Morgan returned from the hospital's coffee shop and handed a cup to Garcia who was sitting in a corner with her laptop whirring on her lap. Beside her on the table was a little purple panda, the twin to the one she'd put on Reid's desk what now seemed like a million years ago. He walked over to the spot where Dorian sat and plunked himself down in the chair next to her. She declined the offered coffee but thanked him.

"Look. Dorian. Reid's gonna be all right." He let a few thoughts cross his mind and then said, "It didn't even look that bad. Really."

"I knew something was wrong. Really wrong. We were supposed to meet tonight, and he always calls or texts me if something comes up. Which, with you guys and your cases happens all the time!"

She handed Morgan her cellphone, the last communication between her and Reid was the smiley face she'd sent after texting him "Back safe!" the night before, and he'd responded with "Thank you for indulging me," each word typed out fully. Morgan smiled despite the gravity of the situation; even in his texts, apparently Reid rambled on.

At that moment, the surgeon entered the waiting room. They all stood up, faces painted with anxious worry. He looked them over and said, "I'm thinking you are Dory?" correctly choosing Loker out of the small crowd. She stepped forward, not needing to be told to follow him.

"He's not exactly out of the woods yet, but he did manage to squeak out 'Dory'. And he will recover, I assure you," he addressed them all, before adding, for Loker only, "Please come with me."

A giant wave of relief washed over Morgan and Garcia as they watched the door to the recovery area swing shut behind Loker and the surgeon. Morgan immediately called Hotchner to relay the good news. Garcia busied herself texting JJ with the same news.

"I hope they nail the sonuvabitch that did this to Pretty Boy." Morgan practically growled. Now that it was apparent Reid wasn't in danger of losing his life, Morgan's priority returned to wanting justice. Garcia nodded in agreement.

"Hotch. Sir Hotch will get him."

Morgan agreed.

"Baby Girl, did you know that he was seeing her?"

"Nope. I mean, not before today. I'm afraid our Boy Genius is onto us, Chocolate Thunder. Not sharing the kind of personal information that feeds our insatiable curiosity."

In the recovery room, Dorian perched next to Reid who had yet to regain full consciousness. He drifted in and out but sensed someone's presence and stirred a little. All taped up and with monitors and tubing everywhere, Dory gingerly picked up his free hand with one hand and stroked it gently with her other. She felt his reaction; he squeezed her hand ever so slightly.

"He's actually very lucky," the surgeon explained. "His Kevlar stopped the first shot." The vest lay on the chair beside the bed, and the surgeon picked it up and showed Dorian the shell lodged in front of it." He continued, "Second bullet managed to enter his body below the Kevlar, just above his waist. No major organs were damaged, but he did lose a lot of blood, and there were a lot of bleeders to patch up. And he has a lovely large bruise on the front of his chest from the first impact. He should be coming around soon, and it would be nice to have a friendly face to wake up to."

The doctor smiled at Loker and indicated the nurse would be in to check up on Reid shortly, He was going to go back to the waiting room to speak to Morgan and Garcia.

Morgan's phone beeped. He saw it was from Hotchner and answered it immediately, interrupting Garcia in mid sentence. He listened intently as Hotchner spoke, and then relayed the surgeon's words about Reid's condition. The call concluded, Morgan turned to Garcia to update her.

"Rossi and Hotch went to the store. The female unsub wasn't there. The storeowner said she called in her shift this morning and quit her job on the spot. The address she supplied to her employer was a fake, but we know her name now. Nancy Redding. And the owner also realised something else that didn't occur to her when we interviewed her previously. They don't collect personal information for their own records, but they do file that information on copies of their sales invoices that they forward to the manufacturer for the warranties on large purchases. Like car seats and high chairs."

As Morgan spoke, Garcia entered the name into her computer and searched.

"And we still have the vehicle description and the plate number, thanks to Loker."