Alex stepped out of her flat as she buttoned up her peacoat then shoved her hands in her pockets. She enjoyed the brisk morning air, it was cold yet enjoyable. She entered the charming corner café where she got her usual cup of coffee.

Alex seated herself at one of the small wooden tables. She noticed a man sitting in the corner holding up his newspaper like a barrier between himself and the café. She enjoyed this part of her daily routine, being able to sit quietly and be herself before diving into her character, her accent, and her mission.

Suddenly the newspaper next to her collapsed as the man folded it up and laid it across the table and reached for his cup of espresso. "More rain expected today," he announced as Alex realized he was speaking to her.

"So, I've heard," she replied.

"But then it's expected every day," he added.

Alex held in her smirk as she listened to Rossi put on his Italian accent. "How are you doing today?" She asked.

"More importantly, how are you doing?" he asked.

She knew they were close enough to give the appearance of having an innocent conversation while no one was remotely close enough to overhear what they were actually saying to one another. "I'm doing well," she nodded.

"And how is it being back on an official assignment with Spencer after all these years?"

"It feels as though no time has passed," she took a sip of coffee.

"Really? I would expect to see a little bit of rust."

"Let's not forget that this is what I do for a living," she snarked.

"But Spencer's been out of the game for a while."

"Oh, come on, Dave. Spencer and I have gone on hundreds of missions, there is nothing to concern yourself with."

"That is true, but your relationship is different this time. It's one thing worrying about what happens to your partner, it's another worrying about what happens to your spouse," he gently leaned back in his chair.

"But we aren't that kind of couple. Spencer knows I can handle myself. He doesn't need to swoop in and rescue me. If anything, I've always saved his ass," she sassed.

"It's also not as easy to put aside personal feelings, especially while both your lives hang in the balance."

"What do you mean?"

"I can tell things between you and Spencer aren't all beer and skittles," he poured himself another cup of espresso from the personal pot on his table.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, you don't go through three marriages and subsequently, three divorces without learning a thing or two," he raised an eyebrow before sipping his beverage.

"We're okay, Dave, honestly. We just have somethings to work out, that's all. And as far as this case goes, it's going to be fine. Spencer is a professional and from everything I can see, he's right back in the middle of it again. It won't be too long before we wrap this all up," she smirked.

"Just don't count your chickens before they hatch," he got up from the table. "And don't worry, kiddo, I know you two are going to be just fine. Stai attento."

Reid entered Clancy's bar just before four o'clock and seated himself at the counter. He wondered for a bit if anyone was going to show after he was halfway through his beer and they were five minutes late. He then turned just as he heard the bell ring as Colm entered the bar.

"Oh good, Mr. Nixer, you're here," Colm greeted.

"It's just Nixer," Reid corrected. "You have a job for me?"

"Yes, I do. There's a man who owes me money, I need you to get it for me," Colm announced.

"I just need to go pick up some money?" Reid questioned, as he wondered why he would be charged with a petty task.

"Yes, the issue is that he hasn't paid me the last two times I've sent someone. I need you to make sure that he understands that he owes me my money and I expect him to pay me," Colm stared at him with his steely eyes. They were almost dead, soulless, empty eyes.

"What's his name?" Reid asked.

"It's Murphy, here's his information," Colm handed over a small, folded piece of paper. "However, I doubt he'll be at home. The little weasel has been avoiding me."

"How would you like me to deliver the message if he isn't home?"

"His wife and children are… I'm sure you can find a way to get the point across," Colm gave a subtle smirk.

Reid looked sharply back at him. "I don't hurt women or children."

"Who said anything about hurting? I've heard you're a resourceful man, I am sure you can find a way to get the job done. I will expect payment no later than first thing tomorrow morning." Colm turned and left as swiftly as he entered.

Reid went back to the bar and gulped down the remainder of his brew. He needed as much liquid help as he could get for what he was about to do.

Reid headed down the road to the address on the piece of paper then traveled up the steep staircase where he banged on the front door. A young woman answered holding a nine-month old baby in her arms with two older ones playing on the floor.

"Yes?" She asked.

"Mrs. Murphy?" Reid asked with a deadpan stare.

"Yes," she replied.

Reid pushed his way in and looked around the room as he took off his gloves. "I'm looking for your husband."

She held her baby tighter to her body. "He's not here."

"He wouldn't be avoiding his responsibilities, would he?" Reid asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she sounded sincere.

"Colm sent me to get the money your husband owes him, and I need it now," Reid demanded.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have any money. Please leave," her voice started to crack.

Reid noticed the plates drying in the rack and picked up two of them, then smashed them against each other causing the baby to cry and scaring the kids. "I need you to give him a message for me. He has until tomorrow morning to pay or you are going to have a lot more to worry about."

Reid walked over to the kitchen table and flipped it over, then pulled the framed family portrait from the wall and smashed it on the floor. He then stormed toward her and pointed his finger in her face. "You tell your worthless husband that if he shirks on his word that he is not worth living." He put his gloves back on as he went down the stairs and could hear the crying coming from the home.

He took a long walk back to his flat, even longer than what it should have taken him. He went up and down roads and back again. He finally made it to his door but didn't feel any better about what he had done. The rage grew inside of him and he couldn't stand it anymore. He ran toward his wall and smashed his hand right through it.

JJ headed down the dark street bundled up in her winter coat as her long, blonde curls bounced along her back. She found her destination and walked up the damp steps where she lightly rapped on the door.

The lady hesitantly answered the door. "Yes?"

"Mrs. Murphy?" JJ asked.

"Who wants to know?" Mrs. Murphy didn't want another incident like she experienced earlier.

"I have something for you... it's from a friend," JJ held out a thick envelope towards the door.

"What is this?" Mrs. Murphy asked as she held the envelope overflowing with money in her hands. "I can't accept this."

"There's nothing to accept. It's yours. I am sure you can use it to pay off any debts, or anything else you might need," JJ replied then rushed down the steps before she could protest any further.