SPENCER POV

I pulled into the parking lot of the apartments I'd come to call home the last 13 years and carefully pulled the papers of our latest case from the Volvo. I closed the door and turned my attention to the papers in my hand.

Seven kills and the only similarity was the brand in an infinity sign on the back of the victims' necks and that they all had a lot of enemies, several in common. We were heading to New York in two days to look into the murder spree.

I pushed the door open to the front entrance and heard footsteps approaching, not quite in a run yet.

"Could you hold that for one second?" a voice asked and I turned to see a young woman trying to adjust two large boxes against a brick wall. She was about 5'7, an athletic figure, long red hair that fell over her shoulder in waves that fell to the middle of her back, and bright golden eyes.

"Of course. When did you move in?" I asked as I held the door for her.

"Today. Thank you." She nodded and gave a quick smile before heading up the stairs.

I laughed as I saw her trying to adjust the two large boxes as she walked up the stairs. "Let me help."

I grabbed the box on top and placed my file on top of it. "I'd say I've got it but…" she laughed lightly and I walked with her up the stairs and saw the door next to mine open.

"This is it." She sat the box down and I put the other in her doorway. She turned to me with a smile. "Thanks for the help. You probably just saved me a trip to the hospital."

"There's a better possibility that it would have broken your neck and possibly dislocated your shoulder considering that you were carrying a couple of items." I felt my eyes widen as the words left my mouth.

She laughed and said. "Then thank you for saving me from a trip to the morgue. Moving here would have been kind of pointless."

I nodded and looked around to see her apartment was empty except for the two boxes. "Where are the other boxes?"

She smiled and put her hands on her hips as she looked at the apartment. "This is it. I didn't have anything when I left home but a friend had these in her garage." She smiled as she pulled a copy of Romeo and Juliet from one of the boxes.

"Well I'll leave you to unpack." I said as I grabbed my case file off of the box I'd carried.

"Wait." She called and I turned around to see her pulling her hair behind her back into a pony tail. "Will I be seeing you around?"

I shrugged and said "I work a lot but I'm next door."

Her smile widened as she looked up from one of the boxes, revealing an air mattress, a pillow, a white sheet, and a blue blanket. "So that makes us neighbors."

"It was nice meeting you." I told her and turned to walk out the door.

"You're forgetting something." She stated, a light teasing note in her voice.

I turned to look at her confused. A smile rested on her lips and she rolled her eyes. "What's your name?"

I laughed this time. "Spencer Reid." I said holding out a hand to her.

She shook my hand and smiled. "Bexley Kirrier." I looked into her golden eyes and saw that they were full of warmth.

I looked down and noticed that I was still holding her hand. I cleared my throat and stuffed my hand in my pocket.

I turned and walked out her door and could hear the smallest sound of laughter from her apartment.

I unlocked my door and walked into my apartment, closing the door behind me. I sat the file on my desk and pulled out my cell phone.

Missed calls from Morgan, Garcia, and Hotch. I grabbed the case and walked back out the door and locked it again, quickly making my way down the stairs.

BEXLEY POV

I laughed lightly as I saw the annoyed expression on my new neighbors face. He was nice and I'd be lying if I said I was surprised. It seemed to be from his heart but I would have to wait and see. My father had taught me the hard way how people can deceive you.

Days when he hadn't had a drop to drink he'd be so kind and treat me like a human being and would send me to bed with new bruises. I was thankful though. Many people had it worse than I did and I knew this. I'd developed trust issues and was unable to relax but my father had never wanted me for anything more than a punching bag.

He couldn't stand to hit something that didn't feel pain and the rebelliousness in me would never allow him that satisfaction of seeing the pain on my face until I could take no more. As I grabbed my bruised ribs and let out small whimpers, my father would look down at me and smile, not in malice, but as if he was content.

I pushed the memories to the back of my mind and picked up the newspapers in the box that Spencer had carried in. He'd taken the heavier box, definitely. A stereo, a lamp that had to be pieced together, two sets of dishes, an alarm clock, some pots and pans, and a few books.

I pulled out the air mattress and the automatic air pump, took it to my small bedroom, plugged it into the wall, put the line into the mattress and turned it on. I sat down on the floor waiting for the air to fill up and looked at the newspaper, checking for a job again.

My grandmother on my father's side, the only relative I'd ever cared for, had left me ten thousand dollars in her will when she died. We'd arranged this when I was fourteen. She knew that I would be stuck with my father and my mother was never coming back. Last I'd heard she'd found a new boyfriend and had no guilty conscience about abandoning her six year old daughter at the time.

My grandmother had said that as soon as I was free and away from my father I could access the money but not until then. The will had stayed between me, her, and a lawyer who was a very trusted friend of hers.

I still felt pain in my heart from six years ago when she died. She was kind and spirited; I had her maiden name as my own last name. My parents had refused to name me after them, fearing the embarrassment that would come from it. She was the only person I ever knew loved me. Eleanor, the elderly woman who'd given me everything I now owned, reminded me a lot of her. Eleanor never had children or married and had told me to come around as often as I like. I would be sure to do well on that promise, when I wasn't working.

The Blast, or the music store, was the only thing I could find that didn't require a college education. I would need to check out the music selection of this town eventually anyway and working there would give me the chance to find out what was good. Not that I knew that. My father hated music and had never allowed it in the house.

Now was as good a time to learn as any. I leaned over and flipped off the air pump and fixed the mattress so the air wouldn't leak out, put the sheet, pillow, and blanket on the bed and pushed it into the corner of the bedroom.

I walked out of my bedroom, past the bathroom, the small kitchen, and living room. I got to my door and looked into my apartment once more before closing and locking the door.

My apartment. I laid my head against my door, a smile coming to my face as I thought the words. I was free and I wouldn't let anything change that again.