Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. If I did, Reid would be the main character of each and every episode, and "angst" would be the word of the day--- every day.

Author Note: My first fic. I'm proud of this, and I am just learning the ropes of this site, so be patient with me. Reviews would be greatly appreciated! 

The case began as most of them did: the team sitting around in the conference room, in varying states of composure and attitude.

Morgan, possibly one of the best cops on the team and an infinite Casanova in his off-time, was lounging in a chair on the far end of the polished table, one foot forward and one back, seeming to be the most relaxed of all of them. His dark amber eyes, however, told a different story. Intent, driven, and the wheels behind them already clicking, he listened carefully to Hotch's story.

The Hotch in question, the team's lead agent and supervisor, cut the same figure as ever: commanding, strong, ever professional. His body was younger than his eyes, and his mind was sharp enough to guarantee both an increasing rank in the Bureau and the lasting respect of those who worked under him. He spoke quickly, but with no undue emotion.

"We've got a case. Double homicide, a tenured college professor and his live-in girlfriend, also a student in one of his philosophy classes. Dr. Sean Green and Amanda Synthia."

"Cradle robber?" This question was posed half as a joke, half as a serious question, with one thin, angular eyebrow raised, by the beautiful brunette across from Morgan. With a name like Elle and a beauty worthy of the cover of Vogue, she didn't physically appear to be the FBI agent she had become. With a background in sex crimes and a talent for the hidden (and for Spanish), she was fast accumulating a reputation of her own.

"No. The professor has two pH. D's, but is quite young."

"How young?"

Hotch paused as what seemed to be a wry smile crossed his face. "Twenty-nine."

"Really?" This last query, delivered with just enough inflection to articulate both surprise and curiosity, came from the youngest in the group--- twenty-four year old Dr. Spencer Reid.

Reid seemed less like an agent and more like an undergrad, and had been told so by countless people since his beginning at the BAU. His smooth, pale skin and large, dark eyes proved his youth. And when coupled with the constant presence of his satchel of files, his uncanny ability to flip pens and palm coins, and his power to recite the entire contents of every book in every bookshelf in his apartment, he had become well-known in the Bureau as "that quiet genius kid". Indeed, upon reading a map, his eidetic memory (and I.Q. of 182) would immediately file every road, field, city, and town in his mind for further use, and compound the visual with statistics on every aspect thereof.

Everyone in the room understood his curiosity. After finishing elementary school at ten, graduating high school at twelve, and accumulating bachelors degrees, masters degrees, and three pH. D.'s at sixteen, eighteen, and twenty-two respectively, he would obviously have a marked interest in a professor of roughly the same path.

"Really," Hotch responded. "Synthia was twenty-eight, and prior to their relationship, Green worked as her thesis advisor."

He clicked a projector. Immediately, images they had all been trained to read and understand flashed upon the screen. But reading and understanding didn't equate to emotionlessness, and they all fought a very brief inner battle for a moment, as blood, urine, and two corpses filled the screen.

One agent in particular felt bile fill his throat. He'd been doing this for longer than Reid had been alive, and some visuals still held the power to surprise and pain him. The oldest of the team, and gifted with an almost inexplicable talent to feel and understand Evil, his name was Jason Gideon, and his eyes were the darkest of them all, shadowed with the sights and sounds of many years' casework.

After less than a second, he swallowed smoothly and spoke. His voice could still surprise those unacquainted with him, due to its softness. Were it not for his chosen career path, his gentle voice suggested he could have been someone's father, husband, uncle, lover. As it was, he was their hardest, most talented, and most respected leader. And as the colorful tech-assistant Garcia sometimes put it, "their Obi-Wan".

"Synthia left a message with college administration," he said, "relaying that he was sick and in the hospital, and would not be coming to work for at least a week. When the week was up, some students became concerned, and attempted to visit him in the hospital, where they were told no such patient had been admitted. Upon a visit to his apartment, they discovered the bodies."

"The method appears to have been torture," added Hotch. "At least for Green. The girlfriend was killed near the phone, and killed early. TOD is at least a week prior, which suggests that she called the college and was killed shortly thereafter. Voluntarily or under persuasion is up for debate. A tox screen came back negative."

"Probably forced," said Reid.

"Yeah," Morgan agreed. "Check out Green--- what was he, bound?"

"Yes. Steel chains restrained his hands, waist, chest, and feet into a steel chair. The unsub undoubtedly brought both the chains and chair with them, as nothing of the sort was found in his apartment. He was tortured over the course of the week in a variety of methods."

"Practically, or not?" Elle asked. The question was an important one--- they had learned in an earlier case about the difference between practical (unemotional) torture, and unpractical (emotional).

"Practically. There are marks from the injection of hypodermic needles, which indicates administration of serums or poisons. His fingernails were removed with pliers, his hands burned, his eyes punctured--- all one at a time, I should note." Hotch clicked another button, flipping through said images, until arriving at a head shot. "However, none of the injuries were fatal, and would only cause lasting pain instead. Actual cause of death was a gunshot wound to the head. Smooth, fast, and painless."

Another button, and a prelim police report appeared.

"Locals are stumped. It's a small college town in upstate New York, and Green was their pride and joy, both for the college students and staff as well as the community at large. The department is short-staffed and under funded, and they simply haven't got the resources for this kind of crime. Suspectless is bad enough, but a torturous unsub with a military background, as indicated by his methods, is well beyond their talents."

"Well, I guess we have a plane ride to catch," Morgan said, getting to his feet. "Let's go."

More chapters to come. What will happen next?