Disclaimer: The usual; I don't own 'Criminal Minds' or the characters. I only own my plot and the characters I have created.

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'A Force of Nature'

Chapter Three

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"Morgan, this is not a BAU case," Hotch said.

"Come on, Hotch. It's an interstate stalking case. That makes it federal, and therefore F.B.I."

"Morgan, I know how hard it is to look at something like this and say we can't do anything about it. However, in this case there is no specific threat against Daniel Meier. All we really have is Reid's belief the person who wrote those letters intends to cause him physical harm."

"You tell me how often Reid is wrong about these things, Hotch!"

"Morgan, you know that's not good enough. We can't offer him federal protection based on that. All we can do at this point is the same thing we've done for everyone else involved in the Bermuda case; provide a police presence."

"So like so many other cases we just wait until the stalker attacks the victim before we react."

"Morgan, that's enough."

Morgan shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hotch. I just have a bad feeling about this one."

"I get it. We're just limited in what we can do."

Morgan left Hotch's office and headed for his desk where he plopped down in his chair and sighed. "What's wrong?" Reid asked.

"I didn't get anywhere with Hotch."

"I was afraid of that. He has to follow the rules."

Morgan shook his head and reached for a file on his desk. Just as he flipped it open his cell phone rang. "Morgan." He listened for a moment. "Slow down. You received this today?" He reached for a pen. "What was the specific wording? … Listen, I'm going to give you a fax number. You send me a copy of that letter immediately. I will get back to you as soon as I possibly can."

"What?" Reid asked after Morgan had disconnected the call.

"Daniel Meier received another letter in the mail today. This one is very specific. There's absolutely no doubt it's a death threat this time."

"What did it say?"

Morgan handed Reid the paper he had been writing on and headed for the fax machine. "You've been ignoring me for four months, Daniel. You shouldn't have been ignoring me. I don't like it when people ignore me. I can get to you. I know where you live. I know where you train. I watch you all the time. It's time for you to die," he read aloud. The stalker then went into specific details of how they planned to hurt Daniel. "Geez!" Reid commented to no one in particular.

"What's that?" Prentiss asked as she walked up behind Reid holding a cup of coffee.

"It's a new threat Daniel Meier received today."

"It's it related to the murder case?"

"No, it's from one of his stalkers."

"One of them?"

"Yes, I think he has at least three."

"Come on, kid," Morgan called, waving a paper at Reid. "We're taking this to Hotch right now."

"One can only hope this is a sick prank," Hotch was saying a few minutes later as he held the fax in his hands. He handed the paper over to Rossi who was sitting across from his desk.

Rossi shook his head. "Did he fax a copy of the front of the envelope as well?"

"Yes. The postmark is from Chicago, same as the other letters Reid felt were threats," Morgan answered.

"Where in Chicago specifically?"

"Zip code 60611. One of the businesses located in that zip code is the Chicago Tribune, as well as the Crowne Plaza Hotel, The University of Chicago, The Marriott Magnificent Mile Hotel, the Wrigley Company, Playboy Enterprises…"

"Reid, not now please," Morgan interrupted.

"Another time I'd be interested in finding out why you knew that was where Playboy Enterprises is located," Rossi grinned.

"Uh, I uh, I just knew," Reid blushed.

"Morgan you told Daniel Meier you'd call him back, so let him know we will be heading over there as soon as possible. Tell him to expect us in a couple hours, please."

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A pale Daniel Meier opened his front door in response to Morgan's knock. "Hey, Daniel. Can we come in?"

"I'm glad to see you guys," he said, opening the door wide.

"Of course you know me and Reid. This is SA Jennifer Jareau, SA Emily Prentiss, SSA David Rossi and SSA Aaron Hotchner."

"So we finally meet, Agent Jareau." Daniel led the way to the kitchen table. "I only have four chairs…"

"No problem," Rossi responded. Daniel, JJ, Prentiss and Hotch sat around the table while Rossi, Reid and Morgan stood leaning against the couch.

"I hope you don't mind, but when Agent Morgan gave me your names I looked you all up on the Internet." He looked at Hotch. "I'm really sorry about your wife, Agent Hotchner."

"Thank you," Hotch said quietly.

"What did you find out about me?" Rossi asked, breaking a short silence.

Daniel turned and pointed at a bookshelf in the living room. "I have a couple of your books. You're a respected man."

"Just out of curiosity," JJ began, "Who got the most hits?"

"Dr. Reid. But Agent Rossi wasn't far behind."

"Figures," Morgan commented. "The kid usually beats all of us at the Google game."

"You have a nice house, Mr. Meier," Prentiss commented.

"It's Daniel. Thanks. My mother did it. She's an interior decorator."

Hotch watched quietly as JJ and Prentiss engaged Daniel in conversation about his house and whether or not he liked living in the D.C. area. He could see him visibly relax as the two female agents talked to him. Hotch knew it wasn't sexism to realize a woman could often do a better job of putting a victim at ease. Therefore he sometimes had Prentiss and JJ take the lead in this type of situation. It was obviously working this time.

"Mr. Meier," Hotch began after a few minutes. "Your stalker sending you a death threat from across state lines has made your case a federal case, and that makes the F.B.I. the investigative agency. We'd like to check the envelopes the threats were mailed in for DNA; and the letters and envelopes for possible fingerprints."

"Okay. I have them right here," Daniel said, pushing a manila envelope toward Hotch. "The one that came today is in there, along with the ones Dr. Reid put aside the other day. I also put the list Agent Morgan asked for of anyone I know in the Chicago area in there. There are a few names on that list, including a couple of skaters at the National level."

"We're not accusing anyone, Daniel," Reid commented. "We're just being thorough."

"We'd also like to offer you federal protection in addition to the police presence outside your house," Hotch added.

Daniel sighed. "I already have cops following me to and from the rink, to and from the grocery store and everyplace else I need to go, as well as hanging around outside 24/7… What the heck else do I need?"

"A safe house where you'd be under round the clock protection."

"No way. I'm not leaving my own home, Agent Hotchner."

"Okay, then we'll offer you extra protection here at your house."

"I don't want strangers hanging around my house all the time. The police cars outside are bad enough. My neighbors are getting pissed."

"It would be our team handling the detail, Daniel," Morgan commented.

"I thought you guys were profilers."

"We are. However, we're also federal agents. We've provided protection to victims in cases we've worked on before."

"I don't know…" Daniel sat with his arms folded for a few minutes before continuing. "I didn't even go to the rink to train today because that letter made me think twice about whether I wanted to drive to and from Rockville. My coach called and yelled at me for fifteen minutes when I didn't show. Any of you guys ever have someone yell at you in Russian for fifteen minutes?"

"Uh, not lately," Rossi joked.

"Well, it isn't fun. That's for sure!" He looked around at the team. "So, someone would be here all day and all night? And at the rink also?"

"That's the idea," JJ said.

"Well, okay then. I guess whoever is here could put their stuff in the guest bedroom. When do we start?"

"Tonight. Morgan and Reid will come back later for the evening detail. Prentiss and Rossi will relieve them tomorrow, and Reid and Morgan will be back again tomorrow evening," JJ told him. "Agent Hotchner and I will be coordinating the murder investigation with the other teams, so we won't be here."

"Okay, I guess."

"So," Morgan said, pushing himself away from the couch. "Who's bringing dinner, then?"

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A/N: I keep thinking how hard it must be to be Hotch. He always has to play devil's advocate, and try to be practical and so on. You all know what I mean if you watch the show.

I know the death threat isn't worded great. It was hard to come up with something that sounded right, so I finally just left it the way it was. I'm so lame sometimes!