Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story. It's my first one and I'm really looking forward to how it turns out. I will plan to post in two chapter intervals by the Sunday of each week. To rmpcmfan: Ian goes after Reid for a very specific purpose. It isn't simply because he's the youngest/ most vulnerable member, that would be too easy. It's not even because he's a soft target, guess you'll have to wait to see why. To Tannerrose5: I will do my best to make my reading more concise and I'm excited to see where this goes too! To ahowell1993: I can't wait for you to read more. To any other readers, thanks for reading and please review! Can't wait to hear what you all think.
Disclaimer: I do not and never will own Criminal Minds or its characters. They belong to CBS. This is for my and others enjoyment.
"Ahh," shrieks of high-pitched laughter exploded from the conference room and to the few agents finishing up case papers. No one flinched at the noise,they just assumed the BAU's most successful team was having yet another team bonding night. It was no surprise to any of their colleagues that the ties between Aaron Hotchner's team were more intimate than the professional relationships the other teams had. Maybe it was because more than three-quarters of the team was under the age of forty, or possibly because the team needed something solid in their lives to compensate for the horrors they dealt with each day. Either way, it was difficult to work on the same floor and not be jealous.
Any agent could tell a plethora of stories concerning the team and how their bond was stronger than most marriages: Agent Morgan's being framed for a murder committed by the man who sexually assaulted him when he was younger, Technical Analyst Garcia's close brush with death and their drive to protect her, Agent Rossi's unfinished business and the guilt they helped him move past, Agent Hotchner's brutal assault and the death of his wife at the hands of one of the most prolific and sadistic serial killers the agency had ever seen.
Dr. Reid's, well there were so many incidents involving Dr. Reid, each more complicated than the next, that could be summated as the team protecting their own. It had been a cutthroat battle between agencies, research laboratories, and universities when the young genius' name started appearing in journals and newspapers. The president himself had sat down with each of the heads of the alphabet agencies and leading laboratories, and made it explicitly clear that, while they were expected to bring him into their fold, none of them were allowed to approach him until his eighteenth birthday. "He's still a child," the president had said, "he needs time to mature and figure out what he wants in the world." So they had waited, and when that fateful October day arrived, Dr. Spencer Reid found himself bombarded with recruiters.
The young man, while awkward in most social circumstances and unaccustomed to multiple people wanting to speak with him, had dealt with the situation in an efficient and unique manner; by holding out a stack of cards, numbered one through twenty, and allowing each recruiter to pick one. He would go in chronological order and allot thirty minutes of his time to meet with each recruiter. In that thirty minutes the recruiters would throw everything they had at the precocious young man, hoping that what was written in his chicken-scratch notes would be enough to sway him towards accepting a position from them.
While the BAU was one of the most interested parties, the team head, Jason Gideon, had not been among those meeting with Dr. Reid on his birthday. Instead, he waited to fly out to Los Vegas two weeks after Spencer's birthday. The sight he found was one that surprised him, the young man had gone home for the weekend to help his schizophrenic mother move into Bennington Sanitarium, something no eighteen year old should ever have to do. If Agent Gideon had any doubts about adding the young man to his team, they were completely erased, Spencer moving his mother towards help indicated a compassionate and rational personality; traits necessary for a profiler. Waiting until the young man had finished helping his mother and taken a few minutes to recompose himself, Gideon approached and offered for him entrance into the BAU by the time he turned twenty-one. Four years after that offer, Dr. Spencer Reid found a home at the FBI BAU.
It's impossible to not like that kid, Rossi mused heading towards the conference room, he always puts everyone before himself. He and Seaver had just finished their game night and were about to head home when they heard the sounds of someone screaming. The two locked eyes and sprinted towards the conference room, guns drawn. "FBI!" Rossi shouted, "Aii Dio Mio! What the hell is going on?" The scene he'd burst in on was anything but what he'd expected. He had thought the scream had been of someone being assaulted or murdered, not of laughter; and especially not because Derek Morgan had dumped a huge bowl of popcorn all over Penelope Garcia. "Hey Rossi, Hey Seaver." Morgan muttered sheepishly. Garcia turned and her brown eyes widened at the sight of Rossi's unholstered glock. "Were you going to shoot us?" she asked, voice rising into a high octave.
"No!" Rossi retorted, "but maybe I should have. Maintenance is going to be pissed when they go to clean tonight." "Oh c'mon man, lighten up a bit! I think we deserve to have a little fun considering everything that's been going on." The older man sighed a little at this, it had not been a fun year. "It's not like we were exactly quiet while playing call of duty." Seaver teased, mischief sparkling in her eyes. Garcia's jaw dropped at this, "You, you," she stuttered, "You were playing Call of Duty and you didn't even think to invite me?" Rossi gave the flamboyant technical analyst a guilty grin, "You were busy." he said. Garcia's eyes narrowed, "Oh we are going to have some words about what is and isn't acceptable to disclude me from." she huffed. Morgan wrapped his burly arms around her, "Baby girl, be reasonable, we didn't invite them to our movie night."
"Or me for that matter." The stern voice of Section Chief Erin Strauss radiated from the doorway. Morgan immediately dropped his arms and straightened, "Ma'am," he said in the most respectful tone he could manage. The ice queen, as she was nicknamed among the sixth floor, glared at him and then at the three others. "You will spend however long it takes to clean this mess up and then go straight home." Both Seaver and Garcia assumed the portrayal of bobbleheads, nodding so quickly it seemed that their heads might fly off, while Rossi and Morgan grinned somewhat guilty at their unamused boss. Fixing them with a look that could melt titanium, she said, "And if I ever catch something like this again, I will personally ensure that you are used for target practice at the academy without protective equipment." As each member shuddered at the idea of overly-enthusiastic cadets armed with paintball guns, Strauss turned on her heel and stormed back to her office.
"Is it bad how much that woman scares me?" Seaver asked, grabbing a broom. "Not at all," Garcia replied, following her with the dustpan. "I've been here for seven years and I'm still scared of her." "I think the only person not afraid of her is Reid, and only because it's not logical." Morgan stated. "Where is the kid anyway?" The other three ceased their own activity and pondered the question. "I don't know," Rossi said, "I think this case might have hit him harder than he'd like to admit." "Why?" Garcia asked. "Baby girl, isn't it obvious?" "No, what's obvious?" "We all know that Reid's a bit out there, and I think all of us have suspected at one point or the other that he might have Asperger's." "I'd be more surprised if he didn't." Rossi said with a snort. "What?" he asked defensively, noticing Seaver's burning glare. "Nothing." she muttered. "It's obviously not," Morgan stated, "so you might as well just get it out there."
"Not only is it not our place to judge our colleague, but what gives any of us the right to label Reid as something he's not?" "How can you?" "I know," she said cutting off Morgan's interjection. "Reid profiles as an individual with Asperger's situation because of his lack of social skills, excessive talking, and inability to recognize sarcasm, but he's not." "How can you be so sure?" Garcia asked. "Because Spencer was tested as a child," Seaver shot back. "He was telling me about how they tested him when they found out about his IQ. His brain activity on the MRI showed no indications of any form of autism." "I didn't know." Garcia murmured, her cheeks coloring with shame. "How do you know this?" Rossi asked. Seaver's eyes turned cold, "Because I made the mistake of suggesting he had autism to his face." she snapped, "he was quick to set me straight." "When did this happen?" "Our first case, when we were going through files at the model home. I don't think I'll ever forget the look he gave me." "He never told me that." Morgan muttered "Why would he? He's already convinced you all judge him, doesn't matter whether it's true or not."
"Ashley." Rossi started, reaching for her arm. Seaver brushed him off, "I think we're done here. I'm going to head home." Without a glance back, she grabbed her bag and stomped to the elevator. "Ashley, Ashley!" Rossi, Morgan, and Garcia all hurried into the elevator. "Ashley." "What?" she snapped, pissed that she had to share the two minute ride down. "Obviously this isn't just about Reid." Her eyes narrowed, "Do not try to profile me." she said through gritted teeth. "Doesn't take a profiler to see how pissed you are honey." Garcia muttered.
Seaver glared at her, "Fine." she said exasperatedly. "It's not just about Reid. It's about me too. I mean, if you're all making these judgements about someone you like and respect, then I can only imagine what you must think of me." The elevator doors opened with a soft hiss, and she stepped out into the lobby. "But don't worry. It's not anything I haven't seen or heard before." Not wanting to have to deal with them any longer, she walked towards the far exit. It would take her out of her way, but at least she could be alone to her thoughts. As soon as she was outside the building and into the cold she heard footsteps and her teammates calling after her. Shit. She turned to give them all a piece of her mind, when another body collided with hers, protecting her from the exploding building they had all left moments ago.
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