Disclaimer/Spoilers: See the first chapter.
And now the conclusion...
The team went home the next day when, sure to the young woman's’s announcement, no girls were slaughtered. Of course it was not their idea to do so. They wanted to stay and figure out what had happened. But the sheriff had received a similar visit and insisted the case was closed and they were no longer needed. In the interest of future cooperation, they had reluctantly packed up.
On the plane back to Quantico, Hotch pulled Emily aside.
“Why did that girl look at you when she said it was always about blood?”
“She didn’t look at me any more than she looked any one else.”
“But when she looked at you, she thought you should know what she was talking about. Something you need to tell us?”
“Not sure why she thought that, sir.”
Hotch dropped the subject, but Emily was quiet for the rest of the ride home, wondering just what questions would get the answers she needed out of her mother.
The rest of the team spent the ride home trying to figure out their visitor.
JJ was the first to ask what the rest were thinking. “Did you hear what she said about her being sacrificed?”
“Her attitude as so cavalier, like it was expected.” Derek frowned. "Something you would expect from someone who had either been part of or survived something similar."
Rossi nodded. “She referred to the unsub as ‘it.’ Dehumanizing it as much as possible.”
Reid, as always, was lost in thought as he commented. “She would prove an interesting profile. Not that I want to run into her in that sort of situation because that would mean…”
“Does our genius have a crush?” Derek teased, starting the familiar bantering that distracted the team from their job.
“I’m baaaaack!” Dawn hollered out as she swung open the door to the Cleveland House, US Headquarters of Slayers International.
“D, in the kitchen,” came a response.
Dawn threw her overnight duffel on the couch and went straight to the kitchen. Faith was sitting on the counter, munching on an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie.
“How’d it go?”
Dawn snagged a cookie of her own from the Article 50 jar. “Sheriff was cool. No biggie. Got the feeling he already knew something ‘bout ‘our world.’ Asked if I knew ‘the brothers.’”
“You know, that is the third time I’ve heard of them. Vi went to go take care of that town tree demon and they had been there. If they ever try takin’ one a’ my kills, I gonna get seriously pissed.”
“From what the sheriff wouldn’t say, they are all with the shadowy and the ghosty. Sound like a couple of amateurs burdened with an overabundance of luck from the PTB who are gonna get themselves killed.”
“Yeah, one of these days I'll probably have to save their sorry asses. What about the Feds? How'd they take little ole you kickin’ them off their case?”
“Let’s just say, next time, Andrew gets to talk to the Feds about virgins, ‘cause I am so not doing that one again.”
A door slammed from somewhere inside the house. “Dawnie!”
Buffy came bursting into the kitchen, phone in hand. Very slowly and forcibly calm, she spoke, “Dawn, the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation is on the line.”
“It’s not my fault. They were talking about virgins and blood; not that that was a wiggy factor, I mean I’ve seen enough blood to give transfusions to half of China and I’ve been the virgin sacrifice. But these guys were all with the shrinking, like they knew what the demon thinking; it was creepy. So I went in, said hello; and then this cute, well, not drop dead gorgeous like Angel, but cute in an academic sort of way, you know with the vest and the tie and the hair that really needs a cut. Well, he started talking about virgin blood and male virgins and the differences from female virgins, and I just couldn’t take it any more. I had this whole speech planned; it was all professional and everything; I was even going to use cop words, like 'jurisdiction', but cute Fed guy, talking and talking, virgins, and did I mention he was cute?”
“Dawn. What. Did. You. Do?”
“You did WHAT?”
“I told them all the virgins could stop trying to get laid.”
The kitchen exploded with two cackles—one outraged, the other triumphant.
“Way to go, little D!”
Sorry for the delay. All you wonderful reviews got my muse to thinking and it took a bit for it to come out. Hope you liked it. That is all she wrote.