Can you believe that only three months ago, I'd never even heard of Criminal Minds, then I happened to watch one episode (The one where Ellie runs away from LA or something), and only two days later - Sky Living began airing them, two or three a day, in order from the very beginning, and I fell irrevocably in love with the program.

Slightly longer chapter, this one. Hope you enjoy.


"I'm not profiling you, and just want to know why this case hit you harder than any of the other child cases we've had. What was it about this case that hurt you so much?"

He opened his mouth to speak, already to turn back into his house and shut the door on her until the next time he was needed in work, when a voice, far too young and high to be his, spoke.

"Dadddyyyy!"


She looked no more than ten years old, if that, with shoulder length straight red hair that came just past her shoulders, green eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her clothes were simple, a pair of dark blue jeans and a green top that matched her eyes, with the words "Without me, it's just aweso" sprawled in a deep pink across the front – and there was something about her that was almost familiar ... Melody Williams.

She could be mistaken for her twin.

Suddenly Reid's behaviour made sense to Emily, every time he had had to look at those photos of the dead little girls; he had seen his own little girl.

"Daddy, you left. I was ..." The small girl started scold her father, the same way she heard her mother do so often, when she caught sight of Emily.

She shut up quickly as a red flush covered her face as her mouth became "O" shaped.

Reid smiled slightly, "Now, you shut up." The small girl hit the back of her father's legs with the back of her hand as she hid behind him.

"Daddy," she whispered, her voice barely audible, peeking her head out from behind him slightly to stare at Emily, "there's a lady."

Reid held back a smile at his daughter's antics. "This is Emily; she works at the FBI with me."

"Oh," she whispered again, her voice barely louder than a faint wind. "Hi, miss Emily," she muttered, a little louder, but not quite catching her eyes.

Emily crouched down slightly to her level. "It's just Emily, not miss Emily. What's your name?"

"Lissa, Just Emily," she replied louder still but still far quieter than she had been, the red blush starting to reduce back to her natural pale skin tone, with a grin forming on her face.

Emily shook her head slowly, straightening up and facing Reid, with an eyebrow arched. "Lissa?" she questioned.

"Melissa Jane Turner-Reid." Spencer clarified. "and as for your new nickname, she's never going to let you forget it."

"Are you going to come in the house, Just Emily?" The small girl asked her, her voice almost back to its usual volume, as she reached out her hand to grab the elder woman's, dragging her into the home before she even had a chance to answer.

Pulling her through the front hallway, Melissa stopped by a photo on the wall, with a beautiful frosted glass vase filled with white and purple flowers in front of it – the photo showed a group of girls with ages ranged from about three to thirteen.

"Do you like the flowers?" She asked, shy and slightly fidgety once again.

"They're beautiful," Emily answered honestly, touching one of the flowers delicately.

"I helped mummy pick them out." She told Emily matter of factly. "Do you know a lot about flowers - because I do. The one you're touching is called Purple Statice, or 'Limonium Aureum'. Then this one's Purple Hyacinth and that's White Hyacinth, but they're both also known as 'Hyacinthus Orientalis'. I think. And this last one is Blue Lilac, or in Latin 'Syringa Vulgaris'. Did you know that using giving specific flowers certain meaning, or Floriography, has been found as far back as the Ancient Romans and Gre..."

"Why don't you go and see if your mum needs help in the kitchen Lissa." Reid interrupted before the small girl started going too in depth about the flowers. She blushed and disappeared around the corner, presumably to find her mother.

Emily turned to the younger genius and smiled a bit tightly. "Well, there's no doubt she's your daughter." There was a short pause that neither of them felt inclined to break. "Why... why didn't you tell anyone?" Emily broke first. "That you have a daughter, I mean." Her tone belied her confusion as to why he didn't trust them.

Reid frowned slightly, thinking. "At first, it was because I needed to separate home and work as much as possible, pretending my family didn't exist at work, and pretending work didn't exist at home. And now ... I don't know how to tell anyone. How could I tell anyone – just walk into work one day and say 'Did I mention I have a wife and a nine year old daughter?'. I don't imagine that going down too well with any of them."

"Wife?" She shook her head as to rid it of an annoying noise, "Does anyone know then? Anyone at the FBI, I mean?"

"You know," he replied quickly, "and Gideon ... Gideon knew. He met them once, when Lissa was just a few months old, and I was starting the Academy." It was still hard for him to mention his old mentor, his almost-father. "No one else knows, because no one else thought it could ever be. I'm the last person anyone would pin as a father, as a husband." His voice trailed off, and they just stood in silence once again.

It was a new voice that broke it the second time. "You gonna come into the actual house? I don't pay to heat the entire street." The woman's voice was soft, and there was a smile in her words despite what could be implied as harsh words – and shifting her gaze from Reid, Emily found herself looking at an elder version of Melissa, albeit with wavier hair than her daughter's, which reached her mid-back, and her eyes were a clear blue as opposed to Lissa's green, or Reid's hazel brown. She wore a pale blue knee-length dress, with a creamy white cloth apron over the top, with the words "No one eats until this comes off" written in pink across the top, and number of stains in varying shades of brown across the lower half.

She held out a hand for Emily to shake, and started talking, "Judging by your hair colour, I'm going to guess that you're Emily. I'm Rosalind, but I prefer Rosie. The only person who calls me Rosalind is him," she jerked her head at Spencer, "and that's only when I've done something stupid."

"Like burn the house down?" Reid inputted.

Rosie glared at him, "That was one time – and it was an accident. You promised never to bring it up again. And that was like three bringings up ago."

"Your accent..." Questioned Emily, in regards to Rosie's almost sing-song voice.

"Oh, Welsh – strange, I know – I only lived there for seven years, and here for twenty two, but it seems I like the Welsh voice better, so I kept it."

Another question was on Emily's lips when a sharp yap suddenly came from up the stairs, and startled Rosie into jumping slightly. "She does that at least seven times an hour. How can it still startle you?" Reid asked with a chuckle.

"I'm special." She replied firmly, "Now you need to feed Megathy or I won't feed you."

Rosie smiled as Spencer disappeared, "Megathy?" Emily questioned, amused at the name.

Rosie grimaced. "Word to the wise, never let a seven year old name anything living. She's our two year old tri-colour Border Collie, almost as insane as me."

The red headed woman glanced through the window in the front door to Emily's car outside, "Have you eaten yet this evening, because I've made about twice the amount I need to."

"No, it's okay. I don't want to impose."

"You won't be imposing. Besides it's fun to watch Spencer get all flustered after asking him awkward questions such as, 'Why didn't you tell anybody you had a kid?'. Anyway, I think you're Lissa's new best friend, so you can't leave now."

"He's different here." Emily remarked quietly as Rosie led the way the kitchen dining room.

"Who is? Spencer?"

"Yeah, he's older, yet younger at the same time. And he seems happier."

"I think that might have something to do with the fact that there are no serial killers here as opposed to anything I've specifically done."

"How long have you known him? Spencer, I mean, of course."

"We've been together for about seven years, but I've known him for quite a bit longer than that"

"Only seven? But your daughter..."

"Is nine yes, but she the biological daughter of one our old best friends, who died only fifteen hours after Lissa was born – we're the only parents she's ever known. Anyway, why did you want to know how long we've been together?"

"The two of you are so similar you could almost be passed off as siblings, not in looks, but in every other way. I thought it would have been longer than that."

Rosie snorted loudly, "You know what they say, live with someone long enough and ... I half expect to wake up one morning and find him speaking in a Welsh accent. But we're not related, by blood or by the marriage of anyone in past generations that I know of, but he is my brother – in a non-weird, non-incest ... I'm going to stop talking now," she finished with, having ended up a bright red colour.

Rosie shook her head slightly to rid it of the thought as they walked into the kitchen, Lissa giggling as Spencer performed magic tricks for her. "I thought I told you to feed the dog, Spencer."

"I fed Meggy, mummy."

"Brilliant sweetheart, but I asked your daddy to do it. But can you pull another chair up for Emily to sit at the table too."

"She can sit in my seat," the small girl nearly yelled, pulling the brunette woman and pushing her down – meaning well – into the seat before pulling up another for herself.

Spencer pulled Rosie into his arms, and brushed a strand of red away from her face, "Have I told you..."

Melissa looked up from the tale she was regaling to Emily about flowers and butterflies, and spoke quickly. "Don't turn around," she muttered in a hushed voice.

"Why not?" Emily asked, already beginning to turn around.

Melissa grabbed her wrist stopping her. "Daddy's your friend, right?" Emily nodded. "Then don't look. There are some images you really don't need in your head, just because mummy and daddy sometimes forget they're not the only people in the world."


Purple Statice means 'I miss you'. Purple Hyacinth means 'I'm sorry'. White Hyacinth means 'I love you'. Blue Lilac means 'Innocence'. Or at least according to the internet they do anyway. And I hope I got the scientific names right. If not – blame the internet, and please correct me so I can change it. And it will have some significance later in the story. Probably.


Thank you for reading, and please review,
Mia