Immediately following the wedding, Reid and Maeve set off on their honeymoon. A few days later, the team got called out on a case in San Francisco. And they were very relieved when Reid's honeymoon ended and he familiarized himself with the case files, because of course he was the one who finally cracked their case by realizing the unsub was a hemophiliac.

Meanwhile, Maeve tried to get settled into her new home. After about an hour of unpacking, a thought came to her and she approached Jessica. "What kind of chore schedule do you guys have?"

Jessica looked at her in surprise. "We don't have a schedule, exactly. I do all the cooking, we're each responsible for our own bedrooms and laundry, and the rest gets assigned based on whether or not Spencer has a case. If he's on a case, the rest is my job. If not, then it's his job."

"That's…an interesting arrangement," Maeve remarked.

"It was pretty much the only way to guarantee that I don't wind up doing more than my fair share," Jessica explained. "Spencer was very insistent that he do his part despite his constant travel."

"Makes sense," Maeve nodded. "But now I live here too, and I don't travel for work, so how can I help?"

"Well, the cooking is always my job because that's something I enjoy doing…is there any chore in particular that you'd like to claim?"

Maeve gave the matter some thought. "How about I take over cleaning the apartment? And you two keep splitting things like doing dishes and taking out the trash?"

"We should run that by Spencer, but that sounds good to me." Jessica paused, considering. "Actually, maybe you should take over feeding Bianca too. You never know, it might get her to warm up to you."

Maeve laughed. "Okay, good plan."

The following Tuesday, the curse of February 5th managed to rear its ugly head again. Late in the afternoon, Maeve received a call from her father. "Sweetie…I'm so sorry. Your mom is in the hospital again."

"What?!" Maeve exclaimed. "What happened?!"

"The cancer's back. It…it actually came back a while ago, but she asked me not to tell you. She wanted you to be happy at your wedding, without this hanging over you…"

Now furious, Maeve could hardly believe what she was hearing. "I thought I was seeing the signs, but I kept telling myself I must be wrong, because there was no way you both would hide something like that from me! I love Spencer, but that doesn't mean I've stopped caring about Mom's health!"

Her dad sighed. "Look, sweetie, I'm sorry. But your mom is very sick now, and she's asking for you."

Maeve also sighed. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

About an hour later, Spencer joined Maeve at the hospital. "How is she?" he asked quietly.

Maeve grimaced. "Apparently, she relapsed all the way back in June. They've tried multiple treatments, but so far without success. They…they said at this point, worst case scenario is six months."

"I'm so sorry." Spencer wrapped his arms around her. They stayed like that for a few minutes, then Spencer spoke again. "You said 'worst case scenario'…is there a best case?"

"They said they might be able to get her into a clinical trial for a new treatment, which would have a small chance of curing her. Emphasis on small, though."

"A small chance is better than none," Spencer said encouragingly.

Maeve sighed. "If only she'd told me. I'd been considering cancer research for my next project, but I decided it could wait, because Mom was doing so well…"

"It was her choice not to tell you. You can't blame yourself."

"I know. I blame her, and I don't like blaming her when I could be losing her."

Spencer squeezed Maeve's hand. "I could take a few more days…"

Maeve shook her head. "No. I love you for suggesting it, but cancer is not your field of expertise, and there are people better equipped to help Mom. Go save the people you can save. Try and keep another family out of a hospital waiting room like this."

"All right, if you're sure," Spencer said reluctantly.

"I'm sure." Maeve gave him a kiss. "I want to tell Mom all about my husband's heroics."

The following day, the BAU got called in on a case where a man's two teenage daughters went missing on the one-year anniversary of their mother's disappearance. On the jet, the team discussed the man as a probable suspect. "The odds of this event striking the same family on the same day must be a billion to one," Rossi remarked.

Reid flinched. "Close enough," he said quietly. "Still higher than the odds of it happening six times."

Rossi immediately winced. "I'm sorry, kid, I didn't mean…"

"I know. But statistics are not evidence. Bruce Morrison is probably guilty, but we shouldn't let confirmation bias sway the investigation."

"He's right," Hotch agreed. "We leave no stone unturned."

"February 4th for the Morrisons, February 5th for you," Blake mused. "What is it about early February?"

As it turned out, Bruce Morrison actually was innocent, but the timing was not a coincidence; his elder daughter had been trying to frame him. Despite catching the culprit, Reid did not feel as if he'd accomplished Maeve's directive to save anyone. He hoped she had better news about her mother.

Maeve did indeed have better news about her mother: she'd been admitted to the trial and transferred to a long-term care facility. Maeve was now rearranging her work schedule to make room for her cancer project. As for Jessica, she had baked a large batch of snickerdoodles. Spencer had long since noticed that baking was Jessica's go-to method of expressing concern over people's health.

As soon as Spencer got home from Austin, he knew he needed to talk to Jessica, for his own peace of mind. "Are people at Mendel accepting of your sexuality?" he asked.

Jessica shrugged. "I guess. I don't go out of my way to hide it, but I haven't really come out to anyone except my close friends."

"And they're okay with it?"

Jessica snorted. "Well, they wouldn't be my friends if they weren't."

"Right." Spencer swallowed, then hugged her.

Jessica returned the hug, then pulled back to give him a suspicious look. "Let me guess. You just worked a case involving homophobia."

"Yes," Spencer admitted. "The lengths that some parents will go to…it's sickening. I just couldn't imagine treating you like that if you dated a girl."

Considering Eve was the only person with whom Jessica had ever gone on a date, she couldn't quite restrain a funny face at that.

"What's that look for?" Spencer asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing," Jessica signed, annoyed. "I'm not interested in women, as you full well know."

"You're defensive," Spencer observed. "That look meant something."

"Well maybe it meant you should mind your own business," Jessica retorted. "I'm your family, not an unsub. You don't need to profile me." She marched away and shut herself in her room without giving Spencer a chance to respond.

Spencer remained in the living room, bewildered. For years, he'd never once doubted that Jessica was an aromantic asexual, but her reaction just now suggested that she might consider dating women. Either that, or she might have gone on a date with one in the past, but he was fairly certain that her eighth grade homecoming was the only date she'd ever…

…oh. Oh. No wonder Spencer didn't remember Jessica mentioning an 'Eve' before college.

The following week, Spencer accompanied Maeve to visit her mother. Just as they were about to leave, the room phone rang. "I guess we'd better get out of your hair," Maeve commented. "Love you, Mom."

"Love you too," Mrs. Donovan replied. She picked up the phone while Spencer and Maeve left the room. Moments later, she called them back. "Spencer!"

"Yes?" Spencer asked, poking his head back in the room.

"It's for you," Mrs. Donovan stated, confused.

"For…me?" Spencer repeated, also confused. "Why would someone be calling me on your phone?"

Mrs. Donovan shrugged and handed out the receiver.

Spence warily walked over and took it. "Hello?"

"Zugzwang," replied a computerized voice.

"E-excuse me?" Spencer stammered.

"Zugzwang," the voice repeated. The line went dead.

"Spencer?" Maeve asked, concerned. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Spencer responded. He looked at Mrs. Donovan. "How many people have this number?"

"You two and Steve are the only ones I've given it to," Mrs. Donovan replied, referring to her husband.

"Was it a prank call?" Maeve suggested.

"Maybe," Spencer replied. "How exactly did they ask for me?"

"They asked for your full name," Mrs. Donovan responded. "'Spencer Reid'. It did sound like a recording, though…"

At that moment, Spencer's cell phone went off with a text alert. He immediately checked it, hoping it might contain an explanation. The message was from Jessica. "Can you come home ASAP? I'm getting some weird messages."

"Weird how?" Spencer asked warily.

"Weird, like I think some stalker is trying to lure me into a trap."

"On our way," Spencer replied. He quickly shoved his phone back into his pocket. "We need to get home, now."

Jessica was sitting in her room, with both her pepper spray and Spencer's spare service weapon in reach. As soon as she saw Spencer, she pushed her laptop towards him. "This guy first messaged me a few months ago. I told him I wasn't interested in getting to know him unless he learned sign language. I didn't honestly think he would take me up on it, but…this just happened."

Spencer looked at the Skype conversation she had open on her laptop. The other person was some guy named 'Mark' whom Spencer had never seen nor heard of before.

"Hey, I've learned some sign language now. Wanna meet up?" Mark had said.

"Uh…wow. I wasn't expecting you to actually learn," Jessica had responded. "My friends and I typically hang out in the campus library around 4:00, you can join us if you like."

"I was kind of hoping to meet you alone."

"If this is your way of asking me out, then sorry, but I'm not interested. Also, I make it a policy not to be alone with total strangers if I can help it."

"Bitch, I learned sign language for you, and you're calling me a total stranger? The least you could do is talk to me!"

"I happen to live with an FBI agent, and I will be showing him this conversation. Do not contact me again."

Spencer finished reading in about two seconds, and swallowed nervously. "I think you're right that this was a trap. We should get you to Quantico and have Garcia trace this guy."

Maeve took a closer look at the profile photo. She was happily faithful to Spencer, but she couldn't deny that the kid was very attractive. "What are the odds that photo is fake, and he was hoping to lure Jessica in with a handsome face?"

Jessica blinked in surprise. "Was he? I will never understand you non-ace people. I looked at the photo, saw that I didn't recognize him, and stopped caring what he looked like."

"And I'm very glad that you did," Spencer agreed. "Come on, let's go."

Garcia traced the catfish and Reid's creepy phone call to Philadelphia, where—probably not coincidentally—a new Replicator victim had just been found. The team flew out to investigate, and protection details were placed on all their families. The BAU arrested a suspect, realized he'd been framed, and lost the trail at a very creepy room full of stalker photos in Pittsburgh.

The case was declared cold, and the BAU were sent home for a good night's sleep before tackling the other cases that had begun piling up. Both Jessica and Maeve sat in the living room as they anxiously awaited Spencer's return home. Even Bianca picked up on their mood, and took up her favorite 'guard' stance on the back of the couch.

Spencer finally arrived. He took off his messenger bag and joined his family on the couch with a sigh. "The case has gone cold," he revealed.

"So…what does that mean for us?" Jessica asked worriedly.

"In light of the messages you've received, I've convinced the Bureau to keep a protection detail on you for a while longer, but I don't know how long they'll keep it up."

"We can be careful," Maeve suggested. "Why don't I make sure I always drop Jessica off with one of her friends at Mendel? Make sure neither of us is alone when we go out."

Spencer nodded. "That's smart."

Jessica sighed. "Well this is going to get old real fast."

Spencer glared at her. "If it means you get to grow old, it's worth it."

"Hey, I didn't mean I wasn't going to go along with it," Jessica clarified. "Just that I really hope the case doesn't stay cold for long."

Maeve looked thoughtful. "You know, the fact that this guy tried to lure you out on your own suggests that he didn't think he could get his hands on you otherwise. Obviously we should still be cautious, but…that's a good sign, right?"

"It is," Spencer conceded. "He may have simply thought that using a ruse would be easier, but the added difficulty could make him turn his attention to other targets. Not that that's really a good outcome, either."

"It is if it slows him down," Jessica countered. "Although I suppose that also slows down the investigation."

"That's one of the unfortunate things about this line of work," Spencer remarked. "The less an unsub kills, the less information we have with which to find him."

"Well, he won't kill us," Maeve insisted. "Don't try to bring statistics into this—just accept that as a promise."

"I should be the one promising you that," Spencer argued. He looked at Jessica. "Instead, you keep ending up in danger because of my job."

"I know you don't mean for that to happen," Jessica replied. She paused, frowning. "Actually, I think this is the first time it has happened. Frank targeted me because of Gideon, Diane Turner was fixated on Maeve, and that assassin probably never would have known or cared that I exist if I didn't happen to be babysitting Henry that day."

"Randall Garner targeted you because of me," Spencer pointed out.

"He sent me a package," Jessica corrected. "From what I understood about that case, he was never planning to hurt me."

"Also, that whole thing with Diane Turner had nothing to do with the BAU whatsoever," Maeve added. "Things probably would have ended worse if I hadn't been dating you at the time."

Jessica nodded agreement. "You of all people should know, sometimes creepy stalkers just happen. At least I know I've got someone who will take me seriously and has the resources to actually do something about it."

Spencer swallowed. "That is a fair point. We've seen too many victims who reported suspicious behavior and nothing was done."

"They didn't report to you, obviously, or something would have been done," Maeve stated. "So you keep an eye out, you catch this guy, and above all you stop blaming yourself."

"All right," Spencer agreed with another sigh. "…you know I love you both, right?"

Both women responded by pulling him in for a group hug.

Peter Harper held a knife to his own throat. "You don't know what it's like—the thoughts and the images that won't go away." He glanced to the side, where Morgan had just pulled the hostage out of the pool. "This is my only option."

"Peter, that's not true," Reid replied. "Listen, I know exactly what it's like. I have an eidetic memory, and some of the things I've seen in this job…those images won't go away either. But you can work through those images. You just keep going, one day at a time, until one day you realize…you're strong enough for this."

"You think I haven't been trying that, my entire life?" Peter asked sardonically.

"I know that some days, it feels like the struggle will never end. But you can do it. You can be free of this, if you just put in the work. And when you do, that sense of accomplishment will make everything worth it."

Peter hesitated, still holding the knife.

"Just trust us, and let us help you," Reid urged.

"It'll be worth it?" Peter whispered.

"Every moment," Reid promised.

The knife clattered to the ground. JJ quickly moved forward to put Peter in cuffs.

On the jet back to Washington, JJ sat opposite Reid. "'One day at a time'…that was about more than your eidetic memory, wasn't it?" she asked quietly.

"It was enough to convince him," Reid replied, blatantly avoiding the question.

"And do you feel free of it?" JJ continued, remembering how Jessica had previously ranted at length about his continued struggles.

Reid sighed wearily and looked her in the eyes. "No. You know there's no such thing as a 'recovered' addict, only a recovering one. And there may not be any real cure for Peter either…but if a white lie saves his life, isn't that worth it?"

"Let's hope Peter thinks so," JJ replied worriedly.

The team had just finished a case in upstate New York where one of the victims was forced to participate in and clean up after the crimes. So, naturally, Spencer was alarmed when he got home and found Maeve applying stain remover to what appeared to be a large bloodstain on her clothes, while Jessica did her best to clean a similar stain out of a couch cushion.

"Has something happened?" Spencer worriedly asked Maeve.

"Just a surprise visit from Aunt Flo," Maeve replied, looking mildly embarrassed.

"You have an Aunt Flo?" Spencer responded, confused. "I take it you don't get along…"

Maeve snorted. "Not particularly, but what woman does?"

"What woman…what?" Spencer asked, totally lost now.

"Well, some have it worse than others, but I don't think any woman likes Aunt Flo's monthly visits," Maeve continued.

"Do her visits normally end with someone bleeding?" Spencer asked worriedly.

"Well…yes?" Maeve replied, baffled.

"Why haven't you mentioned this before?!" Spencer demanded. "Your aunt clearly needs either psychiatric help, an arrest warrant, or both!"

Maeve stared blankly for a few moments, then suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. Spencer stared back at her, completely thrown by the sudden turn in the conversation. Jessica abandoned the couch cushion and walked up to them. "What's so funny?"

"I told Spencer that Aunt Flo took me by surprise, and he thought I meant a literal aunt," Maeve explained, causing Jessica to burst out laughing as well. "And he was saying she clearly needs to be either institutionalized or arrested!"

"Sounds good to me!" Jessica agreed, still laughing. "Just so long as that doesn't mean I'm pregnant."

"What are you both talking about?!" Spencer demanded, frustrated and totally lost again.

"My period, Spencer!" Maeve finally clarified. "'Aunt Flo' is slang for a woman's menstrual cycle!"

"Oh," Spencer replied, understanding finally dawning. "Ohhh."

"But it was very sweet of you to try to stop her bothering us," Jessica added. She patted Spencer on the shoulder, then returned to cleaning the couch cushion.

Maeve tossed her pants into the washer and grabbed the detergent. "Between Mom's relapse and now this Replicator guy, I totally lost track of time. Hopefully, this won't happen again."

"I could keep track for you," Spencer offered.

"Thanks, sweetie, but there are some things a woman just has to do for herself. I'll be fine, don't worry."