“Is
she humming?” Derek Morgan scrunched up as close to
Spencer Reid as he could get, and spoke in a tone that was a hair above
silence. Prodding
his colleague’s
shoulder, he nodded in the direction of the dark haired woman hunched
in the
seat across the aisle from them.
Sprawled on her lap, Agent Jennifer Jareau’s bruised face
was finally
relaxed in sleep.
Cocking
his head slightly, Reid struggled to hear above the
dull thrum of jet engines.
“I
think so,” he finally said, his face screwing up in
concentration.
“You
think we should wake them?” David
Rossi joined the conversation, a wry
smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
“Oh
no,” Morgan said, holding up his hands.
“I am not going to be the one to wake either
of them after they’ve just spent the last five days in the company of
one sick
son of a bitch. Let
them have some
peace.”
“Aw,
where’s your sense of adventure?” the older agent said,
mischief stripping years from his face.
“Right
now? It’s
about two hundred miles, five sleepless nights, and one seriously
messed up
serial killer back that way,” replied Morgan softly as he jerked his
thumb in a
vaguely southern direction.
All three men’s faces lost any hue of amusement as they recalled the events of the past week. Within the sudden quiet, Emily’s humming resolved itself into a lullaby that soon had everyone blinking and yawning sleepily. A few minutes later, soft snores filled the cabin.
fin
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