AN: Been having this idea banging around my head for a while. Not really comfortable writing in the CM universe, but when a Plot Bunny starts using its bad words and giving you bunny back talk, an author has to do as the Plot Bunny says. Don't really like Seaver, so I'm not going to really write her into here. And if I do, it will be as a bitter woman you is selfish and childish. Besides, my goal is to make this into a fairly funny Reid fic with a bit of a case thrown in. This will be a one-shot.
Don't own anything you recognize, because if I did I wouldn't need to do this for shiggles. (Though I do wish I owned one, maybe two, of the actors' from the show….mmmmmmm sexthy.)
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The Behavior Analysis Unit (BAU for short) really hated when they were called in for cases in any of their home towns. This feeling could, and often would, be multiplied exponentially when the case involved their youngest agent, Dr. Spencer Reid. But a case like the one they were called in for was something that they could not ignore. Local dancers and showgirls in Vegas were turning up mutilated, unrecognizable, and, sometimes, barely alive. The local LEOs had been reluctant to even make the call, but found they had to when the daughter of a local casino boss was found along with her two roommates. The LEOs grudgingly made the call that Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia had answered.
"Yes Captain, I understand. The agents are reviewing the case as we speak and will be on the next flight out. – Yes Sir, SSA Hotchner received the note with your theories. – Yes Sir. - …Idiot." Garcia said as she hung up her phone.
"What's wrong my White Truffle?" Morgan said as he walked into Garcia's lair.
"Nothing Choc- Hey, White Truffle? Are you saying I'm fat? And be careful how you answer Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, I have your cyber life at my fingertips." Garcia demanded of Morgan.
(Somewhere in the bullpen of the BAU, Reid was heard saying, "Ouch, full name and rank. That is never good.")
"Whoa, whoa, whoa Baby Girl. White Truffles are delicious, classy, highly sought after, rare, and some of the most delicious delicacies in the world." Morgan back pedaled.
"Oh…in that case, nothing my Hot Chocolate Thunder. Just an irritating police captain for the next case we've got." Garcia said, with a tone that clearly said someone's cyber-life was in jeopardy of being ended very slowly and in an excruciatingly painful manner.
"About that, Hotch wanted me to tell you wheels up in twenty." Morgan said.
"And how long ago was that?" Garcia asked.
Glancing at his watch, "Oh…about fifteen minutes." Morgan answered as he fled the flying trolls and stuffed animals Garcia was throwing at him.
"You Mr. Special Agent Derek Morgan are lucky I already have a go bag and that I love you. BUT no baked goods for you for a month." Garcia yelled down the hall trying not to let her laughter leak into her voice. "Vegas here I come. I wonder if Junior G-man can teach me how to beat the house while we're there. No Garcie, Bad Garcie, Focus on the case Garcie."
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"So what do we know about the victims or the UnSub?" Hotch asked once the BAU's jet had reach cruising altitude and the team could converge on coffee and files.
"All of the victims are between the ages of 17 and 24." Morgan started off the brain storming.
"Majority are white but the UnSub does not appear to strictly kill white women." Seaver was the next to contribute, trying to look like a valid member of the team.
"He seems to have begun with victims in low risk locations and would dump the victims at the kill site; he seems to have evolved from there and is keeping the victims for longer periods of time and at secondary sites." Prentiss was the next to contribute.
"The UnSub is killing both exotic dancers and showgirls. Though he must have started with the local prostitutes for 'practice'" Hotch was the next to speak.
"He probably is gearing up towards the prostitutes on this one," Reid said, "Vegas does have a few brothels. And while it is fairly easy to make it to the door, it is a little more difficult to get in let alone leave the building with one of the girls. Even if she is leaving with you willingly."
"Reid, how the hell do you know that?" Morgan asked, a look of astonishment on his face.
"Born, raised, and corrupted in Vegas." Reid answered while pointing at himself.
"You should really have that made into a shirt, Sweet Cheeks." Garcia said, chuckling at the looks on the other BAU members' faces.
"Who says I haven't already? You haven't seen my entire wardrobe Penelope." Reid replied with a look of mock incredulity on his face.
"Oh my lord, we've created a monster. Morgan, we have to stop him before he takes over the world and we know he can before his first cup of coffee." Prentiss said with a faux-aghast look and a snicker of laughter in her voice.
"Caffeine, that's his kryptonite. We need to make sure that he is surrounded by caffeine. That way he won't want to take over the world." Rossi suddenly chimed in from the chair he was sitting (read lounging) in.
"Have I told you guys today that I love you? No? That might be because you haven't provided me with caffeine yet." Reid scolded, trying to keep a straight face.
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The BAU team had been in Vegas for a week. And over that week there had been two more crime scenes. One having been the day that they had landed and the other just two days ago. Yet again the victims had been exotic dancers or showgirls. In one case, a house hold of four women that worked in either profession was slaughtered.
The whole team was having a hard time finding this man. They had figured out that the UnSub was two people, most likely two men but potentially could be a male and female, they were most likely in their late twenties themselves, white and gave off the personae of being affluent. The submissive of the pair would find the victims for the dominate partner. Once the torture and murders began, the submissive's job was to make sure the victims stayed alive long enough for the dominate to have their fun.
"Alright, does anyone have any ideas of how we can catch these bastards?" Morgan asked suddenly causing everyone to jump slightly in their seats.
"What else can we do? We've given the profile to the local LEOs from Vegas to Reno. The pit bosses of all the locale casinos were told what to look out for. The club owners and the club bouncers were told as well. All we can do is hope the UnSubs make a large enough mistake for us to be able to catch them." Seaver ranted with a complete air of dejection about her.
"We haven't given the profile to the local Madams or the brothels. They may be able to help us narrow down who these people are at the very least." Reid said once he finished glaring at Morgan while wiping up spilt coffee and rolling his eyes at Seaver.
Seaver, when she first joined the BAU, thought she had an ally in Dr. Spencer Reid. He was young, closer to her age than the other agents, and seemed to have an air of innocence about him. He had been helpful up until she had gone solo at that planned community. It wasn't her fault that the UnSub had gotten a hold of her sidearm. In fact, Reid seemed willing to still help her until she tried to seduce him into doing her paperwork for that case. She didn't know what his issue was with that, she had seen both Morgan and Prentiss slip files from their stacks into Spencer's stack.
So when Reid had rolled his eyes at her every time she attempted to make a contribution to the roundtable brain storming the team did, she really wanted to take the skills her father taught her and teach him a lesson…that was until she realized that Dr. Reid not only was a multi PhD but also a senior agent in the FBI and she had seen him "accidently" give an opponent a black eye during sparring in the Bureau's gym after the guy had made a sexual innuendo at Penelope's expense. And unlike her, he didn't make it on his father's name.
"Do you really think that will work my Caramel Macchiato?" Penelope Garcia asked.
"Mmmmm Caramel…."
"REID! Focus man. A little coffee in your sugar can come later. Profile to brothels and madams now." Morgan scolded.
"Garcia, no more mentioning anything sugary around Reid until he explains his thinking." Hotch admonished while trying not to smile.
"If we waited for Reid to explain his thinking, we would still be here for the next coming of the dinosaurs." Rossi muttered to Prentiss causing her to snort coffee.
"Hey, I heard that. No abusing coffee, it is the ambrosia of the gods." Reid exclaimed. "And I think that the only reason we haven't found any prostitutes among the victim-ology at this time is because the UnSubs are still hunting in that victim pool. This means that if they are still hunting, they have to be visiting the brothels. And logic, if you have any, leads us to the conclusion that the ladies within these businesses will probably be our best sources of information."
"Okay Reid, I will let you try this path and see if it leads to any new information. But that means that you have to be the one to give the profile and conduct the interviews." Hotch decided.
"Oh I have to see this. I'll go with Reid in case any of the women would rather speak to another woman." Prentiss volunteered.
"Fine by me, but I have to make a few phone calls and we'll need to make a quick pit stop before we head out." Reid said, shrugging his shoulders not really caring.
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The interviews that Reid and Prentiss conducted did lead to the capture of the UnSubs. It turned out that the people committing the crimes were a pair of fraternal twins, a boy and a girl. The reason that they were killing the women that they were was because the sister had been unable to get a job anywhere in Vegas once it was known who their mother was, the local madam that ran a brothel just on the outskirts of the city of Las Vegas.
What was the most surprising fact was that the ultimate goal for the siblings was not to kill a casino owner that frequented the local brothels. Their plan was to actually kill their own mother. They were just practicing how they were going to kill all of the girls so that it would seem their mother was just a victim of wrong place/ wrong time.
The coup de grace of this entire ordeal was that it was Reid that was able to not only obtain the last few bits of data needed to find the pair but he was also the one that spotted them within the clientele at one of the brothels that he and Prentiss gave the profile at.
"Okay, Em, how badly did Reid get mauled at the brothels? You have to share that info." Morgan said, a look of hunger in his eyes.
"He did not get mauled at all…until he pulled a Reid effect. Which I now know what it is exactly. And that reminds me, Reid, I am not worthy, so not worthy. Please teach me oh Jedi master. This mere Padawan is ignorant in the true power of the Force. I beg of you to teach me." Prentiss cried as she literally dove from her chair to the empty one right next to Reid and latched onto his arm. She even threw in her version of the Puppy-Dog eyes for good measure.
"Oh, put those things away. For you, Grasshopper, will be trained as long as you promise to not go to the dark side with what I teach you. I do not care if they have cookies or not, this is to only be used for good." Reid said, somehow keeping a straight face while at it.
"What if they have Mother Load Chocolate Cake?" Emily asked.
"In that case, steal the cake, grab two…no three forks, and meet me at the Bat Cave. Where our Empress shall ruin their cyber lives as we cackle and digest chocolate." Reid replied while Garcia cheered over the idea of Chocolate Cake.
"Hey, you haven't explained what he did to not only get the women to cooperate but to also send him off with IOUs from every woman for the next time he is home." Morgan said while both Hotch and Rossi leaned forward, curious themselves on how Dr. Spencer Reid a self-declared Hermit (he had a button his messenger bag that claimed he belonged to some Hermit Society) was able to not only get the phone number of every prostitute, male or female, that he met but Reid was also able to get an offer for any services to be rendered for free.
"It is really very simple. And also kind of explains why he always has his bag with him. That reminds me, gimme gimme gimme…Thank you my new personal dealer." Emily said as Reid pulled a brown bag from his bag and dumped the contents into Prentiss' purse. "He bribes them with candy. But not just any candy, he bribes them with chocolate and caramels and bon-bons from France and Germany and Switzerland and Bavaria and Belgium and…I think you get the idea. So tell me, what woman in her right mind would refuse a man almost anything that he asked of her when provides her with such things?"
"Emily, my second favorite profiler in the whole wide world, you know I love you right? Good, because if you don't share your stash right now I will have to bury you in so much bad credit that you will make Fannie Mae look minor." Penelope Garcia said as she held her hand out for her share of whatever Prentiss had dumped into her purse.
"Penelope, my first favorite Technical Analyst, just like when it comes to bears chasing you in the forest, when chocolate is on the line it is every woman for her-self." Prentiss replied. "Besides, before you threaten me you should see if your favorite profiler has anything stashed away for you."
"Hey don't you dare throw me under the bus. I don't have any chocolates for her." Morgan cried, afraid that he was soon going to be losing his credit score. Which meant he soon would not be able to buy and renovate houses for his version of stress relievief.
"Hush Morgan. She was talking about my favorite White Chocolate Caramel Macchiato Genius Junior G-Man. You do have chocolate for your most favorite of favorite Technical Analysts, right Reid?" Garcia asked as she pouted and kicked-puppy eyed and just attempted to look as dejected as she possibly could.
"Dear Lord Prentiss, see what you have started. I am not talking to you for a whole hour."
"But what about our debate of the symbolism in the entire work of Tolkien?"
"Okay, I'm not talking to you until I get my next cup of coffee. And Garcia, you should know by now that you are the only technical analyst that I will ever buy chocolate for. Here, just for you. And I would suggest you don't share, but I already know that you won't." Reid said as he passed a bag to Garcia, either not seeing or more likely ignoring the pout that Seaver had on her face when she realized that chocolate would not be in her near future.
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And that readers is why prostitutes love Reid. He bribes them with chocolate. The good European kind that is so rich a small piece can be enough at a time. Though some women could and would finish off a stash in one sitting.
AN: Any mistakes you see within here is purely the effect of finally finishing this at 2 AM. Damn plot bunnies and their bunny bad words not letting me sleep.
Quick definition of words that I (kind of) made up:
shiggles – the act of doing something for shits and giggles.
sexthy – when a person is so sexy that they cause grown adults to suddenly develop a lisp.
