The entire ride from the cemetery was spent contemplating his options. Paris knew he had two choices, both with the same end result; he could admit his stupidity to Eric and face the severe consequences, or he could play on the sympathy spectrum; apologize and hope that he could soften Eric up…then face the consequences, which might end up being safer than the first proposition.

The officer that had found him hadn't spoken a word since the cemetery, but that was ok with Paris, because it gave him a chance to plan his words carefully. At first he had been suspicious of the lone officer who had managed to find him, even if tracking him shouldn't have been that difficult, at least not for those who knew him; this guy had to be new, or at least new to Paris, because he hadn't recognized him, his badge had said he was from the South central area of Vegas; so many officers from the other districts had joined forces with Eric's team to find the guy who had killed all those kids; rumor had it, Eric had even called in the FBI for help to catch the guy responsible.

Paris sighed, four of kids he had never met and didn't know at all, but Grant was a different story…he was a few years older than Paris, but they were friends; even best friends.

Grant was a foster kid too, but while the Williamsons were only Paris's second foster family in his life and were technically his family to begin with because of Leslie, the Kilbourns were Grant's fourth foster family.

According to Grant, the other three just hadn't liked him, but Paris was good at reading people, he knew the real reason, Grant's obvious ADHD and difficulty taking criticism, and overall temper made him tough to place.

Of course, Paris never said this out loud, especially not to Grant, he had no business creating a psychological profile on his friends…Grant had trouble keeping friends, the only reason him and Paris got along so well aside from their being part of the glorious foster care system, was the fact that both boys knew which buttons would instigate the other and made sure to avoid hitting them.

Not to mention, Grant was more like a big brother to Paris than anything else. They looked out for each other, whenever Grant needed help with schoolwork, Paris was there to give him a hand and if Paris needed someone to shoot soccer balls off of or needed someone to vent to, Grant was there.

Paris rubbed the back of his neck, he had seen Grant, standing outside his school and he had looked like he needed someone to talk to, and if the bus driver hadn't chosen that particular moment to lurch the bus away from the school, Paris would have been off that bus in nanosecond and walked home with Grant, they lived just two streets over from one another, well two streets from where Paris had lived with Leslie, the distance was a bit further now, Paris now lived further from the schools a good five miles, the Kilbourn's lived just down the street from it, but finding out if Grant was ok would have been worth the long walk home. And if he had been with Grant…Paris shook his head trying to put the what-if thoughts out of his head, at least for now.

The screeching of brakes brought Paris back from his thoughts, as the cop pulled into a parking spot in front of the station. Paris took a deep breath as he slipped out of the car; maybe he could block Eric's ranting out this time, all he had to do was focus on a book…any book at this point would work.

The officer put a hand on Paris's shoulder and guided him through the front door, Eric's officers acknowledged Paris as he walked past them, none of them looked particularly grim, no more than usual lately, this could be a good sign, he'd have to wait until he saw Eric himself.

The main bullpen was packed with officers, some he recognized, but most were new faces; but it was the small group not dressed in uniforms that caught his attention, there were five of them, at least.

One was dressed in a suit and tie, definitely FBI; he was talking to Eric's fellow captain Greg Frances, Paris shook his head a little raising an eyebrow at the agent; Paris was drenched in sweat and he was use to the heat, even though he really hated it; and he could not understand how the agent could be in that suit and not be uncomfortable; even with the air-conditioning running, the bullpen of the station was still sauna like.

Paris continued his glances, trying to mark who was FBI; there was an older guy who was staring at the bulletin board intently, Paris didn't have his glasses on so he couldn't really see what the guy was looking at, but it did look like a few photo and if Paris enjoyed betting, he'd say that they were the pictures of the crime scenes.

Just across the room, a blonde woman was talking quickly on her phone and handing manila folders to different people, she nodded to a black haired woman and an muscular guy in a black tee-shirt, he may not have been dressed in an official looking suit…but he definitely looked FBI, so did the woman with the black hair, just by their mannerism.

Just off to the side of them was a younger guy who was putting different colored thumbtacks into a map of the city, if any of the agents didn't look the part it was this guy, if anything he looked like he should be at a college, not just 'cause he looked about the same age as Janet, but because he was dressed like he belonged at some prep school, but, there was also something familiar about him that Paris couldn't place and couldn't shake, but he was mainly curious about the tacks.

Paris looked past the FBI for a second trying to locate Eric, he needed to get a feel for what thoughts were going through Eric's head before he came charging over ready to lay down the third degree.

Finally he spotted him, standing in the doorway of his office. Paris took a deep breath, so Eric was waiting for him, he figured he would be, but a closer look would tell Paris exactly what he could expect.

Eric's arms were crossed, so he was definitely mad, but Paris looked closer at his face, his uncle's face told a different story then his body language, his face had a look of relief where there was once concern.

Eric may be mad at what Paris had done, but he was more relieved than anything else, something that definitely worked in Paris's favor.

Paris took a deep breath and walked slowly towards Eric. The agents all looked at him as he passed them. When he reached Eric, the captain didn't say a word; instead he pointed inside his office and followed Paris inside, shutting the door behind him.

For the first few minutes, Eric still didn't say anything; he sat down at his desk and gestured for Paris to take one of the other chairs. The clock on his desk ticking was the only sound in the office, aside from Paris's sneakers hitting the wooden chair.

"Er…Uncle Eric…I'm" Paris started to say, then stopped before trying to speak again, "I just wan-"

"Paris, stop for a second. Let me talk you are just going to sit and listen." Eric interrupted "Now you did two really stupid things today, you got into a fight with your classmates and you ran away from the problem…not just that you took off from school and no one knew where you were. In case you haven't noticed, nearly all of Las Vegas PD is running around the city and the rest of them are in this station, not to mention the FBI is outside this room, what do you think is going on?" Eric paused staring Paris down "Paris I know you know all about this case, I may not be able to read 10,000 words a minute, but that doesn't mean I'm blind and it doesn't mean I don't know what's going on in my own house. You're a smart kid Paris, but taking off when you know all this is going on was the stupidest thing you have ever done."

"I know…" Paris replied "and I'm sorry," Eric sighed, he stood up and walked over to Paris's seat, he knelt down so he was eyelevel with his nephew

"Normally I don't care why, but I think this time why is exactly what I need to hear, what pissed you off so much that you attacked those guys? I know Keith is a real bully, but you usually stay out of his way." At first Paris didn't say anything; in fact he didn't want to say anything. But he realized that Eric was giving him a chance to tell his side, in fact, if Paris didn't know better he would say that Eric was more concerned that Paris was all right, than the fact he had gotten into a fight at school and run off. "Well?"

"We had a sub today…and well she called me Paris…not Xander," Eric sat down on his desk, he looked like he wanted to make a comment, but decided just to let Paris explain himself "so, when we went out to recess, Jamal and Keith started teasin' me about my name." Eric rubbed his temple

"Please don't tell me you attacked them because they teased you. That's only sinking down to their idiotic level."

"It wasn't that…I was fine with ignoring them."

"Then what happened?"

"They started making fun of me by using mom. Then Jamal asked if she was some crack head too addicted to k….to know I was a boy. He called her butt faced loony and a wacko." Paris looked down at his feet "I don't care if they make fun of me. I can ignore 'em, but they had no right…no reason to go after mom. I couldn't help it" Eric sighed again that made perfect sense to him, but he didn't want Paris think he agreed with fighting or running away, even though he understood Paris's reasoning now, and maybe just maybe would have done the same thing, had he been Paris's age and in the boy's shoes.

"Paris, it's just words…words may hurt emotionally, remember what mom used to tell you when you were little, Aunt Lori and I have said it too: Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me? Do you remember that at all?"

"'Course I do, but that little rhyme was made up by the bullies to compensate for their crud actions and you said it yourself: words do hurt…they hurt emotionally and that's just as bad as punching someone in the face maybe even worse wounds heal words stay with you." Paris replied smartly.

Eric rolled his eyes and chose to ignore that comment, mainly because he saw Paris's point, but wasn't going to admit that.

"But even then," he continued "it's no reason to attack someone; they read you like a book, pal and did it pretty easily. It's not that hard to ignore bullies, and it's not that hard to ignore idiots like them."

"Maybe to you" Eric rolled his eyes again he did that a lot when talking to Paris, he reached under his desk and pulled out Paris's backpack "I'll apologize for runnin' away and for fighting, but I refuse to apologize to Jamal and Keith…they go first, that's my condition." Paris crossed his arms refusing to continue on with his explanation and also refused to negotiate the matter any further.

"Here," Eric said tossing Paris his backpack "you've been suspended for two days anyways technically three counting today, but that doesn't mean you get a vacation from your homework." Paris stared at his bag then looked up at Eric obviously confused "Nick Galloway dropped it off about twenty minutes ago, after he called me to let me know where you had gone." Paris peeked inside his bag, double checking his stuff,

"How come only two?" he inquired "I mean when Keith got into a fight back in September he was suspended for a week."

"Paris, how many times do I have to tell you? …Don't look a gift horse in the mouth,"

"Yeah, well you also said when in doubt ask."

"Er…right I did say that one." Eric stroked his graying beard "basically it's your first offense, and second, one of your classmates told Mrs. Hesser that Keith and Jamal instigated the attack by teasing you and a number of other students backed her up on that," Paris gave a half grin, had to have been Jess, she was the only one who would've stood up for him like that. "Anyways, you're stuck here for the next few hours, Lori went to go pick Janet up, she promised to call when she gets to Salt Lake,"

"Does she know?"

"Nope, I didn't think telling her that you were suspended for fighting and truancy over the phone while she's driving was such a good idea. We are going to talk about it though so don't get your hopes up that this will all go away. I'm here for a good few hours, and so are you, hopefully I can get you home and in bed at a decent hour tonight, but if we're still workin' on this, your gonna have to crash in bunker room."

Paris made a face. Nicknamed the bunker-room, it was an extra storage room of the station, that had a couple cots amongst the boxes, old computers and other random junk that no one could stand to throw out, but didn't want cluttering up the station itself.

Paris had slept there once before and the thought of sleeping in there again wasn't a high point on his list, it creeped him out in there, even for a kid who liked spooky things and loved being scared the noises and the dimmed lights, made it resemble an old deserted hospital to much for Paris's liking; not to mention it smelt funny like a mix between cleaning supplies, old sneakers, and three months old tuna fish sandwich, the source of the last one was something he had yet to find and at this point wasn't sure he wanted to find.

He sighed and he looked over his shoulder towards the window, the blinds were half closed, so he could see out into the bullpen. The FBI was still milling around, the older guy however met his gaze; they had this staring contest for about five seconds, before Paris finally looked away, turning back to Eric.

"So how close are they to giving a profile?" Paris asked, Eric raised an eyebrow, he knew that Paris was well informed on the case, despite his best efforts to keep it from him, but knowing why the FBI was there was not information his ten year old nephew could have gotten so easily; he crossed his arms and looked at Paris expectantly "what? They don't look like typical FBI; all of them just scream profilers…especially the guy in the suit and the guy lookin' at the pictures, their BAU Behavioral Analysis Unit, right, from Quantico?" Eric nodded; Paris chewed his thumb nail a bit "the pictures, those are of the kids aren't they?" Eric sighed and nodded

"Yes" he replied and as if reading Paris's mind "and yes Grant's picture is one of them." Paris put his head down taking a deep breath. "I was really hoping to keep you out of this Paris, even more so because of Grant." Eric looked out the window at his officers before turning back to Paris "but, I think one of them may want to talk to you,"

Paris raised an eye brow

"Why me? What can I possibly offer 'em that they don't already have?"

"You were Grant's best friend Paris, you knew him best, their trying to get to know the kids, to get an understanding on why each one of these kids…" his voice trailed off

"Why each one of them was killed? 'cause that will help build a substantial profile and narrow down whose doing it?"

Eric patted Paris's shoulder

"That's what we're hoping" he paused "let me go talk to them first ok? Start your homework, your friend Jess wrote down the assignments for you."

Eric walked out of his office, and Paris followed him, poking his head out of the office to listen to the agents. He had been fascinated by the FBI since he was little; from the founding of the FBI, to the induction of the BAU, originally the Behavioral Science Unit; he thought it was an amazing occupation and read every book he could get his hands on about the Bureau, especially the BAU, the idea of profiling made the career just that much more appealing. Paris was already excellent at reading people he could profile those around him with ease, he knew that there was more to being a profiler, much more, but he also knew that it was a necessary requirement for the unit.

He put his head down thinking, knowing the FBI was right outside the door reminded him that this coming summer was supposed to be his and Leslie's trip to Washington DC, actually, Grant would've gone with them, since Leslie was good friends with Grant's foster family, they had no problem giving permission for him to go with Leslie and Paris on the trip; it would have been a two week long trip, flying to Virginia for a few days in Williamsburg and Busch Gardens and also Jamestown so Paris could see all the preparations being done for the quadricentennial which would be the following year, before driving up to the Nation's Capital for the remainder of the two weeks visiting all the museums, the prominent buildings, and her main reason for the trip, the FBI building; it had been technically closed to tours in 1999, but one part of the building was designed for free public tours, you just had to catch it on the right day.

Leslie had always encouraged his interest in the Bureau and had hoped that an interest in it would alter his negative perception on being extremely intelligent; she hoped someone at the building would have some kind of impact on him, though he just had hoped to talk to someone about what he would need to do to reach that goal.

Hearing his name brought Paris back to reality; apparently Eric was discussing him with some of the agents.

"Wait…Paris? As in the city?" the agent in the tee shirt asked, Paris rolled his eyes, that retort was typical, the best guesses people could come up with in regards to his name was he was either named for the capital of France or for Paris Hilton, no one ever seemed to remember the epic poem written by Homer about the Trojan War. He did appreciate the agent not saying as in Paris Hilton though, but he was fully prepared to set the agents straight, give them a chance to profile him and he them.

Taking a deep breath and pushing his long bangs back, Paris stepped out of the office, he was shaking with nerves a little, he hated talking to new people…but he had to do this. With that thought on his mind, he took one more deep breath and spoke up

"No, as in Prince Paris of Ancient Troy from Homer's Iliad; abandoned as an infant by his father King Priam on the side of Mount Idea, after being told by an oracle that Paris would bring about the destruction of Troy. He was raised by shepherds and won favor with his father by winning an athletic tournament conducted by the king. He's best known for an event that triggered the Trojan War; his wooing and kidnapping of Helen, wife of Spartan king Meleaus. Before he was killed himself in a battle, Paris defeated the supposedly indestructible Greek hero Achilles, he killed Achilles with a single arrow, under the guidance of the Goddess Aphrodite, who aided the arrow to the hero's heel, the one place he was considered most vulnerable." Paris paused trying not to grin at the fact everyone was staring at him wide eyed, even the cops who knew him were staring "it's a great story, so's the Odyssey." He gave a short chuckle and shrugged as Eric rolled his eyes again and shook his head laughing a little.

"If you guys couldn't guess, that would be Paris…my walking encyclopedia of random factoids," the officers who knew Paris all laughed, so did some of the agents, including the one who had guessed the origin of his name.

"Sounds like someone we know," he mentioned looking over his shoulder at the guy with the tacks, who turned and raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing I say is ever random. Every fact I have ever given is completely relevant to whatever discussion happens to be occurring." Paris's grin widened, he turned to Officer Gage, a rookie, whose younger sister used to baby-sit for Paris when he lived with Leslie "including the lifespan of your computer if you continue to let it run with an outdated security system, no firewall, and keep refusing to back up your files on an external hard drive."

Gage grinned and pushed Paris gently

"Smart ass," he said amused, Eric gestured for Paris to come closer, which he did, he gestured to each of the agents in turn as he introduced them

"Paris, these are Agents Morgan, Greenaway, Hotchner, Gideon, Jareau," Eric paused, he was horrible with names, actually Paris was impressed that he had gotten as many as he had, he was looking at the young agent with the tacks, the agent looked up from his own world "I'm sorry, and?"

"Dr. Reid," Agent Hotchner answered Paris was taken aback, doctor? Not agent?

"Right, sorry," Eric said as his face flushed with embarrassment, but he quickly recovered. Agent Morgan however was looking at Paris with an confused look on his face,

"How old is this kid?" he asked the room.

"Ten," Greg spoke up from his paperwork "though he talks like he's fifty,"

"I do not," Paris retorted, he turned to the agents "I'll be eleven in a couple days, Sunday to be specific."

The blonde agent, who Eric had introduced as Agent Jareau smiled gently at him,

"So why were you named Paris?"

"My mom was a fan of the classics, the Iliad and the Odyssey are….were her two favorite. Lucky for me she wasn't a fan of Dickens. I can use Paris to my advantage better than I could Oliver, which would only have increased my probability of getting pounded on at school. Least with Paris I can change it."

"Change it to the other name that Paris is known as? Alexander?" a voice came from behind him making Paris jump.

It was Dr. Reid, Paris turned around fast to face him, partly surprised that he made the connection.

Reid gave him a little grin, which slowly Paris returned, it was a joke that apparently only they understood, because no one else seemed to get it. No one aside from Leslie had ever understood the reason Paris had gone by Alex, why Alexander had become his middle name, at least not unless he explained it to them, Dr. Reid was the first.

"As a matter of fact yeah; after my experience today it only proves my point that my name could lead to problems" he finished looking at Eric who gave him a warning look "anyways…I think she was making a point and based on my namesakes list of events that happened to him and my current living arrangements."

"Paris, knock it off"

"Sorry Uncle Eric,"

"Why don't you go take a cool down in my office, and do something productive, like you're homework? Like I asked you to do?"

"Aye, aye sir," Paris replied and walked back to Eric's office.