At five to seven, Reid arrived at Riley's apartment building. He was surprised to see Riley, sitting downstairs in the cold with a jacket on smoking a cigarette.

"Hey," she said with a smile as he approached.

"Six minutes," he said.

"I'm sorry?" she asked.

"Each cigarette takes six minutes off your life. That right there is six minutes less I get to spend with you."

"Ah, that's sweet," she said, taking another puff. "Trust me, though, if I didn't do this, I'd be indulging in worse addictions."

"Like?" Reid asked, sitting next to her.

"Like alcohol." She replied. "My parents were alcoholics. And when I was in college… for the first semester, I went to a couple of parties and I learned… I don't have great tolerance for alcohol. I started drinking… a lot." She flicked some ash into the fresh snow on the sidewalk. "And I also started smoking pot, stop looking at me." She hung her head a bit so as not to lock eyes with him. "It got to the point where I was drinking or getting high in the morning before my classes to kill the hangovers. Some over-achiever, huh?"

Reid didn't say a word. He waited for her to continue.

"Anyway, when my advisor said there was a chance I was going to fail some classes… actually all my classes, if I didn't shape up for my midterms, I would probably get thrown out. I was devastated. I had so few people in my life who believed in me, but even those few, I couldn't let them down. I had to quit, and it was so hard, but… I detoxed on my own, which was hard. Extremely hard, I thought I was going to die. Afterward, I started smoking to get my mind off what I really wanted to do." She took another puff and smiled. "This is thankfully legal. I know it's not a real excuse, it's a weakness, but it's all I have."

"That's why you didn't judge me when I told you I was addicted to Dilaudid?"

"It takes an addict to understand an addict, I think." She said, taking one last puff and flicking her butt out into the snow. "Anyway, I ordered food, it's waiting upstairs. So shall we head up?"

"Yes," he said, standing up, offering his hand to help her stand, which she accepted.

Once up the flights of stairs, which Reid was unsure how a smoker was able to climb those flights every single day, they made it into Riley's apartment. He watched as Riley took off her winter coat. He was surprised he hadn't noticed before, but she was wearing jeans. As she hung up her coat, he noticed the black and gold jersey she was wearing. A few sizes too big, which hide her curves a bit to his disliking. Still, she looked cute.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in pants before." He admiring the way the denim fitted her.

"Stop looking at my butt." She said, looking back with a smile.

"I was not looking at your butt." He said truthfully. "It's covered by your football jersey."

Riley suddenly burst out laughing, she turned around, trying to talk while she continued her laughter. "It's a hockey jersey."

"Oh," he said, self-conscious. "Well, I didn't know, I don't know sports."

"Well, why do you think the Penguin is holding a hockey stick?" She asked, pointing to the front of her shirt.

"I didn't get a good look at the front. All I can see is the number on the back. What's 87 got to do with hockey?"

"Never mind," she said, still giggling. They made it to the kitchen where cartoons of Chinese food were waiting. "I pretty much got a variety of everything," she said, slowly opening a drawer. Slowly, she pulled out a fork. "Don't judge me."

Smiling, Reid reached over (purposely a little too close to her) to grab one for himself. "Don't judge me."

She smiled, grabbing the food to bring into the living room. "So," she asked as they sat down. "What did you find out?"

They spent the majority of the meal discussing anything new on Fueller either had discovered that day. Reid was pleased with the findings Garcia had helped him with. For instance, discovering Fueller had an older sister who had been treated by her father the same way all of Fueller's victims had been. Her death took place just prior to when the killings began and that possibly could have been the trigger.

"Did it say how she died exactly?" Riley asked.

"The police suspected murder, but could never pin it on anyone. DNA and trace evidence couldn't be extracted back then. Who knows what they missed."

"True," she said. "Did Fueller get along with his sister?"

"That, unfortunately, I don't know."

"Because he didn't have a good relationship with his mother. He's never opened up about his sister; I haven't seen her in any of the files, either. Her death could have been his trigger."

"Or, and I'm just brainstorming… she could have been his first victim." Riley looked at him in amazement. "Did you say Fueller's father committed suicide?"

"Yeah, I always thought that was when he started."

"It probably is. His father kills himself… Fueller then blames his sister, and decides to torture her the same way his father did… but takes it to the next level." He took a sip of his drink and set it back on the coffee table. "That's thin, though."

"It would explain why treatment hasn't had much of effect on him. We never focused on the target."

They continued discussing while they finished eating and then pulled out the files. Reid watched as Riley sat with her back against the arm of the sofa and her denim legs folded in front of her like a desktop, white socked feet posed right beside him. "The only thing I don't have an answer for… the medication. Why would someone wan to change that?"

"Why does that matter so much?" Reid asked, watching longingly as Riley inattentively moistened her lips with her tongue, driving him crazy as usual.

"Because, Spencer, that was a big reason why I lost. I couldn't explain the medication, and I certainly couldn't tell them I knew nothing about the changes. Whoever did this is behind getting him out." She looked up at Reid, an idea striking her. "Do you think Fueller had a partner?"

"I didn't see anything like that come up. Not in any of the records, ever. Even in his petty crimes."

She threw the file on the coffee table and crossed her arms. "I'm so tired of looking at that. I just want to give up."

"Why is it so important you stop this guy?" Reid asked.

"Why is it important?" She repeated. "I'll tell you why it's important… okay, I don't know why. I just… I can't just let him go. If you know evil is happening and if you don't try and stop it, you're just letting it happen again.

"But, when a long train of abuses and usurpations pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty,

to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security." He quoted. As soon as he finished, he doubted she'd understand it, let alone recognize it.

Riley smiled. "Right, but um… I'm not starting a government; I just want a psychopath put away. I'm the only one who can stop him."

"You know that quote?"

Laughing lightly. "I've seen National Treasure at least 100 times."

"What's National Treasure?" he asked.

She couldn't help but let another laugh escape. "It's a movie… about America and a secret plot. I'll have to show it to you sometime."

Once again, they joined in fits of laughter. Riley lifted up her socked foot and pushed him playfully. He grabbed her foot, holding a strong grip on her.

"Hey, let go," she whined. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just wondering if you're ticklish." he said slyly.

"No, Spencer, do not tickle my feet! No!" She screamed.

But denial just pushed his curiosity further, playing with the bottom of her foot. She started laughing harder and screaming, trying to pull herself from his grasp. He had managed to pull her from leaning on the arm to lying flat on her back. Soon, her other foot joined in to help free the other, but the plan backfired as Reid grabbed that one to.

"Okay, I surrender, let me go!" She screamed through her giggles. "I'm serious, stop!"

Reid stopped, his hands still holding her feet and pulled her legs apart. Both still laughing, he crawled between her legs up to her face and hovered over her. His ethics completely out of control, he leaned down and kissed her.

It was perfect. Her laughter quieted as she accepted his kiss, wrapping her arms around him, holding him closer to her. She didn't protest as his tongue asked for passage into her mouth.

The kiss broke and another took its place. She was slowly falling into his control. Reid's lips pulled from hers and he nestled his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her perfume. His lips enveloped her soft skin and sucked her flesh. As he did, he reached down, grabbing her outer thigh in order to pull them closer. Riley emitted a moan from the feeling, running her fingers into his hair while biting her lip.

Riley's senses finally came to her, mumbling "No," removing her leg from him. "Spencer, no, we can't do this. Get off of me."

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning back on his knees to give her the room she needed.

"You know perfectly well what's wrong!" she said, sitting up on her elbows. "We can't do this! You know that! If I had known you were going to try-"

"Riley, I didn't know I was going to try. I didn't plan this, I swear. It's just when I'm around you… you know I'm in love with you. You're so amazing."

"Spencer, I'm not amazing. Stop saying that."

"You are. Everything you do makes me want to be near you and… when I look at you… I mean, just look at you! You're beautiful!" He leaned again, his lips brushing hers again. "I can't help it."

"Well, you have to," she said, pulling away.

He leaned back again, his frustration creeping to the surface. "Maybe if I were Aaron Hotchner you wouldn't be pushing me away."

She seemed troubled by that. "Hotch? What the hell does he have to do with anything?"

"Nothing… just… I can tell you two have a history. I don't know if you dated him or you are dating him or just interested in each other. I saw the way he smiled at you this morning. And you called him Aaron the day you introduced the case to him. No one does that, except his ex-wife and his brother."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this. It's not like that with me and Aaron. Not at all!"

"There you go again! Don't tell me there's nothing there. Why else don't you want to be with me?"

"I am not having this conversation with you!" Riley exclaimed, trying to wiggle away from him. "Spencer, you're supposed to be a genius; I would have thought you at some point in your illustrious career would have learned about the danger of jumping to conclusions!"

"Why don't you just tell me how you know him? I can handle you being in love with someone else, you don't have to lie to me like I'm a child."

"Well, right now you're acting like a child! You're being ridiculous." She managed to pull away from him and stand up. "I think you should go."

"I'm not going until I get an answer." He said, standing up. "You said I was becoming your best friend, if that's true, why won't you tell me the truth?"

"It's personal." She stated.

"Oh, and telling me about your drug and drinking problems? You're right; those are in personal ads all the time! Is that how you met Hotchner or was he originally one of your patients, too?"

Like a bolt of lightening, Reid felt a sting on his face as Riley slapped his cheek. She looked guilty and scared right after, but before… Reid had never seen such anger on anyone's face. They both stood in silence, Reid unbelieving the words that had come out of his mouth.

The guilt left and the anger returned. She even seemed triumphant. "I think you should go."

Reid knew this was his fault entirely, but he wouldn't accept defeat. "I'm sorry I came." He said, quickly he grabbed his coat and things, slamming the door behind him.

He walked down the hall slowly, waiting for her to rush out the door and stop him.

She didn't.