0.4
❝My specialty is being right when other people are wrong.❞
GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
✩
0.4 : simple deduction
OR
season 3, episode 20 : lo-fi (ctd.)
FIN'S PRETTY SURE SHE'S NOT FLEXIBLE ENOUGH TO FOLD IN HALF, SO WHY ARE THERE FEET NEAR HER FACE? She rubs the sleep from her eyes and blinks, trying to focus. There's someone else in the bed, rolled over, facing the wall, breathing deeply beneath the blankets. What in the hell-?
And then there's a loud rap rap on the door, which explains why Fin's suddenly awake. "Hey, kid, it's almost seven. Get ya ass out of bed."
Kid? Morgan never calls her "kid". Fin brushes her hair out of her eyes and pushes herself up on one elbow, blinking around at the room. She's still wearing her clothes from yesterday, which is odd. There's a map on the bedside table, a tie hanging over the bathroom door-oh. Oh, dear.
Fin groans, closing her eyes. "Shit."
"Good morning to you, too."
Spencer's sitting up in bed behind her, yawning. He catches her eye and looks away, flushing. "I, uh-Hi."
"Why didn't you wake me up last night?" Fin asks. She can't help but notice his t-shirt is hitched up on the side, exposing his bare hip, and she looks away, feeling suddenly warm.
"It was late," Spencer replies. "I just didn't see the point of making you leave when you were so peaceful."
RAP RAP. "Hey, kid, we don't have all day. What are you doing in there?"
"Coming!" Spencer calls. Avoiding Fin's eyes, he climbs out of the bed and shuffles over to the door, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He opens the door a few inches. "What?"
"He lives," Morgan says sarcastically. He's already fully dressed, apparently ready to go. "We're about to head out. There's coffee and bagels at headquarters."
"I'll be down in a minute," Spencer replies dismissively. Fin slides off the bed and pulls her shoes out, sliding them on. She has to change; her blouse is all wrinkled. And something needs to be done about this hair. It looks like some birds had sex in it all night. Like all night.
"Hang on a minute." Morgan peers past Spencer, staring at Fin on the floor. "Fin? What are you doing in Reid's room?"
"Derek-" Fin stands up, glaring at him. She doesn't need this today. "Say nothing."
"Late night?" Morgan smirks, and Fin makes sure to shoulder-check him hard on her way out the door.
"Shut up," she growls, fumbling in her pocket for her key card. All she wants is coffee, a bagel, and a little bit of silence please God.
Before Spencer or Morgan can say anything else, Fin slams the door of her room shut. She leans her head against the door and closes her eyes. "Shit." Her head throbs painfully, which is just wonderful. A headache is just lovely.
Fin rummages through her duffel bag and fishes out a pair of navy slacks and a blue blouse. Not her favorite blouse, but it's not wrinkled and it goes well with her white Converse. God, I hope someone has Advil.
When she's changed, she pokes her head into the bathroom and runs a hand through her hair, staring in the mirror. Okay, so it's not quite so bad. But just to be safe, she pulls the top half into a ponytail and tries her best to make it lie flat. Damn curly hair.
And to top off her whole morning, she makes it to the elevator before the doors close, so she gets to ride down to the lobby with Spencer-and Morgan. For five. Whole. Floors.
"Do you have any Advil, Spencer?" Fin asks, kneeling down to finish tying her shoes.
Spencer scrunches up his nose, concentrating hard. He looks very nice in a white-checked shirt and a black sweater vest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Fin's a big fan of guys in sweater vests; it really should be more popular. "No? I don't think so."
"Shit." She stands up, her head throbbing again.
"Sorry." He frowns at her. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just a headache."
"Just a headache?" Morgan smirks at the pair of them.
"God, Derek, I fell asleep in his room staring at a map that marks the places people died." Fin's had it with his teasing shit. She has had not enough coffee today to deal with this. "I get headaches when I'm seriously sleep-deprived. Now, for the love of God, please leave it alone."
"Okay, okay." He holds his hands up in surrender, eyebrows raised. "Down, tiger."
The elevator doors open with a soft ding to reveal the rest of the team in the lobby. Hotch looks up and nods when he sees them. "Good, everyone's here. Let's go."
"Penna," Fin whispers, lagging behind a little to talk to Penelope.
"Yes, pet? Why are we whispering?" Penelope frowns. Fin doesn't understand how she can wear six-inch heels working this job, but to each their own.
"Do you have any Advil? My head is killing me."
"Aww." Penelope leans over and kisses her temple sweetly. "Yeah, I think there's some in my purse." Her long pink nails make a clicking sound against the clasp of her bag. "Maybe...in here? Ah ha!" She pulls out a small bottle of Advil triumphantly. "Here you are, my dove."
"Oh, thank God," Fin groans. "You're my hero, PG."
"Oh, you know it, Hazelnut," Penelope replies cheerfully.
They split up halfway through their trip; Morgan and Emily meet up with Brustin and Cooper to talk to the detectives, while the rest of them head to the FBI field office to give the profile to the other agents.
As promised, there's coffee and bagels waiting for them at headquarters, which is a gift directly from heaven, and Spencer and Fin are first to the coffee bar. His arm brushes hers as he reaches for the sugar, and he says quietly, "Hey, I'm sorry about Morgan. He thinks he's funny, sometimes, and he doesn't really know where to draw the line."
"It's fine." Fin shrugs, popping two Advil into her mouth and downing them with a swig of coffee. "I went to college for four years, Spence. I know how guys are." College guys are like any other man on steroids, sometimes literally. Dirty jokes, B.O., alcohol, and ridiculous sex drives. Gag.
"So we're okay?"
What? "Yeah, we're fine." Fin chuckles. "I fell asleep on your bed, Spencer. It's really not that weird."
Spencer looks down, avoiding her eyes, a blush creeping up his neck. "That just-It doesn't happen to me, with girls-I mean, it's just not normal for me."
Aww. Even though her head is absolutely killing her and she'd like nothing more than to fall asleep right here, Fin can't resist the smile that creeps across her face. "Didn't you ever have sleepovers in college?"
"I was thirteen in college." Spencer sips his coffee, eyebrows raised at her.
Fin snickers. "I'll take that as a no, then."
"You two ready to give the profile?" Rossi asks from across the room, standing near Kate, who looks like she hasn't slept all night. And to be fair, she probably hasn't.
Spencer nods and passes Fin a bagel. "Ready."
"H-how did you know I wanted a bagel?" Fin asks, frowning.
"You've been eyeing them ever since we walked in," he replies. "Simple deduction."
"Okay, Sherlock." Fin's impressed, which, she thinks now, seems to be a common thing around Dr. Reid. "Let's go give that profile."
"We have two theories, one of which is that we're dealing with a team," Rossi says, standing in the center of the room, surrounded by agents. "In the case of the D.C. snipers, there was actually one intended victim."
"John Muhammad wanted to kill his ex-wife," Spencer says, gesturing with his hands, the way he always does when he's explaining. "But he knew if he did, he'd be the prime suspect, so he created a spree in order to mask his primary motivation."
"Muhammad and Malvo also left a death card at one of their scenes, just like this unsub." Kate lifts her head high, looks confident. Fin knows she's never given a profile before, but she seems confident in contributing, even relaxed. She wonders how much of that is true and how much is practice and a good poker face.
"We believe our unsubs have studied that case extensively," Fin says now, swallowing her bite of bagel. New York bagels are seriously on another level. "They're now opening a line of communication, seeking attention from us and the media. They've also studied the new surveillance systems and the placement of the cameras well enough to avoid detection."
"Most teams have a dominant and submissive member," Spencer adds, nodding encouragingly at Fin. "Because of the relative intelligence of these unsubs and the fact that they stick to a set time pattern, we believe at least one of them has a steady job."
"We've asked the police to canvass their precincts, check businesses that open and close around the time of the shootings." Rossi leans back against a desk behind him, sips his coffee carefully. "We're hoping someone will be able to identify a father-son or coworkers that fit the dominant-submissive profile."
A young black agent near the front raises her hand and Spencer raises his eyebrows, nods to her.
"And what's the other theory?" she asks.
"Uh, it's less likely, but it could be some sort of gang initiation," Spencer replies.
"We've asked the police to put every available undercover on the streets," Rossi adds.
Fin moves her coffee and reaches for the stack of files Kate had ready for them when they arrived. "These are all known gang members in Manhattan." She hands a few to Spencer and Rossi, so they can help pass them out to the other agents. "Most of them are out of Chinatown and Clinton, neighborhoods with lots of reported gang involvement."
"We'd like you to study these and keep an eye out for anyone who looks suspicious," Spencer says, handing out the last of his files and reaching for his coffee cup.
"I'll also be detailing a number of you, as well," Kate interjects, stepping forward. "Stay behind when the agents have finished and I'll give you your assignments."
Slowly, the agents gathered around them file out, some stopping to talk to Kate, others grabbing coffee and a bagel on their way out the door. Fin plops down in a chair, pulls her coffee cup close to her. It's not good coffee, but it's caffeine, which is the most important thing, aside from the Advil finally kicking in.
"You don't wear heels."
Fin looks up, frowns at Spencer standing next to her. "I was literally wearing heels yesterday."
"You only wear heels the first day," he amends his statement. "Only the first day, and then you don't wear them again. Why?"
"Establish rapport, gain respect." Fin shrugs. "Then after that, I can wear shoes that don't give me blisters. And anyway, it's bad juju to wear the same pair of heels two days in a row."
"Where'd you get that from?" Spencer frowns, sits down in the chair next to her, both hands wrapped around his cup of coffee like he's a basic white girl in a Christmas movie.
"I did it once in college and the second day, I tripped down a flight of stairs and broke my wrist in two places." Fin grins over at him. "Simple deduction. Don't wear the same heels twice in a row."
"Hm." Spencer looks amused, sipping his coffee slowly. "I can honestly say I've never heard that before."
"Well, you can add that to your long list of wise sayings. I'm sure you know a few."
"'A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool,'" Spencer says, a little proudly.
"Let me guess... Confucius." Fin knows it's probably not right, but it's better to try than to just give up.
He shakes his head. "Shakespeare. That's one of my favorite quotes, actually. It's incredibly applicable to life."
"Do you have a list of favorite quotes?" Fin asks, suddenly excited. Finally, someone else who likes quotes as much as she does.
Spencer taps the side of his head, grinning. "I've never written them down, but they're all up here."
"Of course they are." Fin shakes her head, laughing. "You're definitely predictable."
"I am not!" he protests. "I happen to be very enigmatic."
"Favorite music album?"
A slight blush makes its way up from Spencer's collar. "The Complete Works of Beethoven," he mutters.
Knew it. Fin snickers. "Called it. See? You're predictable!"
"What about you? Do you have a list of favorite quotes?"
"Changing the subject. Very sneaky." But Fin's too excited to talk about her quotes to keep teasing him. "I have a wall in my apartment where I pin up index cards. I've got quotes, song lyrics, old sayings... Anything I find beautiful, I guess."
"Do you have a favorite?" Spencer asks, leaning forward slightly. He's definitely interested in this conversation; it's intellectual, but also deep. He is predictable, but also delightfully surprising at times. Fin likes it.
One quote appears at the front of her mind like a dream, right as Spencer asks his question. "'If it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts.'"
"Anna Karenina." Spencer raises his eyebrows, apparently impressed. "Wow."
"I love that quote," Fin says, holding her coffee cup close to her mouth, on the verge of drinking it but waiting to formulate her thoughts first. "It's just-I think we as humans create a standard we hold love to, when in reality, all loves are different, you know? Like we all have needs and we all have dreams and our loves just exist differently."
Spencer takes a bite out of his bagel, lost in thought. Fin wonders if he might actually be speechless, or if that's even possible. And then the phone has to go and ring and ruin the moment. Damn the universe's timing.
Fin leans over and presses the ACCEPT button, lifting the receiver to her ear. "Finley here. Speak and be heard."
"Is Hotch there?" It's Penelope, but her usual cheeriness is lost; she sounds strained and anxious.
"Is everything okay?" Fin asks, standing up. Please please please-
"Just get Hotch."
"Okay, okay." Fin waves at Spencer. "Go get him!"
He nods, jumps up. Within seconds, he's back, with Hotch and Kate in tow. "Hotchner," Hotch says, taking the phone from Fin. His expression darkens-Fin didn't know that was possible. "Does it look like he could be one of our guys?"
Morgan and Rossi approach them; Fin didn't even know Morgan and Emily were back. "What's going on?" asks Morgan.
"We've got eyes on one of them," Hotch replies, setting the receiver back down and pressing SPEAKER, his expression grim. "He's on the subway platform at 59th and Lex."
"59th-?" Morgan's fists clench; Fin takes a step back instinctively. Shit, he's mad. "We could've been right there!"
"He's got a gun." Penelope's voice is quiet, eerily calm over the speaker.
"Oh, my god." Another voice, one Fin doesn't know.
Penelope inhales sharply. "He shot her."
Kate's chewing on her lip, pacing. "Where the hell are the police?" She storms over to a desk and punches a few numbers into one of the other phones. "This is Kate Joyner with the FBI-"
But Fin's not paying attention to her; she's watching Morgan. He turns away from Hotch, eyes closed, his hand on the back of his neck. He is royally pissed and she doesn't blame him. He suggested they patrol express stops, and he was right. Hotch should've listened.
"He's getting away," Penelope says, her voice trembling.
"Garcia, can you get eyes on him aboveground?" Rossi asks, a steadying voice of calm.
A moment of silence, then: "He's heading west on 59th Street."
"If he makes it to the Park, we've lost him," says Kate, now off the phone, staring blankly up at them.
"We've lost the visual," says the unfamiliar voice.
Morgan closes his eyes, shaking his head. Fin leans back against the desk, crossing her arms. They should've been out there. Someone would've seen him, maybe even caught him. Shit.
"Are the police on the scene?" asks Rossi, leaning over the phone.
"Negative." Penelope's voice is monotone, and Fin knows she's kicking herself, wishing she could've done better. Poor, sweet Penelope.
"We could've had that guy!" Morgan says, speaking for the first time, his tone sharp and biting.
"Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would've moved on to somewhere more isolated," Kate says, avoiding Morgan's eyes.
"Maybe, but it was worth taking a shot!" He's not backing down, nor should he. He was right, and he deserves to speak his mind.
Kate looks up at him now, and the look she gives him is grating. "We had every available man on the street."
"And I suggested to you that you use this team," Morgan bites back, and Hotch holds his hand up.
"Second-guessing doesn't do us any good right now."
"Hotch, how am I supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we're actually here to help them?" Morgan points toward the elevator, staring daggers at Hotch.
"We're here to present a profile," Hotch replies. "That's what we need to do."
"We suggested patrolling express stops," Fin says quietly, eyes on the pair of them. "14th, 42nd, 59th-and that's exactly where they hit next."
Spencer nudges her arm warningly, as if to say Stay out, but there is no way in hell Fin's letting Morgan bear the brunt of Hotch's talking-to. They suggested it together, and she'll defend him. They're part of a team.
Hotch looks between Morgan and Fin, almost disappointed. "It is not your place to have this discussion."
"My place?" Morgan frowns disbelievingly.
"You need to back off." Hotch looks back at Fin. "Both of you."
"No, Morgan's right," Fin says, standing up straight, eyes on Hotch. "We should've been out there. We should've taken that chance. Even if we did lose him, we'd be a hell of a lot closer to him than we are right now."
"We got seven bodies, man!" Morgan's tone is that of utter contempt and disbelief.
"Which is exactly why we need to stay focused," Hotch snaps, brow furrowed.
"Focused." Morgan's expression clearly says Hypocrite. He steps closer to Hotch, lowers his voice. "From where I'm standing, all your focus is on her." He points to Kate, who rolls her eyes and turns away.
Fin inhales sharply. That was too far. She agrees with Morgan silently, but there are some things that just don't need to be said.
"Take a walk," Hotch says quietly, tone deadly serious. "Now." He turns to Fin. "Both of you."
Morgan swallows hard, turns and stomps off toward the elevator. Spencer looks worried, so Fin pats his arm, wordlessly saying It'll be fine, and follows Morgan. She could use a sandwich right about now, so good timing. But she wonders, slightly worriedly, if this means she's lost Hotch's trust, and if so, how much it'll take to gain it back.
✩
Fin's back at headquarters within half an hour, significantly less pissed at the world. There's an amazing sandwich shop just down the block that has a bomb turkey and avocado panini, and she realized, halfway through eating it, that maybe she was just hungry. But also she and Morgan were right.
Morgan and Rossi appear five minutes after her, and Morgan still looks like he wants to kill someone. Maybe he just always looks like that. He spots her at the coffee bar and makes a beeline for her. "Hey."
"Hey." Fin turns around to face him, stirring her coffee slowly with a plastic spoon. "Feel better?"
"Well, I spent twelve bucks on a beer and didn't drink it, so..." Morgan moves his hands up and down in an "ehhh" gesture, then laughs quietly. "How about you?"
"I had a sandwich, drank an espresso, and watched several Chinese men argue over the price of a chicken." Fin shrugs. "I think I might've just been hangry."
Morgan chuckles. "I feel ya, sister." Then his expression softens. "Thanks for having my back, though. I appreciate it."
"Well, you were right," Fin says. "We should've been out there. Hotch just isn't one to budge, and he's definitely not one to admit he's wrong." Classic type C.
"That is the most true thing you've said, angel," Morgan replies, shaking his head and grinning. "Now come on." He holds out his arm jokingly. "We've got to go apologize to Kate."
"Do we have to?" Fin scrunches up her nose, looping her arm through his. She's not big on apologies; they suck.
"It's the right thing to do."
"Yeah, yeah."
Hotch and Kate are in her office, and the door's open, so Rossi, Morgan, and Fin step cautiously inside. When they look up, Morgan steps forward, already deeply uncomfortable. "Listen, um..." he starts, swallowing. "About before-"
Kate shakes her head. "You spoke your mind." Her eyes move to Fin. "I respect that."
Phew. Fin honestly would've pegged Kate as a grudge-holding bitch, but the forgiveness in her expression is a surprise. A good one, actually.
"JJ, Reid, and Prentiss went to the crime scene with the detectives," says Hotch, his eyes on a laptop on the desk in front of him.
"This is the first time they've killed two days in a row," Rossi says. "They're speeding up."
"Your analyst went over the latest footage." Kate's expression is grim. "This is a different shooter from the last two."
"There's three of them now?" Fin frowns. What in the royal hell?
"Who the hell are these guys?" Morgan shakes his head. He's pissed, but not at Kate or Hotch this time; rather, at the fact that they haven't caught these bastards yet. Fin understands how he feels.
"I want you all out on the street tomorrow." It looks like it pains Kate to say this, but she does anyway, leaning forward across the desk. About time.
"What are we missing?" Rossi shoves his hands in his pockets, brow furrowed.
"When we first saw this case, what did it remind us of?" asks Hotch.
"Son of Sam," Rossi answers.
"Same kind of unsub." Hotch nods. "Random shootings, not need-driven, no sexual component."
"Except that Berkowitz admitted that he would return to the scenes of his crimes days later to masturbate," Morgan corrects him.
"Ugh." Fin makes a face. Serial killers are so freaking weird.
"Exactly." Hotch nods at Morgan. Fin notices he hasn't looked at her once since she walked in. Oof. This might be worse than she thought.
"Wait, so you're thinking if the dominant unsub has a similar M.O..." Kate trails off, looks up at Hotch questioningly.
"We get Garcia to study the footage and see if the same person keeps returning to the crime scene in the days following the shootings," Hotch replies. "All we've been looking at right now are the immediate aftermaths of the crimes."
Rossi shrugs. "It's worth a shot."
"And we'll hit the street tomorrow. Dave, will you grab Reid and go over the profile, make sure we didn't leave anything out?" Hotch asks.
Rossi nods, turns to the door. Fin follows him out, her mind already on another cup of coffee. This is gonna be another long night.
~
morgan and fin being tag-team besties are my new favorite thing.
also, just to clear up something: YES fin is going to steal lines from people because not everything in this story is going to be completely canon. she's a psych major and an almost-genius, so if a line from someone else fits her personality, i will steal it. this is a fanfiction so i have the right to do that.
also fin IS human, so she's gonna make a shit-ton of mistakes and y'all are probably gonna hate her sometimes. but everyone else makes mistakes too. i'm not into perfect heroines, so when she lies or gets mad or does whatever the hell she wants and it's a bad decision, please don't comment saying i should kill her off, because she's imperfect. the whole point of this book is to show humanity and how, even when we make mistakes, we can grow from it. she's gonna suck but she's human. so yeah
i love y'all <33 please comment with ship name ideas because i suck at coming up with them lol okay maia oUT!
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