A/N: I don't own any of the Criminal Minds characters and I am not making any money from writing this.

Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.

This is a sequel to my story "Fall". You have to read it in order for this to make sense. A subplot anyway. Like "Fall", this is a case fic. Lots of focus on the case with some character dynamic and friendship along the way. No shipping (except maybe Spencer/Dorian).

And yes, Spencer being the temporary lead of the team is the most contrived story idea ever.

Laura Spencer as Kaley Green

Robert Knepper as detective Anthony Redding Megyn Price as Melany Smith

Rainn Willson as Elliot Smith

Jenna Elfman as Rachel Dawson

Gary Basaraba as CEO Neven Heffernan

Jeremy Sisto as CEO Howard Monroe

Elizabeth Perkins as M.E.

Wallace Langham as Walter Woodhouse

The morning was cloudy and it looked like it was about to rain. The cold wind would sometimes rush through the air. Aaron stopped looking through the window, although still appearing to be deep in thought, and turned back to face Reid, who drained his cup of tea. They were sitting at his dining room table, facing each other. The house was almost chillingly quiet and they didn't know how to react on it.

"Are you sure about this?", Spencer asked Aaron again, tapping with his foot as he did.

Aaron looked at him. "I know that you are capable of it."

Spencer took a deep breath. "It's a big responsibility."

"It will be good for you. And you can call Mateo any time if you need help. He will understand."

Spencer smiled. "Or you."

Aaron tried smiling. "Not yet."

Spencer looked around, wanting not to talk about the problems that had been troubling Hotch, and everyone else, for a week. "Jake is at Jessica's?"

"Yes."

"It will be OK, Hotch."

"Thank you", Aaron said. He groaned. "I hope so. You aren't supposed to be talking to me now."

"This is not official."

Spencer reached down and, somehow uncertainly, picked up a grocery bag, that he put on the table in front of his mentor. Aaron twitched.

"Garcia's sending you another gift basket", he said shyly.

Aaron chuckled. Almost.

#

Will stood in front of JJ as she pulled her purse over her shoulder, in the same time straightening her shirt. He looked concerned. An early morning sun shone at his face. "Are you sure about this?", he asked, sounding worried.

JJ rolled her eyes. "A week has passed. Will. I am fine. The baby is fine. I've been through worse. I'm ready to get back to work." She looked around, her gazing falling on Henry sitting at the dining room table, eating her cereal without much apetite. "I'm more upset about him", she said, a pained look on her face.

"JJ...", Will said warmly, ignoring the lump that had formed in his throat.

"He can't sleep at night, Will", JJ whispered, her eyes watery. "He thinks that that woman will come back and murder him. Murder us."

Will looked her in the eyes, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I've found some child therapist, he can talk to them. And who knows? Maybe it will just pass. Kaley is gone." He formed a small smile.

"And Aaron..."

Will held her hand, making her turn to face him again. "Hey. Everything will be alright."

"He wouldn't have shot her if she hadn't pointed a gun at him. know that, Will." She blinked back her tears. "But... the gun was found outside. That way, it would appear that she disposed of it before rushing into the building and that she was unarmed when he shot her. I can't explain that."

Will could say nothing in return, offer no solution. He just hugged her.

#

Like many times that week, Aaron found himself sitting in Mateo Cruz's office that afternoon, ignoring the curious looks from the passers by through the windows. They didn't arrange the appointment, and even Aaron didn't know what was he doing there, but it didn't matter.

Aaron sat on the couch while Mateo said in an armchair opposite to him.

At first, nobody said a word.

"Am I going to have to re tell you the whole case again or can we just get straight to the point."

Aaron didn't answer. But Mateo knew what he meant. "They searched her house."

Aaron continued looking him in the eyes, without making a sound or moving.

"There was a secret compartment inside her closet, behind the back wall", said carefully.

Aaron flinched, but said nothing.

Mateo sighed. "Filled with disguises. Wigs, make up, uniforms... she bought them in several different costume stores throughout the city and paid in cash."

Aaron nodded his head and looked down at the floor. He ran his hands through his hair. Mateo waited for a few moments before continuing.

"She probably first bought them as a countermeasure while stalking the families, then used some of it after murdering Daniele and probably some of the uniforms in order to further ease herself access into the victim's homes", he concluded, trying to sound casual. "There was a secret browser in her computer. Containing the recordings of the sessions. She had a back up recordings on a tape recorder hidden under the floor boards in her bedroom."

Aaron looked up at him, his facial expression pained but stern. "Continue."

"We found an old jewelry box containing the rings that she had taken from the victims. Hidden in an air vent in her bedroom."

"In her jacket, there was a device used to disable a vireless Internet, phone and GPS signal. Probably obtained from Selma. That is why you couldn't track down JJ via her phone or GPS signal. And there was a hand drill. Kaley used it to pick a lock on JJ's car trunk, leaving barely a clue. That is how she sneaked inside. The device also disabled the car alarm system."

Mateo looked to the side for a moment. "There was a notebook and a file under the mattress. Informations that she had written about the victims while stalking them. Informations about her other... future victims. She had seven more agents on her list. Well, their families."

"She could have killed me. Only me and her, face to face."

"Exactly, Aaron. Only you and her. She can't tell her version of the story. And if it was just you and her, and she had the gun with her, where did it go?"

Aaron was confused. "M... maybe she had another gun..."

Mateo glared at him. "Another Glock 9mm? Unlikely. And again: where did it go?" "Because the gun used in the murders was found in a dumpster near the building."

"I don't know!", Aaron cried. He shuddered and took a breath, trying to calm himself down, replaying the memory in his head. "I... I got sick. After... after I shot her." He rubbed his eyes. "There was a bathroom near by... I threw up. I was breathing heavily... I was there for about a minute before returning... I had to sit down, I almost knocked over the couch... soon after Derek walked in." He widened his eyes and clasped his hands together. "Sometime during that minute, the gun disappeared. I mean, ended up in a dumpster." He took a breath. "But I'm sure that she had the gun. She pulled it out, pointed it at me... I had no choice but to shoot her. So I did."

"And you are sure that nobody else was around?", Mateo asked that question again, already knowing the answer.

Aaron took a moment to think things over, shivering. "I didn't see anyone."

Mateo fondled his hands together. "I will do my best, Aaron. The internal control is conducting their investigation. I am overseeing it as much as I can, I know the lead investigator. And I still can't believe that you would do such a thing. I don't. But if the evidence ultimately say otherwise, there will be consequences. We will be at your side, we all will, but there will be consequences."

Aaron nodded his head and buried his face in his hands, a faint sob escaping his lips. Mateo sighed. "Are you seeing a therapist?"

Aaron rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the couch. "Yes, well I have to know, but we haven't made much progress yet."

Mateo looked around, then leaned over, choosing his words carefully. "I have to warn you, Hotch: this could turn ugly very fast. You are close to being an official murder suspect."

Aaron said nothing in return.

#

Spencer was the one to get into the conference room the last, followed by Garcia. They both rushed to stand in front of the screen on the wall, only turning to face their colleagues after they had reached that spot. Spencer smiled awkwardly and Garcia gulped.

"Hi", he whispered, then looked around, as if looking for something. Garcia glared at him, but looked down at her tablet when he didn't notice.

Derek chuckled despite the circumstances. "Relax, kid."

JJ smiled. "You'll do fine."

Spencer looked up and blushed. He and Penelope exchanged a look before she pressed at the remote. Crime scene photographs showing a young blonde woman laying dead on the curb appeared on the monitor as Spencer walked to the middle of the room and began his summation, trying to make sure he wouldn't miss anything. "Two days ago twenty years old Ella Smith walked up to the entrance way to "Literature", an elite Manhattan bank, at the moment when two CEOs, Neven Heffernan and Howard Monroe, were walking inside, and pulled out a gun. She only got to fire one shot that grazed Neven's arm before the security personnel gunned her down. The ambulance was called, but she bled out before it arrived, unable to shed any light to the situation", he finished with a groan.

JJ leaned back in her chair. "Maybe she was somehow forced to take such an action."

Spencer shook his head, appearing more confident. "Doubtful. No criminal record, nothing suspicious found on her or in her car, that was found parked near by. All of her family and friends have been accounted for. No other apparent injuries other than the gunshot wounds. And... we have a video of the shooting."

Garcia grimaced as she pressed at the "Play" button, and then shut her eyes before moving to the corner.

The video started playing.

Ella was walking toward the door.

One step. Another step. Nobody was noticing her.

Then she pulled out the gun from her pocket.

Gasps. CEOs turned towards her and froze. Even the security guards were startled.

"This is for Michelle!", she cried.

Ella pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed Neven's arm. He moaned and fell on the ground, holding at his wound.

The security guard fired.

Once. Twice. Straight in her chest.

The second security guard hit her in the shoulder.

She fell down on the ground, face up, instantly incapitated, the gun falling from her hand.

The screen turned black.

Spencer turned towards the table, his hands on his hips. "You see? A little tense but confident. Concentrated. Even when the security guards pulled out their guns."

"Who recorded this? It looks pretty high quality."

"A crew from the local TV station was there. There are also security camera tapes, but this is the best footage."

JJ scoffed. "They just allowed them that?"

David grinned. "A legal loophole. Standing at the curb, before the official opening time. They couldn't do them anything."

"Ella did call in sick that morning, saying she had to miss the college lessons. And she had called in sick a few times before during the last two months. No recorded to the doctor though. The autopsy is still in progress"

"What about the gun?", David asked, studying the images on the screen with an interest.

"I was getting there. She used a M1911 handgun. Antique piece from World War Two. The serial number was scratched out, only usable fingerprints found on it matched to Ella herself. They ran the striations from the bullet that had wounded Neven through IBIS and found a match."

"And that is where the plot thickens like a bad pudding. There was a much found. The gun that Ella used is the same as the one used to commit the murders attributed to... "The Invisible Gunman", also known as "The Phantom".

A silence fell over the room. JJ looked shocked. They all exchanged glances as if waiting for that things be revealed as a mistake, but that never happened. "Yup", Spencer mumbled, pacing a bit from left to right.

"One of the first serial killers active in New York", David explained, trying to sort his thoughts. "1960. Four victims in three month span. Never caught."

"They had the data on the ballistics in IBIS even after all these years?", JJ asked, sounding surprised.

Spencer nodded his head. "A year ago a dead bed confession helped clear a forty year old unsolved murder case. They had to pull out a ballistic report in order to confirm some of the details of the story. They've upgraded their IBIS database following that case. Some of the informations stored in there now date up to seventy years ago."

"Did Ella have any relations to the victim's families? The suspects? Their families?", JJ wondered more than asked.

"According to this, no", Derek said, reading the file. "They only moved to Manhattan five years ago. The closest thing they have ever had to a family there is a now deceased grandfather who lived in New Jersey, where he moved in a year after the murders."

"And neither she nor her family had anything to do with bank. They both even lived in a different part of Manhattan", Spencer added. "And nobody knows what "This is for Michelle" meant. No friends or relatives of that name. So far the bank refuses to disclose the information about their clients."

"And how would she even know when they would get there?", Derek questions. Nobody could answer that.

Penelope bit her lip, suddenly a little pale looking. "And there's more. In 1960, a witness reported seeing a woman running down the street near the first murder scene at the approximate time of the murder. Never identified. A composite sketch was made." She turned toward the screen, raising her hand up. "Gaze upon it."

She clicked at the remote. A yellow, wrinkled piece of paper appeared on the screen: the pretty well drawn sketch of a young, round faced Caucasian woman with long hair appeared on the screen.

Another click. A photograph of Ella, taken at the time she was still alive, also appeared on the screen, next to the composite sketch. The resemblance was almost unbelievable. Facial features, eyes, hair, even lips. JJ felt a chill rush through her, and even Derek felt something cold seep down his stomach. Garcia quickly turned away from the photograph.

"OK, that's really creepy", JJ exclaimed, her jaw going slack.

"I agree", David muttered.

"And we have to find a solution", Spencer exclaimed. "So... wheels up in..." He stopped, looking away, and coughed a little. "This is hard", he whispered. His eyes were red once he turned forward. "Let's go!", he said, picking up his file and the tablet and heading to the door, followed by Penelope and then the others.

#

The grey haired man was sitting lazily in an armchair in his small living room, slumped in front of the TV. The news were on. One particular news interested him. He felt himself sweat as the reporter droned on.

"There are still no much new information about the bizarre incident that had taken place in front of the "Literature" bank early yesterday morning. The police still hasn't been able to uncover the motive for the crime. Ella Smith's parents have declined the offer for an interview..."

The man turned the TV off and stood up. He quickly walked into his room and closed and locked the door behind. He pulled a scrap book out of his writing desk drawer, sat at the desk and opened it, breathing in as he read the first page, more exactly an article on a worn off news paper.

"Alan Mathews amd his soon Keith found murdered in Alan's Manhattan home"

The man smiled and ran his fingers carefully over the page.

~OPENING ROLES AND CREDITS~