Ineffable - S.REID

13

・゜゜・．THREE MONTHS LATER .・゜゜・

Clara, Hotch and JJ arrived on the scene of a murder in San Francisco which was currently suspected to be the work of the Zodiac killer. During the plane journey, without Spencer to talk to, she had taken it upon herself to delve into the various publications that featured the work of the Zodiac. She near enough memorized every tiny detail and noticed patterns in every single crime scene that were not that well documented. So as they arrived on the scene, she instantly pulled on her gloves and began her deep dive search. "Davia?" Hotch called as she opened the glove box on the passenger side, without so much as greeting the detective behind the yellow tape.

"Pattern checking," she responded quickly before turning out the conversation that followed, allowing herself to focus completely on what was going on within and near the car. She looked over every single marked piece of evidence, taking special consideration with the small unmarked things that didn't seem like they'd amount to anything. The secrets were usually hidden there after all.

Clara managed to pull herself away from the scene after staring at a hairband left in the passenger side for a little bit too long. Her brow raised at the sudden appearance of Spencer and Prentiss, both of which smiled at her upon noticing her sudden acknowledgement of their existence. Hotch however noticed the look on her face and how her demeanor had changed in almost a second. He knew that she had found something but decided not to ask about it until the detective left, figuring she would feel more comfortable if it was just the BAU and she didn't have to explain how she knew what she did. They all just knew to roll with it and trust her word, like they did Spencer most of the time.

She moved to stand in between Prentiss and Spencer, staying out of the way of Hotch and the Detectives discussion. "How'd it go?" she asked softly as to not interrupt too much.

"Great," he smiled brightly and for a second she found herself convinced, until he continued. "Enlightening."

She frowned, a subtle concern tugging down her brow, "That doesn't sound good."

Hotch however interrupted any response that could have occurred, placing their previous question on the backburner at an instant. "Davia, notes?"

"It's not the real Zodiac," she responded softly so others did not overhear, this was not something they would want in the papers just yet.

"How can you be so sure?" JJ asked the question on everyone's mind but Spencers, who just nodded and knew that she was right anyway.

"Based on what I've read and seen of the scene pictures, there are certain discrepancies that just don't correlate," she paused, double checking that she was in fact correct within her mind quickly. "If I gambled, I'd bet that cloth was nearly brand new and just distressed artificially."

-

 "You don't want to go out for your birthday?" Clara asked Spencer in almost bewilderment as they walked up the steps up to the police precinct. She had not really expected anything different but thought that maybe he would want to go out for dinner or a movie or something just different from his usual routine.

"I usually just watch a movie or read at home," Spencer shrugged, not really feeling like his birthday was that big of a deal as it hadn't been since he attended university.

"Well I'm at least baking you a cake," she insisted and he knew she would not take no for an answer. He, deep down, did like that she made the effort. "People and their claims to fame..." she sighed deeply and frowned at the crowd of reporters and just people surrounding a man spouting lies about how his cousin was likely the killer due to a load of nonsense. The crowd blocked the door, people so dense that there was no clear path through them all. If there was one thing that her time undercover had imprinted on her mind, crowds like that were just far too dangerous to even enter. She stopped just shy of the outside of the crowd and Morgan stayed with her, Spencer however decided to push through the crowd to the front.

He interrupted the interviewer mid question, eager to get into the building and away from the cameras. "Excuse me, I'm Dr. Reid with the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Was your cousin by chance a fan of Wagner? Because a CD of the Tragic Overture was sent to the police this morning."

The random man nodded and began to possess a sort of sly smile, thinking that he had even managed to trick the FBI. "He loved Wagner, especially the Tragic Overture, It's him."

"Oh yeah well for the record a CD was not sent to the police this morning and the Tragic Overture was written by Brahm, not Wagner. So luckily, I guess it's not your cousin," he paused and turned to address the camera instead of the man, who quite frankly looked as if he had been slapped in the face with something rather sharp. "The FBI would greatly appreciate it if people would stop making false claims to get their 15 minutes of fame. Also could you please part so my coworkers can get through?"

The people almost immediately parted in the place in which he had originally pushed through, creating a corridor that Clara felt safe enough to walk through. She and Morgan looked at each other in bewilderment to Spencer's sudden change in demeanor then walked through the created pathway, disappearing behind the doors without regard to the thousands of questions being yelled at them. "What about presents, will you let me get you a present?" Clara asked hopefully in the silence of the entry of the police precinct.

"I don't need anything Ara."

"Not even a two new pairs of socks so you can mismatch them?" she countered and watched as a look of intrigue crossed his eyes. She chuckled softly as she opened the doors to the precinct, noise and chatter almost drowning out her cheerful response, "I'm taking that as a yes!"

-

On the plane journey back the BAU, instead of relaxing or sleeping as they usually did, worked overtime to complete all the paperwork for the case. Everyone worked silently to focus on the task, which they all hated. But if they completed it all by the time they landed, no one would have to work the following day unless a call got brought in. That incentive only added to Clara's natural adoration for paperwork, she liked the safety of it and the methodical procedure of completion. "Can you pass me the- uh... Shit I forgot what it's called..." she trailed off, her mind drawing to a complete and utter blank the second she looked up from her papers. "The uh- Cucitrice," she muttered as a sigh fell from her lips, her fingers going to rub her temple.

"Rossi?" Spence called quietly, grabbing the man's attention without the majority of the workforce knowing. Luckily he sat just across from them so translation wouldn't be too difficult.

"Cucitrice," Clara repeated softly, still completely drawing a blank as to what the word was in English. This sort of thing happened quite infrequently but when it did she could not help but get annoyed at herself for forgetting. When she forgot the Italian words, the language she had grown up speaking, that caused a greater annoyance to the point where she would get physically angry at herself.

Rossi seemed to find the hilarity in the situation where she did not, having had it happen to him a few times, and was quick to translate so Spencer could understand. "Stapler."

Spencer slid the stapler over the desk and went back to his work. She smiled and failed to hide it with her lips at how little of a reaction he had had to that entire conversation. In previous workplaces, where she had been belittled and laughed at for such circumstances but here no one seemed to care. As she attempted to get back to her work, she could not help but let her gaze fall onto he watch and watch as three minutes ticked past and brought them to midnight. "Spence," she whispered, catching only his attention as intended. He looked up, brow furrowed as his glasses slipped down his nose just a little. "Happy Birthday."

He smiled brightly as emotion overtook him, the grin turning into chuckles under his breath that brought her so much joy that her stomach somersaulted.