A/N: Don't worry; you don't have to read this. ;)

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*clears throat*

Story! Right-

(A/N: Haha! Sorry, but I couldn't help myself. ;) )

Previously on Criminal Minds:

That had been almost a year ago. . .

It was a good morning, a normal morning; an extremely ordinary, monotonous, routine, relaxing, auto pilot kind of morning.

Was.

He had woken up to the smell of his automated coffee marker, brewing a fresh batch of heavenly, frothy goodness at its same, routine time as all the days previously. He had moaned into his pillow at the thought of leaving his comfy warm bed, when all he wanted was another five minutes. Just like every other day. He succumbed to the inevitability of getting out of bed, getting dressed, and going to work. Just like every other day. But of course- not without his "cup of joe."

So he left- walked out of his apartment, shut the door and locked it behind him. Just like every other day. He meet up with Mr. Bromley on the stairs as he returned from his routine morning walk. The man was in his seventies and was fit as a fiddle, insisting on taking the stairs every time he had the chance. Probably why he's so fit- Reid thought again for the hundredth time. Just like every other day. He said 'Hello' to the elderly man, as always and was on his way.

He left his building and started walking. Mr. Bromley had inspired him to walk to the BAU for the past few weeks, rather than take the subway as his typical commute. After all, it wasn't really that far away, and he had to admit that many studies had showed evidence that daily walks were good for both the body and mind. Plus he could use the sun. He was rather pale, as Garcia and Morgan and Prentiss had all pointed out to him- more than once. True he didn't really need the walk for exercise, but it was nice to walk to work with his steaming cup of hot coffee and already feel like he had accomplished something for the day once he got there.

Spencer Reid smiled as he sipped his coffee, and walked down the road.

Spencer Reid was easily spotted the moment he stepped out of the building. The kid was wearing that hideous purple scarf again and had his metallic coffee cup in hand that reflected the sun. He might as well have had a bull's-eye on his forehead.

It was too easy. Poor kid.

But what did it matter. He was just a means to an end. They had all agreed. This was the plan suggested, this was the plan they chose, and this was the plan they were carrying out. Right now.

The kid had been walking to work for the past few weeks- too easy; completely exposed and vulnerable on the wide open sidewalk. He was used to the sounds and hustle and bustle of the street so he thought nothing of the sound of the speeding van coming up behind him. It was just another car on the road, or perhaps he didn't hear it over the bus that had just stopped shortly behind him and was pulling away. Whether or not he had heard it, he didn't turn until the van came screeching to a halt.

It was a crowded sidewalk- about six people in twenty yards either way. But this was their perfect shot and they were gonna make sure they knew he was gone, anyway. Who cared about some dumb witnesses? Make that "dumb, screaming witnesses."

He had to give the kid credit, though. He caught on fast. By the time the doors had burst open and three men came tumbling out, he had already dropped his coffee mug and was reaching for his gun. He was fast but not quite enough. The two guys grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back. Man, this kid was a fighter. Sucker nearly got free. He was kicking and twisting before the other guy socked in the face.

There. That got him. He kinda felt bad for him, seeing his head twist like that. God! And the sound. He hadn't heard that in years. He had hoped he wouldn't have to, his fighting day were long over and regretted, but here they were. The kid wasn't quite out, but he was pretty dazed- at least enough for the two guys to drag him over to the van and through him in. He hit the floor hard, with a resounding loud metallic "thunk". The damn people were still screaming, when they slammed the doors shut and sped off.

"See ya, Betty!" Charlotte called behind her, to the bus driver she knew so well, as she got off.

She stepped down the last step on to the damp sidewalk. What she wouldn't give for a cup of coffee right now. It had been a rough night. Why she had ever though being a night shift ER nurse was the best way to "help people," she'll never know. But she did love her job, she mentally resigned. But right now, she loved coffee more. And she could smell it.

What?

Oh. It was that really cute guy again, walking past her with his own cup of coffee. She could see the steam coming off of it. God, was there anything better than a cute, smart guy with coffee?

Charlotte was pretty sure his name was Spencer- at least that was what Veronica has told her. She was allegedly the barista that worked at the coffee shop he went to every Saturday morning, where he got his regular "viente double shot hazelnut latte, "at sat down for an hour to read a stack of books that he would bring with him. Completely different books, every time. He read incredibly fast, Veronica had said. She could never see his eyes moving behind his glasses he would wear when reading, but she saw his hands. He would briskly slide one finger down the page, guiding his eyes and no sooner get to the bottom, than go to the next page, do the same, then turn the page and repeat.

He sounded great from what Charlotte had heard of him from Veronica, who had turned him into a bit of an obsession- well, more like a strong crush. But she had to see for herself. Charlotte came to the coffee shop one Saturday to see and since had made it her routine to do so.

He. Was. Gorgeous.

He was quite, and shy. And always hid away in the corner where you could hardly seem him, much to her dismay. People seemed to avoid him, as though they were intimidated by his reading. Charlotte was certain he could actually read that fast. He wasn't like one of those typical douches who goes to a coffee shop to sit in the middle of it with their lab top and start to write just to show off that they're writing. He tried to hide. He genuinely just wanted to read.

She felt like a creeper, just watching him every Saturday, but she didn't have the balls to ask him out, and God, she wanted to. She would smile at him in the shop and he would look stunned then smile back, then go back to reading. Once she caught him looking at her. He turned redder than a cherry and nearly got whiplash he turned his head so quickly. It made her smile. He was looking at her.

He was so cute!

Once they had been in line together! She had come up behind him. He had actually said "Hello" to her. God, she was pathetic, acting like a giddy school girl for someone she didn't even know. But she did know one thing- and she didn't tell Veronica about it either. When she had been in line behind him, and he had turned around after he got his coffee, his jacket opened slightly. She saw a badge, like one of those door swipe pass badges. It had his picture on it, and said . . . wait . . . did that say. . . FBI?

Oh. My. God! Could he get any hotter?

Then she would occasionally pass him in the street like today. He must live somewhere nearby, she thought as he walk past her apparently absorbed in thought. It was really cute; he had a slight smile on his face.

No, no. . . . Oh no! He's getting away! Quick! Suck it up and just do it already! Her inner self screamed at her. Do it! Ask him out!

"Alright!" she yelled back at herself. Oh, God! I hope he didn't hear me.

He hadn't. He was nearly ten feet away now and she started into a slight jog to catch up to him. She was going to do it!

She heard an engine rev as it sped up behind her and she took a few steps away from the curb, afraid of getting run over. But she needn't have worried. The driver was in complete and total control as she sped past her and screeched and the brakes mere feet from Spencer.

It was like something out of a movie, but instead of excitement and adrenalin, she was paralyzed with fear. Just as the black van lurched to a stop, Spencer was already moving into action. She watch as he let go of the coffee and reached for waist with his right hand. Did he have a gun?

She wanted to say something, to warn, to help, to get help, to distract the men that had jumped out of the van and now grabbed Spencer. All that came out was a scream. What good is screaming going to do?

He was fighting so hard against them, but it wasn't enough. And all she could do was scream? As she watched, another man punch Spencer- hard- across his face. He stopped fight and went slightly limp. The two men dragged Spencer to the van letting his feet grind carelessly on the ground behind him, and then flung him into it. Charlotte heard him slam against the metal floor before the third man jumped and they smashed the door shut as they speed off.

It was then she realized that she was still screaming, but also that she wasn't the only one.

Get a grip! The inner voice screamed at her again. "Right." She said aloud, as though saying it would make it help. It seemed to work. She reached in her pocket and pressed the three numbers engraved in every child's mind from the time the first learn to use a phone.

"911, what's your emergency . . . ?"

A/N: Okay, so- yeah. There you go! I had originally planned to put the first few parts of the next chapter in this one, but I thought it was getting too long and I really wanted to end it here because it's kinda epic. Maybe. ;)

No! I'm totally kidding! Scroll down, there's more. ;) Although I REALLY REALLY wanted to end it here but yall were so wonderful that I gave you some more, plus I wanted to make sure yall got something new soon. I don't want to be one of those evil writers who starts something, gets halfway through and then only updates once every two months if you're lucky. ;)

P.S- I say "yall" a lot. You're gonna have to get used to it cause I'm from Texas. ;)

*clears throat*

Anyway-

"You know, maybe you should at least look like you're working." Emily smirked over her shoulder at Morgan, while he leaned back in his and tossed a ball up in the air and caught it- again, for the hundredth time that morning.

"Ah, come on, now!" Morgan smiled at her "Let me have my fun."

"It's not like your paperwork is gonna do itself . . ." Prentiss warned, though still smiling, already knowing Morgan's response.

"You know Reid- " he began.

"Yeah, I know. I know. 'He'll do it for you even if you don't ask.'" Her smile continued while she shuffled some more papers, closed the file and moved it to the smaller pile on her desk, then reach for one from the large pile to begin the process over.

"And in half the time, too!" Morgan chuckled.

"You know what my mind just refuses to comprehend?" Emily asked giving up the battle with the towering pile and letting the file in her hand fall back to her desk as she turn around to face Morgan, frustrated.

"I cannot understand how anyone could actually enjoy doing paperwork!" Prentiss said purely dumbfounded.

"Hey, think of it this way." Morgan said already smiling at his untold joke. "If the paperwork was A-sexual, it could just do itself." Morgan then proceeded to laugh loudly at his own joke.

"And what else I can't understand is how you manage to get Reid to do yours!" Emily said disgusted and turned back to her conquering pile while Morgan continued to laugh.

He was still laughing when they heard the elevator ding its arrival.

"Speak of the devil that must be him." Morgan said looking over at Emily about to turn around and greet their friend when her head popped up and quickly turned to Morgan. He didn't like that look.

"No. It can't be. He's too early. He's been walking to work lately and been so consistent you could set your watch to him." She said uneasily. Her and Morgan both turn to look at the elevator as if on cue.

They looked over just in time to see the doors open to a man who practically ran out of them, not waiting for the doors to completely open. A man all too familiar with them and this place.

"Oh my God." Morgan said slowly.

The man was speed walking towards them as though it was all he could do to keep from bolting. His eyes were red and watery as they scrunched up against his flushed face, and his frowned pulled on his skin revealing large age lines down his face. He seemed to not notice Emily and Morgan, looking right through them. Everywhere people were stunned in to silence, stopped in mid step. Someone over at the counted was spilling coffee; they were too interested in the scene playing out before them.

"Gideon!" Prentiss cried as she got to her feet, Morgan with her, as he raced past her and straight upstairs to the landing where Hotch's office was. All they could do was watch as he bashed his fist once on the door with an incredible, echoing bang before he let himself in.

They all saw through the window as Hotch hung up the phone he had held to his ear moments ago without any explanation to the person on the other end. Gideon hadn't shut the door rather flung it open, leaving the whole bull pen capable to hear.

"Gideon?" Hotch asked looking at him clearly worried, possibly for his sanity.

Rossi had come out of his office, no doubt having heard Gideon's entrance, and was now standing at the door of Hotch's office, looking in.

Gideon simply held out his hand which they all now realized had a box in it, and allowed Hotch to take it from his hand without a word. Hotch quickly opened the box, took one glance in it, then looked back at Gideon with a look of horror clearly written on his face. Never had Morgan seen Hotch actually show his emotions; he knew he felt them, but to show them. . . well- it definitely wasn't because Gideon had just handed Hotch a new puppy.

Gideon blinked back tears and struggle to ask the question through his grief and loathing as he gritted his teeth and chocked out:

"Where is Reid?"

A/N: Tada! Now just because I don't need reviews doesn't mean I don't like 'em. :D

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