AN: Hey! I'd like to say yay! Chapter 4 is here! I'm so excited to continue this story because the ideas that are running through my head make me wanna scream with anticipation. And I know it's early, but there's one word that keeps popping up and I figured I'd get your guys' opinions, considering I write it all for you to see. What would you think if I mentioned the word 'sequel'? Because I'm drawing plans!

And also, if you're all cool enough to think of Criminal Minds and Twilight put together, what would you say if I tried my hand at a Heroes and Twilight crossover? I've been delving into the Heroes series and falling in love, especially with a certain Peter Petrelli. :D So, of course, my sick mind is trying to force him and Bella together—because I'm one of the few (sadly) and proud, who actually like her. At least, who she was supposed to be. Bella without Edward was smart, sarcastic, and stubborn—which, coincidentally, are the three S's I live by. And then Edward came along and she became a puddle. And I loved it then, but now after reading so many of their stories it puts me out, you know?

So those are my ideas, albeit fresh and weak ones. I hope ya'll agree because I'm uber excited about it. But, continuing, I should probably get this show on the road and get back to the drawing table to try and work on my scraps of plans. But I wanted to get some opinions from my valuable readers. Anyway, if you dropped me a line that would be awesome, but here's the story. I know, I know: finally, lol! :D

She stared at the ceiling of her dorm, the light snores of her roommate the loudest thing in the room. Rolling over, she glanced at the clock, finding that it was too early for her to head to work quite yet. Disgruntled by this not quite surprising discovery, she rolled back over to stare at the ceiling again. She traced the light cracks from who knows what went on before she got here with her eyes, hoping that would distract her enough from the guilt that seemed to eat her up inside.

She had sent her usual note back to Phil after another of his letters and checks reached her. He made good money and always sent her plenty—five hundred dollars to help pay for her dorm, meal plan, any books she may need. She never had the heart to tell him she would be fine, as she worked three part-time and good paying jobs—not to mention she was often tipped. Although she couldn't say she was the best server, but guys would give her hefty amounts for almost nothing. It was crazy—she couldn't understand why and she didn't think she ever would.

But, of course, she accepted the money and cashed the check, always. But it wasn't even the usual unease she felt at receiving a gift or money of some kind. It was his letters that seemed to rip her to pieces. He would detail his life, how he wouldn't look twice when women flirted with him, how he loved her mother and her more than himself, and how he felt that she was a wonderful step-daughter to him. He would beg that they see each other soon and ask her to write him, to tell him how college was, what was going on in her life, about her boyfriends he seemed sure that she had.

Instead, she had simply written 'Thank You' and nothing more. Two cold, blocked words, letting him know that she wasn't dead. Not physically.

Yet.

She sighed. Rolled over. Stared at the lump that was the girl she roomed with—even though they never saw each other. She felt terrible for not giving him more, but what could she say? She barely remembered anything—her life was a metaphorical blur. She phased in and out of reality, keeping just enough presence of mind to not kill herself and do any task she needed to do well. Extremely well. Too well.

She just couldn't let Phil see the broken mess she had become. Before the crash she had been fine and dandy compared to this thing she was, constantly wondering what it would be like if she just up and left. Not drove away, but left. Completely—bloody, hanging, she didn't care. She just wanted her numbness gone, and yet it was her only lifeline.

She always questioned herself, though. Why should she accept the money? It seemed as if she were using him—which she was not. At least, she never tried to use him. It was just that she knew he must be similar to her and put on the cheeriness in the letters he sent. She didn't want to shun him completely when he had done so much for her—so she took his money and confirmed that she was, indeed, still here. It seemed she would feel horrible either way. She would only illustrate for him how terrible she was, shun him completely, or use him. She could never decide which was the lesser of all evils.

The alarm clock beeped, her roommate groaned, and she jumped at the chance to leave and distract herself. She slammed the button, putting on the second alarm for the other girl and her plans, grabbing her apron and running into the cool New Hampshire air. The first thing she noticed was the odd looks people gave her—bundled in at least light jackets as they were. She looked down to see she was wearing a thin black t-shirt—which, admittedly, was her whole wardrobe. But the cold was something she simply didn't feel anymore.

She watched as her skin prickled with goose bumps, but paid no mind as she tied her apron and checked it for her order-pad, pen, mints, and spare change. Of course she was stocked and organized—everything in her life went according to plan anymore, simply because she never planned anything but work and school and sleep. Possibly eating, if she could stomach shoving food down her throat.

She rushed into the café in record time, smiling tightly at the crowd that paid her no mind; all seated in what would be her section within minutes. She made good money here, but that wasn't what made that faint bit of something resembling joy in her heart. It was the thought of no more thoughts for a long period of time to come. She tied her hair back as she made her way behind the counter to check in. Ready at last, she looked at her section, finding that the previous waitress—she knew that the name started with a 'D'—Debbie? Daisy? Daphne?—had taken care of the whole crowd. So she went around and made sure the cooks were on task, which they were. Then she went to the back room and re-stocked the napkins and silverware, but stopped the useless task as the bell jingled.

She glanced at the clock on her way out—it was exactly two, meaning she had been behind the counter for about five minutes. It was high time she got to checking on her customers anyway. She spun around the counter, catching herself before she fell, but still managed to run into someone and knock them back toward the door. He yelped, and her cheeks flushed instantly—but she was lucky to find that no one besides whoever was trying to help her from behind had noticed. Finally, she grabbed hold of the hand that was lightly on her waist, as if to steady her, and pulled herself away. "I'm so s—"

"Bella?" Her lips twitched as she fought a sarcastic, disbelieving smile. She spun and saw Derek, then looked to Spencer, and found that the world was cruel, but did have something akin to a sense of humor.

"Really, we have to find some other way to greet each other. This keeps up and one—or both, as the case may be—of us may end up in the hospital," she said drily, stepping away so he could straighten to his full, towering height over her.

"Yeah," he breathed. "With a heart-attack or two on top of it. You scared the life outta me." His breathing regulated as she smirked.

"I guess I'm just repaying you for your buddy's little stunt yesterday. Look, I have customers," she threw her thumb over her shoulder, "so you're welcome to sit anywhere while I tend to them." And then she took off toward various tables, reassuring them that she was their new waitress and she wanted to make sure they were okay. But as she turned back to the counter, she groaned. Of course they're in MY section, she thought bitterly, but she resigned herself and walked over, pad in hand.

She bit her lip as her eyes locked with Spencer's on her way over, and she couldn't pull herself away. That…scared her. She felt as if she were some kind of science experiment, being examined and probed as he searched her eyes with curiosity. She reached the table, the tie between them strengthening, before looking down and shutting her eyes. She looked back up and to Derek as she said, "Can I get you guys anything?"

Derek smirked at her, "Sure sugar, I—" Quickly, she reached around and roughly—though accidently—slammed the sugar container from the table behind her in front of him.

"Would you like coffee with that?" she said as her lips twitched again at his jump. Spencer chuckled quietly, hiding his mouth behind his hand and looking away as Derek glared at him from across the table. But that was short lived as he looked at Bella with mild amusement.

"Actually, coffee stunts your growth. And the ladies kinda depend on my growth." He winked at her, but she furrowed her brow at him in confusion.

"What?" she asked, and he knew by her tone she was totally clueless. Spencer half-choked on his laugh and just looked at her, almost as dumb-founded as Derek seemed to be.

Derek opened and closed his mouth twice, before huffing and shaking his head. "I like eggs, actually. Got any menus?" She nodded and handed them to him, still confused by what was obviously supposed to be a joke of some kind, but she knew it had gone over her head. Usually she could say she was quick to catch on, but she didn't understand what he had meant. He was in college now, why would he worry about stunting his growth? It was obvious he was done growing.

She looked between the two of them before deciding she would ask later. They were, after all, in one of her classes—Spencer in two of them. So she opted for the usual waitress tactic, knowing she had spent more than the usual amount of time at this table, and knowing that before long the other waitresses on duty would begin to wonder. Gossip, in her mind, was loathed.

"So, before you order, d'you want any drinks?" she asked, bringing the pad and pen up and biting her lip as she looked between the two of them.

Derek looked at Spencer, and they both just nodded to each other. "How about two…uh…damn, neither of us ever really pick up the coffees. Two cappuccinos, please?" She smiled and nodded, running away from what was becoming a slightly awkward scene and making her way to the coffee machine.

Coming back with two steaming Styrofoam cups, she set them down and looked back at the boys. "Ready to order or do you want more time?" she asked, carefully avoiding the probing eyes of the one on her right.

"Um…I think we're ready?" Derek said, and she assumed that he took time to look to Spencer, who must have nodded. "Yeah. Uh…can I get the simple egg breakfast? With a bagel?" She nodded and looked at him fully this time, glancing down occasionally as she scribbled the order.

"How do you want your eggs?" she asked quickly, and he smirked at her.

"As easy as they come." She didn't find anything wrong with what he had said—she just wrote 'over easy'. But he obviously expected her to, and looked slightly disheartened when she finally made herself look at Spencer, not missing a beat.

He just shrugged, glanced at the menu, and looked up at her quickly. "I—I guess I'll, uh, just have what he's having," he said hastily, looking away from her and folding up the menu. She nodded and took both of them.

"Alright. Just a sec." And she walked away, disappearing behind the counter. He watched after her, a light blush on his cheeks, and couldn't help but notice that same, slight feminine sway she possessed. Although one of the smallest, most petite women he'd seen in his life, she managed to have perfect curves.

He bit his lip and gulped, ripping his eyes away from the space she had filled, and looking to Derek. He smirked at him. "I like that chick. Even though she's kinda…" his face was screwed up, and Spencer waited patiently for him to finish his thought. "I dunno. How do you describe a college girl that clueless? She had no idea what I was saying. It's kinda hard to flirt with someone who doesn't even know you're flirting." Spencer felt something weird—a hot pang in his chest as Derek mentioned flirting with the girl, but he pushed the feeling aside. It was too dark for his liking.

"Just…clueless, naïve, innocent. She seems harmless but…" Spencer trailed off, remembering the look in her eyes that never quite went away. "…wounded. Like there's something eating at her." He looked to Derek for confirmation, but only received a nearly blank stare.

"What are you talking about? She seems fine to me," Derek said, his brows furrowing. That same blank, what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look remained on his face.

"You haven't noticed?" Spencer asked incredulously, leaning forward just slightly and discretely glancing to confirm Bella wasn't within earshot. "Her eyes. They're always dazed and…empty looking. I don't know quite how to describe it, but it's like she's constantly in pain."

Derek's frown and the furrowed brow that accompanied it deepened. "No, I didn't pay that much attention, seeing as how I just met the girl. I didn't know you'd pay that much attention to just some random girl either." His words had quite an obvious double-meaning, especially as a slow smile crept onto his face. "Could Spencer Reid—my Spencer Reid—really be developing…" he paused for a long, dramatic gasp, and Spencer silently seethed, as he knew what was to be said. But he didn't know how to deny it.

"…a crush?" Derek finished loudly, and a few tables turned annoyed glares to him as his grin widened. Spencer's lips tightened to a small, thin line as he fought his annoyance away. But then he sighed and opted to ignore it.

"Aren't we on a quest for information that could possibly lead us to a serial killer here? Yet you're going to try and tease me like a child. Fitting," he commented after a moment's silence. Derek paused, looking for an answer, and came back with another smile.

"Of course. We could always ask your girlfriend." Spencer rolled his eyes at the mere childishness that Derek seemed to possess, and opened his mouth to respond when Bella seemed to appear out of thin air next to them. A thin pale arm slowly set two identical plates in front of them, and he followed it, carefully skipping over her breasts, to her face. She smiled tightly—in that forced way of hers—as their eyes locked briefly.

"Here's your food. Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked quietly, and looked over as the evilest smirk crossed Derek's face.

"Yes, you could do—" Spencer, immediately knowing where he was going to go and the awkwardness it would bring—not to mention the unpleasant thought of this girl loathing him the rest of his life—cut him off.

"Derek and I like cream cheese on our bagels," he said quickly, sharply. She smiled again and nodded.

"Good choice," she said as she reached into her apron and pulled out the packets of cream cheese she had grabbed earlier, just in case. She set them down and began to walk away, to another table, but the visible tension and anger Spencer was directing at Derek didn't go unnoticed. She shoved the curiosity—so unlike her these days—away and continued doing her job. But once more, she looked at Spencer, and wondered how someone's eyes could be so intense.

Spencer watched her walk away out of the corner of his eye, but continued putting all his energy into staring Derek down. Said man just laughed, reaching for a fork to eat his eggs with. "Really, man, lighten up. Besides, I was making a legitimate request. She asked if she could do anything for us, and dude, you really need to get la—" Spencer cleared his throat and continued to glare, and Derek—thankfully—decided to drop it.

They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, and Slowly Spencer's mind began to drift from the girl to the case. But there was a close link between the two, and he was continually pulled toward the more appealing thoughts—the ones that didn't have to do with the brutal defilement and murders of defenseless women. But he couldn't help but notice that this Isabella was just as vulnerable and perfect a candidate as the last.

A shorter chapter than the last, yes, but I'm happy with it nonetheless. I 3 writing the dialogue, and making Bella naïve is just a favorite hobby of mine. Also, I've forgotten time and time again to mention that this takes place in New Moon and before any actual episodes in Criminal Minds. So, like, before the pilot and all that followed.

Anyway, I really hope you liked this chapter as much as I did. Writing it was a serious blast for me—I dunno why, actually. It was though—I'm just a sucker for making Derek a flirtatious monster that messes with our poor innocent Bella's head. And you can see that Spencer's feelings are kinda developing to crush level—I'm gonna base it off of that first crush he had on that bitch actress. I hate her for no reason, lol. Well, she did kiss my Spencer…in a pool…and she was half-naked while doing it…and rich and famous and all that jazz…damn her to hell. :P

So, I'll leave it there with adieu. And I hope you review. (even if it's just because I made a totally awesome rhyme by accident. I'll take it) :D