Ask (Or cheerily threaten death through creative means, thank you Prof, I will never tire of that.) and ye shall receive. I seem to be somewhat on a roll. Let's hope it continues. And GothChiq, I'm glad you like their interactions. The familiarity between them is something I'm trying to highlight. MonCheri, I will try to make the chapters longer and move past the endless conversations, but when I do hit inspiration I try and make sure I get it up and out quickly before it rots inside my brain, and I find that conversations are an easy way to convey things. Right now a lot of the story is conversation, but when something does happen I hope it'll be radical enough to make up for the wait. Thank you for your constructive contribution. And Katt-chan, fantastic Katt-chan, yes, it seems like forever since I first incubated this little chicken egg of an idea underneath a toad, but now it's hatched into a basilisk and is growing (Hopefully) fast and if I'm lucky there will be no meddling kids around to slay it. I have plans for that picture, so worry not dear readers as you will eventually figure out what I'm talking about, but it might take a bit. However it will be up sooner than originally planned as I've decided that the plot structure will not be completely linear. Instead, some chapters will be flashbacks to Jack and Spencer's 'golden days', as they were, and I'll show a few scenes of slightly-altered canon. (Altered to include Jack-related material, of course. Feel free to mentally insert any time you watch the episodes.) Although I can't have the story's plot made completely non-confusing. Just try to fit together the puzzle pieces and think laterally. Well, I'll stop rambling now and let you all move on to yet another chapter of Punch!

Morgan pulled him into the interrogation viewing room. "What the hell was that, kid?"

Hotch was borderline-glaring at him. The Gotham cops in the room were staring outright in anger, bewilderment, distrust, and possibly fear. "Reid. Explanation. Now."

Spencer sighed and ran his hand through his hair in weary nervousness. "Right. Well, I did promise an explanation. I said it was complicated, didn't I?"

A Gotham cop glared at him as though Spencer had killed six of his friends. "Nothing all that complicated about it, is there?" He spat venomously, "Obviously, you're in league with that-that insane, homicidal, monster!"

Spencer Reid exploded.

"That monster, as you call him, was one of the best friends I ever had! He saved my life at least a half a dozen times, at insane risk and cost to himself! He was brilliant, and – and courageous, and kind, and loyal to a fault," He shouted, "And he made a point out of protecting the weak and making the best he could out of the horrific hands life dealt him, and if he's a monster now than it is because spiteful people like you have made him that way!" He finished, almost panting for breath, and glared around the room, waiting for someone to try and contradict him.

The officer spoke again, "Look, whatever he was before, you've seen what he is now. Everyone's seen the destruction he's caused. He killed six of my friends. People change."

Spencer took a seat at a table covered in papers on 'The Joker Case', as they were calling it. He scanned the papers on top briefly as thoughts churned in his mind. "People do change, sometimes." He said, "And I'm sorry about your friends." He looked up, "But I can still see my friend in there," He motioned vaguely to the interrogation room, "Behind the war paint."

"War paint?" Hotch questioned. The team had begun to gather around the table, and a few men had filed out of the room. The majority of the situation was over, and now the BAU team was setting up to do their job.

Spencer shrugged. "That's what he sees it as. He's waging war. On order, on the Plan." He looked up, "In his own way, he's fighting corruption."

Hotch sat down. "Reid, you're involved in this. That can be an asset, as you obviously know him and how he works better than anyone, but I can't risk you compromising this case, this team. If you're going to become too involved I will take you off the case and out of the field. Understand?" He was firm and no-nonsense.

"Yes." Spencer sighed.

"Good," Said Hotch, "Now. Since you've made it clear you know him, you can provide a history for us. Starting with a name."

Morgan nodded at him. "Talk to us kid. Tell us how you know him."

Spencer was resigned. He knew his coworkers – No, friends, he reminded himself – would find out eventually about Jack. After all, he thought, Jack had a way of weaving himself into every story. "His name is Jack Napier," He heard himself saying, "And we met in the fall of 1991. I was a few months short of ten, and had just entered high school…"