Have fun! -TPP

-Profile Me, Doc-

Part 2.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Rossi asked quietly, staring at the slender genius standing next to him as Reid's eyes burned through the one-way glass, "I was with him five minutes and he nearly cracked me. Sure you can take the heat?"

"I really wish everyone would stop underestimating me," Reid said evenly, hands in his pockets as he continued to stare through the glass at the psychotic clown.

"Dave isn't undermining your abilities," Hotch said, arms crossed, "He's concerned, you know that, Reid. We've never interrogated someone so…interesting."

Reid's eyes flickered over to Hotchner, the look almost menacing. Hotchner was taken aback; it was very rare for Reid to exude hostility, "How many times have you beaten me at poker, Hotch?"

"Never," Hotch replied, his brow furrowing. What was Reid getting at?

"And Rossi's never beaten me at chess," Reid said matter-of-factly, arms crossed over his chest now, "This UnSub is a mastermind in strategy, even if he claims ignorance. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's thinking three steps ahead. And if he's a sadist as we have profiled him to be, he's expecting a weak and meek little me. Right now, we have the upper hand, and I'm going to keep it that way."

With no further ado, Reid left the small room and admitted himself into the interrogation room, Hotch and Rossi watching through the glass with worried eyes.

XXX

Joker's head lifted when he heard the door to the interrogation room open once more, revealing a very tall and slender young man with intelligent brown eyes.

Joker whistled, "Well Hellooooo beautiful."

Joker laughed internally as the young doctor took the vacant seat across from him, his poker face on.

Oho, this was going to be soooo much fun.

"You're really rude," Joker said, shaking his head slightly, "Can't even say HI."

"You obviously already know who I am, as you asked for me specifically," Reid said using his no-nonsense tone, "I'm here. Give us the name of the hotel right now."

Joker's grin unsettled Reid, but he tried to keep his body language cool and composed. It wasn't very often that he played himself off as an alpha personality, but he would have to show Joker that he wasn't a sniveling little nerd for him to toy with.

"SURE," Joker said, putting his handcuffed hands out in front of him on the table and leaning in slightly, his tongue flicking out quickly to lick the grease paint from his bottom lip, "The Straus Grand. Corner of 22nd and Cisarro."

Joker knew that the other government big wigs were probably dialing out at that very second behind the glass, but it didn't matter. Joker giggled, "Make sure they, uh, check ALL the ventilation shafts. Rigged that puppy about a month ago, so my memory's a little FUZZY. Forty stories is going to, hah, TAKE a while."

"You orchestrated the bombing of a hotel that could potentially kill over 10,000 people a MONTH ago?" Reid furrowed his brow, hoping his voice sounded cynical and not awestruck.

"What can I say? I'm a BUSINESSMAN," Joker said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he looked at Reid through his streaked face paint, "Even psychopaths need INSURANCE, Doc."

Reid's eyes darted across the Joker's face, "Exactly. You're a psychopath and a textbook sociopath with paranoid delusions of grandeur. My inferences would suggest that you are incapable of a high order of intelligence due to your instability in…"

"Your voice is very nice," Joker cut in, nodding his head several times, his green-streaked hair bobbing on his shoulders, "I'm gonna be honest with you, all that technical psycho-mumbo-jumbo spilling out of that delicious mouth of yers is, uh, kinda turning me on."

Reid stiffened, his fingers clenching on top of his legs, "W-what?"

"Haha," Joker said, smiling wide as he wiggled in his seat before sitting back in it, cocking his head to the side, "I'm glad I, uh, asked for you. You're absolutely adorable. So much more DELICIOUS in person."

XXX

"He's losing it in there," Rossi mumbled, his eyes still trained ahead of him as he listened to the audio feed coming into the room.

"He'll get back," Hotch said confidently, "He'll figure it out. The Joker just caught him off guard. He's playing games now."

"Now?" Rossi scoffed, "He's been playing them all along."

XXX

"U-um, that was, um, a very strange deflection," Reid murmured, looking down at his hands before looking back at the Joker. What was he kidding? The UnSub had just managed to destroy his alpha-like confidence in less time than it took Reid to win his chess matches.

"Ahhh," Joker said, leaning forward in his seat again, "THERE you are, Spencer. Wondering when you were going to SHOW UP."

"What are you talking about? I don't understand."

"That macho crap that, uh, they teach interrogators these days…" Joker wiggled his nose, his brows drawn together like he was looking at something rather disgusting, "Doesn't suit you, Doc. At, at your, uh, CORE, you're a LOVER not, uh, FIGHTER, am I right?"

"I am an agent of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI…"

"Sure, sure," Joker said, licking his scars again, "But uh, you're also a, uh, young GENIUS with the, uh, social skills of a slug. You're not, you're not like them. You're not. You're special, UNIQUE, hm? You, you're the smartest kid in the room, all the time, and they, they look at you, like…like you're a FREAK."

Spencer cast his eyes down again, wishing his growing wavy hair would cover his face so he could hide. This UnSub sure knew how to draw on his insecurities.

Reid knew that. He'd done most of the profiling for this UnSub, and yet he was still letting him toy with him. No, he would NOT let that happen.

Reid lifted his head, his gaze smoldering, "I'm NOT a freak."

Joker's lips turned up in a smile and Reid couldn't help but think how attractive it was even with the garish paint, "I didn't SAY you were, did I? But I know what it feels like, for everybody to look at you like you're one. People are always afraid of anything that's different."

"So is that why you do it? Kill innocent people?"

Joker looked at Reid with a serious face, his eyes so brown they were practically black, "Nobody's innocent."

"What about children? Aren't they innocent?"

Joker slammed his hands down on the table, making Reid jump, "CHILDREN are even more EVIL and CRUEL than adults. I know so. That's in your psychology textbooks too, isn't it? That CHILDREN carry sociopathic tendencies, therefore they cannot be properly diagnosed until the tender age of eighteen. CHILDREN have to learn MORALITY and ETHICS that haven't been ingrained fully yet, hm? That's the PARENT'S job, isn't it, Doc? To make sure their kids grow up with ETHICS and MORALS? But they don't learn soon enough, do they? They hit and slap and call each other names before they're old enough to be on a playground. CHILDREN, my good doctor, is where it all begins."

"It's true that mental illness can manifest itself at an extremely early age, but…"

Joker shook his head, looking Spencer right in the eyes, scaring him, "THEN EVERYONE IS MENTAL. If you ask me, school is a form of corporal punishment. If they really want to keep killers and thieves off the streets, send them back to school instead of jail. They'll kill themselves instead of wasting your VALUABLE tax-paying DOLLARS."

Reid wasn't sure what angle to use with this UnSub anymore. Reid couldn't help but secretly agree with everything the Joker was saying. He himself had been a victim of vicious Vegas school systems. It hadn't been easy being a twelve-year-old prodigy in high school. He of all people knew how damaging social circles with children could be, "I'm assuming you had a hard time growing up. Was school a challenge for you?"

Joker tilted his head again, "I, uh, never finished school, UNFORTUNATELY."

"Why not?"

Joker ran a hand through his green and dirty blonde locks, "I, uh, I had a hard time, um, FOCUSING. I couldn't…I couldn't sit STILL. My teachers were pretty much INSANE by the time I was EIGHT. I failed at everything because, because I couldn't FOCUS, but I got better when Tommy Stevens called me a dunce. I hated that little bastard. He was, he was always taking my crayons."

Joker ran his hands together, like he was warming his hands over a fire, "I got on some medications and it got easier. I showed him, I showed TOMMY just how STUPID I really was. I was doing trigonometry and that little shit still didn't know his multiplication tables."

"Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder," Reid said, his brow furrowing as he scribbled notes down on the paper he had brought in with him in the file, "You were brilliant but people failed to acknowledge it due to your learning disability. Y-you were a genius."

"I had testing done when I turned thirteen," Joker continued, looking at Reid while licking his scars, "they moved me into more advanced programs, but I didn't like it. It was too BORING. The older kids, they were no fun at all. They looked at me like you look at me. A FREAK."

"Your testing, I'm assuming an Intelligence Quotient test?" Reid said, his mind scrambling to regain control of the interrogation. The more Joker talked, the more they'd have to solidify a profile that could lead to his true identity. They already had one name to run through Garcia's databases, maybe he'd give up another, or even better, the elementary school, middle school, and high school he attended, "What was your score?"

Joker huffed, looking bored, "That's not important."

"Yes it is," Reid said, feeling giddy at the thought of finally learning this man's true identity, "What about the schools you attended? What programs did they put you in?"

"I told you they were boring," Joker said, shrugging, "I don't like to, uh, think about boring things. I wanna think about...INTERESTING things."

"Okay, what do you find interesting?" Reid said, setting his pen down and giving the Joker his full attention. Maybe if he let his guard down a little bit and acted friendly, the Joker would open up more and accidentally slip more useful information.

The Joker licked his scars again, wiggling on his chair, "Let's see: gunpowder, nitroglycerin, matches, knives…and, uh, YOU."

"Me?"

Joker nodded, "It's not every day I'm left alone in a room with an attractive guy like you in handcuffs. Now that's what I call, hah, INTERESTING."

Reid felt a blush creeping up his neck and face as the Joker studied him, a grin widening on his face as he watched that said-blush.

"You're fucking adorable," Joker sighed, leaning in, his dark eyes shiny with interest and what Reid read as lust, "I just wanna LICK that blush right off of you, DOC."

Reid was horrified to feel himself growing aroused. He unconsciously touched his tie as if to loosen it, shaking his head, "You're being inappropriate. This is an interrogation."

"It's an interrogation for THEM," Joker said, nodding towards the one-way glass, "But not for us. I know this is, uh, a shitty first date, but uh, I'd like to make it up to you with a second one."

Reid knew that the man sitting in front of him was a lunatic with an IQ that probably mirrored his own, but he couldn't help but feel flattered at the man's words. Disturbing sexual images suddenly lit up behind his eyes and his heartbeat quickened, "Joker, take this seriously."

"I AM," he said, his grin lecherous, "So serious, in fact, I'm willing to kill for it."

Reid's eyes widened, "What?"

"I want you to remove my handcuffs and walk out of the bureau with me," Joker said, looking at Spencer with excited eyes, "I'm gonna take you out on a REAL date, show you the REAL New York City, MY City. And we're gonna eat, most DEFINITELY. Ya like Italian? This guy I used to know, Sironi, he told me about this little place…"

"I'm tired of your games!" Reid said, standing up suddenly from his chair and slamming his hands down on the table in front of him, "You're not walking out of here, Joker, at least not unbound. You're going to stand trial and then you're going to be locked away in a high security mental institution for the rest of your life!"

"Maybe we can share a cell," Joker said, grinning madly at Spencer as he fumed, "Us FREAKS need to stick together, after all. Schizophrenia's a terrible debilitating mental disease, don't you think, Doc?"

Spencer was furious. As far as he knew, there had only been one article leaked in the papers about his mother's mental history, and that had happened over a year ago. Reid had always been super careful about her safety and it didn't help that Reid had always been concerned with the idea that schizophrenia was passed genetically, "You're mad."

"Madder then a Hatter," Joker agreed, sitting up straight in his chair and leaning slightly towards Reid, "And you're my little Alice. Just accept the fact that you tumbled down the rabbit hole, sweet pea. You're in MY Wonderland now, and what I say goes."

"This conversation is over," Reid husked, picking up the file and ready to make his exit, "Let me know when you're ready to take things seriously."

The Joker moved fast as lightning, jumping from his chair, his arms slipping over and around Reid's neck easily, the chains tugging against his throat as Reid stepped back into the Joker's torso. Joker held him tight, cutting off his air supply as Reid's delicate fingers clawed and scratched at Joker's arms.

Joker giggled, "Then let's take this SERIOUSLY, shall we?"

The interrogation room door had been opened by a frantic Hotchner, but Joker pivoted towards the corner, Reid's body covering his completely. Hotchner had drawn his weapon, but it was useless: he'd have to shoot Reid to get to Joker.

"I told you we were going to walk out of here," Joker husked into Spencer's ear, making him shiver.

"This won't work," Reid gasped out, knowing there would be welts on his neck if he survived this encounter.

"Oh it will," Joker giggled, licking the shell of his ear, "Remember my, uh, insurance policy?"

XXX

Hotchner and Rossi both had their weapons drawn, mortified at the scene before them. It made sense now: of course Joker had wanted the weakest member of the team for this little stunt. It was ballsy, Rossi would give him that, but he wasn't going to let the maniac get very far.

Reid's safety was the top priority at this moment.

"Joker, think this through," Rossi began, his issued side arm drawn and ready, "You won't make it four blocks. Let go of the kid and we'll talk."

"Hehe," Joker giggled into Reid's ear, "They called you a kid when you are, uh, most DEFINITELY not. I'd say, what? Twenty-four? Twenty-five tops?"

Reid didn't really have air to argue. He was concentrating on keeping himself calm and in as much control of himself as he could, but it certainly didn't help matters that he could feel Joker's incessant erection bumping against his ass.

And it certainly didn't help that his body was reacting from the treatment.

Maybe Spencer really was beginning to lose his mind.

"You're deflecting again," Hotch said, his eyes hard, "Let go of Reid and we'll work something out."

"You see, THAT'S your problem. You have NOTHING I want," Joker said dryly, the chain rattling as he tightened it more on Reid, barely allowing him any air now, "I got what I wanted. I ALWAYS get what I want, and what I want is right here. Now, if you two gentlemen would be so kind as to move aside, I'd like to peacefully make my exit."

"What makes you think you even have a chance of getting out of here alive?" Rossi said testily.

Joker licked at his scars before sighing, "Ya know, for, uh, world-famous profilers, you two sure are DENSE. I thought you guys specialized in BEHAVIOR and whatnot, but APPARENTLY you haven't been paying ATTENTION. Everything…everything happens for a reason."

"I'm not going to ask again," Rossi said, "Let go of the kid."

"If I do that…" Joker began, settling his chin comfortably on one of Reid's shoulders, "A lotta people are gonna die."

Reid tensed as Hotch and Rossi looked at the man in horror.

"You're bluffing," Rossi finally challenged, "We took care of the bombing situation at Strauss Grand. You've got nothing."

"Oh REALLY? Because last time I checked, uh, I had a thousand oil barrels rigged and ready to explode. You know how many city BLOCKS that can destroy, DAVE? I don't know the answer either, but uh, if you DON'T give me one of those nifty black SUVs and allow Spencer and I to go on our date, we're all gonna find out."

"You're insane," Rossi spat as Hotchner slowly lowered his gun.

Joker shrugged, "I get that a lot."

XXX

"We don't even have proof that he's telling the truth!" Rossi fumed as he watched the Joker close the driver's door on the government-issued SUV, Reid already in the passenger seat.

All the bureau's cops stood on the steps, staring at the horror they were allowing to unfold in front of them. They really didn't have a choice: thousands of people were going to die if they hadn't let Joker go. Joker had seemed pretty indifferent over the entire thing, as if remaining at the bureau wouldn't have been that big of a deal.

Lives meant nothing to him. Innocent lives meant even less.

The only thing that hurt more was knowing that Reid had been sucked into the mess, and he didn't know if Reid would be walking away from it alive.

Rossi and Hotchner had alerted the other cops to lower their weapons when they had emerged into the main bullpen area, some of them even lashing out and cursing as they watched the Joker drag a suffocating Reid out the front door with promises to give them the location of the barrels as soon as he had been driving for ten minutes and was positive that no one had followed.

"Follow me and I blow them all," Joker had warned, "and if I'm feeling especially, uh, irritated, I'll kill even more tomorrow."

The only good thing was that Hotch had heard Joker promise Spencer that he wouldn't kill anyone over the course of the next twenty-four hours and he had sworn that no harm would come to the young doctor.

"Psychopaths are incapable of true feelings, you know that," Rossi barked the second the SUV pulled away from the curb and began driving way past the legal limit, "Reid's not safe, not even for a moment with someone as unstable as the Joker."

Hotchner sighed heavily, feeling like a thousand pound weight had just been settled on his shoulders, "Hopefully Reid figures out a way to keep those affections."

In the next second Hotchner was on his cell phone, "Garcia, I need you to run a tracker and triangulate a position on this license plate…"

Smut coming next chapter. Be warned! If you're not into slash, stop reading!