Aitana had come in a little earlier today. It was the first day Hotch was back from his short break and she felt like she couldn't just get back to work like nothing. She might have learned something she shouldn't have and so she wanted to make it right however she could. And what she had at her fingertips were sweet pastries to hopefully push things in the right direction.

"Morning," she gave a light tap against Hotch's office door. He looked up from his desk that held a decent amount of paperwork from his absence. "Welcome back." Aitana raised the pink box in her hands.

Whatever he actually felt, Hotch still smiled at her and welcomed her inside. "Those aren't all for me, are they?"

"I don't know, how good are you with sugar?" Hotch bobbed his head for a short second, making her chuckle. She set the box down on the desk. "It's good to have you back, sir. It's been a doozy without you."

"I heard the case you all had to handle," Hotch said, head shaking slightly.

"Well, technically, most of us handled it." Aitana's wry look now made him smile.

"I know Strauss can be a lot, but—"

Aitana waved it off. "It's fine. I'm...let's just say that I followed Rossi's advice about some wine…"

Hotch raised his eyebrows at her. "Good to hear."

"I, um, I just wanted to see how you were doing?" Aitana pursed her lips together, bracing herself for his reaction. "Emily told me what happened with, uh, with your wife. I don't know if I was supposed to find out but I don't know all the details of what happened and I won't know it of course. I just…" Aitana exhaled deeply, "I just wanted to tell you that I know and I'm sorry for everything that happened."

Hotch stared at her long and hard and while she thought he was considering his next words, he was actually waiting to see if she was finished. When she didn't say anything else, he finally started to speak, "I never expected you to be in the dark about. At some point, you would find out."

"I'm sorry," Aitana felt the urge to say again, possibly a hundred more times. "I...I thought I had a bad experience but turns out that everyone has something and some people have very, very bad things happen to them. I'm really sorry."

"Serrano, thank you, really," Hotch said. "I'm not upset at all that you know."

Aitana pushed the box towards him. "You get first choice."

Hotch smiled at it. "You know you really don't want to get them used to this stuff…"

Aitana shrugged. "I can handle it. My parents are just happy that I'm coming by more often. They'll bake as many things as I want."

Hotch nodded. "It's good that you're reintegrating."

"Baby steps," Aitana repeated what got her through most of it. "Just baby steps."

"And the will," Hotch pointed out. "Because it's your own will that'll let you do that."

Aitana agreed. Things were very different for now than they were when she first came out of Witness Protection. For the first time now, she had a job that she liked, a job that she was progressively getting better at, and a group of people she was liking more by the day. She didn't want to let it go. She knew that for a fact.

~ 0 ~

"You're kidding right?" Penelope was ecstatic with the fresh round of pastries Aitana brought the team that morning. The pink box was full of delicious smelling bread. Penelope reached for her piece before anybody else around the conference table could. "Oh, oh, you're not kidding!"

Aitana chuckled. "All yours, Penelope." She grabbed her chair to take a seat while the others gathered around the box.

"You've been bringing these around more often," Morgan noted as he came in beside Penelope. "We might have to stop by this bakery to say our thanks."

Aitana laughed a bit too loud for Morgan's liking. "Oh boy, I can imagine how that would go. You'd flirt with my mother, wouldn't you?"

Morgan made a face. "It's not my fault I'm good with mothers."

"You're awful!"

"I spy a rainbow-sprinkled donut for Boy Wonder!" Penelope motioned the doctor over when he stepped into the room.

"I figured as much which is why I brought over some…" Spencer stopped by Aitana's chair with a coffee for her.

Her eyes lit up at the sweet scent drifting to her nose. "Light, right? I love me some coffee but it doesn't need a lot of shots in it."

Spencer wholeheartedly agreed with her. "Of course!" A lot of people liked to joke with him and the amount of sugar he put into his coffee, he was happy to see Aitana was on his side.

"Where's Prentiss?" Morgan asked after securing his sweet bread.

"I don't know," Penelope shrugged. She returned to her seat with her own bread.

"Her car wasn't here when I rode in this morning," remarked Spencer. He quickly grabbed his donut and headed for his seat.

"Hey," Emily strode into the room. She looked worse for wear but Morgan was the only one who dared to comment.

"Somebody have a long night?"

"Somebody want to mind their own business?" Emily uncharacteristically snapped in response.

There was a mutual dumbfounded reaction amongst the group that Emily didn't stop to notice, or care for that matter. She went to the furthest chair from the group and plopped down.

"Umm…" Aitana was certainly not aiming to be the second victim, so she played it cautiously, "I brought sweet bread again...if you'd like some." She was just about to reach the doing box when Emily refused it. Aitana wasn't stupid enough to insist.

A short moment later, Hotch and Rossi arrived. Hotch let them know they could start the meeting as Seaver would not be joining them this time. She was off on another assignment.

"Alright," Aitana rose up from her chair, Penelope bringing the screen behind them alive, "We're headed to Los Angeles—"

"Two times in one year," remarked Penelope.

"Mhm—wait, what?" Aitana paused to glance at Penelope, eyes wide. "Two times?" Penelope nodded. "I'm...we're only halfway into the year—ah, no, moving on." The others were amused with her but kept their chuckles hidden. "This one was an odd one, I…" She motioned Penelope to present the pictures they had of the recent victims. "Three women were all abducted from different parts of the city and murdered within the last couple of weeks. Shelly onto, 23-year-old bank teller, 15 days ago. Vickie Hagerg, 39-year-old art teacher, 6 days ago. And Linda Dean, a 28-year-old hostess at a bar, 2 days ago. They were all from different parts of the city, all different socioeconomic statuses."

"All 3 were held approximately 24 hours before being dumped in a public space," Penelope regretfully showed them the corpses.

"He's not hiding what he's doing," Morgan noted the very public spots the Unsub had chosen for each of the victims.

"And here's one weird part…"

"They all look like floaters," Emily said as she took study of the very pale skin of the corpses, along with the seemingly crumpled clothes as if they'd been wet.

"That's because all 3 women were drowned," Aitana said.

"Their bodies weren't found anywhere near water?" Spencer read from the file.

"No, they weren't. They were drowned somewhere else and transported to the dumpsite."

"But they weren't drowned in water…" Rossi said, but of course Spencer had already read ahead.

"Methanol?" He looked up at the team.

"Each woman had it in her lungs and was alive before she went into it," Penelope said.

"No water, just methanol," Emily said in thought. "Drowning's a tough way to kill someone. Slow."

"The unsub wants his victims to suffer, and he's got the space and privacy in which to do it," Hotch said, prompting the others to conclude on their own that the murder list would continue until they found the unsub."

~0~

As soon as the jet took off, the team got deeper into the case file.

"You guys want to show me how much more experienced you are by telling me, please, what the hell this unsub could possibly gain from removing a part of flesh like this one?" Aitana turned her copy of the file around so the others could see exactly what she talked about. Each of the victims had one perfectly cut square of flesh taken from their right foot. Penelope had not wanted to see any scrap of that so she purposely kept it out of the screen and left in the files. Aitana was, however, overly curious about the meaning of such a peculiar act. "I mean, all the victims were nude but there's no evidence of sexual assault on any of them so...what the hell? Unless we're talking about a foot fetishist, you actually can't get further away from sexual areas. What-what is it? A trophy?"

"Skin, independent of any other substance, would wither and die rather quickly," Spencer called from where he was making himself a cup of tea.

Aitana's face scrunched. That just left her even more lost. "Great, so then what does he want? Just a thrill?"

"Possibly," Morgan shrugged. "Maybe we should focus on the methanol as a way to get more clues. We don't really see it that often."

Spencer came over to take a seat with them now with his cup of tea in hand. "Methanol is compositionally speaking the simplest of the alcohols. It's actually ubiquitous in the environment. There are small traces of its vapor in the atmosphere, but atmospheric methanol is easily oxidized by sunlight."

"Is it toxic?" Morgan asked. This time, they'd let the entire flood of explanations come out without an interruption.

"Ingesting 10 milliliters of it will cause permanent blindness, and as little as 30 is potentially fatal."

Emily grabbed her copy of the file and skimmed it again to make sure she remembered correctly. "These victims had between 5 and 6 ounces in their lungs."

"You know, if they were immersed in it, they would have died even without ingesting or inhaling it. When absorbed through the skin, it depresses the central nervous system to an unsustainable degree."

Aitana was positively bemused with how Spencer had a response for everything they asked him. It would never cease to be fascinating for her. How could someone fit all that information into one head? Well, she would definitely take her turn like the rest of the team and ask a question. "What's it used for?"

And just like with the others, Spencer didn't skip a beat when answering her. "What isn't it used for? A solvent, an antifreeze. In World War II the Germans used it for rocket fuel. It's used in wine-making. Its most commonplace use, however, is in the creation of other chemicals. Methanol can become plastic, plywood, paint, explosives, permanent-press textiles. It's essentially the chemical used to separate other chemicals from each other."

Aitana would give him the full points this time.

"Can it be bought? Is it tracked?" asked Hotch.

"California's got some of the strictest environmental laws in the country. I'm sure it's regulated," Rossi remarked but it appeared like Spencer thought differently.

"Methanol is also used in making biofuels, which quite a few people have been doing at home. I'd imagine the sale of it is fairly commonplace." And it would turn out later that Spencer was quite right.

~0~

Based in L.A. would end up doing more damage to their case. Aitana met with Spencer, Hotch, and Emily in the conference room with a near grumbling face.

"I know I struggle with the press but I think I'm more upset right now that I won't have to do anything with it this time," she said, planting the three victims' cases on the table.

"Why not?" Emily asked her. She lifted her gaze from the map Spencer had set up and was still going through it.

"Two of the 3 women weren't even reported missing when the cops found them. There's no coverage because the media doesn't see them as pertinent, outstanding amongst actually reported missing cases."

"The unsub is dumping their bodies 24 hours after abducting them. It takes longer than that for a missing persons report to clear the system," Spencer would say in the midst of his work.

"Thank you, well of knowledge," Aitana said with a sigh. "For the time being, the press won't be a problem. Anything on the methanol?"

At that, Spencer turned right away from the map, finger raised to announce his findings. "Methanol can be easily purchased from any chemical supply house in Southern California. It's not controlled. You can buy it in large quantities or small quantities."

Hotch and Rossi, along with primary detective Bailey, returned from the coroner's office with little to nothing for the case, except that the victims had all ingested the methanol.

"I've charted the abduction and disposal sites," Spencer stepped back for them to better the marked map. "Linda Dean was taken from Hollywood. Her body was dumped in Echo Park. Shelly was last seen in the Garment district. Her body was dumped in Sherman Oaks. And finally, Vickie Hagerg was taken in Torrance south of the city. Her body was left in Westlake."

"It's a huge geographical area," Morgan would say what the others were unfortunately thinking. The vast range didn't leave them a lot to work with.

"The only area the unsub hasn't hit yet is east of downtown, which means we can either eliminate it or it's the one place left," Spencer added in a quieter tone, knowing that he was providing virtually nothing.

"Well…" Rossi started when the silence fell over them, "We could say that the locations of the dumpsites means this guy's very mobile."

Spencer would nod in agreement. "All of the dumpsites, including the most recent one, are between the 110 and 405 freeway and the 5 and 10 north and south."

"Linda Dean's family said she always took the Red Line home from work at night, but the subway in L. A. stops running at 1 a.m," Emily said. "She clocked out of work at 5 past 1:00."

"L. A. at 1 a.m.? She probably didn't walk home," Morgan said.

"All the victims had breathed an aerosolized chloroform, and to do that he needs an enclosed space," Hotch said.

"You know, chloroform's a lot more controlled than methanol," Spencer said, hoping that would be enough to spark a new lead for them. "I'll have Garcia track any large quantity purchases or thefts from chemical supply houses."

Detective Bailey moved around the room, rethinking everything they'd learned so far. "So we're looking for a vehicle, one that could be in any area of Los Angeles at 1:00 in the morning and not attract attention. I hate to say it, but that could be a police car."

"Or a taxi," Aitana spoke up. "I saw like five different ones on the way here."

Yet another task for the one and only Penelope Garcia.

~ 0 ~

"There's 7 companies," Garcia had the information shortly later. "I checked all 7 cab companies that service the Hollywood and Vermont area, and none of the drivers reported picking anyone up between 11:00 and 2:00 the night Linda went missing."

"And they know that for sure?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah. They seemed really certain."

"Well, one of the drivers may have picked someone up off the meter," Emily offered. It wasn't that far fetched. "The cabs have GPS?"

"Yeah," Garcia was quick to answer, "Taxis are tracked more than Gaga's Twitter."

"What does that mean?" Spencer said, making a face as he tried to understand the comparison.

"I'll explain it to him, Garcia," Rossi said just as she was about to say something no doubt long and sarcastic.

"Yeah, teach him to worship the other Lady G, boss. Ta and ta!" Penelope said before hanging up.

"You don't know Lady Gaga?" Aitana was giving Spencer an incredulous look. He was halfway shrugging when the others continued.

"So there were no taxis in the area…" Emily began, wheels of the mind turning to find another alternative.

"What about a gypsy cab?" Rossi suddenly asked. "They roam around in unregistered vehicles with fake insignias that look legit."

"There are 2, 300 registered cabs in the city and at least as many unregistered," detective Bailey remarked.

"And no one pays any attention when they get into a cab. If he's unregistered, he's not gonna sit outside taxi stands and wait to pick up fares in the traditional way."

"Which makes him either harder to find," Hotch muttered. Time was something they did not have. "This guy could be anywhere. Detective, can you gather everyone?" Bailey nodded. "We'd like to give the profile."

Bailey left the room to gather the others. Aitana neared Hotch more concerned than earlier. "If this guy's using a fake cab then maybe we should use the press now."

Hotch thought about it until he saw Spencer heading towards the small board they'd brought in earlier. He was writing down the ingredients they had so far but at the end he stopped. He turned towards the table then back to the board twice.

Even Aitana forgot what she'd requested watching him go through that two more times. "You okay over there…?"

"When I was in school, we used to use methanol to separate chemicals from each other," he started, though it was clear he was still trying to connect the two dots. "Whatever we did, we'd clip a sample of the source material to label and keep next to the output."

"What kind of samples?" asked Hotch.

They saw the connection in his eyes before he answered. Spencer turned to them, eyes wide as whatever he realized was still being processed. "Square samples 2 inches by 2 inches. I think this guy's a scientist and he's experimenting."

That certainly put a twist into the case, they just weren't sure if it was a good one or a worse one.

~0~

While the profile was given, Aitana focused on the single-handedly releasing the same profile to the press. The 'baby steps' turned into one huge step today and it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Yes, she was nervous — there were at least half a dozen reporters waiting for her when she stepped up to the podium — but she focused on the most important thing at the moment: the victims. Releasing the profile was the only way they could decrease the chance of there being another victim.

"This is a highly intelligible man we're looking for between the ages of 20 and 40. He's been abducting women between the same ages with the ruse of an unregistered gypsy cab." Aitana ignored the floundering questions with the vague information. "This man may stick out in that he exhibits odd behavior, can't hold a conversation very well. He may have little to no eye contact when you step into his cab. But do not be fooled because as I said before, this man is very intelligible. He uses a breathable form of methanol to incapacitate his victims. One of the intentions of this profile is to encourage any person who may have had a confrontation with this man to come forwards. If you have had an encounter with this man, please contact…the local precinct at the number that's shown on your screen. In the meantime, I implore everyone in the community to be vigilant about the taxi cabs you are taking, women especially."

By the time Aitana finished, she had dozens and dozens of questions being thrown at her. She'd managed to start giving her press conferences without stuttering and stammering but now she had to figure out a way to get around those questions. She couldn't prepare for them like she would with the speeches. She just had to learn from experience.

Only half an hour later, she got a call from Spencer. "What's up?"

"Where are you?" He went straight to the point.

"Still clearing up the last of the reporters, why?"

"There's been another victim found."

Aitana held her breath at that. The victim had to have been dumped today, no doubt close to the release of their profile. "We were too late for her," she sighed.

"But we may be onto something, don't fret."

Aitana made a face, almost laughing which was the last thing Spencer expected her to do during this situation. "People still say 'fret'?"

Spencer was now making the face, scrunching his nose. "Possibly. But you know, the word's meaning doesn't even come close to the meaning of the original word or came from."

Aitana's eyebrows raised with curiosity. "It doesn't?"

"No. It originated from the old English word 'freton' which means 'to devour like an animal'."

Aitana blinked several times as she processed his words. She couldn't help but smile. "Point number God-knows-how-many-numbers to Dr. Reid. I will take my defeat for today as humbly as I can."

Normally Spencer would've been more self-conscious about his random blurts of information but Aitana rarely made him feel anything like that. Hearing her say that, so casually and playful, warmed his heart.

"Spencer?" she called him twice before he snapped out of his thoughts. "What else you got for me?"

It was then that Spencer remembered he'd called for two things. "Yeah! Um...we may have someone who called saying she talked to the guy. You're closer."

Aitana nodded. "That is something. Send me the address and I'm on my way."

"Great, Morgan will meet you there."

~0~

"Hey," Aitana greeted Morgan as soon as she arrived at the block. She could already see two officers standing by the woman claiming to have met their unsub.

"Hey there, spicy sprinkles," Morgan pulled his shades off for a second. He smiled when she rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Do you and Garcia just randomly come up with these nicknames or do you actually have like meetings together to agree on them?"

Morgan shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes both."

Aitana shook her head. "I don't even want to know what else goes on in those meetings."

"Hey now," he chastised playfully, "Jealous?"

"You wish." She chuckled and started for the officers.

The woman seemed shifty when she met the two agents. She was sharply dressed as if she was heading to work, or possibly coming home from work.

"I don't know if he's the guy, but he was out of control," she explained, "His cab was unregistered, and he actually made me, a paying customer, get out."

"Ok, was that all that happened?" Aitana asked.

"Well, I was on the phone when I first got in the cab. I mean…" she paused for a moment, "I think he was listening to something."

Morgan tilted his head at the woman. "What do you mean?"

"Some dumb recording of himself talking."

"What was he saying on the recording?"

"I don't know. I tried to get his cab number down, but I was really flustered. I only got the last 2 digits." The woman showed them her right first where 2 numbers were written down on her skin.

"Thanks for that, ma'am," Aitana said, taking a mental note of the numbers. Two was better than nothing and they did have the whiz that was Penelope Garcia.

"These two officers will take down all your information," Morgan gestured for the officers to near them. "They're probably gonna ask you to look at some photos."

The woman made a face. "How long is that gonna take?"

Aitana made a face right back, hoping that it had the woman rethinking her priorities right now. "I'm not really sure, ma'am, but you may actually help save someone's life," she made sure to enunciate slowly. It seemed to have the woman shifting uncomfortably which was definitely something Aitana would take. Some people were just too much.

"She's something," Morgan remarked when the woman had been taken away.

"L.A.," Aitana said as if that was enough of an explanation.

"All right, if he's listening to recordings of himself, he's not only antisocial, he's probably delusional as well."

"Making him even more dangerous," Aitana nodded.

Morgan glanced at the cabs around them. "Follow me," he said suddenly, "I have an idea."

~ 0 ~

"Could it be smell? Could smell be what's attracting him to his victims?"" Aitana would later apologize to Spencer for such a rude straight-to-point phone call. She and Morgan were almost sure they might have found the way their unsub was picking his victims. His idea of getting into the cab to simulate the unsub's thought pattern turned out to be a genius idea.

"Distillation extraction," Spencer was quick to say, though it left Aitana wondering what exactly he had meant.

"Another point to Dr. Reid but right now can you just explain what that means?" From the side, Aitana heard Morgan snicker. She rolled her eyes and focused on what Spencer was saying.

"Methanol can be used to create scents or aromas. If you soak something in it for hours, it draws out the essential oils…" There was a sudden pause in Spencer's explanation and Aitana suspected that he had realized something else. "Aitana, let me call you right back, ok?"

"Uuh, sure?" Aitana shrugged her shoulders as the call went dead.

Later in the evening, they regrouped back in the precinct to go over what they had and get some makeshift dinner in the process.

Rossi stationed himself in front of the coffee machine while the others grabbed seats around the conference table. "Unless the victims all wore excessive amounts of perfume, it would take a hell of nose to detect smell through a taxi window."

"Not necessarily," Spencer raised a finger, making it no surprise for the others. "People with the olfactory disorder hyperosmia have an oversensitivity to smell. They typically pick up scents that other people can't."

"That must suck then," Aitana mumbled under her breath.

"I don't think he'd be going after their perfume. It's already artificial."

"So they probably weren't wearing anything on their skin," Emily realized. "Something about their natural scent compels him?"

"Smell's a powerful trigger for memory. He might be trying to bring back the memory of somebody he lost," Morgan said. It was the logical thing to think of.

At that moment, Penelope called in to tell them she had a possible lead of their unsub. "I have exactly one address at which every piece of equipment Reid listed was delivered to!"

"That's great, Garcia, send it in," instructed Hotch.

"On it!"

And as soon as they had the address, they took off. The latest victim could still be alive so time was of the essence.

They arrived at the house to find it dead quiet but they would be fools to believe that. Hotch led the team and the rest of the officers towards the house, sending a flock of them around the back.

"Morgan and Prentiss, take the back," Hotch ordered the pair to move out.

"He's got eyes on us," Rossi nodded over to the security camera perched up on the entrance ceiling.

"Which means so does the victim," Aitana said, preferring to think only about that woman waiting for them.

Hotch prepared to kick the front door when the unsub failed to show himself. Just then, they heard Morgan shouting from the back. "He's running!"

"Serrano,and Reid stay with Prentiss, search the house!" Hotch said quickly as he and Rossi ran back to the SUV.

"C'mon!" Spencer led Aitana into the house with a strong door kick. Emily had no doubt already entered through the back. They searched the living room and kitchen until Emily led the way towards the basement.

The trio cautiously stepped down until they opened the basement door.

"Please help me! Help me!" They soon heard Anisa's cry from inside.

She was tied down to a slab, naked, and in tears. The trio hurried inside to get her out. Emily pulled her jacket off to cover the poor woman up while Spencer worked on releasing the slab from the chains threatening to spill her over into the methanol.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Anisa burst into fresh sobs once they had her completely free.

"You'll be alright now," Emily promised her. All they had to do now was catch the unsub. Unfortunately, the chase for him would lead to his death.

~ 0 ~

On the jet ride back home, most of the team was nearly knocked out after the case they had. Aitana found Emily wide awake, though it seemed like there was a reason why. She slid into the seat opposite of Emily, it being one of the few left open by their sleeping co-workers.

"Hey," she set down a cup of coffee on the table. She thought she'd been pretty quiet but it seemed like it was enough to cause a jolt in Emily. It certainly pulled the phone down from Emily's hands. "Sorry, is, uh, everything okay?"

Emily cleared her throat. "Yeah, of course." Her eyes briefly flickered over to a sleeping Morgan. She already had this type of conversation with him earlier in the day and the last thing she wanted was to have a go with Aitana. She certainly didn't seem like the kind to be nosy.

"Somebody on the phone?" Aitana made a languid point to the phone sitting on the table between them.

Emily shrugged. "Yeah, uh, friend."

"Are they okay?"

"Yes," Emily's sharp answer came as a surprise to Aitana. She'd never gotten an answer like that. Emily caught herself—confirming for sure that Aitana wasn't the nosy type based on that reaction—and sought to ease things. "I'm just tired, barely slept, you know?"

Aitana slowly nodded. She knew better than to keep asking questions. She was still getting to know everybody in the team and she had to take baby steps there too. They wouldn't tell her everything in one go. "Okay," she picked up her cup to drink and thus ended the conversation. After all, whatever that was bothering Emily couldn't be that bad.

A/N:

P.S. As always, I have a tumblr account dedicated to my fanfic works! It's a place where anyone can comment about a story or even just talk to me! I often drop aesthetic work belonging to my stories too! Feel free to check it out, my URL is "saiilorstars"