Riley watched as the door to the conference room closed. She looked back at both Garcia and Emily. "You know if I knew I'd be meeting a former interest of my boyfriend's, who's a movie star no doubt, I would have tried to fix myself up a bit."

"Honey," Garcia muttered, taking a step forward. The computer results clutched in her arms. "You're not actually jealous of her, are you?"

"You've got no reason to be jealous of her." Emily continued, smiling. "She's the one who should be jealous of you."

"Really, why is that, Emily? Because I'm wearing secondhand jeans or because she makes my boyfriend act… like an idiot. And considering his intelligence, that says a lot."

Garcia snorted, trying to get her to see how ridiculous her worry was. "Come on, Riley… she's a celebrity. I mean, imagine if you got to have a therapy session with Jeremy Irons."

Riley did not see the humor in that. "Spencer wouldn't get upset about that. Because he's rational and logical… and Jeremy Irons and I never…"

"-made out in a pool?" Emily finished.

Shocked, "They made out in a pool?"

Amazing how much better sentences can sound in a person's head. Emily stood frozen a moment, "According to Morgan. I don't know. I… I wasn't even working here then."

It was a moment where a person needed a stiff drink, but as a borderline alcoholic, Riley knew that was not an option. "I need coffee." And with that, pushed past the girls into the break room, debating whether she should just go home.

…

Lila's eyes were darting over the bulletin board. She took in the words of the notes. None of these letters were her own, yet they sounded so similar. Reid read each one of hers silently before pinning joining them with his father's.

"Look, you three know that I'm not unaccustomed to being threatened." She explained, turning around and taking a seat at the round table. "Since Maggie, I've had three major stalkers, a group of college feminists who constantly snuck on the set to try and egg me, and an obsessed fan who was desperate to invite me to his prom."

"This one is different." Morgan explained. "Reid's parents got the same letters over a period of time."

"So…" she muttered. "Whoever sent me these… they're focus is actually… Spencer?"

Reid hesitated. Hotch took the opportunity to answer. "We think so."

"Why me?" she asked. "We haven't spoken in years. Why wouldn't he focus on someone closer to you? Like your girlfriend or something?"

"In theory." Reid explained. "However this may be a passive aggressive way to affect me; get to the people who have affected my life." It would make more sense if Ethan were connected to this. "It would explain why he started with my parents. The first people to make an impact on me."

Lila looked nervous, trying not to show it. "So… he's going to kill me?"

"No," Reid exclaimed, looking at her seriously. "I promise you, that is not going to happen. He's not going to get to you. You are in protective custody. We're going to put you in a hotel where you'll be under constant watch by the FBI. Nothing will happen to you."

Words can be powerful, and words spoken in the right tone could ease anyone's pain or anxiety. Lila gave a small smile, "Thank you."

"Let's talk about this gift this morning," Morgan looked over the photo taken of the eyeball, nestled in a few petals of the flowers she'd gotten. He had seen some disturbing photos in his time, and people had the nerve to call them art. If the public were to know what kind of sick people existed in this world, capable of doing this and worse, they wouldn't dare glorify it.

"The police took it, I contacted them after I called Spencer. They said… they need to figure out who the eyeball belongs to." Lila gave a shudder, her fingers rubbed her temple in an attempt to relieve the stress of the situation. "There's a sentence I had no intention of ever saying."

Reid sat down and took the police report. He read it over. "Well, it said the victim was killed when the eyeball was cut out. That's good news."

"How is that good news?" Elle spoke up.

"Well…" Morgan chimed in, "would you want to be alive when your eyeball was removed?"

Setting the report aside, Reid reached over and took the eyeball. Morgan may have compared it to a piece of art, but Reid felt a chill go down his spine. It was like the soul of who it belonged to was still connected to it. And it looked through to Reid from the photograph. He had seen that eye before. That eye had looked at him when it was alive, that eye… he couldn't place its owner… but he remembered a look of triumph it flashed him… but where… and who?

"Reid," Elle said after a long silence. "What is it?"

He couldn't voice his fear. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions. Reid had hoped he was just going crazy, but since the window of schizophrenia had closed on him, that was unlikely. He set the photo down, flipping it over so the eye was covered in darkness. He allowed his breathing to calm and looked around.

Morgan, Hotch and Elle watched him with caution. Reid was a genius and with such intelligence was a mental instability. They knew that – they knew him, each in their own respective way – and were prepared to listen and help him with whatever crossed his mind. But Lila didn't, and the fear was evident in her bright, living eyes.

"I want to examine Lila's letters a little closer." He finally muttered, standing up. "Maybe they have some of the same clues that my father's have… it shouldn't take too long."

"Take your time, Reid," Morgan said, standing up. "I'll get everyone some coffee."

"I'm going to make a call to the NYPD." Hotch informed, following Morgan to the door. "Make sure they're doing everything in their power. Elle… you don't mind staying with him. Try to find something?"

"No," she muttered, genuine.

All Reid could do was nod. The men left them alone. Elle took the police report to study it herself. Reid stood before the bulletin board, focused on the words of the letters. Lila watched his eyes dart around the page at unspeakable speed. Those eyes, the only indication of the work his amazing brain was doing.

…

Morgan was starving. His lunch with Emily felt like half a day ago. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the break room besides coffee and water. It would have to do.

Riley stood alone next to the pot. She looked sullen. He'd prefer that over Emily right now, who was nowhere to be found. Maybe she went home. The thought gave Morgan a feeling of relief.

"Hey," Morgan said, grabbing the carafe. "Refill?"

"Thanks," Riley said, offering her half empty mug. Morgan poured out the rich black liquid. She took it, not bothering to mix any further cream or sugar. "How's Lila?"

"Do you have to say her name like that?" Morgan asked.

"I said it normal." She muttered, knowing full well it was a lie.

Unlike the women, Morgan gave a snort. He found this amusing, and that only further annoyed Riley. "Don't you think you're overacting just a little? I mean, it's not like they dated."

"He never mentioned her." Riley muttered as she swallowed a sip. She wished it were stronger. "Obviously she's something special if he had to keep her to himself."

"That's just it, Parker; she's not special to him." Morgan picked up his coffee and leaned against the counter. "You are special to him. After he met Lila and we left LA… he had feelings for her. He liked her. He liked her a lot. And he wondered if that feeling would ever go away. Do you know what happened later?"

Riley shrugged, not wanting to hear about this. "No. I'm a little fuzzy on his past until he slept with his therapist."

"Alright, little girl, stop being snarky for two minutes and listen to me." He demanded. "That feeling… it went away. I never heard him mention her again. Maybe he thought about her for a few weeks, maybe she crossed his mind every once in awhile, they parted on great terms and left a door wide open for something… but she never became a part of his life. You, on the other hand, were completely untouchable. Both of you broke down the barriers to be together. And then you left. He was in love with you and you broke his heart. You were on his mind every moment over those seven months. Every day was agony for him. And how many times did he give his life for you? Twice?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "But you can't pretend you didn't see that. How nervous and… edgy he was. I don't do that to him. I don't drive him crazy. She's gorgeous. I use intelligence and sarcasm to cover up how plain and boring I am. She's got this lively, bubbly personality… I'm dark and twisted inside. Given the choice, which one would you take?"

"For one night or for the rest of my life?" Morgan asked. "Your insecurities would have validation if you were dating someone like me. And maybe – maybe – they would be justified if you were dating someone like Reid… but you're dating Reid. He is not that kind of a guy. He's not interested in one night stands and casual sex. He wants to be with you for the rest of his life and he's not going to throw that away just because some leggy blonde bats her eyelashes at him."

Riley was still not convinced. Just the idea of that girl putting her arms around him made her sick to her stomach. She fidgeted uncomfortably, wanting nothing more than to rush through the unit and scratch that woman's eyes out.

Morgan studied her the entire time. It didn't take a profiler to know what she was thinking. "You know… I wish you could step outside yourself and see that boy light up when you walk into the room. You should hear him when he talks to you… nothing else exists in the world." His eyes flashed for a moment to the bull pen, where Emily had returned from wherever she had disappeared to. "I might be a player… but I would give anything for a woman to love me like that." He turned back to Riley. "The world might notice Lila Archer… but you are the world to Spencer Reid."

Those words got to her. Riley's eyes finally met with Morgan's. "I think you owe him an apology."

She gave a small, conceding sigh. "You're right," she reached up to give him a hug. "Spencer's lucky to have you in his life." She let go, letting her hand brush his cheek as he smiled. "You're a good friend to him."

Riley headed out of the break room. Morgan called after her. "I'm a great friend, Parker. What's this 'good' shit?"

He watched Riley head up to the conference room. Morgan's eyes darted on Emily one more time before returning to the coffee.

…

Hotch, meanwhile, was in his office. Poor JJ. It must be awful having to deal with these separate police stations all the time. If they weren't furious for not receiving the BAU's help, they were bitter at the fact they had to accept it. It was a wonder she did this so well.

NYPD was giving him a bit of a runaround. He couldn't exactly demand for their assistance. The notes didn't exactly justify help yet, so this wasn't a federal case.

Not yet.

He was supposed to be with Jack right now. It was his weekend with his son… and had things gone better, he wouldn't even have bothered coming in. The request for the protective order was just an excuse, he could have just called Reid and asked. At least work was a distraction from his life and his empty apartment and the fact that the ex-wife he still loved… was dating someone else. A someone his son would rather be with this weekend.

"Yes, hello, this is Agent Hotchner, I'm calling in regards to the Lila Archer case your detectives are working on. I'm just wondering what their progress is at this point… I am the Unit Chief of the Behavior Analysis Unit… I realize this is not a federal case, but we are looking into it for a friend… it is a federal case?"

Confused, Hotch hid his puzzlement, "So you did match the remains with a victim… I see, and who?"

The shock washed through his system quickly. He leaned back slowly, unsure if he'd heard this man right. "You're sure… it's an exact match… thank you. No, you've been a big help." Hotch slowly hung up the phone. He only sat still for a minute to gather his thoughts before he grabbed the phone, needing to inform JJ and Rossi they had to be here in the morning.