1st November 2017

While he had barely slept, Spencer felt more alive than he had done in a very long time. His head rested on Sasha's flat stomach while his fingers drew lazy circles on her bare thighs. His finger tips grazed across a small scar that resembled a pock mark at the top of Sasha's thigh. He felt her stiffen slightly as he did so. Testing for her reaction, Spencer did it again. Slower this time, letting his finger tip map the contour of the dimple in her smooth flesh. Her hand darted out and grabbed his, pressing it flat against unmarked skin further down her thigh. At this angle though, Spencer could see the crease of her arm. What he was looking for was there. It was hard to see, small and faded, but it confirmed Spencer's suspicions of the pock mark. She noticed him looking, and began to pull her arm away to hide the marks. But Spencer stopped her, holding her hand tight. He lifted his head slightly and leaned to gently kiss the scars on her arm. He pulled himself up the bed and onto the pillows. His arm wiggled around Sasha's tense shoulders and pulled her into his chest.

"How long?" He whispered quietly.

"Ten years clean." Her voice was just as quiet. Spencer moved his own arm in front of them. His own small purple pin pricks just visible.

"Nine." Sasha reached out slowly and wrapped her hand around Spencer's scars.

"I'm sorry." She said softly.

"Why?" Spencer heart leapt as he felt Sasha return his embrace. "You aren't the mad man with a split personality that kidnapped me, beat me and drugged me are you?" He tried to keep his tone light-hearted.

"What was your poison?"

"Dilaudid."

"Oh" came the response. "Classy." Spencer snorted. "I was far more of a cliche."

"Oh?"

"Smack." Spencer held her closer. "It made me the good, loyal, little girl he wanted, not the mouthy bitch I can be, I guess."

"I wouldn't call you mouthy." Spencer muttered pressing a kiss against her forehead. "Opinionated, perhaps." He chuckled as Sasha's mood melted and she snorted in amusement before giving Spencer's chest a small shove.


6th November 2017

Spencer was in a good mood that first morning back in the office. It had been noticed by the rest off the team. They'd all shared concerned glances that had been missed by the elated genius. J.J.'s thoughts had been running wild all morning, and from the amount of times Emily had been 'for coffee', she guessed that her boss was also unnerved by such a change in their co worker and friend. Eventually her nerve's couldn't take it anymore and she took her chance when Emily walked passed her desk again to grab her arm and quietly steer her into Garcia's office down the corridor.

"No," Garcia spluttered at the intrusion. "No, you don't bring things to me, I bring them to you." She wagged a finger at the pair in her doorway.

"Not a case." J.J. said quickly. "Has anyone noticed anything about Spencer?"

"Yeah." Said Emily solemnly. "He's happy." Garcia looked between the two women in front of her in disbelief.

"And that's a problem?"

"It wouldn't be," J.J. said slowly. "If he'd been okay when we left the jet. Has anyone been in contact with him all weekend?" Emily shook her head.

"I texted with him a bit." Garcia admitted. "He said he was having a classic movie marathon at home."

"He wasn't at home." J.J. muttered stiffly, glancing back at the door. "I went to check on him twice and Will popped by too." All three women stood quietly looking between each other, worry evident on each of their faces.

"You don't think he would..." Emily made a gesture with her head. "do 'that' again do you?"


22nd November 2017

It was lunch time, and Spencer was clock watching. Not something he did very often. But today had a very good reason. Tonight, he was taking Sasha out. On a date. Not a 'quick I've got five minutes, you've got five minute, let's grab a coffee before one of us passes out from malnutrition' date but an actual 'getting dressed up and acting like adults' date. Whenever he considered what that would mean for them, he found his heart sped up and his palms became clammy. However that was all about to change when Garcia and Prentiss left the office and stood at the top of the stairs. Something that had become the new signal to get to the board room and quickly.

Once Spencer arrived in the boardroom, closely followed by Lewis, and joined Alvez and Simmons at the table, he took in the sight of three bodies on the screens. Two men and a woman, all grotesquely thin, laid out on cold metal slabs.

"No crime scene photos?" Simmons nodded to the wall of macabre images.

"Sadly, no." Garcia winced at the glimpse of the bodies she had just subjected herself to. "They're a little lacking in Greybull as far as being prepared for a murder or three."

"Any ID?"

"Again nope." Garcia sighed. "No one's even processed the bodies."

"All three were found this morning," Prentiss began. "In one of the local churches, laid out on top of pews when the custodian arrive this morning."

"They look like prisoners of war." J.J. remarked quietly.

"Wheels up in 20?" Prentiss nodded the teams departure. Spencer took the chance to dart, not missing J.J. and Emily's look across the room before he did, out of the office and into the lift.


"Hey!" Spencer shouted into the hall after a body as he made it down the last few steps, seeing as the elevator didn't go all the way to the basement. The person stopped and turned. It was Clive. "Is Sasha around?"

"No." Clive said slowly folding his arms across his chest. "She has work to do."

"I just need to talk to her for a second." Spencer could hear the begging in his voice.

"Can't help." Clive said simply. "She's not here." And he turned and walked away leaving Spencer to make the walk out to the tarmac alone. He quickly typed out his apology to Sasha as he went.


Everyone was already seated when Spencer arrived at the jet. He could feel their eyes on him, but he ignored it and made his way to the back, where he could see Rossi sitting. As he reached the seat opposite the older profiler, Spencer realised it was already occupied.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled and took the seat next to Rossi instead. Spencer began to rummage in his bag, ignoring the person in front of him, looking for his phone. He knew he'd only sent the message moments ago, but he hoped she manged to reply.

'I'm sure we'll see each other soon - X'

Spencer liked her optimism. But he didn't hold much hope between their schedules.

'Hopefully. X '

Spencer heard a small cough but ignored it, picking up his puzzle book instead. His phone buzzed.

'We'd possibly see each other sooner if you'd stop being ignorant, doofus - X'

Spencer was confused. He read the message over and over before finally looking up and around the plane. His eyes fell on the person who had taken the seat he'd planned on having. The person he'd disregarded. His heart stopped. He fought for his face to not break out in a smile and his arms to not reach out and take her hand the way he'd become accustomed to in private.

"What are you doing here?" He finally managed in a slow, careful voice.

"If you'd been here on time, Dr Reid," Prentiss sighed. "You'd have been introduced to our M.E. for this case. Miss Clarke, this is Dr Spencer Reid."

"We've met." Sasha replied. "Garcia's friend?" She added in a simple explanation that Spencer just nodded at and turned back to his puzzles.

'I assumed we're still on the DL as far as work goes - X'

Spencer sighed at the message. He didn't want to be, but it would make more sense. She had been right all those weeks ago that they weren't technically colleagues, so there wasn't much Emily could do if Spencer decided to get up and kiss Sasha in front of them all right now. However, it would make the case awkward.

'Good idea. X'


As they landed, Prentiss had barked out their orders. Spencer's heart sank a little when he was sent to the crime scene with Rossi and Alvez was told to escort Sasha to the morgue. While he didn't care much for spending time around the deceased, it would have been nice to have some time with Sasha were he didn't feel he was being watched. He'd made a couple of rookie mistakes on the plane that he was almost certain had been caught by the older agent sitting with them. Rossi and Spencer hadn't shared a single word on the drive.

As they pulled up, Spencer could see some commotion at the side of the small church. He nodded, pointing it out to Rossi. Rossi sighed and swung himself out of the large black vehicle and Spencer followed. A young looking police officer came out to stop them, holding out his hand.

"You can't be here." He said in a worn out voice, shaking his head. "Church is closed."

"SSA David Rossi and Dr Spencer Reid with the FBI." Rossi told the young man and flashed his ID.

"Took your time!" the officer sighed. "Officer Thomlinson, You guys might want to have a look at this." He lead them back to the small crowd of police and church members. In a rose bush lay a forth body. Another women, Reid suspected from the narrow shoulders and long hair. She was in the same uniform the others had been pictured it but her forearm was bare.

"Whats that?" Rossi muttered bending closer to look. "This one feels more and more like a concentration camp as we go along."

"I need to phone the M.E." Spencer quickly reached for his cell and mimicked punching in a number. Rossi raised his eye brow and pointed at the van already there to collect the body. "Miss Clarke has a similar tattoo." Rossi looked away.

"Alvez."

"Where's Miss Clarke?" there was a shuffle and a noise Spencer recognised as Sasha's tragus piercing hitting the cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Your tattoo," Spencer started. "What does it mean?"

"Loaded question," He heard her chuckle. "Which one?"

"Left forearm." Spencer rolled his eyes. Of course she would take her chance to get him thinking about her semi naked. "The numbers."

"Oh that one. Dependant personnel number. Why?"

"We've got a forth body with the same tattoo. Do any of those you have have it?"

"Literally just walked it and was scrubbing. Let me check." He could hear her moving around the room. "John Doe 1 is a yes... It's a yes for John Doe 2 as well. Let see if we have a hat trick... Yep that makes three with our lovely Jane."

"We'll follow the body back."

"I'll get the coffee on then."


24th November 2017

Sasha sat across from Spencer at the desk. Her fingers quickly flying over keys tapping out email after email. Thanks to Sasha's information and a few calls she made to old connections, They had learnt the names for the original three victims. But Spencer couldn't concentrate with Sasha this close to him. He mind span with a thousand questions he'd never thought to ask her before.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Sasha mutter without even looking up from the screen. "Why is the sky blue? Why am I out of tea? Why do people kill other people?"

"Why do you have your tattoos?"

"Oh." She stopped and twisted in her chair to look around the screen at Spencer. "I'm assuming you've already profiled a reason?"

"Sasha," Spencer started quietly. "I would never profile you."

"Most of your team have been doing nothing but." She smiled. "Apparently, 17 year old me thinking I was being ironic getting my number tattoo'd on me wasn't actually being that unique."

"The feather?" Spencer remembered the hours he'd spent tracing the lines of the dove feather that contoured Sasha's left breast.

"For my mother."

"Your ankle?"

"You already know what that means." Sasha smiled slightly. Spencer did. He'd translated the text easily. 'Ad Maiora' -'towards greater things'.

"What about the semi-colon?" Sasha stopped smiling and reached behind her ear absent minded.

"When an author uses a semi-colon, he's telling us he could have stopped there. Ended things and moved on. But he didn't. He chose to take what he'd done, move on from it but not finish it."

"Sasha," Spencer wanted to walk over there and hold her tight. He wanted to take back everything that had happened to her. He wanted to make it right. "I-"

"We've got a lead." J.J.'s head appeared around the door breaking the mood and the moment.