What Are Little Girls Made Of?

Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth.

- Benjamin Disraeli

"We got a case," announced Jennifer Jareau, entering the room and setting the file she held in her hand on the table. "Seventeen year old girl kidnapped in Des Moines Iowa. She was reported missing by her school friends when she didn't show up for school three days in a row. Her name is Rita Maxwell."

"Are we sure she hasn't just been skipping classes or that she ran away?" asked Derrek Morgan from the far end of the table, slouching and twirling a pen between his fingers.

"Positive," said JJ, leaning over the table, still not sitting down. "According to both her friends and teachers, she literally lives for school. They say since her mother threw her out six months ago that it was really the only thing keeping her from suicide."

"So she's been staying with her dad, I take it?" asked Rossi.

"No, he lives in Pittsburgh and she hasn't had contact with him since she was five. She and her mother both have a restraining order," said JJ.

"Then where's she been staying?" asked Reid, furrowing his brow.

"Couch hopping, probably," said Morgan, "That was what my friends did when they were having problems with their parents."

"That's what the friends say. She was supposed to stay with a friend from Thursday to yesterday and she never showed up."

"Why'd her mother kick her out?" asked Prentiss. She sounded more than a little angry.

"She came out to her mother as a lesbian and according to her friends, her mother snapped and kicked her out. She showed up at one of her teachers' house an hour later and since then she's set up as schedule for who she says with when."

Suddenly something clicked in Penelope's head. "Um, JJ, guys, I think I know this girl."

"You mean you think you can get into her head, Baby Girl? That's great," said Morgan with a small grin. "We'll have you be a profiler yet."

"No, I mean I like literally think I know her. She's a member of this knitting and crochet forum I'm part of. At least I think she is. All the details fit. We-we're in the same group there. It's called Sci-Fi Stitchers. It's for Sci-Fi fans that knit. She does knit, right JJ?"

"Yeah," said JJ looking down at the papers mystified. "she does; and crochets. Her favorite hobbies."

"This is good," said Prentiss excitedly, "What else do you know about her?"

"She likes Sci-Fi and fantasy, Torchwood, Doctor Who, Star Trek, loves Star Trek, Harry Potter. She ships Janto, erm, Jack/ Ianto in Torchwood; they're the canon gay couple… Um, is that helpful?"

"Fantasy and Science Fiction suggests detachment and the fact that she 'ships' as you say, two male characters instead of a male and a female, suggests she wants equality in her relationships," suggested Rossi.

"Or it could just mean she's gay," said Morgan, "Which she is."

"I think Rossi's partly right about this, actually, Morgan. She does want to escape and she would want to be equal in a relationship. Her mother was abusive, her father was abusive, until she changed schools two years ago, her classmates were abusive. She wants to escape and be treated with respect," said JJ, looking over the files. Penelope nodded and voiced her agreement.

"If she wants to escape, then we have to be one-hundred percent sure she didn't run away. Are we sure about that?" asked Hotchner, finally speaking up.

"She has a full ride scholarship to Bryn Mawr in the fall; she can't go if she doesn't graduate. Trust me, she wouldn't run. Aside from that, if she didn't like the family she was staying with for the week, she could just move to the next one on her list," said Garcia.

"In that case," said Reid pensively, "our prime suspect should probably be the father."

"Alright," agreed Hotchner, "Everyone get your go-bags, it's wheels up in an hour." then he paused. "Also, Garcia, I'd like for you to come with us."

"Um, sir, are you sure that's alright? I'm not too close to the case, am I?"

"Do you think you're too close to this case?"

"No sir, I want to work it. This girl, I know her inside and out. I just thought…"

"The moment I think your judgment on anything is compromised, I'll let you know Garcia. Understood?"

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

"One more thing, Garcia."

"Yes?"

"I'd like for Reid to stay with you when we get there and set up."

Penelope didn't understand why he'd need to say with her, but she didn't question it. "Alright, sir."

"You know we might not find her alive, right? You have to be prepared for that."

"I can't believe that she's not alive sir. I know the odds are slim now that it's the third day, but I can't, not even for a second believe she's dead."

Reid was already ready and waiting in Penelope's office when she got there to get her things. His go-bag was by his feet and he stood in the center of the room looking uncomfortable. His fingers were laced together.

"So," he asked, scratching at the back of his head with his right hand, "how well do you know Rita?"

"Pretty well. Like I said, she's in one of my knitting groups. We met last year. Actually when I heard her mother kicked her out, I offered to let her stay with me."

Reid looked perplexed. "You were going to let a complete stranger live with you?"

"I snooped first," Garcia reassured him, "But even if I hadn't, I couldn't let a kid like that live on the streets for something she couldn't control. When I came out to my parents at sixteen, they said they'd support me no matter who I loved. She needs at least one person in her life like that."

Reid stared at his feet. "I thought you liked guys, you know, because you and Morgan are always flirting and you and Kevin Lynch-"

"I'm bisexual, Reid. I do like men. But I like women too. Don't tell anyone on the team. Only Morgan knows. And I guess now you do too."

Rita Maxwell felt so thirsty. She hadn't had a drink since the night before when the man who kidnapped her brought her a bottle of water. She hadn't eaten since she had gotten here. She wasn't sure when that was. The room she was in looked like something from some screwed up idea of what a little girl's room should look like. It was pink and everything was covered in ruffles. There were no windows and no way to tell what time it was. She wore a shackle around her left ankle and had been forced into a ruffled gingham dress.

'No one even knows you're missing,' said the dark voice in her head. 'They think you ran away.'

'That isn't true,' said another voice, 'Your friends at school will know you're gone. And the people on Sci-Fi Stitchers will too. Or Becca. Someone will know you're gone.'

Someone removed the overhead ceiling panel and lowered down a picnic basket using a pulley and winch. "Enjoy your lunch," said a woman's voice.

"Please, please, let me out of here! Hey, let me out!" Rita screamed. But the woman didn't seem to care.

A/N: To Be Continued. Please, R and R.