Beautiful Things

It was Nicole. The phone call came in only a few hours after the murder, unlike the first time. The FBI had a way of getting anything they asked for. I liked having them here. This case would be solved ten times quicker.

I routinely checked in with them in case there was anything they needed. Also I updated them with any new information we had. This morning it was another tape I brought to them. Jaime.

Morgan closed his eyes and shook his head. Prentiss breathed in deeply and looked around the room. Reid loosened his jaw. Rossi frowned. Hotch didn't move a muscle.

"Another one already?" Morgan groaned.

"I think he's been saving them up," I said, "Like he's been stalking these girls and then he began killing them. What if the girls he's going to kill have already been determined?"

I honestly had no idea what the hell I was talking about, but I wanted to make an effort to help. I know it's their jobs, but this was my department. This was my town to protect, and I wasn't going to just sit back while this lunatic was on the loose. I wanted in.

"We should warn everyone," Prentiss suggested, "We should hold a press conference."

"Warn them about what?" Hotch asked. "We don't know how he chooses them or how he abducts them."

"Well, let's find out," Rossi insisted determinedly. "What do the victims have in common?"

"They're both women?" I pointed out, attempting to be helpful. "Besides that--"

"Blue eyes," Reid interrupted, studying the pictures on the whiteboard. "They both have blue eyes and medium length hair, though the colour is slightly different."

"But basically they're both brunettes," I added, quickly recovering from him showing me up.

"Yeah," he agreed, staring at me.

I smiled like I had no idea what I was doing, though I clearly was trying to get under his skin. Something about know-it-alls erked me, but maybe I was biased because of Rory. It probably was because of Rory, actually.

"So it's likely the stresser was something to do with a woman with medium brown hair and blue eyes," Prentiss said.

"A wife? A girlfriend?" Morgan shot in the dark.

"Could be a mother," Hotch included, "Because of the state of the bodies, it's hard to tell if sexual assault took place."

"We know he's a sadist," Rossi spoke as he took another look at the pictures.

"But what made him act on it?" I asked softly, trying to make my way into the conversation.

They shot back and forth so quickly it was hard to keep up. One thought after another. They worked quick, quicker than any of my officers could think.

"That's what we need to find out," Reid replied. "Is he killing in the alleys or is that just a dumping site?" he quickly jumped to the next question.

"Could be either," Prentiss retorted, "Anything's possible with a killer."



Morgan stood at the coffee machine, waiting patiently. His shirt fitting absolutely perfectly over his defined muscles. He made my officers look like children.

"Hi," I said sweetly as I stood beside him.

He smiled genuinely as he noticed me. "Hey."

"So that genius of yours?" I referred to Reid.

"Yeah, that kid's something else, huh?" Morgan said humorously.

"Well he sure is smart."

"You're feeling inferior to him, aren't you?"

"Damn, you're a good profiler," I laughed, then I became a little more serious, "How do you stand it?"

Morgan just shrugged. The coffee was done and he poured himself a cup. "I just do," was his reply, and then he returned to the media room. I still was confused, though. There was something about Dr. Reid that I just couldn't put my finger on, and it seriously bothered me.

Then there was part of me worrying about Jaime, whoever she was. The girl in the video looked the youngest so far. She did have brown hair, medium length, and blue eyes, all the traits our killer loved, but she was not a victim yet. I hated knowing we couldn't save her.

The day went on with the BAU trying to piece this insane puzzle together. I watched them closely, but Jaime was still stuck in the back of my mind. And Reid. He was there, too, sort of. I studied him as he worked, though he was completely oblivious of me thankfully. I would be mortified if he had caught me.

The end of the day came soon, and the profilers were leaving to head to their hotel rooms. I decided I should be heading home, too. My spacious, empty penthouse must be missing me. I sighed thinking of the hollow rooms that were in store.

I parked on the street and headed for the entrance. A horrid smell caught my attention and I felt like vomiting. I knew exactly what it was. Panic didn't happen to me. Instead bravery took control and pushed me into the alley beside my building. I didn't like being alone, but I liked this even less.

The streetlights clearly outlined the silhouette of a body. The face was scratched out. A cornucopia of blood was present. I took out my cell phone from my pocket and reluctantly dialed Hotch's number. I felt terrible for having to, since it was so late.

"Hey Hotch," I said, "He's killing faster."