A/N: Greetings to the glitched community in which we refer to as society.
Another chapter here. I think I might stick to updating at the end of every month, although I might be able to squeeze another one in the next week, but no promises. Remember to review, it helps with my writing. Thank you to Hazel for helping me edit this chapter. I hope you feel better.

"Have a wonderful, bountiful, lustful day." - Joan Koh

SECTION ONE
PART TWO

Gasoline

I followed Reid into the large building. I have only been here twice before, but I was here long enough to know my way around. Either way, I continued to follow Reid to the elevators. I slowed my pace. "Are there stairs?"

Reid turned to look at me. "Um, yeah. Down that hallway and it's the last door on your left." He pointed to his left at a short hallway with around 5 doors on both sides. "Don't like elevators?"

"You know, the Bureau of Labor Statistics reported 68 elevator-related deaths from 1992 to 2003. That's around six per year, and if we want to get technical, 6.181818182."

He smiled. "Nice. We'll take the stairs."

I laughed and continued to follow him down the hallway, occasionally sipping my tea. I looked at the walls, noticing the awkward pictures that just happened to be there. They were of field agents in different departments of the FBI. I didn't get a long enough chance to read the metal plates on the frames because we reached the stairs. I threw the empty cup in a nearby trashcan.

"The BAU is on the fourth floor," Reid voiced.

"I know, I had to meet with Section Chief Strauss last week. Needed to finalize paperwork."

"Where did you work before to get fast tracked? Must've been important."

"CIA," I said shortly, attempting to end the conversation. He stopped on the third stairwell, causing me to bump into him and tumble down the stairs. We were only halfway up the third stairwell, but my side still stung when I hit the wall from my landing.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Reid rushed back down the stairs and knelt down next to me. I heard a door open and an unfamiliar voice called Reid's name.

"Reid? Was that you?"

"I'm fine," He responded, helping me up. "Are you okay?"

"You shouldn't stop in the middle of the stairs. I don't have good brakes."

Heavy footsteps bounded down the stairwell. I looked up as I stood, rubbing my arm. A well built black man came down the stairs and to us. He was donned in a grey t-shirt and dark blue jeans. His eyebrows raised at the sight of me. "Who is this?"

I stuck out my hand on the arm I didn't land on, "Dr. Courtney Porter. You?"

The mystery man took my hand and shook it. "Morgan. Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I'm fine. I'm not fragile."

The three of us continued to walk up the stairs and I felt grateful that I wasn't required to go into detail about my previous job at the CIA. "I heard Reid's shout, and thought he fell down the stairs. Luckily, I was heading this way, anyway."

"Why didn't you just go to the elevator?" Reid questioned as we exited the stairwell.

"It broke down," Morgan said. Reid and I stopped walking. "They're working on getting the people out." Morgan turned to look back at us. "What?"

We looked at each other. "6.181818182."

Morgan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

Reid smirked and I laughed. "Never mind," I replied, "Can you direct me to SSA Aaron Hotchner?"

"Follow me," Morgan answered. The man led me through the bullpen, which I had briefly visited last week. "His office is the first on the platform."

"Oh great, more stairs," I sighed before smiling at the two men and walking towards the office. The stairs were, like the floor of the bullpen, carpeted, and much easier to ascend. I knocked on the door and heard a faint, "Come in."

The mahogany wood door opened at the force of my hand and my eyes diverted to the man sitting behind the desk. The man, Agent Hotchner, was clad in a crisp suit and tie, his style perfectly fitting the "businessman" stereotype. He looked up at me, I assume noticed who I was, and stood to greet me. "Dr. Porter?"

I stuck my good hand out, resting my other arm on the top of my bag. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Hotchner."

"Call me Hotch," He stated, the serious look in his eyes never once wavering. "Sit down. I want to go over a few things with you."

I sat in the chair on the other side of his desk, using my non-bruised arm to lower my bag to the ground.

Hotch opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a file. "Your work is very impressive. I've been in contact with Panetta and I think your skill set would be valued here."

"Thank you. I assure you I will put my heart and soul into this job."

"That's what I want to talk about." He flipped to a certain page in the file and laid it in front of me. It was a picture of my old partner, Landin Kasik. "This is Kasik, am I correct?"

I nodded.

"It is imperative that you try to put this in your past. Every case we take, we count on each other with our life. Kasik was a bad man, and you can guarantee that every one of the agents here have gone through heavy background checks and I assure you that we will not allow any black hats on this team."

I smiled slightly. "I admit, my past with Kasik is one that I knew you would be worried about, but I do intend to put that behind me. I have been participating in a group therapy session that Panetta helped me get into once a week."

Hotch nodded shortly, flipping to another page in the file. "My next question is about your relationship to fFormer SSA Jason Gideon."

"It's in the file."

"I have the official case documents. What I don't have is your emotional recount of the incident."

I leaned back in my seat, folding my hand around the arm of the chair. "What do you want to know?"

"After the case ended, you kept in contact with Jason for a while. He impacted your life, am I correct to say that?"

I nodded, smiling slightly. "My brother and I used to go to his cabin with him for weeks at a time in the summer. He helped me with my schooling and introduced me to Leon. I understand that he was also in the BAU, but he taught me everything I knew going into college, where I expanded my learning."

Hotch nodded, looking down at the file.

"Listen," I said suddenly. His head glanced up, eyebrows slightly raised. "I know it isn't often that an agent gets fast tracked through the system, but I did and I will answer any question you have, but I can see that you have suspicions about my work performance in reference to my past. I want to do my best to save people before it's too late for them and they suffer the same fate as others. Profiling is a skill that I have been working on ever since I met Jason, and he taught me his ways. The only way my past would affect my performance would be in a positive way to help us catch these criminals."

Hotch looked surprised at my slight outburst, lowering the file slowly. I gulped. "I know."

"I know, I'm sorry- wait. What?"

"I know."

"You know what?"

"You want to save people because you know how it feels to lose people."

I put my head down. "This job is taxing. The only thing I'm worried about is your ability to cope with the triggering circumstances outside of cases. We can't save everyone, and that takes a toll on people."

I nodded, looking into his eyes with as much intensity as I could manage. "I will. If I have a problem with this job, I promise that I will say something. Unless you don't want to see me, then this is awkward."

Hotch smiled slightly. "I wouldn't be having this conversation with you if I didn't. You are a part of this team."

Unfortunately, before he could finish his thought, a knock sounded on the door. "Come in."

A young blonde woman entered the small office looking at the file in her arms. "Sir, I've gathered everyone in the- Oh! Hello!"

Hotch stood, me following. "JJ, this is Dr. Courtney Porter. JJ is our communications liaison."

JJ reached a hand toward me. I took it. "Is JJ short for something?"

"Jennifer Jareau," She smiled. JJ turned to face Hotch. "I've gathered everyone in the roundtable room."

Hotch nodded. "Follow me, Dr. Porter."

We left the office and continued walking down the raised platform. When we entered what I believed to be the roundtable room. I spotted Reid and Morgan sitting at the table, along with two other people.

"This is SSA Dr. Courtney Porter," Hotch announced. "Dr. Porter, SSA Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid."

I waved before sitting down at the table. All of a sudden, a woman wearing blue and purple dress with white lace and blonde hair quickly walked into the room on her heels. "Okay, sorry I'm late." She stopped before the last open chair that did not have a case file before it. "Oh! Hello! Who are you?"

"Garcia, this is Dr. Porter," Hotch informed the colorful woman. "Garcia is our Technical Analyst."

"Hi," I replied.

"You're really pretty," Garcia said, still standing.

"Garcia," Hotch said, a stern look stationed on his face.

"Right, sorry," She replied, setting her coffee on the table and sitting in the chair.

"Okay," JJ said, still standing in front of the large monitor. I opened the case file. "Let's get started. This is Gabby Hail from Little Rock, Arkansas. She went missing three weeks ago, and turned up in the Arkansas River 6 days ago. Right after that, Audrey Clementine disappeared."

"They were both taken from a movie theater?" Rossi asked.

"Well, it was the last place they were seen, so possibly."

"The C.O.D. was drowning, right?" Morgan asked.

"That's why we were called in. The toxicology reports found gasoline in her stomach and/that suggest that the unsub used gasoline to drown her."

Unsub? Usually, the term is subject. Unsub? Un-Subject? Unknown subject? That makes more sense.

"Gasoline?" Rossi questioned. "Why gasoline? There are a lot of other, cheaper, options."

"Gasoline contains hydrocarbons, and gasoline poisoning is very volatile, and causes throwing up blood, seizures, dizziness, drowsiness, euphoria, et cetera," I said. Reid looked at me.

"Maybe it's personal?" Morgan answered.

"Was there any sign of sexual assault?" Prentiss asked. I glanced down at the file.

"There wasn't."

"So," I started, "she was last seen at a movie theater? That's a low risk area. The unsub probably got her as she was leaving and getting into her car, but even then, people probably would have seen her."

"Maybe he used a ruse?" Morgan suggested. "'I lost my dog, can you help me'?"

Hotch stood up, straightening the files he was holding. "We will talk more on the plane, wheels up in thirty."