Maeve ran a brush through her hair and tugged on the collar of her shirt. She looked into the eyes of her reflection and frowned. She should have something colorful to wear for Spencer. After all, he was in the hospital and he should have brightness to make him smile. She sighed, put her brush back in the drawer and went to the living room.

A knock at her door sent her heart racing. Who could possibly be there? She'd made it clear to her friends and family that all of her attention had to be on Spencer.

"Who is it?" She shouted through the door.

"It's Brian."

Her hand stopped inches from the door knob. Brian? Why? Now she wished she hadn't shouted. She couldn't pretend that she wasn't there.

"Hey," he said as she reluctantly opened the door. "I heard about Spencer. I wanted to see how you are."

"I'm fine. I was on my way to see him and…"

"I'm sorry," he said but there was something in his eyes that made her step away from him.

"Look, I really have to go, Brian. He needs me."

"Yes, but I wanted to let you know I'm there for you if you need me."

He entered the space she'd left by backing away. He shut the door and his eyes shifted again. "I really have to go." She said shakily.

She backed away from him and he smiled. "I used to wonder how it was that you preferred Spencer over me."

"Brian, we've been through this. We went out for a couple months. It didn't work out. You know why?"

He studied her as though he couldn't quite understand her spoken language. "You never trusted me."

"Brian, I –"

"You've always thought you were too good for me, Maeve."

She held out her hands to him as if the ward off a blow. "That's not true, Brian. You –"

"Shut up, you little bitch. It's his fault," he spit out. "It's always his fault, first Elizabeth and now you."

The hate in his eyes sent the blood screaming away from her heart and to the tips of her fingers and toes. She looked left but he was too fast. He lunged at her and grabbed her into his arms like a snake with its prey.

"He turned Elizabeth against me and then he whispered in your ear. Why did you listen to him you?"

"He didn't say anything to me, Brian. " She tried to wrench away from him, but his grasp on her throat was too strong.

The peppermint on his breath made her wretch, but he wouldn't let her go. His mouth moved against her left ear as he spoke. "I'm going to teach you and him what happens to people that betray me.

He shoved her and she flew back and into the glass coffee table. The crash of the glass around her and the crack against the back of her head echoed like she'd spoken aloud in a vast cathedral. Then there was pain as sharp as a knife and as red as the sunrise through wildfire smoke. Then there was only blackness as her head hit the throw rug under the table and the breath whooshed out of her lungs.

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The team decided to meet for breakfast that morning at a café recommended by Lt. Miller. She'd said it had been a favorite for years. They found a table next to one of the huge windows that let in autumn sunshine and the sight of people hurrying along sidewalk and in and out of the ever present casinos. The café was about three quarters full of people ranging from obvious tourists to locals on their way to work. A juke box played in one corner and servers in light blue uniforms wove in and out of customers and each other.

"Haven't had diner food in years," Rossi commented as they dug into their plates.

"There's a place called "Joe's" in DC that makes the best omelets on the east coast." Morgan advised.

"You're buying breakfast our next day off."

"Deal."

"What about the rest of us?" Emily wondered.

Rossi rolled his eyes. "I suppose you're all invited."

Emily raised her eyebrows in Hotch's direction. He allowed his mouth to curve into a smile. "I don't think his heart's in it," Emily observed.

"When was the last time you treated the team to lunch?" He shot back.

"Yeah, I think you're way overdue." Morgan said after swallowing a bite of his toast.

"Why are you ganging up on me?" Emily began.

"Guys," JJ said. "Let's eat, not draw blood."

They continued on in comfortable silence until Morgan's phone vibrated. "What now," Emily wanted to know.

"Hey baby-girl, what you got for me?"

"So much more than you can handle," she shot back happily.

"We'll see about that."

"Be careful what you wish for. I've been checking into the staff at UNLV and I found something very interesting."

"Don't keep me in suspense."

"One of the lab drones working with Dr. Maeve Donovan has a criminal record."

Morgan's eyebrows went up as the rest of the team listened to his end of the conversation. "Dazzle me," he said to Garcia. JJ rolled her eyes and Emily snorted laughter.

"I found a sealed juvenile file on one Harold Sharp."

"What does it say?"

"You assume I broke the seal," she said in a tone of mock insult.

"Penelope!"

"Alright, I broke the seal, but don't tell anyone."

"I promise."

She laughed at the impatience in Morgan's voice. "He was arrested for peeping in his neighbor's window with a telescope. He was seventeen and his target was fifteen."

"Don't tell me, it was his first offense so they let him off with a slap on the wrist and sealed the file."

"Yep, he got six months' probation and court ordered psychiatric care."

"What's he doing working in a genetics lab?"

"He graduated from Harvard with a degree in genetics. He was selected by Dr. Donovan for this project. Apparently, he knows his stuff."

"Let me guess, he's kept his nose clean, no arrests in the last eight years."

"Yeah, but don't these guys continue to escalate?"

"Usually, but there's always a first time for everything. You got an address for him."

"Of course, I'm sending it to your handhelds," she informed him.

Hotch only gave Morgan a look when he ended his call with Garcia. Morgan filled them in while they finished their breakfast.

"Do you think this guy's involved?" JJ asked.

"There's only one way to find out," Rossi put in. "Let's go have a chat with him, Aaron."

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Harold Sharp reminded Hotch of his high school lab partner. His greasy, blond hair stuck up from his head as though he'd been electrocuted. His round face was badly scarred from acne and he wore black framed glasses with coke bottle lenses. He wore faded khaki pants with a white lab coat flapping over a black tee shirt with the words "Einstein rules" in white letters on the front. His feet were covered by filthy running shoes that might have once been blue.

"I don't have time for the feds," was the first thing out of his mouth. "I'm in the middle of very important work that could change the world."

Rossi flicked a look at Hotch, whose glower did not waver as he took in the young man. "That's fantastic," he said, but we're investigating the murder of two women."

"You think I had something to do with it?"

"We're covering all the bases."

"But, you asked to speak with me specifically. Why aren't you questioning the rest of the drones?"

One of the drones, who'd had her head over a microscope looked up and scowled at them. "Do you mind?"

"Follow me," Sharp said and turned for a door to his left. "I don't want her to hear this."

She ignored him and went back to her work. He opened the door, led them down a hallway and through another door. It looked like a lounge area with a few round tables, some candy machines and one battered couch. He threw himself into one of the plastic chairs and folded his arms over his chest. "You didn't answer my question. Why am I singled out for this witch hunt?"

"Because you have a record."

The young man went so red in the face, Rossi thought his face might spontaneously combust. "I was a kid! How did you read it? I was assured it was sealed."

"As I said, this is a murder investigation."

"I know my rights," began the young man.

"Where were you on October 7 and September 12th?" Hotch broke in.

"I was here. I'm always here. If you don't believe me, ask anyone."

Hotch switched tactics as the young man continued to sit and stare at him with his arms crossed over his chest.

"How long have you known Dr. Maeve Donovan?"

Sharp's watery green eyes looked at the scuffed tile floor under his shoes. "She's the head of this project."

"How long."

Sharp flinched at the command in Hotch's voice. "The project began a year ago. I was chosen over six other candidates for this position."

He raised his eyes to Hotch and there was pride in them that made Rossi want to roll his eyes. "I was the best candidate for the job."

"What do you know about Dr. Donovan's finance, Dr. Spencer Reid?" Rossi asked abruptly.

Sharp's eyes went cold and he began to stare at his fingers instead of at Hotch. "I don't know anything about him. Dr. Donovan mentions him occasionally, but that's all."

"I believe you know more than you're telling us, Mr. Sharp."

"I don't know anything about Dr. Spencer Reid or those women. I'm always here at work. You can ask anyone."

"We will," Hotch assured him.

"Just because a guy makes a mistake doesn't mean he's a killer," Sharp put in.

"You like to watch girls undress, I don't see that changing just because you're an adult," Rossi said.

"I don't spy on people," but he wouldn't make eye contact.

"Do you know Amber Dunaway or Megan Walsh?"

Sharp met Hotch's eyes and his face was twisted in anger. "I didn't touch those girls."

"That's not an answer."

"I have to get back to work," Sharp said and he rose from his chair like a snake about to strike. I have important work to do."

"Before you go, we'd like to speak to Dr. Donovan."

"She's not here yet. Unlike most of us, she has a life outside the lab," he said and there were tears in his eyes.

He stomped out of the lounge like a two year old in the middle of a temper tantrum.

"Interesting young man," Rossi quipped.

"He didn't answer my question about watching Maeve."

"I noticed… I'd like to get a warrant for his place, just to be sure."

Hotch sighed. "I would too, but we don't have probable cause. You know as well as I do that Garcia opened that sealed file without a warrant. No judge will grant a search warrant based on what she found through less that legal means."

"Still, it might be worth it to have the locals watch him for a couple of days."

Hotch smiled, and it was like the grin of a predator about to attack its next prey. "I think that's an excellent idea."