"Why didn't you tell me?" Reid demanded. He and the rest of the team had returned to the conference room, listening to Riley's encounter yesterday.
"I didn't want to worry you over nothing." Riley explained. "You were focused on this, you had enough on your mind. I had no idea they were connected! I didn't think you needed to know."
It was a rare time when Reid had been this furious with her. The last time had been back in Seattle. "You don't ever get to decide what I need to know. How am I supposed to protect you if you don't tell me these things?"
Riley did not like being treated like some damsel in distress. "Excuse me, 'protect you'? I don't need you to protect me, Spencer."
"Considering your past history, I disagree!" He yelled.
"Alright!" Rossi interrupted. "The two of you can continue your lover's quarrel later. Let's focus on the case right now. Reid," He pulled his hazel eyes, darken with fearful anger, to his attention. "I think I'm the only one here who doesn't know Nathan Harris, so I'm going to ask you… are you sure this is him?"
"Yes," He replied, not giving it a second of thought. "I wouldn't let myself think it was him, but there is no denying it. The profile fits perfectly."
"Reid, we didn't even make a full one yet." Morgan explained. "It's just a partial."
"But what we do have fits." Hotch corrected. "We know he's very intelligent, he's patient, he's connected to Dr. Reid. He has aggressive tendencies and he kills for a purpose, regardless of who he's targeting. Since his main target is prostitutes, he's obviously misogynistic and, from the police reports, he's a sadist."
"Just as Gideon suspected he would be… if he didn't get help."
"He seems split in two directions." Emily read the file. She remembered Nathan, it had been right after she started at the BAU. "He doesn't want to kill these women but he can't stop the urges that force him… it would explain why he's angry with Reid."
"Why?" Rossi asked.
"Nathan tried to kill himself," Garcia explained. "I was out with Reid when he received a call… a woman found his business card. Nathan had slit his wrists in a motel room. We managed to get there in time. He wouldn't have survived otherwise."
"After all this time, I can't believe they couldn't help him." JJ said.
Emily was curious, "Riley, why did you interview him?"
"It was in my training. When they hire shrinks, no matter how well they know abnormal psychology, the Bureau will not put them one on one with new criminals or victims without extensive preparation. Nathan was at Havensall at the time. It's pretty rare when the patients aren't convicted criminals, but there are a few."
"I can't believe his mother agreed to that." Emily voiced.
"She didn't," Hotch read over the file. "His mother died a month into his treatment in a car accident. No other family stepped forward, so he became property of the city until he was eighteen."
Emily took the file next. "It says he was released two years ago."
"Which would correspond with Elle's case." Morgan agreed.
"Guys, there is no evidence that Nathan is the unsub in Elle's case." Hotch stated, not wanting anyone to jump to conclusions.
"Yes there is," Emily exclaimed. She looked to Morgan, "Remember what Shakira said?'
"No," He responded.
"Someone named Nathan bought his usual cigarettes and Diet Dr. Pepper." Emily explained her thinking to the entire group. "It has to be Harris. Let's say word got to him about what Larissa was doing for extra cash. In his eyes, that makes her a prostitute. He's patient. He scouts out the location, waiting for the perfect time to get Larissa alone. He can't have any witnesses. When he came that night, Shakira didn't see or hear him because she said she was listening to her music. It's perfect. He asks Larissa into the back room, kills her, and makes it out before Shakira notices anything."
"True, and Myra was a stripper." Morgan agreed. "We don't know her story… but she could have been finding ways to make extra money."
"We should call Elle," JJ declared. "She's the closest we have to an expert in this prostitute case. She can help us find Nathan and, if we're right, prove the connection."
Hotch thought carefully. They had been working nonstop almost all weekend.
Things would look better through fresh eyes. "Look, we're all tired," He finally said. "Some of us are running on very little sleep. Let's call it a day and start early tomorrow. Garcia, first thing in the morning, you start tracking down Nathan's whereabouts. I'll find out if Elle is willing to help us on the case, but I'm not going to force her. Riley, if you like, I can make a call, request your assistance in this."
"Definitely," Riley agreed. She took a glance at her boyfriend. His anger had yet to subside.
"Good, and Rossi-"
"I'll clear everything with Strauss." He seemed to be on the same page.
"Do you really think she'll care?" JJ asked.
Rossi began to explain. "I know she'll care. When we're on the clock, Strauss demands to be fully aware of the team's activities."
"Damnit, she watches us like a hawk!" Morgan cried.
"The point is there's enough justification to make this a BAU case, but since one team member is personally related, she may demand it be handed over. Possibly to a rookie team or even another department. I'll convince her we're the best people for the job."
"Everyone else, we'll decide on assignments tomorrow." Hotch said. "Let's go home."
He and Rossi walked out while the rest gathered themselves to leave. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink," Emily said.
It had indeed been a stressful weekend. "It's on me," Morgan agreed. "Anyone else?"
"No way, I'm headed home to try and salvage a few hours with my boys," JJ said. "I'll see you in the morning."
"We should go home, too." Reid said, making sure Nathan's file got into his bag. He was more worried than angry now, but was not in the mood to keep much company.
"By Reid," Emily called as he and Riley headed to the door. "Good luck, Rye."
She flashed Emily a dirty look before they were out of sight.
"Garcia, you in?" Morgan stood, stretching his muscles.
"Yes, definitely." She exclaimed, smiling, "Unless you two want to be alone."
"Why would we want to be alone?" Emily wondered, hesitant.
"No reason," she said shrugging.
Morgan sported his own dirty look, which fortunately went unnoticed by Agent Prentiss.
…
Morgan did not want to be alone with Emily. The more times he said that over and over in his head, the less he believed it. Garcia drove them in her car, the one she had named Esther, to the usual hangout the team migrated to after work. It was cold, so the top was up. Morgan sat shotgun. Every few minutes, his eyes landed on Emily in the rearview mirror, joining in the conversation from the backseat.
Even for a Sunday night, the bar was busy. Football always managed to bring in a crowd, and hockey often did when the Capitals played. The three made it inside, ordered drinks and headed over to grab the only available pool table.
Garcia didn't stay long. It wasn't a half an hour before she had a call from Kevin, wanting to meet her for dinner. After assuring her that they could find their own way home, she took off, leaving Morgan and Emily alone
It wasn't long before Morgan was the center of attention to another group of young girls. Before he knew it, he was in the middle of the group, buying shots and drinks, engaged in his usual flirting. Emily was the farthest from his mind.
Late night was creeping up on them. In fact, it was close to nine before Morgan even remembered Emily was still with him. His eyes traveled across the room, spotting her at the other end of the bar, and felt the red hot jealousy burn in his stomach.
She sat with a beer bottle in one hand, sitting with a rather attractive young man in a football jersey. He had to be at least ten years younger than her, but the age difference didn't seem to matter to either of them. It bothered him how close he was getting too; the way he was whispering in her ear like that. He didn't like that one arm was around her waist, the other hand somewhere out of sight. But mostly, he did not like the way Emily kept smiling at him, leaning into him.
Excusing himself quickly from the girls, he made a beeline to their end of the bar. Neither one noticed him as he sat down. It made him sick seeing the jock's hand in the small of her back, and even sicker noticing Emily's delicate one resting high on his thigh. Finally, after a few seething minutes, he spoke up to grab their attention.
"There you are, Prentiss," he cried, leaning his arms on the bar. "I've been looking for you."
Slowly, Emily turned in her seat, meeting his dark eyes. "Is there something you need, Morgan?"
"Just wondering where you've been all night." He flashed a threatening smile at the young man. "Who's your little friend?"
"Malcolm, this is Derek Morgan, we work together." She said to the young man. "While you were busy chatting up the pep squad over there, Malcolm was kind enough to buy me a drink."
"That was nice of him," Morgan said to Malcolm. "Very chivalrous. Are you over 21 or did you swipe your big brother's ID?"
"Morgan," Emily hissed.
"I wasn't under the impression Emily was your girlfriend, considering the company you were keeping over there." Malcolm stated. "She seemed lonely. A pretty girl like her shouldn't be left alone, Mr. Morgan."
"It's Agent Morgan." He corrected. He whipped out his badge. "As in Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan of the FBI."
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Malcolm asked.
"I was going for intimidated." Morgan clarified.
Malcolm's arm slipped around Emily's waist, sliding onto her inner thigh, "Baby, what say we leave Agent Morgan to his teeny boppers. You want to get out of here?"
"Gladly," Emily agreed, standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Instinctively, Morgan grabbed her arm. "Prentiss… you are not leaving with him." He whispered.
"You want to repeat that?" Emily cried, trying to pull from his grip, but he was too strong.
"You just met him." Morgan murmured.
She leaned into him, whispering through her gritted teeth. "I like him. And I like sex. How many girls have you left this bar with after only an hour or two? I'm not even sure Reid can count that high!"
Morgan could not explain what had come over him. All he knew was he could not let her walk out that door. "Emily… I'm begging you, do not leave with him."
"My…" she said with a pleased smile, "Jealousy makes a man awfully transparent." At last, she managed to pull from his clasp. "See you in the morning."
It took everything in him not to grab her again and force her to stay. Malcolm led her out the door, neither one meeting his envious gaze. Morgan took Emily's seat. He ordered a drink, attempting to replace the hot stone of jealousy with alcohol.