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Here's the next chapter.

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The apartment was sparse, but well-furnished considering the fact that the owners looked as though they were still students. One sat in the living room on a long beige couch. The soft sound of taps drifted around the apartment as he typed away on the computer in his lap. A gray ball of fur was pressed into the space between the young man's leg and the arm of the couch. The huge windows behind him lit up the room. His hair was to his shoulders, messily layered and a rich brown color. His unusual amber eyes, like a strange crystal carved to form irises, stared intently at his work.

A second man walked in, more built and muscled then his lanky companion. He carried two classes of golden juice to the coffee table currently occupied by the first's feet. The second smiled and laughed sitting beside him. "Oh, Cles," he sighed affectionately as he set the two glasses down. The first man did not respond and did not tear away from his work. The second pushed his dark red hair from his blue eyes and draped an arm around the other man's slender shoulders. He too stared as words as they appeared on the Word document opened on the page.

A knock disturbed the tranquil scene. The second man laughed softly when he saw his boyfriend unaffected by the interruption. He stood and headed towards the door, opening it wide to two men and a woman dressed in suits with their badges in hand. "Excuse me; does a Heracles Adamodis-Lyaguschav live here?" The oldest, a man with dark hair and eyes and little expression asked. The man looked down and blinked, recognizing the FBI symbol and badge layout.

The owner of the apartment swallowed, "Y-Yes, what's this about?"

"Could we speak to him-?"

"Adrik?" A heavily accented voice asked from within the room. The man still sat at the couch, but his eyes were no longer focused on his work. The gray fluff also had shifted into the form of an annoyed cat. Cles stood up and moved over towards his boyfriend, his laptop abandoned on the couch. "Whose at the door?"

The pale figure that appeared at the door was lanky and tall, but not nearly as tall as the man that had answered the door. He was paler and the accent was different then what Hotch had expected from the name. He had expected a Greek man with olive or darker skin with dark hair. The man that stood was British, slightly freckled. His facial structure showed some of the Greek in him, but other than that, Hotch was at a loss. "Are you Heracles Adamodis-Lyaguschav?" Hotch asked showing him his badge and pocketing it as Prentiss and Reid had.

"I am," the man confessed, smiling.

"The administrator known as Hal for the blog Hade's Realm?"

"Yes-?"

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, if it's alright?"

Cles blinked and looked up at Adrik, who shrugged. Their confusion was matched on one another's faces. Hotch could read them well, neither knew anything involving the other. If one was the murderer, the other didn't know it. Cles and Adrik stepped back, "Come in," Cles offered smiling nervously.

"Thank you," the three agents walked in. Cles led the way into the living room and closed his laptop. The cat had vanished once Cles vacated the couch. They all sat on the couch and chairs that surrounded the coffee table.

"Can I offer you anything? Tea? I just made some lemon bars this morning…?" Cles asked as he leaned back beside his boyfriend. Both had taken up the couch with Cles holding his computer in his lap.

"No thank you," Hotch stated as Reid opened up his messenger bag and rummaged through the papers. He pulled out a few folders and handed them over to Hotch. "We wanted to ask you a few questions about your blog."

"Oh, okay."

"Why did you start it?" Hotch asked as he sat up straight with the files resting on his lap.

"For fun," Cles said with a shrug. "I like to write and I like when people like what I write so I started a blog." He smiled and nudged the man sitting next to him. "Adrik suggested it. I guess he was tired of me making him read my stories."

"I just thought you deserved a wider fan base," Adrik offered smiling at him. "Cles is a really good writer and I just thought it wasn't fair that he kept his stories to himself."

"Why not publish then?"

"Well, I started with fan fiction," Cles replied lacing his fingers in Adrik's and looking at him. Both smiled at each other, like they shared an inside joke. Cles brought his gaze to meet Hotch's. "Then I decided to work on my own stuff and I never really bothered changing how I got it to the readers. Just as long as the works got to them."

"I see," Hotch nodded.

"Mr. Ad-." Reid began.

"Please, just Cles."

"Cles," Reid tried again. Hotch looked over at him and could see that Reid was using part of his focus not to fiddle with the straps on his bag. "How many readers do you get daily?"

Cles blinked and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "God, I don't know." His expression creased with thought, but he shrugged. "I've never looked before, but I can check."

"Thank you, that would be helpful," Hotch nodded. They all watched the young man as he released the other's hand and pushed open his computer.

As he typed in the password and clicked through, Adrik looked at Hotch. "May I ask what this is about? I doubt the FBI does routine checks on blogs."

"You're right to think that. We're doing an investigation on a small town near here and we have reason to believe that Mr. Adamodis-Lyaguschav's blog has something to do with it." Hotch explained. "After us, you shouldn't worry about anyone checking up on college students' blogs."

"Oh, Cles isn't-." Adrik stopped when he saw the confusion on Cles's face. "Honey?"

"This isn't right," Cles whispered looking up at him, "It says I've had over a million views for the month, but the month started yesterday!"

Adrik's eyes widened, "Wow, you really are popular!"

Cles flushed and turned his computer around. "Well, for today I've had four-hundred thousand and twenty-three views."

Hotch looked at Reid whose eyes had widened. "You've really never checked?" Reid asked surprised.

"No, never," Cles replied looking back at his computer. "I've only ever read what people said about my stories. I like hearing what people have had to say."

"We're conducting a murder investigation and we think that whoever is committing the crimes is using your stories as blueprints," Prentiss interjected as the cat reappeared from under the couch and wrapped around her leg. She bent down and scratched his ears. The cat meowed and jumped for her hand. She sat back, surprised.

"Bad Rasputin, come here," Cles hissed, snapping at the cat. The cat meowed and moved back over to him. Cles offered an apology and turned back to Hotch as the cat wrapped around his hand. "Why would someone want to do that?"

"You're clearly very popular," Reid offered.

"Yes, and until we find out why, we'll need to investigate your blog to find out if maybe the unsub has contacted you without your knowing." Hotch stated.

"Anything to help!" Cles stated quickly. "Do you need my password? A-Am I allowed to post anything while you're using it?"

"Not right away. Let your readers know you're taking a break and we'll see if any act strongly." Hotch stated, his thoughts said as they came to him. "We'd also like to use computer."

Cles's eyes widened. He looked down at his laptop and hugged it to his chest. "B-But-."

"If you have school work, we can supply a computer for you to use until we've finished with it." Prentiss offered.

Cles blinked and laughed. "I haven't gone to school in, oh," he thought and looked towards Adrik, "When did I get my doctorate. Two years ago?"

"I think so; it was a year before we got married." Adrik kissed his cheek and took his hand.

Cles smiled and looked at Hotch. "You can take my computer. It's fine. Just make sure it comes back in the condition it's in. I don't want to have to rearrange anything."

Hotch stared at him briefly. Expression never changing. He nodded. "We'll take good care of it." Prentiss took the computer and held onto it.

She sat back down at looked at Cles in confusion. "If you don't mind my asking, how old are you?" She asked sheepishly.

Cles smiled and shook his head. "I don't mind at all, I get it all the time. I'll be twenty in a couple of months."

The FBI agents stood at the front of the door. Cles waved goodbye to them as Adrik led them out. Cles had noticed right away, from the furtive sidelong glances the older male gave the younger, the two definitely had a thing going. The young woman knew from the way she had taken the farther chair and let the two have the chairs closer together. Either fraternization rules were not implemented at the BAU, or the two men had a deep enough relationship that they didn't worry too much about it. Cles smiled. He could appreciate that.

He had felt Adrik tense as soon as he opened the door to the trio. Not from fear, though. No, never from fear. Worry more likely, apprehension. Adrik always worried about Cles's wellbeing and had always been protective. That's why he knew, without hearing every word spoken, what the older man was saying to the three FBI agents.

"Sir, if I may say, Cles isn't a killer. He can't even kill spiders when he sees them. He would never kill another person. Whoever this is, it's not Cles."

Cles shivered at the thought of Adrik's deep voice saying such things. Such deliciously naïve words. Yet, as far as he knew, they were true. At least he wasn't killing anyone directly.

Adrik had called back the dark haired agent, Hotchner he believed. The man stood before him as the other two made their way down the hallway. "Agent, Cles would never kill someone. He's a very sweet man." Adrik's voice was firm, his eyes flashed with passion even though his expression was set in a stern countenance. "Nothing would make him kill someone."

"I'll take your word for it, but we can't ignore every possibility." Hotch nodded him off and walked away.

Adrik called after him. "It's not him, Agent Hotchner. If it's anyone, it would never by Cles."

Chapter 3- End

TBC

Gasp, another genius?!