It was February 14, 2010. Valentines' Day. It was also the first Valentines' that any of the BAU could remember without a case. They had just wrapped up a local consultation and the paperwork was so light that they were all out of the building by 5 pm, and so the elevator ride to the lobby was raucous. Everyone was in a good mood. It had been weeks since any of them had even been home in time for dinner, let alone an evening with their families, and as they wished each other a happy Valentines' and walked to their own cars, all of them were smiling.

The day had started its usual way- that is to say, they all were anticipating a relaxing (or in some cases, romantic) Sunday, and were of course called in relatively early in the morning. But the case was in the area, and mostly solved; they were only asked to assist with interrogations, which had taken several hours, and then file their reports on the proceedings. As they left that evening, even Hotch looked happy, and he told them all to get some rest and to sleep in the next day (serial killers and kidnappers providing). He pocketed his phone.

Reid was relatively quiet in the elevator. It wasn't out of embarrassment or anything; he simply had nothing to add to a conversation about Valentines' dates, as he had none, and so he smiled crookedly and headed to his car. Nobody asked about his plans, although Morgan likely would have made a few jokes if they knew that he was on his way to a symphony (The Sounds of Space: A Star Wars/Star Trek Medley), alone. He had invited Prentiss, knowing she didn't have plans either, but she said something about having a standing date with a bottle of aged whiskey at her favorite bar. Rossi had declined, too- he had simply stared at Reid for a moment, his eyes amiable but squinting, and then walked away. Reid thought he heard him muttering 'unbelievable' as he left.

He had thought about asking Hotch. It would be his first Valentines' since Haley died, but he would undoubtedly want to spend that time with Jack, and so Reid walked to his car alone.

The symphony was nice, as usual. He had booked seats in the back, because he liked sitting in the dark, away from the larger, louder crowds. The amphitheater was pleasantly empty and Reid settled into the seatback, closing his eyes but twitching his fingers delicately in time to the music.

It was early when he got home- a little after 11, but it had been a long week, and he was suddenly exhausted. He fumbled for the light switch, yawning as he locked the door.

A warm glow flooded from the lamp and Reid froze. His books, which he usually kept organized by category on the shelves, were scattered across the floor. One hand drifted to his gun as he surveyed the room, his heartbeat hammering in his chest. There were splashes of something dark on the wood floor, and he followed them now, steadying his breath when he observed that the edges of the puddles were a deep crimson. The path trailed through the living room and into his bedroom. Involuntarily his hands flew to his mouth, and from under them escaped a horrified moan.

"No... No, that's not... That's not possible, it's not... It's..."

With shaking hands he pulled his phone from his bag and began to dial.

11:08 PM

Aaron and Jack Hotchner are both in the master bed, asleep, their arms neatly and unintentionally folded in the exact same position. They had cooked dinner together- homemade macaroni, Jack's favorite, with sugar cookies for dessert. They'd iced them, peppering them with red hearts and sprinkles; little Jack had made one for his mother, too. The cookies were especially messy and Hotch had left his jacket hanging over the kitchen chair, trading it for one of Haley's old aprons. And for the first time in a while, Hotch went to bed without plugging his phone into the charger next to him. It buzzes in his coat pocket in the kitchen, silent, and Hotch shifts in his sleep.

11:10 PM

Derek Morgan's hand snakes around the woman's waist and she slaps it away playfully. "Derek, how are we supposed to get dinner if you won't let me get dressed?"

He pauses, looks her over, and slowly bites his lip, his eyes sparkling. "There's plenty to eat here, baby," he smirks, and she shoves him again, but relents and slides into his lap. He had met this one at a bar a couple of weeks back, and she was gorgeous. He kisses her, first on her lips, then sliding down to her neck, and then a little further down...

His phone rings from the kitchen. It isn't on full volume, and the sound goes unnoticed as Morgan misses yet another dinner reservation.

11:10 PM

Emily Prentiss takes a slow sip, watching the man across the bar who had been giving her 'fuck-me' eyes for the last 20 minutes. He signals to the bartender to refill her whiskey and she smiles coyly at him. He's cute enough. Tall. Dark hair. And as he crosses the room to sit next to her she catches a whiff of expensive cologne.

"I don't even want to ask," the man says, giving her a smirk that was just self-confident enough to be sexy. "But I have to. There has to be a damn good reason a woman as beautiful as you is at a bar alone on Valentines' Day."

"You've been watching me," Prentiss observes, raising an eyebrow and wiping the condensation from her glass.

"Mm. I've been... postulating," he says, waving his hand in a movement that belied a slight drunkenness, "and I have come to the conclusion that you..."

"Should give you my number?" Prentiss laughs. He might have been witty a couple of drinks ago but he now he was adorable, and it was Valentines', after all.

"Call me." He's grinning, reciting his number, and he makes Emily dial it into her phone and call him so he could have her number, too. She holds the phone out to show him that the line is ringing, and so she doesn't hear the tone notifying her that another call is trying to come through.

11:12 PM

Penelope Garcia and Kevin Lynch are sitting on the floor against the sofa. The table in front of them is laden with the remnants of a feast Garcia had cooked herself, and on the TV Dune had been playing for several hours.

Kevin walks into the kitchen, checking over his shoulder that Garcia isn't watching, and pulls a can of Reddi-Whip from the fridge. He notices that her cellphone was ringing, where it had been left on the counter, and thinking it to be Hotch, his heart falls. He picks it up and sees the caller ID- Boy Genius, and a wave of relief washes over him. Reid often called Garcia when he was watching Doctor Who, but Kevin figures he would understand if Garcia didn't pick up on this particular evening. He silences the phone and walks back into the living room with his whipped cream, humming cheerfully.

11:13 PM

Jennifer Jareau and Will LaMontagne have put Henry to bed. He is a little older than a year, now, and both parents felt like they hadn't had any "alone time" since he was born. They hide under the sheets like teenagers, laughing and murmuring in hushed voices. Their hands are longing, eager; both have been looking forward to an opportunity like this, and in preparation JJ silenced her phone before sliding into bed with Will. She told herself she would turn the volume back on after, in case Hotch called with a case, but she fell asleep with her head buried in Will's chest. If she had remembered, she would have seen the single notification- a missed call from Spencer Reid.

11:15 PM

David Rossi, like Prentiss, is celebrating his Valentines' with a bottle- only his is Scotch, and far more expensive than Prentiss's bar could afford to stock. He savors it as he stares into the fireplace, the ghost of a cigar still lingering in the air. Jazz is playing softly, and there is a knock at the door. Rossi stands, straightens his shirt, and leaves the room to let Erin Strauss in. His phone, left by his half-empty glass, buzzes once, twice, and then is silent.