A/n hey all, thank you all very much for your reviews and interest in this story. Here is the next chapter. I hope you like it.
See the first chapter for disclaimers and warnings.
The flight to Virginia the next morning was tedious. At least it was a private agency jet, which meant that I didn't have to sit next to a traveling paper goods salesman from Omaha, or a school teacher from Philadelphia that wanted to tell you their life story.
I slept for the entire flight as my night had been interrupted with dreams that seemed so real they scared me. I thought that I was past being afraid. The past is a crazy thing though, the tiniest little thing can set off a memory you thought was dead and buried.
(Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Let us pray for the soul of our departed …)
The voice of the pilot pulled me out of the sandman's embrace before another dream could hold me in its chains. She said we were about to land and that I would be met at the airport. My bag was under the seat and I pulled it out to go over my new identity. My first name was the same. I think it's easier to pull off a lie if you tell a little bit of truth, like grains of pepper mixed into a tasteless mush. My last name would be Lange. I picked it from Lana Lange of Superman. Yeah… not very original, but it was the best I could come up with at the time. The best part is that it's not an alias I've used before and therefore can't be traced back to me.
I met the agent, and the car that was waiting for me, and he took me into Arlington and to Dr. Spencer Reid's apartment building. I still don't know how they were able to get me into the apartment right about him. It's better for my health if I don't know how the agency does a lot of the things it does.
The apartment is sparsely furnished, except for the top of the line computer that has been set up to run on the agency's software, which is completely hacker proof. It will serve as my connection to the agency and its vast resources. I stored my gun in a locked box on the highest shelf in the closet. I can't carry it with me, which makes me very nervous. I can't risk anyone seeing it. It's not legally registered of course, and I can't be arrested for carrying a concealed weapon without a permit. Anyway, Dr. Reid is hardly a threat to me or the agency, so it doesn't matter.
The one bag I have with me is unpacked very quickly. The rest of my "uniform" for the job is to be bought with Agency funds. There is a clothing store near to where I'm going to live and I am able to finish that chore quickly. The agent that met me at the airport accompanies me during the trip, but then disappeared when I had finished. He has other business to attend to, and it won't do for anyone at the complex to see us together. I'm exhausted at the end of the day, and for the first time since I was handed the folder on Dr Reid and told that I would be bringing him into the fold, I'm able to sleep through the night.
--
I can't believe that three weeks have gone by since the Agency sent me to Virginia. I've spent every waking moment watching my target and getting to know his routine. I know him better than he knows himself now, but I still don't know the best way to insert myself into his life.
I got a call from Stanford today. He's not pleased with the time frame, but I convinced him that it's necessary to take things slowly and do this right. The target is too important to risk scaring off. If his superiors get wind of this, he'll disappear into protective custody and I'll never get a second chance.
My cover is perfect. I'm a college student at Georgetown University majoring in English Literature. I've gone to class everyday to make the professors, and other students used to my presence and to make it easier to blend in. My grades so far are good, not spectacular, but good enough to not get me noticed for slacking off.
I woke up this morning and saw the grey sky and the storm clouds, and realized that it was time to do my job. For some odd reason, I'm feeling very reluctant to get started with this job. I have to remind myself that this is just another job, that Spencer Reid is nothing to me on a personal level. I wish that I could believe that. I wish that I hadn't been studying him for so long before coming to DC. There is something in his eyes that pulls me to him.
Well… I'm not going to go there. I have an important job to do. I will do it and move on to the next one. Today is a busy day. He'll meet me for the first time. It's time to make everything I know about Dr. Spencer Reid work for me. I can only assuage my own conscience by realizing that national security is at stake. What happens to him when I'm done with my assignment doesn't matter!
I get dressed and I make sure to leave the building after Dr. Reid does. He still doesn't realize that I'm in the apartment right above him, or that I have hidden cameras in his apartment so he can be watched between cases.
It was hard to walk out the door. I went through all of my clothes and then I spent a very long time in front of the mirror wondering if I looked to old to be a student. Will Reid notice and will he believe me when I "bump" into him. The jeans I picked out to wear look to new. The black tee shirt looks to gothic and depressing. I decide to grab my denim jacket and converse shoes to see if that would help my nerves. The jacket is better with the tee shirt when I put it on and I'm confident that I'll be able to do my job.
I make sure that I turn off the monitor to the computer before I leave. I lock the door after grabbing my books for school. My next door neighbor is leaving at the same time and he tries to hit on me, even after I've told him directly that I'm not interested and to back off. What is it about men that they can't take no for an answer. I bet that Reid wouldn't treat a woman like that. Okay… I have to stop doing this! I can't compare my target to every man I meet.
I finally manage to ditch the pervert, and get out of the building and down the street to the Metro Station. Just like every morning he's in town, Reid is in the Starbucks for coffee. He is dashing out with a giant cup of his favorite beverage when I run down the sidewalk. He doesn't notice me just like always. I'm torn between impatience, and relief at this lack of attention to his surroundings. It's no wonder that Tobias Henkel was able to kidnap him. What FBI agent doesn't know how to sense someone watching them?
On the other hand, it makes my job easier. He won't suspect me and it will be easier to fool him.
I follow him to the train and nearly miss getting on because of the crowd. He doesn't realize that I'm standing just feet away from him. I don't know why the crowd never bothers him, but he seems to take it in stride, even the guy that bumped into him and almost knocked him to the ground. Reid apologized even thought it wasn't his fault.
The ride was the longest I've ever taken and when we got off the train I took the opportunity to bump into Reid. I said that taking so many weeks to prepare for this assignment was necessary, but after all the working, and the planning, and studying, I wasn't prepared to have those incredible eyes right in front of me looking down at me with their guilelessness. Oh God… what am I going to say!
"Oh… ah… I'm sorry." Reid started to stutter and flush red.
"Don't apologize, it's my fault." I assure him.
He nodded and would have passed on, but I stop him with a hand on his arm. "Hey… I've seen you before, do you work around here."
"Yeah… I work at Quantico." He was looking at me with marked suspicion and I re-evaluated his alertness.
"Really… are you an FBI agent." I tried to put as light a tone in my voice as I could. If I could convince him I was just "star struck" by a real live agent, it might be okay!
"Yeah… um… I really have to go." He pulled away, looking less suspicious and more harried. I know he hates to be late.
"Listen… I know this is really forward, and you don't know me, but I wondered if we could have coffee sometime." I was mentally crossing my fingers.
"Why…." He asked the suspicion had come back into his eyes.
"I know it's very odd… but I've seen you on the train a few times and it's taken me ages to work up the courage to talk to you." The tremor in my voice wasn't a put on. What if this all went wrong?
He stared me down for long minutes. I was thankful for my agency training that allowed me to endure the scrutiny without flinching. He looked very calculating and I was beginning to think that I had underestimated him.
Then the light changed in his eyes and his cheeks went pink again. "I want to go but…"
"Are you married?"
"What… no… of course not… It's just that it's hard for me to commit to a date. I'm a profiler and I might have to go out of town."
"Really… I think that's cool. Listen, why don't you take my number and call me tonight even if you're not in town. We'll work something out."
"Sure, that would be great."
He turned to leave and I had to stop him again. It was hard not to laugh. "Don't you want my number and my name?" "Oh yeah…" He blushed while I pulled a piece of paper and a pen from my bag, and wrote my number and name on it.
"I'm Amy Lange." I gave him the paper. His hand brushed mine and a curious shivering sensation ran up my spine. I could feel my face getting hot.
"Oh… I'm Reid. Ah… I mean my name is Spencer Reid."
"Well Spencer… It's good to meet you."
"Yeah… it was." He left after giving me a small wave and smile.
Contact with my target had been achieved. I was on my way to achieving my goal. So why did I feel like I was leading an innocent lamb to slaughter?