A waiter carrying a tray of flutes stopped in front of Reid and JJ and they each took one.
"This is really good champagne." JJ remarked after taking a sip.
They both skimmed through the throng of people to try and locate their friends.
"I guess we are the first ones here." Reid observed.
"It looks like it." JJ took another drink.
"I still don't even know why I am doing this." He started to fidget with his tie again.
"Come on, Spence. You need to have fun."
He gulped down his drink, put the empty one on the tray as he grabbed another. Reid continued to check his watch. "Where are they?"
JJ pulled out her cell phone from her clutch. "Still no service. I am sure they will be here soon."
Morgan continued to tap his foot in the backseat of the cab, waiting impatiently. The fifteen minute cab ride he was expecting as already turned into forty-five. "You know, we will just have time to quickly change, we are already going to be late."
"I know." Garcia nodded. "Oh, Morgan, look at that." She pointed out of her window to a bride and groom walking down the street. "Isn't that so sweet? They just got married."
"You think Hotch and Prentiss did that after they drunkenly said I do?" He chuckled.
"Don't even joke like that. I am still upset that we didn't get to go."
"You are upset that you didn't get to witness something they don't even remember doing?"
"Exactly." She said while crossing her arms. "She then looked out her window at the Venetian hotel. "Why haven't you ever taken me to Italy?"
"Like I told you, just say the word, Doll Face."
"What's wrong?" Emily asked as Hotch continued to pull on the door.
"It won't open." He twisted the handle and pulled as hard as he could for the umpteenth time. He then kicked the door in frustration.
"That will teach the door who is boss." Emily joked.
Hotch held out his hands toward the handle, giving her permission to try for herself. She walked toward the handle and repeated the same steps he did. She twisted and pulled but it wouldn't move. She then kicked the door in frustration.
"I wish I'd thought of that." Hotch quipped. "Wait, I will just call…" He patted down his pockets "But my phone is on the nightstand."
Emily let out a sigh. "Mine is too."
Hotch took a seat on the toilet lid then covered his face with his hands. "Are we just supposed to sit in here until the maid finds us, or Dave, whichever comes first?"
Emily leaned back against the counter. She started to extend her right leg out of her dress' slit and rubbed her shoe against his leg. "Well, we might be in here a while. Perhaps there is something we could do to pass the time."
He looked through his fingers to see her leg stretched out in front of him. "What the hell." He got up and grabbed her into his arms.
Rossi stared at the man inside the hotel room as his face turned red. Half with anger, the other with embarrassment at the type of person his girlfriend is.
"I'll tell you what." Rossi started. "You are going to let…" He looked to her for her name.
"Jasmine." She spoke up.
"You are going to let Jasmine into the room to claim her personal property. She will then leave. She will no longer bother you. But you will not bother her either." He looked to Jasmine who nodded in agreement.
"And what if I don't let her come back inside?" The man stated in a threatening way.
"Then I will have to call hotel security and the police. I am sure they can help straighten this out." He stared the man down.
"There is no need for that." He took a few steps back. "Come on, Jasmine. Your bag is where you left it."
She walked into the room, grabbed her bag and came back out again. "Thank you, sweetie." She winked at Rossi, sneered back at her ex, then walked to the elevators.
Rossi waited until she was safely inside.
"Are we done?" The man asked, sharply.
"Yes. But if I hear you giving her anymore problems, I will be back." Rossi promised.
The man shrugged as if the threat didn't bother him.
"I hope you have a good night. Oh, and good luck in your next election, Senator Clancy." Rossi strolled down the hallway as the Senator's eyes popped open knowing this incident could hurt his career if it got out.
Rossi whistled as he got onto the elevator.
Morgan and Garcia's taxi finally pulled up to the side entrance to the Encore. Traffic getting into the place was backed up because of the party for Reid. They jumped out of the cab and ran into the hotel.
Garcia pounded on the elevator button. Finally it opened and Rossi stepped out. He looked at his watch. "What are you guys doing? You aren't even ready yet."
"Yes, we know." Morgan acknowledged. "Tell Reid we will be there soon." The elevator door closed.
Rossi started toward the gala.
A woman tapped Reid on the shoulder. "Excuse me, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?"
He turned around to see a woman in her thirties with short brown hair that flipped out just above her shoulders. She nervously pushed her red, plastic frame glasses up the bridge of her nose as she smiled at him.
"Yes, I am."
She extended her hand. "Hi, I am Dr. Deana Troy."
He smirked. "Like from Star Trek?"
She instantly blushed, hearing that for the millionth time. "Yes, but it's spelled differently."
They shook hands. "Wait, are you the Dr. Troy that wrote Media: Birth of Serial Killers?"
"You've read my dissertation?" She asked in awe and flattery.
"Yes." Reid became excited. "I've found it incredibly remarkable." He then turned to his side. "JJ, you should read it. It is about how the media exploiting people causes them to crave more attention and that has the potential to turn people into serial killers who already exhibited underlying tendencies."
JJ gave a polite smirk. "Sounds like a real page turner."