Chapter three. And I took.

"She says "wake up, it's no use pretending". I'll keep stealing, breathing her. Birds are leaving over autumn's ending. One of us will die inside these arms. Eyes wide open, naked as we came. One will spread our ashes 'round the yard."
Iron & Wine

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I tried to remain seated as quietly and silently as I could, but my feet kept bouncing up and down as I let my thoughts go over the plan of this evening again and again, over and over. I knew it was good and I had planned it well. Why I kept going over and over it time after time, I didn't know. Perhaps it was the anxiety, the excitement. Perhaps it was stress, I had never dealt with an FBI agent before. They were a lot more different than the usual men I watched before. But I hadn't been able to resist. He challenged me, pushed me to get to him. He was begging, his unheard cries kept me up at night.

In the radiant, foggy night, I heard the ticking of my watch echo throughout the apartment. It was different than I thought. It seemed as if his personality was put into this house for it was just as moody and austere as his demeanour. What had happened to that man that he became so emotionless?

I put that thought aside as Aaron Hotchner stirred in his troubled sleep. The grey smoke circled in the air before I moved the cigarette closer and inhaled deeply. Some ash fell down into the darkness, consumed by it. Through the window I had opened, a soft breeze entered and disturbed the circles of the dancing smoke.

For hours, I had been sitting here, just watching his gentle face grimace as nightmares chased him in his dreams. His brows knitted into a frown again and I decided it was enough. I had work to do. In the ashtray next to me, I put the cigarette down and stood up, careful not to make a sound.

The blue, plastic bags around shoes made muffled, slightly scratching sounds as I moved across the bedroom. They could have my fingerprints. They might find it somewhere. They only thing partially erased rings on my fingers would lead them to, was that I was in the system as a suspect on seven different cases, all just like these. But it could take them weeks before they found the connection and they would not find a name, nothing. I didn't, however, wanted them to find out where I had been as CSI carefully collected the sand and dirt that came from under my shoes. Cautiously, I leant forward and my lips barely made contact with Aaron's forehead. He twitched his head slightly, but continued sleeping. I left his present on the nightstand. With a small smile, I turned and left, welcoming the dark night as I had wished for, ready to do what I was ready for.

---

I had to control not only my thoughts, but also my movements. My breathing was so quick, rapid, feverishly, I was afraid I might betray myself by acting so tense. I blended in the night, wearing a long grey coat and hiding most of my face behind a large black scarf and under a baseball cap. I held onto my fastened pace as I approached my destiny, the beast inside me growing more excited with each step, growling in my stomach, his claws ripping my insides apart. He was like a butterfly, the calm before the storm, fluttering around in my belly, slowly driving me insane as the wings of the insect were just a mere blur.

An elderly couple passed me by, obviously wary about my presence and my looks. I waited until they turned around the corner before I halted and looked up. His apartment was dark. Perfect. In the alley behind his apartment building, I found the dumpster I had used numerous times to reach the fire escape and elegantly climbed my way into the rather expensive looking building. The hallway seemed endless as I walked through it with caution. I hated the green wallpaper they used and it seemed to come right after me, chasing me, coming down on me. Passing by the doors, I could hear several sounds coming from behind them. I cut the corner, I was so close.

I stopped right in front of number two-oh-one and restrained myself from opening the door. With my hand already on the doorknob, I closed my eyes and pulled myself together. Now was not the time for mistakes or failure. My other hand shook uncontrollably and I realized my breathing was irregular. This was not right. I heard the beast inside my head screaming in agonizing pain as I understood what I needed to do. The beast protested and crawled around inside my body, making my skin itch beyond believes, but I needed to calm down, be precise. I couldn't afford any errors, not now, not when I was got so close.

I wore the key to his apartment on a leather shoe string around my neck, and I grabbed it to open the door. The dog, Clooney, responded to the opening of the front door, and came to meet me. It had taken me quite some time before he had gotten used to me. At first, when he saw me through the window, he started barking. Yet the animal had been approaching me every time I saw him in the park and he had gotten used to my smell, my presence.

Animals are so easily persuaded. No wonder people think we're closer to them than we think. People are just like that as well. It's pathetic. I feel almost ashamed that I am human too. They're all fools, stupid, mindless robots, living from one day to the other, those days filled with work, money, sex and power. When had this happened? Or was it just the 'city-life'? I know where I came from, we celebrated each day. We lived outside, enjoying nature, swimming in the river, eating from the forest. It was a time when we knew our neighbours and they knew us. A time where people talked in the village about the things that happened 'outside'. When there was trouble, everybody would help, whether it was fixing a house, helping harvest the fruit or helping a neighbour or villager. Those times, it was all so different.

I wore a scorn around my lips as I returned to the present. Focus, keep your mind sharp and steady. There were things to be done and those things required my utter attention. I was so close, I couldn't mess it up. He would be the perfect asset to my list. His apartment was dimmed and iniquitous, I could smell the aroma of his dark roasted coffee and the scent of the shampoo he used when he showered earlier. I stood in the middle of his living room and I just took in everything I heard and smelled. Closing my eyes, I let everything be imprinted into my brain.

For a moment, I was fulfilled with ecstasy, rapturous delight. I was entering my euphoria, God was pleased with my work and he granted me this divinity.

"Go, heavenly guest, ethereal messenger. Sixteen-sixty-seven, Milton, Paradise Lost, book VII."

I tried to remember everything, every feeling I had in my body, everything I sensed in my surroundings. I inhaled strongly and tilted my head back. When I released the air in my lungs, I opened my eyes again and stared right at the image I had seen in my dreams regularly. I had been on a quest and fulfilled it. This was my prize. This was an almost chimerical gift that I had deserved. All this hard work, the hours of research, trailing him, watching his movements, getting to know him by just observing him. Just like he did. I became him, for that was my journey. My destination, lay before me. Sleeping.

Funny, how nervous and trembling I was before, how utterly calm and controlled I was now. It was as if his presence soothed and eased my mind, calming me down. Not many people had that sort of power over me. Still, I loved how he made me feel. I lured Clooney into his bathroom and locked the door, I didn't need the dog to possibly interrupt my evening. My leather gloved fingers touched the numbered locks on the small safe Derek kept his gun in. Easily, I turned the small wheels, white numbers making a code, until a soft 'click' started my plans for that night. That soft click, invited me to do what I had been dreaming of for so long.

I straddled his gorgeous body, his muscles adjusted to the weight of my body. He woke up with a shock, his hand immediately raised in defence when his mind registered what his eyes were seeing. I pulled the safety pin of his own gun as the mouth pointed to the man underneath me. The racking sound echoed through his apartment and filled my ears.

The pleasure I craved from this moment was almost too much. I nearly lost it.

His eyes found mine as his brain finally kicked in. I loved how his eyes fluttered wide and open as he looked at me. I could feel his heart missing a beat and his breath caught in his throat. The fear masked by insecurity was written all over his face. A vigorous rush pulsed through my body like drugs did on a junkie. I was that junkie, I was addicted to him and I needed him to ease my pain.

Though this all almost blew my mind with excitement, I kept calm and cool. I was cold.

"Hello Derek."

I felt the pace of his breath speed up and his heart beat faster. Adrenaline spread through my veins. My eyes witnessed his reaction when he realised I knew his name. The ever-so-magnificent clockwork that was hidden behind his angelic, charismatic, charming face started racing. Oh, he was so beautiful, this deity God. And then again, he was mean and sharp, quick and hard like a truck that hit you when it came from the alley on your right; already reading me, profiling me, calculating.

I waited patiently. The smile around my lips must have sent him in the right direction. And he remained silent as realization hit his thoughts.

Their profile had been wrong.

I was no outsider, some woman that laid her eyes on him and fell in love. I was not chaotically composed, nor was I sadistic. I didn't lose something or someone recently, that had set me off, started the ticking of the bomb. I had no previous record, never been to jail. I wasn't a control freak nor did I have a low ranked job, which caused stress and left me unsatisfied. I didn't think I was better than everybody else, I wasn't sitting on some throne. Oh, they had been wrong about so many things.

I was planned, organized, disciplined and strict. No time for emotions, no messing around. I did what I had to do and that was the end of the story. I did my work thoroughly and perfect. I cleaned up after myself well, I have quite some experience with law enforcement; I knew how they worked. I was intelligent, intellectual and properly educated. I knew I was better than everybody else, I didn't think it. I had a high ranked job, got a lot of satisfaction from it, but I quit six months ago – I wasn't fired.

They were right about a couple of things though. I loved to watch, I planned well. I liked control, though I wasn't a control freak. But most of all, I like to pull the strings of the puppet I made. I like what I was creating. Though I did not crave any sexual pleasure from it. I was striving towards a goal they said I didn't know yet. But I knew my goal.

Derek Morgan was soon going to find out what my true, real goal was. I cocked my head to the right and I observed him. I waited. I watched.

"What do you want?"

"So much determination in your voice, Derek, so strong and confident."

"Who are you?"

"You can call me Nobody."

"Who are you really?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

I chuckled. Derek's eyes never lost contact with him and I saw him searching for a gap a way to get into my head. His former mentor, Jason Gideon, always used to say that they held the strongest weapon; their profile. But Derek knew that their profile had held its huge lacunas. He could look me dead in the eye, see the emotionless shell and the thick, strong, impenetrable shields and I knew. I could see it.

Fear.

He was exactly where I wanted him to be.

I had waited. I had watched.

And I took.