This Love: Spencer Reid

best interest

we gathered at a local police station, hotch and emily briefed the cops while the rest of us handed out copies of papers with mal's face on them to NYPD.

the local sheriff walked in and approached you and i.

"when i find this dude, i swear i'm going to kill him." he said, crossing his arms as if he was the main character in some sort of cheesy super hero movie.

you raised your eyebrows and glanced from me back to him. "actually, um... i would advice against that. it is in your best interest to hold him to the full extent of the law and killing him would not cater to that." you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady and loud.

"this guy is batshit crazy! he doesn't deserve the law."

you stood there and blinked a few times, clearly disagreeing against his word choice. he looked you up and down and scoffed, walking away with a mean laugh.

dipshit.

our team and the officers gathered around a table, waiting for someone to speak up first.

"it's clear that he is confident he won't get caught. he's mocking authority with every move he takes. we shouldn't release any news to the press, that will give him what he wants." derek said loudly. the room buzzed with agreement.

jj nodded and ran to out the doors of the police station where news reporters were setting up their equipment.

"we should also block off major roads and increase police presence around the city." i added,  fidgeting with my thumb nail.

i shuddered, the weight of the situation and the early morning making me feel a sick kind of cold. you turned to me and tilted your head slightly.

"do you want my jacket?"

i started to shake my head, but you were already peeling it off. "i'm overheating. take it." you grabbed my wrist and worked the sleeves down my arms and adjusted it to fit comfortably, giving my shoulder a couple of proud pats before backing away.

hotch's phone rang and the room fell silent.

"hello?"

he pressed speaker and held it up, a finger to his lips telling us to stay silent. derek jogged swiftly out of the room to call penelope and tell her to trace it.

"aaron hotchner! nice to speak to you again. i apologize that our conversation this morning was so short."  the muffled voice on the phone was mocking and cruel. i could feel the room shrink in anticipation, the only noise besides the phone to be heard was the uncomfortable ruffling of coats.

hotch looked up and locked eyes with me, watching my face as he thought of how to reply.

"where are you located?" he said, surprisingly calm.

"you're the big scary F.B.I agent, you tell me."

"mal, you've killed 2 prison guards. if you turn yourself in now we could work something out but if you continue to run from law enforcement i can't promise that you will see the light of day."

the sheriff ran up to hotch, snatching the phone from his hands quickly.
"you turn yourself in right now you son of a bitch so i can kill you myself!"
hotch's eyes widened and he turned to face the sheriff, frantically shaking his head.

mal hung up.

hotch retrieved his phone from the sherif and slammed it down onto the table with a frustrated yell. "what was that?"

the sheriff took a few defensive steps back as if he hadn't just botched this entire thing."i had to let that damn bastard know he ain't the one in control." he replied, his shaky voice a contrast to his seemingly bold words.

"in this situation he is completely the one in control. or at least we should make him feel like he is. if we scare him," emily paused, closing her eyes and sighing. "we could trigger him to strike again." she said slowly, as if she was explaining subraction to a five year old.

hotch put his face in his hands, muttering statements of anger.

derek walked in the room waving his cellphone. his head was down and his face was contorted with frustration. "garcia wasn't able to trace the call, it was too short." he spat.

"there isn't much we can do now. that could of sent our guy into hiding. the most we can hope for is that he kills again and it exposes his location." i said, sharing my frustrations.

"oh and so now i'm the bad guy." the sheriff muttered, throwing his hands up in sarcastic fear and storming out of the room.

"yeah, you kinda are." you shouted, your words following him out the door.