Hey Everyone!

I'm new to the Criminal Minds fanfic world, but to those who have been reading my other fanfictions, hello again! I've had this fic bunny running around in my head and twenty thousand words later, here we are. I'm very excited for you all to enjoy my original character, as well as enjoy my spin on dealing with serial killers (I usually stick with lawyers so this shall be interesting). Trust me, this story is just heating up and I want to get it all out as soon as possible, so have some faith!

To all those wondering about my Suits fic "The Portrait of Gamophobia"; I have the next chapter! It's in editing!

I hope you all enjoy this first chapter!

P.S. I don't own Criminal Minds.

One, two, three.

She knew one thing.

One, two, three.

Well, she knew a lot more than one thing.

One, two, three.

Caroline could talk her ear off.

Her phone was glued to the side of her head as she enjoyed the cold, sunny morning. Bundled up tight, the bright orange leaves crunched underneath her Chucks as she walked to her first class. The University of Richmond was kind to her, being this her fifth year at the school. She loved the atmosphere, and considering her age, everyone was nice to her. Although she did get the occasional tease, as well as the whisper of astonishment as she walked into class.

Still listening to Caroline talk of her apparent romantic encounter with a 'brand new stud-muffin', her leather backpack was low against her as she twirled a piece of her hair. She was remembering how the bubbly redhead on the phone almost died from shock the day she died her tips hot pink. Now faded to a soft pink, she trudged on, watching students who were either studying, or relaxing and taking a break. She was re-reading Pride and Prejudice (…I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent...) while listening to Caroline ("…there were petals everywhere, and Lou, I swear to every God out there, he was wearing nothing but whipped cream and a banana peel..."), watching people, twirling her hair (one twirl, two twirls, three twirls) and reminding herself she only had two minutes to get to class, and she was five minutes away.

At least it wasn't her fault.

"Thanks for the ditching me at breakfast again, by the way."

She heard an exasperated sigh from the other line.

"Well, as I was explaining to you why I didn't show up-"

"Yes, your boyfriend is an exhibitionist. A poor excuse for missing breakfast with your best friend."

She waited for the apology.

"Look, I'm sorry, Lou." She could tell Caroline meant it. "You know how I get easily distracted by things that are… male."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I am aware. And sorry for that passive aggressiveness. That was me being rude."

"Shit. You're admitting when you're wrong?"

"Don't even say it."

She could hear the smile in her voice. "What? The fact that you're breaking routine? How odd for someone like you."

"I get it. Thank you for your input."

"Oh for Christ's sake, you are the blandest person in the world. You do realize you spent your birthday at a conference."

"It was a presentation on the physical and mental impact children have from the hidden curriculum theory. It was informative and educational."

"It was a nerdy, sociology conference, and you loved every second of it."

"…I admit to nothing."

"Lou, I am taking you out to drinks soon. No self-respecting woman turns thirty without being shitfaced drunk-"

"Professor Richardson!"

Hot pink Chucks stopped in their tracks.

Oh no.

"Caroline, I've got to go."

Without hearing her best friend's goodbye, which was routine for her, Professor Elena Lucille "Lou" Richardson turned to face one of her students rushing towards her. Grey varsity football sweater, blond, sits in the third back row, listens sometimes. Lou watched as the large freshman almost pummelled into her frame. He had been nervous, his hands glistening as he tried to steady his breaths. He took his backpack off of his shoulders, and to her it could have meant one of two things. One, he needed help on the assignment due in a month, or two, he was giving his assignment due later that day in order to avoid class. She wasn't a rocket scientist, but Lou was a professor at the age of twenty five. So, maybe, she was a little smart.

"Yes?" She asked, trying to sound curious.

"Could I give you my assignment right now? I have a huge midterm right after your lecture and I haven't studied that well…"

She listened to him lie as she remembered four lectures ago, where his buddy had invited him for a beer after the hour, to which she read his lips as he responded, "sure, I'm done for the day after she shuts up about fucking Slaughterhouse 5". Lou wanted to be mean and say no. She wanted to tell him that he wasn't getting special treatment. Her student would never excel in her course if he kept avoiding responsibilities.

But that wasn't her.

"I'll take it." Lou watched the happiness light up on his face as he dug into his backpack, pulling out the assignment. Clean, proper format, creative title… and one of the harder topics. So he was lying about something, but possibly telling a half-truth about the midterm. Maybe he wasn't such an irresponsible kid.

"But next time you try to pull this off, I'll give you back a zero. You are not above anyone else in the course. Do you understand?"

The student nodded, looking sincere. "Yeah, Professor. I understand."

Lou walked away from the student before she could continue disciplining him further. Now she was officially five minutes late, with another four minutes on top. She picked up her pace, moving from a speedy walk to a brisk jog as she swiftly avoided causalities of her attempt at running. That bought her another minute as she entered the building, slowing down in the empty hallway to catch her breath. Turning the corner with the lecture hall in sight, she also spotted her colleague Jeffrey Hill with a smirk on his face.

"Late again, Elena."

Oh good Lord, find something else to do than be a hall-monitor.

"Yes, well, sometimes life throws unexpected curveballs."

"You understand euphemisms?" Hill asked, poking fun at her youth.

"One, I am an English professor. It's my job to grasp the concept. Two, it's actually a figure of speech using personification and imagery. Maybe you'd like to grasp that concept."

"Curveball is a euphemism."

Lou sighed in frustration, standing outside the lecture hall.

"Euphemism is only used when trying to substitute an unpleasant word or phrase. In this case, it does not fit properly."

Pulling the heavy door open (one turn, two turns, three turns), her slender frame nimbly walked through the threshold, the auditorium was filled with voices of casual conversation. Throwing her books onto the table, she looked to her students. She had fifty-six students in her third year course, and all of them were as passionate about literature as she was. It was her nine am class on Wednesday, and it was her favourite one to teach, as it was her specialty. Once her powerpoint was up, and her books were open, she looked to her students; some had their fingers on their keyboards, others had pens in their hands. Most of them were eagerly ready to learn.

"Sorry for the late start. Lesson number one for today, don't read Pride and Prejudice while listening to your best friend's sexual encounters."

Her class gave a light laugh, the unfiltered jokes were familiar to the students.

"Leading off of Alice in Wonderland, we talked about last class how Carroll creates a fantasy world that counters the world of authority…"

[ + ]

His fingers drummed against his bag.

The Narrative of John Smith.

Spencer read a lot. His mother always read him 15th century literature, with hints of the other centuries every once in a while, but he remembered every single book he read on his own, and he loved it. However, he preferred reading of Quantum Physics, or A Sociological Perspective on Pedophiles in Society, or Dante's Divine Comedy from the original manuscript. He was never fond of most English literature, until he read the Narrative of John Smith. His whole life changed after the book, the book that was sitting in his bag, was given to him.

Reid's fingers continued to drum against his bag, the 'thunk' vibrating off the book and leather echoed in the elevator.

He was having one of his bad days.

He dreamt of the phone call. When she told him she loved him. He remembered the texture of the plastic receiver, and the cold, metal wire connecting it to the payphone. He heard the anxiety in her voice. How scared she was. But mostly, Reid remembered the soft, rushing sound of her breaths, and her sweet voice uttering two words that caused his heart to paralyze for what he thought was for an hour.

"Love you."

The doors slid open.

Clutching his bag, Reid walked towards the glass doors, pushing them open as he willed his fingers to stop the constant tapping. The bullpen was empty, save for Hotch in his office, frantically doing paperwork. He eventually noticed JJ's blond ponytail bouncing around by the coffee pot as Spencer walked towards his desk, shrugging his bag off, dropping it on the ground without a care. Sighing in his hands, his cool palm was comforting against his face, elbows digging into the table. If he wanted to hide his mood, he was doing a poor job at it.

Working with profilers could be torture sometimes.

"Rough morning, Spence?"

Jennifer's caring voice always put Spencer at ease. Even when he developed a crush for her, he'd always known she would look out of him. He shrugged his shoulders, not really in the mood to talk.

"It's been one of those days," was all Reid had to say.

Like a switch flicking on in her head, JJ understood perfectly what Reid was talking about. He had missed Maeve, and understandably so. Today was a day that Spencer was having trouble getting through each hour, even though it had just began. She leaned against his desk as he sat in his chair, grasping onto his shoulder. She looked at Spence, watching the corner of his mouth lift up slightly, which was all JJ needed.

"You know I'm always here to talk."

Reid nodded, "I know, JJ. Thank you."

"Thank merciful heavens." A mass of pink and purple came parading through as Garcia clutched her iPad, making her way towards Reid and JJ. "I always can count on Wonder Boy being here early."

"What's going on, Garcia?" JJ asked the tech.

"Can't tell you, yet. Waiting for the whole team. But not to worry, Rossi, Callahan, and Chocolate Thunder are heading over here so you can head over there. I'll be briefing you in less than a mo'."

"I left my go bag in my locker." Spencer said to the two ladies as he stood up.

"Not to worry, mon cher." Garcia smiled at the two. "This time, it's local."

JJ looked at Garcia, astonished. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. You guys are headed to one of the police divisions. Give Hotch a minute to finish up the paperwork with the state police. This time it's a priority."

"Who's the victim?" Reid asked from his seat.

"Victims, unfortunately. Body count now up to three. The last body was found at the University of Richmond less than ten minutes ago."

[ + ]

"How would you characterize Alice? Leah?"

"Her mannerisms show she's polite," one of her most enthusiastic students added in.

"Good, and how would you use an example of this?"

Lou pointed to a gentlemen in the middle.

"She uses proper forms of address when talking to authoritative figures."

"Do you think it's satirical? What Carroll writes?" Lou prompted her student.

He continued, "I think it is intentional, but it's based on your interpretation."

The professor's eyes lit up. "Explain yours."

"Alice rebels against authority. She's naturally curious, and authoritative figures get in the way of Alice's interests, which is why she's mocking in her address to her charges."

Lou couldn't keep the smile off of her face. "Interesting interpretation."

Before she could continue with her lecture, the doors to the auditorium opened, revealing the head of the English department, Liam McKennis. Confused, Liam's concerned face was all Lou could read before he approached her, leaning to whisper into her ear.

"Keep your face neutral. Jeffrey Hill was found dead on campus."

Lou had tried, but she could feel her face growing pale.

"When?" she looked to her colleague.

"They found him half an hour ago, just outside this building. I'm letting all the professors know to keep all their students in the classroom-"

"To keep them safe, I understand."

William McKennis really liked Elena Richardson. While she was significantly younger than his fellow colleagues, she still was ten times more professional than half of the professors on campus (she was also smarter than all of them, but he'd never admit that out loud). She was dedicated to the job, never took a sick day, and was the only professor that had students who produced a 1.76% plagiarism rate. Was it the knowledge that Professor Richardson had read hundreds of thousands of essays on each topic she taught to prevent plagiarism? Most likely, since no one messed with her and her eidetic brain.

Liam nodded to her, walking out of the room. Lou turned to find her students curious, but alert. They had known something was wrong. She made a decision (one that she shouldn't have made, but decided to anyways), closing the small novel to give her focus to her students.

"You aren't children. So I'm not going to treat you like you are."

The classmates looked to one another.

"Professor Hill has passed away."

Some of the classmates didn't react, some were in shock.

But there was one student who unravelled everything.

"Professor, I saw Hill this morning. Barely an hour ago. How could he be dead?"

Lou rubbed her hands together. One of her nervous ticks.

"His body was found on campus thirty minutes ago."

"Someone killed him?" A young woman asked in the second row.

"I'm not sure, I don't have any information. All I've been given is to keep you all in this room."

"You could find out something, Professor." Leah had offered.

The man who answered Lou's questions earlier chided in as well, "Did they say you had to be in the room?"

"Not specifically…" Lou didn't like where the tone of his voice was leading to.

"So you'd be able to figure something out." The man had said.

Another student added in. "The police have to know something."

"We won't leave the room," Leah promised.

Lou thought of how easily she could be manipulated as she walked out of her classroom (with next week's tests in her hand… she didn't trust anyone with these), trying to hunt down a police officer. Not thinking of her safety, she should have thought about who would dare try to kill Jeffrey, let alone kill him on campus, in front of people, in the middle of the day. She should have pitied the poor man for being murdered.

Lou could only think of was why it took someone so long to try.

[ + ]

"Jeffrey Hill, a professor at the university was found behind a building on campus with one slight difference in appearance: he had his eyeballs scratched out."

"Same as the other victims," Morgan stated.

"Do we know with what?" Rossi asked Garcia, as Morgan was driving with Reid in the back. JJ was riding with Hotch and Callahan, and Reid had to bite his tongue when he was going to ask to ride with JJ. Her reaching out to him made him want to cling to her as a security blanket, but Spencer knew he couldn't do that. He must fight his own battles, especially the ones he had to go through. Reid shut his mind out of his personal issues as he listened to the phone in Rossi's hand.

"State police have found nothing. No prints, no murder weapon. This was the first victim found in broad daylight," Garcia's voice came through the speaker.

"The unsub's getting bold, isn't he?" Kate chimed in, "Two weeks between the first and second victim, and only a day between the second and third."

"He's escalating quickly, maybe he's not getting the gratification he needs." JJ said to the team.

Morgan added his perspective. "Could be that the most recent victim wouldn't cooperate with his demands. Based on the time they were last seen, and the time of death, the unsub mustn't have had enough time to enjoy their kill. "

"Garcia, do we think it could be someone on campus targeting the victims?" Hotch asked.

"Give me one second my fearless leader, and- hello, looks like this sicko is choosing the university as a twisted playground. Martin Combs had graduated two years ago while Rory Washmund used to be a teaching assistant for philosophy until losing his job a year prior."

"Not a coincidence," Reid mumbled to himself.

Morgan looked at him through the rear view mirror.

"You say something, kid?"

Reid cleared his throat, "Garcia, look for other connections with the victims. The first two victims haven't been on campus for more than a year. There has to be something that overlaps, and it's not the university."

"Done and done, I will get back to you after my babies work overtime. Penny out."

"Victimology is completely scattered. Three males, all different ages and races. Even different occupations. What does the unsub find important about all these men?"

As Rossi strategized with the team, Morgan looked over to the youngest member. He could tell Reid wasn't fully listening, absent in his own world. He couldn't blame the kid; Spencer's mind was so big, he was bound to be lost every once in a while. Pulling into the school near the crime scene, Morgan snuck a text to Hotch, asking to be paired with Reid today. Maybe Morgan could get through to him. Parking in the spot as Rossi hung up the phone, Morgan got a text back from Hotch.

'If that's what you prefer.'

Rossi, Reid, JJ, Morgan, Hotch and Callahan all met at the sidewalk, listening to Hotch's instructions.

"JJ, you head to the morgue, see if anything on the other two victims can lead to a motive. Rossi, you and I will head over to see the latest victim to assess the scene. Morgan, I want you and Reid to speak with anyone that might have come in contact with the victim around his time of death. Callahan, I want you to speak with the victim's wife; learn everything you can about his relationships with the people who matter most to him. We need to figure this out quickly before the press gets a hold of this. The Bureau wants this done as soon as possible. Let's get to work."

Morgan and Reid broke from the group as they made their way towards the office of the head of the History department. Reid remembered everything Garcia had given him on the ride over. Jeffrey Hill mostly taught a freshman's course on World War I and II, as well as subjects on American Civil War. He was mostly quiet as Morgan spoke with a few students directing him to the right office. A few minutes later, they had arrived to the right building.

"Reid, is there something going on?" Derek finally broke as they walked the empty hallways.

He just shrugged. "Nothing that's concerning."

He eyed the kid, wondering if it was about Maeve, or something else, or a combination of the two.

"You sure?" Morgan asked, which Spencer nodded in response.

"I think Hotch knows I'm off my game," the younger of the two said suddenly.

"And why is that?"

"Usually when a body has some form of mutilation, he brings me to the crime scene to asses it."

Morgan had no idea why he was surprised that Spencer could feel the shift in dynamics, but he wasn't going to comment on it as they approached the office door. Knocking quickly, the door opened soon after.

"Can I help you?" A woman asked.

"Ma'am, I'm Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan of the FBI, this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid. We'd like to ask you a few questions-"

"This is about Jeffrey, isn't it?"

Derek hesitated for a moment.

"Yes, it is."

She nodded, pushing the door open further to allow both men into her office. As they both walked into the warm office, Spencer saw the photo album of the small family. Husband, two sons. The name "Fiona LaFleur" was etched onto the metal plate on her desk as she walked around the large mahogany surface to sit on the other side. Reid sat beside Morgan on the less than comfortable chairs.

"We're truly sorry about Jeffrey, Ma'am."

Fiona bit her lip.

"I'm not one to speak ill of the dead, but with Jeffrey, he won't be missed as much."

Morgan and Reid shared a look with one another.

"To get to the point," Fiona continued, "Jeffrey was an ass, and he liked being an ass to anyone he could talk to. He didn't hurt anyone physically, but he sure loved to harass the shit out of them. Especially Elena."

"Elena…" Morgan drawled out, pulling out his notepad.

"Richardson," LaFleur finished for Morgan, "Professor Elena Richardson. She's in the English department."

Before Morgan could wonder about it, Reid had already said it.

"Why would a History professor go out of his way to harass an English professor? Their paths would most likely not cross."

"The English Building is under construction. The board dispersed and relocated the entire English department to several other buildings. Jeffrey's office was just across the hall from Elena's temporary one."

Both Reid and Morgan received a text from Hotch.

'Coroner says Hill died under an hour ago.'

Reid thought her words over. "Was there any reason for Professor Hill to target Professor Richardson?"

"Considering Jeffrey Hill has almost twenty years of teaching experience, yet Elena has proven to be a much better teacher than he is… yeah, I'd say he felt a little threatend that a woman her age could surpass him."

A woman her age, Reid thought it odd the way Fiona LaFleur had said that sentence.

"Even today, he seemed to be more of a nosy son of a bitch."

"What do you mean by that?" Derek had asked.

"Just before Elena's class, he stopped her in the middle of the hallway, irking her about some trivial English terms. My co-worker told me as I was making photocopies. It sounded like he was waiting for her so he could pick a fight."

"What time was this at?"

"A bit after nine, I believe?"

The two agents looked to each other, realizing a very key point in the case.

"Where's the lecture hall?" Reid asked, standing up from his seat.

"In the next building over. Room ten-eighty."

The building where the body was found outside of.

"Excuse me," Spencer said, shutting the door behind him, intent on finding this Elena.

Because Professor Elena Richardson was the last person to see the victim alive.

[ + ]

"Why do I do this to myself?"

Lou had begun to feel the irrational fear that someone had been watching her. She felt this when she was alone in hallways, stairwells, and dead street corners. Thinking rationally about her situation, she made her way back to the lecture hall. She had found two police officers, and none of them were willing to give up any information regarding the incident that happened, quickly telling her "no students allowed outside of classrooms" (Lou had wanted to say something but thought better of it). Sourly, she made her way back to her classroom, bitter at the fact she was kept out of the loop. Quickly clutching the test in front of her, Lou scanned the room from side to side, making sure there was no one out to get her.

"Why do I always listen to them? I always fall for this-"

But Lou should have looked straight ahead first.

The papers fell from her grasp as she let go in order to put her hands out defensively. The person she had almost run into held onto her as she ran straight into the chest of an unknown human being. The said unknown human being grabbed onto the top of her arms, making sure she hadn't fallen over.

Lou finally registered that she had run into someone, meeting their gaze.

He was very tall, with a mess of light brown hair piled at the top of his head, just reaching the tops of his ear. Cleaned up nicely, she noticed, with his crisp dress shirt, and tie. Kind eyes, and Lou could tell he had a great smile. She couldn't help but be drawn to his strong chin (why would I like his chin? And… oh, that is kind of a nice jaw line).He had a soft look to him, something that resembled a more subordinate masculinity than hegemonic. Oh, for crying out loud, I'm using sociological terms to describe people now?

"I'm so sorry," she rushed out, leaning down to pick up the tests she had dropped.

"No, I'm sorry." The foreign man bent down to help her pick up the papers she had let go of.

"I usually am aware of exactly where I'm headed," the gentleman pointed out.

"Oh, well so am I. Looks like we've both got our heads in the clouds."

The man had looked confused for a moment, giving her the rest of the papers.

"Daydreaming." Lou knew the 'I-don't-understand-that-reference' look, no matter what face it was on. "I was referring to daydreaming."

The man seemed to have grasped that concept, but brushed it away.

"I'm looking for Professor Elena Richardson. Would you happen to know where she is?"

Changing the topic unexpectedly. Could be Asperger's. Could be he's doing his job.

"Uh, right here." Lou stuck out her thumb, pointing to herself.

The surprise on his face was different from any other times she'd seen the look. It was more of a surprise from disbelief, rather than the shock she was used to seeing. The man in front of her didn't look at her as if he couldn't believe she was smart, but rather she felt he looked at her as if there was some familiarity among finding out who she is.

He has to be my age, at least.

Digging into his pockets, he pulled out what she noticed was a leather object. She soon saw the badge, and the 'FBI' logo standing out behind his credentials.

"My name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with the FBI and the Behavioural Analysis Unit-"

"The BAU?" Lou asked, stunned. "You guys are really big with the sociology Profs. Me as well, of course…"

Before Spencer could respond, a look of clarity crossed over Lou's face.

"You deal with serial killers. That must mean… Jeffrey was a victim of a serial attack."

Spencer avoided her conclusion, asking his own questions.

"Are you aware that you were the last known person to speak to him?"

Lou kept her jaw from dropping. "Well, I am now."

"Was there anything different about this time that he approached you?"

She crossed her arms, "No. He was his typical… charming self. You probably know by now he and I didn't get along very well. But today, there was nothing out of the ordinary."

"And you didn't see anything?"

She shook her head, "I saw Jeffrey's black button-up that wasn't buttoned properly. His shoes had more dirt on the left than on the right. His hair hadn't been washed in two days and he had forgotten to brush his teeth this morning. But either than that, I'm sorry Doctor Reid. I didn't notice anything that had stood out."

As she was speaking, Reid received a message from Morgan on his phone.

'The victim had a fight with his wife recently.'

"Could you tell if he had any marital problems?"

Lou shook her head. "No. Although he was unpleasant, his wife was just the same. She came around a lot, and they were harmoniously unpleasant together. Well, now that I think about it, he only had a problem with haircuts."

Before Reid could understand what she meant by that comment, the woman put her hands up.

"I only say this because his wife is beautiful with super long hair. Jeffrey loved it on her. He even called her Rapunzel one time. But I knew she wanted a haircut. Don't look at me like that, I can easily read lips from across a hallway. Did you know, Rapunzel actually originated from a story written by Charlotte-Rose de la Force called Persinette, which had borrowed elements from Basile's story Petrosinella? But that's only one version of the story."

Lou clamped a hand over her mouth before she could continue.

"Sorry, I have a habit of fixating on things."

She saw what she believed to be the first real smile he had put on his face. He was genuinely amused at her. It was an odd reaction to Lou, as she was accustomed to either people looking at her confused, or more so rolling their eyes at her inability to filter her thoughts. But the man in front of her did not look to mock her, or belittle her. He smiled, because he thought her rambling was amusing.

"Look." Lou tried to suppress the connection she had felt with him. It was too comfortable to be normal, especially with her inability to be comfortable around any new person. "I've got a classroom that could possibly not be filled with my students, and I really should get back to them, if they are there-"

"Let me walk you to the room."

Before Lou could refuse, he had begun walking.

"There is a serial killer out there."

She didn't have to be told twice as she walked side-by-side with the interesting Doctor Reid. He looked to be experienced, but knowing that it took years to get into the BAU (Lou had heard of the greatness that was the BAU and did all the research she could on the program when deciding her profession), she knew he must have joined young. Which meant the Doctor fast-tracked. Which meant he was probably as smart as she was.

"What's your IQ?" Lou asked, crossing her arms as the tests sat on her chest.

"One-eighty-seven." He answered with no hesitation. A truth.

Lou almost had her eyes fall out from their sockets.

"Damn it. And I thought my one-seventy-one was impressive."

He allowed himself another smile. "Did you write the alternate test?"

"For fun."

"Isn't the question on exponents hilarious?"

"Are you kidding me? I hate math and I could do exponential functions while translating Rumi and mapping organic chemistry in my sleep."

"How old are you?" Dr. Spencer Reid asked her suddenly.

"Just turned thirty yesterday."

"Happy Birthday."

Lou scrunched her nose up. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Spencer had easily missed her sarcasm, and Lou couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" The doctor asked the professor.

"Just…" Lou was trying to gain her breath back. "If you only knew I spent my birthday listening to people speak of Phrenology and Degeneration linking to children."

"Wait, in sociology? Aren't you an English professor?"

"I have a Master's in sociology. Give me another year, and I'll get my Ph.D."

"What's your thesis?"

"The effects that female deviants encounter when dealing with societal norms."

Spencer lightly snorted with laughter. "That's a broad topic."

"Then you'll just have to read my dissertation." Lou challenged, causing another smile to grace the agent's features.

"How long have you been with the BAU?" The professor asked the man standing beside her.

"Almost ten years." Spencer said to her.

"And you've lost count of how many people you've put away, right?"

Before Reid could respond, he heard her cutting in.

"Nevermind. Your IQ calls for an eidetic memory."

"I'm glad I don't have to tell you that," he said, meaning every word.

"Well you're either eidetic or autodidactic, so-"

"Actually, I'm both."

He heard the screech of her shoes as she came to a stop, and Spencer glanced down at her choice of shoes. Florescent pink Converse shoes. High tops.

"What? Are you Batman too?"

"I don't have the physical capabilities of Bruce Wayne, had Bruce Wayne been a real person and not a fictional character within graphic novels and film."

Lou rolled her eyes, walking past Reid.

"Oh for the love- it's a joke. I understand that there is a fine line when dealing with sarcasm but with your IQ you must pick up on some social cues."

"I suffer from mild autism, so no, I miss social cues."

Lou stopped, realizing that her comment was an unfiltered one. So he did have some form of social awkwardness. Lou could tell because she used to have the tendency to have topics fly over her head, and could never focus on one conversation without performing a social faux pas. That was Lou almost a decade and a half ago, until her mother taught Elena every metaphor, simile, and types of sarcasm that had helped the Professor with her adolescent issues (which she'd always thank her mother for telling her what 'parking the limo' really meant). Even with her mother's guidance, as well as an extensive study in societal norms and taboos, she still made the occasional social mistake. She turned to face this Spencer Reid as she sheepishly wrung her hands together.

"I'm sorry. My psychiatrist used to say my Asperger's borderlines sociopathic tendencies."

The corner of his mouth lifted.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?"

The smile that bloomed over Lou's face was contagious.

"So you do understand humour! Maybe you're not such a lost cause, Doctor."

They got to the lecture hall, where Lou turned to face Spencer.

"You have a card, right?"

Spencer nodded, digging into his pockets to pull out one of his cards. He handed to Elena, who looked at it for a second before pulling a pen from her pocket to scribble on something in the back. She gave him the card, which Spencer saw ten digits making a phone number he would never forget.

"Call me if you need any more information. I'll call you if I remember something."

She had just done his job for him, she noticed as she turned towards the door. Grabbing onto the door handle, she turned to face the doctor.

"It was nice meeting you, Spencer."

She said his name on purpose, because Reid seemed inappropriate, and Agent or Doctor just didn't settle properly with Lou. So she had chosen Spencer, because it encased how she felt about that man at the moment.

Spencer… It really suits him.

He looked at her, the odd feeling of sadness coming through as he bid her farewell.

"Bye Elena."

She was never Elena. She was always Lou. Yet somehow, it felt kind-of nice that Doctor Reid had called her by her first name. She still hated the name Elena, but she didn't mind Spencer saying it. She smiled at him again, turning the doorknob once, twice, and a third time before pulling it open. To her surprise, every one of her students had remained in their seats, which caused her to forget for a moment about the doctor on the other side of the door who had an IQ of 187, had mild autism, found exponents hilarious, worked with the FBI and apparently wasn't Batman.

"What the- you guys listened to me? How the hell did this happen? This needs to be counted as a social phenomenon."

Hit the subscribe button, and leave a review!

xoxo N.