A/N: thank you to the two people who reviewed. nataliemoran and Sandylee007

Disclamer: I am not getting any profit from writing this story it is a work of pure fiction and the fandoms belong to their prospective companys.

Chapter 1: Doctor Doctor

When Captain Johnathan Hamish Watson next awoke it was dark. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. Scratch that there was an old dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling. He blinked a bit more shaking slightly getting to his feet. He felt weak, he itched his arm feeling were then needle went in on the back of his hand. An I.V.? How long had he been out? He started to search the room, a toilet with a small sink on the back much like the ones found in prisons. A hard raised cement slab for a bead and a door, a single door. He searched the edges trying to find some way out but it couldn't be found. He sighed in frustration nothing. He sat down o the slap of cement and but he head in his hands brining his feet up with him

"Think... Think... Think..." He whispered to himself. He paused for a moment. "Think like Sherlock..." He maneuvered himself so he was lying on his back and place his hands on his chest fingers lightly together in Sherlock favorite thinking pose. Taking a deep breath he tried to relax, he closed his eyes then opened them doing his best to channel the 'great' Sherlock Holms.

"So there is a toilet... a metal toilet like the ones on trains however it doesn't have any water so more like a prison toilet?" John got up and flushed it. Water came out a small spout and a volume sucked it out the other end taking the water and subsequently any thing else. He tried the sink and then water rain on a pump system he had to pump the water with his foot for it to come out the faucets. The water was cold and didn't warm up, "Ok... One sink... but two... two drinking glasses, so two people... maybe..." He looked around the room again as if he had missed some other person, "But I'm the only one here so far.." He ran his hands over the sink again, "Dusty so so hasn't been cleaned in a bit... Um..." He looked around once more, "Do window... There wasn't a window why would there be?" He sat down on the 'bed' again pulling at his hair thinking. "there is still air so it has to be coming from some place." he stood up on the bed and then checked the edges of the ceiling feeling a lip with cold air coming through he did a little victory dance. He couldn't help the smile that came to his face. "Well thinking like Sherlock was useless..."

Suddenly he yawned he was feeling tired, "Why?" he wondered before yawning again. He layed him self down on the cold slab not expecting what would enter his world.

When Spencer awoke it was to being carried by his arms. His feet dragging on the ground and they seemed to be going down a hall. His flight or fight instincts kicked in, he twisted himself out of the grasp of one of two men and then pulled out of the other one. Next he turned tail and ran. He was aware of the fact that his was more then likely not a good idea but that didn't stop him. The two men were surprised but Spencer didn't get very far when a pain shot through his arm he was startled by it as he fell grasping his arm. His chin hit the floor scraping is and the air was knocked out of his lungs causing him to gasp for air like a fish out of water. The men grasped him non to gently causing him to squeak with pain from the little air in his lungs and he was thrown in to a dark room. The door slammed and Spencer closed his eyes.

Opening them when he heard movement he looked over still grasping his arm to a blond man. He had kind blue eyes and he was instantly on his arm like white on rice. It took a second for Spencer's brain to keep up with the fact that the man was giving him first aid.

"Its going to be ok..." He heard the mans soft gentle accent? British if he wasn't mistaken, the calm hands on his arm gave Spencer and instant like of trust in this new person.

"This may hurt a bit..." The blond man warned before there was a sharp firm tug and he hissed through his teeth.

"There that should do it till we get out of here.."

"Spencer finally found the energy to sit up against the wall. "Are you a..." He frowned and licked his tapped lips, "A medical doctor?"

John frowned, why medical doctor not just doctor he nodded, "Doctor John Watson."

The brunet American waved a little, "Doctor Spencer Reid"

John smiled, "Pleasure."

Silence stretched for a moment, "So..." Spencer started, "Wear are we exactly?"

John looked around, "Well that's the question of the day isn't it? By chance do you know the date?"

Hazel eyes blinked, "Well if I had to guess I would say its either the 19th or the 20th how ever if we are in England then there are time zone changes to factor in along with general space of time that has passed sense the abductions assuming you were in fact abducted as well."

wow he talks almost as fast as Sherlock, "Well I was abducted as you put it on the fifteenth."

"From where?" came the quiet voice.

"My home on Bakers street in London... you?"

"A black tie party in Washington DC..."

"Ok..." John said softly.

"now we need to figure out why..." Spencer was pondering.

"Well I know who took me and why more then likely the same person for you as for the why I have no idea."

Spencer glanced at the doctor through his hair and nodded for him to continue, "His name is Jim Moriarty, and his mind is off in a bad way. However don't underestimate him he is smart in a way that you wouldn't understand, I think he took me because of who I am friends with..."

Spencer seemed confused he didn't know who this Jim Moriarty was and now he wondered who John could be friends with that would attract the attention of such an apparently genius mind.

"Mob connections?" he asked as he took a shuddering breath it was getting cold in the small room.

John laughed, "No nothing like that... Nothing so easy." He shifted closer in an effort to stay warm, "Its because of Sherlock he is my flat made and best friend. He's the smartest person I know and he can always out Witt Moriarty." there was a bit of wistfulness in john's voice that Spencer couldn't place.

"So you are saying its personal? You being taken I mean..." Spencer bit his lip while watching John who nodded, "Then why did he take me?"

Washington D.C.

Oct. 16, 2011

Aaron Hotchner opened his phone from were it was ringing in his pant pocket, it was from FBI. Tech annalist Penelope Garcia. Fearing something was wrong he answered with unusual promptness.

"Garcia how are the children?"

"They re sleeping like the angles they are boss man. However I Have been kind of sort of watching the cameras in the Gala while the kids are asleep." All this was said in one breath and quickly by the bubbly voice on the other line.

He sighed, "Get to the point."

"My point is sir that every camera just went black... as in nothing but darkness its not good."

"Thank you Garcia call me as soon as they come on again.

"Rodger." With that the phone was cut off on the other line and Aaron turned the fist of his team he found was Rossi.

Together the two senior profilers gathered the team. Every one but Reid, he didn't think any thing of it seeing as the last he had seen of the younger man he was on his way to the bathrooms.

"Garcia just called me to tell me that all the cameras are out. As far as I know they are still out. Seal the building quickly and quietly. The unsub could still be here so keep and eye you. David go and look for Reid and get him up to speed quickly." With that Hotch walked away dismissing every one silently.

Five minuets later the call came in that the cameras were back on. It took another hour to figure out that Reid was missing ( it was a big building), five minuets to determine kidnapping. And eight more hours to rule every one at the ball staff and guest alike were not the unsub. The party goers were released and the only ones left were and attractive brunet woman with a smartphone attached to her hand texting at record speeds. She was dressed in a conservative sparkly gown and she just screamed P.A. Next to the woman was a tall very British man, he had on a charcoal gray tux and seemed to be in a relaxed posture.

"Sorry can I help you?" Hotch asked still glancing around hopping to find some sort of clue.

The man smiled and hotch was instantly reminded of a snake, "I may be of assistance to you Agent Hotchner." His accented voice came out as a tired drawl.

"What do you know about that?" He asked trying to measure up the other man

"I know at precisely 10:07pm this evening Agent Garcia called you to inform you that the cameras in the building had stopped... What your about to find out is that your missing agent," He pulled out a small letter bound book from is breast pocket, "Spencer Reid, was last seen on camera walking into the restroom at, 10:06pm. What you also don't know is that I received a call similar to yours by a much more frantic party. Whom some one else had gone missing..."

"Who are you?" Aaron asked guarded and suspicious.

"Mycroft Holms, Mr.. Hotchner pleasure."

Sherlock Home was pacing back and forth a frown marring his face as he glanced around once again. John was gone, missing no kidnapped. How could he have not heard the struggle. John was sure to have put up a fight. Sherlock didn't even know that the man was gone till the fire men had came up to his flat. However, it didn't truly sink in till nearly a whole day later. Sherlock couldn't find any thing. He thought he had a trail but it ended around the London eye. He was getting worried to the point he spied on Mycroft hoping that John may have been with him but it was a foolish endeavor. He had only started to watch the video feed when it was turned off. He growled and picked up his mobile phone and called his elder brother to frustrated to text.

"Hello?" Mycroft's answer slightly confused Sherlock never called him.

"Why did you do it?" Came the harsh demand.

"Sherlock I have no Idea to what you are referring."

"cut of the video feed! Don't be such a simpleton."

"Mycroft frowned, "I did not, why would you do such a thing? Why were you spying Sherlock..."

There was a long silence on the other end, "it is for a case..."

"hummm... How is the doctor?"

Once again Sherlock was silent and when it came to his brother, Mycroft knew it couldn't be a good thing, "How long?"

"Sixteen hours sense I noticed..."

"I will help..." Mycroft replied, he could feel Sherlock glare from England.

"I do not need your help!" with that the conversation ended. It left an amused Mycroft watching as the exists were being sealed and a frustratingly pacing Sherlock.