sorry about the lack of updates the last couple of days, but rl has decided to bite me in the form of my mom's cancer needing more radiation and a new semester looming on the horizon. I hope that this makes up a little for not updating sooner, and I'm already hard at work on the next chapter. Disclaimer:
They don't belong to me, and for that I'm glad. If they did, I'd procrastinate of every episode and we would never have fallen in love with any of these characters. Dynamics of Dominance
The four new arrivals crowded the doorway, looking at each other and JJ in an obvious sign of apprehension (on the Guardian and Protectors part) and confusion and surprise (on Hotch’s and Reid’s). Taking control of the situation as if she were in a room full of bloodthirsty reporters on a strict deadline, JJ broke the unwanted staring contest.
“Hello. My name is Jennifer Jareau. You must be the representatives from Guardians and Protectors; sorry for not saying the name properly, but my accent is horrible and I don’t wish to insult the language. Please sit, the two men behind you are Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, and Dr. Spencer Reid of the F.B.I.’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. They are here at my request. I’m sorry, but the brief didn’t include your names or positions.” JJ walked forward and saw that while the man had the air of power and authority, his body movements differed to the young woman in front of him. The smaller woman moved subtlety to position herself in front of the man, and the man responded in kind, turning so that while the younger blonde was focused squarely on JJ, the two F.B.I. agents were now in her periphery and the sole focus of the older gentleman.
Honestly expecting the man to speak and handle the introductions, JJ, Hotch, and Reid were surprised when the young woman spoke and that she spoke in an American accent. “Hi, sorry about the lack of info, but to be honest, no one besides Giles wanted to come meet you guys, and lucky me, I pulled the short straw. I’m Buffy Summers.” Pointing her thumb over her shoulder the young blonde now identified as Buffy continued. “That’s Rupert Giles, but just call him Giles, cause if I ever hear another woman call him Rupert, or Rupes, or even Ripper, I’m gonna need bleach for my brain and a hypnotherapist to repress the memories of-”
“YES! Thank you Buffy, please, say no more." The man interrupted the young woman’s introduction with a noticeable squeak to his cultured English accent and a blush rising in his cheeks. “Yes, well, as Buffy was saying, call me Giles. As to our positions, I suppose you could call us co-presidents. We share control of the Guardiöes e Protectores as a whole, but Buffy has total control of the field agents while I am in charge of the…researchers.”
Reid and Hotch both perked up at the slight pause before Giles said "researchers", and looked at each other before focusing once more on the conversation that was taking place between Giles and JJ.
"-be here." Giles finished as Buffy turned her attention to the two F.B.I. Agents behind her. The gaze that she leveled on Reid was one of the most confusing that the young man had ever felt upon him. While working with the B.A.U., Reid was always aware that, while he was second to almost none when it came to academic prowess, he would never be considered a valid or serious physical threat by anyone. When he compared himself to Morgan, Hotch, or even Rossi, Reid knew that others always saw him as the clichéd geek-beanpole that needed to be protected from the bullies of the world. However, the gaze that Buffy Summers laid on him wasn’t one of an individual seeming someone that presented no threat, but one of wary acknowledgement and respect. It was something that Reid always saw directed at the older male profilers by other cops and even certain unsubs. He had never been honored with that sort of look, and Reid was unsure if he wanted to be thankful for Buffy giving it to him or terrified. Undecided on what a proper response to that look would be, Reid just stayed silent and watched as Buffy turned perceptive eyes on his team leader.
Aaron Hotchner observed Miss Summers visual assessment of Reid and made some of his own. The woman moved like a soldier, but more. Her movements flowed, no wasted energy and her eyes were constantly sweeping the room, keeping her aware without looking like she was paranoid or hyper-vigilant, something that Hotch didn’t know was possible. His mental observations were cut short by Miss Summers’ knowing eyes pinning his, and her voice, spoken to the room at large, but obviously directed at him.
“I’m not exactly feeling welcomed. Especially since there’s a man carrying a gun standing behind me, how about you Giles? You feeling the love?” Her words could have come across as a mild reprimand, but the look in her eyes screamed suspicion and her body language showed that she was moving into a defensive pose, taking up as much room in front of Rupert Giles as possible. Trying to reassure the waking enigma that was Buffy Summers, Hotch reacted without thinking, something that he was cursing himself for just seconds later. Moving his hands and starting to reposition himself slightly farther away, to give the cautious woman more room, Hotch suddenly found himself face to doorjamb, his left arm pinned behind his back and pulled almost out of socket while his right leg was maneuvered wider than shoulder width. Hotch didn’t even feel the questing fingers that pulled his backup pistol out of his ankle holster. The room was filled with tense and shocked silence as Buffy’s voice echoed into the stunned room.
“I don’t like guns.”