Police in Los Angeles

Early Monday morning, Jack was tidying up his backyard. Initially, he had planted a bunch of fruit trees to experiment with his skills. Almost a year had passed, and while most had survived, not many had thrived. Now that he had some money, he decided to get rid of the troublesome ones and replace them with better trees.

He ordered several cherry trees from a cherry farm in northeastern Los Angeles. He chose a variety called 'Rainier,' which bore golden yellow fruit. These cherry trees were about two to three years old, meaning they would bear fruit by December of next year.

While selecting the cherry trees, Jack found a batch of grafted waxberry and loquat trees. Overjoyed, he persuaded the farm owner to sell him a few, which he brought home along with the cherry trees.

Now, his backyard had cherry trees on the left, a few waxberry and loquat trees on the right, and two mulberry trees (one male and one female) in the middle. To ensure the trees were well cared for, even during his frequent absences, Jack signed a long-term agreement with the farm, paying a small deposit for a gardener to check on the trees monthly, fertilize, and deworm as needed.

Wearing a cowboy hat he bought in Texas, Jack worked in the sun nearly all day. It wasn't until his back ached that he realized he had spent almost the entire week doing labor-intensive tasks. He cast a healing spell on himself, feeling like a diligent old ox, constantly working hard.

He took out thawed steaks, pre-cooked rice, and eggs from the new fridge and began preparing dinner, humming a tune. Hannah had been on a business trip to San Francisco for a few days. It seemed that the cases had surged after the new year, keeping the entire California FBI busy.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Seeing it was Rossi, Jack, with his hands full, answered via speaker.

"Hi, Rossi. What's up?"

Rossi's voice was as deep and powerful as ever, filled with the unique warmth of an Italian.

"Sorry to cut your vacation short. The FBI in Connecticut needs help with a major kidnapping case. I'm short-handed as most of the recruits haven't arrived yet, so I'm calling you in."

Is this what it feels like to be valued by your leader? Without stopping his cooking, Jack quickly agreed.

"No problem. When do we leave? I'm ready anytime."

"The flight is in an hour and a half. You have plenty of time to prepare. Remember to bring your gun... Are you cooking?"

Rossi seemed puzzled by the sounds coming from Jack's end.

"Yes, making dinner. Want some?" Jack joked.

While training Reid at the academy, Rossi seemed particularly fond of his fried rice. Considering Rossi was from northern Italy, it was somewhat understandable.

"One portion might not be enough. We're quite far from LAX, driving there now. Dr. Reid is with me, along with a lovely lady."

Hearing his name mentioned, Reid's cheerful voice came through the phone.

"Jack, I want dessert."

Jack rolled his eyes, searching the fridge for ingredients. It took nearly 40 minutes to reach the airport, leaving less than an hour—certainly not enough time to make a special dessert.

"I'm not your fairy godmother, conjuring up fancy dresses and pumpkin carriages. You'll eat what I make, no complaints."

Before hanging up, Jack heard a soft laugh from the woman, confirming her beauty. He could always trust an Italian man's taste in aesthetics and soccer.

Adding more butter to the pan, Jack tossed in the remaining rice, thoroughly frying it, before adding the increased amount of eggs, shrimp, and ham, cooking with all his might.

---

Seeing the brand new white Gulfstream business jet, Jack was shocked.

This newly formed task force seemed to be overly extravagant. These jets cost at least $70-80 million each. He couldn't fathom how many trips his net worth could cover on this thing.

With a newfound understanding of the BAU's wealth, Jack followed Rossi onto the plane.

The cabin was spacious, with only eight seats. Two people were already on board.

Reid had a chess set in front of him, playing against himself, while a tall, slender blonde beauty with brilliant hair sat on the other side, flipping through a stack of documents.

As the two boarded, Reid pushed his chessboard aside, eagerly eyeing the insulated food container Jack carried.

Though Jack's cooking wasn't that extraordinary, Reid, like a child, had a weakness for desserts.

Placing the insulated container in front of Reid, Jack turned his attention to the beautiful blonde with long, golden hair.

She stood up gracefully and extended a delicate hand.

"Jennifer Jareau. Everyone calls me JJ. You can call me that too. Nice to meet you, Agent Tavole."

Jack politely shook her hand, gripping only her fingertips lightly.

"You can call me Jack. It's an honor to work with such a stunning colleague."

Rossi, the last to board, introduced them.

"JJ recently joined the FBI, formerly with the NYPD. She'll be our public liaison, the link between our team and the outside world."

"Jack is local, the best shot I've seen from the LAPD, and he's excellent in close combat. I still remember the sight of that big suspect during our first meeting."

Reid, opening a container with ice cream cake, took a big scoop and closed his eyes in satisfaction, adding, "He's also a good driver. During PIT training at the academy, he not only defended against all the instructor's attempts but also flipped their car."

Jack ruffled Reid's curly hair, taking out the other containers to share with JJ and Rossi.

"Time was short, so I made a semi-finished Italian seafood fried rice. Give it a try."

Rossi opened his container, inhaling the rich aroma of butter, eggs, and seafood, taking a deep breath to savor it.

"I'll be out tomorrow. There might be another chapter later. If not, the scheduled afternoon chapter might be delayed to the evening."

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