Garcia had outdone herself.
The BAU conference room had been transformed—strings of lights along the ceiling, a small tree in the corner (Hotch had apparently lost that battle), tables laden with food that ranged from homemade to suspiciously professional catering. Holiday music played at a volume just low enough to allow conversation, and the usual crime scene photos had been replaced with snowflake decals.
"Welcome to Garcia's Winter Wonderland!" she announced as team members trickled in. "Leave your trauma at the door. That's an order."
The team cleaned up well.
Hotch wore a tie that wasn't gray—navy blue with small silver patterns. Reid had abandoned his cardigans for something that almost resembled style. Morgan arrived in a jacket that probably cost more than my rent, grinning like he'd been waiting for an excuse to show it off.
And Elle.
Elle wore a deep red dress that I'd never seen before. Her hair was down, softer than its usual tactical ponytail. She moved through the room with a confidence that made people turn and look, even in a crowd of colleagues who saw her every day.
She caught me staring.
"Eyes up, Mercer."
"Can't help it. You look..."
"I know." But she smiled as she said it. "You don't clean up too badly yourself."
I'd worn the one good suit I owned—charcoal gray, white shirt, no tie because ties felt like nooses. Elle straightened my collar anyway, her fingers brushing the skin of my neck.
"Nervous?"
"Should I be?"
"Half the Bureau is here. Our relationship is the worst-kept secret in Quantico." She glanced around the room. "If you were looking for discretion, this wasn't the night for it."
"I wasn't looking for discretion."
Her smile softened.
"Good."
We found a quiet corner near the window, watching the party unfold. Gideon was telling stories to a cluster of younger agents—something about the early days of the BAU, before profiling was respected, when they'd had to fight for every resource. Reid was explaining something mathematical to JJ, who nodded patiently despite clearly not following. Morgan had cornered Hotch with a drink, and somehow—impossibly—Hotch was laughing.
"I love this team," Elle said quietly. "I don't say that often. About anything."
"I know."
"Whatever happens..." She trailed off, something flickering behind her eyes. "Whatever happens, I'm glad I'm here. With them. With you."
[EMOTIONAL ANALYSIS: ELLE — NOSTALGIC, APPREHENSIVE]
[UNDERLYING PATTERN: ANTICIPATING CHANGE]
[FOCUS: -2]
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She took a drink. "Everything. I don't know."
I waited. Elle wasn't someone you pushed.
"JJ brought me a case today," she said finally. "Before the party. Seattle again."
My chest tightened.
Seattle. The assault case.
The one that starts everything.
"Bad?"
"The worst kind of bad. Home invasion. Single woman. He... took his time." Elle's jaw tightened. "She survived. Barely. He's still out there."
"JJ asked you to lead?"
"I volunteered." She met my eyes. "Someone has to speak for her, Ethan. Someone has to catch the bastard who did this."
And it will break you. I've seen this story. I know how it ends.
But I can't stop it.
"Be careful," I said. "In Seattle."
"I'm always careful."
"I mean—" I struggled for words that weren't revealing. "Cases like this get inside your head. They change the way you think. Don't let it—"
"Don't let it what?"
"Don't let it change who you are."
Elle studied my face.
"You're worried about me."
"Always."
"It's just a case, Ethan. I've worked hundreds of cases."
"This one's different."
"Why?"
Because I know what happens next. Because I've watched you spiral in another timeline. Because I love you and I can't save you from yourself.
"I don't know," I said. "Just... a feeling."
She reached up, touched my face.
"I'll be fine. And when I get back, you owe me a real date. Somewhere without crime scene photos."
"Deal."
Across the room, Morgan was raising a glass.
"If I could have everyone's attention!" He waited for the noise to settle. "I want to make a toast. To the best damn team I've ever worked with."
Glasses raised throughout the room.
"We spend most of our time chasing monsters," Morgan continued. "Seeing the worst humanity has to offer. It takes something special to do this job without losing ourselves. And this team—" He looked around at each of them. "This team has something special."
Gideon nodded. Hotch's expression softened. Reid smiled that shy smile he got when he felt included.
"So here's to us. To another year of catching bad guys and keeping each other sane. And may next year be boring as hell."
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
I raised my glass with everyone else, but the wine tasted like ash.
Next year won't be boring.
Next year, everything changes.
[DREAD METER: 8 → 10]
[NOTE: ANTICIPATORY STRESS ACCUMULATING]
Gideon caught my eye across the room.
For one moment, the suspicion that usually colored his gaze was absent. Just one colleague acknowledging another. One hunter recognizing the weight carried by someone else.
He raised his glass slightly. I returned the gesture.
Then it was gone—whatever connection had flickered between us, buried again under the complicated history of watching and being watched.
But it had happened.
Maybe there's more to Gideon than suspicion.
Maybe when everything falls apart, he'll surprise me.
The party wound down around midnight. People drifted away in pairs and groups, carrying leftovers and warm feelings. Garcia was the last to leave the conference room, surveying her domain with satisfaction before finally letting Hotch lock the door.
I walked Elle to her car.
Snow had started falling while we were inside—light flurries that caught the parking lot lights and sparkled. Virginia winters weren't usually this beautiful, but tonight the universe seemed to be trying.
"When do you leave for Seattle?" I asked.
"Day after tomorrow. Early flight."
"Need a ride to the airport?"
"I'll manage." She leaned against her car, looking up at the snow. "This was a good night."
"Yeah. It was."
"Ethan?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever you're not telling me—whatever secrets you're carrying—I meant what I said. When you can tell me, I want to hear it." She met my eyes. "But until then... thank you. For being honest about the hiding. Most people would just lie."
"I don't want to lie to you."
"I know." She reached up, pulled my face down to hers. "That's why I'm still here."
The kiss was unhurried, tasting of wine and snow and everything we couldn't say. When it ended, she pulled back just enough to speak.
"Be careful while I'm gone."
"I'm always careful."
"I mean it. I've got a bad feeling about this winter. Like something's building."
She feels it too. The storm coming.
"I'll be here when you get back," I said. "Promise."
One more kiss—quick, fierce—and then she was in her car, engine starting, headlights cutting through the falling snow.
I watched her drive away.
[RELATIONSHIP STATUS: ELLE GREENAWAY — STRONG (+75)]
[NOTE: ATTACHMENT DEEPENING DESPITE SECRETS]
[WARNING: EMOTIONAL INVESTMENT INCREASES VULNERABILITY]
The parking lot was empty now. Just me and the snow and the weight of everything I knew.
Elle was flying to Seattle. The assault case. William Lee. The shooting that would change her.
And I couldn't stop it. Couldn't warn her. Couldn't do anything but watch and hope that somehow, in this timeline, things would be different.
But what if they're not?
What if I came to this world just to watch everything fall apart?
The snow kept falling.
I stood in it until my coat was white, until my fingers were numb, until the cold had driven out everything except the simple fact of being alive.
Then I walked to my car and drove home.
Alone.
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