AN: This is my first fanfic in years, I had the idea in my head for a few days and it wouldn't stop bugging me until I wrote it down so I hope someone else likes it. This first chapter isn't super exciting and most of the terminology I use for the profiling is complete bullcrap so don't hold me to anything I say okay? I do have the second chapter already written but I don't know if I'll post it today or in a few days, I guess it depends on whether I get some feedback or not. I would love to hear your opinions. There will be foul language and Shawn/Reid whump in later chapters (because I love beating them up), but no character death. I'll be working through problems as I write so if you notice anything feel free to tell me. Also, the statistics Reid uses in this chapter were from a CNN poll I found googling "statistics on psychics" so...

"Sorry to call you all out so suddenly, but this one is urgent." Hotch and JJ were passing out folders as the others unbuckled their seatbelts, the jet having just taken off. All seven of the team looked weary and tired, suppressing yawns.

"Let's just do the briefing so we can get some sleep before we land," Emily sighed as Morgan set up a laptop to connect to Garcia.

"Right," JJ said sympathetically, wishing she was still in bed with Will and Henry. Hotch took up his usual seat, Rossi and Reid already flipping through the file. "So far there have been five deaths, three women and two men, all aged from 21 to 29. Each were reported missing three days before their bodies were discovered on various trails. The dump sites are all secluded but easy to spot from the trails - luckily the trails are fairly well-used, or the bodies wouldn't be discovered as soon as they have been. All show signs of struggle and ligature marks, as well as signs of torture."

"Sexual sadist?" Reid threw out, glancing up.

"Looks like it," Hotch replied, studying the file himself with a frown. "Though there was no evidence of sexual assault on any of the bodies."

"The women look far more worse for wear," Morgan chimed in, glancing at the file as the laptop booted up.

"So he's degrading them," Prentiss muttered, flipping through the various reports. "Maybe they represent someone in his life, his mother or a lover."

"I don't think so," Rossi said, studying the crime scene photos. "Rather than the women being treated more harshly, it seems that the men were simply treated with more care. Look at the stab wounds - the only difference between them on the men and the women is that it's cleaner on the men, as if the unsub were taking more time with them or felt less nervous."

"It could be someone trying to explore their sexuality. The women all came first, so we he felt no gratification he could have moved on to men," Reid suggested, looking up as Garcia finally came on screen.

"Good evening my lovelies," she chirped, looking rather tired as well but still as perky as usual.

"Hey Garcia, can you get everything you have on the victims?" Hotch asked, leaning forward.

"You got it Boss-man. Garcia out." The screen went blank again and the jet was quiet except for the engines humming as everyone turned back to the files at hand.

"There was one other thing that was mentioned to me," JJ spoke up again after a short silence. "They said they wanted to keep it out of the news so that the public wasn't alarmed, but there was a rather high amount of methamphetamines in the victims' blood. The police are afraid this has to do with cartel activity. They thought they were out of their league, so they called us in."

"It's good they did, if it is a cartel this won't stop soon," Morgan mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He had a feeling this case wasn't going to be easy.

"Was that the cause of death, overdose?" Reid asked. JJ nodded at him, sighing and sinking into a seat herself.

"Well, let's all try to get some sleep. It's going to be a long day," Hotch mimicked Morgan, shaking his head before closing his copy of the file.

"Where are we going anyway?" Prentiss asked, looking up at JJ. JJ glanced over at her, smiling a bit.

"Santa Barbara, California."


Shawn knew something big was happening. He also knew it had something to do with the case of the bodies found on the hiking trails around Santa Barbara, a case which not only his father, but also the Chief, Lassiter (no surprise), Gus, and Juliet had demanded he stay away from. He didn't understand why - he didn't match the victim type (he was too old) and he wasn't a drug user either, so he wouldn't be caught dead near a cartel (unless he was investigating and got into trouble, he supposed). They all insisted it was too dangerous, and this one time he listened to them. Something about the whole crime didn't sit right with him. Even when he had managed to sneak onto the third crime scene (before being kicked out graciously by McNab), he hadn't seen anything that would've helped, and it frustrated him to no end. He had dealt with serial killers before and had no trouble treating them like any other crime... but this one was different, and it made him nervous.

So when he walked into the tense atmosphere of the police station that morning his anxiety skyrocketed, not that he let it show. He tried his best to avoid the scuttling officers as he made his way over to Jules' and Lassie's desks. Lassie looked up, but before he could say anything Shawn deposited a coffee and breakfast sandwich on the small clear space on his neat desk. Lassie looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Spencer..."

"Lassie-face! Don't worry, I didn't poison it - I know you've been working really hard on the case, and I don't want you to get any skinnier than you already are." He flashed an award winning grin, meaning what he said whole-heartedly. Lassiter was apparently too tired to come up with a snarky comeback, simply nodding gratefully as he scooped up the coffee and nursed it carefully. Shawn blinked at this, taken aback, but continued jauntily on to Jules' desk, perching on the corner.

"Hey Shawn," Jules chirped, looking only marginally better than her partner.

"Morning Jules! I brought breakfast. Got time for a bite?" Shawn grinned, handing her the other coffee. Jules glanced down at her watch with a small sigh, then glanced back up at Shawn, smiling back.

"I have about fifteen minutes. That good enough?"

"Perfect!" Shawn cried, clapping his hands before stealing a chair from and empty desk nearby as Jules cleared a space on her own desk. They didn't talk much as they ate: Shawn could tell she was exhausted, despite her being able to hide it well. Everyone at the department was. The case was taking its toll, and it irked him that there was nothing he could do about it.

"So where's Gus?" Juliet finally asked, looking a little better now that she had food and coffee in her.

"Oh, you know Gus. Always having his other fake job to run to." Shawn flashed a grin. In all honesty, Gus was sleeping in, having been looking under the weather since before the murders started. Shawn worried a bit, and Gus was more irritable than usual, even going so far as to yell at Shawn. But he didn't take it personally, he knew Gus wasn't feeling good and Gus had already texted him an apology. But Gus wouldn't want anyone to worry, just like Shawn wouldn't if he was in that position, so he made Shawn promise not to tell unless he got worse. As it was, he was taking cold medicine from his pharmaceutical kit. "What's going on around here?" Jules let out a long sigh.

"Chief called in the FBI for this one. We haven't gotten anywhere and the killings aren't slowing down. They should be arriving in," Jules glanced at her watch again, "Ten minutes. Their flight touched down about half an hour ago, so they're on their way here." Shawn remembered the last time he had a run in with an FBI agent, but pushed it aside for his excitement.

"Can I meet them?" Jules gave him an indulgent smile.

"I'm sure the Chief won't mind. But don't bother them, okay? We have to be on good behavior, not like last time Shawn. And no, you still aren't on the case," she chuckled as Shawn opened his mouth again. She sipped her coffee as Shawn rose and cleaned up, glancing over to where Lassiter had passed out snoring on his desk. Jules followed his gaze, both of them laughing.

"We'll wake him in a few minutes," Shawn said. He had to admit, Lassie was pushing himself even farther than usual for this case, and it wasn't good for him. He deserved a little sleep. Jules nodded, leaning back in her own seat and letting her eyes drift shut.

"He hated having to call in the FBI. He thinks the Chief thinks he isn't competent enough to solve the case."

"He knows it's not that," Shawn laughed. "He just has a big old ego that needs to be filled."

"Shut up, Spencer," Lassie snapped from his desk before going back to snoring. Shawn opened his mouth, shocked, and looked over at the laughing Juliet.

"That's- But-" He sputtered, before bursting into laughter himself.

"They're coming!" Buzz suddenly called, peering out the doors of the station. Activity tripled as Juliet and Lassiter jumped to their feet, straightening their clothes and racing to the doors, the Chief emerging from her office looking harried. Shawn blinked before leaping up and following them, hovering behind Juliet and the Chief, glancing through the windows.

Pulling up were two large, black SUVs. As they stopped several intimidating men and women and one not so intimidating man climbed out, all glancing around as they took in their surroundings. Chief Vick had rushed out to meet them, shaking all their hands as they exchanged greetings before leading them into the precinct. Shawn had to admit, these guys looked a lot more like they meant business than the last FBI agents he had encountered.

As they entered he felt their eyes settle on him where he was hovering beside Juliet. After all, he was a man in civilian clothing but not in cuffs, in the middle of a police station. Vick introduced the two detectives, her mouth forming a thin line when she saw Shawn. He knew she was worried, but these guys gave him enough anxiety to make him behave.

"And this is our consultant, psychic detective Shawn Spencer." Eyebrows went up. The not-very-threatening-but-quite-tall young man tilted his head, studying him. Shawn studied back, curious.

"Psychic?" the most controlled looking but also most dangerous looking man echoed, and suddenly Shawn felt very small and very scared. These seemed like the kind of guys that could see right through him. He simply nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth.

"You know, 57% of Americans believe in psychic phenomena," the tall young man informed, looking up from his studying. Two of his coworkers started laughing. The dark-skinned man next to him clapped a hand on his shoulder and laughed "Good to know."

Apparently the leader - Shawn could only assume he was the leader, as he was at the front and had been addressing Chief Vick - decided to drop the subject for now and glanced at the detectives and Shawn as he ran through introductions once more.

"SSA Hotchner, this is SSA Morgan, Rossi, Prentiss, JJ, and Dr. Reid." Shawn only felt slightly better now that he knew the names of these people who could potentially ruin his career. He knew the looks they were giving him - they were the same looks he gave everyone else or a crime scene when he was studying it. Dr. Reid waved slightly and Shawn couldn't resist grinning back.

Lassie and Jules shook hands with everyone while Shawn kept his own hands firmly lodged in his pockets. He felt these people would be able to pick up on his nervousness, but he was good at hiding it (lots of practice) and bounced on the balls of his feet with energy. Agent JJ turned back to the Chief.

"Is your consultant working on this case? We really can't advise that, given the violence of the murders."

"No, he's not. In fact, I'm not quite sure why he's here..." Vick shot him an accusing look and Jules quickly stepped up to his defense.

"He brought breakfast for us, Chief. He won't be in the way, he just wanted to meet the agents." Shawn grinned disarmingly and Vick gave a terse nod.

"Well it's nice to meet you," Agent Hotchner gave a small smile. Shawn blinked. He didn't think the man knew how to smile. "Though, personally, I don't believe in psychics." Lassiter snorted.

"You and me both."

"Oh don't worry, I'm used to that." Shawn shot back his own smile, ignoring Lassie.

"Despite his title, he has been invaluable to the department," Vick offered, and Hotch nodded, glancing at JJ.

"We might just need him then," he muttered before following the rest of his team to the small briefing room Shawn was so used to where they had already begin to set up. Shawn glanced at Chief Vick.

"Does that mean I should stick around?"