Chapter 1: Disorder

She is a panther.

That was Spencer Ried's first thought when she entered the bar. It took every ounce of strength to not immediately look at her across the room, not to run like prey from a predator. He pretended to not notice as she slunk across the room towards him. Turn away, he told himself, pretending to look around the room for her. Let her think you are weak.

"Spencer?" He turned.

And there she was. Cat Adams, Miss .45, with a questioning smile as she made eye contact. "Cat?" He stood quickly. "Hi, yes, hi."

She moved to hug him. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Oh, uh, no, sorry, I have a thing about germs." He stepped away from her.

"Sorry." She lowered her arms. A cautious smile played on her lips for a moment before she paused, glancing at the table. "Can I sit down?"

"Oh, yes, please, of course." Spencer was suddenly nervous. It would get better after he got her talking. Why did he think this was a good idea? He sat, watching her as she sat and took off her coat. Should he have pulled out the chair for her? Wait, no, it was a curved booth, there was no chair to pull out. Stop doubting yourself. She is a killer, he reminded himself.

Cat opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, then closed it again. Was she feeling awkward? He wasn't sure what to start with. He needed to lull her into letting her guard down, at least for a while.

She broke the silence first. "First time doing this, huh?" Her eyes met his and they both looked away. She shrugged. "Yeah, I still get nervous too. Really, it wasn't until an hour ago when I was like, wait, we've been trading emails back and forth, but I still have no idea what this guy looks like…"

"Hence the rose," Spencer offered.

"I know, and then I was like, wait, he's going to bring a red rose, so maybe we should go to a nicer place, which is why I switched the restaurant last minute…" It was disarming, how uncomfortable her eyes looked. Did she know what was going on, or was he really just that bad of a conversationalist? "…and now I need to change, and put something nice on, for this place. I was totally underdressed, and my whole wardrobe makes me look like a Kardashian." From her tone, he knew Cat was insulting herself, but he had no idea what it meant. Was it a pop culture reference?

"A what?"

"You don't know what that is, do you?" She frowned slightly, as if recognizing her comment had fallen flat.

His brain clicked. "Oh, no, Robert Kardashian. He got OJ Simpson off. You don't look like him at all."

"Yeah, no, I was making a joke. About me." Self-deprecating humor, he realized. Not a normal trait for a hitman, who would be overflowing with confidence in their skills.

"No, it was good," Spencer smiled at her.

"No, it really wasn't," Cat grimaced and forced out a false laugh. Another silence between them, and then her eyes lit up. "Can we start over? Hi, I'm Cat."

Spencer froze for a second. She was acting so nice, so normal. "Hi, I'm Spencer."

Her eyes softened and she smiled. "It really is nice to meet you. In person. Really." She shrugged. Protecting herself emotionally, keeping herself from me. "Tell me a little about yourself. Do you really have 3 PhDs?"

"Yes. I do. Have 3 PhDs, I mean."

"What was your favorite book you read last year?"

"Honestly, I've never read a book I didn't like."

Direct eye contact. "Tell me about your wife." Ah. She had used the questions to throw him off, to make him feel a little more safe. Spencer had to admit to himself, Cat was good. She smiled and gave another small shrug, as if telling him, you are the one who brought me here.

He froze for a second. He had a story prepared, but from the brief minutes he had interacted with Cat, he knew she would try to throw him off balance with more emotional questions. "You want to talk about that here?"

"Might as well get it out in the open. It's why we're here." For a second, her eyes were soft but piercing. She coughed, and the softness left her eyes. "How long have you been married?"

"Four years." He had been prepared for that one at least.

She nodded. Her smile was smaller now, like she was actively trying to keep it in her face. "When is she due to give birth?"

Spencer looked down and looked back up. Keep your expression earnest. He had never been an incredible actor. "Um, in couple of months." Maybe this would work though, maybe he could get her back on track for an easy confession and arrest. He learned across the table, lowering his voice. "Should we discuss price now, or…?"

She mirrored him, leaning close enough he could smell her perfume. He knew the scent but couldn't place it. "Slow down tiger, what exactly are we negotiating here?" Her eyes had lost all softness. She was looking at him like a cat would look at a mouse, scheming and dangerous.

"You know."

She shook her head with a sly grin. "I want to hear you say it."

Spencer licked his lips. He needed to sell this. "To have her killed."

She paused and then leaned back in her chair. Her eyes sparkled with delight. He was reminded of how a child might act when being given a gift. This woman loved what she did, which made her extremely dangerous. "Let me see your ring." Her voice sounded slightly different now, more demanding and in control.

Spencer glanced down, confirming that yes, the ring he had checked about 100 times was still on his finger. He set his hand on the table to show her. She lightly touched his hand, running her thumb across his knuckles, pausing on the ring. She scoffed, and Spencer looked up at her. Her expression was no longer guarded. She believed him. "You know what that is?" Her fingers played with the ring, twisting it around his finger gently. "A noose. Only it doesn't kill you all at once. It kills you slowly, day by day." She paused and looked at him. For the slightest second, Spencer thought her face looked heartbroken, but the expression disappeared before he realized it was there. "Ever feel that way?"

He was surprised by how true his response felt. "I feel that all the time."

She lifted her hand away from his. A small, excited smile. "Take it off."

"Why?"

"As a sign of your commitment." She had her elbow on the table and was resting her chin on her hand. "To me." There was that shrug again. If he didn't know who she was, he would say this action was showing slight insecurity. She was quite the actress.

She smiled confidently and held out her hand expectantly. Spencer slipped it off and put it onto her outstretched palm. She glanced down at it, as if looking for all the misery it had caused.

-We have you over her left shoulder. Do you copy?- It was the first comment he had heard from the team since she had walked in, and he was relieved. She would try to take him out of the bar to kill him, and they would apprehend her right outside. Then they would just need the Bomber.

He glanced up at the camera for the briefest second to confirm he heard, then looked back at Cat. She was looking at him expectantly. "24 Karat?" He nodded. She let out a sigh that sounded almost… disappointed? "24k times, what, 4 years? Means this ring should be dinged and nicked, and yet," she unzipped her purse and put the ring inside, "this sucker is brand new." Her face was blank. "You aren't married."

Two very distinct clicks.

Spencer would know that noise anywhere. His whole team would. She has just cocked a gun under the table. The façade was over. Her eyes were dark. "Why are we here, Spencer?"

"We are here," he kept his voice calm and quiet, putting in as much sincerity as he could muster, "because you are because you are a member of the four hitmen who operate in the shadows of the internet. You are known as Miss .45. My team and I have been hunting you for months. I knew if we boxed you in here, we could arrest you with as little resistance as possible."

"Your team being the behavioral analysis unit at the FBI?"

He confirmed with a nod. He wasn't surprised she knew, even if his team would be. She seemed smart. She would have Googled his name before coming in. He was curious, though, why she would come, knowing they would be here.

"I have to admit, you guys are good." Her body relaxed and she leaned back, like she was relived the pretense of their conversation could end. "You are the only ones who got close to us."

She paused and cocked her head, like she was examining him. "But we got kind of close to you too, didn't we?" She leaned across the table with a playful smile. "Hi Penelope." So she knew he was mic'ed, and she knew who on his team would be the most likely people to listen. That meant she also knew agents would be in the restaurant. Did she know what they looked like?

She sat back in her chair, a smug look on her face. She wasn't afraid at all of being caught. Why?

"Do you know why I am so good at my job?" Her tone was rhetorical. She knew what he would say.

"You kill without emotion or remorse."

She rolled her eyes as if he had said something ridiculous. "That only gets a girl so far in life. No. It's because I think through every potential outcome and I plan accordingly."

Spencer realized what she meant the second before she said it. He could tell from her face she knew that he knew, but she said it out loud anyways with a smile. "Yeah, I didn't walk into your trap. You walked into mine." Was it so Penelope would hear?

Spencer was instantly replaying every possible outcome they had planned for if she had already known who he was. They hadn't planned many, because unlike him, the rest of the team had been confident that if she knew, she wouldn't agree to meet with Spencer. Their group was too cautious for that. Still, he had pushed for a few different scenarios. Hitmen were incredibly confident and competent people. He knew which direction he wanted to take this conversation. Hopefully Hodge would realize which plan he was going for.

"Where's your head, Spencer?" She knew what he was doing. She moved towards him, scooting around the booth until she was next to him. Had she seen him look at the cameras? Did she want Penelope to see her face? But no, her face showed real curiosity. "What are you thinking about?" Her voice was coy.

"Just thinking about entropy." She nodded and ran her hand down his chest. To anyone else in the bar, it would look like their date was going very, very well. She slipped her hand into his coat jacket. Keep her talking. "It's the thermaldynamtic measure of degradation of matter and engery in the universe. To put it another way…" She pulled his gun from his suit pocket and smiled at him. "There's your gun."

"Good evening." Cat and Spencer both looked up to see the waiter standing there. He was about to ask if they were ready to order when Cat spoke over him.

"You know…" she touched Spencer's chest again. He realized that Cat knew this would bother him from his refusal of the hug. She was sharper that he gave her credit for. He looked at her as she smiled up at the waiter, "We are just having such a good time getting to know each other, we will let you know when we are ready, okay?" Her tone left no room for argument. The waiter nodded politely and left. "Thank you. And now that we've gotten that out the way, will you do me a favor and tell Blondie McBlonderson over at the bar to disappear." Spencer glanced up at JJ, who had been watching them, stirring a gin and tonic. She gave up looking casual at that point. -Stand down, JJ- Hodge's voice said warily. She put down her drink and scowled at Cat.

Cat shifted away from Spencer to return to her side of the table. As JJ passed by, Cat called after her. "Thanks for playing, sweetie." She grinned at Spencer.

-Reid, do not let her get up from the table- Hodge barked.

Spencer kept his face blank. "Okay. You're in charge. Tell me what you want and I'll see if I can get it here for you."

Cat lowered her voice. "Anything I want?"

"Anything you want."

"Like a million dollars in unmarked bills and maybe a plane to Aruba?" Her face didn't shift at all.

That isn't what she wants. "Is that what you want?"

"And you'll say you'll bring it here, but the real plan is to distract me from what is, I'm sure, an impressive law enforcement response just outside that door, is that the plan?" She looked almost bored now.

"That's the plan," Spencer gave her. It wasn't worth lying yet, not when he still had a chance to make her trust him.

She cocked her head and looked curiously at him before speaking quickly. "Okay. Let's talk. But let's talk about something interesting at least… Tell me about me." Her eyes met his.

"You?" Spencer needed to steer this conversation carefully. She rolled back her shoulders to show she was listening to his quiet words. "You are a black widow hit woman, you specialize in seduction, and you're patient. You learn everything about the men you are hired to kill, physically, physiologically, and emotionally because you want them in the most compromised position as possible when you pull the trigger."

"And when I do it really well, they pull the trigger themselves." She added quickly. Why was she giving him information? He raised his eyebrows at her in an invitation to continue.

She paused. "Give me your phone."

"Why?"

"Because I know what I want now. I want to play a game with you." Her voice was coy but her face was dead serious. "You like games?" Was her tone mocking him?

Spencer tried to keep the confusion off his face. Keep her talking, get a confession. That was turning into tonight's mantra. "I do."

"Do you win?"

His eyes narrowed at her, and he lowered his voice. "I always win."

An unexpected expression (joy, perhaps?) flit across her face, before it settled back into the coy, mocking mask she had been keeping all night. "Give it to me."

Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled it out, handing it to her. What was she doing?

"Okay. Here is my game. You have 30 minutes," she set down his phone to show him the timer, "to answer every question I ask. And if you lie, I'll know." Her voice turned sharp. She was daring him. "Because I've spent the past ten years of my life studying men and their lies before I kill them. Do you believe me?"

Interesting. He could play this out to his advantage. "I do."

She smiled and nodded. "That was true. You're getting this. Now," she stared into Spencer's eyes, not blinking, "here is how we know who wins. If you win, you drag me out of here in handcuffs. If I win, you will escort me out, like a gentleman, to make sure I exit safely." She studied his face. "What do you think Spencer? Think you can win this one?"

Spencer motioned for her to lean in towards him so he could whisper into her ear. His tone was colder now. "Considering everything you've put Garcia and so many people through, you are going to have to shoot me in the face before you walk out of here."

She smirked and leaned back. "Game on."