Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: Sawyer Talbot, Isaiah Talbot, Jackson Riley, James Gordon, Tyson Brown, Talia.

Please, please review XD

This is my first time posting for the story after a year or 2 – those stories didn't go quite well :/ AND it's the first time I'm writing for this pairing ^_^ Enjoy!

P.S This was going to be a massive one shot, but it's already almost 10,000 words, so I thought I'd break it up ^_^

Spencer

"Science may never come up with a better office communication system than the coffee break." ― Earl Wilson

No one seemed to know that I was bisexual – my mom and Ethan did, but no one else. It wasn't that I was hiding it, quite the opposite, in fact... I just never out right mentioned it and the majority of the encounters I had found myself in, whilst being in the BAU, had been with women.

I knew I could correct people if they made the mistake of assuming what my sexuality was but, after you find out that your best friend seems to be averse to you being with another guy, it makes you think twice about it – especially when it was said best friend that you found desirable. I was fairly surprised that none of them had profiled it yet... Yes, we weren't supposed to profile each other, but sometimes you couldn't help the things you spotted when working so closely with people.

Sighing, I shook my head and returned my focus to the case at hand.

We were close to wrapping it up – we knew who it was, we knew where they were going, we knew who the next target was... All we had to do was wait – bide our time until the perfect opportunity to take this guy down.

Sawyer Talbot – thirty-nine year old, white male – had been on a rampage through the small town of Carmel-by-the-Sea, California, executing as many gay couples as he could. It was difficult to find the connection between the victims, every couple seemingly completely different to the next...that was until JJ noticed that, for one, Talbot was targeting couples who seemed to have a 'clear dominant and submissive' partner, but also that the identified 'submissive' partners all seemed to have the same physicality and appearance. It was something obvious that was easy to miss and, thankfully, we rectified our mistake quickly. We had identified Talbot's stressor as his only son – Isaiah – had 'come out of the closet' to his severely homophobic father. Talbot had snapped, killing his seventeen year old son and his son's boyfriend, now seeing his son in every 'submissive' partner of gay couples he saw. Talbot would follow the couple for a week, learning their routine... He would find a way inside – easy to do, considering he was well known to everyone in the town – waiting until his victims were relaxed and unaware so he could kill him. It turned out that, as a teenager, Talbot had been abused by his alcoholic father – sexually, physically, emotionally, verbally and psychologically... Talbot's father had been his first victim. Now, we had three gay couples, brutally murdered and we were desperately trying to save a fourth.

When JJ had first presented to case to us, it had been hard to actually listen to what Talbot had done to these men and start to profile him, let alone look at the pictures of the scenes. Yes, we had seen some awful things, but it was hard to swallow when you could, somehow, identify with the victims in the case. Whilst the 'dominant' partner had been shot through the head and stabbed in the genitals, the 'submissive' partner had come off a lot worse. Not only was there severe trauma to the genitals, but there was also: a mass amount of bruising to the abdomen and face, broken ribs, extensive cuts to the torso and the word 'WRONG' carved into their foreheads in large block letters. The most recent victim who fit the 'submissive' stereotype in this case – Jackson Riley, sixteen – had also been raped...

It was going to be a tough case to get over.

We had managed to save the couple that Talbot had been going after next; taking him down before he even had a chance to pull his gun. It was a huge relief for all of us and, as you can imagine, a massive shock to the couple – James Gordon and Tyson Brown.

Hotch, Emily and I found Gordon and Brown in their kitchen, the two of them sitting as close as possible at the table, in shock. Statements were taking from both of them before we made sure the two men were sure to be in safe hands with the local police, making our way to meeting Derek, Rossi and JJ outside where they had Talbot.

After a week of little-to-no sleep, everyone was close to crashing where they stood, the caffeine high from all the coffee we had been putting into our systems starting to wear off. Knowing that we were close to going home, close to being back in the comfort of our own homes, was what kept us going.

No one said anything as we exited the house, a few other inhabitants of the area gathering around, trying to understand what was going on. The police department were successful with keeping the small amount of onlookers calm and behind the tape, keeping them all as far away as possible from Talbot.

All I wanted to do was hand him over, just so we could go home. We all needed a proper night's rest. But why would things be that easy?

Just as they were walking Talbot to the back of a police car, I actually got a good look at him – and him at me. Frowning slightly, I couldn't help but feel a tingle of recognition in my head. Yes, the name had sounded familiar; yes, the face had looked familiar... I just couldn't seem to place where.

"Long time, no see, Freak." Talbot smirked, his face contorted in disgust.

Now I remember...

I just froze on the spot, suddenly far more awake than I had been before, staring at the murderer not too far away from me. To be honest, I thought I was going to throw up. Throwing up sounded like a very nice option as of that moment.

"Tell me, still like to be tied to goal posts?" he spat.

I could feel the blood draining out of my face as Derek assisted in shoving Talbot – with far more force than necessary – into the back of the police car, slamming the door shut so hard that the whole car rocked slightly.

It wasn't like it was uncommon for me to repress my memories – I had done it with my dad, so why not the goal post incident? However, now I had seen Talbot again and he had spoken...well, unwanted memories came pouring back into my brain like a waterfall. Talbot had been the captain of the football team – it was his idea for the 'prank' and it was him that did the majority of the work. I had become his biggest target during my high school experience and I couldn't describe how thrilled I was when I graduated at twelve... I honestly thought I would never see any of them again, I was hoping I wouldn't – life was very unfair and very cruel.

Thankfully, Derek didn't say anything – he could deduce the basics and that was all he needed to know. Instead, his hand clamped down onto my shoulder and steered me towards one of the SUVs parked a few feet away from us, gesturing for me to get inside whilst the others finished up.

At that moment, home felt far too far away.

On the jet back to Virginia, everyone passed out in their seats – I was forced onto the couch, the only excuse being because I was, apparently, the worst off and 'absolutely had to lie down'.

For once, I didn't argue.

Surprisingly, the few hours that we spent on the jet asleep, before we arrived back in Virginia, were enough to wake us up, making us feel far more relaxed and energized. It was because of that that Derek had suggested we all go out for drinks, claiming we all deserved it.

For once, everyone agreed.

"Are you sure, Reid? No one will blame you if you want to go home." Derek assured me; keeping his voice low so only I would hear him.

Rolling my eyes, I raised an eyebrow, turning to face him.

"I have one of two options. One, I go to a bar and talk with my friends – the only ones I have that aren't through blood or marriage – so I can forget about what happened today." I replied. "Or, two, go home and drink alone in my apartment. Option one sounds far more appealing, don't you think?"

Derek didn't argue at that, choosing instead to put his hand on my shoulder again and steer me towards his car – he had given me a ride to work on the morning we got the case, so it was the only logical thing to do at this moment in time. I would have taken my own car if it hadn't been in the shop that day – I really needed to think about getting a new one... Don't get me wrong, I love my car. It held a lot of sentiment for me...but it was getting a tad too old now.

Mental note: search for affordable car. Maybe even ask Derek to help?

Derek didn't say anything as we both got into the car, throwing both of our go bags into the back and letting himself relax into the leather seat. It was a little amusing – to me – watching this. I mean, he could just as easily have done that on the jet, but he never seemed to be truly relaxed until he was surrounded by the thing he associated with home.

"Wanna talk about what happened, Pretty Boy?" Derek asked as he started driving.

I knew from experience that this would be the extent of his pushing; only asking if I wanted to talk, unless he thought I would do something stupid and irrational or it was something that could compromise my safety. Derek didn't make it any easier to try and get rid of the...feelings, but I could hardly blame him.

To be honest, I didn't know if I wanted to talk about it or not. Would anyone want to talk about the people that tormented them?

But I trusted Derek. I trusted him to listen and not to judge – he never judged.

So I told him. I told him everything. I told him everything from the first shove in the hallway, all the way up until figuring out that it was Talbot's idea to tie me to that goal post. I told him everything they did and said – for the first time, ever, I told somebody.

It was in no way easy, but once I started I couldn't stop... And Derek just listened.

"I've gotten used to the questions and the weird looks and people thinking I'm some kind of computer." I sighed, coming to the end of the explanation. "I've gotten used to people calling me a freak, made my piece with it, even. I just never thought I'd see him again."

"You're not a freak, Reid." Derek replied, a slight harshness in his voice. "Intelligent? Hell yeah. Unique? Who isn't? Freak? Hell no. So you get that idea out of your pretty little head."

Even though he didn't mean it how it sounded, I couldn't help but smile as Derek's last sentence left his mouth. Recently, more comments such as that had been making an appearance, but I put that down to Derek just being Derek.

Still, it made me smile.

We managed to grab a booth near the bar, around the edge of the dance floor. Derek, Emily and Penelope had situated themselves in the crowd of dancers, JJ was beating a few of the more sober patrons at darts, Hotch and Rossi were discussing the pros and cons of Charlie Chaplin – yes, it sounded more like Hotch and Gideon, but Rossi seemed to appreciate the man too – whilst I sat there trying to relax and have fun.

Every now and then, Derek or Emily or Penelope or JJ would find their way back to the booth for a few minutes before disappearing again, otherwise I was just left with Hotch and Rossi as they conversed about the actor.

I should have seen this coming, to be honest – something like this always happened. Of course, I usually found people to talk to about Star Trek or Doctor Who. But, not only did I feel opposed to talking to strangers tonight, I was hoping that I would get to spend at least an hour with my friends.

It felt weird, calling them my friends. Sometimes, I didn't know if I should. Sure, they knew me better than anyone – beside my mom – but I didn't know if they were my friends. Definitely colleagues, we were a strange family unit too... But was I allowed to call them my friends?

Sighing, as the four missing members of the team migrated back to the table, I went to get another drink. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait half an hour to be served – the bartender knew me, it was a bar I came to a lot with the team. I suppose it also helped that the bartender was a friend of one of my cousins. As soon as he saw me he refilled my glass, not having to ask what I wanted – a Ravenswood Lodi Zinfandel (red wine) – 'on the house, of course'.

It really did pay to know the people that worked there.

Smiling slightly, I thought that, maybe, the night would get better. It was a stupid delusion, yes, but it made me feel better anyway.

Well, that was, until I was a few steps away from the table when someone blocked my way to my seat.

He was a smidge shorter than me, blonde, green eyes – the typical surfer type that you would expect to find in Florida or LA. A confident smirk was plastered onto his face as he looked over me slowly – very not my type.

"Hey, Cutie. How do you like your coffee in the morning?" he practically purred, the innuendo clear in his tone.

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened to me, I would admit... It was, however, the first time it had happened with my teammates as witnesses to it.

"No." I said, simply, pushing past blonde-and-purry.

I walked those last few steps towards the booth, sliding into my seat next to Derek. But, of course, the guy didn't leave it there. He, apparently, had to follow, seemingly baffled at the fact that he had been rejected.

"What? Am I not your type?" he demanded.

"Wow, you got it in one. You must be a genius." I sighed, my tone far more sarcastic than I intended it to be.

"I'm everyone's type."

"Well, you think very highly of yourself."

But he didn't leave. He stood there, arms crossed, glaring at me, looking as if he was wondering why I would turn him down. People like him were what made me hate coming to bars or clubs – the arrogant asshole who think they're the be-all-and-end-all.

It annoyed me, immensely.

There was only one thing I could think of to get this guy to leave me alone – something I had become accustomed to using. But that meant I would be revealing my best kept secret to my teammates.

Might as well get it over with.

"Look, I like my coffee how I like my guys. And you," I replied, bored, giving him an extremely quick once over. "Are so not it. Now leave – before I have you arrested for harassing a federal officer."

Just like every other guy I had said that too, he scrambled away as fast as he could. Honestly, that was the best part of guys trying to hit on me – watching them run away. It was, actually, quite amusing. Sure, that made me sound mean, but you didn't know what most of the guys that hit on me were like!

Of course, now, I had to turn and face my teammates... This would be interesting.

It was surprisingly easy explaining everything – considering what had happened, I suppose I really shouldn't have been surprised. I had to clarify that I was actually bisexual – Penelope got way too enthusiastic that she could finally talk about guys to a guy...

All of them were supportive, but had also wondered how they had not seen it. Penelope had even gone on a tirade of how her 'gay-dar must be broken!' It was rather entertaining, if I was being completely honest.

"Who else knows?" JJ asked, leaning across the table slightly.

"My mom and my friend Ethan." I replied, shrugging slightly.

"What about the rest of your family?" Emily frowned, fiddling with her glass.

"I don't know how my dad will react, my cousins are homophobic, the only uncle I was close to is dead and I'm not close to my aunts... Apart from my mom, I'm pretty sure my family would disown me."

Apparently, that wasn't what they were expecting to hear, nor did it seem to be what they were hoping I would say.

I wasn't too bothered with my relationship with my family. My mom and Uncle Daniel had always been the ones I was closest – they knew everything about me. I knew that what I had wasn't a typical family, but it wasn't like I could change anything... You just had to live with what you were given.

The topic shifted away from my family, but was still concentrated on me, questions being asked left-right-and-centre. And, of course, when you have Penelope involved in a conversation such as this, she gets the idea of setting up a blind date. So, the question of what my type was had been asked – which then lead to the girls trying to deduce it.

"Well, there was Lila and Austin – nothing similar about those two. Lila was blonde and an actress, Austin was brunette and a bartender." JJ hummed.

"Maybe only a type with the men?" Emily mused.

"Come on, Baby Genius, what do you look for in Mr Right." Penelope grinned, waggling her eyebrows.

"Figure out how I take me coffee and you'll know." I replied, suppressing a smirk – it was actually rather amusing.

Glaring slightly, the three women turned in on each other, all of them trying to figure it out. It was something that they all knew; they just didn't know they knew. The only thing they could remember was lots of sugar.

This is going to be interesting...

After the incident at the bar, I had JJ, Penelope, Emily and – surprisingly – Derek all tried to see how I took my coffee, all of them trying to get more information.

I understood why the girls were doing it – I completely expected them to... The question was, why Derek? I had asked, trying to make a joke out of it to hide my uneasiness – he just grinned and said it was because he was my best friend.

Now, obviously, I knew the implications of the role a best friend had in someone's life – just because I had never actually had one before Derek, didn't mean I was completely oblivious to the fact – so I was completely aware that it was commonplace for one to confide everything into this one particular person.

Of course, if I did this...I would most likely lose the only best friend I had ever had. For good.

That was why I started bringing a thermos flask to work, being aware of who was around when I grabbed more coffee. Rossi and Hotch were the only ones to continue acting 'normally' since that night, ever the professionals, but reminding me that they were always there if I needed to talk – or get away from the persistent craziness that was the rest of our team. I didn't see why they felt the need to remind me now, but I was grateful none the less.

"Come on, Baby Genius! We just want to see you happy." Penelope pestered, following me into the bullpen from the elevator. "Telling me would make things so much easier!"

"I'm happy the way I am, Garcia."I sighed. "I don't need you to set me up with anyone."

"But –"

"I'm fine. One of the reasons I didn't tell you about this is because I knew you'd try and set me up with people!"

I placed my bag on my desk, turning around to face the brightly coloured, bubbly techy, running a hand through my hair – back to the 'boy band' look.

"We only do it because we love you." she insisted, placing her hand on my arm.

"I know. And I appreciate it, honestly, I do – but it's not needed." I smiled.

"Can you at least tell me anyway?"

I couldn't help but laugh, slipping out of her grasp to start on the files on my desk – Derek and Emily were most likely going to add more to my pile when they thought I wasn't looking, so it was better to get a head start.

"You'll need to try harder than that." I smirked.

Penelope's methods did improve after that, trying to catch me off guard. JJ and Emily did the same – obviously Penelope got to them. It would admit that, even though it was annoying, I was enjoying their frustration a lot. Probably far more than I should.

Their 'investigation' into my 'preferences' took a bit of a back sit when we had cases, though the ones that seemed to come our way only took a few days to solve, so it wasn't that much peace from the constant questioning and pushing.

It was as we were getting back from a case from Phoenix, Arizona – kidnapping and murders of ten year old blondes – that things changed, though.

The case was over quickly, dealt with far before the twenty four hour mark – thank God – so none of us were tired, though it was fairly early in the morning. That was why we all made a detour to a coffee shop near the BAU, deciding that a cup of coffee, someone else made for once, was in order.

The coffee shop was one that I went to everyday before work – the workers knew me, knew my order by heart...they were all very friendly.

As always, since this case had finished, Penelope was back to trying to get the answers she wanted, along with JJ, Emily and Derek – Hotch and Rossi just stayed out of the conversation, though I knew they would interfere if they could tell it was starting to get too much for me.

Now, everything was going fine. I was amused by their efforts, the fact that they thought they could find a bribe was hilarious. But then Talia came over.

Talia had been working at the coffee shop ever since I had started going there – the two of us had hit it off rather well. She was very much like Penelope – bubbly, happy, outgoing – but far more reserved than her. Of course, she knew nothing of the information I was withholding from my teammates, which was why things went downhill as soon as she spoke to me.

Talia had handed out the mugs to everyone, passing mine over in the thermos flask I had brought with me. I thought that would be it, but I was wrong.

"Sweet, strong and black – just how you like it!" Talia grinned, handing me the flask before going back to the counter.

Everything in our little group went deadly silent – I knew I had paled more than I usually was. So I did the first thing that came to mind.

I ran.

I had managed to get into the BAU, grab my files and drive back to my apartment – I had collected my car from the shop before we went on the case – before anyone had turned up – of course I sent a quick text to Hotch letting him know I would be finishing the files at home and to let me know if another case came up. At that moment in time, I just couldn't really face any of them.

Especially not Derek.

Sighing, I placed the files on the coffee table in front of the couch where I was sitting, turning on the TV I had recently bought – Derek had been coming round more often...guess that would stop now. The TV sprang to life, immediately showing a documentary – Aftermath: The Legacy of Suicide – on the channel I had left it on last.

It was merely something I could listen to as I sipped at the hot coffee in my flask, trying hard to push aside everything that had happened in that coffee shop – sometimes I hated having an eidetic memory, sometimes I wished I was normal. I didn't want to be a freak.

I didn't do any of the files.

I didn't do much of anything.

I just sat on the couch, watching TV and slowly sipping my coffee.

As I sat there, trying to focus on what was being said, my phone vibrated – almost – non-stop, the majority of my team were calling and texting. None of them were Hotch, though, so I didn't bother picking up and answering.

I was surprised, however, that the one that was calling and texting the most was Derek.

To be honest, I never pegged Derek as being so cruel. I would have hoped he would have left it alone, tried to forget about it... I didn't think I would be wrong.

Sighing, I decided that it just might be a nice time to call my mom – I had been doing that recently, calling as well as sending letters. That moment in time seemed like a good time.

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