Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and no copyright infringement is intended

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"Spencer," the voice on the phone said, "are you alright?"

"Am I alright? How can you ask that? Am I alright?" Reid paced the floor of his apartment. "You must know what happened today at the bureau…with JJ?" He shouted into his cell.

"Yes," the voice said sadly. "I know what happened. I'm sorry. I know Agent Jareau means a lot to your team…to you."

"Can't you…" Reid began, only to be cut off sharply by the voice.

"Spencer, what I can do is tell you to stop right there. I'll pick you up in thirty minutes and we'll go to a meeting, where things are…where you won't be bordering on insubordination if you say what I think you wanted to." The call abruptly ended.

Reid was pacing in front of his apartment complex when the grey Lexus pulled up in front of the building. He got into the car and, before he could say anything, John raised his hand. "Save it until we get to the meeting." The pair rode in silence the rest of the way to the centre where their Beltway Clean Cops meetings were held. After John had parked the car they headed into the building.

When they reached the meeting room, Reid noted that the sound of the fountain outside the hall, its drops glistening from the light, was inaudible, drowned out by voices of the lawmen and women mingling, getting coffee and chatting before the meeting. Spencer and John were greeted with some hellos, nods and waves from others attending. John headed for the coffee pot, poured two coffees, added a liberal amount of sugar to one, and went to find Spencer who was looking at the fountain, transfixed.

"Here, drink this," John said as he handed him the coffee.

"I don't want coffee," Reid said, but took the offered brew anyway.

"Since when?" John smirked.

"Can I talk now?" Reid asked his superior.

"Yes," John said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"You know what happened with JJ." It was a statement, not a question. "She told us it was above Strauss' pay level. You're higher on the food chain than Strauss, is there anything you can do?" His voice almost pleaded with the man.

"No."

"No," Spencer yelled in a whisper. "That's all you can say to me, no."

"Yes, that's all I can say," John responded more calmly than Reid. "I may be higher on the food chain, as you put it, than Section Chief Strauss, but, even I am not privy to what goes on in the director's office.

"The director," Reid's chin dropped. "What's he got to do with any of this?"

"Last time I checked, he was head of the bureau," John replied.

"So, what, someone from the Pentagon is playing politics in the director's office and we end up losing someone who's vital to our team. How fair is that?" Reid asked.

"I don't know, how fair is it Spencer? You might not like it, but that's the way the world works. You snub your nose at the very idea of it, but isn't that exactly what you're doing right now?"

Reid's chin dropped once again.

"Come on Spencer, you called me on my cell. You didn't make an appointment with my secretary or storm angrily up to my office. You called me because you know me from here," his hand gestured to include the room and all the people in it, "something we don't mention at work. You thought that gave you an in, some kind of leverage with a higher up. Hit me where I'm vulnerable."

"John, I never…"

"Of course you did. You're willing to do almost anything to get Agent Jareau back to the fold, and if it means using a connection you'd rather not use, you'll do it, that's politics." He raised his hand when Reid was about to speak again. "It's okay, it's what I would have done too. Don't worry about it, I'm not going to hold it against you, inside or outside of this room. The BAU, and Agent Jareau in particular, were totally screwed, and I don't know why. I don't know if there are skeletons in the director's closets or if deals were made under the table, quite possibly. Will your team have to adjust to adverse circumstances because of it, yes. Will your team, and possibly your cases suffer from her absence, likely. Will you miss her, without a doubt. Is there anything you can do to change it, no."

"So what do I do?"

"You drink your coffee and then you go sit in one of those seats, and when the meeting's called to order, you stand up, introduce yourself and share with the group. You can't help Agent Jareau; you can only do what's best for you. From what I know of her, that's what she'd want you to do."

Reid nodded and drank his cooling coffee while the attendees began to take their seats and the meeting got under way. The leader, a man in his fifties from DC metro, with graying hair and probing eyes, introduced himself to the group and informed them of how long he'd been sober, "Who'd like to begin?" He asked.

Reid stood and walked to the lectern. "My name is Spencer."