Hi Friends!

Thanks a bunch for all your kind words! I love reading your comments and I'm glad to hear that you are enjoying the story.

Please forgive any sloppy mistakes. It's late here and I wanted to post before I went to bed.

Enjoy!

After the correct locations were pinned and the real comfort zone was outlined, Reid turned and posed a question to the team, "How are we going to find an unsub that frequents clubs in order to select his next victim? Wha-what I mean, is that there is no way that he would want to stand out in the crowd or leave an impression on anyone. He'd want to stay invisible the whole time which would be easy to do in a crammed club."

"But if he was invisible than how did he find out about the brides and their weddings? He would've had to have talked to one of the women that were a part of the party," Morgan countered.

"Morgan's right, he must have talked to someone. That means that we need to interview the women that attended each party and see if they can remember any strange encounters with a man trying to pry wedding details out of them. Then we compile a list, hopefully with names, and compare it to people living in the comfort zone," Hotch said as if it was the simplest task on the planet.

"That could be at least a hundred women all together," JJ stated with an overwhelmed look on her face.

"Not to mention that their memories aren't going to be that reliable due to the amount of alcohol they probably consumed that night," West chimed in.

"Then we had better get started," the unit chief said, unmoved by the prospect of the daunting task.

It took the rest of the day to compile the list of party goers and their contact information. By the time they were ready to start calling in potential witnesses it was edging toward midnight. Regardless of the time constraint to find Megan, the team had to call it a night with the understanding that they would pick up with phone interviews in the morning.

By midafternoon the next day the profilers had a list of approximately twenty potential names. Unfortunately, not all of the men that hit on the women in the bachelorette parties gave out their phone numbers and according to Garcia some of them didn't even give their real names. Even worse was the fact that none of the men on the list were identified by multiple parties.

"This is impossible," Morgan lamented, tipping back in his chair. "I mean, do we really think any of these men are the unsub? Regardless how stupid some of the criminals we have caught turn out to be, none of them ever willing give away their contact information. I bet each one of these guys was just some horney dude trying to get laid."

"Okay, so if we go by what you're saying, maybe it was one of the men that gave a fake name," Rossi proposed. "He got his information and took off leaving no viable trail behind."

"So, how do we track down these nameless guys?" JJ asked.

"We could get the girls who remember them to meet with a sketch artist," Reid suggested.

Damien scoffed, "And then what do we do with the pictures? Put them on the news and hope that they come forward or someone turns them in?"

"Exactly, or we could take them to the clubs and ask around to see if anyone recognizes them," Reid quickly responded.

"Both options will take too long and he won't be out tonight. He'll be with his newest prize," West countered.

Hotch held up his hand, stopping the argument. "While Reid's idea does not hold much promise, it's the only one we have right now. Unless you have something else in mind, Agent West."

Taken aback by Hotch's straightforward question, Damien sputtered, "I-I…uh…no."

"Alright then, we will – "

"Wait!" West said suddenly, missing the look of annoyance on Hotch's face at his graceless interruption.

"Yes?"

"I was just thinking. There is one person at the club that could easily find out about the bride without seeming suspicious."

"And who is that?" Morgan asked.

"The D.J."

"The D.J.?" Reid asked with a furrowed brow.

He tsked his tongue and said, "You don't get out much, do you?"

The genius opened his mouth, intent on defending himself, when the unit chief cut him off, "Why would the D.J. know anything about the bride?"

JJ, understanding where West was headed answered for him, "Because someone in the bridal party always goes up to the D.J. to get a song played that's dedicated to the bride."

"And?"

"And…he always asks for specifics about the bride, like her name, when the wedding is and stuff," she explained.

"And most D.J. booths are at the perfect vantage point in the club to observe the dance floor. If the bride was shamelessly flirting with different men, he would see it," Damien added, not pleased with JJ stealing his thunder.

"Yeah but if he announces the information that he garners from the bride's friends than everyone in the club is privy to the details," Morgan said, pointing out a flaw in the man's idea.

"True…I didn't think of that," West said slightly disheartened.

"Anyways, there are ten different clubs on the list. How could they all have the same D.J.?" Reid added.

"I don't know…but West's idea is feasible. I don't think we should ignore it. How about we split up? I'll work with West and JJ on the D.J. angle and you three work on finding the men on the list," Rossi cleverly propositioned.

"I agree. Morgan, Reid let's get started on hunting down the witnesses and getting them in here to meet with the sketch artist." Hotch looked to Rossi, "We'll check back in with you in a few hours."

Around seven o'clock the team hadn't made much headway, both groups coming up nearly empty handed. Upon further research, Rossi's group found out that each of the clubs had only one D.J. on staff, and none of them had fired anyone recently.

Hotch's team also ran into a brick wall when it came to the sketches. It turned out most of the women were too intoxicated and the clubs were too dark for them to give descriptions with enough details of the men they remembered flirting with that night.

Reid, who currently found himself waiting for the team's order at a local coffee shop, was frustrated and slightly disjointed at the lack of progress the team had made. He let out a huff of air as he turned to look over the local bulletin board that was on the wall by the counter. His eyes danced over papers spotting a few help wanted ads, a kitten for sale and an advertisement for a creepy looking clown that specialized in birthdays. He cringed at the last one, having never found the idea of strange men in crazy wigs with big expressions painted on their faces endearing.

It was his abhorrence of the modern day jesters almost caused him to miss a flyer for one of the clubs that they had been researching. The nightclub Seven was proudly advertising their retro night, blatantly touting the appearance of a guest D.J. named Grind-Man Slam. The genius tore the advertisement down off the board in one quick pull, picked up the coffee and sprinted out the door.

He make record time back to the station, spilling coffee everywhere in his mad dash. He flung the door of the conference room open and panted out while gasping for breath, "Wha…what…about…a…guest…D.J.?

The five heads in the room bobbed up from their focused positions and took in the heaving genius drenched in caffeine.

"Come again," Morgan asked, getting up to grab the precariously clutched coffee trays from Reid's hands.

"This!" he exclaimed waving the flyer. "I spotted this while I was waiting for our coffee order. What if the clubs had a guest D.J. the nights the bachelorette parties were occurring?"

JJ's eyes went wide, "You know, that just might be it. Tons of clubs have themed nights."

"Good eye, Reid. Get on the phone with Garcia and have her find out if there were guest D.J.s the night of the bachelorette parties. The rest of us will try to keep whittling down the list of men that the women identified," Hotch ruled, turning back to the table.

The genius set off to work, oblivious of the seething stare he was receiving from the newest agent.

"Garcia?"

"What up, Boy Wonder?"

"I need you to look up whether or not the bars the brides went to the night of their parties had guest D.J.s. If so, we need to figure out if it was the same one at each event," he explained, covering his exposed ear with one hand in order to hear her better over his colleagues.

"I'll try, but I'm not sure that the clubs will have that information online. It depends on whether or not they have an archaic website or if they ever bother to update it. Look, I'll hit ya up in a few and let you know. TTYL!"

The youngest profiler pocketed his phone and went to join the others. As he approached the table he noticed that the only open seat was next to West and he was hesitant to take it. He didn't want to deal with the man's standoffish attitude any more than he already had on this case.

Sucking it up and deciding that he wouldn't let the narrow-minded man dictate his life, Reid pulled out the chair and plopped down. The other man immediately scooted his chair a few extra inches away from the genius and said, "Did your theory not pan out?"

"Garcia's looking into it as we speak," he said shortly, grabbing one of the files splayed out in front of him.

"If it had been my idea, I would have been doing my own dirty work," Damien criticized.

"Yes, well, it wasn't and you would be a fool not to utilize Garcia at any chance you get. She is amazing at her job and she can research things faster than any of us here with just a stroke of her pinky finger," Reid refuted.

West was about to respond to Reid's sharp remark when he looked up and noticed the other profilers at the table staring at him. He cleared his throat, trying to come up with something to say that would excuse his behavior, but chose to dip his head back down and concentrate on the paper in front of him instead.

Reid's phone chirped to life not too long after the acerbic exchange. Since he everyone was in the room he answered the call, putting it on speaker for all to hear, "Garcia? Did you find anything?"

"Aw, sweet cheeks, when have you ever known me to come up empty?"

"Garcia, what did you find?" Hotch's voice called out, putting an end to the cute banter.

"Oh sir, I had to make a few phone calls due to the fact that some of these clubs are in the dark ages when it comes to their websites. I mean really, with all the technology that we have at our fingertips today you would think they could come up with something better than a one page spread with broken links. All they would have to do is –"

"Garcia."

"Ah, sorry. Um, anyways, I had to call up a few of the owners and talk to them but I did find out that four of the clubs had a guest D.J. the night our brides frequented. Oh and to answer your next question, yes. Each of the four clubs was one visited by a particular bride the night of her party. Megan went to Déjà vu, Chloe visited the Emerald Ballroom, Kylee enjoyed the Bicycle Club, and Hannah partied at The Vault. The others on the lists were just additional night clubs that were visited when the brides went bar hopping."

"So, did they have the same guest D.J. on their theme nights?" Rossi asked.

"Oh, I didn't say that already? Hm, I guess I didn't. Uh, yes! The each contracted out the same man to help their patrons get their themed night party on."

"A name Baby Girl?" Morgan called out, trying to harness her exuberance.

"Antonio Blevins."

"Garcia, his address?" Reid demanded as he jumped up to check the map.

The effervescent blonde trilled out an address that was immediately pinpointed on the map. "Guys, he's right in the middle of the comfort zone."

Not needing to be told twice the team jumped out of their seats and started moving.

"Alright, we don't have enough evidence to arrest him, but we can bring him in for questioning. Morgan, Rossi, Reid come with me. West and JJ, stay here and prepare a room. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Damien watched as the four men rushed out of the conference room with an air of calm urgency surrounding them. Jealousy oozed out of his every pore, knowing that the kid had taken the spotlight off of him and was banking from his idea. Tilting back in his seat he admitted to himself that the good doctor seemed more difficult to crack than he had anticipated. He needed something more drastic to shake up the kid's confidence, which in turn would affect the boy's ability to work. He just wasn't sure what would do the trick…yet.

The team were back home by one in the morning. It turned out that Antonio Blevins was the unsub and he had decided to go down in a blaze of glory when the profilers arrived to bring him in for questioning. Hotch though was able to get in a shoulder shot, disarming the man and robbing him of his death by cop. Reid and Rossi searched the house while the others saw to Antonio and found Megan in the basement with a noose around her neck and her hands tied behind her back. Luckily, Antonio hadn't strung her up high enough to kill her yet. Apparently he liked to strangulate his victims slowly, pulling the rope an inch higher every hour, giving her time to think about her promiscuity.

It was found out later that Antonio's trigger had been his own ex-girlfriend's unfaithfulness, which he discovered one night out on a job. Having been so hurt by her adulterous deeds, the man set out to protect others from the same issue. Hence, whenever he saw a flirtatious bride throwing herself at random men at the bar his anger flared up and caused him to hunt her down.

High off of the success and eager to take advantage of a Friday night, Morgan decided to rally the troops for a quick celebration before the bars shut down. He had already rounded up Garcia, JJ, and Savannah and was now moving on to the two men down in the bullpen.

"So West, you care to join us in loosening up? We could celebrate you making it through your first week and your first case," Morgan asked, sitting on the man's desk while he packed up to head home.

West, seeing a great opportunity to integrate himself better with his coworkers was quick to answer, "Sure. I wouldn't mind taking in a few drinks."

"Excellent! Pretty Boy, you in?"

Reid, who was fully entrenched in the paperwork covering his desk, looked up at his friend and simply said, "I think I'll pass."

"Come on. You saved the day with your brilliant connection. That in itself deserves a drink," Morgan prodded.

The doctor's eyes traveled from his friend to Damien's, "I don't think it's a good idea. Anyways, you know I don't drink."

Morgan followed the Reid's line of sight and swore he could feel the tension building up between the two agents.

"Let's get going Morgan. The bars are only going to be open for another hour and I don't know about you but I intend to fit a few beers in before they close. See you on Monday, Dr. Reid," West said, grabbing his bag and making his way to the elevator where the girls were waiting.

The muscular agent crinkled his forehead at the harshness in the new agent's voice, "You want to tell me what's going on between you two?"

"It's nothing Morgan. Just go and have fun," the genius said, avoiding the question.

"This isn't over. I'll call you tomorrow," the man stated before he turned and walked away.

The lanky youth didn't respond to Morgan's threat and turned back to his work. He had just gotten his desk straightened up when he heard Hotch's voice.

"Reid, do you have a minute?" the man asked from his office door.

Realizing that his boss wanted to have their discussion tonight before they both went home for the weekend, the young agent reluctantly said, "I'll be right up."

He took his time, packing his satchel and gathering his thoughts, before he headed up the stairs. The doctor entered the man's office without knocking and saw that his superior was already perched behind his desk waiting his arrival.

"Have a seat," the stoic man said, waving at the leather chair across from him.

"I'd rather stand."

Hotch gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Reid, there are a few things that we need to talk about."

The genius started pacing behind the chair, "Look, Hotch, if this is about what you heard yesterday –"

"Reid, stop," he ordered. "Sit down and listen. I'll give you a chance to talk when I'm through."

Surprised at his boss's tone, the younger man quickly followed orders.

"Reid in all the years we've worked together I have only witnessed your temper four times, not counting yesterday. I know that it takes quite a bit to push you to that point and that you would never flaunt your superiority over another without some sort of trigger. So I'm asking you to tell me what caused that speech."

"I…uh…took offense to something that Agent West said to me," Reid said vaguely.

"Which was?"

"I'd rather not discuss that. It was between the two of us and it's over now," he said, trying to shut down Hotch's line of questioning.

"Alright, well then I've have to ask you what you think happened with the geographic profile yesterday."

"I told you. He gave me a slip of paper with all the addresses written on it. I looked at it, put it down on the table and pinned the locations."

"So then you're alleging that he gave you false addresses initially. What about the piece of paper you handed me later on with the correct ones?" he asked.

Reid bit his lip and looked down at his hands, "It wasn't the same sheet that he handed me earlier."

"Are you going on the record stating that Agent West intentionally deceived you which in turn messed up the profile?" the man questioned sternly.

"Yes, I believe he did."

"What about your head injury?"

"What?"

"You sustained a head injury on the flight to Miami. Is it possible that your injury affected your memory?"

"I-I don't think so," Reid said, touching the wound on his head. "I haven't experienced any other symptoms and it doesn't seem like serious injury."

"Yes, but we didn't get it checked out by a professional. If we bring up accusations against West he could claim that you were out of sorts due to a possible mild concussion," Hotch said, leaning forward to get a good look at his subordinate.

"But I have an eidetic memory. I know that read those addresses correctly the first time."

"Yes, but even your memory is susceptible to damage from an injury. Now I'm not saying that I believe you had some type of miniscule memory issues due to that minor bump but I am saying that West could argue against your accusation."

Frustrated, Reid let out a low growl, "I know what I saw."

"I believe you. But that's not the issue…we would have to prove without a doubt that he knowingly impaired out investigation and I don't think that we can. Besides your head wound there was the other piece of paper that he could sight as evidence. The whole team saw it and you couldn't produce the original one that you went by."

"So you're saying that we have to keep someone on the team that is blatantly damaging our investigations and putting innocent lives in danger? That's rich! He's a probationary agent, just let him go and say that he didn't mesh well with the team," Reid said vehemently.

"First, we don't have concrete evidence of that. But rest assured that Rossi and I will be keeping a close eye on him and looking for any other signs of deceit. The other issue is that he is getting along with everyone else. It seems that you are the only one he's taken an exception to. At the moment, that is not enough to let him go. Now, if it's still occurring by the time he reaches the end of his probationary period than that's another story. According to the bureau protocol I have to give him a fair chance to prove himself. After sixty days if he is still not complementing our team then I can pass on him," Hotch stated matter-of-factly. "So, I'm asking you now, can you work amicably with the man for the rest of his trial run?"

Annoyed that there didn't seem to be any other option, Reid answered, "I can be professional."

Hotch sighed, "That's not what I'm asking. I need our team to work cohesively and I'm not sure it can if you two have a wall built between you. So, do you think you can stop provoking him by rising to his challenges and focus on what is important?"

Incredulous that Hotch was questioning his work ethic, Reid forced out between clenched teeth "Yes, sir. If you haven't forgotten I was a child prodigy that attended high school with kids six years my senior. I put up with all sorts of bullying and still managed to graduate as valedictorian. I believe that I have proven over and over again that I can work with aggressive personalities. So yeah, I can handle anything that West throws at me and still work flawlessly with the team. I'm just amazed that you actually asked me that. Apparently you don't know me as well as you claim."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that you said earlier that you've worked with me for over ten years and you've only seen my temper four times. Might I ask, how many times have you seen me act unprofessionally with anyone on this team or the local law enforcement? Why now all of a sudden are you doubting my behavior? Why did you even have to ask? It's just like high school actually. All the teachers and principals knew what type of student I was and knew the other kids were tormenting me. Yet they told me to stop antagonizing the bullies and excused their actions against me. And you know what? I never once went out of my way to garner anyone's attention. I only provoked them after I was already in too deep for it to make a difference, sometimes it was just too hard to guard my tongue while they beat the shit out of me. It's funny, I never expected to run into that kind of thing again. And I really never thought that you would essentially be playing the role of my former principal. Now, if that's all, I think I'm going to head home," Reid said heatedly before jumping out of his chair and leaving a speechless unit chief in his wake.

Aaron could only stare dumbfounded at his doorway wondering when he lost control over the conversation.

"Knock knock," Rossi said sliding sleekly through the open door. "I take it your talk didn't go as well as planned."

Hotchner shook his head from side to side, "No, it didn't. It started off alright. I told him that I knew that Damien must have incited his behavior yesterday. He admitted that he had taken offense at something the other man said but he refused to tell me what. Anyways, from there we went on to discuss the geographic profile. Reid maintains that West gave him fake addresses on a different piece of paper."

"Do you believe him?"

"Of course I do!"

"But?"

"But there is no evidence, especially since he suffered a head wound on our flight out and the original sheet of paper is missing," Hotch said despondently.

"So what now?"

"Well I have to follow protocol and allow Agent West to work with us for his whole probationary period. But based upon the concerns you've already brought to my attention and the things we've observed over the course of the case I am hesitant to take him out into the field again."

"Okay, so we keep him in the office and ride out the next fifty-five days as smoothly as we can," Rossi suggested.

"It doesn't work like that Dave and you know it. We've got to give him the opportunity to show off his skills. Only, that doesn't mean that you or I can't keep a close watch on him. We will be accompanying him wherever he goes."

"And what about Reid?"

Hotch shook his head, "I pissed him off when I told him that as of right now there was no tangible evidence to support dismissing West from the team. And…and then I asked him if he would be able to work harmoniously with the team for the duration of West's try out."

Rossi sharply sucked in some air through his teeth. "I'm sure he didn't take that well."

"Well, you saw his exit."

"That I did."

The unit chief ran his right hand through his hair, "I hope I didn't just ruin the years of trust I had built up with him."

"Well, if it was anybody else I would say to give them time. But Reid's different…it's going to take more than that to heal this wound," Rossi said sagely.

"I know…"

The party of profilers were all seated around a table at the local 24 hour diner. They had just gotten done drinking their stress away and decided to top off the night with some greasy sustenance.

"Morgan! My chocolate god of thunder….order me some chili cheese fries and mozzarella sticks, I've gotta use the potty," Garcia slurred as she pushed back her chair. "You girls coming?"

JJ immediately popped up out of her seat, "Of course! Can't let you go by yourself."

"You coming Vanny?"

"Vanny?" Savannah asked.

"Yeah, I haven't come up with a good nickname for you yet," Garcia admitted. "But don't worry, when I do, you will be amazed."

"I'm already honored. And yeah…I'm coming too. Do me a favor and order for me too, chocolate thunder," she said with a shimmering smirk on her lips.

"Aw, I see how it is," Morgan called after the girls with a lighthearted grin on his face.

Damien smiled at the playful banter and turned to Derek, "Why is it they always go in groups?"

"I don't know man…but it never fails." The darker agent's face suddenly lost its happy appearance and took on a more serious one, "Hey, I've gotta ask you a question."

"Shoot."

"What is your problem with Reid?"

West, who had been expecting this question to come up sometime, answered carefully, "We didn't really hit it off on Monday. Since then the animosity has been brewing."

"And what about you antagonizing him?"

"What do you mean?"

"JJ told me about how you were outright critical of him yesterday when discussing the bachelorette parties," Morgan stated with a slight bite to his voice.

"Well, I've been known to get pretty intense when on a case. He just happened to be on the receiving end of it," West said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Well, I'm telling you here and now that you need to back off. Because if you mess with my boy, you mess with me. And I won't stand for you putting him down and causing him grief. Do. You. Get. Me?"

West, surprised by the intensity in Morgan's voice, scooted his chair back from the table, "I get you. I never meant for it to get like this. I tried a few different times to start fresh with him but he just brushed me off. Look, on Monday I'll try to bury the hatchet with the kid."

Morgan processed the words and softened his tone a bit, "Well, Reid can be hard to get through to. He doesn't trust easily. You have to earn it with him. Just let him see the real you, the one I hung out with tonight. He'll start to come around."

"Who will come around?" JJ asked, suddenly appearing at the table with the rest of the girls.

"Don't worry about it ladies," Morgan said. "Well, what did you girls gossip about?"

"Oooooohhhh! Did you know that your chocolate pudding, yeah Savannah that's your nickname, did you know that she is afraid of spiders? There was one in her bathroom stall and she flipped out! Screaming and squealing until she got the door unlocked. She had tears running down her face and I swear she was going to have a panic attack."

"Garcia!"

"Sorry, but it was too funny to keep between us."

"Is that so, puddin?" Derek asked impishly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Yes," she admitted, pushing his arm away. "I am deathly afraid of spiders."

"Oh, this is going to be fun," he teased.

"Come on! I can't be the only one here afraid of spiders."

"Oh but you are," JJ chimed in. "But don't worry, I'm afraid of the woods. They're all dark and spooky. You never know what's lurking in them."

"And I have a phobia of stickers!" Garcia said, her words all garbled.

"Stickers? I never knew that baby girl."

"Yeah well, they creep me out," she shuddered. "They stick to you, make a disgusting sound when you try to peel them back, and they always leave behind bits of paper you can never remove. Ooooohhhh, I hate them."

"I hate heights," Damien supplied, interjecting himself into the conversation. "What about you Derek? What are you afraid of?"

"Me? Well, I used to be afraid of the dark –"

"Reid still is," JJ blurted out.

"What?" West asked.

"Yeah, a few years ago we were on a case having this same conversation and Reid admitted that he was still afraid of the dark," she explained.

"JJ, I don't think he would appreciate you telling everyone about that," Derek admonished. The agent quickly turned his eyes onto Damien to gauge his reaction. He wasn't too surprised to see the other man's face remaining passive and unaffected by the information, but it didn't take a profiler to catch the faint glimmer that seemed to sparkle in his eyes. He felt a pit developing deep in his stomach and knew that he was going to have to warn Reid about JJ accidentally spilling his secret.

"Huh? Yeah, you're probably right. He's always been private like that. Everybody, forget I mentioned it."

Unfortunately, the damage had already been done and the bubbly blonde had given West all the ammo he needed to continue on his path of tormenting the genius.

BTW...I always try to add a little nugget of myself in these stories and Garcia's fear of stickers is totally my own. Like she said they stick to everything and peeling them up is the worst. I know, I'm a little crazy but hey, thought you might get a good laugh at that.

Take Care!