Author's Note: Not much to say, at this point. Although, I did hear on the news a couple days ago that they've just proven the existence of the elusive Higgs boson, also known as the 'God particle'. Pretty damn cool, if I do say so myself. I wonder what Gerald would make of that?

Warnings: Slash, violence, Strauss-bashing, yada yada yada.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Period.

Emily stared at Damien, baffled. "So we just take this lying down?"

"It's starting to look that way." Damien said, shrugging helplessly. "Strauss was very clear that there's no getting out of this, and the guy's arriving any minute: we'll just have to-"

That sentence was never to be finished, though, because he'd just heard one of the secretaries saying, "Oh, yes, that's SSA Vryce right over there, Agent Tarrant."

Unable to believe his own ears, Damien whipped his head around, cricking his neck in the process - and felt his jaw hit the floor.

Gerald Tarrant was walking through the open glass doors with all the easy, nonchalant fluidity that had haunted Damien's dreams for six years. Tall and fair as ever, his golden hair was slightly longer than when Damien had last seen him; this had the effect of letting it flow down to just above his shoulders, delicious little half-curls forming at the ends. He was wearing the standard suit-and-tie ensemble mandated by the FBI and all its subdivisions, but someone had obviously bent the rules, because instead of the typical dark blue it was jet black with lavish gold embroidery. The suit was also a little more tailored than was standard: this meant that instead of hanging off of him like a paper bag, as Damien's was doing, it hugged his lean form and showed off his slender waist to full advantage. The man might have a face that an angel would die for, but one glance in those wicked grey eyes showed the temptations of a devil. Damien knew his mouth was hanging open, and the rest of the team also turned - and stared nearly as blatantly.

Emily bit her lip to keep from whistling and Morgan actually licked his lips slightly, his brown eyes wide with admiration. Damien couldn't quite repress an instant surge of jealous aggression, but he kept all trace of it from his expression. It was completely ridiculous to be thinking that only he had the right to look at Gerald like that - especially since he and Gerald had never even kissed.

The man in question swaggered over to their section of the bullpen with every drop of arrogance and elegance he possessed, that devilish smirk forming on his lips as his dazzling eyes locked onto Damien's. His smirk widened further.

"Vryce. You're looking well: I guess the BAU pays you more than the clergy did."

Damien was utterly floored for a moment longer, then he mentally scrambled and pulled his shattered wits together. He also noticed that his team were shooting intrigued glances from him to Gerald, and he winced inwardly: they'd be rooting for gossip by their first coffee break.

"Gerald." he said calmly, pulling on his 'tough, professional profiler' mask. "A pleasure, as always. Agent, hmm? I never thought I'd see the day you turned G-man."

The adept chuckled, eyes sparkling with pleasure at the swift comeback. "I could say the same about you, but I try to stay relatively honest these days. I should have known I'd find you here: always the incurable do-gooder, weren't you?"

"Occupational hazard of being a priest," Damien said dryly, before gesturing to the rest of his dumbstruck team. "Gerald Tarrant, meet Agents Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, and Emily Prentiss. This is Jennifer Jareau, our press liaison, and Penelope Garcia, our Working and technical analyst."

There was a chorus of rather star-struck helloes from the women, and a barely concealed come-on from Morgan, while Rossi fired off a quip about not really needing another pretty face in the BAU office. Gerald parried them all without missing a beat, clearly enjoying the exchanges, before nodding to Damien.

"If I might speak to you in your office for a moment..."

"Of course, right this way." Damien said, trying not to let his heartbeat speed up as he led the way up the stairs and ushered Gerald into his office.

The second the door closed behind the two men, the team burst into speculation. JJ was practically drooling.

"Oh, my God, do you believe it?" she gasped, her blue eyes huge. "Not only is the new guy drop-dead gorgeous, but he's got a history with D!"

"No wonder the boss man never goes on the dates we arrange for him," Garcia said with a wicked smile. "We've been setting him up with the wrong people - hell, the wrong team!"

"I don't think it would matter what gender we set him up with!" Reid said with a smile. "Who would go for a blind date with almost no probability of becoming a real relationship when you have that to daydream about?" Catching Hotch watching him with raised eyebrows, he laughed. "Oh, don't get all jealous on me, love. I was speaking hypothetically from his point of view, not mine."

Hotch chuckled and Morgan snorted. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'd say that guy's a free agent - and I know I'd like to take a shot at him!"

"Morgan!" Garcia scolded. "Don't you dare! I'd bet money that's the one the boss has been pining for - no way are you going after him, do you hear me?"

"Don't worry, baby girl, I'll play it cool." Morgan reassured her, grinning. "Besides, I'd guess D hasn't made his move yet; who knows? Maybe me making at pass at his sweetheart'll make him get his rear in gear."

Garcia blinked, and a gleam entered her eyes. "Actually, my gorgeous chocolate superhero, you may be right - and I think you've just given me a wonderful idea!"

Rossi shook his head. "You're meddlers, the lot of you." he said with weary amusement. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe the boss can handle his own love life?"

"NO!"

In his office, Damien snuck a glance between the closed blinds and shook his head in despair. "Great. They're at it already. By lunch Garcia will have dug up the old newspaper articles about my escapades and have connected you to the 'mysterious northern adept' that helped me."

Gerald was now sprawled comfortably on the couch by the window, smirking. "Discipline problems in your team, Vryce?"

"Not exactly: let's just say they aren't exactly afraid of my wrath." Damien said ruefully, moving across the room and seating himself in the armchair across from Gerald. He raked his tousled brown hair back from his face wearily, trying to ignore how the light was shimmering on Gerald's silky golden locks. "I honestly wasn't expecting to see you again, Gerald." he said softly, allowing the joking tone to fade from his voice.

Gerald also sobered, his smile softening, turning more genuine. "I know." He was silent a moment, then offered, "I meant to keep in touch - honestly. However, I... struggled for a while, finding my place in the world again. I didn't want to weigh you down."

Damien blinked. "What?"

Gerald grimaced apologetically. "I assumed you'd return to the Church - they'd have taken you back, no questions asked. You destroyed Calesta and, as far as they're concerned, eliminated the Hunter; you could have gone back. Who was I to stop you?"

Damien felt the hurt that had settled in his chest all those years ago starting to ease. He shook his head. "I thought about it, but - it wouldn't have felt right. I'm not the same person I was when I became a priest: if there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that there's no point in trying to turn back time. I became a priest because I wanted to do good in the world: after what happened, I'm not sure if that would been the way to do that anymore. Besides... there were too many memories." Seeing Gerald's brow furrowing slightly, he decided to take the plunge: if they were going to work together, they needed to clear the air. "I couldn't listen to the services anymore: the words were a little too familiar."

Gerald's eyes widened instantly as Damien's meaning struck home. It didn't take long: after all, it was Gerald himself who had written every word of those services, each sentence crafted like the finest piece of art to shape the fae in the pattern of his vision. He stared at Damien wonderingly, an odd look in his grey eyes. "I see." he breathed, a sudden wicked delight suffusing his expression. A moment later, his face was carefully schooled mask once more, but he still looked pleased. "I suppose it's a good thing, really." he said flippantly. "After all, if you had stayed a priest, our paths might not have crossed again."

Damien felt warmth suffuse his chest, and he grinned. He knew what that meant. Message received and understood, was what the adept was carefully not saying. Also, of course, the undeniable subtext: your move, Vryce. Catch me if you can.

Just great, Damien thought wryly. He finally figured out that the man of his dreams was at least amenable to his advances, just when the greatest crime of his career landed in his lap. Perfect - and oh so typical of his luck.

Shaking his head, Damien leaned back in his chair. "A very good thing, then." he said with a grin. His grin faded, though, when he thought of what he was going to say next. "Gerald, I think it's not as critical to ask this now: you being here mostly eliminates the need as far as I'm concerned, but in the interests of my duty I still have to ask. Did you do this?"

Gerald didn't bother trying to dissemble, and his expression lost all teasing at once. "No." he said quietly, his pale eyes completely serious once more. "I know what it looks like, but I swear, I had nothing to do with this murder. I've gone straight, Vryce, for real."

Damien allowed himself a relieved exhale, then grinned suddenly. "That's a relief. Much as I enjoyed baiting you in the past, I'd hate to wind up enemies again: you're a very tricky bastard when you want to be. Now, we'd better get to the conference room - you can sit in on our briefing and preliminary profile."

Gerald rose in a fluid rustle of expensive fabric, smirking once more, a hint of triumph in his grey eyes. "Whatever you wish, Vryce." he practically purred, moving out of the office ahead of Damien. The ex-priest was grateful for that, as it gave him time to swallow the flame of sudden arousal the adept's words and tone had caused. It had given him totally inappropriate images of just exactly what he could wish for from Gerald. He let himself get as far as a split second of imagining what it would be like to pin him against his desk and devour that sinfully talented mouth, before he slammed down hard on that line of thought. Not now, he told himself firmly. Perhaps after this killer was caught, though... yes, then he would definitely revisit that thought.

The team watched intently as the two men exited Damien's office and headed toward the conference room, Damien beckoning them on the way. They waited a moment, whispering under their breath as they rose from where they were sitting.

"His hair's all rumpled: it looks like he's been running his hand through it again, that usually means he's stressed." Emily hissed, eyes fixed on their Unit Chief's back.

"How long do you think it'll take before they end up in bed?" Rossi murmured with a sly twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, not you too, Dave." Hotch said, a rare smile gracing his face. "What happened to protocol?"

"I don't think Agent Tarrant gives a damn about protocol from the looks he was throwing at D earlier." Morgan commented. "I think if it's up to him, they'll be going home together tonight."

"There's one thing I don't get." JJ said thoughtfully. "I thought the boss was straight: what's up with that?"

"You know, there's actually a surprisingly high percentage of men who consider themselves straight that will have a sexual relationship with one particular man that fits their taste." Reid chipped in. "Those relationships can be extremely enduring, even it the people involved are not otherwise interested in their own gender, because the attraction actually overcomes sexual inhibitions rather than being dictated by them."

"I think that was aimed partly at you, Hotch." Emily said with a grin. Reid just smiled, and Hotch laughed as he put an arm around Reid's slim shoulders.

"Sounds like a pretty accurate statistic to me." he said fondly, kissing the top of Reid's head affectionately.

So, there you have it! The grand entrance of Gerald Tarrant! Will Damien have the nerve to pursue him? Or the willpower to resist him during the investigation? Well, since you're not the one writing this, I guess you'll just have to wait to find out! (Heh heh)