Make It out Alive

"She won't talk to a man," I told Hotch. "She'll play with you then seal up like a clam."

"Get in there," he told me, not looking away from her.

"Make her wait first. She's not used to waiting. She'll get shifty." Her makeup was a mess, her hair was tangled, and she wasn't touching her glass of water. One high heeled foot was crossed over the other, jiggling nervously. Without another word, I went to get a cup of coffee.

When I came back, I went into the interogation room and sat down across from her. She wasn't just "The UnSub" anymore. Amelie Smith. "Hello, Amelie. I'm Special Agent Bryson."
"Hullo," she said, trying for a confident smile.

"Do you know why you're here, Amelie?" I asked casually.
"Yes," she whispered.

"Why don't you tell me about them? Starting with Ryan Jonas," I invited.

"He was a pig! He left his girlfriend to sleep around. He deserved what he got," she hissed.

"What did he get?" I asked, leaning forward.

"The same disease I got, and then he got his heart and dick put in the right places. And I loved it!"

"How did you kill them, Amelie?" I pressed.

"I tied them up, and they just thought I was into kinky sex, the bastards. Then, I slept with them, and after we were done, I got a butcher knife from my nightstand and cut off their diseased penis. Then while they were screaming and bleeding, I cut into the chest. The sternum was hard to get through, but with a bit of work, I could. Then I cut out their so called heart. You know they don't have one. They love with their penis," she hissed, working herself into a frenzy. She took a deep breath and continued. "Then I stabled their penis in their hearts place and vice versa. They were hard to carry out, but I dumped them outside the same bar I found them. They were a warning for any other guy who was trying for a one night stand."

"You're done in there, Bryson. Good work. Everything else is legal stuff," Hotch said in my ear.

"Thanks for talking with me, Amelie," I said, standing.

"You're welcome, Special Agent Bryson. That guy I was with when I was arrested. If he wasn't in the FBI, he still wouldn't have gone home with me. You and him looked cute together," she said thoughtfully, waving.

I blinked and continued on my way out. Derek high-fived me. "That was awesome. Now let's go home."
*****

"So how about that magic?" I asked Spencer. We were the only two on the plane awake. Hotch was sprawled in uncomfortable looking position on a couch, Gideon and Derek sitting across from eachother, sleeping in their seats, and JJ was asleep on the couch across from Hotch. They had decided to sleep when we were told that we had a long delay because of awful weather at Quantico.

"What do you want to see?" He asked, turning to look at me better.

"Whatever you're willing to show me," I answered with a smile.

He smiled. "Let me get a deck of ca-" he stopped talking as cards spilled out of his mouth. I giggled.

"Pick a card," he offered. I took the sixth one. "Don't let me see it, look at it, then put it over your heart."

I looked; Ace of hearts, then put it over my heart.

"Is this your card?" He asked, showing me the queen of diamonds. I shook my head. "Hmm. What about this one?" The nine of clubs.

"Nope."

"One more try," he said with a happy twinkle in his eyes. "This is your card," he declared, showing me the three of spades.

I giggled. "Sorry, Spence."

"Oh well, this may not be your card, but I'm sure it'll make you smile," he said, making a lily appear.

I grinned in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"A good magician never reveals his secrets," he teased, tucking the flower behind my ear.

"Show me another?" I asked.

"Sure, but I think there's something in your flower," he said, reaching behind it and pulling out the ace of hearts. I looked at the card I was still holding over my heart, finding that it had become the king of spades.

I gasped and giggled. "Will you teach me a trick?"

"Maybe," he teased.

"Not fair," I pouted. He chuckled.

"Wanna see another trick?" he asked.

"Obviously."

"Close your eyes and count to ten, then open them," he instructed. I did as he said, and when I opened them, I found him sitting next to me again with a cup of water.

"What did I miss?" I asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted some water, but I wanted to make it seem like a trick," he joked. "Oh dear!" he cried, fumbling with the glass. It turned upside down, but no water spilled out. "No harm done." He took a sip from the bottom of the glass.

"You didn't get any water like that," I remarked doubtfully.

"Oh yeah? Take a sip," he offered. I accepted the glass and tried to drink. To my surprise, I got a swallow of cold, clean water.

"How- It's a trick glass," I accused.

"How could it be? It's one of the one's on the plane," he said, showing me the FBI crest. I blinked.

"That's damn good magic," I murmered. He laughed.

For the rest of the flight, he continued to show me tricks.

"You still know more, don't you?" I asked.

"Of course" he said as we walked into the bullpin.

I yawned. "Man, I really don't want to do my report tonight."

"I'm not. I'm doing it in the morning," Derek said.

"I think I'll do the same," Spencer said, setting his stuff down at his desk.

"See you guys in the morning, then!" I called cheerfully, walking out.

When I got to my car, I sat and put the key in the ignition. When it refused to start, I started to swear. I got out and looked under the hood.

Derek and Spencer walked out and stood on either side of me. "Dead battery?" Derek asked.

"I got a new battery a week ago," I answered, frustration growing. I yawned again.

I slammed the hood down and kicked my old Honda. "You are such a lemon," I told it.

"Where do you live, one of us can take you home," Derek offered.

I gave them my address, and Derek frowned. "Exact opposite direction I'm going."

"It's only a few doors down from me," Reid said quietly.

"Would you mind terribly to give me a ride home?" I asked.

"It wouldn't be a problem," he said.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, collecting my stuff from my car. He plucked my bag and jacket from my arms and carried them himself while he lead the way to an unremarkable red sedan.

When he started the engine, we both jumped as Bob Dylan came on loudly. "I'm sorry!" He yelped, turning it down.

I laughed. "Don't worry about it."

We rode in comfortable silence for awhile. "I'm sure Melinda's already come by and given you the welcome to the neighborhood speech," he commented.

I chuckled. Melinda was an older woman who brought a loaf of fresh made bread over the day I moved in. "She's quite the character."

"She nearly gave me a heartattack when she gave me that speech. I had just got in from Las Vegas and was living out of a suitcase when this frenzied lady with gray hair nearly knocks my door down," he chuckled.

"I'm in the only house with a turquoise door," I said, pointing to my new townhouse. "That pretty much sold me on the house."

He chortled. "Melinda was scared that because of the color it wouldn't sell."

He pulled up to the curb and then as I gathered my bag and jacket, he opened my door for me. I grinned gratefully up at him as I got out. He walked me to the door.

"Would you like to come in?" I offered, knowing my stuff was in boxes, but also knowing Spencer probably wouldn't care too much.

"Sure," he said with a shy smile. I fumbled with my keys, and dropped them. We both bent down to get them, and our hands brushed as he nudged them closer to my hand.

After I finally got the door open, I lead him through the dark house into the kitchen, the only room completely unpacked.

"When everything's unpacked, I'll give you a tour," I said with a smile. He nodded, looking around.

"Did you paint yourself?" he asked.

"Did I do that terrible a job?" I joked. My kitchen was green with small white specks covering one wall.

"I like it," he said appreciatively.

"Want something to drink?" I offered.

"Water would be nice."

I went into the nearly bare fridge and got two bottles of water, handing him one before perching myself ontop of the counter.

"So, Dr. Reid," I teased. "You never told me your favorite author."

"I don't think I really have one," he said thoughtfully.

"Do you have a favorite book?"

He shook his head. "Not really."

I huffed lightly. "What was the first book you read?"

"A book on mechanical engineering," he answered with a shrug.

I blinked. "That certainly shows up my Dr. Seuss."

"Dr. Seuss?" He asked, cocking his head.

"You've never read Dr. Seuss?" I asked, shocked.

He shook his head, and I sighed, laughing.