Crisp air caressed her flesh, contrasting sharply against the blazing heat from the fire only a handful of feet away. Crickets chirped at the edge of the woods - not like any of them were able to hear them over the music blaring from the trucks gathered in a circle. Liquid courage coursed through all of their veins, and raisin' Hell and lettin' loose were all they cared to do tonight. She smiled and sidled up against the country boy she'd had her eye on for the past two hours; he hadn't been able to stop staring as her body had flowed like water to the beat of the songs. With a sexy grin, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Had they been able to listen to the sounds of nature, they all would have been able to near the crickets stop their own tunes, the telltale sound of footsteps falling on the sticks and leaves on the ground just beyond the trees, and the very obvious click as a gun cocked.

·····

"This is the third murder in the past two weeks in Pine Mountain, Georgia," the media liaison said, bringing the photos up on the projector. "All with the same M.O., type of location, and victimology."

"A single shot to the temple?" an agent snorted, incredulously.

"According to the local P.D., it was at a distance of over thirty yards. They found an unconscious female-" She pressed a button, and a photo of said young woman flashed onto the screen, "Jemma Marison, not too far into the woods, unconscious with a pretty good-sized gash in her forehead. A large stone nearby had her blood on it - they assumed she'd tripped over a twig and bashed her head on the rock as she was escaping."

"Escaping from what?" inquired another agent, and the woman at the end of the table sighed.

"They seem to think she's the killer. The gun was found with her fingerprints all over it, and her left hand was covered in GSR."

The Unit Chief looked up from his files; his eyes held a grave look. "Wheels up in twenty."

·····

She glared at the officer before her, her jaw set, and spat out, "I already told you! I. Didn't. Do. It."

"All evidence points to the contrary, Jemma," the man retorted.

A guttural scream rebounded off the walls, and she slammed her cuffed fists onto the metal table. Officer Dunway started before forcing himself into a calm demeanour. The girl kept banging against the table as her anger mounted more and more; finally, her hard blue eyes bore so deep into his. He squirmed from discomfort. The steady bang - bang - bang of her flesh meeting metal was the only sound, but he couldn't drag his eyes away from the sight before him. He had never seen such fury from any of the suspects he'd brought into the station. She suddenly let out the same, throaty shriek; he quickly exited the room.

A group of agents had entered and were waiting in the lobby of the building, when he had gotten to the entrance. He wiped his face of the signs of sweat and trepidation that being in the same room as the suspect had caused; the lead agent stepped forward and held out a hand.

"Hello. I'm SSA Hotchner. These are SSA Morgan, Agent Jareau, and Dr. Reid."

'Hi. Officer Dunway."

"You really think she did this?" Agent Hotchner questioned quietly, as they all stood outside the window to the interrogation room, watching as she continuously banged her hands on the table; this time, she had added the pounding of her feet against the hard, tile floor.

"I'm not sure, to be honest. But she was the only one we found at the scene…well, minus the dead girl."

"How long has she been doing that?"

"Uh, about ten, fifteen minutes. She started doing it while I was questioning her."

"Reid? Is this normal?"

The young doctor cleared his throat. "I won't know until we get to know her and her background. It might mean she has some sort of traumatic block that's inhibiting her from remembering anything/"

"Or she could just be crazy," quipped Dunway dryly. "Have at it. If you can get anything from her, well…'s'better than what we've gotten because of her."