranch," Emily started easily.
"We go to school, we do our chores, and we treat each other with the respect that God demands."
It was a good answer - too good. Emily knew something that perfect had been coached and rehearsed more than a few times over. "But you've never been off of the ranch," she pressed.
"I brought Jessie here when she was two," Kathy explained.
"You've talked to lots of children in your work," Jessica continued, "tell me: are their lives somehow better than ours?"
"We devote ourselves to God," her mother continued, almost apologetic. "That doesn't mean we're not devoted to our children."
"We are not here because of your religious beliefs," Prentiss assured, noting that it did nothing to relax Kathy at all.
"Why are you here?"
"We received a phone call alleging that an adult male member of your church was having inappropriate relations with the younger women here."
"You're talking about Cyrus."
"What makes you say that?"
Kathy tried to stop Jessica, but the teenager ignored her, her eyes never leaving Prentiss' as she challenged, "Is it inappropriate for a husband to share a bed with his wife?"
"You're married to Cyrus," Prentiss asked slowly, the pieces she'd suspected fitting into place now that she had confirmation.
"Yes. Cyrus is my husband, and a prophet. It's an honor to bear his children."
Emily took a breath. She hadn't seen that type of blind devotion in years. It scared the hell out of her.
"Jessica," Reid said slowly, "you're only fifteen. The State of Colorado requires parental consent."
Prentiss looked up, her eyes searching Kathy's downturned face. "She gave consent."
And then, as it so often did, life turned on a dime. Men pushed into the classrooms, AK-47s and modified rifles in hand as they took up positions in front of the windows, Benjamin Cyrus following in right behind them.
"Stand!"
"What's going on," Lund asked, looking nervously at Prentiss and Reid.
"We just got a very strange phone call, from a news reporter" Cyrus explained, his eyes searching theirs. "Is there anything you want to tell me? About a raid maybe?"
Sonofabitch…
The look on Prentiss and Reid's face was enough proof for Cyrus. "They don't know."
"Know what," Reid asked again.
"Cyrus, they're coming!"
"Into the tunnel," Cyrus ordered. "Take them with you."
"Take us where," Nancy argued, only starting to move when one of them men moved toward her with his rifle. A desk was moved, a trap door opened, and then the children were shuttled down the hole one by one, Lund, Prentiss and Reid following. "What’s going on," she hissed as they maneuvered through the low-tunnel.
"I don't know," Reid answered, "just try and stay calm." Above them they could hear the steady fire of automatic weapons fire.
The tunnel opened up into a basement area, which Emily judged from the few hundred feet they'd walked, was probably right under the temple. She and Reid pushed to the back, trying to keep as far away from Cyrus and his men as possible. Her eyes caught on three heavy wooden crates and a stack of guns in the corner.
"Where did those guns come from?"
"I don't know," Reid whispered, "Garcia checked with the state police."
"Stay together, remain calm," Cyrus urged from the front, "there is nothing to fear here."
Except, apparently, the state police trying to break down your door, Emily thought bitterly. No, Hotch, this is not at all like Montana.
Lund turned to look at her, panic growing in her eyes. "This is ridiculous."
"It's okay, just calm down," Emily cautioned. The last thing they needed right now was Lund to freak out and say something stupid.
"All right, remain calm, stay quiet," Cyrus ordered again. "God will protect you."
And if He doesn't it will be too late for you to blame Cyrus anyway…
Lund turned again to Prentiss and Reid, as if she'd just gotten a bright idea. "It's the state police. I'm an officer of the state."
"Well there's nothing we can do right now," Emily argued.
"I can talk to them."
"No, you can't. It's dangerous-" But Nancy was already moving, pushing through the children. "Nancy! Stop! Nancy-"
Lund got past the guard at the stairs a second before he stepped in front of Prentiss and Reid, blocking their path to the door. They stopped cold, neither one prepared to escalate the situation, each silently hoping Lund didn't say something stupid to blow their entire cover.
The gunfire continued even as they heard Cyrus shouting for his men to cease fire.
"No matter what happens," Emily whispered, "don't blow your cover."
Reid nodded slowly.
Cyrus walked back into the basement even as the gunfire continued above them. "Fear not, for we're on the side of the righteous."
"Where's Lund?"
Cyrus sounded truly apologetic as he answered, "It wasn't us."
Ice cold fingers of fear wrapped around Emily's spine. "What? You can't shoot it out with the cops," Emily hissed. "You have children here." Even as she said the words she knew they would have no impact on the separatist leader. Lund was dead, and with her, any chance Cyrus had of walking away without a prison sentence.
"I didn't start this," Cyrus answered, grabbing a gun from one of his men. "I'll take the roof, you take the tunnel." He left again and they all listened as the shouting continued, as well as the gunfire.
One of the men stood on a crate to watch the firefight from the small basement window. The gunfire faded, then stopped altogether. He turned around, smiling triumphantly. "They're pulling out! They're pulling out!"
Reid turned to look at Emily, both of them thinking the same thing: "Not for long."
Chapter Three