Disclaimer: See chapter 1

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Reid sat at his desk on Monday morning hoping that this week would be less hectic than the last two weeks had been. They'd had four cases that had taken them to Taos, Boise, Cleveland and Lacrosse, Wisconsin. He was eyeing his coffee that was still too hot to drink when Morgan and Emily returned from the break room with their own coffees. "JJ says there are no pressing cases," Emily reported gleefully, "so we're just on consults or should I say Morgan and I are just on consults."

Reid looked back at Emily suspiciously, "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Apparently Brad Filmon is ill so somebody has to teach his class," Morgan told him.

"Oh no, no way, why don't you do it Morgan?"

"Because I've got hand to hand classes and," he looked at the files on his desk, "I need some time to take care of these. Not everyone can read twenty thousand words a minute like you, genius."

"Okay, what if I take the consults off your hands and you take the class," Reid smiled, nodding encouragingly.

"Uh," Morgan paused for a moment considering the offer, "no."

"What about Rossi? He's taught lots of times. He's written books. He's used to lecturing," Reid proposed.

"You'd think he'd be the obvious choice," Emily replied, "but he and Hotch are both working on quarterly evaluations that they never got to last week because we were so busy."

"Well, isn't that just great," Reid's shoulders sagged. He hated getting up in front of a class and had only been called upon to do it a couple of times. He was aware that Hotch considered, with his vast education and the research he'd done for the many articles he'd published, he should be doing some teaching. He would probably be expected to do more as time went on and he gained more practical experience in the field to go with his intellectual knowledge. What he wasn't aware of was that Hotch had already decided that when Brad Filmon retired for good, he would have Reid take over the classes just as Gideon had done.

"Don't worry pretty boy, you'll have those little female recruits hanging on your every word," Morgan told him and then suddenly turned his attention to a plump middle aged black woman, her black hair in corn row braids bound up with a colorful headband cascaded down her back. The colorful beads as the ends clicked as she walked through the bullpen pushing a metal cart. "Well hello sweet thing," he said, "lovely Lana, when are you going to ditch that husband of yours and get with me?" Lana laughed. This was a regular ritual between Morgan and Lana Cross who delivered the mail throughout the facility.

"Not in your lifetime Agent Morgan," she said as she placed envelopes and some journals in each of their In boxes, "but you keep trying now." She winked at Reid and Emily. "Dr. Reid, how is that sweet little wife of yours? She always gives me the biggest smile when I go into QD. I've missed it since she's been on maternity leave. Oh and how's your little baby? Have you got a picture?"

Emily reached over to the hinged frames on Reid's desk. One contained a picture of Allie, the other Joanna. She handed the pictures to Lana. "Oh yeah," she said, "he's got pictures."

Lana studied the photographs. "Well, isn't she a little sweetie," she looked at Reid who beamed. "Lots of dark hair like her mama. Maybe she'll be as pretty as your wife."

Reid nodded, "I'm hoping she looks just like Allie," he said.

Lana looked at Emily with a conspiratorial grin, "Of course, it wouldn't be any hardship if she looked like you." Reid blushed a bright red and looked at the floor. "Or better yet," Lana added, "maybe she'll look like your wife and be as smart as you. Now that would be a downright dangerous combination."

"Oh, I certainly hope not," Reid replied. "I don't want Joanna to go through any of what I went through."

"You'll do fine, whatever happens," she patted his hand. "I better get moving. You say hello to your wife for me." She handed Reid back the pictures.

"I will Lana," Reid replied as the friendly woman continued to the other desks in the bullpen. Reid looked at the mail in his In box but decided to leave it. "I better go find out what I'm supposed to be teaching."

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"Okay, say a single woman, thirty-six years old, reports a rape. She's attacked in her home. She's not hurt physically, except for the actual violation, of course. What should we be looking for?" Reid asked the class.

"A power reassurance rapist," replied a woman from the back of the room.

"And how do we go about finding him," Reid asked as he turned and wrote power reassurance rapist on the blackboard.

A young man near the front raised his hand, "He lives in the area," he said.

"Correct," Reid said, "most power reassurance rapists live within walking distance of the crime." He added this point under the heading. "What else?"

"Look for arrests for peeping," said another student from the back.

Reid wrote this on the blackboard, "Why?" he asked.

"Guy has no self confidence with women, he's a loser and wouldn't approach a female in public so he peeps," replied the student.

"He's probably close in age to the victim," came from another student.

"Good," Reid said, adding it to his list on the blackboard.

"Likely lives with an overbearing mother," was shouted from the back. Reid wrote this on the board as well.

"May take souvenirs," a girl in the front said tentatively.

"That's right he will often take souvenirs to remind him of what he considers a date, not a rape." He looked at the characteristics that had amassed on the blackboard. "Okay, so the victim has told us about the rape and because of studying human behavior we already know a lot of things about her rapist and we have a place to start in our search." He paused for a moment. "How do we know he's not one of the other types of rapists?"

"He didn't try to hurt his victim," several students called out.

"You got it; this is the only rapist who doesn't try to hurt his victim. The violence increases with each type, the power assertive, the anger retaliation and the worst of all the anger excitation where it's not the rape that gets him off but his victim's fear and pain. He is the Ted Bundy of the group." He started wiping the blackboard. "That's it for today. Hopefully Agent Filmon will be back for the next class and you won't have to put up with me."

"I'd put up with him any day over stuffy old Filmon," one girl whispered to another next to her.

"I hear ya sister," the girl replied as the pair gathered their books.

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Morgan and Emily had their heads down over their work when Reid entered the bullpen and approached his desk. "Hey man, how was the class?" Morgan asked.

"It was okay, I got through it anyway and now I can concentrate on my consults." He sat down at his desk and began reading.

After he'd read through the police reports and forensic evidence from Detective Wells in Sacramento, he decided he needed coffee before he wrote his suggestions. He got up and headed for the break room.

Emily had left to get Garcia to find some information for her when Reid got back. Morgan was swiveling idly in his chair. Reid set his coffee on his desk and noticed his full In box. He reached for his mail and started sorting through it, tossing some junk in the wastebasket and saving the journals to take home and read. He came to a lavender colored envelope with no return address. He wondered what that was about. He ripped it open to find a Thank You card. Who would send him a Thank You card he wondered as he opened it and read the message inside.

Agent Reid,

I don't know how to ever thank you for what you did for me, rescuing me from that man. I will be forever grateful.

Sharon Webb

"Hm," he said, "that's a first." He passed the card to Morgan. "It really should be for the team." He remembered Gideon showing him a picture of a woman and her family. He'd saved her and she contacted him every year to let him know about her life. Maybe this was his. "That was nice of her."