❝ But I'm only human
and I bleed when I fall down ❞
The Behavioral Analysis Unit team around Aaron Hotchner gets called in to assist on a serial killer case in New York where they meet the young and surprisingly talented Special Agent Skylar Brown...
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Spencer clamped the phone between his shoulder and his ear, using his free hand to check with the notes on his little notepad. "I believe the unsub has either been falsely prosecuted by a District Attorney or had someone in his family that this happened to," he said.
Garcia made a 'tsk' sound. "And here I was thinking we're going to be productive," she said. "I mean, you are the Watson to my Sherlock; I expect you to give me a little more than that."
"How about the beginning of the month? Any males involved in assault or murder charges that ended up in the hands of any of the District Attorneys, the unsub could even be a prisoner who got out of jail during that time period. Search specifically for ages late-twenties to late-thirties."
"Uh-huh. Gimme more."
"He works for a delivery service or volunteers to drive for one."
"Okay, yes, I can definitely work with that. I'll hit you back with the info ASAP," Penelope said. "In the mean time, how are you guys getting along with Agent Brown?"
She stared at her screen that still showed the security footage of the room. The Agents sitting at the table had completely forgotten about her act of voyeurism, completely engaged in a rather heated conversation. They were working well, she could see that. Worried about Derek, however, she had had to make sure that this wasn't just some ruse. She was petty like that.
Spencer looked down at his sneakers, his forehead wrinkled and said, "Who?"
Smooth. Really fucking smooth.
He almost facepalmed himself. It was like one of those situations where a child asks his mother 'what's a window?' after she caught him breaking one. Just in this case, Penelope was his mother and he was the oblivious and seemingly rebellious child.
Regardless of his IQ and however fast he could read, the doctor was a terrible liar. You don't have to be a profiler to get that.
Sure, he behaved strangely all the time or else he wouldn't be the genius doctor Penelope cherished so much, but this was a whole new level of strange. Yes, this was strange in a non-Spencer way. An alarming one, that is.
"Reid, sweetie, did you drop on your head in the few hours you've been away?" Garcia asked.
The brunette shook his head, his brows knitted so tightly together that they were probably having a tea party in the little crease that formed. "I can assure you that my head is perfectly fine," he said. "Thank you very much!"
"Of course, it is," Garcia answered. "Why did I even bother asking?" She said. "Anyway, how about we circle back to my original question: The woman that's currently sitting at the table behind you, how is she fitting in with you guys?"
