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fandomweekly2021-08-30 05:25 pm
arknes) wrote in fandomweekly2021-08-30 05:25 pm
Entry tags:
[#106] Playing to Win (Criminal Minds)
Theme Prompt: #106 - Competition
Title: Playing to Win
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating/Warnings: Teen, but mostly because mentions of vague murder details.
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 994 words
Summary: Elle and Morgan enter a competition against each other. Of course, the team takes their bets.
"Bet I'll solve this case before your sorry butt," Morgan teases.
Elle's eyes narrow, her lips drawing into a smirk. The moment she heard those words, her attention was all his.
"Really?" She teases, pointing a slender, golden-ring-decorated finger at his chest. "You, Derek, beat me?"
She pauses, flipping her hair dramatically. Derek narrows his eyes, teasing turned into an exciting prospect.
"Highest cases in Seattle three years running?" She finishes, grinning harder.
"Yeah," He nudges her in the side, his own smile transforming into a competition-loving, hungry smirk. Sure, he wanted to solve the case like he does every case, and he gives his all to each endeavor, but this? Yeah, this is something worth toiling over.
He pushes her lightly, getting a rougher push back.
"You're on."
—
"So you're competing with Elle." Reid states, brows raised as if to say 'really, my dude?' despite the fact that the brilliant Doctor Reid would never say my dude. "in a competition of pace."
"Yes," Morgan sips at his coffee, quirking a brow in return.
If he wasn't good at solving cases, there's no way he'd be in the BAU. But is he Elle-fast? Reid grins.
"You do know she had the highest number of solved cases in Seattle for three years—?"
"Yeah, pretty boy," Morgan interrupted, rolling his eyes playfully, "I knowww."
—
So, they don't really win anything by competing; it's not like they're losing anything either. Elle beat him to the crime scene, he beat her to the coffee, six cup balanced in his strong fingers, and she figured out the first piece of the puzzle on their sixth hour in the small town of Mustang, Oklahoma, a mixed-collar community a little ways from Oklahoma City.
Morgan totally got her on the second clue, the seventh hour in and the second body in two weeks. They still have a week until the next body shows up.
Then she got him on the third. She asked to see the alarm systems up close when they ran through the fibers, the emotionless, psychopathic rage of a crime scene, and the rest of the evidence they have. They thought it was a typical alarm, but apparently not.
The male perpetrator, an anger excitation rapist, is most likely familiar with technology if he disables their alarm system, and the local company has completely unique alarms, so then— "Someone there has to be it."
—
He's heard about their little competition, and if it gets them to work harder on the field, Hotch doesn't mind. As long as they don't overwork themselves, it's none of his business how they behave, so long as they don't treat the crime scenes with blatant or absolute disrespect. Luckily, Hotch doesn't have to deal with anything besides tapping Morgan on the shoulder to stop him from trying to 'hit at' a voluptuous lady.
Still, Hotch is obligated to comment, so he cuts to the chase.
"You're in a competition with Morgan," He says when he's alone with the newest member of the BAU.
Elle raises her head from the paper. Then, she tilts her head.
"You know?" She asks. "Is it not—"
"It's fine." Hotch says, then takes a step closer. "Good luck."
"Oh," She stares, then smiles. "Thanks, Hotch."
"Good luck." Another voice echoes, and the two stare up at the new voice.
"Gideon." They both echo at the same time.
"Morgan's good. Competent, knows the key componets of this case well—" Gideon spreads his hands in a shrug, "I wouldn't take my chances on this one."
Elle chuckles as Hotch hides his own smile behind a hand.
"Wow, thanks."
—
"I think she knew the UnSub." Elle groans, cupping a hand to her throbbing head. "That level of violence and rage is consistent with familiarity."
"But both Garcia and the police ran backgrounds checks, trying any connection. Nobody fits the profile." Morgan retorts, rubbing at his own shoulder. "Honestly, I think it was a stranger. It was brutal, and this city isn't bite-sized."
"But the population is twenty-thousand with all high-class, low-risk victims." Elle shoots back.
They're squabbling, bantering, trading theories and trying to dissect every little detail on two hours of sleep and a coffee. Good entertainment, really. Hotch dissects their theories in his head. Frankly, he wants to see Haley and sleep in her arms, touching the swell of her belly and relaxing in their sunshine-lit home without work disturbing him.
"You don't see it?" Gideon smiles, thin lips dragging into an amused, yet restrained smile.
Hotch furrows his brow, eyes flickering between his two employees at the coffee table, glaring at each other with half-hearted anger and whole-hearted fire. The way Elle's relaxed herself, shoulders loosened, unguarded coupled with the way Morgan's leaning forward, body held in a protective manner, angled towards the rest of the room, yet exposing his most vulnerable side to her— there's a moratorium on inter-team profiling, but Aaron doesn't need to profile know he's intentionally denied the spark between his employees.
"No, Jason," He sighs, "I see it."
The older man cracks a laugh, voice sharper.
"What do you think of it?"
Hotch shrugs. He'd rather turn a blind eye, anyway. He's always known there's something.
"Not much." He turns away from them, giving full attention to his friend. "I wonder which of them will realize first."
"—Are you guys betting on them?" Reid interrupts, startling both men.
"Reid." Hotch takes a step back, inhaling slightly.
"If so, I'm betting on Elle, obviously. For the date. The case, too." Reid scans their faces, seeing them take to the idea. "I'll bet one hundred and breakfast for a month?"
Hotch's brows raise, but Gideon beats him to the punch.
"Morgan." He wipes a thumb at the end of his mouth, "A month of lunch anywhere." then, Gideon turns around, raising a hand to wave goodbye, "I bet to win, Reid."
Reid smirks back.
"And you're betting with me. I'm from Vegas."
Title: Playing to Win
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating/Warnings: Teen, but mostly because mentions of vague murder details.
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 994 words
Summary: Elle and Morgan enter a competition against each other. Of course, the team takes their bets.
"Bet I'll solve this case before your sorry butt," Morgan teases.
Elle's eyes narrow, her lips drawing into a smirk. The moment she heard those words, her attention was all his.
"Really?" She teases, pointing a slender, golden-ring-decorated finger at his chest. "You, Derek, beat me?"
She pauses, flipping her hair dramatically. Derek narrows his eyes, teasing turned into an exciting prospect.
"Highest cases in Seattle three years running?" She finishes, grinning harder.
"Yeah," He nudges her in the side, his own smile transforming into a competition-loving, hungry smirk. Sure, he wanted to solve the case like he does every case, and he gives his all to each endeavor, but this? Yeah, this is something worth toiling over.
He pushes her lightly, getting a rougher push back.
"You're on."
—
"So you're competing with Elle." Reid states, brows raised as if to say 'really, my dude?' despite the fact that the brilliant Doctor Reid would never say my dude. "in a competition of pace."
"Yes," Morgan sips at his coffee, quirking a brow in return.
If he wasn't good at solving cases, there's no way he'd be in the BAU. But is he Elle-fast? Reid grins.
"You do know she had the highest number of solved cases in Seattle for three years—?"
"Yeah, pretty boy," Morgan interrupted, rolling his eyes playfully, "I knowww."
—
So, they don't really win anything by competing; it's not like they're losing anything either. Elle beat him to the crime scene, he beat her to the coffee, six cup balanced in his strong fingers, and she figured out the first piece of the puzzle on their sixth hour in the small town of Mustang, Oklahoma, a mixed-collar community a little ways from Oklahoma City.
Morgan totally got her on the second clue, the seventh hour in and the second body in two weeks. They still have a week until the next body shows up.
Then she got him on the third. She asked to see the alarm systems up close when they ran through the fibers, the emotionless, psychopathic rage of a crime scene, and the rest of the evidence they have. They thought it was a typical alarm, but apparently not.
The male perpetrator, an anger excitation rapist, is most likely familiar with technology if he disables their alarm system, and the local company has completely unique alarms, so then— "Someone there has to be it."
—
He's heard about their little competition, and if it gets them to work harder on the field, Hotch doesn't mind. As long as they don't overwork themselves, it's none of his business how they behave, so long as they don't treat the crime scenes with blatant or absolute disrespect. Luckily, Hotch doesn't have to deal with anything besides tapping Morgan on the shoulder to stop him from trying to 'hit at' a voluptuous lady.
Still, Hotch is obligated to comment, so he cuts to the chase.
"You're in a competition with Morgan," He says when he's alone with the newest member of the BAU.
Elle raises her head from the paper. Then, she tilts her head.
"You know?" She asks. "Is it not—"
"It's fine." Hotch says, then takes a step closer. "Good luck."
"Oh," She stares, then smiles. "Thanks, Hotch."
"Good luck." Another voice echoes, and the two stare up at the new voice.
"Gideon." They both echo at the same time.
"Morgan's good. Competent, knows the key componets of this case well—" Gideon spreads his hands in a shrug, "I wouldn't take my chances on this one."
Elle chuckles as Hotch hides his own smile behind a hand.
"Wow, thanks."
—
"I think she knew the UnSub." Elle groans, cupping a hand to her throbbing head. "That level of violence and rage is consistent with familiarity."
"But both Garcia and the police ran backgrounds checks, trying any connection. Nobody fits the profile." Morgan retorts, rubbing at his own shoulder. "Honestly, I think it was a stranger. It was brutal, and this city isn't bite-sized."
"But the population is twenty-thousand with all high-class, low-risk victims." Elle shoots back.
They're squabbling, bantering, trading theories and trying to dissect every little detail on two hours of sleep and a coffee. Good entertainment, really. Hotch dissects their theories in his head. Frankly, he wants to see Haley and sleep in her arms, touching the swell of her belly and relaxing in their sunshine-lit home without work disturbing him.
"You don't see it?" Gideon smiles, thin lips dragging into an amused, yet restrained smile.
Hotch furrows his brow, eyes flickering between his two employees at the coffee table, glaring at each other with half-hearted anger and whole-hearted fire. The way Elle's relaxed herself, shoulders loosened, unguarded coupled with the way Morgan's leaning forward, body held in a protective manner, angled towards the rest of the room, yet exposing his most vulnerable side to her— there's a moratorium on inter-team profiling, but Aaron doesn't need to profile know he's intentionally denied the spark between his employees.
"No, Jason," He sighs, "I see it."
The older man cracks a laugh, voice sharper.
"What do you think of it?"
Hotch shrugs. He'd rather turn a blind eye, anyway. He's always known there's something.
"Not much." He turns away from them, giving full attention to his friend. "I wonder which of them will realize first."
"—Are you guys betting on them?" Reid interrupts, startling both men.
"Reid." Hotch takes a step back, inhaling slightly.
"If so, I'm betting on Elle, obviously. For the date. The case, too." Reid scans their faces, seeing them take to the idea. "I'll bet one hundred and breakfast for a month?"
Hotch's brows raise, but Gideon beats him to the punch.
"Morgan." He wipes a thumb at the end of his mouth, "A month of lunch anywhere." then, Gideon turns around, raising a hand to wave goodbye, "I bet to win, Reid."
Reid smirks back.
"And you're betting with me. I'm from Vegas."
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Great fic!
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