Hi Friends!

Happy Labor Day Weekend! I hope you all get to rest up and enjoy the holiday.

Thanks for reviewing, reading, following, and favoriting the story! I wasn't able to respond to your lovely reviews this time due to the fact that I am now back to work. Hence the longer span between chapters too. Anyways, I hope you are still enjoying the tale. This chapter isn't very exciting but I've got things up my sleeve for future installments.

Please forgive my poor editing skills.

Enjoy!

Spencer heard the door to Hotch's office close with a thud. Based on the heavy trudging footsteps he figured that Agent West's talk with their supervisor must not have gone very well. Knowing that the other man was probably in a bad mood, the genius kept his head down and continued to work one the file that was spread out before him.

The chair across the way from his squeaked as the other agent's heavy load sat down to rest in the well-worn leather. Out of the corner of his eye, Reid could see that West was lost in thought. He knew that whatever had gone on in that office had more than likely involved him and he wasn't too keen on finding out how Damien handled it. So the younger man refocused his thought pattern and allowed himself to become lost in his work.

It wasn't until hours later that he looked up and that was due to West calling out, "Do you want a refill?"

Reid blinked his eyes as if he was coming out of a trance and looked over to the other agent. "Huh?"

"Your coffee. I noticed that you drained the cup I got you about an hour ago. Do you want me to get you some more?"

"Oh…uh…y-you don't have to do that," he said, stumbling over his words.

"I know I don't have to, but I offered anyways," Damien retorted with a sweet smile.

"Alright," was all Spencer said, turning back to his work.

A few minutes later a steaming mug of caffeine found its way back to his desk courtesy of one Damien West. Reid looked up at him, surprised that the man gone out of his way to use Reid's favorite mug, and said, "Thank you."

"No problem. We are teammates after all."

Reid just gave a hum of acknowledgement. He took a sip of the hot beverage and was pleased to find that yet again Agent West had added just the right amount of cream and sugar. Unfortunately, while the drink was sweet, the profiler's thoughts had turned sour.

What had caused this sudden swing in personality? Sure, he figured that Hotch had probably reprimanded the guy for his behavior on the last case, but that was just this morning. Damien had already bought him a coffee long before his talk with their supervisor. Was it Morgan? Did he say something to the other agent? His friend had admitted to talking to him on Friday night. How intense was the conversation? In the end, was this man truly trying to reach out to the genius or was he just trying to save face in front of the other profilers?

"You know, if you keep staring at me I might do tricks," West said wryly, startling Reid out of his thoughts.

"What?"

The pudgy agent held up his hands as if to calm the young man down. "It's a joke. You've been staring at me since I brought back the coffee."

"I have? Oh…I'm sorry. Sometimes I get a little…uh…lost in my head," he apologized sheepishly.

"It's no problem, really. It happens to me all the time."

Reid started to turn back toward his desk when Garcia's shrill voice rang out from the round table room, "League of Extraordinary Profilers unite!"

Agent West glanced up at the bright orange ball of energy and said, "I take it we have a case."

"Yeah…we better get up there before she uses our nicknames in front of the whole office."

Damien pulled a fake frown, "What? You don't want everyone hearing her call you a mushy little sweet pea?"

Reid chortled at the man's comment and followed him up the stairs to the conference room.

"So someone is managing to bump into random strangers on the street and inject them with a poison without them even knowing? How? I mean…if someone poked me with a needle I would know it," Garcia stated in disbelief.

"You're right sweetness, normally you would feel something so obvious. But the unsub is distracting the victims by injuring them more severely elsewhere," Morgan postulated.

"That's why Emily Speer had a broken toe, Haley Lamar's knees are scraped up, and Keyaira Brightwell suffered from a concussion. The unsub must have either tripped them or pushed them down, effectively diverting their attention from the injection she administered to the flesh of their bicep," Spencer explained, swiveling in his chair.

"Why do you think the unsub is a female?" Damien asked.

"Because more often than not poison is the M.O. of a female unsub. It's neat and tidy. A poisoned victim doesn't leave much of a mess behind. We've found out over the years that women like for things to be nice and orderly, even when they are committing a crime," Reid described in a textbook manner.

"That and the poison of choice was a mixture of potassium hydroxide which is a major ingredient in cuticle remover," Hotch cut in before the genius could go off on a long rant describing the rest of the characteristics of a poisoner. "Alright, we'll discuss the rest on the flight to El Paso. Wheels up in thirty."

It took the team a little over six hours to complete the trip to Texas, so it was well into the afternoon when they arrived at the station. Hotch had already assigned everyone to their jobs and the profilers wasted no time in getting right to work.

As usual Reid was confined to the conference room the local police had set aside for the FBI agents. He was busy sticking different colored flags into the map and analyzing it with a critical eye. Behind him sat Damien rifling through the files trying to find some connection between the victims.

The two men had been working noiselessly at their respective tasks for a couple of hours. The silence was no longer tense like down in Miami. Rather, it fostered a comfortable atmosphere that was typical of focused coworkers. Anyone walking in the room would have never guessed that just three days ago the two agents had been at odds against each other.

The peaceful environment mood was shattered when Reid finally stepped away from the map and flopped himself down in a chair at the head of the table.

Damien looked up at the genius and watched as he pushed his Styrofoam mug back and forth between his hands. "What's wrong?"

The coffee cup stopped its journey in Reid's right hand as the profiler looked up at his coworker. "I couldn't discern a pattern from the given points of data."

"Yeah…so? Isn't that normal when we have so little to go on?"

Spencer hung his head glumly and said, "Yes, it is."

"So…why are you acting like someone kicked your puppy?"

"I don't have a puppy. In fact, I've never had a pet. How can I look like someone with an injured animal if I've never experienced it?" Reid asked with a perplexed look.

An exasperated sigh emitted from West's mouth, "Dude, it's a figure of speech."

"Oh…yeah…I knew that," Spencer muttered, clearly embarrassed at missing the meaning of such a simple expression.

"So?"

"So what?"

"So why are you upset with the lack of a developing pattern? I mean...I know you're a genius, but even you can't make something out of nothing," Damien implored with a look of concern, despite his inward cringe at how caring he was coming off in this conversation.

Reid's chair scraped across the tile floor as he stood up and turned back toward the map. "Because with this job the only way to get more data by getting more victims."

Realization dawned on the other profiler, "Ah…I guess I didn't think of it that way." He then got up and stood behind the other agent, trying to see if he could spot a pattern that the genius might have missed.

"That really sucks," he continued. "We have to wait for someone else to die just to narrow down the profile," Damien said, actually feeling bad for the unnamed woman out there who was unwittingly going to suffer.

"Yeah...sucks…," echoed Reid as he twisted around and flash Damien a strained smile.

West, in an effort to build a better rapport with the kid, put his hand on the boy's bony shoulder and squeezed it in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He felt a flinch spirit through the genius's body the moment his hand made contact. He quickly pulled away and turned to walk back to his seat, relishing in the fact that the other profiler gave him another piece of information to file away for his future use.

Throughout the evening the rest of the team trickled in from completing their respective tasks. The new information had been shared, discussed and added to the evidence boards. Unfortunately, it lead them nowhere.

The team was clearly frustrated and showing signs of exhaustion after such a long day.

"Alright, we're going to call it a night. We need to get some rest and come back refreshed tomorrow."

No one said anything against Hotch's decision. It was one of his common commands and they all knew there would be no arguing with the supervisory special agent.

The agents quickly cleaned up the paper that had been strewn across the table and discarded the trash from their carry-out dinners. They then filed out of the conference room and into the two SUVs that were at their disposal.

It didn't take very long to drive to the local motel and soon the group found themselves standing in the lobby. Hotch, who was in charge of checking in, walked up to the front desk and conferred with the owner. In a matter of minutes he was back among the profilers handing out room assignments. He handed JJ her own key then tossed one at Rossi and the other at West. "Morgan you're with Dave and Reid you'll be bunking with West."

A wide-eyed expression covered Morgan's face, "Uh…Hotch…"

"Not now Morgan. Everybody get some rest. We need to be back at the station by seven."

Hotch didn't wait for any response before he started off down the hallway. Morgan, upset about the room arrangements, ran after the man and stopped him before he opened the door to his room.

"Hotch, I don't think that Reid should be paired with Damien," Morgan stated, not in the mood for cushioning his concern.

"Morgan, it's imperative that the two of them learn how to work together. They need to be comfortable in each other's presence. Rooming together is a good push in that direction. Besides, they seem to be settling their differences. They worked all day together at the station and they were fine, no incidents," the man explained as he slipped his keycard into the slot.

"I know that they need to get along, but I don't like it Hotch," Derek started. "I mean, just a few days ago West was going out of his way to antagonize Reid. Now…all of a sudden…he's his friend? People don't change that fast." That and the man knew about the kid's aversion to the dark. Who knew what type of night was in store for Reid? Morgan found himself torn between telling Hotch and keeping Spencer's fear a secret. His thoughts were interrupted by his friend's next comment.

"They do when their job is at stake," Hotch said cryptically as entered his room. The stern man turned around and met his subordinate's eyes.

"You…uh...oh," the dark agent muttered in realization. "You discussed this with both of them?"

"Morgan, you know I can't disclose the content of our conversations to you."

"Yeah…I know," he said in defeat. "Well, I still don't like it. I think it's too soon."

"Noted. Now go get some sleep," he said shutting the door on the conversation.

Reid wasn't surprised by the room assignments. He knew that this was Hotch's way of forcing the two agents to work on their relationship. He looked over to Damien as their boss walked down the opposite hallway with Morgan trailing after him. He was sure that Derek was going to lodge a formal protest over this new development, just like he knew that Hotch wasn't going to change his mind.

Damien, also cognizant of his boss's manipulation met the genius's gaze, "Come on. It's this way."

Spencer trudged behind the probationary agent while he pondered the situation. He wasn't worried about the way they would interact when the door closed. Based on how they collaborated back at the police station when no one was around them the waters should stay calm. No, what he was really worried about was falling asleep. Because while he and Damien may have reached an amicable agreement, he wasn't going to run out and tell the man one of his deepest fears. Hopefully if he played his cards right he could get away with keeping the curtain cracked allowing some semblance of light to creep in.

When they opened the door a feeling of disgust passed through both men. The room was a small decrepit shell of what was probably once a popular roadside inn. The wallpaper was worn and yellowed making the red flower bouquets seem sallow. The bedspreads on the two double-beds matched the color of the walls, though they were faded and riddled with cigarette burns. The room smelled acrid and stale, a testament to holes in the blankets and the amount of time spent cleaning the rooms.

"Couldn't the FBI spring for a better place? I mean, our accommodations in Miami were ten times better than this," Damien said with a chuckle, dropping his go-bag on the first bed.

Reid gave a half-hearted laugh, "It depends on who's booking the room. You can tell this wasn't Garcia's choice. She would have a meltdown if she knew we were being put up in such a lackluster environment."

"I bet she would," the man said, sorting through his bag and pulling out his pajamas.

Clearing his throat, Reid ventured, "Do you want the shower first?"

"What? Oh, no…I'm a morning guy. I'll do it first thing tomorrow. You can go for it."

"Are you sure? We might get a call in the middle of the night calling us back in. You might not have time to shower."

"I'm too tired to worry about that right now. I think I'll take the risk. Just let me use the bathroom real quick and then you can have at it," Damien said, shutting the door behind him.

The genius set about rummaging through his bag for his toiletries and nightclothes. He could hear the water running in the sink as West brushed his teeth. He was sure that the other man wouldn't be coming out for a few minutes so he went over to the window and he set about playing with the curtains. As he analyzed the window dressings he was pleasantly surprised to find two sets of shades, one for decoration and one to block the sunlight. He pushed the blockers all the way back and drew the decorative ones closed. It worked perfectly to provide the privacy they needed while allowing the moonlight to filter into the room through the thin fabric.

The door behind him creaked open and West's voice called out, "It's all yours."

Skittering away from the window, Reid grabbed his things and wordlessly retreated to the bathroom. Once he was in there he turned the water on as hot as it would go and stripped down to his boxers. He didn't want to get completely bare until the water was up to temperature. He brushed his teeth quickly while he intermittently stuck his hand in and out of the water to see if it was ready. The motel's hot water heater must have been at the other end of the building because it took forever for the shower to heat up. When it was finally ready he shimmied out of his underwear and hopped into the tub.

The stream of water was disappointing to say the least. The clear liquid seemed to be coming out of the nozzle at a trickle and it was barely warm. There was absolutely no water pressure and Reid was pretty sure that by the time he was done he would feel just as dirty as he did when he got in.

Frustrated, he rushed through his cleaning ritual and turned off the water, the pipes groaning as their exertion came to an end. The genius pushed the plastic curtain out of the way and grabbed one of the tiny cloths this place considered a bath towel. He tried wrapping it around his body and found that it barely covered his frame, so he ended up just mopping up the moisture instead.

As he wiped the droplets of water off his pale skin he felt the exhaustion from the day start to steal its way through his system. He was more than ready for bed but if the bathroom was any indication of the quality of the accommodations he wasn't really looking forward to sleeping on the mattress.

It took only a few more minutes for him to complete his routine and gather up his clothes. He turned out the light in the bathroom before opening the door. As quietly as he could he pushed the door open and was met with a pitch black wall. The profiler blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the moonlight, but they never did.

He felt his heartbeat speeding up when he realized that the pale light had been snuffed out. Damien must have closed the other curtains, cutting off the only available illumination.

Knowing that he couldn't stand frozen in the bathroom doorway all night, Reid placed his free hand on the wall and started to inch his way out. He had made it about three steps before his foot found something to get caught up on. He ended up falling to the floor with a loud thump, sending his belongings sprawling across the floor.

The lamp between the beds flicked on and Damien said groggily, "Are you alright?"

"Uh…yeah. I tripped over the luggage stand," Reid said self-consciously as he reached for his things. "I didn't see it in the dark."

"Oh, sorry. I pulled the curtains shut before I went to bed. I can't sleep with any light in the room. I've been like that since I was a kid," the probationary agent explained while he sat up in bed. "You don't mind, do you?"

Reid hesitated at the man's question, "I…uh…no, it's fine. I just need the light on until I get into bed."

"Okay, cool."

As he pushed himself up off the floor Spencer looked over at the other man getting comfortable under the covers. He heard a content sigh come from West as he turned his back on the light and shut his eyes tight. The genius swallowed the lump in his throat knowing that it was going to be a long night filled with tossing, turning, and nightmares.

Damien woke up to the tittering of the alarm clock reverberating through the small room. He rolled over onto his back and smacked the off button. Moaning, he stretched out his arms and arched his back off the mattress. After he was done waking up his limbs he turned over and looked at his roommate. He wasn't surprised to note that the younger man's eyes were wide open and alert with dark bags surrounding them.

"You awake?" he asked unnecessarily.

The kid slowly blinked his eyes and turned his head. A hoarse, "Yeah," was his only response.

"I'm going to go shower. Do you need the bathroom first?"

"No."

"Okay…are you alright?" he asked with fake concern.

The boy's long limbs pushed himself up off his back and he set his feet on the floor. "I'm fine. I just didn't sleep very well."

"Yeah, me too. The mattress was terrible and the pillows were too damn flat," Damien commented, knowing that the bedding wasn't what had kept the brat up all night long. "Oh well, I'll make some coffee in that little pot in the bathroom. Hopefully that will help to wake us up."

Reid managed to give him a feeble smile of acknowledgement.

Pleased with how out of it the kid seemed, Damien started whistling a cheerful tune as he got himself ready for the day.

The team had gathered in the lobby once again before heading off to the station. They were about to head out to get a light breakfast when the police chief called Hotch and informed him that another victim had turned up last night. With all thoughts of food abandoned the team broke up into their respective groups; Morgan, JJ, and Rossi heading off to interview the victim's family and Hotch, West and Reid heading back to the station.

"I want you two to drop me off and then go to the coroner's office. See if there is anything we can garner from the bodies that the previous investigators may have missed," Hotch instructed from the passenger seat after he hung up his phone with the M.E.

West, who was helming the SUV, nodded his head, "Sure thing."

Ten minutes later their supervisor was out of the car and Reid was getting into the passenger seat. The genius was out of sorts, needing more than motel coffee to get his body up and running at maximum strength.

Damien noticed the boy's sluggish movements and decided it was time for the next step in his plan. He pulled into a local strip mall and parked the car.

The genius, realizing that they had stopped, looked over to the man, "What are we doing here? The M.E.'s over on State Street."

"I know but I have a headache. I'm going to run into the drug store and grab some aspirin."

Reid frowned, he wasn't comfortable with deviating from Hotch's orders.

Detecting the kid's discomfort, West continued, "Hey. Tell ya what…I'll stop and grab some coffee from the diner next door before I come back. You just stay here and relax. Don't take this the wrong way but you really look like you need the extra caffeine."

"Alright, but make sure it's a large coffee," Reid agreed, leaning his head against the window and closing his eyes.

"Deal," he said as he got out and shut the door.

It didn't take him long to run into the pharmacy and grab exactly what he needed. The older man paid for his purchase and walked over to the diner, smiling when he caught a glimpse of the young man resting in the vehicle.

The diner was almost empty, the breakfast rush had yet to hit. He went up to the counter and ordered two large coffees and sat back waiting for the waitress to fulfill his order. She pushed the to-go cups across the counter and Damien started fixing them up with the accoutrements that had been set out for just that purpose. The pudgy man glanced around in order to make sure the server wasn't watching as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a package of pills with a crescent moon decorating the box. He then took two spoons from off the counter next to him and used them to crush up two tiny blue pills into powder. He dumped the fine particles into the boy's sugary sweet coffee and stirred it up vigorously. It was a good thing the kid took a pound of sugar in his drink, for the inordinate amount of sweetener the boy required would cover up the bitter tasting pills oh so well.

BTW...please don't think that this is the extent of my evilness regarding Reid's fear of the dark :) It'll come into play in a larger capacity in the future.