ABLOCATE ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME ONE
━━ ❛ 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 ❜

chapter no. 030!

❝ A LOSING BATTLE. ❞
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

     "IT'S JUST FOR ONE NIGHT, AND IF YOU DON'T HAVE FUN, THEN WE'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!" Penelope Garcia exclaimed, trailing behind Cara Valentine as she walked back to her desk. It'd been a quiet and uneventful Friday at the BAU up until now, and the team had been thankful for that.

     "You make it sound like we're hooking up," Cara retorted. Morgan laughed, quickly covering it up with a cough as Penelope shot him a haste glare. An amused smirk played on his lips as he looked back down at his paperwork, shaking his head.

     The colorful blonde huffed. "Normally, I'd flirt back and jokingly take you up on that, but I'm too busy being frustrated," she replied, crossing her arms.

     Plopping into her desk chair, Cara placed her mug of coffee down. "Why are you frustrated, bubblegum?" she asked absentmindedly, sifting through the files on her desk.

     "I'm frustrated because you're being stubborn, Rose!" Penelope huffed, groaning as the woman didn't bother to meet her gaze.

     Tonight was girls' night, and JJ and Penelope were determined to get Blake and Cara to join them. The four women had been talking in the kitchenette, but when girls' night was brought up, Blake and Cara dispersed— causing the other two to split up and follow after them.

     "Penelope, you know that arguing with me is a losing battle," Cara sang, shaking her head. "I'm not going."

     "Well, I'm not taking no for an answer. You're going." Penelope stated firmly, not backing down when the blonde gave her a cold glare. "Either you go, or we'll bring the party to your apartment."

     Narrowing her eyes, the team's youngest member pressed her lips together. All she wanted to was go home, read a book, and bake something. Girls' night was not penciled into her schedule, and she didn't want to dress up.

     JJ eagerly hurried over and propped herself on the edge of Cara's desk. "Blake's agreed to go," she smiled, and Penelope clapped her hands excitedly. "Car, if Blake can say yes and ditch her crossword puzzles for one night, you can give up reading on the couch," JJ commented, reaching over and swiftly snatching the pen out of her hand.

     Looking up from her paperwork, the blonde groaned and fell back into her chair. "First, I have a curfew, remember? If I'm not on a case or here, I'm supposed to be at my apartment by ten. Second, why do I need to go?" she questioned, raising a brow. "I see you three every day. What will we talk about or do that we can't at work?"

     "First of all, you had that movie night thing with Reid weeks ago, and that was after curfew." Cara narrowed her eyes. "And I don't know... get drunk, gossip, spill secrets and talk about our sex lives?!" Penelope exclaimed, placing a hand on her hip.

     At her words, Spencer briefly glanced up from his desk. He'd been listening the entire time but hadn't paid much attention until he heard his name.

     Cara shook her head. "You can't talk about something you don't have," she fired back bluntly, grabbing her pen back from JJ, who gasped.

     "Wait, when's the last time you were with someone?" JJ wondered aloud.

     Shrugging, the woman swept her eyes back to the file in front of her. "September," she answered plainly.

     "That's not too long before you were arrested. Who was it?" Penelope asked, entirely investing herself in the conversation. She was finally getting some itty-gritty, juicy details about Cara's extremely secretive sex life. Despite the pair's conversations about their love and sex lives, Cara never shared any details about hers.

     Both women were staring expectantly at the ex-convict filling out the report on her desk. "A doctor named Lydia," Cara finally stated, closing the file and placing it on the pile she had to deliver to Anderson on Monday.

     Morgan's eyebrows rose, and he looked up from his desk. Spencer did the same, turning slightly to glance at her.

     "I didn't think you swung for the same team, Valentine," Morgan commented, inserting himself into the discussion.

     "I swing for both teams, D," she corrected, pointing a finger. He chuckled.

     Another gasp echoed, and Penelope leaned against the desk. "Wait, every time we jokingly flirt... have you hit on me? 'Cause I'd be into that."

     A rare laugh left Cara's mouth, and she shook her head. Morgan and JJ watched as the brown-haired doctor's lips tugged upward at the sound. "Sadly, no. I have not hit on you, bubblegum. If I had, you would know." A loose smirk dangled on her lips, and Penelope pouted.

     "Cara, you're coming tonight, right?" Blake called, a fresh cup of coffee in her hands as she made her way over.

     Squeezing her eyes shut, Cara smacked her forehead against the thick pile of papers in front of her. She huffed, keeping her gaze focused on her black boots underneath the desk. "Why can't I just read peacefully, like I do every night?" she retorted.

     Blake hummed. "I said the same thing with my crossword puzzles and Jeopardy, but it's healthy to break routine every once in a while."

     "Is it? Is it really?" Cara challenged, raising her head.

     The three other women turned to the BAU's resident genius. "Reid."

     Without thinking twice, Spencer responded. "Multiple studies have cited that, when done with intention and self-awareness, breaking from regular routines can be a powerful way to stimulate new thinking, adapt better to change, break bad habits, and be more collaborative in a team environment." Looking over, he immediately noticed the killer glare Cara was sending his way.

     "Thank you." Penelope smiled triumphantly.

     "When I die and become a ghost, I'm going to haunt the shit out of you for that," Cara threatened, throwing a crumpled-up ball of paper at him.

     Ducking just in time, Spencer laughed. "What?! It's true. Look it up!"

     "I'm about to look up how to get away with killing an F.B.I. agent," she warned, pointing a finger at him.

     "Oh, don't bother. I gotchu, Pretty Girl," Morgan called, winking when they locked eyes. "Still looking for a way to get back at Reid for that practical joke he played on me last week."

     Cara smirked. She'd found her partner in crime. "If I were closer, I'd fist bump you."

────

     NO. That was the one-word response Cara Valentine repeatedly gave Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, and Alex Blake. It was the one word that left her lips precisely eleven times. It was the only word in Cara's vocabulary whenever they attempted to ask or say anything to her. And the singular response awaited the three women when they turned up at Cara's apartment.

     Cara blinked solemnly, hand placed on the back of the front door. "No."

     Jaw-dropping, Penelope feigned offense. "Caralyn Rosan Valentine, you do not speak to your best friends like that." Two pink feather boas were wrapped around her neck and shoulders while glitter highlighted her cheeks. She wore a hot pink sequined dress with a tiara on her head, and her blonde hair was curled to perfection.

     "I brought tequila!" JJ sang, raising three bottles in the air. Next to her, Blake motioned to the set of shot glasses in her hands. They were dressed in loungewear, mirroring Cara's clothes of choice.

     "No."

     That one word meant nothing, apparently, as Penelope pushed her way in.

     "Move over. We're coming in."

     Cara's jaw slackened as the trio entered her apartment, disregarding her blatant but repeated decline. Why couldn't they leave her alone? She liked spending time with them, more than she would ever care to admit, but she just wanted a quiet night filled with reading.

     As JJ walked into the unfamiliar apartment, she could spot evidence that Cara had grown comfortable living there. A small smile tugged at her lips at the thought.

     For the most part, the walls of the space were bare, aside from keyrings mounted beside the front door. To JJ's left, there were two framed pieces of art hung. In the living room, there were two bookshelves on either side of the TV mounted on the wall and the table that sat underneath it. The shelves were adorned with books, a record player, and a potted cactus that took up a fair amount of room on the right, middle shelf. There was a small photograph to the left of it, and JJ's brows furrowed.

     Making her way to the shelves, she saw that it was a baby photo. Presumably of Cara. An unknown man with dark brown hair nearly touching his shoulders and stubble covering his face was in the frame. He wore a bright smile complimented with dimples and deep blue eyes that matched Cara's. In his arms, he held a baby with white blonde hair who sported a toothless grin. The man appeared to be in his early twenties, and the infant couldn't be more than a year old. They stood in front of an oblong house in the middle of nowhere. A dark blur shielded the camera lens from whoever had taken it in the lower-left corner of the image.

     JJ felt her guard lower and her heart warm as she stared at the picture. It was a small piece of evidence that Cara Valentine had been happy and smiled at some point in her life. The agent had not seen her genuinely smile in all the time she'd known her.

     After a minute, she averted her gaze to the rest of the living room. Adjacent to her was a black couch with a fuzzy light blue blanket folded over the back, joined by white throw pillows. The coffee table in front of the couch was decorated with two wooden coasters and worn-out copies of Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë, and Troilus and Criseyde by Geoffrey Chaucer.

     "My hair isn't naturally blonde."

     The sound of Cara's voice snapped JJ out of her thoughts, her eyes flashing to the left. "Sorry?"

     Gesturing to the photo she'd noticed JJ observing, Cara cleared her throat. "My hair was only blonde when I was a toddler," she said, her chest tightening as her stare lingered on her father. "The older I got, the darker it got. It's naturally brown now."

     "Why do you dye it platinum?" JJ turned around, focusing back on the photograph. "Do you not like the brown?"

     The question made Cara pause for a moment. Just be honest. This isn't information that would anger the Founding Fathers, nor is it of any consequence. "I don't mind the brown. I dyed it platinum after the Surrey Six. I had no control at that time, but I could control my appearance. It was also a way of taking my agency back from Le. He loved my dirty blonde, brown hair. Platinum deviates from that."

     JJ blinked, a little startled by how openly candid her answer was. "That's an effective way to take back control," she commented, still processing the ex-convict's reply. It had been so honest, but it had been delivered so plainly. So void of emotion, but that was a talent of Cara's that JJ had to give her. The woman was well-skilled in masking her emotions and reactions.

     "SON OF A BITCH!"

     The conversation between the blondes ended, and Cara's head turned toward the bathroom. Blake was in the living room with them, exploring Cara's catalog of books, when Penelope's voice echoed across the apartment.

     "Everything good, Bubblegum?" Cara called, confused as to where the colorful analyst had disappeared to.

     "I'm under attack! There's a spider in here!"

     Blake's brows scrunched together. "Are you in the bathroom?"

     "YES! Can someone please come to kill this piece of evil?! My life is in danger!"

     JJ stifled a laugh, a hand flying to her mouth.

     "Pen, breathe," Cara spoke loudly, leaving JJ's side. "It is more afraid of you than you are of it."

     "Did the spider tell you that?!" Penelope exclaimed rhetorically, a scowl on her face when Cara entered the bathroom. The crown she wore was crooked on the top of her head, and she had climbed onto the edge of the tub. "Kill it. Please."

     Sighing, the woman gave her a blank stare. "Where is it?" A shaky hand pointed to the bottom of the sink, and Cara glanced down. On one of the doors, a baby black widow was crawling across. "Aw, it's cute."

     "Are you insane? Cute? Where?!" Penelope shouted, jaw-dropping. How in the world could a spider ever be cute?!

     Cara rolled her eyes and grabbed a small bundle of toilet paper before squashing it. Then, she tossed the paper clump into the toilet and flushed it.

     "My hero."

     "Mhm-hmm. Get off the tub, princess."

     The next three hours and fifty-three minutes consisted of baking cookies and making Ziti alla Norma (eggplant and tomato) pasta, pouring one too many shots, discussing the most bizarre topics, Penelope forcing Cara to take group photos, cracking jokes, and eventually arriving to the topic of the women's tantalizing love lives. A topic that Penelope was a little too excited to get to.

     Blake was the first to go. She shared how her husband, James Blake, had made a surprise visit a few months ago. On this visit, he came bearing news that he'd been offered a teaching position at Harvard University. However, he'd only agree to take it if Blake came with him and took up a position as a linguistics professor. Blake shared that she'd turn down the offer, but they'd made a compromise where she would visit him on weekends and holidays.

     Next went JJ, who surprisingly had little to share with the group. Her marriage hadn't changed since she'd been rescued and brought home. JJ and Will were going as strong as ever, and Cara could see true love gleaming in the blonde's eyes when she talked about her husband. It was admirable and caused the corners of her lips to curl up.

     Then, Penelope couldn't stop bouncing in her seat as she animatedly gushed about Sam. It was as if she'd been waiting her entire life to share all the details of their relationship and tell every story she could remember off the top of her head.

     For the majority of the conversation, Cara had tuned everything out. All she could think about was how similar the members of the BAU team were to Raine and Ace and how badly she missed them.

     The nightmares regarding their murders had yet to subside, and she could still see their unchanged bodies on the floor of her childhood home. The exact home had already seen so much trauma that fresh blood stains didn't alter the bereaved energy that encompassed the space.

     Feeling multiple pairs of eyes on her, Cara glanced up to find the three staring. All thoughts of Raine and Ace and her progressive nightmares vanished. "What?"

     Why were they all staring at her?

     "You're the only one who has yet to talk about anyone special in their life," Blake noted, smiling kindly.

     Oh. Never mind.

     "Well, if you must know..." she began, her enticing tone capturing their attention. "I started reading Troilus and Criseyde, the classic thirteen-eighty-sixth version by Geoffrey Chaucer, last night, and I think I found my one true love."

     Penelope's face fell, and JJ opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it, reaching for another shot on the coffee table. They should have expected that to be her answer.

     A smile tugged at Blake's lips, and she leaned forward. "I read the nineteen-ninety version of the poem a couple of years back. How different is it from the original?"

     Cara's eyes lit up a bit, excited to talk to someone other than Spencer about British literature. "I'm not sure, but it's written in classic Middle English, giving it a more courtly and ornate feel. I started Book Three this morning."

     Blake nodded. "My favorite is Book Four. You'll like it."

     The pair were interrupted by Penelope's waving hands. "Hold it, hold it, hold it," she stated, turning to the blonde. "What about Spencer?" she asked, and the other women averted their focus to Cara.

     "What about Spencer?" Cara repeated, downing another shot as she could tell she would need it.

     "Isn't he someone special in your life?" Penelope pressed, raising a brow.

     Ah, hell. This again.

     At first, Cara hadn't minded much when the comments about her and Spencer started because they held no truth. Now, however, she was genuinely becoming annoyed. She didn't talk about how she felt; the technical analyst beside her knew this. Everyone knew this. Cara Valentine wasn't one to show her emotions, nor was she one to talk about them. And she especially didn't admit when she liked someone. Not now, at least with the Founding Fathers still out there. It was too dangerous to dangle someone she cared about in the air and imagine what could or couldn't be.

     "Don't," she warned, shaking her head.

     "The two of you are very close," Blake mentioned, giving her a warm and supportive smile. The kind of smile that pulled at Cara's heart and tempted her to open her mouth.

     Averting her eyes, she nodded slightly. "He saved me," she mumbled.

     From where JJ sat on the other side of her, she watched as the woman's shoulders tensed, and she bit the inside of her cheek. She rubbed her right thumb against her left wrist in her lap.

     "You're scared that if you admit you have feelings for him, he'll wound up hurt," JJ stated softly, understanding why her friend was staying silent.

     The two locked eyes and Cara did nothing but blink in response. No matter how comfortable she felt with the three women at that moment, she knew she wouldn't say more than she should. Withholding the truth was easy. It had just gotten harder the longer she was on the team. Relationships and connections formed over time, and the blonde had to remember that she must be selective with what she spilled.

     It would get ugly if the Founding Fathers ever got their hands on a member and knew information that they shouldn't or things about her. Until they were locked away, some things had to be dialed back. Spencer already knew more than he should, and he was the only one she trusted enough with the truth. He was the only one she allowed herself to feel around.

     "As I've told Penelope in the past, I prefer being alone."

     Narrowing her eyes, the analyst sat up, "And as I told you last time: That's a lonely way to live."

     Cara shrugged lightly, leaning back into the couch. "And I'll reply the same way: It's an easy way to die, though."

     Her words cast a dark shadow over the room, and Blake and JJ made eye contact. Although her words held some truth, it was disheartening to hear her say them with such conviction and faith. Cara Valentine truly believed she would live and die alone, and she was okay with that.

     That fact sent a chill down JJ's spine, and she frowned, glancing at the empty shot glass in her hand. There were many layers to the woman across from her, and she wanted to know more but was also concerned about what she would find.

     "You're not dying alone, Rose. You have us." Penelope replied, reaching over and squeezing her hand.

     The breath in Cara's throat hitched, and she stiffened. Flashes of what Le and the other Founding Fathers could do to them played in her mind, and she forced herself to nod. "We'll see," she choked out, not wanting to crush her friend's sweet optimism.

     Only one of the three women seemed to accept that as her response, while the other two couldn't help but notice the shift in tone. These were words she didn't believe in herself; what she said was out of care, not truth.

     Cara hadn't lied to them, but she was holding back.