checkmate , s.reid

017 » THE SHOOT OUT

The jet is quiet. Quiet and dark. I gaze out the window, watching the cities and patchwork fields and towns pass miles below us. My eyes feel heavy, but I do not want to sleep, so I get up to make myself some coffee.

As I make my way across the jet to the small kitchen, I pass by Reid playing chess with himself. I pause for a brief second, glancing down at the chess board. I nudge a bishop across the board, cornering in the king. "Checkmate," I say, heading into the kitchen.

Grabbing a mug, I can feel Reid's eyes fixed on me. What I don't know is whether it is a withering glare, or just a simple gaze. I do not glance back at him as I make myself some coffee and place the machine back. Lifting the mug to my lips, I take a sip, making a face when the hot liquid burns my tongue slightly.

I slip my fingers through the handle and head back to my seat, sighing softly as I sit down. I place the mug on the table and check my phone, seeing a few messages from Jackson.

JACKSON:
Where are you off to?

Y/N:
California

JACKSON:
Ooh, far.

Y/N:
yeah, but hopefully the
case doesn't take too long

JACKSON:
Hopefully!

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I open up my book, holding the bookmark between my fingers. My gaze trails across the page, but the words seem to melt together into a confusing mess. I furrow my eyebrows, trying to concentrate, but the letters twist and writhe too intensely. Sighing to myself, I slide the bookmark into place and close the book, rubbing my eyes. I lean my head back slightly, turning to glance at the others.

Mostly everyone is asleep, except for Reid and Prentiss, who are talking softly on the other side of the jet. Even Hotch and Rossi are sleeping, and I do not think I have ever seen them take a nap before. It's strange, seeing people you work with go to sleep.

I wrap my jacket further around myself and lean my head back, gazing out the window once again.

—

Seeing as it is late when we land, we check into a hotel to start on the case in the morning. I take the stairs up to the floor my room is on and swipe the keycard in the door, pushing it open. Closing the door quietly, I lock the door and hook the chain on for extra security.

After brushing my teeth and changing into sweatpants and a tank top, I slip into the bed and grab my book from my bag. I do not feel like sleeping, so I read.

And then I fall asleep after twenty minutes anyway.

I am jolted out of my slumber by the sound of my alarm, sighing as I dismiss it. Rubbing my eyes, I shift in the bed and sit up, groaning from the ache in my joints. As I roll my shoulders back, I swing my legs off the bed and stand up, wobbling slightly for a moment.

After making myself a mug of tea from those little trays of stuff that hotels leave out, I brush my teeth, wash my face and get dressed. I pull on a white button-up and tuck it into black dress pants. After tugging on a navy blue sweater, I brush my hair, opting to leave it down rather than tying it back, and pull on my Doc Martens.

In the hotel lobby, the team gathers around. Everyone looks tired, and I'm probably not any better. "Alright, Y/L/N and Reid, head to the ME. Prentiss and Rossi, check out the dump sites. The rest of us will head to the local PD to set up," Hotch says, glancing around us all.