'Issac Newton's law of thermodynamic energy suggests to us that energy is neither lost nor destroyed, it is simply transferred from one party to the next.'

Autumn arrived early in D.C. with an unusual chill. Light was scarce as the moon was but a sliver in the sky. Leaves, as well as confetti covered the stadium. Silence had fallen now but hours beforehand, a victorious win for the home team had been celebrated. After the crowds were gone, the star player and his girlfriend took advantage of a secluded spot under the bleachers.

Heavy breaths and deep gasps were all that filled the silence for awhile. Despite the girl's subtle whines of protest, her boyfriend's fingers cascaded down with the zipper of her hoodie between them. Goosebumps covered her shoulders as they was exposed to the cold. But it wasn't until a noise came from nearby that she pulled away and whispered, "Brent. Stop... Did you hear that?"

Rolling his eyes, the stocky, young athlete flashed an arrogant smirk and pulled the girl back into his grasp, "Hear what?"

From a different direction, she heard it again. Only this time it was closer. And now she felt a pair of hunger eyes on her that didn't belong to her boyfriend. All of this of course went undetected by him. As his tongue slid along her neck, the girl grew tense and tried again to recoil, "I think we should just go to your house. If we get caught on campus after hours-"

"Just shut up, Candi. Jesus. You're acting like such a cock-blo-"

Out of no where, the gleam of a knife appeared pressed to the boy's neck. Before his girlfriend had a chance to scream, she was ordered not to make a sound. If she disobeyed, Brent would die. Her trembling became more intense as the pretty blond was forced onto the football field at gun point. The dark, hooded figure, who was doubly-armed also carried a rope and there was no telling what he or she had planned.

The young girl followed every order. She did everything was told. But it wasn't enough to save her. Because sometime in the night... Candice Berkley screamed.

Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan released an exasperated sigh before entering the conference room to find most of the rest of his team waiting. His attention was first aimed at JJ who greeted him with a courtesy nod but no smile. "You know somethin' JJ," he began, taking his seat, "You're lucky I love you like I do 'cause had it been anyone else callin' in on the date I had tonight, I woulda' hung up."

Although he was clearly teasing, JJ didn't respond in Morgan's favor. She merely took his complaint seriously by offering a halfhearted apology and moving swiftly on. "I realize this could have waited until the morning but... something about this case is telling me we need to be on it now."

Gruesome images appeared on the wall from the projector, causing Garcia to look away. Realizing JJ was ready to start the meeting, Morgan quickly interjected before she could begin, "What about Reid? Wasn't he due back today?"

"His plane from Corpus had just landed when I called him. He should be here soon but he said to start without him and to fill him in on the details later."

A year ago, the idea of the young genius being late would have stunned the team. However, the demanding expectations of his occupation aside, lately all of Reid's free time had been spent preparing for the upcoming trial concerning Adam Jackson's appeal. He had been burning candles at both ends, devoting his every fiber towards preparing for the trial and gathering all the evidence he could to prove Adam's innocence.

While his intentions were all well and good - they were starting to cause some faulty setbacks in Reid's life. And the team was beginning to notice. But nothing could be done at that moment so without their youngest colleague, JJ began to brief the others on just what they were looking at.

"Alright. July 2. Thirtysix-year-old, Carly Davis and her four-month-old daughter, Emma. Neighbors found both mother and daughter sitting in Miss Davis's car, still in the garage with gunshots to the face. Police deducted that the deaths occurred sometime in the early morning as Miss Davis was leaving for her mother's. There were no witnesses and some cash, jewelry and other valuables were missing from the victims personal items."

It was strange to hear JJ speak in such a manner to the team. Sure, she was always professional but something was off about her on this particular night. Perhaps it was her maternal side, utterly disgusted by the horror that had befallen a newborn. The scene on the wall changed again and this time was somehow a little less heart-wrenching to the team.

"One month later, August 13. Peter Johnson, age forty-four and an unidentified woman - believed to be a prostitute - found stabbed to death in a hotel room. Nothing was taken despite Mr. Johnson having credit cards and a large sum of cash on him."

This time JJ waited just in case someone had a question but she was given the right of way to go on. Again, the images on the screen changed. The team felt sick again.

"Another month passes. On September 20, twelve-year-old Dexter White, was on a paper route in the early morning. He was strangled and his body was dumped in a wooded area close to his house. No real effort was made to hide the body."

None of them wanted to linger on that scene longer than they had to. So JJ was granted to move right along once again. "Then the time between murders is cut down significantly. October 6, a convicted sex offender named Jerry Hill was discovered in his own home, having suffered blunt head force trauma."

Finally, the burning question that JJ anticipated came from Morgan, "I'm sorry, JJ... but... it's lookin' to me like the victimology is all over the place. Each M.O. is different and the geography, aside from taking place in D.C. is scattered. What do you have to go on that these are connected?"

JJ answered with the next set of victims that appeared on the wall, "Roughly two hours ago, there was a complaint called in due to music blaring over the Cardozo High School's football field speakers. When police arrived to investigate, they discovered two bodies tied to the football goal post. The victims have been identified as students, Brent Lewis and Candice Berkley. They were stabbed multiple times in the chest, face and neck. Evidence also showed that Berkley had been sexually assaulted."

"Okay... another stabbing. Two victims. But... this ties to the other murders... how?"

Once again, JJ answered with an action. The flick of her wrist qued a classical melody to play from the computer in the conference room. She waited a few moments for the evidence to sink in before she went on to explain, "This song was the disturbance called in. It was blaring over the sound system of the football stadium. It was also playing from Carly Davis's car radio, a stereo in the hotel room where Peter Johnson was found, on Dexter White's iPod and from Jerry Hill's personal laptop. Every single murder has had this song playing when the cops arrived. It's a classical composition called-"

"Mozart's String Quartet No. 17 in B-flat major K. 458," a familiar voice chimed over the music from the doorway. As Reid greeted his teammates with his usual awkward smile and took his seat, he continued, "Though i-it's also commonly known as 'The Hunt' even though Mozart himself never actually called it that. I-it was actually the fourth of the six string quartets dedicated to a composer named, Joseph Hadyn. If I'm not mistaken the piece was completed in... 1748."

The dark circles under Reid's eyes were larger and more noticeable than the team remembered. He looked absolutely worn out but he hid it well. His eyes flew through the words of the case files in an effort to catch up. "Sorry I'm late, guys." He added without looking up from the documents. And before the team knew it, Dr. Spencer Reid was caught up. "So clearly if this is the same un-sub, that means he's probably been trying to figure out what he likes right? Testing the waters? Trying to figure out what method of murder suits him best?"

Hotch rubbed his forehead and added in, "It could be. Either way if we are looking at the same un-sub for these crimes, no one in D.C. is safe. Not with how these monthly gaps have been severed down to a matter of days. Either he's growing bolder or more impatient."

"So where do we start?"

With a deep sigh, Hotch laid down his copy of the case file and gazed at each member of his team as he referred to them, "Morgan, you and Rossi go and take a look at the latest crime scene at the high school and see if you can find anything. If you can, see if you can talk to the students who were close to the victims. Prentiss and JJ, the two of you talk to the families of Dexter White and Carly Davis. Reid and I will look into whatever we can find on Jerry Hill and Peter Johnson. "

~Author's Notes ~

O.M.F.G.

First of all - I know it's not necessary but guys - I TRULY want to apologize for how long this took. Honestly. That was just ridiculous. Just know that I am NOT slacking. It's not that I do not have as much interest in this storyline. Quite the contrary, actually. This story is going to be a hell of a lot more like an actual episode. I want my second attempt at fan fiction to have more depth. There will be more evidence, more profiling and more... of everything that makes Criminal Minds amazing.

However - that being said - in order for me to present this story perfectly, I have to do A LOT of research and not just about criminal psychology and REALLY think ahead before posting. So yeah... if it takes me a little while to update - just know that it's not because I'm slacking off!

P.S. I finally learned how to officially name the chapters! So as you will notice, each chapter of this story will have a title. They are all going to refer to music. Not lyrics. But terms used for classical ensembles. For those of you who don't know, the word 'Opera' actually means work. So no - I wasn't referring to any fat lady when I decided on that title. It's referring to the BAU at work.