2nd February 2018

Garcia was flicking up more and more pictures of crime scenes and victims. It wasn't an obvious link, but someone had eventually seen it as more than just a teen suicide pact not spotted in time and called the FBI in hopes of some help. As usual, Garcia stood stiffly, making sure her eyes looked anywhere but in the direction of one of the many screen around the room.

"Knock, knock?" Came a voice from the open office door. The room turned to look at the intrusion.

"Miss Clarke?" Prentiss put down her tablet and altered her body language, welcoming their part time colleague.

"Sorry to interrupt," She didn't look all that sorry. Spencer knew that face, she was mad. "I'd like to be included in this case."

"I'm sorry, Miss Clarke," Prentiss started, looking a little awkward. "I'm not sure I see the need."

"I know the M.E." Sasha said with a tone of authority. "He's a piece of work and I can bet my life that there are far more victims than you know about."

"That's not unusual." Rossi tried to reason.

"Oh we'll already know that they are dead." Sasha nodded. "But he's weak, anyone can buy him off to write anything on the records." She started chucking files across the table. Spencer took the closest one to him. Opening it he saw the autopsy photographs of a young man. His face beaten and bruised. Cause of death was listed as 'Accidental/ RTA'. On closer inspection, Spencer could see a well sutured line on the man's neck. Likely the result of an argument with a blade of some description. He glanced over at the file Simmons held. A very clear suffocation had been listed as 'Sudden Unexpected Death Syndrome'.

"You can come." Prentiss was flicking between two files, her face a picture of disgust. "Wheels in twenty."

They'd been on the jet for the best part of an hour, all sitting in complete silence. Rossi and J.J. were reading. Prentiss was scrolling on her tablet, most likely through case files. Simmons and Alvez had headphones in. Lewis was jotting in her note book and Sasha was going over the files a forth time, her own notes on the autopsy reports on the table next to the open file.

"How did you know Dr Manning?" Prentiss broke the silence.

"I worked with his waste of space arse for 12 months when I first moved back to the states." Sasha didn't even look up. She just pulled out a body map and the images of the body in situ then began comparing the two. "He was a surgeon, but had his medical licence stripped and turned his hand to pathology instead. Part of the deal he made, I think."

"How did you know he was on this case?" Prentiss sat back, watching Sasha carefully.

"When I first started working here," Sasha still didn't look up. "I asked one of the techs to set up an alert." She switched pen colour to highlight something she'd noticed on the body map. "I wanted to be told if he was into anything stupid."

"This is teens being made to look like they've committed suicide though." J.J. was involved now too.

"I can confidently tell you that while each and every single one of those reports says they were suicides," Sasha finally looked up. "Not one of these kids tied those ropes." Spencer leaned over the aisle and took the file Sasha was currently looking at. "Corey Banks. Well known local pitcher. Well know local right handed pitcher." Sasha said pointedly. Spencer saw what she was talking about in the crime scene photo. That knot had been tied left handed. "Sophia Catterton, on paper looks like the most likely to have genuinely committed suicide-"

"Why?"

"Terminal cancer." Sasha barely missed a beat. "However, she barely had the strength to stand up." Spencer looked over the crime scene photo for that incident. Miss Sophia Catterton had moved furniture and climbed up a stool to hand herself from an exposed beam. The xrays in both files confirmed what Sasha was saying about the teens. Corey Banks had small indicators on his right hand and fore arm that suggested far greater use and a lower bone density on the left. Sophia Catterton's tumours were clear on the xray's as were the indicators of muscle wastage and small partially healed fractures that would have made walking painful, never mind moving a futon around the room.

Spencer looked up from the files. Prentiss was staring at him expectantly. She was trying to hide her intention - to ask Spencer if everything Sasha said was true - but she wasn't doing her best at it. He could understand her being wary. The team knew Sasha, but didn't really know her. She could have just been trying to get a week out of the lab, for all they knew.

"She's most likely right." Spencer nodded. "They weren't just told to kill themselves,"

"Someone was there to make sure they did." J.J. finished.

"I refuse to be spoken down to by a good for nothing whore!" Dr Manning slammed the door as he left, fuming about Sasha's arrival and her process of unpicking the best part of the last 12 months worth of case loads. It was looking more and more like she had been right, a few autopsy reports not lining up right and Garcia had unearthed a few suspicious looking deposits into Manning's bank account around the same times.

"Well that was a little uncalled for." J.J. murmured.

"Hm?" Sasha was barely paying Dr Manning's outburst any attention.

"The name calling."

"Oh, that." A small smile played on Sasha lips. "I guess it's true."

"What?" Spencer sat up properly now, turning his attention to their conversation and not the report in front of him.

"For 8 months," Sasha still hadn't looked up for her reports. "I was screwing my boss."

"Seriously?" J.J.'s face said it all.

"Seriously." Sasha finally looked up. Straight at J.J. and the pair burst out laughing.

Spencer hadn't known what to do with that information. He'd kept it together for the remainder of the case but on the plane he mind was reeling. He knew it was irrational to be concerned over a previous relationship that had likely been over for at the very least three years by now, but he couldn't help the bubbles of jealously in the pit of his stomach.

Had this man also seen how she would come apart with a whisper in her ear? Or felt her back arch so perfectly when you graze your hand over her soft belly? Or perhaps he'd also committed the euphoric sight of Sasha riding them both to climax, calling his name as she reached her high to his memory? Spencer had. He replayed those sights, sounds and feelings on a regular basis.

As soon as the plane landed, Spencer was out of his seat and onto the tarmac. He didn't look back as his name was called.

He'd been home for an hour. He'd showered and gotten himself into fresh lounge clothes with a mug of hot tea and a book. It was a poor distraction, but it was somewhat working. Until there was a knock on the door. That snapped him out of his delusion of normality. Spencer didn't move. his hand hovered over the open book, whose page he was about to turn. His eyes stayed on the same word, rereading it over and over. He could practically feel his heart slowly when he realised he'd also stopped breathing.

"Spencer," Sasha was behind the door. She banged again. "I know you're in there. I can see the lights."

Spencer sighed and put his book down, neatly sliding a bookmark into the pages before it closed. When he reached the door he hesitated, his hold hovering over the handle. Eventually, his palm closed and his wrist turned, opening the door to reveal Sasha's concerned face on the other side. Not that he could look at her. Whenever he did, he pictured his hands on her.

"Hi," He could hear the smile on her voice. "Would you please look at me?" It took effort, but he did. "What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" she smiled softly at him and reached out to take his hand. He resisted her for a moment, but Sasha wriggled her fine fingers into his palm and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Spencer reacted. He pulled her toward him with the hand she was holding and wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

"Tell me its over with 'him'" Spencer's voice was barely a whisper. He felt her shuffle in his arms and he held on tighter.

"It's been over for years," she sounded dejected but didn't hesitate with her response. "Long before I even left New York."

"What was it like?" Spencer's jaw was set and firm and this time, when Sasha moved away from his chest, he let her.

"Do you really want to know?" Her eyes searched his for the truth.

"No." Spencer shook his head. "I don't want to know, but part of me needs to." Sasha nodded slowly and led Spencer back towards the couch he'd been sitting on before.

"It was... It was good." Sasha didn't know how to go about this conversation. She decided on direct.

"Right." His eyes shot down to their still joined hands. He was considering letter go when Sasha's hand squeezed his again.

"Because it was sex. It's hard for consensual sex to be truly bad." She shrugged.

"But-"

"Spencer," Sasha's free hand found his cheek and forced him to look at her. "It was a means to an ends. We both worked too hard to ever find someone but are both still human. I approached him with the offer, before you think he was just some perv eyeing up the interns." Her thumb was softly rubbing his cheek in a soothing manner. "We never saw each other outside of work or booty calls, we never snuggled afterwards and we've never talk since. I don't miss him, I don't wish I could have him back because there was nothing to have back. He was just a very responsive sex toy to me."

"Did he know about..." Spencer nodded down, in the vague direction of Sasha's arms.

"Nope." She popped the 'p'. "Honestly, we never spoke about anything personal. If we had met outside of work it, we didn't talk - just got what we needed and left."

"Right, right," he nodded.

"Spence, is this going to happen every time someone brings up a previous relationship?" Sasha's voice was dripping with concern.

"No." He said quickly, then dropped his eyes away. "Maybe." Sasha chuckled. "I just couldn't stop thinking that maybe that was a thing for you, men you work with."

"Actually working in the same building as you is more of a nightmare than a thrill." Sasha let go of Spencer and sat back into the couch. Spencer followed her.

"Really?"

"Yep." She pulled him down on to her, letting him rest his head on her chest.