TITLE: Criminal Minds – "Darkest Days" (A sequel to Behind the Mask)

AUTHOR: D M Harper

SUMMARY: Agent Prentiss is forced to face her secretive past when it threatens the safety of her BAU colleagues and her beloved family.

RATING: For Mature Readers.

DISCLAIMER: This story was conjured up for reading entertainment only. No money has exchanged hands or bank accounts. There is no profit gained, just fancy flights of imagination. There is no intention to infringe on the copyright of CBS Television Studios or creator Jeff Davis. This writing does feature consensual sexual interaction between two females, so if you are underage or unable to view due to restrictions in your part of the world, be gone and take my sympathy with you. If you find such material offensive, too bad, so sad, you chose to enter this web site of your own free will; hence you have no one to whine to except yourself or a parent if you are caught, so bugger off!

A/N: Please find them time to review and fed the Muse.


Chapter 7

Heavy teardrops blurred Emily's vision as she drove home in the pouring rain. The combination caused her to pull the sedan to the side of road several times before she regained some semblance of control over her escalating feelings of dread and sorrow. With the news from Sean, she only had one option and that was to keep her family, friends and colleagues and their families out of harms' way.

The name Ian Doyle had filled her with abject horror and now her life had taken a complete turn for the worse. There was no second guessing where this man was involved. He would seek revenge and inflict the harshest of penalties against those he believed to be responsible for his imprisonment in a North Korean political penitentiary. At the top of that list was Emily and her behaviour in the days to come would be dictated by that fact.

To keep her family safe, Emily needed to distance herself from them and keep their identities a secret from the man who would wish them ill. That though alone compelled Emily to begin her quest that evening.

Wiping away the last remnant of tears, she put the car into gear and headed home again.

When she pulled into the garage and secured the roller door, Emily rushed inside and packed two suitcases of clothing and items she would need over the coming weeks or for however long was necessary for her to be apart from Jillian and the twins. Once she was satisfied she had all she required, Emily stowed her belongings in her car and made for her old apartment. Thankfully, it was still empty and when Doyle began his search for her that would be where he would look and not the house in Woodbridge.

Entering the apartment, Emily reset the alarm system then went to the main bedroom to unpack before taking toiletries to the bathroom. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she allowed the tears to flow again. "What have you done?" she questioned herself harshly.

Inhaling deeply, Emily returned to her bedroom. Collecting sleepwear, she showered and readied for bed.

Getting comfortable some fifteen minutes later, Emily closed her eyes and listened to the rainfall outside the fire escape window. Finding same calm in the rhythmic beats, she grew tired and started to drift off when she detected a scratching sound at the window. Turning on the bedside lamp, Emily reached to the side and gathered her Glock from the top bureau drawer. Climbing out of bed, she approached the noise and grinned when she saw a small, drenched black kitten pawing at the pane.

Unlocking the window, Emily pushed it upwards and the cat immediately jumped onto her chest. Nestling in, it licked her jaw and purred.

"Hey little cutie," Emily said while stroking the damp, soft fur. "Where did you come from? I think we better get you dry and by the feel of you; you need some food."

In response, the kitten looked up at Emily with sparkling blue eyes and meowed.

Securing the window before the alarm went off; Emily ruffled her visitor's head then went into the bathroom. Once the bundle of fur was patted dry and sex determined, she carried him into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Locating a container of sliced turkey, Emily closed the door and reached for two bowls in the overhead cabinet. Filling one with water, she added cut up poultry to the other and set them both down on the tiled floor. Placing the feline down, she watched as he heartily ate then lapped up most of the water. When he had his fill, he brushed up against her ankles and purred loudly with contentment.

"You must have been on your own for a while," she surmised while scooping him up with her hands. "I bet you are ready for sleep now that your belly is full." Grabbing some newspaper and a foil oven tray, Emily fashioned a temporary litter commode for the kitten and left it in the bathroom. Putting him on the floor, she laughed when he went straight to it and took care of his business. "Well done little one," she praised before picking him up again and heading for the bedroom.

Settling into bed, the cat got comfortable on her chest and promptly closed his eyes. Switching off the lamp, Emily said, "Because I have a late start tomorrow; we can go to Vet first thing and have you checked out. Maybe we'll find a microchip and get you back to your owners."

In reply, the kitten snuggled in under Emily's chin and purred louder. The stress and caution evoked by her conversation with Seam McAllister faded as Emily answered slumber's call.

-o-

After an early appointment with the Veterinarian, Emily learnt her visitor was six months old and did not have an identification chip implanted. By the time she left for work, the cat had been neutered, microchipped and vaccinated against all feline diseases. Emily's neighbour Brianna was due to pick him up from the Vet's after he regained consciousness and his new owner left her with toys, bowls, a kitty litter tray and a bright blue collar for when she dropped him home.

Emily worked on consults until five that day and was delighted to find the kitten resting on her bed when she arrived home at six. His eyes pricked up as his eyelids opened and he stretched all four limbs. Grinning, Emily neared the bed and scratched the now purring ball of black fur under the chin.

"I guess we better find you a name," she posed while taking a seat on the mattress. "What about Sergio?"

As if understanding and replying, the kitten meowed softly and licked Emily's hand.

"Well, you seem to approve, so Sergio it is." Collecting her phone from the pocket of her trousers, Emily called Brianna and thanked her for taking care of Sergio with an invite to dinner.

-o-

Over the next three weeks, Emily and Sergio continued to bond while she dealt with new cases with the Team along with avoiding travelling to Titusville to visit her family. She had received no further information from Sean, but that fact alone, did not dissuade her from involving them. For the time being, she was content to speak with Jillian and the twins via Skype and managed to join storybook time each night. When pressed by her wife as to why she wasn't making the trip to her parent's home, Emily cited the caseload as the excuse. Jillian appeared to be appeased by the reason and stopped inquiring after the first weekend.

Workwise, Emily made no mention of the possible threat McAllister's warning implied was coming and it was business as usual while she kept an eye out for any form of surveillance being conducted on her. So far, she had taken every precaution and never journeyed to and from her apartment the same route twice in a row. Her concern ebbed slightly and she decided to visit Titusville. She relished two days with Jillian, Jarrod and Samantha and her in-laws and she actually relaxed and forgot all about Ian Doyle. That all changed when she arrived home on Monday the thirtieth of January.

It was another stormy night, and after saying hello to her neighbour Cheryl in the hallway; Emily entered her apartment and reset the alarm system while placing her umbrella into the stand next the lobby table. Walking down the hall towards her bedroom, Emily shed herself of her black shoulder bag and black overcoat. Tossing both onto the bed, the black booted, black trousers and black sweater attired Agent knelt in front of the cabinet opposite the end of the bed and opened the door. Revealing a safe, she punched in the numbers 0527 followed by the letters A, A. With the door opening, Emily reached inside and withdrew an A4 sized envelope containing three passports, a USB thumb drive and sheets of printed paper.

Going into the dining room and taking a seat at the table, Emily placed the passports and memory stick to the side. Picking up a page, she looked at heavily redacted data including a picture of herself under the heading of Agent Name and the word "Belgium" inserted beside the caption Citizenship. Every other line had been blackened out and Emily frowned while going through the other pages. Collecting three photos, she studied them and took in the faces belonging to Agents Tsia Morsely from France, Sean McAllister from the UK and Clyde Easter also from the UK.

Focusing on the picture of Sean, Emily relived the meeting they had three weeks earlier. Returning to the present, she took possession of a fourth photo clipped to several sheets of writing paper containing her handwriting. Looking at the image of Irishman, target and suspect Ian Doyle, she was pulled back into another memory of him watching her being placed into a vehicle by men dressed in suits. The expression on his face was one of surprise as was hers.

Her reminiscence came to an abrupt halt when Sergio leapt onto her lap with a meow. Startled, she hugged him then ran a hand down his spine, "Serg, you scared the crap out of me. Why are you wet? Have you been out in the rain again?" Stunned into reality by her own questions, Emily went straight into defensive mode. Sergio jumped off her lap as she stood and stared at the front door.

Going to the chest of drawers behind her, Emily gathered her Glock and ammo clip. Aiming the weapon to the front, she continued to chat with Sergio while raising her gun and making her way into the kitchen to search, "I really do miss you when I'm gone Sergio."

Inching past the picture of an owl, Emily turned the corner and her cheerful words to the kitten belied the look of concern on her face, "You are the cutest kitten I've ever seen." Pushing open the door, she entered the hallway and went into her bedroom. Observing the yellow curtain blowing from the outside wind, Emily rushed over to the window adjacent to the head of the bed and pulled the curtain back; exposing the open window.

"Did you sneak down the fire escape again buddy?" she asked the non-present feline. Securing the window, Emily tucked her gun into the back of her waistband and went to the landline situated on the other side table. Picking up the receiver, she placed a call.

"Hey Brianna, it's Emily."

"Hi, how are you?"

"I'm fine and you?"

"Good apart from this crazy storm."

"Speaking of that, did you happen to leave the fire escape window open for Serg?"

"Yes I did. Is there a problem? There isn't any water damage, is there?"

With a sigh of relief, Emily walked over to the window and looked out, "No, it's all good. Thanks for taking such great care of the little guy."

"It's not a problem and he is too cute to resist."

"Yeah, he has that affect."

"How was your visit?"

"It was real good and the kids were a joy. We still on for lunch Saturday?"

"We sure are, talk to you later. Goodnight Emily."

"Great, I'll give you a call, night."

Sergio ran into the room as Emily tossed the receiver onto the bed. He meowed and she bent over to pick him up. "Buddy, Brianna is right, you are too cute to resist."

Just then the landline rang and Sergio took off again. Emily noticed the unknown caller on the screen and decided to let it go to the answering machine. After three rings, she listened as her missive began, "Hi, it's Emily. Leave a message."

After the beep, there was nothing but silence. That sent a chill down Emily's backbone and when the caller hung up; she went to the bureau and collected bottles of perfume. Going back to the windows, she placed them on the top two sills and set up noise alerts. Going back into the hallway, she went to the door and removed the pot plant from the table and set it on the bottom shelf. Pushing the table up against the door, Emily took the blue vase Penelope had given her and balanced it on the edge of the wooden surface.

Satisfied with her alarms, Emily went to the end of the corridor, grabbed an armchair and put it in the middle of the wooden floor. Taking out her gun, she sat down, turned off the lights and focused on the front door. Worry was etched on her features and it didn't fade; not even the next morning while she prepared for work.

-o-

"Hunting is not a sport. In a sport, both sides should know they are in the game." Comedian Paul Rodriguez

A sleep deprived and concerned Emily walked into the Conference Room as Penelope was about to exit. Garcia rotated and returned to the monitor as Morgan took one look at this Partner and noted her drawn features.

"Hey," Penelope said in greeting.

Emily's response was curt, "Hey."

"You're running late Princess. Did someone have a late night on Skype?" he teased.

"Someone want to mind their own business?" she snapped while going to the coffee machine for her third cup since dressing in boots, black trousers, white sweater, olive jacket and black overcoat.

The retort did not go unnoticed by her colleagues and Penny was about to ask what was going on when Hotch waltzed into the room and said, "Garcia."

Picking up the remote, she commenced, "Okay. Spin the wheel of crime and it lands on sunny, beachy Los Angeles."

"Shoot, that's the second time this year and it's only February," quipped Derek as he watched a sombre Emily take a seat.

Penny continued after Reid gave a history lesson on how Los Angeles received its name, "This is a weird one."

Derek was quick to pose the question, "As opposed to most of the cases we handle."

Garcia was just as swift, "You may want to hold your judgement until after I finish. Anyhoo, moving right along people. Three women have been abducted from different areas of the city and murdered in the past three weeks. Bank Teller Shelly Onto twenty three, was the first taken fifteen days ago. Vicki Hagerg, an Art Teacher and thirty nine was six days ago and Linda Dean, twenty eight and a Hostess at a bar, was discovered two days ago. All three lived in different areas and none share similar socioeconomic backgrounds."

Aaron added, "All three women were held for approximately twenty four hours by the UNSUB before being dumped in a public area."

Dave's eyebrows rose, "He is not making any attempt to hide his killings."

Penelope pointed the remote to the screen and brought up photos of the dumpsites, "And here is one of the weird parts"

Emily studied the images and noted, "They all look like floaters."

Garcia confirmed, "All three victims were drowned."

Spencer drew a comparison between the pictures of the bodies and commented, "They weren't found near or in water."

"That is correct," announced Penelope.

"They were drowned someplace else and moved to the dumpsites," revealed Hotch.

Derek glanced at Penny, "You were right, this is weird."

"Oh but wait, there is more," she replied.

Aaron went on, "All three women weren't drowned in water."

Looking at this tablet, Reid hypothesised, "Methanol?"

Hotch went on with the Medical Examiner's findings, "It was in each of the victim's lungs which indicated they were alive before being submerged. There were no traces of water, just Methanol."

"Drowning is a tough method to kill someone," pointed out Dave.

Aaron nodded in agreement, "It's slow. The UNSUB wants the victim to suffer and obviously has the space and privacy to carry it out without being detected."

Disgust formed on Penelope's face, "As if there hasn't already been enough weirdness, our killer removed an identical piece of flesh from the underside of each women's right foot."

"Methanol and skin; what the hell is the UNSUB doing?" queried Rossi while looking at the square two inch patch of missing flesh.

Standing, Hotch addressed his team, "Wheels up in ten people."

-o-

When the Agents had done reviewing the evidence they had, Emily moved to the back of the jet and called Jillian. She needed to talk to her wife and somehow feel less guilty for keeping the matter of Ian Doyle from her. Her shoulders were weighed down with shame for not bringing her Team or Jillian into the equation. The little voice inside her head was still telling her it was for the best that they not have any knowledge at this time.

Her inner musing was disrupted when Jillian answered, "Hey sweetheart, how are you?"

Emily's foul mood instantly vanished, "Hello honey. I'm good and you?"

"I'm better now that I'm talking with you. I suppose you and the Team are on the way to Los Angeles."

"Ahh shit, has the case hit the news already?"

Giggling, Jillian whispered, "Goodness, you sound sexy when you pout."

Joining the merriment, Emily replied, "Don't tease me when I need to have my wits about me."

"I can't promise anything and all the reports are saying there is a serial killer on the loose with three women discovered."

"The UNSUB is drowning his victims with Methanol and cutting a patch of flesh from their right foot."

"Crap. I suppose Spencer was straight onto the fact that compositionally, Methanol is the simplest of alcohols and is the base element in many other chemicals?"

"He was and he mentioned it was used as rocket fuel and in wine making. I may have to reconsider my liking for wine."

Chuckling, Jillian scoffed, "It hasn't killed you yet sweetheart and the amount is not enough to hurt you."

"Yeah, Spencer explained it is only toxic at certain levels and is abundant in the environment."

"It certainly is a strange choice of weapon," surmised Jillian.

"I miss having your brain around," lamented Emily with a touch of sadness.

"Are you getting mushy on me?"

"I am and can't wait to have you and the kids back home."

"We can come home anytime Em."

"That's not a good idea until you lose the cast and anyway, the house is being fumigated this week."

"Say what?"

"I thought it was an excellent opportunity to have the place sprayed while you were away." It wasn't a lie, she actually did organise the sterilisation the week before.

"Okay and where are you staying?"

"At my old apartment; I've put a hold on having new tenants for a while."

"That makes sense. Say, do you want to chat with the twins?"

"I do babe."

"I'll go rustle them up. Mom has them in the backyard at the moment."

"Where are you then?"

"I'm in the kitchen cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Hang on, I'll just walk outside."

"Jill."

"Yes sweetheart?"

"I love you and the babies with all my heart."

"We love you too Em and we'll be together soon."

"Yes we will," Emily prayed that statement was true.

After chatting with Jarrod, Samantha and Maureen, Emily said goodbye and returned to her tablet. For a moment, the niggling fear was pushed aside and Emily could concentrate.

-o-

The BAU Team arrived at the Police Station and a Detective Bailey greeted the members as they signed in. After introductions, Emily, now dressed in black boots, a crème round necked blouse, denim jeans and a grey jacket, went to speak with the victims' families; Spencer went to check out the geographical profile while Dave and Aaron followed the Detective to the morgue to speak with the Medical Examiner. Detective Bailey informed the Agents the last two victims had been found before the Missing Persons' Report had entered the system. That titbit was already known to the Team.

When Aaron, Dave and Detective Bailey regrouped with Reid a short time later in the room commandeered for their use, it was established the fluid in the lungs of the three victims was one hundred percent Methanol and their bodies had been soaked in it as well. Also added to the evidence was the fact the women had not been totally submerged in the liquid, but the soaking had taken place over the majority of the time from when they had gone missing. The Doctor confirmed the cut to the first victim's foot had been done with a shaking hand which caused the edges of the wound to be jagged while the other two had been more proficient and carried out with more confidence and skill. Those procedures only contained trace elements of Methanol which indicated they had taken place after the bodies had been removed from the chemical. It also dismissed the theory the killings were about torture or pain. Hotch believed the Methanol served more of a purpose than that of a method for drowning.

Another vital piece of information from the M.E. concluded the women had chloroform in their blood systems and it had been breathed in rather than administered via a cloth being pressed against their nasal openings or mouth. There was burning to the interior of the nose, presenting the possibility of the Methanol being inhaled as a mist.

Spencer's research on purchasing Methanol expanded the profile as the chemical was freely available from any chemical supply store in the Southern California area. He also learnt the substance could be bought in either small or large quantities without any control from authorities.

As the Team processed what they had, Reid made note of the fact the geographical area used by the UNSUB to locate and dispose of his victims was vast. Linda Dean had been abducted from Hollywood and her body dumped in Echo Park. Shelly Onto had been seen in the garment district before her body was dumped in Sherman Oaks while Vickie Hagerg was taken from Torrance south of the city and her body found in Westlake. The only place he had not used was downtown. There was debate as to whether the zone could be eliminated or considered as the next target area. Spencer pointed out the dumpsites were truly just that and the UNSUB had taken no time to stage or conceal the bodies. He likened disposal as treating the victims as garbage. The data pointed to the UNSUB being mobile whether the dumping was orchestrated or a random opportunity. Reid concluded with the evidence showing all dumpsites were between the 110 and 405 freeways and the 5 and 10 North and South.

Emily returned from talking to the victims' families, "Linda Dean's parents said she always took the Red Line from work at night, but the subway in L.A. stops running at one am and Linda clocked out of work at five minutes past one."

Dave questioned, "L.A. at one? She probably didn't walk home."

"No and Kingsley where she lives, is a mile away," agreed Emily.

Hotch interjected, "The UNSUB needed an enclosed space for the victims to breathe in aerosolised chloroform."

Spencer was next, "Chloroform is under much stricter control than Methanol is. I'll ask Garcia to track any large quantity purchases or thefts from chemical supply houses over the past two months."

Taking in all that information, Emily put forth, "Okay, we are looking for a vehicle; obviously the type that can be in any zone of Los Angeles at one in the morning and not attract any undue attention."

Detective Bailey spoke up, "I really hate to say it, but we could be looking for a Police car."

"Or a taxi" conceded Aaron.

-o-

Derek placed a call to Garcia and she answered instantly, "Hi there my chocolate stud muffin."

Chuckling, Morgan replied, "You are good for the soul Baby Girl."

"I am your personal cheers squad. I gather this is not a social call."

"You'd be right. I need you to check out which cab companies serve the Hollywood area where Linda Dean was taken from."

"On it … oh there are seven. Bell, Beverly Hills, Checker, City, Independent, United and the Yellow Cab Company all service the area."

"Is it possible to narrow that down to find out which one picked up fares near Vaughn's Bar and Grill in the past seventy two hours?"

"Ask and yee shall receive, but it may take me a minute or two. Please standby and think of how scrumptious I am while you wait. I'll get back to you as soon as I have info."

Laughing out loud, Morgan countered, "I always think good thoughts of you."

"You know it, bye."

Ending the call, Derek addressed the others, "Garcia found seven companies and is checking for fare pickups during the last four days from Vaughn's."

Baily offered up, "The majority of taxis here run out of cab stands."

"That should narrow down the choices," suggested Hotch.

Just then Penelope phoned back and Derek put her on speaker, "Angels, I checked all seven companies and none of the drivers reported picking up a fare between eleven and two the night Linda went missing.

"Were they absolutely sure about that?" asked Emily with hands in her jeans pockets.

"They were positive," returned Penelope.

"Maybe one of the drivers picked someone up off the metre?" surmised Derek.

"No can do," countered Garcia. "All the cabs are fitted with PGS. They are tracked more than Kim Kardashian's bubble butt."

Reid's face scrunched up, "What does that mean?"

Rossi made the offer, "I'll explain it to him later Garcia."

"Thank you Mister Best Seller, bye for now my lovelies."

Emily became Captain Obvious when she stated, "So there were no taxis in the area."

Derek rolled his eyes at her and smirked as Dave pondered out loud, "What about a Gypsy cab? They drive around the streets in unregistered vehicles and look legit with their fake insignia,"

Bailey swiftly pointed out, "There are some two thousand and three hundred registered taxis in the city and at least as many unregistered."

"Okay," began Rossi. "But no one pays attention when they get into a cab."

Taking off her jacket, Emily perched herself on the corner of the table, "If the UNSUB isn't registered, he's not going to park outside taxi stands and wait to pick up fares like everyone else."

"That just makes it harder to locate him," proposed Morgan. "This guy could be anywhere."

Hotch turned to Bailey, "Detective, can you assemble everyone? We are ready to present the profile. Thank you."

Everyone started to leave the room except for Reid, who was busy studying a white board with chemical symbols drawn on it. He suddenly turned and reached for one of the many photos on the table.

"What is it Reid?" inquired Hotch.

"When I was in school we used Methanol to separate chemicals from one another. No matter what we did, we'd label a sample of the source material and keep it next to the yield."

"What kind of samples are you talking about?"

"We used square samples; two inches by two inches. I think the UNSUB is a scientist and he is experimenting."

Racing outside to the others, Hotch stood next to Dave, "We needed to get a preliminary profile to you as soon as we could because of the type of UNSUB we are dealing with."

Rossi took over, "We believe him to be a male Caucasian driving an unregistered Gypsy cab. He uses this vehicle to abduct the women."

"His victims have been between the ages of twenty and forty. We believe he is in that same age bracket," added Aaron.

Spencer addressed the group next, "We are looking for a very intelligent UNSUB which is evident from his use of methanol and aerosolised chloroform."

Aaron continued, "This is not unusual. True psychopaths often have above-average intelligence."

Emily took centre stage, "This particular type of UNSUB will not inject himself into this investigation as others often do. He will not be watching the investigation via news services or social media. He will not be concerned about whether he is leaving behind any evidence."

Detective Bailey posed the question, "So how come we can't find him?"

Spencer answered for the Team, "It comes down to what he is doing to the victims. He is submerging them in liquid which is washing away any forensic evidence that may have been out there. He is also wrapping the bodies in plastic."

Aaron commented, "There is something that is very helpful about the UNSUB; he is extremely antisocial."

"We've all heard how neighbours describe how surprised they are when an UNSUB is arrested. They go on about how nice he was, or helpful and well mannered. That will not be the case with this guy," announced Emily.

Rossi nodded, "Piece together the UNSUB's explosive, antisocial nature with taxi driving and someone will have made contact with him. That person will remember the interaction."

Hotch wound up the profile, "We suggest going public with this information as soon as we can. We need the people to know we are looking for an unregistered cab driver that has had confrontations with fares in the city. Hopefully, those people will come forward. Thank you all." Nearing Derek, Aaron directed, "Morgan, I want you to speak with the local media. We need this information in circulation."

"On it Boss."

Detective Bailey approached Hotch, "There's been a fourth body dumped."

"Oh crap," whispered Emily while collecting her jacket from the back of a chair.

-o-

The Team received a break in the investigation when a disgruntled customer contacted the Police minutes after the press conference aired. Emily and Derek sought out the woman and spoke to her outside her office building. The brunette in her early thirties described the cab as being unregistered and how the driver had made her, a paying customer get out.

She explained she was on the phone at the time she got in and mentioned the driver was listening to a recording of himself talking. The witness went on and told the Agents how the driver became aggressive and ordered her out of his cab. She'd managed to take down the last two digits of the cab's number: 33.

Emily and Derek left her with Police Officers after asking her to look at some ID photos. Emily faced her partner and quirked her eyebrows, "If he is listening to recordings of himself, he's not only antisocial; he's delusional too."

"I guess it's time we went looking for the taxi," recommended Derek.

-o-

At the dumpsite, the latest victim was provisionally identified as Anissa Gold. The young woman had been reported missing by her room mate after failing to attend a job interview.

Back at the Police Station, Reid called Penelope, "Garcia, we need to shorten the list on the combinations of purchases you are searching for."

"You know list combinations are my life's true work and not to mention, my forte oh clever one. What do you need?"

"We are after items used to set up a laboratory."

"Such as Boy Wonder?" prompted Penny.

"Glass tubing, beakers, a container big enough to submerge an adult, and a quantity of Methanol sufficient enough to do so."

"Which list would you like me to compare that with?"

"Any address that corresponds with vast amounts of Methanol having been delivered there along with chloroform."

"I'll contact you as soon as I have woven my magic oh Extoled One."

"I await your call with baited breath."

There was a giggle on the other end as Spencer ended the call.

-o-

While inspecting the first taxi with the number ending in 33, Emily and Derek deduced the UNSUB chose a cab as means for abduction because it blended in with daily occurrences around the city and suburbs. It also provided excellent cover while the UNSUB was on the hunt. Emily pointed out a woman was more likely to enter a taxi voluntarily rather than a van while Derek proposed the UNSUB didn't chose his victims until they were actually in the cab.

"What is it about these passengers that attracts the UNSUB's attention?" queried Emily from her position in the backseat.

Morgan pondered the question for a moment, "I don't think it has anything to do with their visible appearance. He would get a better look at them while they were outside the cab.

Sliding the Perspex back and forward along the centre divider, Emily noted, "The passenger is closed off from the driver, so that discounts any physical touching."

"What about hearing? Maybe the women said something to set him off?" asked Derek as he leaned back in the driver's seat.

Emily zoned off during the silence brought on by contemplation and Morgan looked at her through the rear view mirror, "What's going on with you Prentiss?"

Making eye contact, Emily scoffed, "With me?"

"Yeah you. I've noticed you've been preoccupied the last couple of days, so something is on your mind. If something is bothering you, you can talk to me."

Caught between wanting to share her fear and keeping her friend out of harms' way, Emily went on the defensive, "Because I love you like a brother, I am asking you not to press me."

"Is there a problem with Jill?"

"No, definitely not."

"Then what gives?"

"Please Derek, don't push me for answers that I don't have."

"Okay, but if you need to talk, I am here for you."

"I appreciate it, but everything will be all right. Yuck it really does smell back here."

Turning around, Morgan stared at Emily and a lightbulb went off for the two Agents. Emily got out of the taxi and called Reid.

"Hey Emily," he answered after two rings.

"Could the UNSUB's behaviour be triggered by smell?"

"What do you mean?"

Derek joined Emily on the sidewalk as she inquired, "Could he be attracted to the smell of the victims?"

"Distillation extraction," pondered Spencer.

"Crap, I hope you know what you are talking about, because I have no clue Spence."

"I think you are onto something. Methanol can be used to create scents and aromas. All it takes is to soak something in it for hours and it will draw out the essential oils contained within. I need to look up something. I'll call you back when I know more Emily."

"Don't bother; we are on our way back to the station."

-o-

Once the Team had regrouped, Dave mulled over the latest evidence, "The UNSUB would have to have an exceptional sense of smell to detect the perfume being worn by his victims through the partition."

Reid didn't agree, "That would not apply to people with the olfactory disorder hyperosmia. They possess oversensitivity to smell. They can sense scents that others can't. I don't think he would be going after their perfume. It's an artificial scent and not something that would interest the UNSUB."

Emily suggested, "Maybe they weren't wearing anything on their skin."

"It could be their natural scent that is compelling him?" posed Hotch.

Spencer had another idea, "Smell is a powerful trigger for the memory. The UNSUB maybe trying to reanimate the memory of someone or something he has lost." He phone rang, "It's Garcia, excuse me. Do you have something?"

"This is totally rare and amazing and has never happened before."

"Go ahead."

"I located only one address for all the equipment you gave me. I am sending it to you all now."

"Thank you and well done Garcia," returned Spencer before concluding the call. "We have an address that fits the delivery orders."

Hotch closed his tablet, "Let's go people."

-o-

With sirens blaring and lights flashing, The BAU Team and Police Officers pulled up in the driveway of the address given by Garcia. As the Agents alighted from their vehicles with weapons drawn, Hotch directed Derek and Emily to go around the back of the house.

As he and Dave approached the front door, Rossi noted, "The bastard's got cameras on us."

Aaron pounded on the door as Derek and Emily raced to the rear of the structure, "Open up, F.B.I."

As they reached the yard, a yellow taxi sped off down the alley and Morgan yelled, "He's making a run for it."

Hotch joined them and instructed Spencer and Emily to search the house.

After gaining entry through the backdoor, Emily heard a woman sobbing and motioned to Reid, "It sounds like it's coming from the basement."

"There's a doorway here," pointed out Spencer as the duo moved into the kitchen. "Cover me," he said while opening the door and proceeding down the staircase.

Following closely behind, Emily shouted above the din of the sirens wailing outside, "FBI."

A woman's voice cried out, "Please help me."

Emily gasped when a naked Anissa Gold came into view. She was strapped to a back board that was chained to a hydraulic lift and positioned above a tub of liquid. Holstering her gun, Emily removed her jacket and placed it over the frightened woman as Spencer cleared the room then reached for the lift's control device.

"Please get me out of here," pleaded Anissa.

"We will," promised Emily while Reid raised the apparatus and she moved it away the vat.

"We got you Anissa. You are going to be all right," announced Emily as Spencer joined her.

"I'll start looking for something to cut the binds," stated Reid. He went to a workshop bench and located a pair of scissors, "This will do the trick. Emily, hold the board steady while I cut through."

"You got it. Anissa, we need you to stay perfectly still. Can you do that for us?"

"Yes … yes, just get me out of here."

Spencer commenced ridding the woman of the plastic cable ties used to hold her in place. Anissa looked to Emily and continued to cry.

"It will be over soon," soothed Emily.

When the last band was removed, the two Agents assisted Anissa off the board and handed her over to Paramedics.

-o-

In the darkened rear section of the jet, Emily phoned Jillian and was apologetic when her wife answered, "I'm sorry for calling so late honey."

"Don't be sorry because you wanted to talk to me sweetheart. How's the case going?"

"We just closed it out and are on the way home. Our UNSUB turned out to be a freak with smell issues. He was decapitated during a car chase and won't be hurting anyone again. We found his intended fifth victim just in time."

"Shit, you can tell me all about it when you visit."

"Aww, I'm not sure when that will be Jill."

"It's okay. Everything is fine as long as you and the Team are safe."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Can we talk?"

"Of course we can. I am wide awake and you can tell me all about the weirdo now."

Emily did just that and found comfort in her spouse's words and voice.

-o-

"Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it." Novelist Vladimir Nabokov.

Trudging up the stairs leading to her apartment, Emily was taken aback to find a long green box with a beige bow resting up against the door. Picking it up, she tucked it under her left arm and looked around. She opened the door and went inside. Holding the door open with her left boot, Emily placed her bag on the floor and the gift box on the hallway table. Closing the door, she then grabbed her gun from the holster pressed again her back and reset the beeping alarm. She'd taken a few steps down the hall when Reid called. She continued to search the apartment as she said, "Reid."

"Emily, you are not going to believe this."

"What is it?"

"The original version of "Solaris" is showing tonight at the theatre. Do you want to join me?"

Remembering her earlier conversation with Derek, Emily asked, "Did Morgan put you up to this?"

"Pardon?"

"Did Morgan get you to call me and keep an eye on me?"

"No and I doubt he would even know what "Solaris" is."

"So this is just a random call?"

"I wouldn't call it random. As you know, the original is in Russian and you and I and Jillian are the only ones that could really enjoy it and as your wife is at her parents with the twins, I just thought of asking you."

"Isn't the movie four hours long?"

"It is actually five and the best Sci-Fi meditation film of all time. Do you want to go?"

"Sorry Nerd Boy, I'm going to have to say no. It's kind of late and I planned on hanging out with Sergio."

"Oh, I didn't realise you had a friend over."

"I don't. Sergio is a kitten that decided to stay during a storm and make himself at home."

"I'm sure the kids will love him."

"I think so and thanks Spencer."

"What for?"

Moving into the main bedroom, Emily opened the safe and withdrew the envelope containing photos, paperwork and passports, "For being a good friend and for just being you."

"Thanks and I don't know how to be anyone else."

"And that's what I love about you," commented Emily while securing the safe.

"Okay, bye."

Returning to the hallway table, Emily tossed the satchel on it and opened the gift box. Under the tissue paper was a single stemmed lilac Freesia. Picking it up, Emily smells it and was drawn into an old memory of her kneeing in front of a flower bed consisting of lilac Freesia. A gardener approaches and they converse in French then suddenly, a white shirt and white trouser attired Emily stands. Suddenly, several black sedans pull up in front of her and she is taken into custody by Italian speaking men. She manages to demand to speak with Sean in English before being shoved into the rear passenger seat. The door closes on her as she looks up to an upper balcony where a similarly dressed Ian Doyle stands.

Realising the Freesia is a warning of Doyle's impeding arrival; Emily tosses the flower into the bin beside the table. Packing the envelope into her portfolio, Emily calls out for Sergio. He answers with a meow and appears at her feet. Leaning over, she scoops him up, collects her keys and bag and leaves the apartment.

-o-