Sitting on the jet back from San Francisco, Emily sent a text to Jessica. "Hey, we're trying to arrange a surprise happy belated birthday party for Reid tomorrow. You in?"

"…"

"Yeah, we all kinda forgot. As you know, things have been pretty crazy the past few months."

"…"

"I'm not trying to suggest that you forgot too, nor am I blaming you for not reminding us. I just figured you'd want to help anyway."

"Aren't you forgetting something else?"

"Yes, the big 30, we know what that means to him."

"…"

"Okay, I give up. Contrary to popular belief, profilers are not mind-readers."

"Ask Spencer what he's doing tomorrow night."

Confused now, Emily put her phone back in her pocket and got up to sit by Reid. "Hey. You got plans tomorrow night?"

Reid looked surprised by the question. "Yes, Gideon and I are taking Jessica to Foong Lin's for her birthday."

Emily suppressed the urge to groan. "Jessica's birthday is tomorrow."

"Yeah." Reid gave her a curious look. "If you like, I could ask her if it's okay for you to come along. I assume she'd be fine with it."

"No, I don't think she's in the best of moods with me right now. I'll be sure to buy her something, though." Emily returned to her old seat and sent a group text to everyone on the team except Reid. "Change of plans. Garcia, can you get everything ready by the time we land? We need to do this today."

"I can, but I'd have to go store-bought with the cake," Garcia responded. "Why the rush?"

"We all forgot Jessica's birthday too. It's tomorrow."

"…baby girl, I think you need to set up yearly birthday reminders so this never happens again," Morgan suggested.

"Agreed," Hotch added. "Garcia, set up those reminders as soon as the conference room is prepared."

"On it, boss man!"

Relieved, Emily switched back to texting Jessica. "Sorry about that. How early can you get to Quantico this afternoon?"

Fortunately, both celebrations went well, and Jessica wound up inundated with more gifts than she had anticipated. She had to reorganize her room (and throw out a few things) in order to make room for them.

A few days later, Jessica received a text from Rossi. "Do you smoke?"

"…no?"

"I won't tell Reid if you do. I remember being young and thinking it was 'cool'."

Jessica had to take a few moments to figure out how the heck she should respond to that. "Okay, first of all, we're talking about the guy who notices if I so much as change my deodorant. He'd know if I was smoking. Second of all, I've never thought smoking was remotely 'cool'. I'm against addictive substances on principle, and frankly I find cigarette smoke disgusting anyway."

"I see. Well, it's probably for the best; our unsub has been using cigarettes to roofie his victims."

"Don't worry, I'm very careful about things like that. I had an unfortunate encounter with spiked punch in high school."

"Spiked punch?!" Rossi repeated, horrified.

"Spiked with alcohol, not rohypnol," Jessica clarified. "And it was the communal punch bowl, not my personal cup. Nobody tried to take advantage of me…at least not that I can remember. Honestly, the whole night's a bit fuzzy now."

"I'm glad you're okay," Rossi replied. "And I'm glad you're cautious enough to look out for yourself."

Jessica snorted. "After nearly seven years around you guys? How could I not be?"

"You make a fair point," Rossi conceded. "But every once in a while, it's nice to get some reassurance."

Jessica stood by the dining table, giving Spencer a look that was both amused and skeptical. "A little birdie told me you got kicked out of a casino in Atlantic City."

"Technically, it was a private gambling establishment," Spencer replied.

"Fine, so you got kicked out of a 'private gambling establishment'," Jessica amended. "I suppose that explains how you got through the door in the first place."

Spencer shot her a confused look. "What do you mean? There was a $50,000 buy-in; Rossi had to front us the money."

Jessica smirked. "I mean that explains why you weren't banned already. I always thought you must have gotten yourself banned from every casino in the country by now."

"Only the casinos near places where I've lived," Spencer objected. "I've never gambled in Atlantic City."

"And apparently you still haven't, since you got kicked out for fighting instead of counting cards."

Spencer frowned. "Ever since I joined the FBI, I've avoided games against live players in casinos. I can't not count cards, and it would be a bad look for an active agent to get banned for violating casino rules."

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "But if you get kicked out while on active duty, it's okay?"

"I was undercover. Once the unsub ran off, Hotch let security know what was really going on."

Jessica snorted. "Yes, and I'm sure you were suddenly their most valued customer. Anyway, dinner."

Spencer sat down, still mildly bemused by the conversation.

The following Sunday was February 5th, so Jessica and Spencer naturally intended to stay home. Unfortunately, the doorbell rang shortly after they finished breakfast. Spencer cautiously opened the door to reveal Maeve, clutching a manila envelope and looking very pale. "There's something I need to tell you," she announced worriedly.

Spencer stood aside to let her in. "Is everything all right?"

Maeve shook her head, swallowing. "Someone has been stalking me for the past few weeks, leaving photos and notes in my mailbox at work."

"A few weeks?!" Spencer exclaimed, concerned and slightly affronted. "Why didn't you tell me as soon as this started?!"

"You spend your time dealing with serial killers, I didn't want to distract you with something so minor…"

"Your safety is not minor," Spencer retorted. "Stalkers have been known to escalate; it's believed that at least 20% of serial killers stalk their victims before killing them."

Maeve sighed. "Look, I'm not here about the stuff that's been happening at work; I'm here about what I found in my home mailbox this morning." She opened the envelope and pulled out a photo that had clearly been taken through the window of her office door. It showed Jessica sitting on Maeve's couch with a textbook and a worksheet. Maeve sat next to her, and the two appeared to be having some kind of discussion.

Horrified, Spencer snatched the photo and envelope out of her hands. "Was Jessica in any of the previous photos?"

Maeve shook her head. "No, they were mostly just photos of me, although there were a few with you in them too."

"And you didn't think I needed to know that?!"

"They always showed up when you were out of town!"

"Which means your stalker has been watching to know when I'm not there to help you!"

Maeve huffed in annoyance. "For your information, I did contact campus security! And I've been having a colleague escort me to my car each night. It's not like I've been completely ignoring this!"

Spencer let out his own huff of annoyance. He reached into the envelope to see if there was anything else, and discovered a note. It said 'What did SHE do that made her worthy of your attention? Do you think SHE'S better than ME?'

Maeve grimaced. "Until now, all the messages have been along the lines of 'why won't you see me' or 'do you think you're better than me'. This was the first time he mentioned anyone else, and it was the first time he sent it to my apartment instead of my office. Once he threatened Jessica, I knew I had to involve you."

"Well, thank you for that, at least," Spencer grumbled, still annoyed. "Where are the earlier photos and notes?"

"I gave each one to campus security as soon as I received it."

Spencer sighed. "I'm going to call in my team on this. Someone needs to retrieve the rest of the evidence, and I'm taking you and Jessica straight to Quantico. This guy needs to be stopped before he can escalate any further."

Maeve nodded, swallowing. "Thanks."

Morgan and JJ picked up the other photos and notes from Mendel campus security, and everyone reconvened in the BAU conference room. "Maeve, when did this start?" Hotch prompted.

"A few weeks ago," Maeve responded. "I-I think the first note showed up the day Spencer left for that conference…in Chicago, I think? It's hard to keep track of where you guys go."

"Yes, Emily and I went to a conference in Chicago a few weeks ago," Spencer confirmed.

"Did anything else happen around that time?" Hotch asked. "Something incidental, something which may not have seemed significant to you but meant everything to your stalker?"

Maeve shook her head, worrying her lip. "If it didn't seem significant to me, how am I supposed to remember it?"

"You may not remember it consciously right now, but that doesn't mean the memory isn't there," Morgan said gently. "Try."

Maeve sincerely tried to remember something, anything, but she kept coming up blank. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

Morgan sighed. "Well, he seems like a classically possessive stalker."

"One who craves validation and recognition," JJ agreed.

"Except the threat to Jessica doesn't fit," Rossi argued. "This earlier photo shows Reid and Maeve holding hands, so it's clear that the stalker has watched closely enough to know that they're romantically involved. Logically, if the stalker were going to bring anyone else into this, it would be Reid. So why fixate on Jessica?"

"Well, we do carpool?" Jessica suggested.

Prentiss shook her head. "No, it's got to be more than that. How much time do you spend in Maeve's office?"

"I go there sometimes after classes, but a lot of the time, Maeve isn't even in there. I just do homework until she's done with work and we drive home."

"And you're doing homework in the photo," Prentiss signed thoughtfully.

Reid's eyes widened. "What if that's it? What if the stalker is focused on Maeve not as an object of romantic or sexual desire, but as an educator?"

"But you know I don't teach," Maeve objected. "I just advise some of the PhD students."

Rossi leaned forward in his chair. "Are there any students who requested you as an advisor whom you rejected?"

"No, it doesn't work like that. I'm given a list of PhD candidates, and I put forward my requests for which ones I want to personally advise, but I don't get the final say. And anyone who's on that list is guaranteed an advisor, even if it isn't me. The only time I have the power to truly reject anyone is when they submit their final thesis."

"You told me you had to reject someone at the end of the fall semester," Reid recalled. "You said he did a project on suicides, and he included his parents in the study, so the sample was biased."

Maeve shook her head. "Yes, I had to reject a candidate for using their parents in their study, but I could have sworn the candidate was a woman."

Jessica started. "Wait a minute. A few weeks ago, there was a woman in the science building who offered to be my advisor. She seemed weirdly upset when I politely declined."

Everyone turned to her in surprise. "What?!" Reid responded, shocked. "You've talked to this woman?"

"Yes. I've seen her a few times since then, and she was always nice to me, so I figured she'd just been having a bad day or something. Just a few days ago, she even greeted me in ASL, and told me she'd been learning." Jessica scowled, angry now. "And here I thought she was being sweet!"

"Probably hoping you would reconsider her offer," Rossi suggested. "She must have seen the amount of time you spend in Maeve's office and mistakenly assumed you were Maeve's protégée. Now she's trying to steal you away, to 'prove' that she's better than Maeve."

"But the note from this morning indicates that she's jealous," JJ argued. "She thinks she should have been Maeve's protégée, and that Jessica has taken her rightful spot."

"She's probably feeling conflicted," Hotch commented. "But if Jessica keeps rejecting her, it will add to her psychosis."

"Actually, if she'd kept up learning ASL, I might have reconsidered," Jessica admitted. "My current advisor doesn't sign."

"You are not accepting this woman as an advisor," Reid signed sternly.

"Well obviously not now," Jessica agreed. "Does she even actually work there?"

"A lot of the PhD students do work as lab assistants," Maeve mused. "If so, then she wouldn't have the authority to be anyone's academic advisor, but she may genuinely work for Mendel."

"Not for much longer," Reid growled.

"But I don't understand why she's reacting so strongly," Maeve continued. "I didn't kick her out of the PhD program, I just told her she needed to redo her thesis with an unbiased sample. Overall, her thesis was quite good, and a fascinating read. All I did was give her constructive criticism, same as all her other teachers must have done countless times before."

Rossi shook his head. "This project was deeply personal to her. The fact that she used her parents in her study makes that clear. When you rejected her on those grounds, it probably felt like a personal attack."

Hotch held up a hand. "Look, psychoanalyzing this woman is all well and good, but we need to find her. Maeve, do you remember her name?"

"I…it started with a D, I think?" Maeve said uncertainly. "I'm sorry, I remember the science, not the students."

"Diane Turner?" Garcia asked, typing furiously on her laptop.

"Yes, that sounds right," Maeve agreed.

Garcia turned the screen around to show Diane's photo. "Jessica, is this the woman who approached you?"

Jessica swallowed. "Yes. That's her."

"We need to talk to Diane Turner," Hotch concluded. "Rossi and Emily, with me."

"Wait, I should be there too," Reid argued.

"No," Hotch said firmly. "This woman has been stalking you too, you're part of her victimology. You can't be there. Stay with Jessica and Maeve."

"All right," Reid reluctantly relented.

Hotch knocked on the door. "Diane Turner, FBI."

A few moments later, a woman answered the door. She took a curious look at all three of them before responding. "Is something wrong, agents?"

"We're here about Dr. Maeve Donovan. May we come in?"

Diane scowled. "What's that bitch saying about me now?"

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "Nothing nearly so insulting as what you just called her."

"You expect me to believe that?" Diane huffed skeptically.

"According to Dr. Donovan, she thought your thesis was a fascinating read; she just couldn't approve you for a PhD unless you used an unbiased sample," Prentiss spoke up. "A technicality, really. She doesn't set the rules."

Diane huffed again. "Oh, how convenient, nothing more than a technicality. She knew my thesis was good, and she just couldn't handle the competition!"

"Look, we're not here about the thesis, we're here about the messages we believe you've been sending her," Hotch insisted. "May we come in, or would you prefer we have this discussion in the hallway where all your neighbors can hear?"

Diane narrowed her eyes. "Fine. You can come in." She turned around and led the way inside. The agents caught a glimpse of a living room wall covered in photos, but Diane took them straight to the kitchen. "I suppose this is the part where I ask if you all want something to drink? Cause clearly, that's all that Maeve thinks I'm good for!"

"Enough," Prentiss said, gobsmacked. "Maeve was absolutely willing to give you a second chance, but if you keep behaving like this, that second chance will disappear like that!" She snapped her fingers.

"It's a free country, isn't it?" Diane challenged. "The government can't tell me not to express my opinion of that bitch."

"But we can tell you not to harass her or photograph her without her consent," Prentiss retorted. "The same especially goes for the federal agent who has appeared in several of those photographs, and the implied threat to his cousin."

"His what?" Diane said, confused.

"That Deaf girl who hangs out in Maeve's office—she's Agent Reid's cousin," Rossi explained. "She and Maeve carpool out of convenience; she is in no way Maeve's student."

"Then why'd she want nothing to do with me, huh?!"

"She doesn't know you," Prentiss pointed out. "She told us she'd been considering giving you a chance, until she found out about the harassment."

"You're lying."

"We're not," Hotch insisted. "The only thing standing between you and a PhD is your own refusal to accept constructive criticism."

"There was nothing wrong with my work!"

Rossi sighed. "Look, if you can't be reasonable, then we can't help you."

"I don't want your help!"

Hotch also sighed. "Diane Turner, you're under arrest for—"

"AAAAHHH!" Lightning fast, Diane grabbed a kitchen knife and charged at them. Three hands reached for their sidearms, and moments later, Diane Turner lay dead in a pool of her own blood. The agents all shared an uncomfortable look.

Prentiss finally swallowed. "You know…if we hadn't gotten involved, I don't think she was going to stop at photos and letters."

"You're right," Hotch agreed. "She was going to keep escalating until someone stopped her by force."

Rossi wandered into the living room. "Look at this. Some kind of shrine to her dead parents?"

Prentiss gave the body a sad look. "That poor woman never got over their deaths."

"Let's hope she's found peace now," Rossi agreed.

Back at Quantico, Jessica had sat next to Maeve in the bullpen. "Okay, so you've said why you didn't tell Spencer sooner, but why didn't you mention any of this to me? I could have helped you keep an eye out for anyone suspicious."

Maeve sighed. "Can you honestly say you wouldn't have told Spencer if you had the chance?"

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "If you couldn't think of a good argument to convince me not to, don't you think maybe that should have been a sign that I would be right to tell him?"

Maeve stared at her, then dropped her gaze and grimaced. "I guess maybe the whole thing had me too freaked out to think clearly."

Now it was Jessica's turn to sigh. "I suppose I can understand that. When Spencer was having his problems after Georgia…he's told you about that, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, when all of that was happening, I wasn't thinking too clearly either. In hindsight, I should have just told the team straight away, but…I didn't want to get Spencer in trouble. I spent too much time thinking about all the ways it could go wrong, and not all the ways it might help."

Maeve glanced at Spencer, who had occupied himself with a book and was resolutely not talking to her. "I'm not sure Spencer remembers that we civilians aren't trained on how to handle these kinds of situations. We panic and we screw up."

"I think this just came at a really bad time," Jessica suggested. "Has he told you what this date means to us?"

"This date…" Maeve's eyes widened. "Wait, is this the day? The one where your parents died, Spencer got kidnapped, and a few other things I don't remember?"

Jessica grimaced and nodded. "Yes. This whole thing marks the fifth February 5th to turn out really badly for us. Although no one's ended up in the hospital yet, so by our standards, this is pretty mild."

"Mild?" Maeve repeated in disbelief. "It sure doesn't feel mild. I don't even want to imagine what it must be like to go through so many awful things that this feels mild."

"It's a general consensus among myself and my friends that Spencer and I have the worst luck in the world. I'm sorry that it's started rubbing off on you."

"It's okay. I'm sorry that I let this go on long enough for you to get dragged into it."

"I was dragged into it weeks ago, we just didn't realize it. At least today's creepy message seems to have been the clue they needed to solve the case."

"True," Maeve conceded. "And by the way, I'm sorry about your parents."

"Thanks." Jessica swallowed. "At least I didn't go off the rails about it the way this woman did."

"Yes, thank goodness for that," Maeve agreed. She looked up. "Sounds like someone just called Spencer about the case."

Jessica watched Spencer with interest, although she didn't have a good angle for lip reading. A minute later, Spencer hung up the phone and turned to them. "They got her. She committed suicide by cop."

Maeve bowed her head. "That's a shame. She really did have promise."

"At least she can't hurt either of you now."

Jessica wordlessly walked over to Spencer and hugged him.

A/N: I normally use Google to look up any of Reid's statistics that aren't lifted directly from the show, but I couldn't quite bring myself to Google 'how many serial killers stalk their victims before killing them'...if anyone wants to correct me on that statistic, I will happily edit this chapter.