It was going to be an uneventful evening. You were driving, with Hotch shotgun, Rossi Reid and JJ in a line in the back. Storms meant the jet couldn't fly back until days later and everyone was keen to get home.

The dirt road hadn't changed a bit. Nothing but orangey red mountains and the occasional rickety gas stop.

Reid shed his swollen jumper quickly and passed out. Rossi had headphones in on something and JJ was on her computer.

It was hot. Hotch had lost the tie and undone his top button, one arm slung on the window ledge with his sleeves rolled up.