A/N: Yosh! Ya know, it was a insane struggle for me to get this chapter going, but when it did it sort of wrote itself. (grins, then shudders) Kind of creepy. We'll see just what kind of a text such a flow produces… (shudders again)

BUT, first… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all those amazing reviews! (glomps) It's your love that rocks this story forward, ya know? So thank you!

Awkay… (inhales deeply) There's no dodging it any further – it's go-time! I really hope ya'll find this worth joining in.

The Big Game

As the team had feared the Reaper became famous. In a matter of twenty-four hours his name was on the lips of pretty much every inhabitant of Las Vegas. That fame only intensified with his latest attack.

Bus number 32 never made it to its final stop during one of its nighttime rounds. As officer Devlon Ackles went to investigate he came across a sight that'd be burned into his nightmares for the rest of his life.

The driver and every single one of the five passengers had been butchered brutally. There was blood pretty much everywhere in the bus. All the victims had a number carved to the flesh of their exposed chests.

A couple of hours later Derek's eyes were dark and hard as he stared at the pictures taken at the crime scene, working his hardest to focus on the numbers instead of the blood.

The Reaper was toying with them, and it was really, really getting on his nerves. For now those numbers were their only lead, along with the new witness Penelope had discovered the day before.

George Foyet's girlfriend had been killed by the Reaper, and the man himself had come an inch from dying. Now the man had disappeared like a ghost, leaving them with nothing to grasp on.

How the hell were they supposed to catch this guy?

All of a sudden his full attention was, however, led elsewhere as he heard somewhat hesitant approaching steps. He couldn't understand the response his body gave when he discovered Spencer stood a slight distance away. There was a nervous look on the brunet's face.

Without really knowing why Derek smiled. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

Spencer bit his lip, glancing towards William's office. "William told me to come here as soon as possible." Those eyes found his, and Derek had no idea what to do with himself. "It's about the Reaper, right? He's already killed one witness."

Derek nodded slowly, not knowing how the younger man was going to react to the news. "We all want to make sure you're safe. For now it's not a very good idea for you to go anywhere alone." The last thing he wanted was to see Spencer's name and picture on the board.

Spencer frowned, clearly not happy with the news, then looked around. "Where's everyone? I thought your whole team's here."

"Rossi and Prentiss are checking out the crime scene, JJ's busy with the reporters and Hotch is talking to yo… William." He fidgeted, feeling somewhat uncomfortable in his own skin. "It's just you and me."

It was then Spencer noticed the board behind him. At first the man's brown eyes filled with a storm of emotions when they spotted all the victims and blood, but then a frown of something close to curiosity appeared. "Those numbers… They're a message, right? From the Reaper?"

Derek nodded. Of course he knew that he shouldn't have been telling an outsider inside information, but he couldn't control his tongue around Spencer. "We believe so, yeah. But we haven't figured it out yet."

Spencer seemed to be in some sort of a trance. This time there was no hesitation or insecurity in the brunet's steps as they approached the board slowly. The man's eyes were full of concentration, and Derek could practically see the wheels turning in his head. It didn't take long before Spencer's lips began to move.

Derek was so mesmerized by the sight that it took a very long moment before he heard his cell phone. It was Penelope. "Hey, baby girl", he greeted.

"Well 'hi' to you, too. I already thought you'd disappeared on me all of a sudden. What's going on?"

Derek cleared his throat, attempting to do the same thing with his head. "I… Spencer just showed up, that's all." Not quite sure why that topic made him feel uncomfortable he attempted to lead the conversation elsewhere. "Did you figure out something?"

"I'm sorry, but George Foyet is like a ghost – can't really blame him after everything he's been through, though. He doesn't have a credit card or even an apartment. His parents were murdered when he was just a child. I'm thinking about trying a search with his mother's maiden name." The pause that followed was a clear warning signal of what was to come. "Derek… Is everything okay? I heard you haven't been yourself in Vegas."

"I'm fine, just a little stressed out. Just like the others." Derek frowned, getting a really bad feeling of where the conversation was headed. "What's with the third degree? I'm not the UnSub here."

Penelope sighed and held a small pause, most likely trying to find the right words. "I know that tone of voice. It never promises anything good." She went on before his attempted comeback could break through. "You know I think you're excellent at what you do – you wouldn't have this job if you weren't. But I also know that sometimes you have the tendency to… letting things get under your skin. You let people too close."

Derek folded his free arm to his chest, subconsciously shielding himself. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His best friend's voice sounded sadder and quieter than usual. "Derek… You still remember how things turned out with Ellie, don't you?"

Derek's eyes narrowed and he grit his teeth as hard as humanly possible. That was the closest thing to a hit below the belt Penelope had ever given him, and although he knew it to be irrational he felt a feral, violent need to defend himself.

He never got the chance to, though. Because just then Spencer's voice carried to where he stood. "Derek." The younger man's eyes were slightly wide, filled with a mixture of surprise and almost childlike excitement. At that very moment the brunet looked more relaxed than Derek had ever seen him so far.

A shudder crossed Derek's body. "I've gotta go. I'll call you back later", he told Penelope, then hung up despite her protests and focused on Spencer. "What is it?"

Spencer licked his lips, gesturing wildly with his hands. "These numbers… They're a code, and not even a very complicated one. It's only a matter of finding the correct order and the matching letter."

Derek felt a shudder and took a step closer to Spencer without even noticing it. "What does it say?" he inquired in a tight voice he often found himself using whenever a case was close to reaching a breaking point. It felt like something had been about to burst inside him.

Spencer's eyes met his, dangerous and incredibly innocent at the same time. "'No deal'."

Derek's lips opened without him having the slightest clue of what he was about to say, but no sound got the chance to make it out. Because just then they heard glass breaking and both spun around in alarm.

Not that far behind them stood William Reid, his face completely white and his eyes filled with sheer terror. The man had dropped the mug of coffee he'd been carrying.

Aaron, who'd been approaching them with the older Reid, gave the man a very loudly speaking look. "Is there something you haven't told us?"

William swallowed, appearing nauseous. "I… think we need to have a talk."

William was fidgeting on his seat when Aaron entered the man's office once more. And although he had a fairly good picture of what'd happened between the man and his son in the past he couldn't help feeling sympathy towards William.

After all he was a father as well. He couldn't even imagine how he would've felt in a similar situation.

"Spencer said that he has a concert tonight", Aaron announced, realizing from the way William jerked that the man hadn't even heard him enter. He held a tiny pause to give the man a chance to compose himself. "Morgan is going to watch over him, along with two officers in civil clothes."

William nodded, focusing on the room's window with a distant, foggy look in his eyes. The silence stretched for a while. "That's good. I… already had a busfull of people killed."

Aaron's eyes narrowed. He was not about to let the chief go down this road. "It wasn't you – don't ever think that. It was the Reaper. We have a strict policy against making deals with criminals. You did the right thing."

William gave a tiny, bitter laugh, finally looking at him. There was a haunted look in the man's eyes. "That would be a lot easier to believe without those damn pictures of the victims hanging all over the place and the crying family members calling me constantly, demanding me to catch that son of a bitch." The older man looked away again and grit his teeth hard. "And I'm not stupid. I know I put my son into the line of fire."

Aaron sighed, realizing that no words were going to ease the burden sitting on the other man's hunched shoulders. He took his time before responding. "We'll catch the Reaper as soon as we can. Until then we'll do everything we possibly can to make sure he doesn't get the chance to harm anyone else."

William nodded slowly, his features relaxing the slightest bit. "Good. Because…" The man breathed in deep. "Spencer's all I have. I'm not going to lose him."

The silence that filled the office was full of understanding.

Derek knew that he couldn't really ask Spencer to stop leading his normal life. He also realized that the brunet was most likely in the safest possible place while performing on a stage. But no amount of reasoning kept him from fidgeting as they were together in a tiny, closet like room right below a huge stage and he watched the younger man getting ready for a concert.

In the end Spencer noticed his looks and didn't seem to know what to make of such attention. "Could you please stop looking at me like that? You told me yourself that the profile is clear. He won't strike in a place like this – he's too careful."

He sighed, unable to understand the workings of his head. "I know", he admitted. "But I still think it'd be the wisest to not take any unnecessary risks."

The look Spencer darted his way through a mirror gave him a very disturbing feeling that the younger man understood something he didn't. "Hmh." The brunet then smoothened the nonexistent wrinkles on his shirt and headed towards the room's toilet. "I'll be back in a second."

As soon as the younger man had closed the door between them Derek's eyes traveled downwards, towards where Spencer's violin had been rested lovingly. It was made of reddish wood, which made it appear rare and expensive. And despite himself Derek couldn't help wondering exactly what kind of a sound such a magnificent instrument would be able to produce. Before he knew it he was already approaching.

Derek knew that he was pushing the limits of Spencer's privacy – and not for the first time, either – but he couldn't control himself.

His hand was soft, almost tender, as he ran it on the wood and admired the color. It was a warm, rich shade of red he knew to be rare, without any cracks whatsoever. He could tell the instrument had been treated with a great deal of affection.

Making sure that he was as careful as possible he lifted the violin, surprised by how light it was. After a long while of hesitation he gave the instrument a couple of soft caresses. The raw, sharp sound that came out made him wince.

How the hell was it possible to bring out something beautiful from that piece of wood?

He was just about to put the instrument down when he realized that it was too late. For he lifted his gaze upon sensing a presence and felt his mouth grow dry. Spencer was stood by the toilet's doorway, staring at him with eyes he'd never seen before. Was that… rage he saw?

Oh shit…! "I… I'm sorry", he tried although the words tasted flat. "I didn't…"

"I never gave you the permission to touch it", Spencer nearly hissed through tightly grit teeth. The man's balled fists trembled.

Derek swallowed, wondering how in the world he was going to get out of this one. "I really am sorry", he tried again. He took a deep breath, letting the rest slip out before he got the chance to see it coming. "My mom… She used to play, too. It brought back memories."

Little by little some of the storm faded from Spencer's eyes and those clenched fists eased slightly. "Just… Just put it down, okay? Before you break it."

Derek obeyed instantly, not wanting to risk anything more. As soon as he did Spencer approached, taking the violin with smooth, gentle motions. It took a long moment before the younger man spoke. "You can't force it", the brunet adviced, taking his turn with the instrument. It reacted instantly to its rightful owner, unleashing the most beautiful notes Derek had ever heard. "You need to treat it with love and respect. Otherwise it won't respect you, either."

The brief melody he'd just heard was still tingling in Derek's veins, making it hard to focus. "How long have you played?" he half whispered, as though afraid he might disturb someone.

Spencer's eyes were soft as he gave the instrument another, longer caress. The melody spun around the room, beautiful and untamed. "Since I was four. This violin is the best present I've ever had." Suddenly those brown eyes met his, trapping him to the spot and moment. "Your mom… Why did she stop playing?"

Derek gulped again, feeling cold and exposed. This was something he'd never spoken out loud before, even to his nearest and dearest. He was very, very uncomfortable with the thought of exposing himself like this, but somehow those eyes stripped him from all armors and restraints. He swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. "My dad… He died, when I was a child." He took a deep breath, embarrassed to discovered that it shuddered. "I've never heard her play since."

There was no pity in Spencer's eyes, only sincere understanding. "I'm sorry."
There was absolutely nothing Derek could say to that, so he simply nodded. It took what felt like ages before he found a trace of his voice. "Let's… Let's get you to the stage."

Spencer simply nodded, and they left the tiny room side by side.

How long was the traffic light going to remain red?

Emily groaned and tried desperately to find a more comfortable position on the passenger's seat of the car.

She and David had spent pretty much the entire day at the crime scene and morgue in a somewhat desperate search for any clues whatsoever. That after a couple of nights without pretty much any sleep. She was exhausted, hungry and felt dirtier than she had in ages. All she wanted was to get to the hotel for a shower, a proper meal and some time in a comfortable bed. Instead David was driving them back towards the station where the seemingly endless chase could continue.

Those bitter thoughts were cut when David finished his phone call with a expression that gave her a warning. "Well?" she demanded.

David's jaw tightened for a moment. "It was Aaron. Apparently the Reaper offered chief Reid a deal he rejected. That led to the bus massacre."

Emily emitted a small yelp of startle when David made a sharp U-turn. "What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed?" she snarled.

"I also got good news." David gave the rearview mirror a glance before choosing a new lane. "The maiden name of Foyet's birth mother was Matthews. Garcia was able to find an address of one George Matthews. Aaron told us to check it out. JJ's trying to distract the media from getting a clue about this."

Slowly getting used to David's far from healthy driving speed Emily arched an eyebrow. "Where's Derek?"

David was silent for a couple of meaningful moments, taking a sharp turn to the right. "Watching over Spencer Reid during a concert."

Emily frowned, cold shivers going through her for some reason.

She knew Derek was straigth. Hell, the man was infamous for the amount of ladies he'd brought home. That's why the concerns nagging in the back of her mind made no sense.

She glanced towards David to discover a extremely tight expression on the man's face. "You look like this is something we should be worried about."

David was quiet for a mighty while, obviously wondering if it was wise to voice what was spinning in his mind. "Trust someone who's been there, Prentiss." The man turned left, startling a woman who'd been thinking about crossing the road. "I know the signs. And I know it's not going to end prettily."

Heavy silence filled the vehicle for the rest of the drive.

Derek had never been to a concert of classical music before. He'd always thought he wouldn't have the patience to sit through one. Today, however, he came to discover that staying alert and entertained was the last thing he had to worry about, and not just because he had to keep an eye on all signs of threat towards Spencer. The young brunet – a genius, it seemed – was everything that existed in his world.

The music began slowly and quietly, reminding him of a tiger sneaking closer to its unsuspecting pray. Spencer's eyes were breathtakingly alive, full of hints of what would soon erupt. Derek could almost feel the electricity dancing on the brunet's skin, and the feel caught him as well, made him shiver. Then, almost without any warning whatsoever, the music intensified and exploded. Derek couldn't understand how anyone's hands could move like Spencer's did on the violin, the motions incredibly tender and screaming commands at the same time. The instrument obeyed without a hint of doubt, bending eagerly to its master's will. As the music began to grow more silent and serene once more the sound of violin sneaked through, so subtly that a less careful ear might've missed it altogether. Then, as subtly as it'd stepped forward, the violin quieted down once more, blended to the rest of the music with what sounded like a exhausted yet very pleased sigh. Like a lover that'd had all their needs fulfilled.

Derek gasped once, only then realizing that he'd been holding his breath, blissfully unaware of how tight his pants had become as certain parts of his body reacted with excitement to the young genius. And then he felt something entirely different.

Derek didn't know how it was possible that something disturbed him in such a situation, but a deep frown appeared to his face exactly two seconds before he turned his gaze to right.

There, stood in the shadows, was a man with shortcut hair the color of which he couldn't see, arms folded and a unreadable expression on his face. About a million flashes and colors could be seen in the stranger's eyes as they drank in the view of Spencer with apparent delight.

Obviously Derek wasn't the only one mesmerized by the young man's music.

Derek knew that he had the nasty habit of being possessive. But he'd never felt anything as dark as what crossed his being just then.

Perhaps sensing him the other man turned his gaze and their eyes clashed. Even with the demeaning smile there was something chilling in the stranger's eyes when measured him up. He let his own eyes narrow, accepting the challenge. On stage the music became faster, much more aggressive. Like a rattlesnake giving its final warning before the attack.

And Spencer let the music drown him, unaware of the drama in the shadows.

Derek revealed a row of teeth, sending the same message a lot of wild animals do when losing their temper. The stranger, on the other hand, gave a smirk that revealed everything necessary and looked pointedly towards the stage. Spencer looked back not much later, and Derek would've given a lot for a chance to read the brunet's mind.

After a couple of more heated beats the music came to a violent, abrupt stop. While the rest of the audience, including the stranger, exploded to a thunderous round of applauds Derek found it surprisingly hard to breathe. He stared in daze as the stage emptied, furiously trying to understand the surges crashing and roaring inside him.

So suddenly that he blinked Spencer had disappeared from his line of vision. Only a few moments later he came to discover that so had the stranger.

Once more Derek's eyes narrowed and he unleashed a growl that didn't sound entirely human.

Son of a bitch…!

He was quickly on the move – after all, he'd never been blamed on being hesitant. He wasn't entirely sure what instinct it was that led him downstairs. But as soon as he'd fought his way through the crowd to get there he heard quiet talking from a tiny break room.

"George, stop that." That voice was, without any doubt, Spencer's. The urgent tone made the hair in the back of Derek's neck rise."Anyone could walk in."

"So let them." The older man's tone was smooth and light, but there was a undertone Derek didn't like. He would've much rather not recognized the sounds that followed.

"Your job…"

"Fuck it." The 'George' was obviously wearing thin when it came to patience. The tone sounded close to a growl. The heated noises and gasps that followed made Derek approach. "After a performance like that you can't expect me not to reward you."

It took only a couple of beats for Derek to reach the room's door and yank it open. As soon as he did he received a somewhat startled yelp, and saw how Spencer took two startled steps away from the other man. There was a radiant blush on the brunet's cheeks. And finally, with clarity that stung for one reason or another, Derek understood.

This was no attack.

He couldn't understand why his blood boiled as he turned his gaze, finally able to see the man from the audience clearly. The man seemed significantly older than Spencer, and he was dressed to comfortable yet elegant clothes. The man ran a casual hand through his extremely short hair while his glass covered brown eyes met Derek's. There was a obvious challenge in that look.

A challenge Spencer clearly failed to notice. The youngest man's eyes widened. "What… What are you doing here?"

"I'm trying to make sure you're safe." He couldn't keep his eyes from narrowing a little as he looked at the stranger. "Who would you be?"

Spencer cleared his throat, clearly in a great deal of discomfort, and answered for his 'friend'. "This… This is my professor, he's helped me improve my violin skills. George Foyet."

Derek's eyebrow bounced up, and the burning from before intensified. "George Foyet?" His voice was close to a hiss. It took a while before he managed to finish. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan. My team's been looking for you."

He had found George Foyet.

And things just got hell a lot more complicated.

TBC, right?

A/N: Uh huh… So the puzzles are starting to collide, aren't they? This doesn't look too good…

Was that stuff any good? PLEASE, do leave a note to let me hear ya out! It'd seriously make my day. (gives her best pleading eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: As things heat up even further between Morgan and Reid the latter doesn't even notice that he's ended up trapped into two crossfires. When everything spins out of control who gets their fingers burned? If ya want it to, the story continues in 'Charm and Harm'.

Perhaps I'll c ya guys next time?

Take care!

Hatsuharu M: Let's hope things won't fall apart completely, no? (winces) Spencer really needs to swallow up his hesitations and let Derek close. Those two are just too cute together!

And don't worry. The time for answers comes soon enough… (smirks)

HUGE thank yous for the review!

nicolethecrazyone: Awww! So do you, ya know? (beams and hugs)

I really, REALLY hope the next one won't disappoint you, either.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!