The Element of Surprise

Lucky - Part 1

Fantasy abandoned by reason produces impossible monsters - Francisco Goya

"Wait, wait, wait, hold da phone, what do you mean he was a player?" Garcia's voice nearly bursts my eardrum from the other end of the line.

Since we haven't seen each other this morning due to me running late and with an extremely time-sensitive case on our hands, she's the only one who hasn't gotten the tea of how my date went off. I half expected her to find out from Derek or Emily, but like I said, time-sensitive case. Everyone's on edge with the idea of a demented psychopath running around, sacrificing and killing young girls for whatever unholy reason it may be. Which lead to Penny calling me after the jet took off, adamant to hear ever single little detail of my evening with Jacques.

"I mean he's a player in the context of seeing me as nothing but a one night stand and then goes and recommends me to his friends," I shrug, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder to use my hands to pour me a mug of coffee. Heaven knows I need it.

"Oh my gosh," she breathes sympathetically, "I'm so sorry, Stella, I had no idea. I did a background check on him, he seemed alright, and... I'm so sorry. I should've dug deeper."

"It's not your fault, Penny," I try to comfort her while stirring some milk into the coffee, "It's all on me. If I wasn't so desperate and in a hurry to get over these strange feelings for R-" I stop myself just in time before I could say his name. That was close. Leaning back, I peer past the kitchen area to see Rossi focusing on a case file. Good, he didn't hear that. "Never mind, enough about me. How was your morning?"

There's a long pause on the other end before she softly replies, "I, uh, kinda met a guy."

"You what?!" I'm aware of a few heads turning towards the kitchen, curious about my sudden outburst. Sending them a smile, I say more calmly, "Okay, you better give me the tea or risk me skydiving out of this jet to force it out of you."

"There's nothing to tell, really. I met him at a coffee shop this morning, I helped him fix his laptop and he gave me his number. No biggie."

"No biggie? Penelope, that's amazing! This makes up for my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night. What's he like? Is he handsome?"

"Uh-huh," she almost squeaks, "And totally, most definitely out of my league."

"No, don't give me that," I almost scold her, "If anyone is out of anyone's league, is you out of that guy's. If he can't see how stunning and perfect you are, then I'll be happy to open his eyes for him. So, are you seeing him again?"

"Sort of, maybe, yes?" She stammers, "He said he'll give me a call. I'm still waiting - anxiously, might I add."

"Penny, stop worrying. He'll call, you'll see," I smile at her rambling, "Listen, I gotta run. The team's going over the case. You better keep my updated on this guy, girl."

Exchanging goodbyes, I hang up and leave the kitchen with my coffee in hand. Upon joining the team, I take a seat next to Spencer opposite of Rossi. Fortunately, I haven't missed much and quickly catches up to what they're discussing regarding satanic killers and how Rossi claims they never found any evidence of killer satanic cults.

That sets the wheels in my head in motion and I blurt out, "Technically, there are only two types of violet satanic criminals. Type one; teen satanists who assume the satanic identity to rebel. Minor crimes, theft, vandalism to churches, schools, symbols of authority. And when combined with drugs and alcohol, they may turn violent."