I do not own BTVS or CM
I know what you are, Miss Edith says. Miss Edith says you're not real.
Morgan stood at the terminal, in IAD, that the translator was due to be arriving at. Dr. Dawn Summers had multiple PhDs in ancient languages and mythology. She had also been referred to them by a international law firm, in Morgan's book that never was a positive. She had the clearance and had worked with local police in a number of small town cases. She had also been called to help NCIS, who had given her rave reviews, and the FBI working with a forensic anthropologist.
Garcia had yesterday off and had yet to come in today so an extensive background had yet to be run on her. It worried Morgan, the safety of his team was one of the thing he was not willing to compromise, and bringing in an unknown was warranted as a bad idea.
He was surprised when some college girl that had just got off the plane came and stood next to him. Her low hanging jeans and tee shirt that proudly declared she was sorted into Slytherin was perfect for travel. If a little juvenile. He could see a heavy leather jacket hanging on her arm so a least she had some common sense, many of the patrons coming from the non-stop flight from LAX were wearing clothing more suitable for an LA winter not a DC.
“Could you be any more Macho-Copo?” The girl asked, flinging her brightly colored hair over her shoulders.
Morgan was amazed and a little put off when she spoke to him, “I get the whole cry for attention, but do you really want to go looking for a cop to tease?” He asked her.
Something passed over her face before she shrugged and told him, “Okay, well... I'll be over there,” She said pointing to a group of chairs off to the side of the crowded terminal. She rolled her pink and black carry-on over to where she pointed and sat down. She started humming, bouncing her Doc covered foot to her made up rhythm all while staring at him.
Morgan tried to ignore the girl while watching the passengers exit. While he did not know what Dr. Summers looked like, due to the absence of Garcia, his description had been given to the doctor, which is why he was confused when the attendant had signaled that the plane had cleared.
He eyes swept the room, before coming back to the young woman from earlier. He narrowed his dark eyes as she gave him a huge grin.
“Expecting a old British woman in tweed?” She cried across the room. “That would be Giles, minus the woman part.”
He fought to keep the surprise off his face but knew he had failed, embarrassing himself. He walked over to who he now guessed was Dr. Summer. “You could have told me when you came out.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn't have gotten to see your face when you realized the girl you brushed off as a teenage delinquent is your translator.” She held her hand out. “Dawn Summers.”
He looked down at her hand and saw that her wrist was covered in those little plastic bracelet things. Of course, he thought “Agent Derek Morgan.” He said taking her hand.
She smiled at him as she let go. “Big, bald black guy, I was expecting you to be more Gunn-y.” When she saw the lost look he gave her she explained, “Charles Gunn, a Lawyer at the LA branch. But you look more Wood-y. My ex-high school principal.” Blushing, she continued, “None of what I said was meant to be taken in any phallic way...” She gave a sour expression. “Shutting up the diarrhea of the mouth now.”
As they entered the dark SUV Morgan's phone rang, “Hello, Sugar.” Morgan answers causing Dawn to raise her brow as she settled into the seat.
“Oh, my chocolatey sexy man, you will not believe who Dr Summers is. First of all she is only twenty years old, and even though she can not legally buy an apple-tini, she has three PhDs. She's like ubber smart. And drop dead gorgeous too, like model potential here.” Derek keep the phone close to his ear so the young doctor didn't overhear. Not that it mattered anyways, she was distracted by something she was writing in a Hello Kitty notebook.
“Yeah, I know. Found her already.”
“And I am so sad that I did not get to see the look on your, oh, so masculine face when you saw all her not so long out of teenage glory,” Garcia said with a sigh.
“Small favors, Garcia.”
“Well, for the most part Dr Summers seems to be the up and up, minus a little teenage rough patch at fifteen and a couple of odd hospital visits.”
“Thanks, Sexy.” He told her but rolled his eyes.
“Always, Garcia out.”
Once they arrived at Quantico Morgan decided it would be best to clear the air. He looked at Dr Summers. “I really shouldn't have been so rude.”
“I get it a lot, I am a little shy of stuffy.” She said shrugging as they navigated through traffic.
“Really, I should have know better, see we have a doctor on our team who's only 29. Reid is a genius... well, I guess you are too, aren't you?” Morgan told her pulling into the parking lot.
Dawn shook her head, “I never thought of myself like that, more like I am just really good at languages, and well, mythology just goes along with that.”
“Never meet a genius with self-worth problems before.” Morgan muttered as he got out of the car, luckily Dawn didn't hear him.
Dawn wanted to like Agent Morgan, he seem like a nice guy when he was on the phone with his girlfriend, but he was clear that he didn't trust her. She couldn't blame him, but it still caused a little annoyance on her part.
Really the office wasn't too bad for the whole government building thing. She saw no reason to hide her smile as Agent Morgan stopped at what he told her was his team. They were all siting at a round table facing a large TV screen. It was clear that Dawn was going to be briefed on the case, and she was instantly overjoyed. Many cops just gave her whatever they wanted translated, treating her a second class... something. It really helped in the translation, and the motivation on her part, if she knew the case. Plus she had heard stories of Spike's younger days so she could easily spot copying or just coincidence.
“Dawn.” She told Morgan as he started to introduction. “If you call me Dr Summers I tend not to answer.”
“Dawn,” He pointed to a man the seem to be a darker, taller, more American version of Wes back in the day, “Agent Aaron Hotchner,” The man stood up and shook her hand.
“Emily Prentiss,” The dark haired woman with eyes that reminded her of Willow, they way they were open to the world as if to take everything in, shook her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Dawn.” Prentiss told her as she let go.
“Agent David Rossi,” This was the man with facial hair that had a tortured aura about him, also Giles had been reading his book when she had left for LA.
“A friend of mine, Giles, loves your books Agent Rossi.” She told him.
“But not you?” He asked her.
“Not my cup of tea.” She told him still smiling as he shook her hand.
“Dr Spencer Reid,” The young man looked at her for just a second before looking away giving a shy wave. Dawn felt a little disappointed, the man was a genius and very cute in a geeky, young Giles kind of way.
“And Jennifer Jareau.”
The woman gave a warm smile, “Call me JJ, thanks for coming Dr... ah, Dawn.”
“Really no problem, I was already in the states.” She told her.
“Oh, where were you before?” JJ asked as they all took a seat.
“England, I help at a school for gifted girls.”
“Most gifted students actually attend public school, private schools don't actually-”
“Physically gifted Dr Reid.” She told him, “Our girls excel in sports, martial arts, dance; that sort of thing.”
Reid's eyes widened at being corrected before looking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”
“Right, Hotch, why don't you start.” Morgan said turning to the dignified, slightly older man.
Hotch pressed a button turning the TV on. Four photo's came up, they were crime scene photo's and probably the most gruesome of the bunch. “Each victim had been nailed down to a wooden chair with railroad spikes. Then they where tortured with a dull pointed object,” He zoomed into to show the gashes across a man's chest.
“More railroad spikes?” Dawn asked, trying to get a better look at what was behind the man.
“Most likely.” Prentiss put in.
“What is behind him?” Dawn finally asked when she realized she wasn't going to be able to get a good view from the picture.
“All the victims where avid collectors of ancient art.” Reid told her.
She turned towards him having a feeling she could get the answer easily from him, rather than playing round robin with everyone else. “Anything out of place?”
“Each scene had something removed from the collection and placed with the victim..” He told her, this time looking into her eyes.
She quickly ignored the butterflies in her stomach as she looked back in into his brown eyes, “What I was brought here to translate. So you guys think that whatever he left in these bodies are a clue to who he is.”
Reid shook his head, “Not who he is, but his motive. That will allow us to give a complete profile.”
“I might need to go to the crime scenes.” She saw everyone's eyes widen. “Look, none of you are historians. And as smart as you are Dr Reid, you may have missed something very important. Maybe just as important as the trinkets left on...” She pointed at the screen, “Those guys.”
“We'll have to put in a request, but all the houses are still under FBI control, so it may be doable.” Hotch told her and for a second she had the impression that maybe he was actually in charge, not Agent Morgan.
Reid watched as Dr Summers spread a number of pads of papers, different color pens and highlighters, and a number of old books that looked like they should be in a restricted section of some library on Morgan's old desk. She was a oddity, her intelligence was unquestionable, but speech patterns off putting and certainty at odds with her capabilities.
She smiled at him when she turned and caught him staring at her. She rolled her chair, much like a child would and stopped next to his desk. “I wasn't calling you dumb.”
The comment confused him and he was unsure what to say in response.
“Back in the room thingy.” She waved her hand in the general direction of the room they had exited, “I was just saying that I can help out more that just translating what you had on hand. Sometimes people seem to think that just because I'm a language whore, that is all I can do. I'm also great at history, and can swing a pretty good short sword.”
Reid had been lost, staring at the interesting almost angelic shape of her face only to be pulled out at her last words, “Short sword?”
“School for the gifted, Dr Reid.” Her smile had him running his hand through his hair. He knew he was attracted to her, she was beautiful. Plus she was on the same plane of intelligence as him, even though she was rather eccentric. But it was not a smart path for either of them to take.
“You can call me Reid, or Spencer if you want.”
She laughed, “Well Spencer, how would you like to be Santa's helper today? Unless you're busy with your bouncy ball, worm thing.” Pointing to the purple toy on his desk.
“Oh, that was given to me by Garcia, you see, she has a need to be entertained at all times, which is why she was caught hacking into the FBI data base.”
“So... is that a yes?” She asked grabbing the toy off the desk, passing it back and forth between her hands.
“Yes.” He told her, “What do you need?”
She gave him a wicked smile and for a second he thought maybe he made the wrong choice. “Here is the outside of the scroll from the last crime scene, it is Middle-Persian.” He looked down at the photo copy as she took a highlighter out and highlighted a few part of the script, “However due to the mix of cultures at the time I need you to find the right dialect,”
She put one of the old books on the Reid's desk. “This is your book,” She told him, “There are many tomes like it, but this one's your own.”
He saw how her eyes light up when she laughed and couldn't help but join in.
It didn't last long as Morgan came in, “We have another body. Dawn you have authorization to join us, but you may want to stay behind.”
She crossed her arm, staring at him, “Why?”
His eyes both softened and looked pained, “The victim is a child this time.”
Dawn look around the living room, the young girl had been killed in her bedroom and Dawn just didn't have the nerve to go see a tortured and mutilated girl. There was one thing she learned from this victim, if it was a Spike copy-cat he didn't know him enough to be aware of the fact Spike didn't kill little girls. Teenage and older sure, but young girl always reminded him of Dru.
This house seemed to have a much more modern theme, and all the furniture seemed to be from Denmark. She knew it there was something in this house that made the freak target a little girl, but nothing in this room told her what that could be.
There really was not much for her to do here, but as she turned she noticed the DVD player was on. Dawn looked around until she found a remote, turning the TV on she saw what had been playing. As the menu for the movie 'Little Vampire' plays she finds it hard to come up with a reasonable explanation.
Reid came and stood by her as she shut-off the TV. “Her family was killed too, but not in the same way. They were shot in the head, they died in the room with the victim, but was drug out later.” He placed his hands in his pockets. “It is really bad in there and this is what he left. So you don't have to go in there if you don't want to”
She looked at the book he put in her hands and her heart dropped it, “Dracula,”
“First edition. Very, very rare. This copy had been in the family for a while.”
She knew now, “I need to see.”
She looked at him and could see he wanted to protest. She thought it was sweet that he wanted to protect her from what will probably be the worst thing she has ever seen in her life.
As Dawn walked down the hallway she could see people removing bullet slugs from the walls.
The first thing she noticed when she stood in the doorway was the smell. Dawn had never smelled a dead human before, demons, vampires, even animals sure, but not humans. It was kind of metallic, hidden behind the smell of decay. Not full out rotten, but like a raw a steak that was forgotten from the night before. It made her not want to go any farther but she couldn't stand in the doorway smelling the smell of dead girl much longer.
As she stepped into the room she keep her eyes on Hotch, he seemed to be having the most human reaction to the scene. She could even see some masked pain in his eyes. He has children, she thought, that had to be the reason for his reaction.
She turned and looked at the victim, almost immediately she closed her eyes and whispered, “Goddess.”
But the image was behind her eyes too and she knew there was no escaping it. She opened her eyes. The girl was five or six, her hair looked like it was dark but it could have been from the amount of blood caked on the curly mass. The girl didn't have any clothes on but her Mary Janes, both were bloody messes from having railroad spikes driven through them holding her legs open. The girl's thighs were bruised and she couldn't, wouldn't, think about what that meant. Nor the blood that had settled from between her legs.
But what really bore into Dawn's mind was the two black holes where the poor girl's eyes should have been. Blood had ran down her face giving the appearance of crying blood. Half way down the girl's chest Dawn could see the mangled mess of what would have been a set of pale blue eyes.
She moved quickly and made it down the hall before she started to throw up. She felt someone behind her and looked to see Rossi standing with a bottle of water. She downed half the bottle before standing up, which brought her face to face with a picture of the victim. A picture that declared the girls name proudly.
I used a play on the first line of the Rifleman's Creed in this story- 'This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine.' For anyone who thought the line sounded odd. :)
So the quotes at the top are made up by me, just so you know. I hope it came out okay. I know it is a little gory but Spike was a pretty horrible Vampire and I am just trying to live up to that. (In writing, of course)
I was thinking of adding a Willow/Garcia paring but I have never done girl-mance before. Well, I hope I didn't scare any of you off.