Make Me Smile

I woke up to the alarm on my phone going off. I groaned knowing it was time to get up and get ready. I lazily rolled out of the comfortable bed grabbed my duffel bag that contained a change of clothes, making my way to the bathroom to take a shower. After standing for 10 minutes under the warm and relaxing water, I got out feeling somewhat more awake and dried myself off, wrapping my hair in a towel. I quickly changed into a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a plain white button up shirt. I turned to face the mirror. My face was pale and I had bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep. I covered them up with concealer and went to apply a light eye shadow along with eyeliner and mascara. The little make up worked wonders and I looked much better than I felt. I quickly packed my clothes from the previous day in the duffel bag. There was a knock on the door just when I finished putting on a pair of beige heels on.

I rushed to open it to reveal Spencer who looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

“Hey everyone is waiting in the lobby, are you ready?” he asked me with a tired smile.

“Yeah just a second,” I told him while grabbing my bag and phone from the bed and joined him in the hall after closing the door.
We met up with everyone and drove to the Police Department.

“We have an undercover car for each of your teams and the entire damn department out there,” informed us Captain Griffith the moment we walked in.

“Remember it might be a truck, maybe a work truck,”reminded him Gideon. Griffith nodded stating that everyone was aware of that.

“Alright, he might make a mistake today. He is angry and he probably hasn’t done the kind of surveillance he likes,” said Hotch.

“Well neither did we,”stated Morgan motioning for Reid to go with him.

“Alexa you will come along with me,” said Gideon and we made our way to one of the undercover cars, driving to the last crime scene.

“That’s the last place he watched. That house,” he said referring to the un-sub, as he parked near the last home the un-sub has attacked, where we could watch the house.

“Morgan said the family hasn’t moved back in.” I recalled from what Derek has told me yesterday.

“And probably never will.” He let out a sigh.

“The eyes,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I wondered if I had heard him right.

“The eyes, Alexa. There is something not right about the eyes.” He was still confused about why the un-sub glued his victims eyes wide open.

“If you mean what he does to them, yeah I agree.”

“No. It’s somewhat a classic move for a exploitative rapist to force his victims to watch,” carried on Gideon.

“But?” I questioned waiting for him to explain further. He turned to face me.

“We are missing something about it.” A patrol car pulled up to us. The officer asked whether we needed something. Gideon said that we were from the FBI and flashed him his badge. He officer nodded and drove off. Gideon said that the patrolling was increased after the first four murders, and then even doubled after the fifth.

“Yet the un-sub still watched the houses,” I said, looking around the street.

“How he cannot have been seen?” wondered Gideon as he looked out his window. I heard birds chirping, so I looked up to where the sounds where coming from. A bird sat on one of the telephone wires.

“Is that an oriole?” I asked, not sure about the bird’s name. He squinted his eyes to get a better look at the bird

“No. A black-headed grosbeak,” he said as a second one sat down on the wire.

“What kind is that?”

“Grosbeak, too. Female,” he smiled at the two birds,

“Orson Welles said all the birds that belong to our sex have prettier feathers, 'cause males have got to try to justify their existence. We spend all our time screaming, Look at me. Look at me’.” My phone rang as he finished. It was Garcia.

“Yes?” I answered my phone. She told me that she couldn’t get a fix on the call because it was routed to 25 different sub-stations. I told the newly acquired information to Gideon. He got out of the car walking towards the house. I swiftly got out as well and followed him.

“He wanted them to see him,” he said.

“We established that,” I answered shrugging on my navy FBI jacket. I was confused to why he repeated what we already knew. He opened the door with a key and we walking in, going up the stairs.

“He is meticulous,” began to explain Gideon as we entered the room, where the woman was murdered,

“Nothing is on accident. The scene is about domination. His creation. He positioned everything exactly the way he wanted it.” He climbed on the mattress of the bed.

“And?” I waited for him to continue.

“If the eyes were so they would watch the attack. Why are they all facing away from it?” he questioned, positioning himself the way the victim was found.

“In that position they couldn’t see him during, he wanted them to see them afterward.” I notices that in this position the victim must have been looking outside the window, were the telephone wires were. It then clicked. The guy must be working for the phone repair company. I immediately dialed Garcia’s number.

“Office of Unfettered Omniscience. Penelope Garcia is in. Speak, oh fortunate one,” answered Garcia on the second ring.

“Garcia, it's Alexa. Can you get into the phone repair records in San Diego?” I asked her walking down the staircase.

“Sunshine, I can run CentCom from here and still participate in simultaneous Tetris tournaments.”

“I’m looking for repairmen cross-reference with the murders in San Diego.” As I waited for Garcia to find any information.

“Franklin Graney.”

“Got it thanks.” I hung up and shared this with Gideon. Gideon called Hotch to tell him that the un-sub was a phone technician. He talked to him for a few moments explaining how easily the un-sub could blend in without being spotted. After I got another call this time from Morgan, informing us of the whereabouts of Franklin Graney. Hotch must have called Derek before and told him to check out the repair company.

Gideon and I got into the car and drove to Orange and Chandler Streets, where we found the truck. Hotchner was already there with Prentiss. We split up to check the backyards for the un-sub. Gideon ordered me to stay close to him, seeing that I did not have a gun yet. It would have been dangerous for me to go on my own. In case I ran into the murderer.

As we ran through the back of the houses we could hear faint creams of a baby. We rushed into the house through the backdoor. I saw a technician's tool belt on the counter and pointed it out to Gideon. He notified Hotch, giving him the address of the house. He motioned me to follow and proceeding up the stairs with his gun already drawn. As we walked into the room, Franklin was standing behind the woman holding a gun to her head.

“I’ll shoot her.”

“No you won’t, Franklin,” negated Gideon. I stayed back by the door.

“Yes I will.”

“If you hurt her, I will kill you. I’ll just say we caught a low-level burglar. You didn’t turn out to be Tommy after all. He will remain uncaught,” said Gideon, moving closer in on the un-sub.

“After a while people will forget and you will be nothing. Every five years I will do an interview and say ‘what happened to that Tommy guy? Why did he disappear?’ And then everyone will stop talking about it altogether.” Franklin seemed to be thinking about this. After all, he wanted to be known for his murders.

“Put the gun down.” Ordered him Gideon, as he continued to try and talk Franklin out of killing the woman.

“C’mon. Walk out of here with me. I’ll make sure your face will be flashed across every newspaper and TV in the country. Tommy Killer: Franklin Graney. Everyone will see you then. Bundy, Dahmer, Graney. The whole world will know who you are,” he continued to negotiate.

“It’s up to you Franklin. You can be famous, or you can be invisible.” Franklin seemed somewhat unsure.

“You will tell everyone?” he questioned.

“I have a media specialist outside right now,” reassured him Gideon, “It is your choice.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” Gideon nodded his head as he said that. Franklin looked at the tied up woman before dropping his gun on the bed next to her. Gideon ordered him to step away from the gun. Franklin raised his hands behind his head and did as he was told. At this moment Hotchner rushed into the room with Prentiss close behind. He handcuffed Franklin. As he did so I rushed to the woman and carefully took off the tape that was covering her mouth. She started to cry out for her baby.

“He is fine,” assured her Emily. The woman sobbed, thanking us repeatedly. Gideon helped me untie her and I gave her a robe to cover up. The police arrived soon so our team was free to go.

“Good thinking,” told me Hotch referring to how I have figured out the workplace of the murderer.

“Thanks, but I wish I could have been more of help.” I sighed mentioning how I could have been a burden, just because I would have not been able to protect myself if it came to drastic measures.

“Don't worry about it. Besides we will get you a gun soon. You just need to take a test to get cleared.” He smiled, which was a rare gesture on his behalf.
Once we were on the jet on the way back home to Quantico, everyone went to do their own things.

Prentiss fell asleep, Morgan was listening to music, J.J and Hotch were reading through some documents regarding the now closed case and Gideon and Reid were playing chess. I sat parallel to Reid, reading a novel. But I occasionally would watch them play to see who was winning. After Gideon won for the third time he got up to get a drink and Reid changed his seats and sat across from me.

“Hey,” he greeted me shyly. I marked the page I was reading and set my book down, facing him.

“Hi,” I smiled at him. He looked like he wanted to ask something but hesitated. I chuckled.

“Spencer, spit out whatever you want to say.” He blushed in embarrassed.

“I, um, I was,…was, um,” he was stumbling over his words.

“Go on.” I gave him another smile, encouraging him to go on. It seemed to work, because he tried to ask me again.

“Well, I, uh was wondering. If maybe you wanted, uh, go to out for dinner with me once we get back?”he asked averting his gaze. I was startled for a moment. I did not expect him to ask me out, even if it was probably not a date. He seemed to take my silence as a ‘no’ and got up. He was about to walk away, but I quickly grabbed his hand stopping him.

“I would love to,” I told him sincerely. He smiled, blushing, and sat back down.

“So, what were you reading?” he asked referring to my book, making small talk. We end up talking for the rest of the flight. And just like back at the hotel Spencer was completely relaxed and comfortable in my presence.