Derek Morgan sat in the little room, staring at the college freshman girl across from him. "Thank you for coming in, Miss Kreig. You knew Amelia McCorkle and Rachel Aubuchon?" He asked, and she nodded. "What about… Sammi Wilhelm?"

"No." She said, shaking her head. "Amelia and Rachel were in my grade in High School. Sammi was younger. I knew who she was, but we weren't friends. God… I can't believe this is happening. When Amelia disappeared, it was so… God, it was so terrifying. When Rachel disappeared a year later it was déjà vu… Like some, sick joke. It didn't even feel real."

"Miss Krieg… Tell me about how Rachel and Amelia felt about themselves. How they looked."

"Uh… good, I guess. They took pride in their appearances."

"Were they happy with how they looked?"

"Well… I mean, we all had things about ourselves that we didn't like, you know? There's a LOT of pressure on girls to…"

"Conform to the standards of beauty that society has set?" Morgan asked, and she nodded. "Miss Krieg… I'd like to show you pictures of your friends. But only if you're okay with it…"

"Why?"

"The pictures are after they were found."

"You mean they're… dead?" She asked, blue eyes widening and she clenched her fists in her skirt.

"Yes."

"Why do you want me to look at them?"

"I'm hoping you can give me some insight on something."

"Well… okay." She nodded, and Morgan laid two photos out on the table.

"This is how they looked when they died. How would they have felt about it?"

She took a deep breath, and looked. She released it a moment later. "Wow… They… it doesn't look like them."

"How would they have felt about their appearance? Their natural appearance. Never mind the lack of make up and stuff. I'm talking about their hair and eye color. Their weight…" Morgan explained what he wanted.

"They wouldn't have liked it." She confirmed, frowning. "They… didn't like their brown hair or brown eyes… thought they were boring. And… they really put on weight before they… died." She trailed off. "They would have been… horrified, looking like that…"

"Even if that was what was healthy for them?"

"Healthy? They… they were… fat, when they died."

"No." Morgan said, putting away the photos. "They weren't. They were medically ideal when they died. When they were abducted, they were medically underweight."

"… Tell that to the magazines and movies and other girls around us." She said, bitterly. Then slowly looked up at Morgan. "… R-Really?"

Reid stared at his map, tapping the tip of his marker against his lower lip.

"Reid?" Hotch asked, walking into the room. "Anything?"

"No…" Reid sighed. "The dump sites are all out here in the woods…" And he tapped an area where three red tacks had been pushed into the map. "And the suspected abduction sites are all out here, in town…" And he tapped another area on the other side of the map where three yellow tacks were. "Odds are, the UnSub lives between these two areas, but that really doesn't narrow it down too much. Half the town's population live in this area."

"Well… he would need a house that wasn't close to others." Rossi pointed out. "This guy needs privacy."

"That rules out half of what's left." Reid snorted.

"Hey…" Emily called. "How can we be sure that he's not a she?"

"Unlikely…" Hotch sighed. "But we can't rule that out."

"This person would need to have the strength to get the bodies out to these remote areas." Reid pointed out.

"But not too remote." JJ reasoned. "The first two victims were found within a day of their murder. On well travelled walking trails. The reason it took so long to find Sammi was because scavengers dragged her body off of the trail."

"In all cases, there were ATV tracks on the trails…" Morgan pointed out. "But different sets from multiple vehicles."

"There are a lot of folk out here who use ATV's in the warm months, and snow mobiles in the winter." The sheriff told them.

"We could send some of the tracks to Garcia." Morgan offered.

"May not narrow it down too much. Whatever models they belong to, there'll be multiple people in the area who have them." The sheriff said.

"True." Rossi said. "But maybe we can find a model or two in common at all the dump sites. That will at least narrow things down."

"… Alright then." The sheriff nodded.

"Sheriff…" JJ asked, "is there anyone who lives in the middle of the three dump sites?"

"No ma'am." The sheriff said. "That's right on the edge of a National Forest. No one lives within five miles of the closest body."

Reid huffed slightly.

"Look… we need to have a press conference." JJ said. "This guy could take another victim any time, and she'll disappear for months. We need to warn the victim pool."

And just an hour later, JJ's face was plastered all over the local news, even as the team presented their profile to the LEO's.

"The person we are looking for, we believe to be obsessed with the idea of natural beauty." Hotch declared to the room at large. "This UnSub targets young, impressionable women in High School, who take great lengths to alter their natural appearance so as to conform to the beauty ideals that society projects."

"This is a hot topic right now," Emily chimed in. "There's a lot of discussion about how images of women are altered, and how women are damaging their own health to present these images of perfection. This UnSub is taking things into his or her own hands with the girls in your community."

"The UnSub cuts their hair." Morgan explained. "Every victim had dyed their hair colors that were not their natural color. Blonde, red… those hair colors seen to be more attention grabbing and desirable than their natural light brown. And over the months the UnSub has them, their hair grew out naturally. The girls all wore colored contacts, but there was no sign that they had worn contacts for a long time. They all tanned. Their skin was a more natural tone at the time of their deaths. But probably the most revealing thing was their weight. When these girls were abducted, they would have been classified as medically under weight. When they were killed, they were at their perfect medical weight. But after speaking to their friends, we have to conclude that the victims would have seen themselves as overweight."

"If these girls," Rossi added in, "looked at themselves in the state they were in at their time of death, their friends told us that they would have been… very unhappy. Even hated how they looked."

"And that," Hotch declared, "is what we believe led the UnSub to kill them. He or she went to great efforts to bring the girls to a perfect, natural, HEALTHY state, and the girls hated it. Were unable to appreciate it. Therefore, the project was a failure, the UnSub disposed of them, and went to start over."

"There was no sign of sexual interaction, either forced or consensual." Reid said. "Nothing about this indicates that sex could have been a driving factor for this UnSub. That's how we came to the conclusion as to his or her motives. This UnSub is… especially hard to predict. We can't be sure of age, or even gender. But something has driven this UnSub to do what they are doing. Perhaps they lost someone who was unable to accept themselves as attractive. Perhaps the UnSub is trying to reconcile the idea that their own natural beauty is not appreciated. Either way, this UnSub is very mentally disturbed, but is able to hide that and present normalcy. He or she is far too organized. We need to focus on people who keep to themselves, and put a lot of emphasis on clean, natural living.

"Uh, Agents? That's pretty commonplace, these days…" A female deputy pointed out, and Reid drooped, sighing and nodding.

He slipped away as the team began fielding questions, and stepped outside. He inhaled the chill air, crisp with the coming winter and the sharp, sweet scent of pine. Immediately, he thought of Logan. And then he was pulling out his phone and dialing.

"Hey dere, Nightlight!"

Spencer blinked, and checked his phone to make sure he had dialed Logan. But no, it was Logan's phone… He just smiled and shook his head.

"Hey, Remy."

"Wolvie be in a Danger Room session righ' now, cher. Dey be evaluatin' Abyss."

"Who?"

"Uh, Kalifa." Remy clarified. "Dey ain't lettin' Remy downstairs yet. Not unless it be t' go t' de lab, an' Remy ain't goin dere any time soon. Leas', not willin'ly."

"How are you?"

"Hangin' in dere. Off de crutches, cast's gone. Still limpin' t'ough. Had t' ice my leg an' ankles yesterday."

"You sound frustrated." Reid observed with a smile.

"Mais, oui. Dis sucks." Remy bitched, and Reid chuckled, asking "How long does Hank think it will take you to fully recover?"

Remy let out a disgusted sigh. "Two months."

"Be grateful, Remy. That's only four months of recovery time, total, and you're already halfway done. Others would take almost a year."

"Je sais, je sais…" Remy groaned, and Reid smiled.

"I know. You hate sitting still." The younger man said in a soothing tone, and Remy let out a deep sigh.

"Ain't jus' dat, Spencer." Remy finally confessed. "Jus' feel too… vulnerable. Can barely get up an' down de stairs wit'out help. If anyt'ing were to happen… De Brotherhood… de Mauraders… Iffin' dey attack de house, Gambit can't help. Be a liability like dis, me! Can't fight. Can't run! If Essex-!" He stopped mid sentence.

Spencer waited, but when Remy didn't continue, Spencer finished the thought for him. "If Sinister finds out about your current weakened condition, he may try to make a move on you."

"… oui. An' he'd get me."

"You have a LOT of people there that would stand between you and Sinister, Remy. They wouldn't let him."

"An' if any o' dem got hurt…" Remy argued.

"It would be the same as you getting hurt protecting one of them. You wouldn't regret it. You would feel it was completely worth it. And that's how they would feel about you. You're the X-Men. And you protect each other."

"… Hate it when you talk sense, me." Remy complained, and Spencer grinned.

"You'll be fine, Remy. And besides. Even if Essex did get you, do you really think any of us would ever stop hunting for you?" Remy was silent. "Logan and I would tear this world apart and burn it to the ground to find you. Just like you would for us. And so would Rogue. And Storm. And Scott, and Jean… Your father… Hell, even your ex-wife. You have a LOT of people who love you, Remy. And who would move Heaven, Earth and Hell for you, if you needed them."

Remy was still silent, but Spencer could hear his breath shaking. "I love you, Remy."

"… Love you too, Spencer." Remy gasped, and then pair just sat in silence, allowing an emotional Remy to compose himself. "How's de case goin?"

"Frustrating. We have three girls dead and another could go missing any time."

"How long he keep 'em? What's he doin'?"

"Uh… he keeps them for months. Takes them in October and kills them the following summer. And… he gets them into the most healthy, natural state that he can. He has them put on weight until they're medically ideal, cuts their dyed hair and has it grow out natural…"

"… dat's weird…"

"Yeah. Before they were taken they were medically underweight, had dyed their hair, tanned, wore colored contacts…"

"What're y'all t'inkin'?"

"The profile has too many holes." Spencer admitted with a huff. "We are assuming that this UnSub is kidnapping these girls, getting them healthy, and then kills them when they can't appreciate themselves when they see what he's done for them. Their friends say that the victims would have hated how they looked at their times of death. So we suspect that they maybe are someone who feels that their own natural beauty isn't appreciated or—"

"Or dey lost someone?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. Like… a child passed due to anorexia or somet'in' like dat?"

"Or something…"

"… Maybe jus' me… but dat kinda damage, to kill kids… Wouldn't be over demself. If dey were dat damaged at bein' unaccepted, wouldn't suicide be mo' likely?"

"It's hard to say. Some people have psychotic breaks that force them to project their rage at themselves out onto others…"

"But would someone in a psychotic break have de faculties to abduct girls and keep em dat long like dat?"

"… Doubtful. I think you're right. It has to be something that happened to someone they loved… I gotta go."

"Y' find dis connard an' you come home safe t' Remy, y'hear?"

"I hear you." Spencer smiled.

"Bon. Been too long since ol' Remy had you." Came the low purr, and Reid's eyes widened and he blushed. "You gonna come see me?"

"… Yes." Spencer squeaked, wincing when he heard the chuckle beside him, and he glanced over to see Morgan giving him a knowing grin, and Emily giving him a curious look.

"Remy lookin' forward to it." The Cajun drawled, a smirk on his lips. He KNEW he would have Spencer blushing… "Remy miss bein' wit' you, mon amour… Miss de taste o'yer lips… de sweat on yer skin… dose hot lil' noises y' make…"

"Remy!" Spencer hissed, eyes wide as he suddenly found himself surrounded by his entire team and two deputies, all giving him curious looks.

"How y' feel wrapped aroun' dis Cajun… naked…"

"REMY! Enough! I'm hanging up now!"

"Awwww… an' ruin Remy's fun?!"

"Goodbye, Remy."

"Why you bein' so mean to po' Remy?"

"Goodbye, Remy!" Spencer repeated, louder.

"Aw, c'mon, cher! Bored as hell, me! Stuck in bed an—"

Spencer hung up, sighing and shaking his head with a little smile on his face.

"What was THAT about?" JJ asked.

"Remy's bored, stuck in bed," Spencer admitted, as Morgan blinked and looked down at his buzzing cell phone. "Saying that he's hyperactive is… putting it mildly." Rossi chuckled.

"He's going crazy?" Hotch asked, looking amused. Before Reid could answer, they all turned when they heard Morgan say into his phone, "What? Who is this? Speakerphone? Uh…" He looked up at the team and held up his phone. "You're on speaker…"

"Spen-cerrrr!" Came the loud whine. "Hangin' up on po' Remy?! Dat wasn't nice!"

Reid let out a shriek and leapt for Morgan's phone, but Morgan, laughing, held it up over his head. Reid, struggling to get at it, cried "How did you get Morgan's number?!"

"Pfft! Had de numbers for everyone on y' team for YEARS, now, me!"

"Dammit, Remy!" Reid cried.

"C'mon now, Nightlight…"

"Stop calling me that!" Spencer shouted, and then glaring at Morgan, suddenly raised a hand and his eyes glowed. Morgan only had a moment to realize what Spencer was going to do, before Spencer had hurled a bolt of light and knocked the phone out of his hand. The cops yelped and jumped, and watched as the phone, encased in a ball of light, flew over everyone's heads and into Reid's waiting hands. He just glared at Morgan, turned off the speaker phone and said "I'm telling Logan. No, don't whine to me… I'm on a case! I know you're bored, but you need to behave yourself… No. No, just… NO. I'll call you when we wrap things up and we're heading home... And Remy? Do NOT call my team again unless it's an emergency… Yes, I'm about as serious as I can get… Oh, you BET you're in trouble! Uh huh… Yeah. I'll see you when I get back… Yeah. Me too."

Spencer moved to hang up but paused and put it back to his ear. "Wait, what now? NO! Absolutely not! Don't you DARE! No, I- what..? What?! No, I'm not going to… but—I'm not-! You—" He paused, then sighed and drooped. "Fine… Fine, yes. Alright... Yeah. Yeah… I promise…" And with a little shy smile on his face, he hung up and gave Morgan his phone back before he ran his hand through his hair.

"Uh… sorry, guys." He mumbled, and laughing, Morgan pocketed his phone. The others were grinning in amusement, too.

"He keeps you on your toes, doesn't he?" Hotch asked, grinning, and Reid covered his face and groaned "You have NO idea… He DID make a good point, though. Odds are, our UnSub wouldn't be doing this if it was about them. The trigger had to be something happening to someone they love. We need to have Garcia look into any unnatural deaths that happened prior to the first victim going missing…"

"We have seven." Garcia said, looking at the team on her screen, and they looked back at her. "And one is… particularly interesting. Twenty year old Mikayla Polys."

"… Mikayla?" The sheriff asked, eyes wide.

"You know her?" Hotch asked.

"Uh… my Son-In-Law is her cousin. Or, was… she died five years back." The sheriff said.

"Mikayla went to college in New York," Garcia began, "and tried to get a gig in modeling. She was turned away. A lot. She did everything she could to alter her appearance to make the cut. Dyed her hair, got a nose job, got breast augmentation surgery, tummy tuck, even had a procedure to make her eyes wider… injections to plump up her lips… Eventually, she flunked out and came home with… enormous debt. She was anorexic, bulimic, manic depressive. She was finally hospitalized when she tried to get a… HORRIBLE surgery done to make herself taller… it involves… breaking the legs and keeping the ends of the bone separated, but close enough so that new bone growth occurs between them. And then repeating the process. It's long and painful, but she could have potentially gained inches in height. When her father found out she wanted to go through that, he had her hospitalized. And there, she… committed suicide. Apparently, it had been her dream since she was little to be a model."

And then two images appeared on the screen. The first was of a high school girl with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a wide smile. She had a slender, but curvy figure. The second image looked like a woman who was a decade older at least. She had blue eyes, blonde hair, she was tan, with large breasts, but the rest of her was, in a word, gaunt.

"Oh my God…" Emily breathed.

"That's Mikayla." Garcia said sadly. "Before she went to college, and after she came home. Her father is a retired physician. He uh… apparently talked to a few lawyers after his daughter's death about the options in taking legal actions against the modeling agencies who had turned his daughter away and told her that she was fat, but they were never able to put together a proper case. And then… he wrote a letter to one of the agencies with a photo of his daughter, asking what disqualified her from being a model… and he actually heard back. They said she simply didn't have the body type they wanted in models. She was short, and her bones weren't long or elegant enough. Hence why she wanted the procedure to…"

"Conform to their standards…" JJ growled, looking beyond furious.

"Where does her father live?" Rossi asked the sheriff, who walked over to Reid's geographical profile, and, right in the middle of the suspected area where the UnSub lived, he tapped the map.

"Right here."

"Let's go." Hotch nodded, and off they went.