Hey everyone! I don't too much to say about this chapter, but I'll talk a little more at the bottom. Reviews are always nice!

Every man casts a shadow; not his body only, but his imperfectly mingled spirit. This is his grief. Let him turn which way he will, it falls opposite to the sun; short at noon, long at eve. Did you never see it?

-Henry David Thoreau

"Raf, is it okay that- well, that I wouldn't mind if someone died?" Spike asked suddenly, turning around to face his friend. They were both sitting together at the briefing table, and before Spike had spoken, neither one had talked for fifteen minutes. Snowflakes were gently drifting past the windows, and the SRU was uncharacteristically silent. It was as if the white blanket outside was somehow serving to muffle the sounds inside.

Raf tore his eyes from the peaceful scene to look at Spike. "I don't know, Spike." He said thoughtfully. "Do you want this person to die, or would you just not mind if it happened? Because that's an important distinction to make."

Spike didn't answer for a moment. "I think… I just wouldn't mind." His brows furrowed. "But I also think that if a situation forced me to pull the trigger, I wouldn't feel bad afterwards. Or at least, I wouldn't regret it." He glanced down at his hands. "Is that wrong? I almost feel like I'm a bad person for thinking it."

"No, Spike." Raf shook his head. "You're not a bad person. Anybody can see that." He paused as he contemplated what to say next. "Killing someone in the line of duty sometimes happens. It can be necessary. And while we always want to resolve a situation peacefully, that doesn't necessarily mean that you have to regret pulling the trigger. What matters is that it's a last resort. And most of all, that you don't enjoy it."

Spike nodded, deep in thought. "Yeah, I guess I can see that. It's just… it's just hard, you know? There are people out there…" He trailed off. Raf just looked at him understandingly.

"It's Cabe, isn't it?"

It had been three weeks since the garage bomb incident. Spike's behavior hadn't changed, but it was moments like these that betrayed how much he was affected. Raf understood- at least, as much as he was able.

Spike's answer to the question came slowly. "Yeah, Raf. It's Cabe. I was just wondering what would happen if we caught up to him. I don't think I want him to die, but I hate him so much. So much, Raf. It seems like he's always one step ahead of us, just dancing around." He had hunkered down in his seat, and Raf suddenly realized how well Spike had been pretending. He really wasn't fine, was he?

Spike squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Raf, you don't want to hear this. I'm okay, I'll just-"

"Spike." Raf said gently. "I do want to hear this. You need to say it, to put it out there. It's okay not to be fine. Trust me, I know." When Spike didn't respond immediately, he continued. "You're my friend, Spike, and I want you to know that the boss isn't the only one you can talk to. I'm here to listen, and to help if I can."

Spike didn't open his eyes, but Raf waited. If there was one thing he knew how to be, it was patient. So when the tech finally opened his mouth, he was ready.

"I have dreams. Every night." Spike still didn't look up, and his voice was low. "About him, about what might have happened, about what did happen. Every night when I go to sleep, I know what's coming. And I just want it to stop, and I think the only way for that to happen is for this- for this game to end. I want it to end, Raf. More than anything, I think. I can't just keep living in constant fear of what he's going to do next."

Raf nodded slowly. "I know, Spike. The rest of us feel the same way, but we understand that it's your burden to bear. Just know that any member of this team wouldn't hesitate for one second to take that burden away from you if we could. So no matter what happens out there, when we find him, or when he makes the next move, we'll be there with you. We're not going to let you face this alone." He reached over to pat Spike on the shoulder. "It's not enough, but it's the most we can give you."

Spike looked at the hand on his shoulder, and then back at Raf. "Thanks." He said quietly. "It means a lot to me."

"Don't worry about it. Now, I was just looking at Sugarlumps, and I have no idea what this part is for…"

The next day, Greg called a meeting to discuss the Cabe case. The team shuffled into the room, tense and on edge, but Greg just motioned for them all to sit down.

"It's okay," He was saying. "There's nothing wrong, I just want to update you on the progress we're making, maybe see if any of you have any ideas. At this point, we have a better grasp on his character than anyone else out there." And by 'we', of course, Greg meant Spike. No one was fooled.

Nevertheless, Spike didn't seem particularly bothered. He lounged back in his seat, and waited for the others to get settled. Raf would have said he was totally at ease, but the conversation from the day previous flashed through his mind. And once he looked for it, he could see the tension lines around his eyes, could see the slightest draw of his mouth, but it was almost completely unnoticeable. Raf was impressed.

But Greg could see it too, and made a note to check up on it later. Because now, everyone was sitting down and waiting not so patiently for him to begin. He cleared his throat.

"So, as of now, we don't have much concrete knowledge of where he is or what he's up to, and that's bad. But we're looking, crosschecking friends, colleagues, everything. We hope we'll find something soon."

He paused. "What we do have is a history. And it's… not pretty. This guy is a mess."

Ed spoke up, his eyes narrowed. "He would have to be, with what he's done. A school? That's beyond wrong."

"I know, Ed. It is. Do you guys remember what the army guy –Reiden- told us there? How he was expelled for locking some kids in a room with a smoke bomb?" Everyone nodded.

"That wasn't where it started. When he was eight, he watched his mother die in a robbery gone wrong." He ignored the shocked look Spike sent in his direction. He had noticed too. "When they had the perp in handcuffs outside the house, little Danny went after him with a knife. Severed the nerves in one of the guy's arms.

"Nothing happened to him, though, because everyone said it was the shock talking, and of course he would be upset over losing his mother in such a tragedy. So he was pushed off into a foster home, and that's when he started at Reiden's school. You know what happened there."

The team kept staring at him, their expressions fixed. After what Cabe had done, they had no desire to sympathize with him. Greg went on.

"Anyway, he got into another middle school, and didn't have any more problems there- at least, none that showed up on paper. In fact, he kept most of what he did out of the official records after that. It took some time to dig up anything of substance, but…"

"But what, boss? What did he do?" Spike almost looked like he didn't want to ask the question. But he needed to know.

"Well… supposedly, he had a sort of feud with another student. They hated each other. In their last year of high school, one of the teachers we talked to said they had a pretty intense fight. A few weeks after that, there was a gas explosion at the other kid's house- no survivors. The police suspected foul play, and even brought Cabe in for questioning, but they couldn't pin anything on him. Since he was a minor, it didn't even show up in his records."

"God." Said Sam. "He's insane."

Spike shook his head, and Greg deferred to him. "He's probably not, Sam. Psychopathic, yes. Insane? I'm not so sure. Look at everything he's done. Beyond that incident with the knife, it's all been… precise. Calculated. He's planning these things, not just jumping into them on a whim. He's in full control of his faculties."

He considered. "That's probably what sent him into demining, too. He wouldn't have wanted to be military- it's too confining for him, too regimented. But he still wanted to learn about bombs, and how they work, and how they kill people, and there's nothing better for that than mines." He looked at Greg. "You said he took a load of shrapnel to the gut?" He asked. The older man nodded, and Spike went on.

"That was probably the first time he didn't have total control over the situation. He was sent home, and he sued. It's less conspicuous that blowing up anybody who was involved.

"But when that didn't work, he probably decided to screw inconspicuous. He wanted control again. That's why he set those mines at the school. For control."

Raf's eyes widened in understanding. "That's why he's so mad at you. I never really got it before, but it makes sense. He would have to be the best to maintain that feeling."

Greg was still looking at Spike. "Does any of this help you, Spike? Is the profile enough tell you anything else about the bombs?"

Spike thought about it. "I would say no, but the garage thing breaks his pattern. The signature bit, I understand. It's actually pretty common- it's how most serial killers are caught. They want recognition for their work. What I don't get is why he tried to build a uni-directional bomb.

"It's incredibly impressive that he was able to do it, true, but I think he sacrificed a little of his control for that 'wow' factor. He didn't know the bomb well enough to realize what RDX would do to it. And that confuses me. If it were me- hypothetically, of course- but if it were me, I would have stuck to something a little safer, within my comfort zone. I would want to know everything about it before I tried to blow up a building with it. Or a person, I guess, but that wasn't really the same bomb." He ignored the slightly green tinge of Jules' face.

"Anyway, something has changed. I don't know what it is." He started to say something else, but closed his mouth.

Greg caught it. "You may not know what it is, Spike, but I think you have a pretty good guess. What is it?"

"Don't worry; it's not important, it doesn't really affect the investi-"

"Spike. Tell us. Now." Greg's tone brooked no argument.

"Um… well, this may sound crazy, but I think it might be me. I think he's infatuated with me- not that way, Sam- and it's affecting his judgment. He's so determined to prove me wrong that he's making mistakes."

"What do you mean, 'prove you wrong'? You haven't done anything." Jules' voice was incredulous.

"To him, I have. Now this is just a theory," He said uncertainly, "But I think that's why he gave me the option of killing myself in the garage. He didn't have to, because the bomb would have killed me anyway- well, as far as he knew- but he gave me the choice. And that's important. He wanted me to die knowing that he had beaten me. Not the system, not the people in those buildings, but me. He didn't care as much about the buildings going down as he did killing me.

"So this isn't about racking up casualties any more. It's about winning, it's about proving that he's better than me. He'll still put the bombs where he knows I have to defuse them; I'm guessing big population centers, that sort of thing. But it isn't about that anymore. And I think that's why he's slipping up. He's sacrificing control over the big picture for control over me."

"The good news is, it's almost certain to get him caught eventually. In fact, he'll probably want to be as close as possible to the next one, to watch my defeat. The bad news is, there's definitely going to be a next one, unless we get a big break in the case before then. Which means I'll have to defuse another bomb. And I have absolutely no idea what to expect. And," He tacked on, "It'll probably be soon. So… yeah."

Silence greeted his announcement. No one seemed to know what to say, and Spike was reminded of the last time he had given a speech like this, after the mines. Now that wasn't a fun parallel to make.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ed spoke up. "This is terrible, Spike, but I've got to say, you're holding up much better than last time. It's impressive."

Spike shrugged. "I guess I've learned something in the last month. There's no use killing myself over it, because I'm just going to have to deal with it anyway. There's caution, and then there's crazy. I'd rather not cross that line again. Whatever may be, may be."

"That's a good philosophy, Spike." Ed was nodding. Greg, however, was just looking at him, his expression unreadable. Spike swallowed.

Ed was getting everybody up and herding them out. Shift was over in five minutes. When Spike tried to follow, though, Greg laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Just a minute, Spike." Spike paused for a second, apprehensive, but turned around to face his boss. He still couldn't decipher the look on his face.

"Ed was right, Spike. You are holding up much better than last time."

"Well, like I said, boss-"

"I heard you, but I don't know if I believe you. I don't know how to feel about this, Spike. About your reactions."

Spike eye's narrowed. "You think I should be worried, boss? Be freaking out? Well guess what, I-"

"Those aren't the words you used a few minutes ago."

Spike shut up. "What?"

Greg didn't budge. "Those aren't the words you used a few minutes ago, Spike. You didn't say there's no use 'freaking out.' That's not what you said. You said there's no use 'killing yourself over it.' And I'm worried."

Spike was silent for a moment, stunned. He couldn't believe Greg was using this against him now. Suddenly, he was on the offensive. "You think I'm using this as a suicide attempt, boss?" He sneered. "Well, it's good to know you think so highly of me; I guess my professionalism isn't quite up to snuff. Sure, I'll go out on a job and screw everybody else, because what do I care about the team? Forget my track record. Forget that I've never once let you down." Lou's face flashed through his mind, but he viciously shoved it aside." It doesn't matter much anyway, I suppose. Not to you."

Greg calmly waited for him to finish. "That's not what I said, Spike."

"Bullshit. That's what you meant."

"No, it's not." When Spike didn't immediately throw his words back into his face, he continued.

"I know you would never give your job anything but your best effort. I know you, Spike, and I would never accuse you of that."

"Oh yeah? Then what did you mean, boss? Because you've said it before, you know." He imitated Greg. "'I can't believe you, Spike. I'm not putting my life on the line every day in some misguided suicide attempt.' Is that not what you were saying then?" He mocked. "Because it seemed to me that you were making yourself pretty clear. I'd be careful, boss, because you're sending conflicting messages this way."

Greg tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but Spike shrugged it off. So once again, he waited until it seemed the younger man had calmed down some, and when he spoke, he spoke carefully and quietly.

"Spike, that's not fair, and you know it. I don't suspect you of using this as a suicide attempt. I don't. What I'm worried about is your reaction. You don't seem relaxed, Spike. You seem apathetic." When Spike opened his mouth, he held up a hand.

"Suicidal and apathetic are different things. I know that, and I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm not angry with you, Spike. I'm worried. I just want to make sure that you're okay. I promise that's all I want to do. I promise."

Spike didn't move. Greg sighed, but pushed on. "You're going to do your job, Spike. And you're going to do it better than anyone else can. I have complete confidence in you. But I want to make sure that you don't forget about yourself while you're doing it. You're so important, Spike, and you don't realize how true that is. So I want you to take it from me. You have to remember your own worth. That's what I want from you. Do you understand where I'm coming from?"

Still no answer from Spike, and Greg rubbed his eyes. He just didn't get why Spike couldn't wrap his mind around-

"Okay." Greg looked up, and Spike was staring at him, wide-eyed. "Okay, boss. I think I get where you're coming from, and I'll try. To understand, I mean. I'll try. And I'm-"

"Don't say you're sorry, Spike." Greg smiled. "It's okay, I shouldn't have come on so strong." He reached out again, and this time, Spike allowed the touch. "Come on, buddy. Let's go get all cleaned up, and then Dean's making dinner tonight. He said it's special for you. Before you go back to your place next week." He started guiding them toward the locker room. "He likes you a lot, you know. You should try…" Their voices drifted off as they made their way down the hall. It was still snowing outside.

Another quiet one, but it won't stay that way for long... This is kind of the start of the third and final arc of the story. I think I'm telling the truth when I say that it's going to be the most intense, but you'll have to see for yourself. Keep reviewing, and I'll be more motivated, which means chapters will probably be up faster... :) Thanks so much for all the feedback- love it!

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