Title: Kidnapped! The Musical
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: JJ/Morgan, Hotch/Garcia, Rossi/Prentiss, Reid/Jordan, Kevin/Will
Genre: Musical/Comedy/Romance
Summary: Their own bizarre kidnapping and unexplained singing is definitely something the BAU could do without. But then again, there may be some positive side effects after all.

Kidnapped! The Musical

…

In the end, everything is a gag.

Charlie Chaplin

…

Chapter Eleven – As with many stories, it ends with sex

Apparently, slaying a demon was harder than it looked.

Especially if said demon was doing its best to make you sing while it skipped out right beneath your nose. Ultimately, though, the team prevailed.

The BAU coming out on top just seemed to be one of those universal truths that Reid always kept talking about. Of course, Reid wasn't talking now – he was too busy trying to suck Jordan Todd's lips off her face.

All in all, it had been a fairly good day, Emily mused to herself. She'd gotten laid, and the world hadn't ended in a fiery ball of Gilbert and Sullivan. Yet.

Unfortunately, the day wasn't over yet, and she was pretty damn sure that Hotch didn't go around singing Pirates of Penzance on a normal day.

'What's going on?' Morgan demanded of Kevin, who cowered in fear.

'I don't know!' he said. 'Killing the demon should have ended the curse.'

Reid stopped kissing Jordan just long enough to say, 'Maybe there are some residual effects – it's interesting that he's actually singing a cover now, rather than a completely original song. If I were to guess, I'd say that the spell is still lingering.'

'So what?' asked JJ with a frown. 'Do we just do karaoke until it wears off?'

Reid shook his head. 'Karaoke is forced – these events are exceedingly spontaneous. Singing where there would otherwise be none. It seems as though we'll just have to let it play out.'

'So stay out of public until we've stopped singing?' Garcia frowned. 'That's pretty much the opposite of what I do when I'm drinking.'

'It's all I can think of,' said Reid apologetically. 'I'm sorry; they don't exactly have any textbooks about this kind of thing.'

'Necronomicon?' Emily suggested, to which Reid shook his head.

'I think I'll have to do some searching for this kind of information,' he said with a frown.

'Let me guess, you'll get a Ph. D in occult studies?' suggested Rossi, shaking his head.

'That's not a bad idea…' Reid said slowly. 'Now that we know such things exist, it would be a good idea if we were prepared.'

Emily rolled her eyes, and elbowed Rossi softly. 'Way to go.'

'What?' He had that put on innocent look on his face, and Emily couldn't help but smile. 'Let's get out of here,' she said. 'No offence, but if I start singing, I don't really want to be here.' She gave Rossi a look – the "do you want to come home with me and have ridiculous amounts of hot sex?" look. He didn't argue.

…

Garcia followed Hotch to his office, fluro pink purse hanging off her shoulder. Since Strauss' revelation, things had been somewhat awkward between them, but Garcia simply could not quell the fire that was burning inside her heart.

Now that things were back to normal, though, she knew that it wouldn't last; Aaron Hotchner was not the kind of man to engage in a relationship with a subordinate, even if his scandalous love affair with Emily and Reid (at the same time, apparently) had somehow made it into the FBI rumor mill. Penelope Garcia couldn't possibly hope to live up to that.

'Sir, I just wanted to…apologize for my behavior today. It was inappropriate, and I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.'

For a few long, agonizing seconds, Hotch was silent. 'I feel like I should be the one apologizing,' he said finally. 'For the longest time…' He frowned, seemingly lost for words. 'Penelope, you are the brightest thing in my life, and inappropriate behavior or no, I can't deny that I felt the same way.'

She stared at him. Out of all the responses he could have possibly given, that was totally not the one she had expected.

'But, the rumors…' Garcia started, a little exasperated.

'I know what the rumor mill says,' Hotch said, a slight chuckle accompanying his words. 'Reid and Prentiss are both exemplary agents, but the truth is…I prefer blonds.'

'Well, they do have more fun,' Garcia conceded.

'I think we'll have to test that theory.'

Garcia stared at him. Did he just suggest…

Ohmigod, did Hotch just propose sexy times?

'Be still my speckled heart, sir, I think it's time you took me home.'

There was a rare sparkle in Hotch's eye.

'I think that's a wonderful idea.'

…

The first thing that Morgan did was find a convenient supply closet.

JJ had an office, of course, but even with the door shut, people were always barging into offices. In any case, the supply closet was a time-honored tradition that he wasn't going to deny.

He could have kicked himself for not paying attention to just how ridiculously attractive Jennifer Jareau was before today. Her shirt was tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination, and her skirt was cut in a way that told him her legs were spectacular. For a long time, their friendship had been bordering on antagonistic, but he was determined to change that, once and for all.

It seemed strange to think that JJ was the first girlfriend he'd had who would unquestionably join him in his favorite pursuits; beer, football, and teasing Reid.

He kissed a line along her neck, hard enough to give a little bit of pressure, but soft enough not to leave any marks. 'You're beautiful,' he murmured.

'Not so bad yourself, stud,' she replied, lifting his shirt over his head.

'Will?' he asked, a little unsure as to the status of that relationship.

'Pretty sure he's getting his jollies off in the men's bathroom with Kevin,' she replied. 'We haven't exactly been…It wasn't going to last, anyway.'

Morgan nodded. As much as he lusted after JJ, he didn't want to be a home-wrecker.

Considering the state of his pants, it was probably too late to go back anyway.

…

Will had considered the men's bathroom at first, but he didn't particularly want to jeopardize Kevin's job; considering there would be a lot of moving around over the course of the next few months, either one of them being out of a job would be a major annoyance.

Instead, he waited down by Kevin's car – a bright green Volkswagen Beetle that almost made Will's eyes bleed. He didn't want to screw this up. Kevin looked almost surprised to see him there, even more so when Will gave him a kiss on the cheek.

'Hey.'

Kevin stared at him. 'I don't like the way that word sounds. Is this…are you backing out?'

Will shook his head. 'No, no, I…I've never done this before, chère.'

'Neither have I,' Kevin shrugged. 'Well…apart from a couple of times in college, but that was pretty short term. We can, uh…we can work it out as we go, right? No such thing as a normal relationship.'

'Considering how this all started, I'd say that's a big damn truth.'

'I guess that just leaves one question – your place or mine?'

William LaMontagne Junior gave a grin.

…

Reid burst into song in the car, but otherwise their night had been relatively uneventful so far, with dinner and television. He managed to slot a commentary of the history of the universe into the ad breaks, and Jordan wasn't upset at all, which was a first. Usually his dates found the "genius" thing a bit of a turn-on at first, but got sick of it quickly when he explained the materials that went into making a condom, or something else ridiculous.

Still, part of him was wondering how long this particular honeymoon period would last. He didn't know Jordan Todd particularly well; during her time on the team, she'd usually spent her time with Morgan or Emily.

'Do you like music?' he asked, hovering near the CD player, a little unsure of himself. He had classical, mostly; Beethoven and Tchaikovsky and Chopin.

'That would be nice,' she said, and he gave a sigh of relief.

'Hey.' Jordan stood, facing him. 'You don't have to pretend to be someone else, Spencer. I want to be with you.'

He was a little flustered at first, but that soon disappeared.

Along with his clothes.

…

It had been two days since "The Event" as they called it, and Emily found herself being roped into attending one of her mother's functions. As good fortune would have it though, for the first time in so long, she wasn't going alone.

David Rossi looked ridiculously good in a tuxedo, and there were mutual promises of post-event sex, so complaining was at a minimum. Still, that didn't mean she was particularly thrilled about being cornered by her mother.

'Just a little bit longer,' Dave whispered under his breath.

'It's astounding…' Emily replied, her expression twisting into a frown.

Oh no.

Oh, God no.

'What's astounding?' he asked, curious.

'Time is fleeting…' She gave him a look of desperation, one that not even a non-profiler could misinterpret. 'Madness…takes its toll.'

'You're singing?' he said, half-incredulous. 'Here?'

'But listen closely…not for very much longer. I've got to keep control.' She clamped her jaw shut, trying to will the words to stay inside, to wait just half an hour longer while they escaped. Escape didn't seem to be an option, though, as her legs didn't seemed to be inclined to move in the way she wanted them too. Of course, they were perfectly willing to dance, which was just another horror story. 'I remember…doing the Time Warp, drinking those moments when…the blackness would hit me, and the void would be calling…LET'S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!'

Her mind had the good graces to unlock its stranglehold at that point, allowing her to escape to the bathroom, hyperaware of all the eyes that followed.

Fuck.

'Hey.'

Emily jumped as she felt Rossi's hand on her shoulder.

'I guess it's not quite over, huh?'

Emily shook her head, abject horror in her eyes. Finally, she said, 'I guess this means I'll never be invited to another function again. Maybe something good has come from this whole "singing, and fucking and kidnapping" experience after all.'

'I'm wounded,' Rossi said, sounding as though wounded was the last emotion he felt. 'I think you'll have to find some way to make it up to me.'

'What did you have in mind?'

'A gentleman never tells.'

…

The next day, the sun rose, and the birds were singing, and none of the team were kidnapped, missing, or otherwise held hostage, which really, was more than they could say about some days.

THE END.