Another chapter just to amuse myself!

It's a very slow building of Reid and Aurora being friends.
He pops in to be her extra word of the wise, and somewhat factual comfort.
In the next few chapters I'll be getting more into Reid and Rory's relationship, and also more about her father.

Hope you enjoy!
Read & REVIEW

October 2005~~

Kneeling down beside her mirror, looking like she was trying to hide herself from anyone that could come inside, Agent Underwood pulled her fat, government issued cell phone out of her purse. Still in her silk robes after rehearsal, and having waited until the rest of the girls left the room to go home, she was trying to secretly call one of her teammates to tell them about the day.

The case she was still working on in the Burlesque Hall had hit an all time high in the human trafficking department after already apprehending a suspected drug dealer that supplied the manager of the Hall with cocaine and heroine. Motives for the buy were still unclear, but they must've been passing it all around, gaining more and more profit. And unfortunately for the FBI, once they captured that dealer, the manager of the Hall just moved onto a new one who they were just beginning to identify.

But the human trafficking update was because two of the dancers had left. Claire, the redhead from before had left to another dance hall up in New York, and took along with her the silent Samoan girl. They had held auditions that day and two girls who had arrived were from Germany. Beautiful, tall, thin, one a blonde and the other a brunette—they were perfect targets. The manager had apparently asked them to stay behind and Aurora wanted to call in to inform her team before she made any major moves. She felt she had enough time.

On the line, having dialed already, the dial tone acted as her ticking time bomb. It was like listening to a timer that she actually wanted to blow up, to actually hear someone speak. A monotonous voice answered her, sounding delightfully familiar.

"Yes, Agent Underwood?"

"Jason?" she whispered, peeking up over the top of her vanity. No one else was in the room, but she wanted to check.

"Yes its me." He chuckled lightly.

"Jas, tell my Boss that I've just gotten a crack in the case…I'm about to make my move." She whispered again, digging into her purse to pull out a switchblade she had kept for protection.

Through the phone she could hear his chair squeak and he began to bustle around. Drawers opened and closed, papers moved around, footsteps, distant fax machines and phones, the works. "You have your gun right?" he asked, his tone serious and stoic.

Despite him not being able to see her, she still nodded when she confirmed it, her free hand slithering up to her drawer to pull out her gun. She pulled the drawer carefully so no one passing by would hear that she was still in the room. Grabbing the gun, every metallic click it made putting her on edge, she pushed the drawer closed and stood up. For a moment, she examined its dusty frame. The gun hadn't been taken out of her drawer since she had pulled it on Dr. Reid, which was good and bad. Good because she hadn't had a reason to pull it out, but bad for that same reason.

And thinking about it, she felt bad for pulling the gun on the poor kid even though she didn't want him to tell anyone or think about her being an FBI agent. Like a good boy, too, he didn't even tell Gideon—if he did, Gideon certainly wasn't bringing it up with her. So she was going to allow herself to think that no one knew.

"Who's calling? Is it another case?" a quiet voice said from the other line, most likely directed at Gideon. Gideon stayed quiet for moment, probably thinking of what to say.

"No Reid, it's just a friend." He muttered. Aurora didn't roll her eyes, she was too busy cocking the gun and advancing towards the door of the dressing room. Before she moved anywhere, she reached up and grabbed her badge, stuffing it into her robe pocket. She took very light steps, readying her firing arm and pulling the phone away from her ear.

Her brows furrowed the closer she got to the door, her eyes wide and wild, fixated on the door; no specific point, just the door in and of itself. Distantly, she could hear Gideon calling into the phone. 'Hello? Hello! Hello?' the voice repeated. But that sound meant nothing to her. When she was walking towards the door, it was because she could hear movement outside. People strolling back and forth, talking.

The phone rose up to her lips. "Jas," she muttered, "I'll call you back." Her hand clasped the phone tightly and fumbled to shut it off before dropping it to the shag carpet flooring, right on top of a pink champagne stain one of the girls had left.

Both hands now on the gun, she raised it up to eye level in case anyone was outside to attack her when she opened the door. Following protocol, she reached for the handle and pulled the door open, sticking the upper half of her body out the door, looking back and forth down the dark hallway. No one was there.

Exiting cautiously she followed the sounds of girls giggling, down a set of stairs at the end of the hallway and to the left where she could go behind the curtains where all the props and sets were. She was guessing she had to go back to where the little door was, where she had tried to follow the manager to before. Whenever she turned a corner, she would point her gun in every direction, checking for any sign of people who could be waiting for her. No one ever was.

Finally, she caught sight of the manager with the two German girls on either arm, laughing about something he had said. He had lured them towards the door, both of the girls stumbling about like they were drugged. Bending down, he unlocked the door and led the blonde one inside before turning around to reach for the hand of the brunette. Swiftly, Aurora ducked into the darkness, close enough to see and hear them.

"Come on, darlin'." He said deeply. She shook her head and took a step back, "It'z dark in dere." She muttered. He sighed and tried to reach out for her.

"Nothing to be afraid of!"

"Come inside Adelina! It'z nice and varm!" the other girl laughed stupidly from the inside.

"No thank you." The brunette girl said politely, stepping away again. The manager who she had barely gotten to know stood up, his face turning red. He stalked towards the girl and grabbed her violently by the arm.

He tugged her towards the door and she screamed, "You're going inside!" he growled.

She tried to pull away, "No! I won't! Somebody! Help!" she called out desperately, screaming and crying. Aurora glared at him and walked out of the shadows, pointing her gun directly at the manager, pulling out her badge.

"FBI! DON'T MOVE." She demanded, using her strong vocal chords to grab his attention. They both looked at her in surprise as she stepped closer and closer towards him until the end of her gun was not but two feet away from his forehead.

The scared girl quietly sobbed, make-up running down her face. The manager only looked her up and down in shock until a wave of laughter overcame him. He pulled the girl closer to him and laughed at the badge she held out next to her gun. He pointed at it and grinned.

"My dear Aurora, really? Using your brothers FBI badge and a toy gun to try and stop me? Is this a joke? Because if it is," he snickered, reaching into his coat, pulling out his own gun and pointing it at her chest, "I'm not laughing."

Terrified, the German girl let out a sob and Aurora never took her eyes off of his, "I assure you, sir, this isn't a joke. Now drop the weapon and step away from the girl." She growled.

The sound of a gun cocking came from behind her and she could feel the barrel of that gun poke through her curls and attach itself to her scalp. The deep laugh of a bodyguard erupted from behind her and she dare not let her brows rise any higher than they did. She was basically ambushed; more guards could come out of nowhere.

Pressing her lips together, she smiled at the manager and shook her head, "Even if you kill me, the FBI is already on there way here to collect you and your men. You won't get away with this." She shrugged.

The manager laughed, "Keep telling yourself that, Sleeping Beauty. You're just one measly agent that they sent out here to die because they really don't need you. It's a lost cause."

Along with his laughter, the bodyguard laughed and pressed his gun further into her scalp. The German girl let out another sob and Aurora sucked in a breath. She let out a comforting 'shhhh' directed at the girl, telling her everything will be fine. More laughter filled the air.

Out of nowhere, the sound of another gun cocking echoed throughout the stage, "D—drop your weapon, and step away from the girl!" a meek voice said.

The bodyguard looked over his shoulder and just guffawed. Aurora's eyes widened and she tried to guess who could be here. She didn't want to take her eyes off of the manager, for fear of him either firing or getting away. The fourth gunman shifted his weight nervously and spoke again, "FBI, drop your weapon and step away from the girl!"

Aurora gasped, "Dr. Reid?"

"Hey there, Aurora." He commented awkwardly.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"You called Gideon! I traced his call and we got here as quick as possible…I don't know where Gideon is, though." He explained, his voice wavering.

She furrowed her brows and smirked at the manager, "I told you back-up was coming—"

"But it appears your back-up can't hold up his own." The manager laughed. A choking sound came from behind her and she lost concentration. Her head whipped around, the bodyguard's gun pointed at her forehead while her eyes locked on the bodyguard's big hand around Reid's neck, lifting him off the ground.

"Put him down or I'll shoot!" she growled pointing her gun at the bodyguard now. The manager laughed until Aurora pulled out her switchblade and stuck it to his neck, threatening to plunge it through. He sucked in a breath and held it.

Reid's weak hands scratched at the bodyguard's wrist and the German girl cried out as the color started to drain from his face.

"I said put him down or I. Will. Shoot." She ordered, pressing the knife harder against the manager's neck while simultaneously jabbing the gun into the chest of the bodyguard.

The bodyguard laughed and looked back at Aurora. He pushed the gun against her forehead and set his finger up to pull the trigger. Her eyes followed his finger and she opened her mouth to order him again when a shot rang out from across the stage.

A bullet entered the temple of the bodyguard and he fell back into a pile of curtain ropes. Reid collapsed to his knees and clutched at his throat. Aurora, now coming back to reality, spun her arm around to point at the manager, both the gun and the knife pointed at his head. The manager's eyes grew as wide as saucers and he began to sweat. Gideon appeared from the shadows, re-cocking his gun. The barrel of his gun connected to the temple of the manager and Gideon steadied his stance.

"Drop the gun." He growled.

The manager lifted his hands up and dropped the gun to the floor, letting go of the German girl. The girl leaped away from the manager into the arms of Reid who had just stood up and finished coughing. He awkwardly held her close, patting her shoulder, looking to Gideon for the next step.

"The other girl is in that room." Aurora muttered, gesturing to the small door behind the manager where they could hear a girl crying. Reid carefully walked around all of them and managed to lure the girl out of there and to the other girl, who he escorted out.

Gideon grabbed one of the manager's hands and stuck his gun back in his holster. He pulled out his cuffs and cuffed him, beginning to whisper his Miranda Rights into his ear before tugging him across the stage, almost causing him to stumble and fall.

Tiredly, Aurora dropped her gun and switchblade to her side and let out a long awaited breath. She closed her switchblade and stuck it into her pocket, scratching her head afterwards as she walked towards the actual stage of the Hall, examining every inch of it. The case, as quickly as she had been thrown in, had quickly ended. The process was long, but it ended in mere seconds. She stepped out onto the dark stage and looked out into the audience.

By the door, Gideon spoke with Aurora's head honcho, Special Agent Harold Barker. The rest of Gideon's team had gathered around them, including Dr. Reid and Special Agent Derek Morgan. She sighed and scratched her arm, trudging down the steps.

"Barker!" she called to him. Harold turned to look at her, as did the rest of Gideon's agents, staring at her oddly. But Harold smiled and walked towards her, extending a hand.

"Good work Agent Underwood, it took a while but you got the job done."

"Have you identified the other drug dealer?" she asked, setting her hands on her hips.

"Yes we have, he is identified as a local heroin dealer Titus Mahoney. We have agents on the way to apprehend him." He said to her as he led her back to the group of agents. Gideon smiled at her, as did Morgan, who slightly shook his head.

Harold gestured to the group, "Underwood, this is Special Agent Derek Morgan, Special Agent Dr. Reid, Special Agent Elle Greenaway and Special Agent Jennifer Jareau." He introduced her. She shook all their hands, nodding to each of them, introducing herself as Rory Underwood.

"Who knew you were an undercover FBI agent?" Morgan laughed, crossing his arms. She smirked and watched as Reid raised his hand.

Smirking, Morgan grabbed it and pulled it down, "It was rhetorical, genius."

Everyone chuckled and Aurora crossed her arms, "He really did know. You've got one smart kid on your team here." She admitted, smiling at him. Nervously, he looked her in the eye for a split second and then over at Agent Jareau, turning pink.

Aurora followed his gaze towards the small, blonde beauty and smirked before turning to Gideon, "Jason, thank you for everything. For checking up on me and all that jazz." She sighed, shaking his hand. He smirked and nodded.

"No problem, Rory. Anytime."

Harold patted Aurora on the shoulder and let himself out the front door. Gideon dismissed the rest of the team, staying behind to talk to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and started to lead her out, his hold tight and comforting. Aurora pointed a group of forensics towards backstage and they promised they would grab her things for her.

"You did great Rory, Harold wasn't kidding."

"I know he wasn't. But it's better hearing it from you than from him. Thank you for coming to save the day." She laughed.

"I see your ego didn't get hurt because you couldn't finish it alone." He joked. She shook her head as he took her to her car and opened the driver side door for her.

She snorted and sat down in the seat, crossing her legs, shrugging, "I'm so tired, I didn't care if it was you or a gang of neighborhood watchmen. The job got done."

Chuckling, he knelt beside her and patted her knee, noticing something in her tone, "You feeling all right?"

"I feel fine! Just tired, like I said." She sighed.

For a moment, he eyed her. They waited in silence until an agent brought out her purse and street clothes that they had found, telling her they put her phone in her purse for her. She checked the bag and then smiled at Gideon, "My work here is done."

He stood up and nodded, "True but what are they going to do about the Hall? Will it be closed?"

"Nope. I've had enough time out here to stake out new management material. I've also made a friend or two…people I can trust to run this place just fine—minus the drugs and human trafficking. I just hope women aren't afraid to audition here after what those two girls had to almost endure." She muttered, looking over at the two German girls who were being placed in a cop car. She pressed her lips together and rummaged through her bag.

Silence fell over them and Gideon stuffed his hands into his pockets, watching her. "You feel guilty. That you couldn't save that Swedish girl from before." He said, kicking at a rock on the concrete, saying it nonchalantly like he could read her like a book.

She squinted up at him, "And you feel sorry for me, for watching me feel so guilty."

"It's normal to be feeling the way you are Rory." He muttered, sounding saddened by the fact.

"Yeah well that doesn't make it any less better." She admitted with a relinquished sigh, tossing her bag onto the passenger seat. Like the profiler he was, he had pinpointed how she felt. For something that had happened two or three months before, she felt as if it was her fault that the Swedish girl had been sold right under her nose. "The thing about this job is…I'm supposed to protect people and I lost one girl. One girl too many." She muttered somewhat carelessly, having come to terms with the knowledge from past-lost cases or victims. Being an FBI agent, one had to know that stuff like that was going to happen a lot.

He nodded, "you knew the consequences of even having this sort of job."

She smirked, "I know, Jas, your team aren't the only ones who can profile people. I chose this case myself…I chose that creep. I knew something was up and I was too slow to get the evidence before hand. What if he's been smuggling girls behind my back for the past couple months?"

"We'll never know until we get him into questioning. Everything will get figured out. This is where my team comes in. This is where my team pulls him apart from the inside out…to pick out all the parts of him that could lead him to want to do what he does." Gideon explained.

"He's right you know." Reid's quiet voice said from beside them. Aurora gasped and put her hand over her heart.

"Dr. Reid! You always manage to startle me." She chuckled.

He stepped forward, "He is coming into our custody. With our prior knowledge thanks to you, we can easily get to him and figure out the underlying reasons as to why he's selling women onto the black market, not to mention drugs as well. There must be some reason other than money, like childhood trauma or abuse."

Aurora nodded, "Thank you Dr. Reid."

Gideon stood up and motioned for Reid to go back to his car. Reid nodded and bowed his head to Aurora, "Good night Special Agent Underwood."

She smiled and bid him good night as he hurried away. Gideon kissed her temple.

"If you ever want to come by the BAU we could always use an extra hand. Maybe brush up on your profiler skills." He smirked.

Looking up at him with a tired smile, somewhat ignoring his offer. Contrary to what she had previously thought before joining the FBI, you can't just switch departments so easily. "Thanks for the offer Jas but I'll have to think about it."

Pulling her legs into her car, he shut the door for her and everyone drove their separate ways; Gideon back to the agency along with his team, and Aurora went home, truly thinking about his offer.


The next morning arrived and Rory actually went into the FBI BAU, looking for Gideon to speak with him about what he had said the night before. His offer was too tempting and she lost sleep over it, because, maybe, becoming a profiler might help her be a better agent than she already is. Her reason was selfish, but everyone strives to be better.

But how could she be better at something she had never done?

She couldn't find him anywhere, at least not in the bullpen area around the desks. Across the room was a door that was wide open, like someone was preparing to leave. She ignored it and trudged into the bullpen, almost bumping into a plump blonde woman wearing very colorful clothes.

"Oh I'm so sorry." The woman apologized.

"It's not your fault, it's all right." Rory smiled.

For a moment the woman just stared at her, then stuck out her hand, "Penelope Garcia, I work here at the BAU…I don't know if I'm allowed to but…do you need anything?"

"Special Agent Rory Underwood…just came to visit Jason Gideon. I even have a nice, shiny visitors badge." Rory smiled, pulling at the badge that dangled from her hip.

"Gideon? He's right there!" Garcia smiled, pointing over her shoulder at the open door. Right as Rory's eyes darted up to it, she saw him exiting with another agent, a very stoic, focused looking man. She thanked Garcia and chased after them as they exited through a set of double doors.

Rory had to jog to actually catch up with Agent Hotchner and Gideon, but she got to them just before the interrogation room. She jogged up behind them and appeared beside Gideon, who was too busy sticking his nose into a file with Hotchner, who was explaining the details to him.

"Both of his parents have since deceased, so he really has no family to contact as far as we know." Hotchner muttered pointing at the information listed on the file.

Gideon rubbed his chin, "No siblings? No aunts, uncles? Grandparents?"

"None that have been listed in the United States. Maybe his connection to all the girls he's selling is because he was born somewhere else. European girls, European decent." Hotchner suggested.

"Could be," Gideon admitted, "but Reid suggested last night that abuse could've been a part of it. Or trauma."

Raising her hand slightly, Rory stepped in front of them, "Or a predetermined mindset of his."

The two men looked up and Hotchner furrowed his brows, looking at her in a way that wasn't exactly confused, but a little bit offended. Gideon smirked to himself, crossing his arms. Hotchner stood up straight and shut the file. "May we help you?"

"So sorry, I'm Special Agent Rory Underwood, I worked undercover for this case." She said, reaching out and shaking his hand. He seemed to relax when she said she was a special agent. Gideon watched them carefully, his face looking a little prideful.

"Nice to meet you Special Agent Underwood."

Gideon quirked a brow at her, "By a predetermined mindset you mean?"

Rory sucked in a breath and looked between the two men, "You said he could be from Europe. Maybe someone in his family, when he was a young child, taught him that girls who dressed themselves to sell themselves in some way deserved to be punished."

"Religious upbringing, maybe. His family disapproved of prostitutes or red light districts." Gideon suggested.

Hotchner twisted his mouth and opened the file again, "That wouldn't explain him selling them to the black market."

"Maybe he learned more about profit once he got to the states and realized he could gain more from selling them instead of killing him. America makes people greedy." Rory said, quirking a brow.

"Or he probably couldn't stomach the idea of killing them. Couldn't handle it." Gideon shrugged.

Not wasting anytime, Hotch entered the interrogation room, Gideon migrating towards the observation room. They walked alongside one another, Rory and Gideon, almost making it to the door when Gideon muttered to her, "I knew you couldn't resist."

Rory tried to stay in step with him, "Can I watch with you guys?"

Gideon had to think for a moment. He nodded and opened the door, "I don't see why not."

Allowing her to walk inside first, Rory entered to see Special Agents Elle Greenaway, and Derek Morgan. They both looked over their shoulders to see Gideon leading Rory inside the room. Morgan smirked and nodded towards them.

"Welcome to the watch room, Aurora." He smiled.

"Please, call me Rory." She said quietly, sounding very passive. She thought about how many people she had to tell her name to the past twelve hours while she was walking up beside him and pressing her hands into her pockets.

"Where's Reid?" Elle asked Gideon. He just shrugged.

"Garcia said he was here."

Just then, when Hotch finally started talking with the manager, the door to the observation room opened and Reid slunk inside, quietly closing the door behind him. They all just stared at him, hoping he'd feel their eyes digging into his back. Not looking where he was going though, Reid turned around and smacked into Rory, conking foreheads with her.

Everyone reacted differently; Gideon carefully pinched the bridge of his nose, Elle just shut her eyes in frustration, and Morgan just rolled his eyes trying not to laugh. Rory gasped and grabbed her forehead while Reid whined and poked at his own forehead.

"So sorry, I—Agent Underwood!" he said in surprise, opening one eye, still cringing in pain.

"Hi Dr. Reid." She muttered blinking away the pain. He opened his mouth to say something but shut it and awkwardly shifted to watch the interrogation.

Tuning into what Hotch was saying, they all saw him sitting calmly across from the manager. Nothing really big was happening. The manager was listening to Hotch explain to him what they had on him and what they were guessing was his deal. When all was said and done, Hotch closed the file and intertwined his fingers before him, cocking his head to the side. He asked the manager where he had come from.

The manager smirked and all of the agents in the observation room seemed to step closer to the window. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, "Raten Sie mal. Nicht einmal, wie ich spreche, wird es weggeben."

No one said anything, but everyone was thinking. Hotch stayed quiet for a moment, probably glaring at him, trying to silently piece things together in his head.

"He was speaking German. Dead give away." Morgan shrugged, crossing his arms. But his furrowing brows and apparent frown gave away that he knew there was more to that.

Reid looked at the group around him, "Maybe its not how he's saying it, but what he's saying. German is a very wide spread language over in Europe, especially after World War II; countries such as Austria, Luxembourg, and Switzerland have a large population with majorities that speak German mainly because of the common Roman Catholic faith."

Carefully, Gideon poked Rory's elbow. She whipped her head around to look at him, her face deep in concentration. Like Hotch, she was trying to think about what he was saying.

Over her years in school and for recreational purpose, she learned many languages and spoke them very brokenly. Only a few languages could really slip off of her tongue with ease, but German wasn't one of them.

"Did you catch what he said?" Gideon asked. Rory pressed her lips together and looked back at the manager and Hotch.

Hotch's voice came over the intercom, asking the manager to repeat himself, like he had planned on the team writing it down.

"Meine Ohren hören, denn ich bin kein Beethoven, nein, sondern ein Mozart." The manager said in a whisper, leaning forward to hiss through his teeth.

"He changed what he said." Elle grumbled, shifting her weight and turning to Gideon.

"He mentioned Beethoven—maybe he is from Germany." Morgan brought up, pointing at Reid for some reason. Reid opened his mouth to speak but Rory narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth first.

"But he also mentioned Mozart. He was born in Salzburg which would now be in present day Austria." She muttered.

Elle shrugged, "They both speak German, so he could be from Germany or from Austria. And now we have that narrowed down, what else did he say?"

Rory cringed and started twiddling her fingers next to her ears, "Something—something about listening…"

"Beethoven was deaf. Maybe he's comparing the two." Reid chimed in.

"Why compare them at a time like this." Gideon mumbled, talking to himself.

"No…he's narrowing it down further. Bin kein basically means 'not', so he's saying he's not like Beethoven—because he can hear?" Rory questioned.

"Exactly. So because he can hear, that's how he's Mozart, not Beethoven." Reid nodded, looking to Gideon.

"So you're from Austria." Hotch suddenly said, and they all turned to stare at the manager and Hotch. The manager smirked.

"Very good, special agent."

"Oh he is good." Rory muttered.

Hotch planted his feet onto the ground, firmly, "Did you grow up around Vienna?"

"Yes I did." The manager nodded.

There was silence. Hotch sucked in a deep breath, "What was it like…having to pass the red light district there?"

"The red light district." The manager repeated. "You think because I lived in a city with a red light district that I would sell women? Because it got me off? And you call yourself a profiler."

"That is why you're here, speaking with me. We can figure this all out with your cooperation." Hotch muttered, examining him.

A devilish smile appeared on the manager's face, shadowed by the light as he leaned forward onto the table, "Sleeping Beauty put you up to this. She thinks that because I've only sold European girls on the market, that I have some sort of sick, twisted fetish for watching them being auctioned off."

"And is she right?" Hotch asked without hesitation.

The manager paused. His smile dropped, "Only slightly."

Rory shifted her weight and clenched her jaw. The bastard was teasing her. From beside her, she could feel Reid's eyes boring into her, but she didn't acknowledge it. The manager leaned back in his chair.

"If only slightly, then what about this whole situation are you keeping from us? Are you just willing to sell any woman?"

They waited for the response on baited breath, "I do only sell European women—immediately. Otherwise…after a little proper tuning up, dance rehearsals, make over…I will sell other women."

"I see." Hotch muttered, writing it down in the file.

The manager smirked, "Sleeping Beauty caught me just in time, you know. Within the next two weeks I was preparing to pull her away and sell her off."

Laughter crammed into their ears and Rory gritted her teeth, "he's lying."

"How can you be sure?" Morgan asked, eyeing her, like it was more of a test that he knew the answer to.

Reid shook his head, "No, she's right. He saw how Gideon and I came to Underwoods aid last night and expects that if he torments her, he could push Hotch's buttons. Look," he pointed, "he's playing with his rings. He's anticipating Hotch losing his cool."

"But he wont, because he barely knows me. He just met me about five minutes ago."

Hotch shut the file, "I understand that you must've had a rough childhood. Growing up in a strict Roman Catholic family, devoted to God, living not too far from a street draped in Satan's vermin. I believe that you would be quick to sell Agent Underwood; she is a very talented woman, very beautiful. With your work, she would be easy to sell for a lot of money on the market. But she's not like European women. The only European women you ever knew were your Grandmother, your mother, maybe an aunt or two…"

"Yes, and?" the manager snapped slightly, glaring at Hotch.

"Those women are the pictures you have of European women. Your family taught you that. But you moved to America before you could peek the age of hormonal acceptance and couldn't get that bad taste of red district harlots out of your head. They were rats weren't they?" Hotch asked, standing up and pacing around the room.

The observation room grew tense and Rory bit her lip, watching the situation at hand go down.

"Filthy…Satan worshipping rats…Forever cemented into your brain as the scum of the earth. But God taught you one thing your parents didn't… "Do not repay evil with evil", Peter 3:9. And so…because he taught you violence was bad, and maybe you were just enlightened on the world of business…you decided the green was better than the red. Sell the beauties. Sell the rats. Am I right?" Hotch described, leaning down to speak right next to his ear.

The manager just sat there frozen. Hotch stood up and stared down at him, "You don't like blood do you. Is that it? The sight of blood make you queasy?"

Silence.

"Besides, all the money you get, you can use to buy drugs—which you know Americans love. Sell that all around and gather up enough money to last your lifetime." Hotch laughed. He rubbed his fingers together in front of the manager's face, "But supply and demand called upon you again. Over and over again, you get dirty money."

"Mein Geld ist schmutzig, aber nicht so schmutzig wie diese Huren gab ich weg. Sie haben verdient durch jemand anderen als mich geschlachtet werden." The manager hissed, his voice shaking.

Elle set her hands on her hips, "He's angering him."

"What did he say?" Gideon asked, touching Rory's elbow.

"That…his money is dirty…but not as dirty as the whores he sold. They deserved to be killed by someone other than him." She sighed.

"Confirms that he didn't want the blood on his own hands." Morgan shrugs.

"I think he means on his hands figuratively. Hotch must've been right about him hating blood." Reid muttered, crossing his arms.

Rory sighed and ran her hand through her hair as Hotch started speaking again. Gideon touched her shoulder, "Go get some air."

"I'm fine—"

"Reid, take her out into the hallway."

Awkwardly, Reid placed his hand between her shoulder blades and led her out into the hallway. She stepped out and walked across the hall to lean against the wall, running both her hands through her hair. The tension in that room had gotten to her, and hearing all these odd, sick things about her former manager—it made her feel horrible inside. Reid stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor.

"I don't get it." Rory muttered. Reid looked up at her. "I just don't get it. Maybe he's just sick…why can't we just put him away. Why does he need to tease us?"

"This is sort of like his psych evaluation, which is why Hotch is doing it. We know he's done it, but people want to know why. That's where we come in." Reid muttered, kicking the waxed floor. She shook her head.

"I can't imagine how you do it. Pushing your brains that hard to figure out one person that you barely even know. But you're good at what you do, so I have to give you that."

Reid smiled and nodded, "You're…you're not too bad yourself."

Breathily, she let out a laugh and shook her head, shutting her eyes gingerly, "I'm just an undercover FBI agent. Ordinary."

"You don't…have to be." He sort of chuckled, hesitantly saying it like he wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or not. He didn't want to push anyone's buttons.

Carefully, she leaned her head against the wall and squinted at the boy she barely knew. Was he basically making the offer Gideon had given her the night before? Maybe it was a sign.

"I don't know how to profile."

Reid stepped towards her, "'I don't' and 'I can't' are phrases people like to use when they think they aren't good for anything. You can be good at anything if you want to. Someone wise once told me, when he first hired me, it doesn't matter if you do not know how to completely do something now…what matters is that you learn how to do it better."

Her eyes softened; Gideon had said that. He had said that to her too when he first met her.

"…Who do I need to speak to?"