Chapter Text
It wasn’t like Cassie didn’t trust David Rossi, one of her beloved mentors over the past eight years. It wasn’t like that at all; she’d just had a bad feeling. Thought it’d be best to play it safe and, just in case it wasn’t the overtly-Italian man who showed up, to check the CCTV cams via the speakeasy’s digitized cash register. Her instinct was right, as usual, but she wished it wasn’t, since the man standing where Rossi should be looked a lot like the man who’d followed her the previous night.
Her finger sat a little too naturally on the trigger of her gun, but the man simply raised his hands slowly, away from the pistol in its holster on his belt. “My name is Doctor Spencer Reid,” he murmured, his voice a soothing cadence, meant to lure her to a false sense of safety, “I work with SSA Rossi.”
Eh. Cassie’d never heard the name, and didn’t want to leave anything to chance, so she kept her gun trained on his head. It was an effort, though, with him being much taller than her. “What’s the color of the day?”
“Silver. David is securing the perimeter. I assure you, you’re safe.” Which is what an experienced, and knowledgeable, stalker might say. She needed to ask something that only someone truly associated with her mentor would know the answer to.
“How many wives did he have?”
“Three,” said the man without hesitation. At that precise moment, the speakeasy’s hidden door swung open once more, admitting David Rossi himself, his eyes wide.
“Kiddo,” the older agent all but exclaimed, “Why do you have my coworker at gunpoint?”
“Maybe because,” Cassie started, holstering her gun, “I didn’t know that he was your coworker? Besides, I knew he was legitimate.” She offered him a small grin as she fixed the wrinkles in her dress. “He knew how many ex-wives you have.” When Rossi crossed his arms silently, she knew she should prepare for a scolding. “Sarge only mentioned you. Did you tell her you’d be sending someone else?”
His brow creased. “Yes,” he huffed, “Heather’s better than that. Should’ve told you… ah, never mind.” Cassie hated it when someone hit her with those ill-fated words: never mind. Instead of continuing, though, Rossi gestured to the man, who held something akin to an awkward charm that Cassie was immediately drawn to. “I imagine you two have met.” Jarringly, the pieces clicked into place: on a phone call they’d had prior to her time undercover, Rossi had described a few members of his team, including an agent a few years older than her. He’d said the agent- also a doctor- made “computers obsolete” and that she’d “love him”.
Cassie held out a hand to the cute guy she’d nearly shot. “I think we got off on the wrong foot there. Detective Cassandra Miyami, Honolulu SVU. Sorry for… that.”
The man brushed a strand of hair away from his face and offered a small wave in response. “Doctor Spencer Reid. Again.” And a germaphobe, Cassie observed. Hilarious. Endearing. She lowered her hand and turned her attention back to Rossi, who had his focus on the extensive liquor selection.
“Tell me you have a back exit in this place.”
“We do. Did you guys park in the structure?” Again, Rossi huffed.
“After fifteen minutes of struggle. Driving here is ridiculous.” Cassie missed her mentor’s candor, and him in general, but would never voice it for fear of inflating his ego. So instead of doing so, she reached over the counter and grabbed her go-bag, before heading towards a door indicated with a neon-red Exit sign above it. She paused, though, directing a pointed look over her shoulder.
“Our technical analyst’s already shut down the camera feed and turned off the emergency alarm,” Doctor Reid reassured, “Nothing should happen when you open that door.”
Cassie found his word choice funny. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as the two men drew their guns. “Going in three, two…” The door swung out silently, with no blaring sirens or scary men there to greet them. “That was anticlimactic.”
Rossi scoffed as he strolled past her, hand still on his holster. “I thought you’d appreciate some calm after the night you had.” He grabbed his keys from his pocket, gesturing at Cassie and Doctor Reid with an impatient motion. “Come on, kids. I’ll drive.”
For the first few minutes of the car ride, the trio remained silent, the only noise being the quiet hum of the news station on the radio and Doctor Reid drumming his fingers on the backseat. Cassie had taken shotgun. Then, from the corner of her eye, she spotted Rossi glancing at her. “What?”
“Can an old man not be glad to see his mentee?”
Cassie silently vowed never to forget this moment: not once has David Rossi ever called himself old. “I missed you too, old man.” He squinted, but since he was already facing the road, it could’ve been the city lights were just too bright. “I’m serious. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
He sighed, shook his head. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that in years.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I see you haven’t changed.”
“Again, I say: you’re welcome.”
Rossi didn’t skip a beat. “You didn’t get to talk to others much, huh?”
Cassie found that even though Rossi was right, she didn’t have to like or appreciate that he was. “I didn’t want to risk it. The evidence I found is damning, so once I’m safely home and send it over to Manhattan SVU, SHOCK is done for.” That was precisely the reason she’d never gotten close to anyone: if she had gotten involved with any of her coworkers, friendly or not, it was far too easy for the case to become personal.
They pulled up to a red, and Rossi scratched his nose. “It’s not safe for you to go home right now, Cassie.”
“Like hell it isn’t.” The retort snapped out of her before she could stop it, which she would later admit (to herself) was very unprofessional, especially in front of a cute doctor. But hey, she’d already held him at gunpoint, so she didn’t see how it could get worse from there. “Which crime syndicate is gonna follow a single civilian on a fucking airplane halfway across the country?”
“The shootings aren’t related,” Doctor Reid interrupted from the backseat. Rossi glared at him in the rearview. “In fact, they appear to be completely random with no ties to organized crime.”
Cassie clapped her hands together. “Great. That means once I see Hotch, I’m on the next flight out.”
“And put your unit in danger?” Rossi argued.
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I lost my tail last night in a matter of minutes. Even if they were going to try and find me, I doubt they could.”
“But you still had one.”
“We, ah, also need you to do a cognitive interview,” Reid added, not doing much to curb Cassie’s growing irritation. “You may have observed something important to the case.”
“And then I can go home?”
Rossi pulled into the parking structure of the New York field office. “I can’t make any promises, Cassie.”
Cassie met BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner when he and Rossi had been called to Honolulu by none other than her grandfather. He’d needed help on a case, and decided to take them out to dinner once it was closed. Funnily enough, that dinner had been Sunday family dinner, so to her non-detective parents’ utter surprise, two FBI agents showed up to their front door.
That night was one of the watershed moments that inspired her to become a detective. They’d told her as much as they could about their cases, and Cassie’s eyes had grown wider and wider as she’d listened and absorbed everything like a sponge.
Somehow, Hotch looked ten times more tired than he did back then. “Cassie.” The frown lines in his face disappeared as he stood from the conference table they were set up at. “It’s good to see you.”
Besides her other mentor, three unfamiliar agents sat at the table. Each of them stood when she entered, too. “You as well, Hotch.” They shook hands, and he patted her shoulder as if verifying that she was really there. “Gave you a scare, didn’t I?”
“It’s not funny,” Rossi retorted under his breath.
Hotch only chuckled. “Detective Cassandra Miyami, this is the rest of the BAU, SSA Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and our communications liaison Jennifer Jareau, JJ.”
If Cassie had thought Doctor Reid was cute, that must have been the common denominator for the whole team. She shook each of their hands, trying to note at least one observation on each agent: Morgan seemed distracted, continuously casting glances at FBI Agent Kate Joyner’s office. Maybe there was history there, she wasn’t sure.
Prentiss seemed friendly, but her inquisitive gaze unnerved Cassie, reminding her that she was the newcomer. She had no doubt she was getting profiled.
Then, there was Jareau- JJ- who for all intents and purposes appeared the most unperturbed, relaxed. Cassie found that hard to believe, for someone who fielded the sort of cases that the team handled.
“Reid,” Hotch called, drawing the doctor’s attention from where it had been focused onto a map of the city. “Come back to that once you’ve done the cognitive. You can use the side room across the way.”
Of course, Cassie thought, the cute guy would be the one guiding her through this procedure.
“Alright.” Reid set down the marker he was holding and led the way out. “You’ve conducted a cognitive interview before, right?”
“Been a while, but, yes.” A sudden, desperate urge to prove herself overcame Cassie. “I was more involved in the liaising side, talking to the next of kin, crisis negotiation… that sort of thing.”
He nodded and pulled up a chair, sitting with a perfect posture as she settled into the couch across from him. “That’s not an easy job.”
“Neither is what you all do, either.”
Cassie hoped that his intelligent eyes didn’t note the way she blushed as he tilted his head. “I’m going to start the exam.” She knew what to do, and so she took a deep breath, and shut her eyes.