Criminal Minds 1. Introduction

**Author's Note:** Okay, so this first chapter is actually a 2 parter. It came out far longer than I was expecting, so I chose to break it up to see if it interests anyone at all. If it does, I will continue! Just so you know, this story will be a pairing between S. Reid and an Original Character I created. There will be romance, but it will not be the entirety of this story, and I do plan for it to be long. The first chapter isn't centered around Reid or the new person, but it will become that way soon. Without further adue, onto the story!

**Disclaimer: **Obviously I don't own any of the characters the show created and this is based off the show. I hope I catch the characters in all of their glory. My characters and my ideas are my own, but the crimes are inspired by things I've seen on the show.

Ch. 1 - Introduction

As usual, the BAU team congregated in their headquarters Monday morning. Some arrived earlier than others, but by 9 am, everyone had reported in. The prior week had been a slow one, allowing the team to catch up on some paperwork. Even still, there was more than any of them could handle, so they were all busy filing through forms. Nothing had come in yet, surprisingly; this would occupy their time until they were given a new case to work on.

Since JJ had returned to the Pentagon once again, and Prentiss decided to leave the unit, Hotchner was looking for new recruits. His morning paperwork consisted of filing through potential new members to hire. None struck out at him, and he sighed heavily as he realized he could not easily replace those who had left, if at all. There was an ex military personnel who cleared his psychiatric evaluations and wished to continue serving, a police academy graduate looking to join the FBI, a fellow FBI agent looking for a transfer, and many other well qualified applicants. The lead agent just felt like something was missing.

Leaning back in his plush leather chair, he let the back of it rock a few times as he read through another file. This one was high on Strauss' list, which meant it was low on his. He barely looked through the woman's file before he threw it on the desk with the others. Placing his pinched fingers against his lips, he stared toward the wall of his office pensively. It was always difficult to bring new people in. Just as a headache began to pull on his head, Rossi came in to interrupt Hotchner's brooding thoughts.

"We're assembling in the conference room in ten. Garcia's found another project for us," the elder man said calmly. Hotchner gave his colleague a half-hearted cast of his eyes before they fell back to the spot on the wall he'd been surveying for the past 15 minutes. He nodded slightly to the information.

"Alright," he said dully, his mind still elsewhere, causing his voice to sound quite distant. Rossi's thick brows furrowed slightly as he stared at the team leader.

"Everything okay," Rossi articulated carefully as he assessed Hotchner's tension only as a profiler could. The tired boss finally turned away from the wall, spinning his chair slightly until he was properly facing his desk, and Rossi. He took in a quiet breath, and nodded solemnly as he let it out.

"Yeah," he began hesitantly, his voice quiet and smooth, "just reviewing new files for potential team members."

"Ah," Rossi said, with a single nod of his head in understanding. He casually took a few steps into Hotchner's office, hands tucked firmly in his suit's pockets. He shrugged a little and added, "why worry about it so hard? They gave you a week to decide, didn't they?"

Hotchner shook his head. Glancing at the files beneath his fingertips, he said, "Strauss wants my decision by tomorrow night so she can process them by Friday."

"You're kidding," Rossi stated with scrutiny, though he hardly doubted Aaron's words. Strauss always seemed to be giving them the short end of the stick, and it more than irked him she seemed to enjoy doing it. Hotchner nodded instead of shaking his head, for he knew Rossi well enough to know it was rhetorical.

"Might I give a suggestion," Rossi continued as he quickly noticed Hotchner sinking away again. When Hotch lifted his eyes to stare directly at the other man, Rossi continued, "take in someone new. We're all seasoned, and some of us are beginning to see more and more of them. Maybe, a few too many if you ask me. Some fresh blood wouldn't just be good for the unit in the long run, it could help rejuvenate those of us still left."

The two older men exchanged knowing glances, and faint smiles of understanding passed over their withered lips. Hotchner nodded slightly in thanks, and collected the files in a neat pile as Rossi left for the conference room. Whatever this case was going to give them, Hotchner would be re-reading and analyzing the files during any down time he happened to have. It was just his luck to be given a time constraint for such a decision, and land a new case all at once. Hopefully, it would be a quick one.

The team seemed a bit livelier this morning as Hotch entered the conference room, no doubt because of the calm weekend they all had been graced with. It was nice to see, but it didn't crack a smile on the man's face as he took his seat. He didn't get a chance to say anything as the brightly colored computer nerd they all loved so much came shuffling into the room, iPads in hand and smile absent as she clicked the projector on.

"Okay, so, this just came in several minutes ago," Garcia began in her peppy voice as she handed out the iPads to her team members. As usual, Reid was handed a paper folder. "Camden, New Jersey. A guy was beaten to death with a pair of pliers. He was found this morning hanging from a scaffold in a construction site. His entrails were twisted around his neck post-mortem, and a message was painted in his blood on the side of the building the scaffold laid against saying 'You're next'."

"Who found the body," Hotchner immediately asked.

"His boss, a James Miller. He's in charge of this building district, and overseeing the work of the new office building being built. He found the guy this morning at 5 am when he arrived to inspect yesterday's progress report," Garcia responded promptly, her eyes swiftly passing over the team as they looked through the gruesome photos.

"You think the message might be for him," Morgan asked.

"It's possible," Hotchner murmured, though he shook his head a bit, "we can't be sure though. It's too early to tell anything. He might just as easily be our unsub."

"Have there been any similar cases in the area," Rossi questioned next. Garcia shook her head, causing her fluffy curls to bounce around her head.

"No, it's the first they've seen, but based on the message left, and the heinous nature of the crime, local police are afraid more is coming," she said, a bit nervously as she twisted her hands around the remote for the projector.

"I'd say they're not wrong," Reid finally piped in, leaning back in his chair as his eyebrows came together in his usual thoughtful way before he spilled a ton of facts for the group to quickly digest. "This level of violence and apparentness indicates a psychopathology where only an escalation is probable, most likely very quickly. I'd say whoever is next might be found disemboweled before we can even get there," he explained factually, speaking slightly with his hands as he reiterated what he could off of such little information. Hotchner nodded once before rising from his chair.

"Then we're off to New Jersey," he said simply, and the team knew to pack their things quickly, for they were leaving immediately. "It's been awhile since we've been to the former murder capitol," he said absently to Rossi. The other man nodded a bit.

"Strange, don't you think?" Rossi didn't wait for a foreboding answer to his question before he left to prepare himself.

* * *

The plane ride was short since they were on the same coast, and only a few states away from New Jersey. While the team reviewed the case files, and chatted amongst themselves about it, Aaron sat alone in a corner, pondering once again over the recruitment files. He trusted his team enough to let this case go unanalyzed by him, for now. The last thing he needed was Strauss breathing down his neck more so than she already was. He'd feel more at ease once he made a decision.

He had narrowed his choices down to three by the time they landed, but still, something didn't feel right about any of the selections. Maybe it was just his tiredness, or his shot nerves. Maybe it was just the distraction of a new case. He didn't know why, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't make up his mind about these new potentials. As they were picked up from the airport by a police car, he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind to focus on the case at hand.

"Any new developments," the lead agent immediately asked of the policeman. The bald officer shook his head.

"No, everything we have, we sent to you," he added gruffly, casting a glance in the rear-view mirror through his sunglasses to get a look at this hot-shot specialist team. He wasn't fond of the idea, bringing outsiders in, but it wasn't his call to make.

Hotch nodded slightly before picking his phone up, and dialing Morgan in the car behind them. "Morgan, tell the officer to take you and Reid to the crime site. See what you guys can gather from there. Rossi and I will take the police station, and talk to whomever they gathered there," he instructed.

"Right-o, boss. We'll get in touch once we've found something," Morgan responded smoothly, before hanging up and informing their driver of where to take them. As they younger boys were driven to the construction site, Hotchner and Rossi ended up at the police station.

"We have the victim's sister waiting in an interrogation room, a few co-workers, and the boss who found him for you all to talk to," their police driver explained to them as they waltzed into the busy police station. The FBI agents nodded, and thanked the man until they were passed on to the police chief.

"Have you interrogated any of the people so far," Rossi asked the man, whom nodded at the question.

"Yeah, the boss and the victim's sister were questioned, but we didn't have much luck getting anything we didn't already have. We were hoping you guys could pull some more information. Our summer intern is doing a follow up with the sister now," the police chief informed them, and nodded his head in the direction of the interrogation room the woman was held in. The BAU seniors immediately made their way toward the room, and were surprised to find two women sitting in the room.

One had stringy blond hair, a red face, and puffy eyes from crying; she was obviously the victim's sister. The other one, whose back was to them at first, actually took their breath away when she turned around to face them. The fact that she was a female wasn't what struck them; it was how young she looked, and how stunningly beautiful she was.

Her skin was smooth, with a natural bronze that came from her Latino culture, and too much time in the sun. Her hair was chocolate brown, but had bleached out in the sunlight to give her an auburn color, with deep highlights of red and blonde embedded in almost every strand. Her eyes were intense, but had a soft, almond shape to them. They were light brown, and the longer they looked, the more they could see the honey gold circling just around her pupil. She had full lips that were a dark pinkish red. She didn't need to wear make-up to be gorgeous, so the fact that she was wearing light traces of eye shadow, eyeliner, and a soft lipstick made it almost impossible for them to take their eyes off of her face. She presented herself well, in a black pencil skirt and a blue blouse covered with a vest. It flattered her, and could not hide her voluptuous figure that was even more mesmerizing being coupled with her slender navel and legs.

The men were well practiced with their emotions, and only paused a moment as they entered the room. Nothing gave them away in their face, but the young woman noticed the spark in their eyes. She didn't flutter and eyelash at them though as she stared back, awaiting their introduction.

"Are you the summer intern," Hotchner asked curiously, rounding the desk to get a better look at her. She smiled a little, and nodded to him once.

"Yep. Name's Vanessa Courtez, but I prefer Ness for short. And you are," she said, intrigued, lifting a brow as she looked from one man to the other.

"I'm SS Agent Hotchner, and this is SS Agent Rossi," he mentioned, pointing the tip of his folder at his companion. "We're from the Behavior Analysis Unit of the FBI. We were called in to assist on your boss's case," he explained, turning his attention to the withered secondary victim.

"Ah," Vanessa muttered, turning her heated gaze back to the poor woman sobbing into a tissue. "Well, I was about done, anyway. I'm sure you can do better than my simple routine questioning. I should go file this and get back to my dissertation anyway," she added, rising from the chair. She held her hand out to shake Rossi's hand, but paused when he gave her a surprised, but impressed look.

"You're a doctorate student?" She smiled at the older man's question, and nodded a little to him. "But you're so young," he added in disbelief. Shaking his head a little, he looked over her once and said, "You can't be more than twenty."

"Twenty-four, actually. That's the proper age for a doctorate student, so I'm told," she said slyly as she began to walk out of the room. Rossi followed her to the door.

"Yes," Rossi commented with a chortle in his throat, "you just look very young, is all. Pardon me. It'll be good for you in later years though. Do you like your studies?"

Vanessa smiled wryly as she stepped out of the office. She turned to look at Rossi, standing in the door. Her gaze flickered to Hotchner as he finally took his gaze off of her to sit in the seat across from the victim's family member. When she looked back at Rossi, her mouth opened to say, "I get that a lot. Sometimes, they still try to card me at the movies. And my studies? I actually just wanted to put off paying back my student loans for a few more years. I figured the best way to keep the government off my back was to stay very close to them, and pretend to enjoy doing research for them."

Rossi actually chuckled a little at her dry humor. The sarcasm was refreshing. He nodded a little to her. "Fascinating," he said as he gripped the door and began to close it around him. Before he shut her out, and she turned away, he asked, "what's your field of study?"

"I'm going for my Ph. D in Clinical Forensic Psychology. I have two years left to the program, and I just started my dissertation on the difference between psychopaths who commit murder, and those who do not," she answered kindly. She smiled a little, and nodded to the senior agent before waving, and leaving him to do her work. Rossi closed the door with a smile on his face.

* * *

As Reid and Morgan were pulled up toward the crime scene on a different scaffold, Spencer went into his usual rant of egregious statistics.

"Do you know pulleys may have been invented as early as 1500 BC in Mesopotamia? They were rudimentary, and only pulled water up from wells. Archimedes didn't invent the first compound pulley until 287 BC. Without his invention, the block and tackle wouldn't be possible, which allows scaffolds, and other massive structures to be hoisted up like this," the awkward genius rambled on, his eyes ever watching up toward the sky.

Well practiced, Morgan let the kid say his piece without really listening. He knew when he could tune Reid out, and when he should listen; they had worked together long enough. While Reid said his piece, Morgan was running through his own thoughts. "How could anyone make a killing up this high? Even with these things being sturdy as they are, that kind of violent force is bound to make a scuffle. There would be a lot of movement to cause the scaffold to sway around. How could the unsub keep his balance long enough to beat the man without either of them falling off," Derek pondered insightfully.

Reid took a moment to think about it, his brows furrowing. His lips pursed a moment, before he said, "unless he didn't kill the victim here. He could have beaten him somewhere else."

"And what? Dragged him up here, then dissected him, and painted on the wall? Why? Wouldn't we have seen evidence down below too," Morgan countered.

"Not if this unsub is methodical. There's tarp all over this place to cover equipment; he must have knowledge of the area to kill, and transport the victim without leaving a trace behind or being spotted," Reid hypothesized. It was then they reached the other scaffold. The boys were momentarily left speechless as their guide tied the two pieces together so the detectives to make their way onto the other one. The thing was covered in blood, leaving the wood stained brightly. As messy as the scaffold was, the message written above it was precise, and cleanly displayed. The letters were large, and finely crafted.

Both boys made their way over carefully; their boots were covered in plastic, as were their hands. They didn't even notice how high they were, or the view of the eastern part of the city; their minds were solely focused on the crime scene. Morgan pulled out a few pictures of the body he had been given at the station, and studied them while looking at the spot where it should have been. There was blood everywhere. While he did this, Reid studied the actual message.

"This guys is no light-weight," Morgan began as he studied the slightly overweight build of the victim. "To pull dead weight around like this, you'd have to be strong or working with a team. This guy has to be in good physical health, and is probably tall."

Reid was listening while he scrutinized the message. "Morgan, look at the penmanship of this message. It's completely flawless…this wasn't some crazed unsub splattering blood on the wall. He painted this on here," the boyish man said, slightly perplexed.

"What, you mean with a brush?"

"Yeah, exactly. He used a painter's brush," Reid commented. Both of them stared at the message with a newfound disturbing feeling in their gut.

When they had finished up at the crime scene, Morgan phoned in what they had gathered to Rossi as they were carted back to the ground. Hotch ordered them to go to the morgue next to inspect the body. It was waning into late afternoon as they got into the car, and began their route to the next destination.

"Hey Morgan," Reid said, a bit tentatively.

"Yeah?" One of Morgan's faint eyebrows quirked slightly as he watched his usually shy friend become even more nervous. The genius was fiddling with the strap of his backpack as he looked into his lap with a grave expression.

"You think Hotch is trying to replace Emily and JJ already," the man's tentative question came. Morgan was a little surprised he was asking this question at a time like this, but he couldn't deny he'd been thinking it himself. It was strange to see Reid so worried over it; they had received new members quite a few times over the last 7 years. It disturbed some of them more than others, but Garcia was always the one to fret the most over a new face. Reid was opinionated, a little awkwardly nervous maybe, but never this shaken. When Prentiss had faked her death, it had certainly made him more sensitive to gaining new team members. Why that was, Morgan would have to profile Reid for, and he tried not to profile his own team as often as possible.

"Yeah. He has to, kid. There are only four of us physically working on this case. We can't keep our own for long like this, no matter how good we are at it," Morgan said wisely, while trying to understand where this behavior was coming from. Instead of assuming, he decided to ask, "You afraid of something?"

Reid finally looked up from his bag, a slight twitch in his movement. "What? No! I've just been thinking if…maybe, it's time I get replaced," he responded a bit hesitantly. It wasn't long ago he wondered if there was more he could do, and the thought hadn't truly left him since he started pondering it. Morgan seemed a bit taken aback; out of all the possible answers for Reid's odd reaction, this hadn't been one he thought of.

"Hey, let's get one thing straight," Morgan said, "just because Hotch has to fill their positions doesn't mean Emily and JJ are being replaced. That's not possible, and there's _certainly_ no way you could be replaced. Okay, kid?"

Reid actually passed a small, dull smile to Morgan. "Okay," he said weakly, but his eyes fell back to his backpack.

**Author's Note:** So, what do you all think so far? Let me know, so I know whether to continue! I know it wasn't so exciting so far, but I promise it will get better! This is my first time writing on this website in like 6 years, so please let me know how my writing has developed. Thanks!


	2. Is Fate Cruel or Kind?

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Just so you know, this will be the last chapter that isn't centered around Reid and the new character. After this, the story will begin to focus more around them. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or it's characters. My ideas are inspired by the show, and only they and my original characters can be considered my own.**

Chapter 2: Is Fate Cruel or Kind?

Vanessa had been watching the two FBI agents at the police stations quite strategically since they had arrived. After she filed her paperwork with the chief, she sat at a desk, pretending to read over the case files she had requested for her dissertation. All the while, she was keeping a close eye on the two older men, but she never stared for too long to draw attention to herself. They, to say the least, intrigued her. Their work was fascinating, and she found herself wondering how it worked.

"Alright, thank you for your time," Hotch said quietly as they excused the family member from their presence. She was too choked up to be much help, but at least they had gotten a sense of what the victim had been like. Vanessa looked up from her papers once more as the sister walked away, and the two agents began to talk amongst themselves.

"Doesn't seem like he'd be a chosen target, " Rossi commented as he watched the woman go. Hotchner glanced at him, before looking down at the file. He nodded a little.

"I know. We won't be able to tell the victim pattern without another body, so we'll have to hope Morgan and Reid find more at the morgue," Aaron said glumly. They both glanced around the police station then, and Rossi's eyes settled on the intern.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking," he asked Hotchner. Aaron looked at him for a moment as his lips pursed slightly.

"That this case won't be a short one," Hotch guessed. Rossi shook his head slightly.

"No, about the girl," he corrected, nodding toward Vanessa's way. Hotch looked at her as she studied the files on her desk carefully. He had a grave expression, but he nodded slightly and gave a soft 'yeah' before he left Rossi's side to meet with their next interviewee.

* * *

Dr. Spencer Reid had become so accustomed to looking at dead bodies over the last 6 years; sometimes he even forgot he was looking at a human being. The thought of life completely escaped him as he examined the coroner's report, or gave his own glance-over of the body. It had become pure science to him. His encounter with Tobias had helped him empathize with victims better, and for a time he truly felt the fear and pain they undoubtedly suffered through.

But with time, the strong understanding he had felt to other victims had ebbed away into reluctant adherence. Although he still had a heart (albeit, a bit estranged), he often had a hard time relating to human emotions or conveying empathy, even when such a reaction was unfathomable to avoid. Even with victims, he again found himself unable to relate. Why that was, he wasn't sure, and for once, he honestly didn't want to know. Perhaps it was because he stopped seeing himself as a victim after several years, or maybe he resented the feeling he'd been given by Hankel's torturing so much, he was no long able to give the sympathy other victims deserved. No matter the reason, Dr. Reid was beginning to become more jaded than ever.

It could even be argued he was now more comfortable around dead bodies than he was around live crowds. Only his team gave him enough comfort to be relaxed and show a little happiness. Any strangers often put him on edge due to his autistic tendencies, and his own horrific experiences with the BAU. Perhaps that was why he was slightly distracted as he examined this man's remains; two new team members would be joining them soon, much sooner than he'd like.

Even with being distracted, his unparalleled mind picked up the slightest details. He could decipher the man had been struck 21 times with the pliers without looking at the autopsy report. He saw the contusions around the head and neck were the worst, meaning they had been delivered with the most force, and probably first, when the unsub had all of his strength. That meant a lot of them had been given post-mortem as well, indicating this killing was an overkill murder.

The slash to the lower abdomen had been clean, and the entire intestinal organ had been removed from the body. They were lying on an opposite table. The overseeing doctor spoke to both he and Morgan, but Spencer was only half listening. He was scrutinizing the intestines now, and realized there were slight incisions on three different parts. Like little tick marks someone makes on a wall to keep score of something, in total, there were 14 of them.

"This is peculiar," Reid commented as he pointed them out. "Do you have any idea what made these?" At the question, the doctor looked at the spot with scrutiny.

"Probably a small scalpel," the doctor concluded. He moved away from the table, dismissing it just as quickly as Reid began to analyze what such a thing could possibly mean. The information was too obscure for the moment, so the answer eluded him. Until he could figure it out, it would remain dormant in his mind to always nag at him.

"There's a lot of anomalies with this case that we haven't seen before, and I don't yet know how they fit together. We're missing a key point," Reid said factually to Morgan. The dark-skinned man sighed heavily, his face contorting with apprehension. They asked the coroner for a copy of the autopsy report, and Reid made a few notes of his own before they left to reconvene with the other BAU members.

* * *

As Spencer and Derek returned to police headquarters, Aaron was just finishing his third interview. Bits and pieces were starting to mold together, and the construction site boss was a potential suspect, or victim. They chose to keep surveillance on him for the time being, but something monumental was missing from the case.

After Reid recounted the strange things done to the body, and gave a quantitative analysis for it, the team began to brainstorm what this might mean about the killer's MO, and what his psychopathy showed in his behavior thus far. Just as they were getting close to something tangible, the phone rang with an important call.

"They've found another body," a policeman came in to tell the team. Everyone immediately assembled and went out to investigate the new crime scene. It was even more heinous than the last. Again, the victim was beaten to death with a blunt object, currently undetermined. The victim's stomach had been slit, his entrails removed, and tied around his neck. Written over the body, in it's own blood, were the same words 'You're Next'.

As Derek called Penelope to pull all background information on both victims, Spencer studied the body. He once again found tally marks on the intestines, and noted there were only 13 marks on this one spanned over 3 different locations. That was a good clue, but very troubling at the same time. Did this mean the unsub was counting down his victims? Aaron dealt with the press, quelling their questions quickly while Rossi figured out how the unsub attacked their victim in the middle of an alleyway in broad daylight. It was awhile before they reconvened at headquarters, but they had a significantly better picture of who they were looking at.

"The unsub is targeting middle aged blue collar workers. They all have average builds and plain features," Rossi began. They were giving their preliminary profile to the whole department, and all staff had been gathered to listen to the delivery. "We believe he is counting down his victims from 14, which means there will be many more if we cannot catch him."

"Because he can get around town with relative ease, and target his victims at any time of day, we believe he is a local of the area. Most likely, he is a middle aged white male, probably disgruntled by his own meager life, so due to his self-hatred, he takes out his aggression on victims that resemble himself," Hotch added on, his face as grave as ever. "We are probably looking for another blue collar worker, so investigate anyone in the labor industry."

"It appears the killings have a religious component to them based on how the entrails are left around the neck, as a sort of offering," Reid hypothesized as he studied the crime scene photos. "Often in ancient Christian religious practices, the blood and innards of livestock were left as a sacrifice for God," the genius said with a little nod of his head, as if agreeing with himself.

Morgan finished the briefing with, "this guy is meticulous, and methodical. Based on the notes he leaves, it means he has a message to send. These victims are very specific to him, and he believes that they know whom he is referring to when he says they're next. He will not stop until he completes his mission, or we catch him. He is suffering from a severe psychosis, though not enough to render him disorganized or nonfunctional. Because he is mission oriented, he will carry this out until the end, and his violence level will only increase as this progresses. Be prepared for worse, more brutal murders if we don't get to him in time."

"Thank you for listening, good luck to you all," Hotchner finished, and the BAU team retreated to the conference room as the police dispersed to being their search. The moment they began to deliberate again, there was a knock on the door. Everyone turned their heads as it opened without waiting for an answer, and a young, attractive girl opened it with a tentative smile on her face.

"Coffee, anyone," she asked politely, though she was only carrying one cup for herself. Two of the team members had already met her, and stared at her rather tersely with a bit of confusion. The other two hadn't had the pleasure yet, and they stared rather dumbly at her for a moment. Spencer tended to be awkward around women; the prettier they were, the more ridiculous he felt. But even Derek lost his smooth charm as he watched her with slightly wide eyes, and an open mouth that had no breath entering his throat.

"Can we help you, Miss Courtez," Rossi asked. The intern let her smile go wry. They certainly didn't dance around their business. All work and no play must be why they all looked so grim and disgruntled all the time. She didn't comment on this though, and played along with them anyway. She knew she wasn't supposed to put in her two cents, especially with the senior agents, but something they said was bothering her.

"I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed your presentation," Vanessa Courtez began calmly. If she complimented them, maybe she'd be able to say what was on her mind without offending them. Sometimes, her opinionated stubbornness and unrelenting sarcasm got her in a good amount of trouble, especially in such a chauvinistic environment. There were no women on this team, which gave her the impression they wouldn't take kindly to a young woman arguing with them.

"I'm sorry, we don't have time for this right now," Hotchner immediately said to deter her from continuing with whatever babble she had. They had work to do, and he was eager to get it finished. She hesitated a moment as he turned away from her so dismissively, but she wouldn't be dissuaded so effortlessly.

"I know, sir," Vanessa said carefully, taking a cautious step forward as the boys continued to stare at her. "I just wanted to say, I agree with your take on the religious aspect…but I think you have the wrong religion," she explained slowly, almost as if she were afraid of getting a backlash from them. Now, she certainly had all of their attention.

"Come again," Hotchner inquired. The look he gave her informed her she better not be playing games, or he'd have her entire future squashed before she even got it running.

"The entrails…I don't think they're being used for a sacrifice. The rest of the crime scene just doesn't speak with the same atmosphere," she began to explain. Her left hand began to tap against the side of her cup, held firmly in her right hand as she continued, "ancient Romans used the entrails of animals to predict the future. They'd clobber the animal over the head, then remove the intestines to tell the future. I thought it might fit better with the note the offender left. He might think the intestines are telling him who to attack next."

"That's a cute theory, but-" Morgan began to say, finally regaining his wits. He was cut off quickly however by an overly excited Reid.

"No, she's right," Spencer began hurriedly. His intent eyes were focused on the board, reviewing the crime scene details he couldn't place, that suddenly all began to make sense. "The slash marks on the intestines, I couldn't figure out what they were before. In Roman and Greek mythology, there are hundreds of gods, but only 14 main ones, all under the rule of the 3 brothers Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. These slashes represent the 14 gods, separated into three parts for each god. He's killing one victim for every god."

"Alright, get the police chief on the phone. I want him updated immediately," Hotchner ordered, and the team sprinted back to work. Morgan called Garcia to find him a lead on any Roman mythology experts in the area that matched the rest of the case details while Rossi called the police inspector and Reid re-read every detail. Meanwhile, Hotchner approached the young intern who interrupted their meeting, and lingered behind as the other men ran off.

"How did you know all of that," he asked her curiously.

"I took several credits in Roman mythology. I loved the ancient cultures, and considered a minor in it…but my double major was too much already, so I stopped after I declared my second major," Vanessa explained modestly. The senior agent nodded at her, and offered a simple, "Good work", before he sauntered off himself.

* * *

Within the next 8 hours, they were able to detain the unsub based off the new profile. Just before he was able to claim another victim, they caught him in his own district of residence. Now that he was in custody, the offender no longer mattered. He was the police stations problem now. As the police processed their latest offender, the BAU regrouped to compile the newly accumulated information within the extensive span of their database.

Each new unsub added new data into their registry, and enabled them to utilize the unique cases they solved to help them solve new ones. The final reports and data analysis would be completed back at headquarters. For now, they were conducting last minute reviews of their notes and the pieces of the case, before packing it all up to ship back to Quantico with them. As the team did this part, Aaron Hotchner pursued one last loose end.

"Excuse me," he said as he stopped at Vanessa's desk. She had been busy writing notes upon a notepad when he approached her, and she was rather shocked to see him once she lifted her head.

"Agent Hotchner…how may I help you?"

"I just wanted to say thank you. You had some good ideas that actually helped us solve this case," Aaron said politely. He felt an odd gurgle in his gut when she smiled so warmly up at him. Clearing his throat a bit, he continued, "I was actually wondering if you were at all interested in the BAU?"

She seemed startled by this. Leaning back in her chair, she stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. The notion sounded too good to be true, but she couldn't deny this was her dream goal. Her stomach began to churn with nervous butterflies, but she refrained from moving in her angst. "Yes, actually. It's been fascinating to watch you all work, and I'd love to join some day," Vanessa said. She felt like she was hanging on a ledge for her dear life as Hotch nodded to her.

"What if you could start today?"

The question nearly blew her away. Suddenly, the whole situation felt very surreal, and she feared she was having an existential out-of-body crisis. She was probably staring for a bit too long, because Hotch gave her an inquisitive look. Blushing slightly, she quickly nodded.

"Yes, that would be wonderful! I have a few more weeks here before I go back to Georgetown University, but I'd love to have a job during school," she said enthusiastically. Hotchner was happy to hear she went to a school so close to Quantico; that would make transfer a lot easier, and less stressful on her. She seemed like an excellent candidate, and joining wouldn't interfere with her graduate schoolwork being so close to Virginia. She probably didn't live that far away from Reid.

"I'll speak to your superior and see to it you get a transfer immediately," Hotchner said to her dismissively. As she thanked him profusely, he walked away to see to it his first recruit was secured. Now, he just had to decide on one more from the shit-pile he had left.

**Author's Note: Well I hope you enjoyed this long explanatory chapter. I'll try to get the next one up soon, but reviews help fuel my motivation ;] Now back to my boyfriend's birthday =P**


	3. Is It Always Like This?

**Author's Note: Hey all, so this next chapter doesn't have a lot of action, but it's a bridge chapter to see how the characters are going to mingle with the new comers. I promise after this one, things will start to pick up in excitement. Just bear with me. I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Criminal Minds or it's fine ass characters. I do own my original characters, and the ideas I make (though they are inspired by the show).**

**Chapter 3:** Is It Always Like This?

A week later, Reid was at his apartment in downtown DC early Monday morning. It wasn't even 5 am yet, and the prodigy was already so restless, he couldn't stop moving about his meticulously clean bedroom. He was so anxious, he felt agitated. Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he paced around his room while fully avoiding looking in the mirror.

The new recruits had been cleared to start, _today_. He usually wasn't this worked up over it, but for some reason, this time he couldn't calm his nerves. There was always some apprehension in his veins when new members joined, but this was to the point of nausea. His hand twitched slightly, and he rubbed it thoroughly with his other one to calm it as he finally looked at himself in the mirror.

He looked worse than a wrecked train. The night had brought him barely any sleep, and it showed in the dark bags beneath his eyes. His face was slightly paler than usual from his fright. Honestly, he reminded himself of a tweaker itching for their next fix. He hadn't looked so bad since he _had _been a drug addict so many years ago. Slapping the side of his face lightly from the loss he felt, he swiftly left his room to put on a pot of coffee. Hopefully it'd help him look more awake (for he already felt wired), and feel a bit better too.

As he waited for the coffee to be done, he washed his face with cool water. It helped soothe his nerves, for a moment. Then, he remembered exactly who was joining them. One was a fellow FBI agent Hotchner had picked out of Strauss' suggestions, whom had been looking for a transfer into the BAU for years. He was a 35 year old man, older than him, but younger than Morgan and Garcia. He could be annoying, might try to assert his dominance and establish himself in their hierarchy; Reid always got the short end of that stick being the skinny genius boy. It didn't bother him much though; he knew his place in the BAU and he was comfortable with that. Not to mention, the others were more than just protective over him.

The other was a 24-year-old woman whom they had met on their case in Camden, New Jersey. He let out an unsteady breath as he braced his shaking hands against the sink. This woman had helped him piece together a part of the puzzle that escaped him; she had no part in their case, and she had seen something he hadn't. He felt threatened by her, but not because he feared she was smarter than him. Even a blind man could tell she was attractive, and although she wasn't his usual type with blond hair and light eyes, there was something about her beauty that unsettled him. In addition to that, he knew she was highly intelligent. What more did she have to render him useless?

Sighing, he reached for the towel and dried his face off just as the beeper on the coffee pot went off. How long had he been standing in the bathroom? Placing the towel down, he returned to the kitchen and poured himself a steaming cup of coffee. He added a little milk, and 3 spoonfuls of sugar. As he stirred it all together, he sat down at his kitchen table and stared at the wall in another trance.

_'What's wrong with me? Why am I so nervous_,' he thought in loss. He finished his coffee slowly, and took his time making a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. He took an even longer time to eat it; his stomach was so unsettled, he had to chew slowly, and swallow painfully. As he showered afterward, he let the warm water sooth his terse muscles. None of it quelled his stomach, but he felt a bit more composure as he dressed for work in beige slacks. When he got to his shirt, it actually took him longer to pick one out than usual. Never one to be finicky, he suddenly found himself unable to simply grab a shirt and throw it on. He wanted to look good, yet he didn't understand why, nor really know what that entailed.

He finally settled on a simple blue dress shirt, and a dark blue sleeveless sweater vest to wear over it with a matching tie. It didn't instill confidence in him, and he felt a bit deflated as he collected his things, and finally left his apartment for work. The drive to work was agonizingly long, and he fidgeted a few times in his seat at red lights or stop signs. He was earlier than usual today, but only by 10 minutes. It relieved him slightly; he was happy to have more time alone in the office to situate himself.

As he was unpacking his things at his desk, a few other agents were passing by the glass doors to their part of the building. He took no notice to the background noise, so he didn't realize when someone quietly opened the door behind him to enter the room. Reid had started to glance over the paperwork he pulled out of the bag as the silent person approached him from behind.

"Excuse me," a soft, slightly high-pitched voice asked. The genius practically jumped out of his skin as he flinched badly. He dropped his stack of papers to the floor as a twitchy yelp left him. When he turned to see who it was, he was immediately filled with both dread and relief. It was Vanessa. He felt his stomach drop when she looked at him with slightly widened doe eyes.

"Y-you shouldn't sneak up on people like that," Spencer Reid scolded lightly, though his voice lacked any hostility or conviction. His eyes darted around the floor nervously for a moment, before he knelt over to collect his papers. Vanessa had stopped walking, and watched him with curiosity, and mild shock. There was a small half-smile on her face though.

"I'm sorry," she said with a soft laugh accompanying her words. Immediately, she took a few hasty steps forward, and knelt down to help him pick his papers up. "I was just trying to find out if I was in the right place, is all," she added as she picked some files up. She noticed he became a bit more hectic as he rashly pulled all his papers to him.

"You're in the right place," Spencer answered curtly. "Could you please?" He said briskly, flicking one of his hands at her several times. She jerked her head back slightly as he motioned for his papers sitting in her hand. She held both her hands out so he could snatch them from her. She let out a half chuckle at him slightly; he certainly had a lot of ticks to set him off. Instead of insulting her, it actually intrigued her. She rose slowly as he rose quickly.

Quietly, she watched him reset the papers upon his desk, and her head tilted slightly as he blatantly ignored her to finish setting up his workspace. _'What a strange man,'_ she thought curiously. She ignorantly continued to stare at him, watching his every move with a hawk's attention until he finally snapped. He was scrupulous about every corner of every paper lining up, sitting in the right place on the desk, and he even rearranged the files to what she could only assume had been their proper order before they had been dropped.

"Are you going to keep staring," he said uncomfortably. His head jerked to look at her finally, and she could see how anxious he really was. Was that why he didn't want to look at her? Either he was a very nervous man, or she was making him feel this uneasy. By how awkward he seemed, she could guess he wasn't very good at talking to woman. Despite his shortness, she still smiled a little. It was sweet, and apologetic in nature.

"I'm just not sure where to start. It's my first day and all, and I haven't been given a desk or anything yet," Vanessa explained in a delicate voice. It was then that Reid noticed how rude he was being. He straightened up a little, and seemed to really look at her for the first time. The glance over only took a moment, and his eyes merely flickered from side to side, but he absorbed every detail about her in that instant. Her auburn hair had been meticulously straightened; there wasn't even a crease in it anywhere, and it shined magnificently, even in false light. Her eyebrows were finely done, giving her eyes an everlasting mischievous glare to them. She dressed well, but modest today; long black pants upon her legs with plain black heels, a white fitted dress shirt and a black blazer to match the pants. She looked like she walked straight out of a fashion catalog, though she was a little too short to be a model. Even with heels on, she barely passed the bottom of his chest.

"Why are you even here so early," Spencer abruptly questioned. He was beginning to lack the harsh anxiety in his voice, though he still sounded rather rushed to Vanessa. Her arched brows lifted up slightly.

"I didn't know how long it would take to get here using public transportation, so I played it safe and took the early train," she explained calmly. "I could ask you the same thing, you know," she countered, a bit more sharply than she intended to. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"I wanted…to…avoid…traffic?" he said, though it sounded a bit more like he was asking the question of himself, since his voice kept rising in pitch, yet getting quieter with each word spoken. It was her turn to wrinkle her forehead at him, brows knitting together as one quirked a bit in question. Spencer blinked rapidly a few times, but held his frame from twitching more than that. Clearing his throat a little, he added, "it's better to be even one minute early than late. One can never predict what happens on the road from DC to Quantico."

Vanessa snorted at him. "Something tells me you could," she commented coyly.

"What," Spencer practically scoffed. "I know statistics. Although they allow an accurate estimation of what may happen, they can't depict with total certainty whether something will or will not happen. Washington D.C. currently has the highest rate of car collisions in the country, with drivers averaging a car accident every five point one years. That means the likelihood of an accident occurring in D.C is ninety-five point five percent greater than the national average. The national average is only one accident every ten years for each driver. This means, statistically, I am more likely to run into traffic due to a car accident leaving my house from work than anywhere else, so I always calculate that into my driving time. Plus, beating the morning traffic means I, personally, will be less likely to be in a car accident myself since less people are out before 8 am," Spencer said quickly. He had rambled far more than he expected, but he finally felt some comfort returning to the topic of statistics.

Vanessa stared at the Doctor as he nodded to her a little. At first, he had been quite put off to have her even in the same room with him, and suddenly, he couldn't shut up for the life of him. The moment their conversation turned to facts, it was like he couldn't shut them off. _Her_ mind began to process the reason behind his comfort with statistics, rather than concentrating on digesting the facts themselves. When she didn't say anything as she continued to blink at him, Spencer fidgeted slightly. He cleared his throat slightly, and felt compelled to continue in the awkward silence he felt surrounding them.

"Did you know that the-" he began, but someone else's voice cut him off before he could get going again.

"Reid. Are you scaring away the new recruits with your big brain already," Morgan said playfully as he strode into the office. He glanced at Spencer with a half smile before his head tilted stylishly to look down at the new girl. "He hasn't bored you to tears yet, has he," the man asked in a sincere voice. His facial expression gave away that he wasn't really concerned for her, but picking on the timid Dr. Reid. Vanessa offered her own smirk to Derek.

"No, but try again later. I might be bored of staring at your chiseled face," she said sweetly. She batted her eyelashes a few times flirtatiously as her smiled widened a little. She tilted her head slightly as Morgan broke out in a surprised chuckle.

"Ouch…Ice Queen. Good thing that's not actually possible," Morgan teased, practically singing the last part in his usual cocky way. He patted his own cheeks in an adoring manner as he strut by toward his desk. He smiled a bit more when Vanessa giggled at him. "Now that's a smile that could light up the whole world," Morgan added, pointing to her adorable face in a lighthearted manner before he turned to his workstation. He fought off the urge to check if she was blushing as he unpacked his messenger bag.

Reid suddenly felt like a third wheel, and it bothered him far more than he could comprehend. He stood awkwardly for a moment before his brows lifted a bit and he opened his mouth to engage Derek into a conversation. Before he could get the words out however, he was again pushed into the background when a disgruntled Penelope came storming up to Derek. Instantly, she flicked him in the back of the head with her feathery-ended pen. When he yelped out and turned to ask her what the hell, she pointed one of her pink nails in his face.

"That comment better have been directed at me," Garcia said testily, her full face in a profuse pout. Her eyes twinkled with slight anger. Morgan opened his mouth, and stuttered out an incoherent syllable. His smooth charm had been completely taken aback by Garcia's sudden intrusion. He knew she was territorial over him; usually, he enjoyed it, but it wasn't the greatest impression to pose on newbies. Before he could get a word out, Garcia had swiftly turned around and took a few steps toward the new girl. Her fuzzy pen came out to point at the younger girl forebodingly.

"You better not have your eyes on my goods, little mama, hm? Cause I can tell you, I won't go down without a fight," Garcia said, a slightly wide, manic look in her eyes. Vanessa couldn't help but stare with wide eyes. She held her hands up in surrender to Garcia.

"I have no intentions of…stealing your goods," the younger woman said defensively. Her gaze shifted to Morgan as he leaned over Garcia's shoulder, and gave an impish grin.

"Hey, baby girl. You know there's enough of me to go around," he said huskily. He laughed when Garcia whipped around and smacked him in the arm with her pen again.

"Don't get ahead of yourself hot stuff. I have seniority," she chided him. Then, she turned away from him and stuck her chin up snootily and went to walk away. Before she truly left, she stopped by Vanessa to give her another meaningful glare. "I'm watching you," she warned, "and I don't miss a thing!"

Vanessa watched Garcia walk away to retreat into her cave of wonder. Something told her she had just gotten on a wanted list, and that Garcia meant to have her blood if she made a wrong move. The problem was she hadn't even done anything. Blinking after Penelope, Vanessa turned her head to glance back at Morgan. He shrugged a little to her as he placed his bag down next to his chair.

"She's a bit protective, but once you're accepted into the family, she'll lighten up," Morgan explained briefly. He was looking forward to the beginning stages of this. It always thrilled him to have new pretty faces around. Finally, Reid cleared his throat to bring his presence back into the world. It wasn't like him to want to be noticed, and he usually didn't mind being in the background until he had something to say. But now, he felt perturbed to be invisible.

"So Morgan, looks like I'm not the kid of the family anymore," he tried for light banter. He nodded a little toward Vanessa, his entire body going with the motion as his brows lifted suggestively, and his shoulders shrugged his hands resting in his pants' pockets. Vanessa held a small smile. His mannerism was strange, but she found it to be rather adorable. Her attention was brought away from him when Morgan snorted.

"Nah, you'll always be the kid around here pretty boy," Morgan said. At the meager glare he received from Reid, Morgan let a half chuckle out, and turned his smiling face away from the two babies of the group.

"Courtez," a stern voice suddenly called. Vanessa whipped around to the authoritative sound to see Agent Hotchner staring at her very sternly. She was silent in her greeting and he nodded toward her. "Follow me," he ordered as he walked passed. He didn't bother to say good morning to the others; they were used to his melancholy behavior by now, and did not expect such a greeting.

When they were safely in his office, Aaron dropped his briefcase and sat down in his chair. He motioned to the seat across from it, and Vanessa took it wordlessly. She waited patiently for him to speak, and luckily he didn't leave her on edge for too long.

"Your desk will be the unoccupied one by Morgan. It's been emptied for you, so you can settle in as soon as you like. Since you're not a full FBI agent yet, you will be under the protection of another agent at all times in the field. You can shadow a different agent every case to see the different angles we work a case from. This will last until you complete the FBI academy training. Do you think you can manage during your doctorate program," he asked of her.

"Probably not until winter; things slow down around the holidays, so I can do the training around then," she spoke truthfully. It made her a little nervous it would disqualify her for the job, but Hotch simply nodded.

"Then you'll have to be supervised until then. Most of your work will entail the paper work, and anything around the stations we visit. Field time will have to be limited to when one of our agents is willing to keep an eye on you," he explained as he unpacked his own workload from his bags. As he organized his desk, he continued, "For your studies, we can offer you any resources we have, and I'm sure I speak for the team when I say if there is any way we can help, just ask. Do you have any questions?"

"Yeah actually….is it always like this around here?" The moment Vanessa asked this, Garcia burst into Hotch's office. The look on her face resembled a frightful doe caught in a hunter's headlights.

"Case just came in. It's a big one, my liege. I'm preparing the conference room as we speak," she said frantically. When he nodded his head curtly to her, she swiftly left the room, but not before throwing a pursed glare at Vanessa. Hotchner's own lips pursed slightly as his gaze returned to the young intern.

"Yeah…it's pretty much always like this."

**Author's Note: So I hope you enjoyed the banter even though a lot didn't happen. I just wanted to give you all an update! Next chapter will be a lot more exciting I promise. Please review, whether you liked it or not, I enjoy the feedback and it gives me motivation to write, as well as giving me insight on what I should/shouldn't do. Till next time 3 **


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