Thank you so much for the response thus far! Lisa 1972: Emma's past is similar to Prentiss' and so will her journey but I've tweaked it so fans of criminal minds don't get bored. Cudos to nicolelovesdisney for beta-ing.

The foam mat wasn't entirely uncomfortable to land on. It was designed to subdue the impact of human bodies, providing a sort of buffer between a person's face and the hard floor of the gym. But, while soft enough to prevent the breakage of bones, the mat was firm enough to draw all the breath from Emma's lungs as she fell back onto it with a loud smack.

She groaned in irritation, pushing herself up on her elbows and narrowing her eyes at the man standing over her. His white singlet clung to his muscled chest, damp from exertion and his grey sweatpants had shimmied up his legs slightly. Killian smiled down at her with satisfaction; he knew better than to worry about her safety during these sessions. He'd only made that mistake once before, when they had initially been paired up by the bureau. And Emma, always one to take advantage of a situation, had bested him.

Though it was a source of amusement nowadays, it had been a significant blow to his pride and one of the first indicators that he shouldn't underestimate the Swan girl. He folded his arms across his chest, watching as she pushed herself up and immediately resumed a fighting stance.

"I've yet to regret my comments from last night, love," he chided as they began circling each other.

It wasn't a purely spontaneous statement either, he knew that if he could goad her on enough she would let her emotions override her cognitive function. It was his objective as he grinned provocatively. Fighting was a sort of dance, and one they did as practiced partners; each knowing the other's weaknesses and strengths. And hers was her so tightly bound emotions, though he had to be careful to dance the line between egging her on and damaging the fragile balance of their friendship.

Emma narrowed her eyes briefly before laughing lightly and nodding in understanding. She knew exactly what he was doing and said as much:

"I know what you're doing, Jones."

Killian shrugged unabashedly, "I can only try, Swan."

"Shouldn't you feel some shame that you can't beat me unless my mind is otherwise consumed?" she posed, raising an eyebrow challengingly. Killian stopped, letting his hands drop and watching her carefully. It wasn't often that she let her inner considerations slip, and so obliviously too.

"So you are distracted this morning," he said, just as Emma seized the opportunity and lunged. Taken by surprise, Killian took an extra moment to respond which was all she really needed. She tucked her foot behind his leg lithely and he tried to pivot away from her as she surged her weight forward. They struggled briefly but she pushed her advantage mercilessly and he finally fell backwards onto the mat. Killian tried to sit up but Emma was quickly straddling his abdomen, pinning down his arms with a forearm to his throat. She leaned down close to his chest so he couldn't use his legs to restrain her.

8888

In the stands that lined the gym, Henry was sitting with David and interrupted their conversation to draw attention to the two team members wrestling on the mat. Emma had just been thrown down for the third time that morning; something very uncharacteristic for her, especially when fighting Killian.

She stood up again, rolling her shoulders and pulling the strap of her singlet up from where it had dropped. She was quickly in position again; arms raised as she lightly began to mirror every move her partner made, like a jungle cat preparing to pounce.

"Isn't Killian worried about hurting her? Emma has a significantly smaller stature and is therefore more likely to be injured," Henry commented, genuine concern in his voice. He knew she was tough but surely Killian might hold back at least a little bit for fear of injuring her. The youngest member of their team felt a sort of brotherly protectiveness over her, though his display of such emotions was limited. David shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched the blonde throw down her partner in much the same way that he had earlier.

"You've clearly never fought Emma," David responded, slapping Henry on the back fondly.

The young man nodded and returned his gaze to his team member, appraising her with apparent newfound veneration as she kept the man beneath her pinned. They appeared to be talking amongst the fight and judging by her facial expression paired with the way she kept tensing when he talked, whatever their conversation concerned was touching some nerves for Emma. Henry turned away for a second as David got up to take a call.

When he turned back, their positions had flipped and Emma was breathing heavily under Killian, who continued their discussion with visibly more concern. There were only very few times when the eternally smug agent displayed genuine emotion and the fact that something about Emma was alarming him disconcerted Henry even further. David's voice drew the young man's attention from them as he walked back towards him.

"We have to go, new case in Illinois. Flight leaves in two hours," he said, moving quickly down the stairs of the stands and towards the two members of their team still struggling on the fighting mats. Henry quickly picked up his brown satchel and threw it over his shoulder as he followed their Unit Chief.

"Oi!" David called as he approached Emma and Killian, who both stopped their heated conversation to look up at him, "We have a case. Get your stuff – we're going to Illinois in two hours."

The two agents disengaged as David and Henry passed and exited the gym, though the latter had to stifle the desire to stay and find out what was going on.

8888

Killian wiggled his eyes suggestively at their new position, smirking even though her arm was making it uncomfortable for him to breathe. She growled and pressed slightly harder.

"What's got your thoughts elsewhere?" Killian gasped out, manoeuvring himself under her, though she clearly mistook it for an attempt to escape, tightening her grip on him.

"Nothing," she said with forced nonchalance and though she was the one with the in-built lie detector, he could see the untruth in her defence. Raising his eyebrows, Killian pushed his legs up, forcing her to duck her head down as he rolled them over so he was straddling her. She attempted to move but he had already pinned her arms down. Resigned that there was no way to escape until he moved, Emma chose to stare indignantly up at him.

"Liar," he finally replied.

"Leave it, Jones," she ordered, and Killian nearly stopped when he could swear he heard a hint of desperation in her tone. Nevertheless, she continued to glare up at him and wriggled around underneath him. Because of her thin stature, it made her significantly more agile in these sorts of situations. But Killian knew this and swiftly adjusted his position to continue her restraint, his expression sobering as he studied her.

"What's going on, Emma?" he asked, serious for once.

The blonde's breathing was deeper now, her energy obviously sapped as she fought his grip on her. For a fleeting moment, she brought herself up and out of his grip but Killian quickly grasped her arms to push her back down, his legs clasped around her hips to keep her stationary. He leaned down so she couldn't get a grip on his neck with her legs, and held her gaze.

"Nothing," Emma said, keeping her blue-grey eyes locked onto his. He opened his mouth to appeal again -

"Oi! We have a case. Get your stuff – we're going to Illinois in two hours," David interrupted as he passed by them, Henry trailing after him with a concerned glance at the two agents on the mat. Killian looked back at Emma once, meeting her eyes fleetingly before releasing his grip on her and standing up. The two members of their team exited the gym, leaving Killian and Emma alone in the huge room.

He offered his hand to help her up, which she glanced at and pointedly ignored. She pushed herself up, and her blonde hair had all but escaped its tie. They were both still breathing heavily, and the tension in the room seemed to have increased tenfold with the departure of Henry and David. She wiped some sweat absentmindedly from her brow and her expression was cold as it met his.

"Emma…" Killian said beseechingly, taking a step towards her. He realised that the careful line they danced along had been crossed, immersing him in the abyss of topics that were off-limits; namely, her personal life.

"I said leave it," Emma snapped mercilessly. Her words sliced through the air like a blade and Killian felt his thinly veiled patience break.

"Fine!" he barked back, anger consuming the prior apprehension he'd felt and simmering in his chest. She held his stare for a second and spun on her heel, snatching her bag from where it had lain beside the door and promptly leaving. The double doors banged open as she exited, swinging closed in her absence.

Killian shook his head and ran a hand through his damp black hair. Indignation boiled up inside him; why wouldn't she just tell him what was going on, because something obviously was. It could affect their job. He needed to be able to trust her – and he did – but it was a two-way street, and not one she had been very forthcoming with in their time as partners. He knew she was independent, but it was as though she believed every single person she met was going to screw her over if given the right opportunity.

Killian slammed his fist into the practice dummy to his left, taking a steadying breath as the plastic body swayed back and forth from the impact. Shaking his head in frustration, he grabbed his bag and left to prepare for their flight.

8888

As the plane began its ascent into the sky, Killian felt the familiar sensation of being thrust backwards – his ears popping every time he swallowed. He was seated in the back corner of the small plane, reading over the case file and making internal notes while he waited for the seatbelt light to turn off. David and Emma were talking in the booth diagonal from him and Henry was playing chess with Phillip at the opposite end of the plane. He turned back to the manila folder in his lap, though he did strain his ears to hear the conversation between his partner and the Unit Chief. Eavesdropping was not below him.

Eyes downcast, Killian couldn't see their expressions but he could hear the frown in Emma's voice, though it was clear she was trying to subdue her anger around her superior, "Everything will be fine, David. There's no major conflict, we just had a disagreement."

Lie Killian thought idly, lifting up the page he was blankly staring at.

David evidently also found this hard to believe, his tone taking on an incredulous edge, "Are you sure? It looked like it was getting pretty heated." Emma scoffed and Killian found himself smirking at the morbid notes that he wasn't actually reading. His eyes glossed unconsciously over the page and he waited for the discussion to continue. Eventually, the blonde sighed and he would bet his life savings she had been looking out the window. It was a habit of hers when they were travelling; if faced with something that troubled her mind, she would look out the window.

"It's fine. I'll talk to him," she said, obviously disgruntled.

"Thank you – you'll feel better if you do," David replied. As if the pilots had heard their conversation, the seat-belt light disappeared with a sharp ding. He could see from his peripheral vision as Emma stood up, glancing haphazardly at her superior before walking proudly towards him.

His smirk deepened as she flopped down into the caramel coloured leather seat opposite him, an exaggerated 'huff' escaping her mouth. She was silent for a moment, probably trying to think of the best approach to this with the least amount of damage to her dignity. After all, she wasn't the one in the wrong – that much Killian could freely admit to himself.

Truth be told, he'd been contemplating his approach to an apology. However, upon hearing her own admission that she would fix it between the two of them, he felt the need to hold back. He would apologise later, when there were less witnesses, and it was less tense.

"You were listening weren't you?" she suddenly said, no amusement in her tone.

Killian looked up, feigning hurt as he put a hand over his heart, "I'm wounded by your accusation, love."

She raised an eyebrow challengingly, "Unless you were smiling at the fact that four couples have been murdered?"

He nodded in defeat, "Touché – yes, I did happen to overhear your conversation," he admitted shamelessly. Emma didn't appear too surprised by the revelation and simply rolled her eyes with well-practiced reproach. Killian grinned endearingly in return, closing the folder and placing it on the table between them. He slid it towards her and she caught it deftly, opening it and putting it on her lap as she folded her thin legs elegantly under the table.

"Then you'll know," she said, all the while scanning through the files in front of her, "that I'm supposed to settle what happened this morning." Her blue-grey eyes flickered up to his azure ones, apparently testing the waters. Killian kept his gaze on her, watching as she divided her attention between him and the case presented before her.

After a moment of silence passed between them, he shrugged, "There's nothing to talk about." More silence passed between them and she kept her eyes on his, trying to get a read on his expression and apparently deciding the effort wasn't worth it. He looked down at the folder in her hands, "I think the more pressing matter is how four couples were able to be murdered before we were called in. That's eight people," Killian said, changing the subject. He wasn't really done with her reason for distraction – he would eventually trick it out of her – but for now, their focus needed to be on the case at hand.

She appeared grateful for the diversion, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned back into the chair.

"Your mathematics skills astound me," she quipped sarcastically before focussing her attention on the papers in front of her again. Eventually, her eyebrows drew together in a frown. Emma pursed her lips, pulling up the top sheet to look at the one underneath.

"Well, until the latest one, the authorities thought they were just car crashes and that the roads were in need of some upgrading. However, when the M.E found lacerations on the latest victims that couldn't have come from the crash, they looked closer at the past victims. Turns out, someone's been killing the couples and setting them up to look like car crash victims," she said, looking up at her partner.

He nodded, "So, what are we dealing with? A person who hates marriage?"

"Doesn't everyone?" Emma retorted.

"Not David – he's besotted with Mary Margaret," a young male voice interrupted in amusement.

Henry chose that moment to saunter up to them, satisfaction etched in his grin and, judging by the disappointment in Phillip's features, he had clearly won their chess match. The young man leaned on the wall beside Killian's chair and folded his arms across his chest as Phillip took a seat in the booth on the opposite side of the aisle next to Emma. Killian looked briefly towards their Unit Chief to see if he was going to join them, but he was engrossed in a phone call.

Henry chewed on his bottom lip, contemplating Killian's proposal about an anti-establishment murderer.

"Since the victims have thus far displayed signs of significant physical trauma resultant from being beaten with a large blunt object and the fact that the women were sexually assaulted, this is probably a sexual sadist," the young agent commented, pushing some of his hair behind his ears.

Emma put the folder down, finished reading through it, and ran a hand through her blonde hair.

"Judging by the amount of trauma the female counterparts suffered, I'd say he's a malignant misogynist," she suggested. Phillip shifted in his seat to face his team-members better, taking his reading glasses off and folding them lightly so he could hang them on the pocket of his dress shirt.

"Such hatred towards women would indicate a past traumatic experience – perhaps he previously suffered abuse at the hands of a woman?" Phillip added, putting his elbow on the table in front of him and leaning his head in his hand.

Henry shook his head, "That doesn't explain why he's also hurting the male counterparts. He clearly has some kind of motivation for attacking the husbands otherwise he would only be targeting women."

They fell silent in thought and Killian found his eyes absentmindedly on Emma, whose own gaze was directed out the window – as usual. He smirked just as David made an appearance next to the blonde, leaning on her chair and observing them all with quiet amusement. They were all deep in thought, something David had so eloquently compared to a scene from Scooby-Do in cases gone by.

"What have I missed?" he asked, drawing everyone's attention away from the mystery presented by the serial killers strange M.O.

"Who was that?" Killian replied with a nod and cheeky smile, referring to the Unit Chief's phone call.

David narrowed his eyes good-naturedly, "Mary Margaret. We were discussing our vow renewals that are coming up soon." Henry and Phillip's eyes both softened at the mention of the petite brunette and the fairytale-esque romance she shared with their boss. For two men, they were both saps – though Phillip's temperament could be contributed to his prior profession as a psychologist and Henry's to the naivety that came with his young age.

Emma and Killian shared an amused look, unaffected by the prospective 'cuteness' of their boss's love-life – though the Gods knew that as soon as Ruby caught wind, they would be swept up in the fiasco like it was the second coming of Christ.

"Anyway," David said, drawing out the last syllable to garner him their attention, "I was talking to the local Police Chief on the way to the airport and they need us to get a lid on this – fast. Apparently, the media are quickly catching on to the abnormal treatment of the 'car accidents' and it won't be soon before they break the story and finding the un-sub becomes twice as difficult."

"Should Phillip prepare a press release just in case they do find out before we catch him?" Emma suggested, gesturing to their media communications officer.

David considered it, "Maybe a general outline but we really need to catch this guy before that – eight people are dead." For a moment, Killian considered throwing Emma's quip about mathematics at his superior but thought the better of it when he realised that the man might take his comment the wrong way; he didn't want their Unit Chief to believe he thought what they were dealing with was a joke.

Apparently, only he and Emma could share such novelties around one another without personal opinions being damaged. At least, so long as they toed the very careful line in the sand that separated work from personal – a line Killian had foolishly crossed earlier that day and was still wary of as he kept an eye on Emma. He really would have to apologise to her for that, but later. She didn't appear all too concerned by his lack of apology thus far, maybe he had overreacted.

He turned that notion over in his head for a moment and quickly dismissed it – he hadn't overreacted, she had definitely been touchy about something and he had definitely pushed too far, too fast.

"So, I'm still waiting to be filled in about our ideas about the case?" David said, and Killian was forced to tune back into the conversation. Emma quickly relayed their ideas about a sexual sadist with qualities of a malignant misogynist, also pointing out that they hadn't yet identified why the un-sub might be attacking couples if he hated women so much.

David nodded thoughtfully, "Okay well, while we're trying to figure that out – when we touch down, I want you to call Ruby and see if she can identify past cases of animal abuse and compare them with past reports of assault – these victims are being strategically placed so this un-sub has thought about it and it's probably because he's gotten away with it before."

Killian nodded, raising his arm half-heartedly, "I'll call Ruby," he volunteered to which everyone rolled their eyes. The tech analyst and he had a strange relationship that no one really understood.

"Sure thing," David said, "in the meantime, get some rest – the next few days are going to be long and hard."

With that last note, he picked the manila file up off the table in front of Killian and headed to the back of the plane where he sat down and began to read through it. Henry sighed loudly, uncrossing his arms and standing away from the wall he had been leaning on.

"I'll be up the back."

"Sleeping?" Emma questioned in a tone akin to a suspicious mother.

Henry looked down guiltily, "Yes."

"Liar – you heard David, get some sleep," she said sternly. The young agent didn't reply but kept his eyes downcast as he shuffled to the back of the plane and took a seat in the booth next to David's. He looked like a puppy with its tail between its legs as he leaned back into the leather chair and closed his eyes.

Killian looked back at Emma with a raised eyebrow, "You sure you've never been married with kids?" he jibed, to which the blonde snickered sarcastically. She put her hands on the table and pushed herself up, leaning forward slightly to speak to Killian.

"I'm going to get some rest and make sure he does," she said, nodding to the back of the plane where Henry's eyes were now open.

"Dream of me, love," Killian replied. Emma rolled her eyes, sliding out of the booth and walking to the back where she sat opposite the youngest member of their team. The agent's expression deadpanned when Emma sat opposite him and their hushed voices only barely reached Killian – though he hadn't the effort to try and discern their words. Instead, he turned to Phillip who had been quietly staring out the window in much the same way Emma always did when deep in thought.

Killian chose not to interrupt him, leaning back into the seat and getting comfortable for the short trip to Illinois. He let his eyes drift close and, still exhausted from their take-down and the early-morning combat session, was almost immediately claimed by fatigue.

8888

Chicago reminded Killian of New York; the tall buildings looming over their convoy of black sedans as they drove towards the police district. It probably looked as if some foreign royals were making an appearance, but no, it was just their squadron of behavioural analysts ready to catch a serial killer.

The plane trip had been mostly quiet, after their group discussion nobody had really talked, everyone attempting to catch some shut-eye before the week ahead. It was a feeling Killian got in the depths of his bones that told him this case might take a couple of days. After all, the un-sub had escaped this long without even being noticed and probably still thought he was in the clear.

They had a window of opportunity, though a short one, to catch the guy before he relocated or changed his M.O. It was going to be a stressful week. Nevertheless, it was a part of the job – a part he'd adapted to quite swimmingly if he did say so himself. Although it did help to have a tech analyst whose gaudy clothing was only ever outdone by her bright personality. Killian pulled out his phone as they drove through the city, dialling the familiar number and waiting patiently for Ruby to answer.

The phone rung twice before her voice boomed through the receiver at what would be considered by others as an unusually high decibel, "Ruby's Lair of all things knowable and unknowable, how may I be of service?"

"Hey sweet cheeks," he replied with a grin, "Would it trouble you terribly to do me a favour?"

"If by trouble you mean excite, than yes… Wait, you aren't finally going to model naked for one of my drawing classes are you?"

Killian laughed, "No, as I've explained before, I don't trust people who model nude for others ever since I saw Titanic."

"You're still going on with that?" Ruby deadpanned.

"I'm sorry but Rose could have moved the hell over and let Jack survive too." Ruby sighed on the other end, and he recalled her reaction when he had first related his mistrust of the red-headed temptress from the most tragic film of all time. It had mostly been shock that he had even seen the movie, followed by disdain that he could declare such blasphemy.

In fact, the entire team had been surprised to hear that he – Killian Jones, the suave son of a bastard with the devil's charm – had watched a movie renowned for its status among the female population; especially since they'd never seen him in a long-term relationship.

Killian felt his heart constrict in his chest as memories of when he had been forced to watch Titanic swirled in his mind. He shut down his thoughts immediately, knowing better than to ponder over the life he'd led before the BAU.

"Any who, what is it you called me for beautiful?" Ruby asked, providing an amiable distraction from the ruminations tempting to burst forth from their restrains in his mind. Though significantly less jovial, he put on an insincere smile as he continued speaking.

"Would you mind checking if there were cases of past animal abuse and assault leading up to the murders in the general area of Chicago?"

She scoffed with mock incense, "Honey, I could do that in my sleep with one hand tied behind my back." He could hear as her ring-bedazzled fingers skittered across the keyboard in what would have been a flurry of movements.

"Done - anything else that might challenge me, hot-shot?" the tech analyst asked, lowering her voice in an attempt to sound sensual. Killian felt himself genuinely grin, their antics immediately lightening the dark cloud that had descended on him at the thought of his former life.

"You're bloody brilliant. Could you send those to us?" There was another brief moment where all he heard was the sound of her perfectly-manicured fingers commanding the computer to do her bidding and then her voice was once again in his ear.

"Your wish is my command – stay safe, be nice and shoot the bad guys," she said.

"Thank you again, Red." He grinned brilliantly as he hung up the phone and looked up to meet Emma's eyes in the rear-view mirror. She was staring at him. He raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Eavesdropping, love?" he asked.

"Don't act like you're above it, Jones," she retorted, reminding him of his own prying earlier that day, "Did she find anything?" He nodded appreciatively, both in agreement with her initial statement and confirmation of her latter question.

"Yeah, Ruby's sending over the files now for us to look at."

Emma nodded once, and let her eyes drift out the window. She didn't meet his gaze again, and he wouldn't deny that he thought it had something to do with the fact that they still felt marginally strange about that morning. It was unlike him to just drop something that he seemed so fervent about, and he wondered whether she actually believed that he'd given up.

They pulled into an underground garage and were escorted to an elevator where the team travelled up to the station. As the sliding doors opened, they entered into a large office area, overrun with men and women in police uniforms scrambling every which way, answering phones, filing papers, collecting printing. It was chaotic – incredibly dissimilar to their overly-organised home-base in Quantico. Though, that likely had something to do with the kid's obsession with perfection that neared on OCD. Killian often teased Henry about his over-active tendencies, but it was all done in good-spirits.

David was at the front of their group, quickly recognised by a petite redhead in the far corner of the room who shuffled towards them and smiled warmly at him. She extended her hand, eyes scanning over the team with what looked like relief.

"I'm Sally Nicholls, the Police Chief – thank you so much for coming," she said, shaking David's hand firmly as if it was a representation of her immense gratitude.

"It's no problem. I'm David Nolan, the Unit Chief," he introduced himself and, letting go of the woman's hand, indicated to the team one at a time, "That's Dr Henry Simmons, Agent Perrault, Agent Jones and Agent Swan." Killian had long wondered why the man always introduced the youngest member of their team with his title (gained through many complicated and well-earned bachelor's degrees), and had been informed a short time ago that it was to establish him as an equal. Due to his young age, Henry was often seen as inferior and inexperienced – two things he was definitively not. So, to institute a sense of maturity, David would also use the kid's title. It was strange how the world worked. Clearly the world didn't know that the kid had an eidetic memory and could read faster than Killian could run.

"It's nice to meet you all," Sally said, her eyes lingering on Killian longer than he thought was necessary. He relished in the attention though, glancing automatically at his partner to gage her reaction. She rolled her eyes, muttering something about him being incorrigible and his grin only broadened. He leaned closer to her so he was facing away from their team and his breath heated the spot below Emma's ear.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, love," he murmured conspiratorially, turning back to face the Chicago Police Chief with a bright smile. Emma scoffed at his insinuation and moved closer to David, waiting for him to establish their next moves now that they had finally arrived.

"We've got a room ready for you," Sally said, motioning for them to follow her. She led them through the office to a room which, upon entry, turned out to be quite an elaborate set-up. There was a white-board on the left side of the room with what appeared to be information about the un-sub, next to it was a transparent version of the board with information about each of the couples. There was a cork board on the right side of the room where photos from each of the scenes along with the medical examiner's reports had been pinned.

In the centre of the brightly lit room was a round table with black leather-backed chairs around it and a conference phone in the centre. Killian nodded in approval as Emma pursed her lips in admiration, it was quite impressive. Sally seemed to be chuffed too, watching each of the analysts carefully, probably to memorize their reactions and recall it whenever she felt self-conscious – because then she could remind herself; she had once impressed the nation's top Behavioural Analysis Unit with her spiffy interior design. Bravo.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the team waited for her to leave the room, not out of rudeness but simply because they were used to going about their own thing. Having someone foreign watching as they pieced together ideas about the case would be… not exactly comfortable.

Sally seemed to register their eyes on her and bowed her head reverently, "I'll leave you to it then, let me know when you're ready to give us a profile," she said. Killian was still baffled by her awed perceptions of them; it wasn't as if they were famous, they were just the guys who people called in to catch particularly cunning serial killers.

Nevertheless, it was a grateful change from the egotistical imbeciles who were all but forced to call them in after more than a few unsolved murders. Killian had always despised them, they tended to get in the way more often than provide assistance. Their behaviour often bordered on narcissism.

Henry made himself at home in front of the information about the couples as Phillip sat down to begin drawing an outline to a press release. David and Emma both walked over to the pin board to examine the gruesome photos from the crashes as Killian walked over to the white-board, picked up the marker and began writing out the characteristics they had discussed on the plane.

He let his cerulean gaze drift over the scrawl of his handwriting, occasionally adding notes and possible theories. When he finally stepped back to look at his handiwork, he noticed that Henry was sitting on the edge of the table staring at the mind-map of the serial killer, apparently no longer consumed by the information about the couples.

"Could the un-sub be working with a partner who has a need to maim the men?" Henry suggested, pointing at the concepts on the board that didn't seem to match up with the perpetrator's modus operandi. Killian shrugged.

"Perhaps, but usually with two people there's a dominant and submissive and looking at the bodies I wouldn't pick either as submissive if there were two," he responded, cocking his head to the side in a vain attempt to get a fresh view of their clues. Henry chewed on his bottom lip as his eyes pierced into the board, the clogs in his head almost audibly whizzing around.

Killian could feel a headache coming on like it was the tide of the beach coming in, slowly creeping its way into the nerves of his brain and setting them aflame. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying to quell the internal maelstrom rocking the inside of his head. With a deep breath, he stood up and tried to focus on something else, anything else.

"Headache?" Henry asked as Killian moved away from the table.

"Yep," he answered. He walked around the table to the opposite side of the room where he decided to join in on the conversation between Emma and David. They were still looking at the pin-board with the gruesome images from the 'car-accidents'.

"Have the families been contacted?" Emma asked, her eyes landing on an image of one of the women who had been slaughtered: her body mangled beside her dead husband's.

David nodded, "Yes, thankfully only one of the couples had kids. One was a pair of newlyweds, another was infertile but looking at adoption and the last ones were trying to salvage their marriage from what I've been told."

"Have they spoken to the parents of the couples?" Killian interjected, feeling Emma's and David's eyes turn to him.

"Briefly," he replied, "I think we'll have to call them in."

Henry's voice could be heard across the small room as he threw over his shoulder, "So far there's no connection between the couples other than they were all on road trips."

"We'll have to call the parents in – see if they had their itinerary," Emma confirmed with an exasperated sigh.

David turned to the blonde who was now staring over the Unit Chief's shoulder with a look that combined irritation with fatigue, "Can you organise to meet the families?"

"They're all from different states," Henry called over his shoulder again – boy had the hearing of a bat. Emma raised her eyebrows questioningly at David, silently asking what he expected her to do with that information in mind. Killian also turned his eyes to the blonde man, sharing her curiosity. David mirrored their expression though his held a momentous underpinning of condescension.

"You're supposed to be part of the modern generation – use technology. We only need to speak to them," he said. The blonde rolled her eyes, walking out of the room and Killian followed her. When she noticed him following her, she raised an elegant eyebrow.

"You aren't devolving into one of those agents who follow their superiors around like puppies are you?"

He frowned, "Since when were you my superior? I joined the team first, darling."

Emma shrugged, "I reckon I'm higher up the rank than you," she admitted haughtily. Killian watched her with what he hoped she registered as scepticism as they stopped in the middle of the room and waited for the red-headed police chief to find them. She turned to face him completely, raising her chin defiantly with her own thin smirk.

"Please, I'm second in command to David," Killian declared with a nod back to their headquarters.

"He likes me better," she countered and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't deny that. David had possessed a special kinship with Emma ever since she joined their team – though not in the way many people seemed to misconstrue. It was more like a fatherly affection, minus the paternal links.

"Regina likes me better," he finally retorted, satisfaction oozing from his stance as Emma's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. The blonde never had gotten along with the Section Chief of the Behavioural Analysis Unit. The blunt, generally antagonistic woman who ran their unit possessed many controversial beliefs, many of which happened to contrast starkly with Killian's partners. As a result, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence to see the two women in heated conversations in the halls of their Quantico base.

"David isn't controlled by Regina," Emma hissed as she and Killian noticed the red-headed police chief striding towards her, an eager grin on her round face.

"Need some help?" she asked pleasantly, interrupting their conversation.

Emma smiled tightly back – she never had possessed an affinity for such open naïve people (especially ones who found it in them to work in the disciplinary field). Killian never understood it, but he tolerated it since it was amusing to watch her attempts at being civil around people who clearly irritated her.

"Have you got the contact details for the parents of the victims?" Emma asked.

"Of course, do you need to speak with them?"

"Yes, we just have some questions for them," Killian replied with a charming grin. Sally faltered for a second as her eyes landed on his lips and he had to subdue the urge to look at Emma with a smug smirk.

"W-wait right here, I'll be back in a moment," the woman finally stuttered out, walking briskly towards the other end of the office. The second she left, Killian and Emma turned back to face each other.

"Regina may give him a long leash but the second she pulls it, David will heel like a golden retriever," he said without a hint of animosity, returning to the subject of their previous discussion. However, despite the lack of actually spite in his tone, ice began to seep into Emma's stormy gaze.

"David is twice the person Regina is," she growled under her breath.

"Never said he wasn't."

Sally returned with a piece of paper and smiled brightly as she handed it to Emma.

"Here you go – in alphabetical order," she said, clearly impressed with herself, as the blonde took the list from her grip with forced calm, but he imagined she wanted to snatch it from the petite woman's delicate hand.

"Thanks." Emma forced herself to smile again before spinning on her heel and striding back to their office. Killian sighed dramatically, nodding in gratitude to the small woman and following the path his blonde partner had forged in the frenzied office.

When he finally caught up with her, just before they reached the door, he spoke in her ear over her shoulder, "No need to be snippy darling, I wasn't trying to emasculate David." But she ignored him, opening the door and making a beeline for the man in mention who was still consumed by the corkboard on the right side of the room.

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