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I stared at Prentiss for a long time before my brain seemed to reconnect with my body, and I stumbled out a half-hearted, "Well.. Erm.. Personally, I-I'd be searching for men who have been able to travel between these jurisdictions, so American made, hefty cars and vans. Those aren't exactly inconspicuous, so I guess we're looking for a company car of some kind. Maybe electricity, or plumbing. "

They all nodded in recognition, and I smiled a little. They actually were listening to me. I knew I shouldn't be so surprised, but it's like, I'm finally being recognised. Praised for being professional at my job and I needed that kind of acknowledgment - it had been engrained in me since I was a child. My father had told me over and over again that I always needed to be better, and even though I tried to shake off such menial tendencies, some of them stuck with me through adulthood.

Reid brought me out of my reverie, and I found all of my focus was alerted directly to him, by saying, "Well, Hotch, how are we going to approach this? I mean, the simplest solution would be to separate us into pairs, and give us each a third of the names, and we could individually check them out?"

I bobbed my head in approval, and took that as my queue to leave, so I quietly said, "If you need anything, I'll be at my desk. Thanks."

Hotchner stood in between myself and the doorframe, and glowered down at me, as if I was the psycho in the room. Questioningly, I stared back up at him, and I squared my shoulders, ready for anything. His tone was playful when he enquired, "And where do you think you're going, Detective Lewis?"

The question seemed mocking and half-way patronising, but it was phrased almost as if he were questioning my sanity. It was like he truly didn't understand why I was going. I stammered over my words a little, and I responded, "I'm going back to my desk to finish up the paperwork; I'm more help behind a computer than I am at home, so I might as well."

My statement seemed to startle him, as well as Morgan who stared back at me as if he didn't even know who I was. Oh wait, he really didn't know who I was. What a stupid comparison to make.

Morgan chipped in quickly and said, "You're not goin' anywhere, baby girl. You need to be here. You figured this all out yourself, we need you."

I looked him dead in his eye and saw nothing but sincerity, and even though I knew I shouldn't, I believed him. I nodded shakily, and I sat down quickly in the nearest chair, and got my head down. I intended on reading through these folders and cross-checking them with whatever information the BAU had dredged up in the last few hours, however I found my chair being tipped backwards.

Not enough for me to fall to the floor, but it was enough for me to jolt upwards, and for a chuckle to resound around the room. At first I thought this whole thing was a joke, however it was only when I felt, for the third time, a hand on my shoulder, and a reassuring smile from Hotchner had me grinning in return. He half-whispered, "Come on, we need to get to work."

I affirmed, and retorted, "Okay, Agent Hotchner."

He froze a little, and sighed, "It's Hotch, not Hotchner."

Hesitantly, I gave him a bristled acquiesce, and whispered back, "Right, Hotch."

We grouped outside on the sidewalk and Hotchn- Hotch directed us into our teams. Agent Morgan was with Agent Prentiss, Dr Reid and Agent Rossi were together, and Hotch and I were a duo. Hotch told me to dictate which group went to which selection of homes, and in doing so, I took a bit of control of what I liked to think of as my pseudo investigation. I was quite happy working with the BAU, more so than I have ever been working with Stephenson and his lackeys.

Hotch and I took the black SUV, where as Morgan and Prentiss took the Chevrolet and Reid and Rossi were given a liaison to escort them around. I was the only person without a gun, and even though I knew I could defend myself if it ever came down to it, I'd prefer not to have to go against someone with a gun. Hotch and I got given the 25s to 30s, Morgan and Prentiss were given the 30s to 35s, and Reid and Rossi were given the rest of them. I knew that they could handle themselves well.

Before the car drove away, with me in the passenger seat, I caught the eye of one Spencer Reid, and I couldn't help but notice some tightness in his hazel orbs. What was wrong with him? He looked almost upset at something, but as soon as we made strong enough eye contact, he looked away, and stammered for the liaison to start the car. I don't understand, did I do something wrong?

I couldn't focus of Reid right now, I needed to remain fixated on the case. Right, murderer, catch him, now. I stared out of the front window, and smiled lightly when Hotch switched on the radio, light jazz music tinkling through the speakers and I tap my fingers against my upper thigh throughout the car ride.

My tone sounded tired and a little exasperated when I said, "Why am I really here, Hotch? Seriously, why did you bring me in on this? You've read my file, haven't you?"

His hand tightened on the steering wheel minutely, and his mouth hardened into a grim line. He replied with, "Yes, I've read into your background. You're a very smart girl, aren't you? You give Reid a good run for his money, let me tell you that. You started high school at 10, and university by 16. You studied psychology, sociology and mathematics at AP grade, then further PhDs in the same subjects. You have BAs in quantum mechanics, engineering forensic science and criminology," he gave me an appraising stare, then continued, "I know you're one of the youngest agents to ever join the police academy, and then personally drafted into the NYPD. You passed the entrance exams with flying colours. I know that you've been medicated anti-depressants ever since your injury in the field, and I know, from experience, that you are just waiting, no it's more than waiting, you're hoping that we'll let you in."

A half-smile made its way up my face, and I smartly responded with, "You missed out linguistics and I.T, but beyond that, yeah, you're right."

He laughed, and we fell back to the comfortable silence we had been in before. It was nice, being out in the field. My heart was beating faster than usual, the hands and the back of my neck felt clammy and moist and my senses were on hyper alert. It was strange, but I like it. I liked the feeling of the chase. It was invigorating.

"Here we are. Gregory Jones, 26. He's the first on our list - now when we go in there, I'll do most of the confrontational talking - you placate him. As hard as it is to do, make him feel like he's done nothing wrong. We'll do this for each house we visit but really, if he's in this file, then you'll know it when you meet him. You're the one who gave us this profile, you will be able to figure him out."

I nodded and pushed open the door. I adjusted my glasses as I stepped out of the SUV and pulled my hair over my left shoulder once more, and I followed Hotch onto the front porch of Greg Jones. This was going to be interesting.