A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way.

-Mark Twain

"Are you sure about this?" Spencer asked, conveniently positioned across the table from Angie.

"Positive. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? The guy comes up and I struggle a bit, then he's arrested. He might not even show up at all."

It was nearing sunset, and for the past few hours, Spencer and Angie avoided getting too close to each other. While Spencer was not used to being too close to girls, especially cuddling, he thought it shouldn't bother him. But it did. It was weird. As for Angie, she'd been with a few men. She'd dated. She wasn't afraid to flirt with someone she found attractive. So why did it freak her out so much to end up sleep-cuddling with a man she hardly knew?

She was dressed in a tight blue sports bra and shorts, which definitely didn't help her feel any more comfortable. She worked out plenty at the NCIS gym, and she had been in dance classes most of her life, so sports bras didn't bother her. But around Spencer, it made her feel self-conscious and aware of her flaws.

Spencer, on the other hand, pretended she was dressed as an Eskimo.

Morgan patted her on the shoulder. "You'll be fine, Slick." Ever since his mysterious comment to her, he'd taken to calling her Slick, which she wouldn't have minded if he just told her why it was her new name. But he refused to tell her, always perky and obnoxious. He kind of reminded her of Tony.

Each moment that passed became excruciatingly long. Every time she looked at the clock, Angie wanted to scream at Gibbs, plead for him to make her not go. But this was something she had to do. She'd had the barrel of a shotgun in her face before, and had been nearly beaten by angry rednecks. She'd seen her Muslim father came home beaten and black too many times after 9/11. The first case she ever worked as a lawyer was the case of her uncle, who had crossed the border illegally from Mexico. The horror stories he told her about the coyotes that had smuggled him and demanded five-hundred dollars, or her uncle would die. And that was all before joining NCIS.

She had to do this.

Closing her eyes, she pretended she wasn't there, and imagined herself back home. Her Grandmother was there, elderly and sick, but full of life. She listened to the stories her grandmother told, of El Virgin de Guadalupe and her appearance to an Indian man, and the terrifying tales of La Llorona, who killed her own children in a river. The memories calmed her. Lost in them, she barely heard Tony tell her it was time.

She took a rental car to the park nearest Petty Officer Lopez's murder. Clouds had long since formed in the sky, hanging heavy and darkening her surroundings. She was alone now, or at least it felt that way. She knew her team was not far off, watching from locations they could not be detected. Still, as she got out of the car and pulled her masses of blonde curls behind her head, she couldn't help but feel like nobody was there to help her.

Fortunately for her, Angie was in good shape. As she took off around that track, she calmed down, the stress of the situation evaporating from her muscles. Even so, she kept her guard up, watching all around her. It occurred to her that it was very odd anybody Hispanic had been attacked in that area, period. It didn't look like a Latino neighborhood, not like any she had seen. It wasn't high-class, but it wasn't covered in graffiti of the Virgin, either.

She made it around the track one time. Stopping, she wiped sweat from her brow and checked her cell phone. Only fifteen minutes had passed. She rested momentarily, then took off again, trying not to focus on the feeling of pavement beneath her feet, and more on any breaking stick, or crushed leaves. Two more times around the track, and nothing happened.

She came to a stop again, this time in front of the playground. If he was going to attack, which she was beginning to doubt he would, it would be there. She sat on one of the swings, her breathing slightly strained, though she knew she could run much longer. Nothing had happened yet. No twigs snapped, no suspicious cars had passed. Nothing.

Finally she gave up. Once the rain began pouring, she waited beneath a tree, just in case. But that would seem odd, she figured, and she hurried back to her car, unscathed. He wasn't stalking that night, or he knew she was a cop.

Nearing the station, two large, black SUVs followed her, coming to a stop just feet from her. She was drenched in rainwater as she entered the precinct building. The cool bursts of cold air from the air conditioner might as well have been buckets of ice.

"Well, that was a waste," she said. "Nothing happened."

"It wasn't a waste." Morgan wrapped a blanket around her. "We'll send you out the next time it rains to see if he bites."

She nodded and thanked him for the blanket, then stood and exited with her team. She was still a bit shaken up, but at that point, there wasn't much anybody could do but wait. She just hoped somebody else wouldn't die while they waited to send her out again.

Spencer rubbed his eyes furiously. Morgan took Angie's seat, though it was kind of wet, his eyes burning holes into Spencer's skin. "What?" The genius asked, his nerves on edge.

"You came in with Angie. You okay with her going out there like that?" He could tell this wasn't the time to poke fun, as there definitely was something going on with Reid.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Truth was, he didn't like it at all. But he wasn't going to let anybody know that.

Morgan leaned in, his eyes narrowed in concerned suspicion. "Are you sure?"

For the second time, Spencer said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Looking up, his eidetic memory absorbing everything around him, he looked into Morgan's eyes. They cared. He always knew Morgan cared, but it always felt strange to actually see it in someone's eyes. He couldn't lie to his team, especially not Morgan, who treated him like a brother. "I'm not okay with her going out there like that."

"People do it all the time in a job like ours."

"But…" he wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know why he had a problem with it, just that he did. He cared too much for Angie to let her go out like that, even though he'd only known her for a short while. It was strange to him that he cared at all. Everything about Angie scared him.

Morgan knew. "It's okay. She'll be fine." It was nice to see Spencer caring about someone like that, even if Reid didn't quite understand it. Ha. Spencer not understanding something, and Morgan getting it perfectly. How the world was fair.

"I think I'm going to go check on her."

"But she just left!"

Spencer rested his head on the palm of his hand, his elbow propped up on the table. "I know. I just don't feel comfortable letting her go by herself."

"But she's not by herself…" Morgan stopped, trying to determine whether or not it would be a good idea to let Spencer go to her. On the one hand, she would probably find it cute. On the other, she might just find it weird and slightly offensive. It just depended on the type of agent she was, and how much she liked Spencer. "Listen dude, don't go after her today. It'll just seem like you're obsessing over her."

"But I'm not." He straightened up in his chair, his chest puffing out slightly. Not that his chest could puff much, considering there wasn't much there in the first place.

"I said it would seem like it. Let her be by herself."

"But what if she—"

"Leave the 'what ifs' for the job, okay?"

Spencer couldn't argue with him anymore. Whether it was because he agreed with the elder agent or because he was too exhausted to fight, he couldn't tell. He didn't respond to Morgan, and stood to leave. JJ and Prentiss followed him out, concerned, but not asking questions.

&&&&

Angie slept strangely well that night, given the situation. When she awoke, she felt refreshed and energized, which concerned her slightly. Ever since she began working for NCIS, she slept different. It wasn't necessarily that she slept less, but that when she woke up, she didn't feel ready to go. She felt determined, yes, because she loved her job. But she definitely felt more stressed. She revealed her feelings about it on the phone to her mother one day, who only laughed and said it was strange. Lawyers aren't supposed to sleep well, she said.

She showered and applied curling mousse to her hair, just to keep the frizz down. If she didn't, it wasn't so much curly as it was wavy and outrageous, an effect she never went for. She applied makeup to her face, lining her eyes expertly with a stick of dark kohl. She didn't often wear makeup at all, mostly because she didn't have the time to apply it. But she liked the affect it had on her features.

Refreshed, she left her room and found Gibbs exiting his room. He looked tired but clean, though he always looked like that. "Is Tony awake?"

Gibbs looked up at her, bringing a cup of coffee to his lips before responding. "He better be."

On cue, Tony opened the door to his room, a grin on his face per usual. "Good morning," he said, stretching.

Gibbs did not waste time with good mornings and hellos. He seemed on edge, which was quite common with Gibbs. It was just how he was when on a case. He had to find out who it was. A man killing innocent women was not a man that would be safe from Gibbs. "Tony and I going to interview the surviving victim today."

"I thought she didn't remember anything," Angie asked, pushing the down button in the elevator.

"That was then. You will go with the BAU and prepare for tonight."

Angie's lips flattened into a tense line. She was not enthusiastic about the idea of going undercover again so soon. "Is it even going to rain?"

"It's supposed to. I checked the weather this morning."

&&&&

Reid was drawn into a book he had read many times. He didn't even have to read every page, he could just skip over what he didn't feel like reading, because he had it all memorized already. Even so, he couldn't help it. The books offered him comfort.

"Lord of the Rings? Again?" Morgan looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

"Yes," Reid replied unenthusiastically. He wasn't supposed to be reading on the job if it didn't pertain to the case, but there really wasn't all that much to do aside from interviewing and going over the evidence they had already been through a hundred times.

"I'm afraid you'll have to visit the Land of Small Gay Men later. Hotch wants you and I to go interview the family of the surviving victim."

"We already did that."

"He wants us to do it again."

Reid was frustrated. The last thing he wanted to do was interview the family a second time. Interviews were always hard, and doing it again was terrible. But SSA Hotchner knew what he was asking, and Reid knew better than to question it. "Alright."

He stood to leave, grabbing pulling his jacket on over his thin torso. He went to grab his badge when Angie entered the room, looking fresh and ready to go. "Morning," she chirped, her tone a far cry from the one the night before. Reid was a bit surprised to see her all well.

"You seem happy," he said, his feet bringing him closer to her without his knowledge. Soon he found himself standing next to her and unable to remember how he got there.

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm not going to let a case bring me down. If I did, I'd be dead by now."

Her optimism was quite inspiring, really. There were many times Spencer found himself "down in the dumps" so to speak, the reality of his profession getting the better of him. She seemed happy with it. Maybe it was her newness to the whole deal.

"Where is the rest of your team?"

"Gibbs and Tony went to interview the surviving victim."

"Ah. Morgan and I were just about to go interview the family."

"Oh, good, why don't I go with you? Gibbs didn't really leave me with anything to do, and I don't want to be stuck in here all day."

Spencer looked over his shoulder at Morgan, who shrugged and smiled. "Um… sure… great."

&&&&

There was no luck. Angie and Spencer both knew it was going to be a pointless trip. The family had nothing to hide. They were strong and close, always supportive of their child.

Back in the FBI's SUV, Spencer had opted to sit in the back with Angie. Morgan couldn't help but inwardly chuckle at how obvious the young man was being. Not that Spencer even realized how obvious he was being. He still thought he was just being friendly. But he wasn't the only one who could tell. Angie saw straight through Spencer, even if it took her a day or so to figure it out. It was cute, really, how puppyish he was being. She felt very flattered by this, but didn't want to bring it up until the case was over. After all, she still felt awkward about falling asleep with him. That should have been a good indicator of how he felt. And, of course, how she felt. She wasn't sure whether or not she had a crush or not, and if she did, she didn't want to call it that. She felt crushes were reserved for teenagers and children.

She reminded herself they had only known each other a few days. No point in rushing into anything if there was something to be had. It was something she learned from experience. Looking back, all the worst relationships she'd ever had were with men she got involved with too quickly. She felt even thinking about being involved with him was moving too quickly… but for some reason, the thought of a future with the genius was very much appealing.

"Um… Angie?"

Angie felt herself pulled back into reality and away from her thoughts. Spencer had apparently said something to her, and was looking at her with large, concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I tend to drift off into my head sometimes. What did you say?"

"I said JJ sent me a text. They found another body."