After JJ's departure the team struggles with the loss, and the complete refusal to replace her. Having gone through three Media Liaisons already the addition of Jena Eck has Hotch and the rest of the team questioning if they ever will fall into a rhythm again. All travel suspended the team is only working local cases. Taryn Gillis of the Special Crimes Unit has an idea that she could use one of the BAU members out it the field, to help give his perspective on the crime scene from a profilers point of view. Having her mind set on the perfect one, she won't stop until she gets him. A rapist and murderer is on the loose eluding Taryn's team and soon the case will land in Hotch's lap when it takes an unexpected twist.

As always I do not own any rights to CBS, ABC or their affiliates. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is an original story written on the basis of the show Criminal Minds and solely for entertainment purposes.

Please enjoy and review.

Thank you

~Cinny

Under the Cover of Night

Chapter 1

Taryn Gillis sat opposite Agent Hotchner, he was stone faced as he read the case file. Silent since he asked what he could do for her and she had handed him the file. She perched on the end of her seat with her legs crossed at the ankles, tucked neatly, one foot behind the other, slightly to the right under the chair . She wore black high heeled shoes, and a black suit, the skirt ending just below the knee. A pale yellow silk blouse a simple necklace and earrings. Her hair, the color of warm maple syrup, reached past her shoulders a good three inches and had a natural wave to it. Taryn battled that wave to the bitter end, but it never lasted long, growing curlier and out of control as the day wore on. Taryn glanced, inconspicuously at her watch. It was well past noon and she was already feeling like she had worked the whole week rolled into one day. The stress was written on her face. The way she was on edge and her nervous fidgeting revealed she had spent many hours pouring over this case with little outcome.

Nervously she tried once again to smooth out the wrinkles in her linen skirt.

'Why did I choose this material? It only wrinkles the moment you put it on.'

On most days Taryn wouldn't be caught dead in a get up like this one. Normally her job required a less formal type of attire. Her skirt would be shorter and of a cheaper material, her blouse would be a halter or cut off t-shirt. Stripper high heels instead of the sensible leather ones she wore now. Her jewelry would be gone replaced with a rubber band around her wrist and one in her hair. And when Taryn wasn't undercover she would be in jeans, t-shirt and converse sneakers. No, she wouldn't dress like this. This was for the benefit of Aaron "Mr. Suit" Hotchner.

"Do you want my team in on this?" Hotch looked up from the page he was reading.

Taryn weighed her options before answering. She knew if she didn't invite all of them she wouldn't be able to use the one she needed. Yes was her simple answer and she gave it with a pause hanging in the air between them. Taryn almost expected an awkward silence, instead he filled the gap.

"But?" Hotch waited for her answer, knowing there was more to her request or she would not be sitting in his office.

He was reading her like a children's book and she didn't like it. She knew she should have gotten right to the point. She dove in, hoping he would agree to he wishes.

"I want to use one of your agents in the field."

"I'll call Morgan…." He picked up the phone ready to dial.

Taryn reached out and depressed the plunger, disconnecting the call. "Actually… it is Agent Reid that I am interested in."

"Spencer Reid? DoctorSpencer Reid? Are you sure?" Hotch didn't believe Agent Gillis knew who Reid was, or how he was best served using his mind and not his body.

"Positive, he is perfect for the job." She released the plunger letting the dial tone buzz in Hotch's ear.

Ten minutes later Spencer stood in Hotch's office listening carefully to his instructions.

"Okay, if you think it will work."

Taryn could hear the disbelief in his voice and she knew his doubt stemmed from a belief that she wouldn't be able to transform him into the role.

"Don't worry one afternoon with me and you will be a changed man." Taryn's eyes got wide when she realized how that sounded. She quickly got to her feet indicating that the meeting was over. Right before she ducked out of the room she stressed. "This has to stay between us. The rest of your team can know that Reid is working with another group as they help with the case, but they can not know exactly what he is doing. For the safety of my team and everyone involved."

.

.

Reid waited nervously on the fourth floor. Taryn was talking to Mike Polack. The six foot muscle bound man was wearing military style kaki cargo pants, a black t-shirt and a flack jacket. His hair was cut short almost military style, all but the tuff of messy hair near his forehead. Polack leaned closer to Taryn as she talked and Spencer wondered briefly if Taryn had something going on with him. He was the kind of man that woman were attracted to. He quickly dismissed that line of thought, because he shouldn't care who she dated.

Reid could hear part of the conversation and knew she was explaining her plans to him.

"Really? Him…" Polack's voice was deep almost as if he had more than his share of testosterone. It resonated off the walls and was clear as a bell to Reid. Something about it put him at ease. It erased the thoughts that Reid had about the ability of a man with such a distinct voice to work undercover. Quite the opposite. Being at ease with someone, meant you became comfortable around them and didn't pay attention to the little details. Polack in spite of his size and appearance was forgettable, perfect for his job. Her voice was muffled and he couldn't make out what she was saying, but by her animated hand movements he knew she was selling her point. Reid wondered for the fifth time what he had gotten himself into.

The fourth floor was different from the sixth. Instead of a loft, the center was raised and three sets of stairs led to different offices and rooms around the perimeter. In the center of the bullpen was a long rectangle table. Three desks sat at the far end and low book shelves against the railing to Reid's right. At the back of the room a set of steps to the left going down to the perimeter of the room. Reid could see an office sized room with floor to ceiling windows and a wooden door. The blinds on the windows were open and he could see inside. A futon looking couch on the wall to the right, a beige refrigerator a small counter and microwave on the wall parallel to the windows. And what caught Reid's attention in the first place, the coffee maker centered on the counter. His mouth watered and he thought he could smell a freshly brewed pot.

Reid couldn't help but feel he should be with his team right now. Maybe going over a case or getting to know Jena Eck. The trouble was he almost didn't want to get to know her. She wasn't staying, and even if she was did, he wouldn't risk having his heart crushed again. He looked around the room again and to him it was as if he had left the building altogether. He worried that he had taken on more than he could handle. He was reminded of their situation and he thought maybe this is exactly what they needed. With the team working on this less stressful case they could get to know Jena better and perhaps learn to trust her. He felt a twinge of guilt about his lack of trust, because it wasn't like she was fresh out of school. She was a seasoned Agent, familiar with BAU practices. And here they were already judging her abilities and comparing her to JJ. Reid knew no one compared to JJ.

Taryn walked over to Reid a few minutes later. "Ready?"

"No, but let's do it."

Taryn smiled at him, at least he was honest. "Are you sure you want to? Because if you have any doubt it is best that you don't go out onto the street."

"Agent Gillis, I can do my job, I think your team has doubts."

"They don't have doubts. Well they do, about the way you look now, when I am finished they won't."

Reid glanced at the coffee once more.

"How do you like it?"

Misunderstanding Reid took another look around the floor. "It's nice, just very different from what I am accustom to."

"Yes it is." Taryn headed to the stairwell by the break room. Reid followed. "I really need a cup of coffee, do you mind?"

"No not at all."

.

.

Taryn took him down another flight of stairs that led to the back section of this level. The Special Crimes Unit Chief's office was on his right and then the door to her office. Spencer read the name plate. SSA S.C. Taryn Gillis.

Inside he noted an orderly office, her credentials and diplomas hanging on the wall closest to her door and across from her desk. A reminder of where she came from, no doubt. Book shelves holding procedure manuals, and to his surprise a few rare classic novels. A framed photo of Chateau de Versailles, Paris centered on one of the shelves of the book case. He wondered if she had gone there and taken the photo. A cherry wood coat rack in the far corner held an umbrella and a sweater. To the right, her desk. On it a family picture, not including Taryn, Mother, Father, and a boy, possibly a younger sibling. A personalized coffee mug holding pens, and her name plate flanked an ink blotter calendar. Two chairs in front of the desk, a garment bag thrown across the back of one of them. A dark pile of clothing folded neatly on the seat. Taryn kicked off her shoes the minute they were in the office. He looked at her, apparently her feet hurt and she was more comfortable in different clothing, evident by the constant tugging of the shirt and the smoothing of the skirt, when they were in Hotch's office. He looked at her bare feet as she wiggled her toes. Reid never felt feet were attractive, hers were, very small, with her nails painted a pale color of pink. He liked how she felt comfortable enough in this room to walk barefoot across the carpet. By the looks of things she didn't stay here often and yet she was very much at home.

Spencer walked deeper into the small room, taking a look at her windowsill. A couple of random knickknacks, one still sporting an Ikea price tag, a few small plaques and a dead house plant. He took the glass of water sitting on the corner of her desk and dumped it on the dry soil. Taryn closed the door and smiled at him. He was profiling her and she knew it. He was hard pressed to really know her by the things in her office since she was rarely here and when she was she was always in the process of being someone else.

He turned around at the sound of the clicking lock. She smirked at him trying to stifle a laugh. She lost that battle when she said, "That was diet sprite."

Spencer looked over his shoulder at the plant and then back at her, "Oh…" which only made Taryn giggle more.

She handed him the clothing. "Go ahead and change and then we will do something with that hair. Jones can wire you." She walked behind her desk and picked up the phone. Reid just stood there holding the outfit.

"Here?" He was half holding his breath hoping she would say he could go to the bathroom. She nodded instead and turned her back.

Taryn had thought nothing of it, she had brothers, three of them and in this job of quick changes and strategic mic placements, she wasn't modest or used to having people around her being that way either. Reid changed lightening quick He was zipping up the fly on the slacks when she turned around. They fit perfectly and he wondered how she knew what size he wore.

Twenty minutes later Reid was dressed in an outfit that was so far away from his normal style he didn't look like the same person. Not that you could call the button down shirts and Docker style slacks he wore on a daily basis a style, more like a uniform. Reid rarely wore anything else. At home he had a set of pajamas and some sweat pants and t-shirts. Taryn had taken advantage of his long thin frame dressing him in camouflage cargo pants, a graphic t-shirt, leather jacket, spiked bracelet, dog collar necklace, and Doc Martens black leather boots with clucky biker style hardware. His hair was long and she had added hair product making it hang in his face and curl more than he normally wore. The eyeliner, which Morgan called "guy liner" was almost a bit too much. When he looked at his reflection he couldn't believe how evil he looked. He almost felt like playing the part. The only thing that gave him away was his voice. If he opened his mouth everyone would know he wasn't who he was dressed up to be. Good thing his role was to stand on the street and hang out, nothing more. If he was needed to move in, he would get the signal and assist in the arrest.

Reid hadn't been prepared to be whisked away like this. He didn't know that once he agreed they would have him dressed and ready to go that night. But here he was standing infront of a man he just met. Lance Jones was lacing the mic from his boot, up his leg, taping it to his groin. He was grateful Taryn had chosen to leave the room for this part of the transformation. It was bad enough standing here with his pants and underwear around his ankles as another man wired him. Spencer held himself in his palms moving delicate body parts out of the way. He didn't want to think about taking off the tape later. The ear piece was taped to his chest and then snaked down to the same battery pack as the mic.

"Alright you're set. Take a walk and see if anyone recognizes you. When you are outside of this room talk to me. All you need to do is speak normally. But once you are off the floor do not speak, listen to instructions, as I sound check the team."

Reid did as instructed. Jones told him his mic was good and that he should roam around, and run into a few people who knew him. That was easy all he had to do was go to the sixth floor. If they didn't know him, no one would.