The Shadows We Dance With

Ch 2: Hidden Talents

The Behavioral Analysis Unit's office was buzzing with the usual post-case energy. Files were being closed, coffee was being poured, and for just a moment, the weight of their responsibilities seemed a little lighter. It was late, but none of them were ready to call it a night just yet.

JJ and Emily were at one end of the room, leaning against a desk, talking quietly. Rossi was nearby, sorting through some papers, occasionally chiming in with a dry remark that made everyone chuckle. Morgan was tossing a basketball up and down idly, a habit he picked up whenever a case had gone well. Garcia, vibrant as ever, was updating her tech setup, her screens glowing softly in the dim light.

Hotch stood by his office door, watching his team with a small, almost imperceptible smile. It was these moments—these brief periods of normalcy—that he cherished, when he could see his team not just as agents, but as people, friends.

"Alright, everyone," Hotch began, clapping his hands lightly to get their attention. "Before we all head home, I think we could use a little levity. Anybody have a good story from this last trip? Something... light?"

There was a brief silence, a few smiles, then Rossi spoke up, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. "Well, I might not have a story, but I do have a little known fact about our own Dr. Reid."

Spencer, who had been quietly reading at his desk, looked up, his expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "What are you talking about, Rossi?"

Rossi grinned, leaning back in his chair. "I heard from a very reliable source that our young genius here was quite the dancer back in the day. Isn't that right, Reid?"

A ripple of surprise and amusement passed through the room. Morgan stopped tossing the basketball, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Wait, wait, wait—you're telling me Spencer here was breaking it down on the dance floor?"

Spencer's cheeks reddened slightly, but he managed a small smile. "It was just something my mother thought would be good for me. It helped with... spatial awareness and coordination."

JJ laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, come on, Spencer, don't be so modest. What kind of dance are we talking about here? Ballet? Tap? Jazz?"

Spencer sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Ballet, contemporary, jazz, and yes, tap, along with some... others. Anyway, it was a long time ago."

Emily clapped her hands delightedly. "I would pay good money to see that. Spencer Reid, the tap dancing prodigy!"

Garcia, never one to miss out on the fun, spun around in her chair, her eyes alight with excitement. "Oh my stars, can you imagine the recitals? Little Spencer with a bow tie and shiny tap shoes!"

Morgan chuckled, leaning against his desk. "I bet he was the star of the show, huh? Little genius stealing the spotlight even back then."

Spencer shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. "I wouldn't say the star, but... I was decent."

Rossi raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Decent? From what I've heard, you were more than decent. Kids double your age and twice your size couldn't keep up with you."

Hotch finally stepped fully out of his office, his demeanor still serious but his eyes warm. "Well, it sounds like you've been holding out on us, Reid. Maybe at the next team gathering, you can give us a demonstration."

The room erupted in laughter, even Spencer couldn't help but laugh, the warmth and teasing a welcome change from their usual intense discussions about cases.

As the laughter died down, JJ added, "Well, I think that's exactly the kind of talent we need around here. It's settled then. Next team night, Reid is dancing."

Spencer nodded, his smile genuine, touched by his team's good-natured ribbing. "Alright, but only if Rossi sings."

Rossi's laughter boomed through the room, followed by everyone else's. The atmosphere was light, the camaraderie evident, and for a moment, the harsh realities of their job were forgotten.

——

The team had just wrapped up their brief moment of levity when Hotch received the call. His expression quickly shifted back to his professional demeanor as he listened intently on the phone. The rest of the team noticed the change and prepared themselves for a shift back to reality, all while a bit more than irritated that they didn't even get to go home between cases.

Hotch hung up and addressed the team immediately. "We've got a new case in Las Vegas." The team all stands from where they had been sitting to follow Hotch into the round table room and all sit in their chairs. "Young male prostitutes are disappearing and turning up dead at an alarming rate. All of them share a similar profile."

The room tensed up as Garcia quickly brought up the victim photos on the screen. The images displayed were of young men, each bearing a disturbing resemblance to one specific genius. The team exchanged uneasy looks, the implication hanging heavily in the air but remaining unsaid.

Spencer stared at the young men on the screen in front of him, or the better word to describe them would be boys, much too young to be working the streets. It was almost uncanny how much they looked like him when he was younger but it had to be a coincidence, right?

Hotch, eager to disrupt the tension forming, continued. "Our first victim, Ethan Caldwell, 17, runaway, low risk victim, same as our other two victims... Ryan Whitaker, 16, and Liam Hawthorn, 18. All three have gone missing over the span of a week and were found dead not even 24 hours after they went missing"

The team sat there processing the information they were just told when Morgan chimed in. "Three vics in one week? This guy sure is motivated." Hotch gave him a look. "What? All i'm saying is this guy has some sort of goal. All the victims look almost identical," he spares a look at spencer. "they're all around the same age... he's got someone else in mind"

The team looks at each other in agreement, all having the same thought at the back of their minds... what if that someone is Reid?

"So we all agree that these men are substitutes for some other man, but why? All three men were found strangled to death and were heavily beat antimortem and postmortem, that's some serious rage directed toward the subject these men are substituting." Prentiss adds, "We need to find whoever the core of this unsubs rage is and fast before he gets ahold of him."

"Unless one of our victims IS the core of our unsubs issues." Rossi says without looking up from his file.

Hotch stands, "We need to go, the jet is on standby, wheels up in thirty." Everyone else stands, grabbing their files and bags, ready to head off to the landing strip but Spencer stays seated, he's still staring at the screen with the three men's faces, all a little too familiar.

"You good pretty boy?" Spencer's head snaps to Derek, unaware that he was still in the room having assumed everyone had left. "You didn't say anything that whole time..." he pauses, realizing what Spencer had been looking at. "Yeah, It's a bit... odd, but you'll be fine. Guess i'm not the only one fond of pretty boys, huh." Derek ruffles Spencers hair playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, yeah i'm sure it's just a coincidence. I'm all good...Promise." Spencer says as he finally rises from his chair. Derek smiles at him and pats him on the shoulder. "Alright, well, you heard Hotch, kid. Wheels up in 30."

Spencer watches him as he walks out of the round table room, his heart still not settled in his chest. Something about this case feels wrong... but it's just what Derek said, right?

...

Odd