Author's note: 4x15 Zoe's Reprise

"This is Henry wearing the booties my Mom knitted," JJ said, pointing to yet another picture of the practically perfect baby.

"I can't get over his cuteness!" Garcia gushed.

"Oh, and this is him wearing the customized leather jacket Auntie Penelope got him." I peeked over Derek's shoulder, trying to get a better view.

"When he grows up he's going to be a rebel," Garcia assured. Derek and I laughed, while JJ gave her a nervous look.

"He's going to be the coolest kid ever with a family like ours," I said.

Garcia's phone rang, "Is this David Rossi, the bestselling author David Rossi?" she asked mock-excitedly.

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to be calling when you're on annual leave," Derek reprimanded.

"I think my AL just ended," Rossi sighed.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Garcia, Cleveland Police is sending you some files; get JJ to distribute them to the team right away," he instructed.

"What are we looking at?" JJ asked.

"I don't know yet, just see if the team can find a connection with these crimes. I'll call you back in a few hours."

"I hope he's alright," I sighed. Garcia, JJ and Derek collected their things and headed for the BAU room. I followed them while they alerted the team.

A few hours later the team was seated around the circular table in the conference room going through files. Garcia remotely accessed a girl named Zoe Hawkes computer for Rossi. "Check out her homepage," said Garcia, opening the girls internet browser.

"The first thing she see's when she opens her computer is a crime column," said Emily, looking over Garcia's shoulder.

"Can you see what she worked on last?" Rossi asked.

"Walla!" Garcia proclaimed, opening a series of charts and graphs.

"It looks like she was compiling imperical data about homicide trends in Cleveland," Spencer noted, leaning over to see the screen. He'd since forgiven me for my masterful pranking, after it was revealed to him that the 'Out of Order' shower stall actually worked. He'd smelled like peppermint for a week, and had decided that I could potentially survive MIT prank wars.

"Do you think she knew the killer?" Prentiss asked Rossi, who was currently in the recently murdered girl's room.

"I don't see any notes indicating potential suspects."

"Well Dave, she's a criminology student, she's been taught to analyze statistics and apply theory, not investigate killers," Hotch reminded him, "Let's talk about what we know."

JJ stood up and picked up her remote, looking down at the case files, "Alright victim one, Travis Bartlet, was last seen at a gay bar, he was shot at night in a park," she said, calling an image of the first victim to the screen. "Victim two, Lily Knicks, a thirty-four year old prostitute, her throat was slashed," this time the image was of the female victim, post-mortem. I shuddered and looked away from the screen.

Hotch glanced up at me, "Sara," he said sternly.

"Gone," I replied, speeding out of the room.

I practically ran to Spencer's desk, my face pale. I wished I'd left before they started the morbid slide show of death. A few minutes later the team flooded out of the room and went to their desks. "Going to Cleveland?" I asked Spencer.

"We think it's a serial killer imitating other serial killers," he said by way of an answer.

I nodded, "That's new. Tell Rossi I said hi," I said as Spencer picked up his go-bag.

"Bye, don't do anything illegal," he warned me, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

"Same goes for you," I laughed as he headed out the doors with the rest of the team.

I went to find Garcia, wondering about the 'don't do anything illegal' comment. I assumed it was one of the things he'd blurt out when he tried to be a 'parental figure.' I sat down in her office and smoothed out my uniform skirt, I had gone to the BAU straight from school. "Hey Pixie, you ok?" Garcia asked me, turning around in her chair.

"Hmm? Yeah I'm fine," I assured her.

"You're pale," she said gently.

"The second victim, Lily Knicks…"

"I know you don't like seeing that stuff sweetie," she said consolingly, taking a seat next to me on my bench.

"No, well yes, but for a second she looked like my Mom. She was lying there; she looked like my Mom did when I turned her over, when I found her."

I'd never told anyone but Spencer that. Not my friends, school counselors, or the rest of the team.

"How long has it been?" she asked quietly, stroking my hair.

"Ten months tomorrow. She died March 21st, around noon the coroner said."

"Does Reid know?"

I shrugged, "Probably, it might have slipped his mind though, with the case and everything. It doesn't matter," I told her standing up, I picked up my backpack, "See you Penelope."

I went home and lay on the couch for the rest of the evening. I felt sick and I wished Spencer would come home. I stayed home the following day, skipping school. I called the guidance office and told them why I wasn't coming, which the counselor said was fine, and told me many times how sorry she was for my loss. Her faked sympathy was not at all helpful and I wanted Spencer to come back now more than ever.

At school the next day my friends inquired about why I was out, I lied and told them I had a twenty-four hour bug or something. I must have seemed pretty depressed, because they were all going out of their way to be nice to me. I appreciated it, but refused to tell them what was wrong. I did my homework on the bus and got off at the FBI.

I crept into Penelope's office and she didn't hear me, she was on the phone with Rossi. "The boy's in the lab found trace amounts of saliva on Zoe's forehead, enough for a DNA sample. We got a match on Eric Ryan Olson, Cleveland native, did two and a half years for attempted sexual assault and was paroled six months ago." I couldn't hear Rossi's response as Penelope had her earpiece in, she pulled up another file, "That's because he was. While he was in the slammer he took independent correspondence classes in forensic science and criminology from an out-of-state school." Garcia informed him before hanging up.

"Is that the guy?" I asked, examining the picture of Eric Olson.

"Let's hope so Pixie," she told me, "I'm getting a search warrant and the rest of the team."

The next day Eric Ryan Olson was in custody, having eventually confessed to the murder of at least eight people. Spencer stopped at Garcia's apartment to pick me up and we stopped in one of the stores on Main Street. "Why'd we stop?" I asked.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go visit your Mom."

I bit my lip and glanced out the car window at the shop we were parked in front of. "Then why are we here?"

"I thought you might want to bring her something, they have flowers bouquets here."

Spencer got out and opened the car door for me and we walked into the store. There were a few bundles of flowers and I looked at each one. Spencer had a good time informing me of the symbolic meanings associated with each type of flower. I chose a few lilies, which were way to expensive considering they'd been grown by a florist and not imported. "Lilies are used in burials as a symbol referring to resurrection or life. They're also associated with stars and the Sun and there are over 110 species in the lily family Liliaceae," he told me approvingly.

We drove for over a half hour until we reached the cemetery. Spencer held my hand as loosely as possible and we found my Mom's grave. I held onto the bouquet tightly and stopped in front of a small grave marker. 'Laura Ryan 1971-2010.' I laid the lilies in front of the marker, and held tightly to Spencer's hand. I stood there looking at the engraving for a while, not sure what to feel.

Spencer was looking at the grave as well, and after a few moments he cleared his throat, "Um, it's nice to meet you Miss Ryan," he said aloud.

I looked at him questioningly, "What are you doing?"

"Talking to your mother," he said, and turned back to the grave marker. "My… my name is Doctor Spencer Reid; I'm a supervisory special agent from the behavioral analysis unit."

"Why are you telling her that Spencer?" I asked curiously.

He smiled down at me, "So she knows you're well looked after."

I smiled up at him and hugged him around the middle, "Love you Spence," I whispered.

"Love you too."