"Doc?" a voice called. Senior Deputy Doctor Reid, who was working in his office, looked to the doorway. "I called the Feds again for an update – they are on their way here. Too many are dead already. Apparently they agreed."

Reid nodded. "Good idea. Still no ID on the latest victim?"

"No," the sheriff Andrews sighed. "How is your leg?"

Reid shrugged. "Still in repair," he answered. He gestured towards the crutches. "But I'm getting around." Thinking for a moment, he continued, "BAU, I suspect?"

"The biased, arrogant unsubhunters, yes. Do you have any idea where they could stay? With that bloody conference going on everything is full. And sending them too far away or splitting them up wouldn't be useful." the sheriff finished with a snort.

Reid had to suppress a smile at the sheriff's description of the BAU. "Don't get angry on my behalf, Jace. And if they don't mind doubling up.. I do have a ridiculously large home."

The sheriff looked at him, apparently both enormously hopeful and somewhat disbelieving. "You'd do that?"

Reid's gaze sharpened. "Seven are dead, Sheriff. And anyway – he retired some years ago."

The sheriff gave an acknowledging nod. "Alright then. I'll let them know."

Reid smiled a little. "I was planning on calling their tech analyst anyway, shall I?"

The sheriff smiled and disappeared around the corner. Of course, he could ask why Reid was planning to call their tech analyst, but Reid was a man of few words, unless he was sprouting statistics or information. Otherwise, Reid tended to do things in his own roundabout way, meaning that he didn't always tell the sheriff when he was contacting someone or following up a lead, but he always told in the end, and never waited too long.

He took his phone and called FBI HQ. The secretary quickly connected him to the BAU's Tech Analyst, who was not flying out on this case.

"This is Penelope Garcia, Behavioral Analysis Unit." She sounded as though she wanted to say more.

"This is Deputy Reid, Henderson Police Department. I believe your team is on its way here."

"Yes, they are, my sweet. How can I help you?"

Bemused, Reid answered, "I am going to send you some information on a victim. Can you please try to get an ID? Besides the FBI's ability to do what LEO's can't, your.. information gathering skills are legendary at Caltech, so I would think you'd have more luck than we had."

"Yes, I am the Goddess of all knowledge." She sounded flattered. "Anything else?"

"All hotels in the neighborhood are full or nearly full, so your team is staying at my place," Reid replied. "I do have a ridiculously large home, although they will still have to double up."

"That's.. Not many people would have offered their home. Thank you, my sweet. I'll let them know."

Reid nodded, although Garcia wouldn't see that. During the conversation, he had already send Garcia an e-mail with the information on the victim. "We have seven bodies," he said, as though that provided all information – and it did. He was quiet for a moment. "I've send you the file."

Exchanging pleasantries and phone numbers, they concluded the conversation.

INSERT LINE

After they had arrived at the police station, Sheriff Andrews directed the BAU to the conference room that was set up for them. Reid was sitting in the conference room with his back to the table, staring at the evidence board. He was missing something, although he had no idea what it was.

When the BAU walked in, Reid turned his office chair so that he was sitting at the table. That was deliberate – it would save him some prejudice when they couldn't see his legs.

"Senior Deputy Doctor Reid," the sheriff introduced. Then he rattled off the names of the team members – SAC Hotchner, and agents Prentiss, Rossi, Morgan, Jareau and Saroy. Reid nodded.

"I was working this case originally – well, with assistance, because I'm not cleared for field work." He gestured towards his crutches. "At the moment, I'm trying to finish a geographical profile. If I might offer a suggestion – based purely on a geographical profile, either the fourth or the seventh victim appears to be literally out of place. Given the overkill on the fourth, I'd suggest that one is special," he shrugged. "And I think he might be a serial-turned-spree; given the fact that the last three victims were all killed in two days, and that the fifth and sixth were a double.. Well, you're the experts on that part."

Claude Saroy didn't like this guy. Obviously he had some superiority complex – a geographical profile, really? Those were impossible to make by hand. And his remarks about a serial-turned-spree.. Well, Mr. Much Titles wasn't a profiler, so that was obviously wrong.

Saroy was about to say something, but Hotch was quicker. "You can make a geographical profile?" He asked, both skeptical and impressed.

"I've done it a few times, yes," Reid shrugged. "Although it's not really useful for catching an unsub – we're not adept at applying them – it tells us where to increase patrols."

"I've never thought of applying one that way," Rossi murmured to Morgan. Apparently, neither had the rest of the team.

"Well, Deputy Doctor Reid, can you show us your notes, then? And am I right to assume that you are the person we're staying with?" Hotch continued.

Reid flashed him a quick smile. "That is right, yes, and of course." He handed Hotch a copy of the notes. "Let me know if you don't understand something. And most people call me Doc."

His phone rang. "Excuse me," Reid said to the team before turning around and answering the call. "Miss Garcia?"

After a few minutes, Reid finished the call. "Apparently Miss Garcia's reputation isn't unfounded – she has an ID on the seventh victim."

INSERT LINE

Apparently, Reid's geographical profile was detailed enough to warrant an explanation. Therefore Reid stayed in the conference room for some time, while Hotch directed some of the team to other tasks before listening to Reid's explanation. When he was about to get up and leave for his office, Saroy stopped him. "So you think you can get a spot on the team by making some guesses, kid? There's no way that's gonna happen."

Rossi, who was writing in his notebook, stopped and listened. The other people on the team apparently didn't notice.

Reid tensed, but stayed calm. "I'm quite happy with my job as it is, Agent Saroy. And I wasn't making guesses. They were inferences."

That appeared to anger Saroy even more – probably because he didn't know what the difference was between a guess and an inference. "Geographical profiling is guesswork, unless you use a computer, and then it is unreliable."

"It's an exact science," Reid countered. Then the sheriff appeared in the doorway. Reid turned his attention to him. "Andrews?" Reid inquired. The BAU immediately turned their attention towards the doorway.

"We have another body," Sheriff Andrews said wearily.

Reid stiffened. "Shit," he said under his breath. "You're sure it's the same guy?" Andrews nodded. "Do you have coordinates or a location?"

Andrews smiled tensely and handed him a paper. Reid looked at it for a moment and then turned his attention towards Rossi. The BAU team was just discussing how this information confirmed Reid's first guess – that this was a serial-turned-spree killer.

"Agent Rossi?" Reid asked when the conversation around him fell silent.

"Yeah, Doc?" Rossi replied.

"What are the effects of a serial killer devolving into a spree killer on a geographical profile? There wasn't anything about that in your books. Nor in any other book I've read, in fact."

Rossi hesitated. Given the rarity of correct geographical profiles, there wasn't any literature on that. After a few moment of inter-team discussion, Reid received the advice to start on a new profile focusing on the last four victims.

Then everyone but Agent Jareau left for the crime scene. Jareau was still looking at victimology. Reid turned back to the evidence board. Then he saw what he had missed earlier.

"Agent Jareau?" Reid asked.

"JJ," Agent Jareau – JJ – corrected. "What's up?"

Reid hesitated. "All victims have once broken their nose," he said. "That wasn't in the coroner's report."

JJ looked at the portrait photographs of the victims – photographs from driver's licenses etcetera. "Are you sure, Doc?"

Reid nodded and pointed at specific places at the noses of the victims, telling JJ how that meant the nose had been broken.

"Hmm, I wonder.." Reid took out his phone and dialed Garcia's number. "Miss Garcia? Can you check the victim's hospital records for broken noses? Can you also check employee records for a common factor? And whether or not they ever filed assault charges? Perhaps one of the victims – especially the fourth – has a file with CPS?" After telling Garcia that she should probably call her superior first if she found something, he ended the call.

JJ looked at Reid in shock "You know? That's exactly what the team would have done."

Reid shrugged. "If you have someone like Miss Garcia working alongside you, I can understand that." Reid smiled slightly. "You know that she has quite a reputation at Caltech?"

JJ looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah, a few friends of mine – professors – in Computer Science are always talking about her – information gathering skills."

Understanding that Reid really was just using a euphemism for hacking, JJ gave him a small smile. "I didn't know that." After spending a few moments in silence, she spoke again. "I think you'd be a good asset for our team. And I'm not the only one who thinks that."

Reid gave JJ an unidentifiable look. "I wouldn't pass the physical examinations," Reid gestured vaguely towards his crutches. He then abruptly returned to his files.

Understanding that she had touched a nerve, JJ left the issue alone. She couldn't help but be curious, though.

INSERT LINE

As it was, it appeared that two of the first four victims had filed assault reports. Re-interviewing the families of the other two victims, it appeared that the other two had not filed assault reports. They had been physically assaulted, however.

For no clear reason Reid stayed in the conference room instead of going to his office. It appeared that every time he wanted to get up and go to his office, he was somehow interrupted. After this had happened five or six times, Reid simply gave up and decided to get comfortable. Rossi apparently noticed this. "You have an unusual amount of insight for someone not from our unit. Ever thought of joining the Bureau?"

Reid groaned.

INSERT LINE

Take-away dinner was ordered at six o'clock. Dinner was interesting. Although half of the team – and Reid – were reading, considering or discussing case files, the atmosphere was noticeably more relaxed. Sheriff Andrews also joined them.

At some point, Prentiss spoke up. "Hey, Doc, what's up with the crutches anyway?"

Reid looked up from his case files and glanced at her. Absentmindedly, he replied, "Got shot last week."

Apparently not suspecting that answer, Prentiss was quiet for a moment. "Oh. How long do you have to use them?"

Reid gave a half-shrug, not looking up from his files. "I hope just until the day after tomorrow," he replied.

Sheriff Andrews was secretly amused. Reid hadn't lied, and likely wasn't even noticing that he was confusing Prentiss. Reid was absentminded like that, especially when he was thinking.

Then Garcia appeared on Morgan's laptop. "Hey, my loves. Is that Chinese?" she said, apparently referring to the food.

After receiving half-murmured replies, she spoke again. "Reid gave me something – the fourth victim has a record with CPS. Hotch, can you get a court order?"

Hotch gave a nod and left the room with a phone in his hand, presumably to call the judge.

After ten minutes or so, Hotch returned. "Alright. We'll have a court order tomorrow morning. For now, let's finish our profile." Turning to Reid and Andrews, Hotch continued, "Can you arrange for your officers to meet here tomorrow morning? Then we'll present the profile."

Andrews nodded. "Do you need us to leave?"

Hotch answered that they were free to leave if they had pressing matters to attend to, but that they might offer some insight. Reid didn't notice that Hotch focused solely onto him when he said that.

Then a lively discussion started between all facets of the unsub's MO, personality and psychology. At one point, Morgan was frustrated when not everyone seemed to agree with his view on the reason there were no witnesses. "What is the chance that there is no one there to witness a crime being committed anyway?"

Reid automatically responded. "There's a chance of sixty-two per cent witnesses don't realize they've seen something. Of the other 38 per cent, about half try to convince themselves they've seen or heard something because they feel guilty for not calling 911 immediately. And then there are those who may realize that they have seen or heard something, but they don't realize its significance and therefore, they don't come forward. So there is about a thirteen per cent change of a witness coming forward in this situation."

The room fell silent. Sheriff Andrews laughed a little. "Never ask the Doc a question when you don't want to know the answer."

"Yeah right, you make up some statistics and then everyone suddenly just commends you? Well, not me." Saroy scoffed.

Reid sighed. "Those statistics were not made up. I have degrees in mathematics and sociology. I simply combined the knowledge."

When Saroy was about to say something else, Hotch interfered. "Saroy, a word."

Hotch walked out of the office, Saroy defiantly striding after him.

For a few moments, there was an uncomfortable silence in the conference room. Then Rossi spoke up, easing the tension. "Those are pretty diverse fields to study."

Reid was grateful that someone said something, at least. "I originally wanted to study English Literature, but then I realized I had already read the material, so I decided to do something else."

Morgan spoke. "You already read everything by 18? That's.. Well. I haven't done that now and I'm a little older than that."

Reid gave him an uncomfortable look. "Yeah, something like that."

Before the silence could get uncomfortable again – well, there were the sounds of an argument between Saroy and Hotch outside the office, but that wasn't something they wanted to listen to – Prentiss spoke. "So, are we going through Vegas before we head back to Quantico? Do you think Hotch would allow us?"

Rossi snorted. "Hell yes. I'll have Garcia hack the plane computers if I have to. Reid, Andrews, you joining in?"

Reid snorted a little. "Depends on which casino you're going to. I'm –"

The door opened and Hotch walked in, a sullen Saroy behind him. Once they sat down, Reid spoke again.

"I'm sorry for any tension I might have caused, sir."

"You answered a question. There's nothing wrong with that." Hotch answered, shooting Saroy a warning look. "So, did you come up with anything else while we were out?"

It was nine p.m. before everyone agreed on the profile. They agreed that they would all reconvene at eight a.m. the following morning.

"Can I hitch a ride with one of you? Else I'd have to call a cab." Reid admitted.

"Of course you can," Hotch told him. "And I want to thank you again for opening your house to us."

Reid gave him a slightly uncomfortable look. "It's nothing, sir."

Then he began to pack his files in a leather messenger bag that was standing next to his seat. Prentiss suddenly realized that she had never actually seen Reid stand.

When everyone was ready to go, Prentiss handed Reid his crutches.

Then Reid stood, and she understood why Reid hadn't before. He probably wanted to avoid prejudice.

The only thing she could think was, "Oh."

The room fell silent and everyone stared at Reid. Then Prentiss broke the silence by saying, "How the hell did they let you out of the hospital already!" Reid gave her such a bewildered look that Sheriff Andrews began to snicker.

Saroy appeared the most shocked from all of them. "You're a cripple? We have to work with a cripple?" The last remark was full of disgust.

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, because Sheriff Andrews immediately stopped snickering. Within a second, he had grabbed Andrews by the collar and shoved him up the wall. Most of the BAU team didn't really know how to respond, because even if some of them had thought something similar, they had the sense not to say it. Just when someone was about to do something, Reid put his crutches in position and walked towards Andrews and Saroy – who appeared to be frightened out of his mind. "Jace," he said softly. "Let him go. This won't help."

After a few more moments, during which, Reid noted, Andrews' hold didn't lessen, Andrews spit in Saroy's face and then stormed out of the room. Reid considered Saroy for a moment, and then said softly, "Have you ever looked up the meaning of your first name? It's Hebrew, and its translation is 'lame'. Perhaps you should be careful with the insults you use."

Then Reid turned around, so that his back was turned fully towards Saroy – an insult if there ever was one – and walked out of the room to find his friend and superior, Jace Andrews.

INSERT LINE

When after a few minutes, in which Prentiss slapped Saroy full in the face – but not in Andrews' spit, thankfully – Reid or Andrews hadn't returned, Hotch told his team to stay where they were while he went looking for them.

He found Reid just outside the building, half-sitting on a low wall. Hotch considered the moves he could make – he could call Reid inside and pretend nothing happened, or he could go and stand next to Reid mimicking his position. He could also just stand at a considerable distance behind Reid, waiting for the other man to make the first move.

Hotch doubted the first tactic would work, it was more likely Reid would say he'd call a cab. The second option might seem intruding. So Hotch chose to walk closer to Reid, deliberately making some noise while he walked, but he stayed at the edge of Reid's vision. He waited for a few minutes before Reid spoke

"It hurts that to some all I'll ever be is a cripple." Reid spoke. He wasn't emotional or teary; it was just blunt and honest. After a minute of silence, Reid spoke again. "I applied for the Academy, and when they saw my track record, they made all sorts of exceptions for me. The age restriction was lifted, for example. Then this happened, and suddenly all those promises disappeared." Reid turned slightly towards Hotch. Instead of only being visible from the corner of Reid's eye (and then only if Reid would strain himself), Hotch was now just in Reid's field of vision. They were silent for another few minutes. "The stupid thing is that the only part of the physical requirements I wouldn't be able to meet would be the physical exam. The fitness test, even hand-to-hand wouldn't be a problem. But it's not possible anymore just because I am impaired." Reid turned fully towards Hotch now, although Reid didn't look at Hotch – his eyes were unfocused and staring over Hotch's left shoulder. "I don't blame the Academy or the Bureau. But I wished they hadn't promised me all those things."

Shaking his head slightly, Reid's eyes focused again. "Andrews went home." He was silent for a few seconds. "Thanks for listening."

Then Reid took his crutches and walked inside. After a moment, Hotch followed.

INSERT LINE

Needless to say, Reid and Saroy didn't ride in the same car. Reid rode with Hotch and JJ – Prentiss, Rossi, Morgan and Saroy rode together. Reid suspected Saroy would only get chewed out some more in the car, but couldn't really bring himself to care. Reid hadn't acknowledged Saroy since he had literally turned his back on the other man.

After a twenty minute ride they arrived at Reid's house – which was huge. JJ handed Reid his crutches before he stepped out of the car. Reid took the front steps to the door and used both a key and a security code. Then the door opened and Reid waved JJ and Hotch inside. In the meantime, the other car had arrived and the team members took their bags and walked towards the front door.

"Merlin, Doc, this house is huge!" Morgan exclaimed. Reid gave a small smile. They stood in the front hall. When everyone was inside, Reid locked the door.

Reid gave them a quick tour. There was a basement, which was set up as a gym. It had an oddly-shaped pool – it was about three by fifteen meters. Hotch realized that, when only one person used it, and just for exercise, you wouldn't need a larger pool, and it's shape was very effective. There was also a shower and a training room, which had a treadmill and things like that, but also a space to practice hand-to-hand combat. Hotch noted that Reid took the stairs effortlessly, which impressed him – whenever Hotch was on crutches, he was always breathing hard after taking the stairs. Reid informed everyone they were not to use the pool between four thirty and six, unless Reid had already finished his swim.

The first floor held a small entrance hall, a kitchen/dining room, a living room, a bathroom, a study and a bedroom. They obviously were not meant to enter the last two rooms.

The second floor held four bedrooms, a bathroom and a library. The library easily took up over a third of the space. Reid went to the bedroom door closest to the hallway and locked the door with a key in his pocket. That one was off limits, it appeared. "This is my bedroom, although I'm using the downstairs guestroom at the moment because I don't have a leg. You can pick one of the other three rooms, I don't really care which. Just don't make a mess. And you have to make the beds yourself – you can find linen in the closet. I'm going downstairs for coffee. Join me if you like."

They quickly doubled up – Hotch and Rossi, Morgan and Saroy, JJ and Prentiss – and disappeared into their rooms to leave their stuff and make the beds. The rooms were elegantly decorated, although sparsely. That did give them a very roomy feel, though. They all held a double bed (which at second glance turned out to be two single beds against each other), a closet large enough for two persons to use, and nightstands at each side of the bed. There was a desk with a chair, a chair next to the wardrobe and the windows had window seats.

Afterwards everyone went to the living room for coffee – Saroy was reluctant, but Morgan hadn't really given him a choice. In the living room, Reid was sitting in a recliner with a cup of coffee in one hand, a pen in his other and a paper pad in his lap. Everyone sat down. It was silent for a moment before Prentiss burst out, "How come you're already out of the hospital if you just lost your leg last week?"

Reid gave her a weird look. "I lost my leg eight years ago."

"But you said that you got shot last week.." Prentiss supplied.

"Oh, that. Yes, my replacement leg got shot, so now it's being repaired." Everyone looked at him incredulously. "You all thought I got an amputation last week? No wonder Andrews thought it was funny." He shook his head in amusement and turned back to his paper.

"What are you writing anyway?" Saroy asked snidely. Hotch shot him a glare and was about to open his mouth, but Reid just looked at Hotch and gave a tiny shake of his head. Hotch frowned. Reid hadn't acknowledged Saroy's existence ever since Saroy's mean comments at the station. Hotch sighed, hoping this wouldn't affect their job performance. The room, which had been filled with chatter, quieted down. Morgan broke the silence. "Mind if I put on the TV?"

Reid took the remote from his side, turned the TV on and threw Morgan the remote. "Don't turn the volume too loud. This is.." Reid peered at the TV. "Solaris."

"Solaris is on?" Prentiss turned towards the TV.

Reid nodded. "It is. It's the cut version, and they are showing it over two days."

Reid had turned back to his paper. When he looked up half a minute later, Prentiss was engrossed in the movie and the other team members – apparently not knowing a word Russian, judging by Morgan's frustrated expression – were chatting softly. "Wait," he said. "Agent Prentiss, you speak Russian?"

Prentiss looked up, suddenly somewhat uncomfortable. "Yeah, I do."

Reid smiled. "Should have expected that," he muttered. "I mean, judging by your age, you lived in Russian for a while."

The team was lost by now. "Excuse me?" Prentiss replied somewhat angrily.

Reid looked bewildered. "Ambassador Prentiss went to Russia for her job." The team apparently didn't think that was common knowledge, judging by their looks on their faces – except for Hotch, whose surprise had most likely to do with that Reid knew, and Saroy, which face only held contempt.. "I'm retiring for the night. My shift starts at six tomorrow." He made eye contact with Hotch and then moved his eyes to the door, as if silently asking Hotch to come.

About a minute of silence passed, in which Rossi, Prentiss and Morgan confirmed to another that they hadn't known that. Rossi also remarked that Reid was smart and Saroy said that Reid thought he knew everything.

Hotch sighed and left the room looking for Reid.

He found Reid in the kitchen. "Can we reconvene to my study?" Reid asked a little uncomfortably. Hotch nodded and followed Reid.

They sat down on the chairs in Reid's study. After a moment of silence, Reid spoke up. "I don't like Claude Saroy and thus I will not waste my time off replying to his insults. It doesn't matter whether or not I like Agent Saroy, because I have to work with him. Should he now knock on the door to discuss the case, I will happily discuss the case with him. I will acknowledge comments directly related to this case or other cases. Thus I do not think this will affect our job performance." He met Hotch's eyes. "I don't mind useful and honest insults, remarks or critique. But the remarks of your agent have so far been quite useless. And I will not stand to be insulted in my own home."

Hotch had to agree with Reid, but he didn't think Saroy would see it that way. "I understand, Doctor Reid." He was silent for a few seconds. "Was there anything else you wanted to speak to me about?"

Reid sighed. "Jace Andrews does not stand for insults about my physical limitations. He and I both are quite aware of my limitations. I will not perceive a simple remark or question about said limitations as an insult, and neither will he. But where I am likely to ignore insults, or remarks colored in disgust, he is likely to act on it." Reid looked as though he wanted to say more, but didn't.

Hotch wondered what the story behind the man's actions were, but refrained from asking. "Thank you for letting me know."

Reid nodded. "Should something come up, Sheriff Andrews has a key to this house. Call him if you find yourself locked outside. The doors have automatic locks so you don't have to lock them manually when you get out."

Reid concluded the conversation quickly after that and went to bed.

His alarm clock went off on four a.m. the next morning, so Reid dressed himself in a shirt and trousers – not even bothering with socks – to go to the basement. After thirty minutes of exercising and forty minutes of swimming, Reid took a shower, dressed – in work-appropriate clothes this time – and went to make breakfast. There was coffee brewing. Reid was ever so glad for the existence of pre-programmed coffee makers.

After packing his bag and eating a light breakfast – Reid preferred coffee to breakfast in the mornings, although rehab had given him lots of reasons why he shouldn't skip breakfast altogether – his cab arrived to take him to his work.

"Doc," the sheriff nodded when he came in (ten minutes after Reid). "Had a nice night?"

Reid considered the sheriff for a moment and then shot him a mock glare. "You could have told me everyone thought I was amputated only last week."

The sheriff gave a small smile. "I could have. Anything happen?"

Reid sighed, prompting the sheriff to sit down. The sheriff and Reid were good friends and had been for a number of years. "After you left, I talked to Agent Hotchner for a few minutes. I told him that I had once applied for the Academy, before this happened. Well, I didn't tell him all of it, obviously." Andrews nodded approvingly at that last part. "Then at my place we had coffee. I explained that I lost my leg years ago and not last week. Agent Saroy was acting out again, so I ignored him. Afterwards, I had another talk with Hotchner. I told him that my opinion of Claude Saroy wouldn't affect my job performance and that you have a spare key to my apartment. Don't give it to anyone but Agent Hotchner – or, if he's incapacitated, Agent Jareau."

The sheriff nodded but kept staring at Reid as if waiting for him to say more.

"Alright, I also told him that you will continue reacting to unprofessional remarks from Agent Saroy and any other member of the team."

The sheriff gave a small grin. It wasn't that Reid couldn't refuse talking if he kept silent; it was more that with all the years the two of them had been friends, Reid knew that Jace knew what Reid was omitting to tell. Jace knew that Reid knew. And thus there was no real necessity for Reid to keep omitting.

Reid used the same tactic often enough on Andrews.

Andrews nodded. "Agent Hotchner seems to be a reasonable man. What works against him is that he employed Agent Saroy, and that he hasn't fired him yet." The first part of the sentence had been said grudgingly.

Reid sighed. "It's not their fault, Jace. You know that."

Jace sighed, nodded and went back to his office.

INSERT LINE

At a quarter past eight, the BAU came in. Reid had finished his geographical profile and had brought it down to two possible versions. The first map was actually two profiles on one map: one from when the unsub was still a serial killer and one from when he had become a spree killer. The second profile was a combination from the two profiles on the first map, and it combined those two profiles. However, Reid had decided to make both maps because of the potential for mistakes in the second one.

At eight thirty, Hotch came into Reid's office. They discussed the geographical profile – to Reid's surprise, Hotch agreed with everything Reid had taken into consideration when constructing the geographical profile on the second map, and thus that was deemed the one they would go with – and then Hotch invited Reid to move towards the conference room. "I appreciate your insights," Hotch said.

Reid didn't really have a reason to refuse, and thus he stuffed his messenger bag with case files and moved towards the conference room.

At nine a.m., the BAU presented the profile. Hotch asked Reid to present the geographical part. Although all police officers were used to Reid's geographical profiles, most were surprised that the Feds were making use of them. Still, no one complained. Hotch noted that Reid received a lot of respect from his fellow officers. They did appear to be well aware of his physical limitations, he was, for example, offered a chair, but no one appeared to disrespect or insult him because of this. Hotch silently wondered whether this was a result of the sheriff's attitude or that it was because Reid had done something to gain that respect.

At ten fifteen, Reid received a phone call from the prosthesis firm to tell him that they had fixed his prosthesis. Given that the firm was in Henderson in a busy street where there was a lot of police patrol, Reid asked Sheriff Andrews to ask the next patrol car that was in the street to pick it up. Andrews complied, happy that Reid was about to get his leg back, and arranged it. Reid mused that he really had reason to be happy with Andrews as superior.

Just after eleven, Reid received his leg. Just as he was about to go to the changing room and put it on, sheriff Andrews came into Reid's office. "We've got another body."

Reid nodded. "Shit. Can you wait three minutes before leaving?" Reid gestured towards his leg.

"I'll be waiting in the car." Andrews spoke and left.

INSERT LINE

Reid walked towards the car slowly, getting used to having a leg again. The knee hadn't been fine-tuned yet. That was the main advantage of microprocessor controlled knees: the data and adjustments in the motions and motion speed of the knee could be installed on any knee just by using a sensor and a computer program. With mechanical knees, you had to use screw drivers and similar things to turn a screw another half a millimeter for the perfect adjustment. It would be a couple of weeks, at least, before it was anything near "perfect" again.

In the car with sheriff Andrews, Reid assembled his collapsible cane. That would give him his speed back to some level, at least. Meanwhile, sheriff Andrews briefed Reid on the body that had been found.

"I hope Garcia finds something useful in the CPS reports," Reid sighed.

Andrews nodded. That was about the best they could hope for.

The BAU was already present at the crime scene – minus agent Jareau, who was working on containing the press. After walking around the crime scene for a few minutes, agent Hotchner stopped Reid. "Good to see you walking. Do you see anything unusual?"

Reid thought for a second. "The nose hasn't been set and was likely broken post mortem. It could have broken months ago, of course, but that seems unlikely. The victim appears to be healthy and should have the money to take care of her health, so it's unlikely she never had her nose set. The post-mortem beating suggests escalation."

Hotchner looked thoughtful. "That's a good point. Garcia has gained access to the fourth victim's CPS report. It's abnormally large, so it will take another hour or so before she has something."

Reid nodded. "Thank you for keeping me informed."

Hotch nodded. He could have answered something about it being his job to keep Reid informed, but Reid already knew that. Thus it was more likely that Reid was glad Hotch didn't dismiss him because of his disability.

Reid went back to Andrews to brief him on the latest news.

INSERT LINE

Garcia had found the unsub. He had worked in a hospital as a social worker, where he had spoken to the fourth victim. Later he found work with CPS where he was part of the team that treated the fourth victim's case, although he wasn't personally responsible for that case.

The unsub's name was Brad Hubson. The only problem was that they didn't know where to find the unsub. Garcia couldn't find a paper trail.

So Reid once again adjusted his geographical profile to focus on areas that were important to Hubson. JJ contacted all law enforcement agencies in Nevada and released a photo of the man. She also released the photo to the media.

The rest of the day was hard work. Reid left at seven in the evening, promising to cook. The BAU stayed for another thirty minutes before calling it a day. Sheriff Andrews had already gone home.

At Reid's place, there was an enormous pan of spaghetti. During dinner, they chatted about work, mostly. Saroy still wasn't civil towards Reid and Reid still ignored Saroy. They hadn't really interacted at work, but there hadn't been any need to either.

After dinner, Reid announced he was going to the basement. After fifteen minutes, Morgan joined him.

What he saw enormously surprised him. Reid, who had previously been walking with a cane when outside, was making moves that Morgan never would have guessed a person with a leg prosthesis could do. Morgan stood at the side of the gym and watched. After a minute, Reid noticed him. "Hey, Agent Morgan."

"Morgan is fine. And that was absolutely wicked."

Reid gave a bitter smile. "I could probably pass most physical tests from the FBI. I'd fail the physical examination, though."

Morgan's eyebrows rose. "You're serious?"

Reid nodded. "Not at the moment – my knee isn't adjusted properly. That's why I'm using a cane when outside. But I could have done it two weeks ago, probably."

Morgan nodded. He still couldn't believe it, actually, but he did take in the words. "When will it be adjusted?"

Reid gave a small smile. "Looking for a spar?"

Morgan backed down. "No, kid, I don't think that would be wise."

Reid sighed. "I'm not breakable and I'm no kid. I would like to spar, though. I haven't in a long time. And it will give me some frame of reference for the adjustments."

Morgan realized Reid wouldn't let this go, and he thought he could probably spar a little. He would be careful, of course. He nodded. "Alright, then." And he went to the changing rooms.

Morgan noticed there were no mats on the floor of the gym. "No mats?" His eyebrows rose.

Reid shrugged. "No. With my prosthesis, I can't compensate all that well for the instability." Morgan nodded. "A word of warning – I don't do subtle. I either give you a bruise or I make a useless move."

Morgan nodded, thinking this kid had a big head.

That changed when they actually started sparring.

Reid's legwork had a lot of weak points, but the strength was amazing. If Reid swung his prosthesis leg forward in a certain way, there was quite an amount of force behind the foot, as Morgan quickly found out. It also reached quite an amazing height. So when Reid swung his leg in Morgan's face, Morgan tried to grab Reid's leg to parry the move and restrain Reid, but the force was just a little too much for that and Reid's shoe hit Morgan in the face. Reid's balance was also good. Morgan quickly realized he couldn't just push Reid to the floor – he would have to restrain him.

And after a few minutes, Morgan succeeded. However, by that time his nose was slightly bloody, his cheek was scraped (Reid had anti-slip soles underneath his shoes, Morgan noted, and they were rough).

After a shower both went to the living room. Reid was perfectly cheerful, Morgan was slightly humbled. In the living room the team members were just finishing coffee and tea. They looked up when Reid and Morgan came in. When Hotch noticed their appearance, he immediately stood, concerned. "What happened to you?" he directed to Morgan.

Morgan looked at loss about how to answer that. Luckily, Reid came to his help. "I asked Morgan to engage in a friendly spar with me. My leg isn't adjusted properly yet and I had to have some reference for the adjustments."

Hotch looked at Reid incredulously. "You defeated Morgan?"

Reid shook his head. "No, sir. He won, but I managed to score a few good hits."

Then Saroy, of course, couldn't help but speak up. "Hey Morgan, you shouldn't go easy on the cripple know-it-all. He doesn't deserve your mercy."

Everyone held their breath.

Then Reid walked towards his chair and sat down, while Hotch rounded on Saroy. "Kitchen. Now."

At that moment, Saroy realized he'd done something stupid. He followed Hotch meekly towards the kitchen.

After a moment of silence, Reid turned to Morgan. "Did you go easy on me? Because if you did, I'd really like to spar you again when my leg is adjusted and you're going full strength.

Morgan opened his mouth and closed it again. "I planned to go easy on you, but I expected you to be a lot worse than you were. So except for the first ten seconds, no, I didn't."

Reid smiled.

JJ opened her mouth. "Morgan usually doesn't have a scrape on him. How did you learn to do that?"

Reid looked uneasy. "Before I lost my leg, I was a bookworm, but I was quick. I could outrun bullies and other troublemakers. But when I lost my leg, I felt defenseless. I couldn't run, especially not in the beginning, so I started to work on balance and kicks. And I started to work on building muscles. After a while, I found a self-defense instructor, which eventually became more offensive." Reid shrugged. "Besides, I felt as though I had something to prove."

"How so?" Rossi inquired.

"I was going to attend the Academy – they had made an exception for the age requirement and some other things once they saw my curriculum vitae. When I informed the agent who had been orchestrating all that that I had lost my leg, he didn't even bother to call me back." Reid was silent for a few seconds. "Well, if the FBI thought I was helpless, I would show that I wasn't. It's not as though being able to defend yourself is an useless ability, so I didn't really care about the righteousness of my motivations."

Reid abruptly stood and walked towards the door, leaving a pondering BAU in his wake. In the hallway, he passed Hotch. Reid wondered how much he had heard. He nodded to Hotch, but didn't really pay him any attention.

Reid continued towards his study, where he sat down in a window seat and stared out of the window.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Reid replied.

Hotch stood in the doorway. "Agent Saroy is suspended pending an investigation of his conduct. Once in Quantico, I'm putting in a request for his transfer. His cab will arrive in twenty minutes to drive him to the airport."

Reid looked surprised. "I had not expected you to do that. Nevertheless, I am glad I don't have to be insulted in my own home anymore."

Hotch nodded. "Can I sit?"

Reid nodded and stood, walking to a normal chair instead of the window seat. He motioned for Hotch to take the other chair.

Hotch was silent for a moment. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is on your curriculum vitae that moved the FBI to make exceptions for your age?"

Reid gave a small smile. "When I applied for the FBI, I wasn't twenty-one yet, and I was working on my second BA and my third doctorate. Right now I have five doctorates – from Caltech, MIT and Yale – and I'm trying to finish my fourth BA. I have extensive knowledge in a lot of things. I can recite all Federal laws and most State laws, for example, although I don't have a JD."

Hotch was startled. "I can see why they wanted to have you," Hotch said after a moment. "And I don't see why they wouldn't want to employ you after your impairment. Not as a field agent, of course, but as a consultant. I'd be glad to have you in my team."

Reid looked intrigued. "Is that a job offer?"

Hotch was thrown aback. "I'm not at liberty to offer you a job. But I will check with my superiors if you want me to."

Reid thought for a moment. "I'd like to see the offer. However, I also want to attend the Academy. Even if I cannot graduate, I want to follow the courses." He eyed Hotch. "All courses, including hand-to-hand."

Hotch raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Morgan assists with hand-to-hand combat sometimes."

Reid gave a small smile.

A car honked outside. "That'd be the cab," Reid murmured. "I have no particular desire to wave your agent good-bye, so I will stay here."

Hotch nodded. "I should see him out." He stood.

Reid kept seated. "Will you return or will we finish our conversation another time?"

Hotch hesitated. "I will be back."

After ten minutes or so, Hotch returned. In the meantime, Reid had gone to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He was just adding a ridiculous amount of sugar when Hotch returned.

"Serve yourself," Reid gestured towards the pot once Hotch was sitting.

They sat in silent for a few moments. Then Hotch spoke up. "Which agent was your contact at the FBI?"

Reid shrugged. "Do you really want to know? He's retired."

"It could help me get through some red tape," Hotch answered

Reid nodded. "He was also from the BAU. His name is Jason Gideon." Hotch's expression darkened. "He is actually the reason why the sheriff doesn't like your unit. He left a lasting negative impression. Because he was representing your unit, the BAU itself lost quite some credit."

Hotch was glad he now knew the reason for the sheriff's behavior, at least.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about. Agent Gideon would sometimes call me when he wanted to know some obscure fact. I'm likely one of few persons who can tell you that the first written mention of cheesecakes is by Aegimus who wrote a book about the art of making cheesecakes. Cato the Elder also describes what may have been a cheesecake in a book called "De Agri Cultura". He calls it a placenta." Reid paused for a moment. "I can recite the recipe, if you'd like me to. Anyway, if Gideon wanted to know some obscure fact, reference or connection, he'd often call me."

Hotch's eyebrows rose three millimeters when Reid started on his angle. "You know a lot, then?"

Reid smiled. "You could say that. What I wanted to say, though, was that regardless of any job offer, I would be happy to help out in such situations. I enjoy the challenge."

Hotch's eyebrows rose another two millimeters. "I don't mean to sound insulting or dismiss you out of hand, but what would be the main advantage of asking you instead of looking it up on the internet?"

Reid's expression didn't falter. "As a human, my brain automatically catalogs information while a computer can only catalog references of information and not the information itself. Furthermore, when you look something up on the computer, you will often have to work through a few websites before you find the exact thing you want. I don't have that problem either."

"So, practically, what does that mean?" Hotch understood the general idea, but wanted a clear example.

"If you look up the word "placenta" on the internet, you will find separate websites for etymology, ritualistic use and properties. And while the cheesecake we were talking about earlier was called a placenta, it's unlikely you would find that. I can tell you about all those things. I can also tell you about Roman, Greek and Native American views and ritualistic uses of a placenta. You would likely need at least three separate websites for those last three only."

Hotch could see the man's point. "That would be useful."

Reid nodded. "I sometimes call tip lines when I notice a crime scene looks like a certain ritual, but most police stations either don't believe it's of any importance or they don't know how to use the knowledge. Others believe it's just chance. As a BAU, you wouldn't have those problems."

INSERT LINE

It was another three days before the case came to an end. Given that it was a Friday afternoon when they apprehended the unsub, Reid extended the offer to the BAU to stay for another few days. "Some of your agents wanted to visit Vegas," Reid argued. "And I enjoy your company." Reid and Sheriff Andrews had both given themselves the weekend off, by mutual persuasion – Andrews wanted Reid to take time off and Reid didn't think Andrews deserved it any less than he had, so he refused to stay home for the weekend unless Andrews did the same.

Eventually, Hotch agreed. Reid promptly called Garcia and told her that she could come if she wanted to. Garcia immediately booked a plane ticket.

Over the few days that had passed since Hotch's conversation with Reid, Hotch had been on the phone with Quantico. Transferring Saroy wasn't much of a problem, because Strauss didn't like him either – he gave the Bureau a bad reputation because he was often rude to locals. Getting her to hire Reid was more difficult. Hiring someone as a permanent consultant was unusual, but not unheard of. That the person had a disability didn't matter very much because he was still reasonably mobile.

But that Reid insisted on attending the Academy.. well, that complicated things. Attending academic courses was one thing, but the full program was harsh, even for students who were in a great shape physically.

It was eventually decided that Reid would attend a modified entry exam. If the examiners thought he could keep up with the class, he would be allowed to enter the Academy, although he couldn't graduate – at least not fully qualified.

Before this, though, Reid would have to go for a regular job interview with Chief Strauss.

When Morgan asked Reid if he was worried, Reid shrugged. "Not really. It's not as though I have anything to lose. And I'm overqualified, so that can't cause trouble. Mostly, I'm trying not to get my hopes up."

JJ entered the room. "I just got a message from Chief Strauss. You are allowed to fly with us back to Quantico, your interview is Tuesday at 9 AM. They are in a bit of a hurry because the new semester at the Academy starts in a month. There are two empty spots, one of which hasn't been filled yet, so there is room for you."

Reid looked a little bit shocked. "I think I have to talk to Andrews. How long will I have to take off?"

Rossi spoke. "If you have enough personal days left, I think you should put in your resignation and take the month of. Get settled in Quantico, or DC, or wherever you're going to live."

Prentiss fell in. "Or you can stay at my place. You won't need an apartment during your time at the Academy. It would save you some money."

Reid frowned. "I can't just leave here in three days and not return for half a year. I do have responsibilities here." He was silent for a moment. "Excuse me, I have to make some calls."

Reid went to his study, where he had a phone, and dialed the number of his mother's sanitarium. He asked Dr. Norman to inform him when his mother was having a good day, because he had to deliver some news to her. Then he called Sheriff Andrews.

"Jace? Can I stop by?" Reid asked.

"Doc, any problems?" Sheriff Andrews asked worriedly.

"No, there's just something I want to discuss with you." Reid replied.

They quickly concluded the conversation, agreeing that Reid would come over to Andrews' house.

Reid entered the kitchen, where JJ was making coffee. "Agent Jareau?" When she looked up, he continued. "I have to go out for a few hours. Regardless of when I'm back, I'm not cooking, so one of you has to cook or you can go out for dinner."

JJ smiled. "Of course."

"You have my phone number. Call me if there is a problem."

After exchanging good-byes, Reid left.

INSERT LINE

Jace Andrews was amazingly understanding of the situation and didn't resent Reid for pursuing another job. Really, Reid didn't come to his right at the Sheriff station.

When Andrews offered to check up on Reid's mother periodically, Reid could kiss him. Andrews had met Diana a few times before and thus he was a somewhat familiar face.

"When are you leaving?" Jace asked.

Reid winced. "I'm leaving Sunday evening with the BAU, then I have a job interview on Tuesday and if that goes well, entry exams possibly the same week. After they are finished, I'm returning here to arrange everything and tell my mother. The Academy is starting in a month, so I'm flying back before that."

Jace nodded. "You're not selling the house?"

Reid smiled. "After all the work I've done to make it as it is? Hell no. Besides, there is no reason I can't continue bringing Mom here for my annual leave."

On Reid's annual leave, he would bring his mother to this house for a few days. He'd also invite some of her friends. It was always carefully coordinated with her doctor and if things didn't go well, he would call Bennington to admit his mother again. But his mother visibly enjoyed it.

It was the sole reason why Reid had a house with four guestrooms.

They chatted for a while longer and had just decided to go out for dinner together when Reid was called. "Yes, Agent Jareau?"

"We were wondering if you are joining us for dinner?"

Reid looked at Andrews for a moment. "Is Sheriff Andrews invited?"

JJ conferred with her team before coming back to Reid, "Yes, he is."

"Time and place?"