Back at the Davenport house, the team listened to the phone ring only seconds after Sloan and Hotch had re-entered the house. The unsub taunted them. He taunted Cheryl.

"I bet those clever FBI agents deduced my plan just in time," he told her, "If they hadn't, I'd of had you both. The whole set. The matching pair."

Then, Cheryl began to panic. She talked to him. She asked him questions. Exactly what the agents didn't want her to do.

"What do you want?!" She yelled.

"What do I want? You! It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but I promise you! We will be together!"

Click. He hung up. Marjorie stepped away from the table, trying to give her brain the space and silence necessary to think. All the information she had just discovered in the past two minutes had been overwhelming.

The matching pair. He's a collector.

She asked him with her glances, the way she walks. Erotomania. She's dealt with that one before.

The belief that someone of a higher social status than you is in love with you.

Why are these things important? The unsub knows these girls. They know the unsub. Whoever this kidnapper is, he's part of their life.

Gideon and Reid took Cheryl and her father into the study to debrief them on the new information. Sloan stood in the kitchen, in front of the sink. For a long moment, she held her hands under warm running water before rubbing her face.

She felt a presence behind her and turned to see Hotch walking into the room, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

She shook her head, "You didn't."

The man found a glass in one of the cabinets and got himself a glass of water. It was silent for a few moments.

"You seem to know what you're doing," he told her.

"You sound surprised."

"I'm not surprised, just impressed. You have a valuable skillset, it's nice to see you know how to use it well."

"Thank you?" She didn't mean for it to come off as a question, but the delivery of his compliment confused her.

"Elle says your dream is the BAU."

That caught her off guard. She hesitated, clearing her throat. "Um yeah. . . I'm still happy for her though, for getting the spot. There's no hard feelings."

"Oh, I wasn't insinuating that there was, my bad. I was simply trying to say that I think you should keep working at it. You have potential."

Those words took root inside her as she tried to contain herself. After smiling as a thank you, she looked at him and noticed how his expressions still held nothing at all.

"You know, in the hours since we've met, you haven't smiled once."

"Well, there's a girl missing."

"Yes. . . but the creases on your face are far and few in between. How little do you smile for it to stay that way?" He seemed taken aback by that. Becoming nervous because of his silence, she spoke up again. "Was that too far? I'm really sorry I'm just—"

"Don't apologize. You were thinking like a profiler. It's an important mindset to be in right now."

Right now.

Marjorie than exhaled heavily. "Agent Hotchner, this unsub... he's... obsessed with those girls. And those types of people—the obsessed people— they're always—"

"—the most determined kind of criminal," Gideon finished for her as he and Reid walked in.

He picked up an orange from the fruit bowl on the counter and got a knife, beginning to peel it. Elle and Morgan entered the room.

Hotch looked at the young man, "Crime of obsession. Your specialty, your lead, Morgan."

As he explained what he knew, and the other team members jumped in with their own comments. Sloan watched in awe. The effortless communication between them. They worked so well together, it was frustrating when she compared them to her own team.

That, along with the details they notice and dots they connect, made her head spin. She knew being a profiler was difficult to achieve, but now, being surrounded by them, she saw what it really entailed. And she only wanted it more.

"We also have to consider the fact that..." Hotch tried to say.

"That Patricia may already be dead," Sloan finished for him when his voice faded.

Gideon handed an orange slice to to everyone in the room and Marjorie accepted hers gratefully. She hadn't realized how starving she was, but smelling the potent fruit was all it took for her stomach to growl.

"So far, he's called every play," Morgan continued, "I say we apply some pressure, make him sweat."

The group nodded in agreement but said nothing. Sloan sighed, knowing what to do, "Only one way to do that." Then she walked back into the living room.

Behind her, the rest of the agents watched her curiously. After a moment, they followed her, wanting to see her next move.

Marjorie Sloan was determined to prove herself to the BAU.

————

Gideon studied her, already impressed and she hadn't even begun. The young woman took a deep breath as the phone rang.

She sat down in front of the device. It continued to ring and Mr Davenport grew antsy, reaching over to try and answer it. "Hold on, hold on, hold on," she said as she stood up, her voice soft yet stern.

It rang for several more seconds, the Davenports looking around nervously as Sloan only waited. Finally, she reached out and pressed the button to answer, only to hang up immediately.

The concerned father across the table looked at her confused, "What are you doing?" Marjorie did not respond. She continued to stare at the device. It started to ring again. "Agent Sloan?" The man asked.

This time, she answered much faster. "Hello?" She spoke into the device.

The unsub's voice came through, "Tell me there was a technical issue with the line. Tell me you did not just hang u-" as he spoke, Marjorie ended the call again.

"The hell are you doing?" Mr Davenport asked her.

Still, Marjorie wouldn't speak, too focused on her task at hand. She stared at the device waiting for it to ring again, and it did. She nodded to herself, relieved but also proud that her plan was working.

"Are you gonna answer it?" Cheryl said.

The girl's father panicked, "Why is she doing this? What is she- What- You're gonna drive this guy crazy! Just answer the phone!"

Sloan exhaled slowly, looking up at the man. She held out her finger as she spoke, "Quiet, please, be quiet." He only scoffed in return. The phone continued to ring.

The agents in the room watched, intrigued. The father and daughter grew even more stressed as Marjorie continued to do nothing as the phone rang.

Cheryl tried to reach over but was pulled back by Elle, "Somebody had to answer it!"

"She knows what she's doing," Elle told her.

The girl's father tried to do the same but was stopped by Agent Hotchner. Some of the agents in the room grew nervous as well, not fully comfortable with trusting Sloan yet. But Gideon watched with amusement, impressed with her choice of tactic.

As the father and daughter freaked out, Gideon held his hand out and looked Mr Davenport in the eye, giving him a look to settle down. "She knows...what she's doing," he repeated Elle's words, just slower and with more authority. His tone seemed to set into not only the family, but the other agents as well.

Marjorie reached out, answering the phone again. "Davenport residence," she spoke.

"Are you out of your mind?!" The unsub shouted, "You do understand that I'll kill her right?"

And she hung up. But barely a second later, it started to ring again. "Thank you," she muttered under her breath with a faint smile.

Mr Davenport tried to intervene, "You're killing my daughter! Pick up that phone!" Morgan held him back.

"Get him quiet," Sloan asked less nicely this time.

"You bitch! Pick up the phone!"

She looked up at him with a hardened look when Agent Hotchner stepped in front of him to give him one of the most terrifying glares she'd ever seen, but Mr Davenport continued to yell while Morgan pulled him away.

"Mr Davenport, get a hold of yourself," She told him firmly.

"Answer the phone!"

"Quiet him," the woman repeated.

Both him and his daughter began to sob loudly. Marjorie allowed the phone to ring for a few more moments before answering.

"She is dead!" The unsub shouted, causing Cheryl to sob even louder, "You hang up on me again and I rip her open!"

"I'm so sorry, you must have the wrong number," the young agent responded.

"Come on, Sloan," Morgan said, becoming worried himself.

"You killed her," Mr Davenport said through ragged breaths.

"No sir," Marjorie answered.

"Oh yeah? What the hell do you think you're doing then?"

She looked at him impatiently, "I'm saving your daughter, Mr Davenport." The man shook his head as he continued to breath heavily. The phone rang again. Marjorie stood up straighter, "Have a little faith."

After waiting a few moments, she answered. "Put Cheryl on the phone," the voice said.

"No," she responded sternly, "You're finished talking to Cheryl."

The unsub laughed or scoffed, Marjorie couldn't tell which. "Listen to that tone of authority. I've heard of you, Agent Sloan. Are you taking this as a chance you show off your skills to the renowned agents of the BAU? Or maybe just Jason Gideon—You're idol. Fascinating to hear how the arrogant quality of his published works rubs off onto his fans. He is a bit of a pedant isn't he? A bit didactic?"

The young woman exhaled, "Well, that's a very interesting conclusion. You sound intelligent, and you certainly sound educated," she paused, "We both know that's not true."

"Oh I know about all of you. The ambitious Agent Hotchner? Do you wanna be director of the FBI some day, Agent Hotchner? Would you step on Agent Gideon to get there? I think you would. Post-traumatic stress is a very good excuse. Even you're sick, pregnant wife can't get you to leave your post.
Jason Gideon. An expert on the criminal psyche, yet unable to diagnose the autistic leanings of the very insecure Dr. Reid. Well, maybe he can make money counting cards in Las Vegas.
The lovely Elle was promoted too soon. She doesn't have what it takes to make it in the BAU boys club. You're no threat to me. You're not threat to anyone.
And token Derek Morgan, wants to be taken seriously, but he is just a pumped up side of beef.
Then there's you. Agent Marjorie Sloan, desperate to live up to her reputation and make it into the famous Behavioral Analysis Unit, when really all she has going for her is good looks and a tragic backstory.
I know who you are! I know how you think! And I know what to do next! Do you?!"

This time, the unsub hung up. Marjorie took a deep breath, another ghost of a smile appeared on her face. She leaned back in her chair, processing everything.

"The hell was that?" Mr. Davenport asked, "Why did he say. . . that he knows what to do next?"

Gideon looked at him, "He was grand standing."

"You don't know that," he stood up walking closer as Morgan put his hand on his chest, stopping him,"You- You can't possibly know that.

"Mr. Davenport," Sloan spoke up, "I have learned more in the past 5 minutes than in the last 24 hours."

"Why? I don't understand. Why is he so focused on you right now?"

"Because we are interfering with his relationship with the girls," Morgan explained.

"He says he knows all about you."

"Yes, apparently," Agent Hotchner added.

"He profiled us, Mr. Davenport," Morgan said.

Cheryl spoke up, "Why would he do that?"

"To show us how smart he is," Elle informed.

Reid explained further, "Oftentimes the best profilers are the unsubs themselves. They're the ones able to walk into an arcade full of children and pinpoint the boy or girl that can be led out quietly."

"But he made a mistake because he gave us something he didn't expect," Marjorie cut in.

"Which is?" Mr Davenport asked.

The woman waited a moment before answering him, "He told us how to find him."

——————

And they did. They found him within the next hour. Agent Shyer, a local FBI man who knew Mr Davenport personally. He cornered Cheryl in the safe house she'd been sent to, but Elle showed up just in time.

Now, the whole unit, along with Sloan, stood outside an abandoned brick building as Patricia was rolled out on a stretcher and put into an ambulance. Cheryl ran to be beside her, holding her hand. Marjorie smiled at the sight.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone step up and stand next to her. She turned to see Agent Gideon. Looking back at the reunion in front of her, she spoke up, "This is my favorite part. People always ask me why I do it? Why Crimes Against Children? Why Hostage Negotiation? Why are those the things I chose to specialize in? It's because of this. The happy endings."

Gideon nodded, "They do make it worth it. I only wish we could have these endings more often."

Marjorie nodded, "Me too."

The man looked at her curiously, then asked, "Over the phone, the unsub said tragic backstory. I couldn't figure out how he could know about your childhood at first... unless it was public record."

Sighing, she crossed her arms. "It is. Public record, that is. He was over exaggerating, really. I mean, was there an incident? Yes, but I barely remember it. I was too young. Though this isn't the first time it's been brought up while doing this job."

He nodded, "So it doesn't affect you?"

"Nope," she saw he was still curious, making her chuckle softly, "Maybe someday in the future, I'll tell you, Agent Gideon. For now, you can wonder."

"I wanted to thank you, by the way," she continued. "For trusting me back at the house. I know you don't know me well, and you had no reason to give me as much leeway as you did, so... thank you. I'm truly honored to have worked this case with you and your team."

Gideon smiled at her, "Ah, come on Sloan, don't be so formal with me. You're a good agent. You'd make an amazing profiler. I hope you get the chance to embrace that potential."

"Thank you," she said shyly before turning to walk away.

"And Sloan!" She turned around to face the man again, "Maybe don't call it my team around Hotch. Don't need Mr Unit Chief to get all grumpy about it, even if you're right."

Marjorie laughed brightly, sending a two-fingered salute, "You got it."

Then she walked away.

—————

Back at Quantico, Elle and Marjorie walked through the doors of the BAU, finding Morgan at his desk, wincing in pain while changing his bandage.

"You alright?" Elle asked him. He merely huffed in annoyance. "You took a taser hit."

"Yeah, I did, so what?" He shot back.

"So no one expects you to finished the Davenport file tonight," Marjorie told him.

He chuckled, "Yeah, I guess it's still a little fresh in my mind. Nothing like 50,000 volts in your back to keep your motor running, right?" He sighed and leaned back in his office chair, "You know... Shyer didn't see either of you as a peer or a threat... that was his mistake."

Elle smiled, "Yes it was."

Marjorie grinned with her, laughing. She looked at the thick stack of files on his desk that he hadn't got to yet, "You're gonna be here all night... give me half."

Morgan eagerly gave her a large chunk of the files, and Marjorie separated the stack into two, handing some to Elle who gave her a peeved look. They all laughed again before sitting down to work, the blonde borrowing Reid's desk for the night since he'd gone home.

————

(word count: 2803)

it's been decades I know. so here's a longer chapter. I'm sorry for not updating this story, I just have a lot of different stories and even more drafts and I can't function 😭😭.

plus I'm a senior in high school and my life is chaotic and miserable rn.

so plz understand!

ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOYED!

next chapter will be a time jump cause these first few were just showing off her skills and NOW we are getting into the big plot. Yayyyyy!

much love,
Chloe <3