𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 - jason gideon

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 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 a reader. She could devour a novel within minutes, she could stare down an article depicting the worst of the worst and have it embedded within her memory in mere seconds... so as she looked around the room of people that were all at least four or five years older than her herself, she couldn't help but let out a sigh.

 'An introduction to criminal profiling' was smeared over the grotty-looking whiteboard at the front of the seminar hall. Everyone looked eager, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as they bounced in their seats. She heard a couple of boys just a few seats away profess that they'd become the 'best of the best'...

 Selena almost grinned; how could they possibly hope to be the best of the best when one of them had his shoelaces undone and trapped beneath the heel of his friend, while another had a ketchup stain splodged down his shirt — if he had accomplished the impossible and missed his gigantic mouth, who knows what he'd miss on a damned crime scene.

 The young teenager could feel eyes press against her flesh as people passed her by, deciding to politely pass up the seats surrounding her chair. She felt as though she were a caged animal, as though her classmates were snot-nosed children breathing against her glass tank.

 Though, she couldn't quite blame them... it must have looked rather strange to see a fourteen-year-old girl perched upon a seat without a care in the world, while the sea of eighteen-and-above-year-olds sailed in with grins galore and perfectly sharpened pencils.

 Still, Selena was exactly three weeks into her new studies, and they were proving to be far less than fruitful. An introduction to criminal profiling was not what she needed, she had already been introduced. She had already stared death in the eyes and slept beside him. She had allowed death to taint her blood and bones... they were rivals, enemies. She did not need an introduction.

 It was all folly; the contents of her pristinely crisp 'Criminal Profiling: an Introductory Guide'... but Matthew had insisted. Selena's dearest — a word used with utmost animosity — brother had insisted that she study as all others did because apparently, 'a crime scene is no place for a child'.

 A sound statement it would have been, had Matthew not been one to pick and choose when to apply such logic, and of course, if it was not directed at a genius who could pull a man apart with her stare. But Matthew Hayes always got his way — after all, big brother was practically the British Government itself.

 Selena slumped backwards, pressing the pink and white of her skirt closer to her thighs. Perhaps that was another reason for the stares and gazes... a girl with blonde hair donned in nothing but shades of pink and white. Her nails glossed with glitter while her half-up and half-down hair was smothered in hairclips in the shapes of pink hearts and yellow stars.

 Selena blinked as the door to the lecture hall was finally pried open; had another thirty-six-point-seven seconds passed her by, she could have trailed the length of the oak-wood staircase, meandered through cold halls and trifled through passing crowds until she was back within her accommodation.

 But as Selena peered out of her peripheral to watch as their dreary lecturer Howard Mullan plonked down the stairs with about as much grace and decorum as a toddler learning to walk, she soon surmised that the steps were far too light and sure to have possibly belonged to Mullan.

 She waited, watching as their mystery visitor gravitated towards the whiteboard. He held a manilla folder snug beneath his arm, and from the way he walked as though wading through muddied waters, Selena could only guess that this man had something far more insightful to share with them all.

 "My name is Jason Gideon."

 Selena leaned forth. American, that much was terribly obvious from the drawl of his tongue. Already she could see confidence oozing off him in waves, and yet not in a way that made it unbearable to watch. He made eye contact, he gestured, and he waited between words to gauge their reactions.

 Jason Gideon. Selena knew the name well; he, as well as David Rossi, had been the two that started what had soon become the BAU. Gideon was known for the way he profiled, for the astute observations he made all while under duress... She narrowed her eyes, watching as he splayed the manila folder over the pitiful excuse of a desk before him, and when he looked up, their eyes seemed to meet.

 Curiosity glimmered within his own, and something akin to the slightest tick of a smile hiked the left side of his face.

 Perhaps she would be learning something today.

 "Miss Hayes." Jason Gideon hummed, eyes sweeping over the empty lecture hall. He'd asked her to remain, watching with a careful eye as every gaze within the room had fallen upon her — she hadn't so much as blinked. Gideon's brows rose as he stared at the papers strewn over his desk, "Hm, soon to be Doctor Hayes?"

 Selena crossed one leg over the other upon her seat at the front of the hall, saying, "I've sent an application for a place within Oxford's Criminal Justice programme. I plan to start next year."

 "An application?"

 "A case study, if you will." Selena blinked, catching his eyes with a certain hint of knowingness, "I certainly have the experiences to conduct such a study, don't I?"

 Gideon flicked his gaze back to the papers he'd been following. He'd never utter a word about it, but Jason Gideon had come to England with a purpose. He had offered to provide a lecture or two for a very specific reason. That reason was sitting before him, clad in bubblegum pink.

 There were always documents of particular people. There were always lists of individuals that were thought to be a threat to the very threads that kept the world together. Great minds, evil ones... Selena Hayes was on such a list herself.

 A mind that was certainly too bright and flooded with knowledge for someone of her age. He'd flicked through her examinations, finding that the glaring red ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT dotted atop each paper had started to lose all meaning.

 He had been impressed, but it was when Jason had stumbled over a case thought to have been buried by Matthew Hayes himself, had he planned his flight to England. Less than seven months ago did Selena Hayes catch a murderer. Less than seven months ago did she lead the police of Scotland Yard to the scene of a crime with every little piece of evidence she had gathered.

 Seven months ago, had been when Selena Hayes' childhood had been ripped out from beneath her, like a blood-stained rug.

 "Yes," Gideon agreed to Selena's statement, for there was no use in attempting to hide that he knew the truth. No, Selena had probably sniffed out that little sliver of information like a bloodhound the moment he'd laid eyes on her, "I would say that you do."

 "What exactly am I doing here?"

 "Your brother has allowed you to assist the police in..." Jason peered over the paper in his hands, "Five investigations since your... 'Experiences'."

 "Very astute."

 Her voice was bland, yet another sign of her trauma... Gideon surmised, or perhaps not, he then corrected as he glazed his eyes over her medical history, "I'm not here to pick you apart —"

 "— You wouldn't be able to."

 Gideon smiled at that, "I wanted you to look at something for me. Fresh eyes, an extraordinary brain... and a very logical way of thinking."

 Selena rose a single and perfectly arched brow. She took a silent sip of the iced peach tea beside her, feeling condensation moisten her fingertips — she hastily wiped it away, "You want my help?"

 "Yes, I do."

 To watch a grown man admit such a thing without a hint of embarrassment, without so much as a bruised ego... it was rather enlightening, Selena found. In her experience, the police seldom enjoyed watching as a 'little girl' paraded over their crime scenes and pulled out pieces of evidence they had yet to even consider. It made them red in the face.

 "Show me." She held out a manicured hand, gesturing with pink-varnished fingers. Within a beat, the manilla folder was within her grasp. She flicked through the various gory images; women with lacerations at their necks, bruises covering their wrists... Apparently, each of the poor things had died from tetanus. 

 She plucked an image from the folder, "This here," She flashed Gideon the picture, poking at the woman's lips, "Her lips may be bruised and bloodied... and honestly who would bother to look at them..."

 "But you did?"

 "But I have." Selena stood, and the heels of her white mary-janes clicked upon the varnished floor, "Right there is a puncture hole. Now, if we look at Briar Heavens, she too has the same puncture... much harder to decipher given the slice right above her lip, but it's there."

 "You can quite easily tell by the shape and volume of these women's lips that they've recently had filler. I'd say Briar here would have had them topped up about, oh about three or four weeks ago." Selena poked at the puncture once again, "The puncture is almost healed, and each of these bruises are new — thus not an after-effect of the filler, given that bruises and swelling tend to disappear after two to three weeks."

 Selena took a breath, and a sip of tea, "These reports say that the lacerations, the bruises and cuts... they were all made post-mortem. So, let's wipe all of those away. Take away everything that was done post-mortem and the only thing left is —

 "— The puncture wounds."

 "They died from tetanus, large quantities, in fact. They all have lacerations and cuts smothered in the damn stuff, but if those wounds were all made post-mortem, then the tetanus was simply placed there to make it seem as though the tools used to inflict such wounds were... filthy, that they were the cause of death. That's not the case. They were injected with it, and they were injected with filler... the two are synonymous in this case. Whoever gave them these pouts, also poisoned them."

 Gideon leaned back in his seat, wheels scraping against the ground, "The inflicted cuts were a diversion. They hoped we'd trace the weapon, not the needle, and we did."

 "Yes, well..." Selena had nothing more to add. It was a mistake they'd made, rather callous and careless, but then again, she'd never met someone who looked as closely as she did, "You have my conclusion. Tell your team, and let me know whether I'm right."

 "And if I said I have another folder with me?"

 Selena rose her head, suddenly disinterested in the meticulous way she'd started to pack away her things. A lilac pencil balanced atop her finger, "I'd say to hand it over, and that I'll get it back to you in three hours."

 "Three?"

 "Probably two."

 Selena Hayes, at just twenty-two years of age, had done more than most could ever hope to achieve in their lifetime. She had walked out the doors of her delightful private secondary school at the small age of twelve, she had faced death and stared into his bleak eyes at fourteen, and then... then she had met Jason Gideon just seven months later.

 On that day, that peculiar little day to which Gideon had decided to fly to England all in the hopes of meeting a teenager with a brain far too big for her head, Selena had solved two cases. They had been snug in their folders, a stamp plastered over the front to deter any eyes from peeking inwards.

 Gideon had handed them over without a second thought, and just one hour and fifty-eight minutes later, Selena had returned them. Sloppy handwriting had been plastered over the pages, pastel-coloured highlighter had been smeared over words... and the remnants of red string still remained.

 Now, what Selena hadn't known, was that one of the cases she'd craned over had already been solved, their perpetrators already sealed behind iron bars. She hadn't known that there were little snippets of information Gideon and his team hadn't started with, slipped inside. But that didn't mean that Jason Gideon hadn't been impressed. How she had cracked them in half the time his brilliant team had, had bewildered him entirely.

 That day had been the day that Jason Gideon had become her mentor. That day had occurred just over eight years ago, and it certainly hadn't deterred Selena Hayes from the insatiable desire to catch the evil prowling through their streets.

 Selena knew nothing but catching criminals, cracking cases and solving puzzles. She had been employed by her own brother, stuffed in a department that allowed her access to the world and its abominations. He used her, that much she knew, after all... what better way to establish relationships around the world, than to pimp out one's sister as his consulting detective?

 Thinking of Gideon only led to the remembrance that he had finally rejoined the BAU; she remembered his email depicting that their usual meetings and her here-and-there lectures by his side would have to slow and become far more sparse.

 After a long six months of resting and recuperating, Jason Gideon was back to his old ways; a criminal profiler unlike any other. He'd spoken of his team once or twice, but other than their names and most predominant traits, Selena couldn't say she knew them at all.

 She blinked, far too focused on the internal mutterings of her own mind — back to the situation at hand.

 Selena peered at the papers flooding the floor; she rather liked a birdseye view when it came to pulling cases apart by the seams. Her cherry-print sock-clad feet tapped against the lacquered table she towered atop, blinking through a haze as she followed her crimson-coloured strings from slivers of information, to the most gory of images.

 "Excuse me?" A voice called, and as Selena looked up, she could see that the detective desperate for her help was craning around the door, "Doctor? You have a call."

 Selena frowned, "A call? No name?"

 "He said his name is Matthew?"

 The ferocity of her eye roll was almost painful. Her brother knew their boundaries, hell after years upon years of incessant arguments, she'd thought he'd finally caught on. Nonetheless, even despite the growing itch of irritation flaring over her skin like an undesirable rash, Selena hopped from the table, landing perfectly between pristine papers.

 Her toes were slipped back into her black mary-janes, flowing trousers almost covering them entirely, "Thank you."

 Then, she slipped out of the room. As all eyes fell to her high-held head, watching long locks of blonde sway in time with each step, Selena adjusted the collar of her white turtleneck, soon pausing beside the desk housing an old telephone, "What?"

 Matthew snorted, "Lovely to see you have your manners intact, Selena."

 "I really don't have all day, I'm about to wrap up a case and you decide now is the perfect time for a call? We don't call, Matthew."

 "Ah, if that's the case, then I suppose you'd like me to turn Jason Gideon away, then?"

 Selena stilled, pulling the telephone from her ear for a short second. She glared at it, hoping against all odds her dearest brother would burst into flames. She scoffed, "Why didn't you start with that?"

 His laugh on the other end was endlessly infuriating, "I thought that would get your attention. How about you learn to answer your mobile, sister."

 "Hurry it up."

 "Yes, yes... Well, I'll connect the call. Do hurry along and solve that case, would you? It'll do wonders for us."

 Selena gritted her teeth with such force, she truly thought one might possibly pop out and land in the poor detective's coffee mug. Her brother's use of 'us' didn't escape her, neither did the knowledge that the 'us' to which he referred, was decidedly nothing to actually do with her at all.

 No, for of course Matthew Hayes was using his little sister to build rapport with Amercia. He truly was a gem of the highest standard.

 The dial tone beeped within her ear, and Selena simply couldn't help but pull the telephone away for a second time with a grimace at the dull buzzing sound. She waited until the line crackled from afar, until a grizzly voice trailed towards her ears. Then, she brought it close, "Gideon?"

 She was certain he could hear the curiosity in her tone, for Jason Gideon seldom used his mobile. Still, the older man waited a beat, silencing the hurried voices spurting within his vicinity, "Selena, what would you say if I asked for your assistance on a case?"

 Selena tested the thought. She trailed it around her tongue like strawberry gum, stretching and pulling until it popped, "On a case. You want me there?"

 He'd skipped all formalities, and while there were few that still existed between mentor and student, Selena knew that something bad, something terrible must have happened. Jason Gideon was a hard man to decipher. He kept each of his emotions behind a locked door made of steel and encased in diamond. He did not let things slip... but the smallest of slip-ups was more than enough for Selena Hayes to sniff out the truth.

 "I..." He paused, and that was all Selena needed to confirm her theory. Something was wrong. Jason tried again, "I have three bomb victims."

 Bomb victims. Selena knew well enough how it felt to trifle with PTSD, how it felt to dance around emotions that didn't belong to your person, and how it felt to puppeteer a body that no longer felt as though it was your own... But while Jason Gideon appeared rather chilly from an outsider's perspective, Selena truly believed that a person couldn't find a man more caring than he.

 So it was no wonder that he was asking for her help — after all, to find himself staring down at pictures of bomb victims just months after losing six people to an explosion set by Adrian Bale, well, Selena knew that Gideon hadn't taken it well, and neither had the media.

 "Okay," Selena breathed, her mind already well and truly made. She shook out a hand and tapped each finger against her thumb just once, "Where?"

 "Palm Beach."

 Selena grimaced. Florida.

 "I'll —" Gideon's voice faded once more as he turned to his team, "— I'll get the Tech girl to send you the details."

 Selena peered through the blind-covered window secured to the room she'd previously been skulking within. By all accounts, it'd take her no more than thirteen minutes to wrap up the case and hand it on over to the sheriff — she'd be in the air in less than thirty minutes, "I'll see you there."

 "And Selena?" Gideon called, waiting for her hum, "Thank you."

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DATE: 08/07/2023

:･ﾟ★ SLAYLENA FR? no but seriously, i'm actually very proud of this prologue... and YES we're starting with adrian bale and his copycat (s1, ep3); i thought it'd be fitting for gideon to call in trusted help on a case that is so personal to him.

please don't forget to comment and follow - any 'UpdAte!1' comments will lead to being muted and updates will only come if people interact!