✓ | sick of losing soulmates [SPENCER REID]

4.2

4.2
( the team. )

☆ ★ ☆

Rossi is the first to speak. "So we have more than one unsub," he says, folding his arms as he paces around the desk to stand behind the computer, facing the team.

"Most teams stick together," Spencer points out. "They don't usually kill separately."

"Could be some kind of gang initiation," Morgan suggests.

"Gangs'll kill you if you go in their territory, not random people all over the city," Emily says.

"I'll coordinate with the Gang Task Force," JJ speaks up, pushing herself out of her chair and moving to walk away. "I'll make sure we have an overview by morning." She disappears into the room at the back of the office, where Iris and Spencer had been that morning, to make the call.

"Do you think we have enough for a working profile?" asks Kate. Maybe it's the accent, but she speaks so obnoxiously that Iris is beginning to really dislike her.

"Broad strokes," Rossi answers.

"Dave, Remy and Reid talk to the agents here," orders Hotch, looking around them, and the three of them nod. "Morgan and Prentiss, brief the officers when they come on shift tomorrow."

"I think we should go out on the streets," Morgan says.

Iris finds herself nodding briefly — he has a point, after all — but stops abruptly when, uncharacteristically sharply considering her kind voice and, apparently, never-ending hospitality, Kate retorts blankly, "I brought you here to create a profile."

"Which we can give in the morning," Morgan says, "and they can share it with the afternoon shift."

"We've allocated every extra man we have." She sounds so sensible, so reasonable, especially with her accent and soft voice, that it's infuriating. "This is New York City — it's not like a few more people is gonna blanket the city." Sarcasm? Iris thinks. That's a refreshing change, the tone of voice of her internal monologue turns from lightly sarcastic to angry and bitter, you stupid cow.

"I understand it's a long shot," Morgan says coldly, clearly not appreciating the fact that Kate is speaking to him like he's a toddler (Iris isn't all too pleased about it, either), "but these guys, they hit at midday. We could target particular neighbourhoods. Position us near subway stops: fourteenth, forty-second, fifty-ninth — "

"Morgan," Hotch interrupts. Morgan looks up, inhaling sharply. "It's not your call."

Morgan hesitates, looking between them, and with a silent but visual sigh (his broad shoulders deflate) he turns his stare down to the ground.

"I'd like to help you with your profile, if that's not stepping on you're toes," Kate continues nonchalantly.

"No problem," Rossi says. His voice is tight, and Iris doesn't have to be a profiler to tell that, beneath his calm façade, he's hiding shock at Morgan's outburst.