The Collection

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. I just like to borrow things that aren't mine. The characters of Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid belong to the creators of Criminal Minds. Any other characters that I borrow I will fess up to when the time comes. Some of them I may just be borrowing the general idea of the character and not the specific character itself. I'll have to see where I go with that.

I hope you enjoy what's been running around my head for the last three weeks. If you do or don't, PLEASE let me know by reviewing. Thanks!

Susanne

A/N: This is a Beta free zone so please be gentle. I try but I still miss things.

A/N: This is my first attempt at a Criminal Minds fan fiction so please be doublely kind or at least forgiving. Understanding comes to mind too. Yes, I'm a little on the nervous side.

CHAPTER ONE

He was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Too bad he was probably fifteen years younger than her. Mentally, Rachel shrugged her shoulders. In the grand scheme of things, that really didn't matter much. It wasn't like she was going to do anything but look, right? Right?

As Rachel tried to not watch the young man sitting on the bench in front of her, she noticed that he seemed to be in some form of distress. Or at least she assumed that's what was going on. It wasn't like Rachel was particularly good looking. Well, she wasn't hideous either but the extra weight she carried around seemed to help her to blend into the back ground. Someone as young and attractive as this young man would have absolutely no desire to spend any time looking at her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw that the kid was talking to the young girl sitting beside him. She didn't appear to be too thrilled but she stood up, slid by him and made her way down the wooden steps.

Rachel tried to turn her attention back to the country music concert that she'd come to watch. It was a weekend long jamboree. This was the third and final night. Rachel had come here simply with the intention of listening to some really good music by some of her favourite singers. Unfortunately, the young man kept dragging her eyes away from the stage.

The girl was back. Unable to pull her eyes away from the drama in front of her, Rachel watched as she handed the young man a cold bottle of water. He cracked it open and then held it up to his eye. It was the strangest thing Rachel could remember ever seeing anyone do. It didn't become any clearer as he squeezed the bottle to force the water against his skin.

No longer paying any attention to the stage, Rachel finally caught snippets of the conversation going on between the two young people. He was allergic to his straw cowboy hat he'd bought for the occasion and was trying to rinse the allergen out of his eyes where it currently resided and stung like a son of a bitch. Interesting.

There thought that something so very small could make someone who was obviously strong and trim so weak played through Rachel's mind. It would probably be the only way she'd ever be able to touch such young, smooth flesh. Rachel gave herself a physical shake. That was wrong. She knew it was wrong to pursue such vile thoughts. She'd been raised better than that. Her parents and family would be appalled. But she was so damned lonely!

It had been years since anyone but family had touched her. While that was generally okay with her, Rachel had to admit that late at night the urge to be touched out of lust played through her. It had been so long.

As Rachel half watched, the boy's girl friend got frustrated with him, stood up and left. As Rachel watched her thump down the stairs of the grand stand, the boy glanced over his shoulder again. She wasn't sure if it was to dislodge the straw residue that he gotten into his eyes or if he was actually looking at her. Finally, she decided he was actually looking at her. His blue eyes were blood shot and she had the feeling he couldn't really see very well.

"Are you all right?" Rachel asked. It was the polite thing to do after all. She tried to not notice his close cropped brown hair and his incredible body. He was young enough to be her son. Stop it!!

"Ah, I could use a little help," the young man admitted. "I think I need to get to the doctor. My allergies haven't been this bad in years."

"Well, there aren't any doctors out here but I could take you to the ambulance and the EMT's manning the First Aid station," Rachel suggested. She'd come to the jamboree alone. She did most things alone or with her family. Her mother was concerned that she enjoyed her own company a little too much. Well, maybe she was right.

"That would be great. I'd really appreciate at it," the boy stated. "I can't see very well at the moment."

"Sure, no problem," Rachel said as she climbed to her feet. She stepped down to the boy's level and began to lead him out of the bleachers. She was perversely happy about the fact that the boy appeared to be alone. She wasn't really going to do this, was she?

OOOOO

Aaron Hotchner was having a very bad day. He was grateful that no cases had come up because with everything else that was going wrong he half figured the plane would crash.

Just as he was getting ready to leave his office to escape the day from hell at six thirty at night, Aaron's phone rang. Cursing quietly under his breath, the Behavioural Analysis Unit Chief considered not answering it. He glanced out into the bull pen and saw that only Spencer Reid was still there. Finally, after the fifth ring, he picked it up. "Aaron Hotchner."

"Oh, I'm so glad I caught you! Aaron, this is Cathy dePape. My son goes to daycare with Jack," a frantic sounding woman said on the other end. Hotch wasn't even sure she'd stopped to breathe.

It took a moment for the Unit Chief to place a face to the name. It was one of the perks of his job. He rarely forgot a name or a face. Her son, Mason, had been born shortly after she'd turned forty three. "Yes, Cathy. I remember you. How can I be of assistance?" Aaron asked. All he really wanted to do on a Friday night was head home and enjoy a nice glass of hard liquor. Any kind of hard liquor would do at the moment.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you but I'm really scared and the local police aren't doing anything," Cathy said. "My eldest son, Matt, didn't come home from a country music jamboree over in the next county last weekend. I've filed a missing person's report but the police haven't come up with any leads. I'm frantic. Matt has never disappeared before."

"I'm sorry, Cathy. I can't go to an investigation in an official capacity unless the local law enforcement has asked for my help. There's nothing I can do," Aaron said. He was only half disappointed. A young man disappearing after one of those weekends wasn't really all that surprising. Chances were he'd found a companion to help keep him warm during the weekend and wasn't quite ready to leave her behind. It seemed to happen more and more of late.

"I know. I know. I was just hoping that maybe you would be able to take a look at what they have. I've all ready talked to Matt's girl friend. They had a fight up in the bleachers the last night of the festival. That was the last time she saw him. He was having an allergy attack but she was mad at him and she just left him." Even over the phone, Aaron could hear that the woman was practically hyperventilating. He felt sorry for her. Not a good thing.

Sighing, Aaron glanced out his door again and saw that Reid was still there. If the two of them turned their considerable talents to this case, they may be able to find that boy by morning. "All right, Cathy. I'll see what I can do. Please call the officers involved and see if they can send me what information they have. I'll head out right away."

After a few pleasantries, Aaron stood up from behind his desk and headed out to the bull pen. Reid was just finishing up whatever paperwork he'd been working on and was standing up as well.

"Spencer. What are your plans for the weekend?" Aaron asked, trying to be casual. Despite his best efforts, the young genius still intimidated him. All the members of the Behavioural Analysis Unit or BAU were experts in some area. Spencer just happened to cover several of them himself.

"Um. Nothing really, why?" the young genius asked as he picked up his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"I was wondering if you could help me track down an acquaintance's son," Aaron said. It was a lot to ask. All the members of the BAU had seen truly awful things, beyond most people's ability to comprehend. He hated to ask the younger man to spend some of his rare free time looking at yet another case but he could really use his help.

"Of course," Spencer said, a slow smile gracing his thin face. He looked up to Aaron like a father. He was always willing to do anything the man asked. Besides, he really didn't have anything better to do than to catch up on some of the journals that were gathering dust on his shelves. "When do we leave?"