-August 31, 8:25 A.M.-

-Present-

The B.A.U. office was bustling as the staff came in, moved around, and shuffled paperwork; in other words, a typical morning at Quantico.

S.S.A.s Emily Prentiss and Dr. Spencer Reid, and technical analyst Penelope Garcia were spending time together at the young Dr. Reid's desk in the bullpen as they drank their morning coffee. The quirky, blonde technical analyst glanced up at the window of their unit chief's office and looked back to her companions. "Do you guys know what's going on with Hotch?" she asked. "You mean why he's been paying attention to local police reports and has been slightly on edge for about the past week?" clarified Reid. Both women stared at him. "Well, if you want to be specific, yeah," she answered. Prentiss continued to stare at him, "Do you ever get tired of being a genius, Reid?"

"Guys, focus," interrupted Garcia, "something's not right."

"What's not right?"

The three looked over to see their fellow teammate and friend S.S.A. Derek Morgan. "Hotch has been acting a little off lately," answered Reid. "You guys noticed too?" asked Morgan as he stirred his coffee, "I've been wondering myself."

In the office that was in the group's line of sight, their Unit Chief was as tense as if they were on a case that had gotten too close to the team. And it was starting to look like it. Hotch was staring at his desk calendar: exactly one week after he had found the mysterious invitation on his desk. Although it had said one week after the fact, he couldn't help looking through cases since then for any trace of… he wasn't even sure what he was looking for. But with something like this you would know when you found it.

"You can't let this get to you, Aaron." Rossi stood in the doorway with his hands casually in his pants pockets. When the man didn't answer, he made his way to the chairs that were in front of Hotch's desk and sat down. "Is it because no one knows how it got to your desk?" Hotch looked up, "No one delivered any mail to me that day, no one saw anyone around my office, no one knows how it could have gotten anywhere with just my name on the front."

"Which is why you're looking into it yourself?" added Rossi. The two men stopped talking and looked to the door at hearing a knock. Standing there was their communications director Jennifer Jareau, fondly called J.J. "We got a local case, I just told the others and they're waiting in the conference room," she told them. "We'll be there in a minute," said Rossi. As soon as she left he turned back to Hotch. "Chances are this isn't what the letter was talking about." The Unit Chief was silent for a moment before standing up from his desk chair. "Let's go."


"Stephanie Nichols was found early this morning in an alley with her throat slit, her abdomen cut open, and various other incisions on her torso," J.J. began explaining. Everyone started to look through their files on the specifics when a confused look came over all of their faces. "There's only one victim?" asked Reid, "Why are they calling us for help?" J.J. switched the picture on the monitor. "We're being called because of what police found. There was a white envelope with a red wax seal found on her torso held down by her hand, and inside they found a really specific message."

Everyone but Rossi and Hotch read what was in the letter found at the scene. The two recognized the seal right away and exchanged glances as the others read. One by one the team members turned to their Unit Chief. "This killer has contacted you before?" Morgan was the one to ask. Although he was expecting such, Hotch still hesitated a second before answering. "Yes, whoever it is has made contact with me."

"Why didn't you say anything about it?" asked Prentiss. Hotch answered her question but addressed everyone in the room. "It wouldn't have made much difference if all of you had this on your minds when it wasn't even confirmed there was truth behind it." Now everyone got a better understanding of why their Unit Chief had been acting a little off. "So where's the message from the killer?" asked Morgan. "In my office, I'll put it together with the other evidence," he stood up. "Right now we have a crime scene to see." As the others followed, Rossi stayed back a minute to read over the short letter that had been left at the scene. It had the exact same swooping cursive script as the one that had been left in Hotch's office the week before.

Agent Aaron Hotchner,

As promised, here is the first victim. The game is afoot and the players are set. I wish you and your team luck in trying to catch me and bring to light the truth of the cold case that haunts me.


-8:50 A.M.-

"Aunty Anne! Aunty Anne!"

A little, bright-eyed boy flew through the colorful garden of the estate with a gleeful smile, heading for the smiling three adults near the manor; his mother, his father, and his aunt.

He ran as fast as his short legs could carry him, but he wouldn't get any closer to his family. In fact, it was as if he were getting farther away. The boy struggled to run faster, but it did no good. And then he heard it, a roar. He stopped and looked around to find the garden engulfed in bright, red flames. Turning back to his family, he saw that the flames were licking at their feet.

"No!"

He tried to run again to try and save them, but he couldn't move at all anymore. The boy watched in horror as the fire started to travel up the bodies of his family. All he could do was watch their lives burn away.

And they were gone—swallowed by all that red.

As the young man jolted awake, he kicked the inside of his desk. He frowned as he registered the small amount of pain in his toes.

"Master, is everything alright?" the raven-haired butler walked into the office right then with a tray of morning tea. "I'm fine," he murmured through gritted teeth. Sebastian raised an eyebrow. The young man had been sleeping much more often the past week, and had been having fits of frustration and anger. Young or not, this was not natural for him.

As the butler poured the tea, he started to go over the day's schedule. "At 9:30 this morning you have a meeting with the company heads of the branches from Germany, France and England; at noon you have a luncheon with possible investors; and at 2:30 this afternoon you have a video conference with business associates in Latin America to discuss figures and propose new ideas." He looked up to see if his master had been paying attention. Not much to his surprise, the young man was resting his head in his hands. Only one thing could explain this behavior. "And also, I've looked into police reports from Washington D.C. and have found nothing even remotely pertaining to the letter."

The young man looked up, showing a scowl at hearing the news. An entire week had passed since the letter of invitation had appeared on his desk; an entire week of reminiscing on a life thought long forgotten. He picked up the teacup his butler placed in front of him. "How long until my first appointment, Sebastian?" he asked before raising the cup to his lips. "Thirty-eight minutes," the butler answered a second later. The young man sighed and put the cup down, "More of the same of course." Sebastian chuckled. "What is so funny?" The butler looked the young man in the eye with a faint smile. "If I recall, you wanted to return to this life having had missed the 'games' that one plays in this human world." His master didn't respond and merely frowned as he stood up.

"Well, there's no harm in arriving early," the young man walked around the desk and headed for the door. The butler followed. "May I ask something, Master?" asked Sebastian. The young man stopped at the door, he seemed to be contemplating it. "Go ahead," he finally said.

"Will the young master be making an appearance at the lunch today?" Sebastian was positive that his master wouldn't pass up an opportunity like this. The young man looked over his shoulder. "What was true then is true now. Adults tend to put their guard down around children, always underestimating their potential and abilities of comprehension." A smirk snaked across his face. "Taking advantage of such adult tendencies has always been a great help in business." As the young man opened the door and walked out, Sebastian couldn't help chuckling.


-12:18 P.M.-

In a small dining hall in a well-known upscale hotel, well dressed businessmen and woman mingled as they enjoyed a buffet style, international themed lunch. The reason for this gathering: meeting with the owner and CEO of an international business they were considering sinking their teeth into.

Amongst the crowd of adults stood out a lone figure, the slim figure of a young boy. The boy was standing at the buffet filling his plate with favorite foods and carefully avoiding the unknown dishes. He barely looked to be around twelve or so.

Two women curiously approached the boy, after a few minutes of watching, wondering why he was here. "Excuse me, sweetheart," the woman with glasses and an American accent said to get his attention. The boy turned and the women unknowingly mentally agreed that he was a beautiful child. The other woman with bright green eyes spoke. "Are you here by yourself?" Good English but she still had a bit of a French accent. He shook his head. "No, I'm here with my father. He's talking with some of the people here." The women were surprised, who would even think of bringing their child to an investors' luncheon?

"I better hurry," the boy continued, "my father said to meet him before he spoke at the podium." The attention of the women was caught, and they started to notice something familiar about the boy; an elegant English accent, dark hair with dark blue undertones that messily covered his right eye, and his visible eye a deep sapphire blue. "Your last name wouldn't happen to be Phantomhive, would it?" the bright green-eyed French woman asked. The boy's smiling face was the most adorable thing the women had ever seen.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm Ciel Phantomhive."