A/N: Kso. Please tell me what you think! Is it realistic?

Well, Emirly had some friends; and by some... There's one. Well, no, she's not even a real friend. She's a friend she talks to on a chat site. Emirly sat in a cushioned antique Victorian style looking seat at a very modern styled desk with a brand new laptop she purchased that day. She used to have a desktop, but while she was out getting a cellphone... She thought, "What the heck? Why not."

She was customizing her new toy right now. That was her thing. Everything she owned had to be hers and very uniquely hers. She'd already gone through her phone and changed all the wallpapers, ringtones, themes, etc. to something that reflected her. She added all her online accounts she could to the apps provided. She gave her laptop striped wallpaper. Stripes. She enjoyed stripes. Going onto her browser, she added all her frequent websites to her favorites so they'd always be there.

After that, she logged onto the chatsite. It was a 2D avatar chat based around animals. She was a 'maicid'. Azuel, her friend, was on. Immediately, Emirly began to ask for advice on guys. Azuel, however, was a lesbian.

Eemirtin: Hey Az, I got this kids number today.

Azuel: lol you don't have a cell girl.

Eemirtin: I bought one.

Eemirtin: Oh, and a new laptop. :)

Azuel: oh you like him don't you?

Eemirtin: Maybe, I don't know. Should I call him? He's really, really

Smart.

Azuel: why are you even askin me? of corse you should call him.

Eemirtin: Asking*, Of course*

Azuel:...youre smart, too.

Azuel: how smart?

Azuel: is he old?

Eemirtin: He has three PhD's and he doesn't look old. He appears to

be about my age.

Azuel: dood go for it.

Eemirtin: I don't know.

Azuel: text him

Azuel: thats always easier

Eemirtin: How do I text? What if his phone can't receive texts?

Azuel: worry wort.

Eemirtin: Wart*

Azuel: call him.

Eemirtin: :/

Azuel: i kno you want to

Eemirtin: Alright. I'm going to go so I can call him. Bye3

Azuel: yeah huh. bye3

Emirly pulled out the cellphone she bought earlier today. Yesterday she met a guy who was obviously extremely smart for his age. She hypothesized he had a job where he traveled a lot. This would be good for Emirly because she like space and short savored moments of spontaneous fun. He was cute in a nerd kind of way, but so was Emirly. She was, after all, a girl who tucked in her t-shirts and rolled her jeans up to just about her ankles because she thought it was 'cool'. Biting her lip, she wrote down the number she had filed away in her brain and pinned it to a cork board on the wall behind her laptop. She chewed it over and decided to call next week after he returned the books.

Morgan and Reid walked into the police station; Reid had only one of the books he borrowed the prior day. Hotch, Prentiss, and Rossi were going over victimology in their base.

"Hey, we're just going over victimology." Prentiss said, observing a picture in her hand while sitting on the table in the middle of the room.

Morgan took a bite of the donut he had, picking up another photo.

"He seems to like brunettes... different types of shades..." Hotch mumbled, glaring at the cork board with all the pictures of the current victims. There were five. He abducts female, rapes, tortures, and then kills. But he doesn't kill until after he's abducted another girl first. All five of these poor girls lost their lives in the span of three weeks. Right now, they know he has a girl or he's looking for a new one.

Reid studied the board, a grave look coming over his face.

"What's the matter, kid?" Morgan asked, food in his mouth.

Reid glanced at him, "Nothing. Just..." He paused, uncertain of what he's saying. "That girl we met at the library fits victimology."

"You mean you met?" Morgan came to stand by Reid, "Worried about her?"

"I guess. I just met her, but I can't help but wonder if she's the next victim or not. I don't have a number to call and check on her with."

"Garcia can get an address?" Morgan suggested.

"Wouldn't that appear... odd?" Reid said, that signature soft rumble catching in his voice for a second.

"Just tell her the truth." Morgan said nonchalantly.

"I can't." Reid said remembering it was against work policies to help friends and families with the knowledge they know.

"Technically, she's a potential victim. She could even be in the process of being abducted right now." Morgan said slyly.

Reid's eyes widened "Don't do that." Morgan was actually scaring Reid a little now. Reid noticed the resemblance between Emirly and the victims was almost uncanny. It was odd.

Out of the corner of his eye, Reid could see Morgan slowly pulling his cell out; slowly pressing a speed dial number, and slowly putting the phone to his ear.

"Morgan..." Reid began turning to him, "Do-"

Morgan began talking and Reid couldn't help but listen. "Hey baby girl what's my piece of bright sugar doing?" Morgan paused for Garcia to say something. "Yeah, hey baby girl, off the record, I need you to look up an address for me." Morgan chuckled at something she said, nodding. Then he moved the phone away from his mouth, "What was the girl's name, again?" He asked Reid.

"Emirly. She didn't give a last name." Reid said automatically. He looked over at Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss. Prentiss was actually gone out of the room and Rossi was staring at the board. Hotch was on the phone. He prayed that they didn't hear his and Morgan's conversation.

"Yeah, Emirly." Morgan's voice snapped Reid out of his wandering thoughts, and he crossed his arms over his chest. Reid shook his head signaling he didn't know how to spell it.

"Just put in all the possibly spellings. There can't be more than one is this same city." Morgan gave up. Pause. "Alright. Really?"

Reid rocked on his feet for a moment.

"We got an address." Morgan quickly thanked Garcia with a sweet word or two and while writing down the address for Reid.

"What?" Hotch asked.

"Oh nothing, just something for Reid." Morgan patted Reid roughly on the back, handing him the paper with the address on it.

"When should I go over there?" Reid whispered to Morgan.

"Not now. We need you." Morgan teased.

Emirly sat on her fluffy recliner indulging herself in a book. She had only a lamp on in her small living area. On the table next to her, she had some coffee. It was light; a lot of milk and sugar. With her eyes on the page still, she reached over and grabbed her cup to take a sip. It wasn't there. Emirly felt around for it. She still couldn't find it. "What the.." She looked over at the table. It wasn't there... but something was. Slowly, her eyes drew up. A dark figure stood no more than three feet away from her, sipping her coffee.

"It's good." The figures voice was dark, and rumbled like a passing train. Emirly let out a blood curdling scream. The figure dropped the coffee and the cup landed with an odd sounding thud. Emirly paused, tears at her eyes. Suddenly, the coffee was in the figures hands again, then back on the floor. It was a knock. Emirlys eye shot open.

She'd fallen asleep while reading Patricia Cornwell. Of course, she had a bad dream. But the knocking... Someone was knocking. Emirly flung herself out of her chair and bounded over to the door. Without thinking about the peep hole, she put her ear to the door and said loudly, "Uh, who g-goes there?" She was somewhat thankful a stranger knocked her out of her bad dream, but was apprehensive about who it could be.

"It's, uh, Spencer. From the library?" A somewhat familiar voice came back.

Spencer? How did he get her address? She furrowed her eye brows. "Uh, what time of day is it?" she asked, stalling.

"It's night actually." Spencer responded, "Uh, nine 'o' clock on the dot."

Emirly slowly opened the door, leaving the chain on. Spencer was not stronger enough to break the chain lock; she was safe. "What could possibly drag you here at this ungodly hour?"

"You, uh, you d-didn't call." Spencer was blushing heavily; obviously he was embarrassed to be showing up inexplicably at her door.

"I didn't give you my address." Emirly said quietly.

"I, uh, work for the FBI."

"Oh." That explained it all. "Oh! Would you like to come in then?"

"If it's okay with y-you."

Emirly undid the chain lock and opened to the door for Spencer to come in. He stepped in cautiously, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. His face was still crimson.

"Make yourself comfortable. Is there a particular reason you stopped by?" Emirly asked, nonchalantly, secretly she was hoping it was one of those cheesy romance novel lines. 'I just wanted to see you' or something. Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but Emirly, interrupted, "Do you drink coffee?" She asked, remembering her dream. She glanced at her coffee on the table. It must be cold.

"Were you sleeping? Did I wake you?" Spencer asked, looking her over. "A-and, yes I drink coffee."

"Kind of, yeah." Emirly admitted, but she'd tell him about how he saved her from a bad dream. "Want some? Coffee, that is. Not sleep. Though you look, tired, you probably would like some sleep. Though, if that were the case wouldn't you be sleeping. Oh, sorry, I'm rambling. I get that way when I get nervous sometimes. "

Spencer chuckled a little, "I'm sorry for waking you, I can leave if you want."

"N-no, you saved me from a bad dream." Emirly recited the words she rehearsed in her mind. "Coffee?"

"Sure, uh, a lot of sugar please, if you don't mind." Spencer sputtered.

Emirly paused, unable to gather her thoughts for a moment, looked at Spencer, and then headed around the corner to her kitchen. "Would you like a snack, too?" She called from the kitchen. Spencer appeared around the corner. He was looking at around at her cabinets. They were cheery would with stained glass windows. "Very nice cabinets." Emirly listened as he went on about something about architecture that was somehow related to her kitchen. She smiled, amused.

"So, why did you come over?" Emirly interrupted.

"I wanted to check on you."

"How come?" Emirly slowly, handing him a cup of coffee.

"Just something-" Spencer was cut off by Emirly making an inference.

"Something with the FBI? Am I targeted? Is it those murders?" Emirly asked. She paused when she noticed the look of shock on his face, then she quickly explained. "I saw the girls on the news. I noticed they all looked similar, and I also noticed they looked like me. I've been careful. Exhibit A. " She gestured to her door, talking about how she was reluctant to let a familiar in.

Spencer mouth 'oh', nodding. This girl was intuitive. They two headed back to the living space. Spencer took a seat on the love seat and Emirly sat back on her fluffy chair. She picked up her book, saved the page and set it on the table.

"Patricia Cornwell! I love her books." Spencer said.

"I suspect you've read them all?" Emirly said, looking at him slyly.

"Of course." Spencer responded with mock hurt that she'd think for a moment he hadn't. He was charming.

"So, exactly how old are you?" Emirly asked.

"Twenty-eight."

"I'm twenty-four." Emirly said.

"I like your socks." Spencer commented as Emirly pulled her feet up next to her. They were bright aqua and dark orange stripes.

"Thank you."

For about two hours the two talked about anything under the sun. It was an easy conversation. One that Emirly or Spencer hadn't had in a while. It wasn't strained, and no one was teasing someone. There wasn't an unsub they had to find. For a moment, Spencer forgot about everything else. For a moment, Emirly remembered she wasn't alone.