Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, Durarara!, or any related aspects, which belong to their respective owners. No money made.

Summary: One is a genius. The other may very well be one too. In any case, if these two actually met the universe would fall apart or something. Probably the most magnificent thing I've ever written.

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild language, Izaya

[Criminal Minds/Durarara!] Brilliance [Reid/Izaya]

Spencer Reid had seen much in his life. This was new. This was… appalling.

He tried to hold his gun steady.

And the black-haired man in front of him smiled charmingly.

"Hi! Who are you?" He spoke in cheery tones, though it was quite obvious that English was not his first language. Reid gauged the odd accents and came up with Japanese as a conclusion.

"My name is Spencer Reid. I'm with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I want you to step away from where you are and put your hands on your head." He tried to keep authority in his voice. He failed.

The circumstances were just too… bizarre.

"Reid-san! Nice to meet you!" The man bowed mockingly, still grinning. He was young, about Spencer's age, and lanky, with the same build as the young genius. "My name is Orihara Izaya, pleased to meet you! Please take care of me!"

Reid blinked. How could he be so cheery and mocking when a gun was pointed at his chest? This person… he knew no fear. Reid tried to work on a profile in his mind. A sociopath? Clearly mentally unstable, but- judging by what he'd done-

This man would have had to have some degree of intelligence.

"Oh! But, in this country it's family name last and given first, am I right?" The Asian man tapped a finger against his chin as if in deep thought. "It's Izaya Orihara, then! How rude of me, I'm not carrying any business cards…" He fumbled around in his pockets and Reid gripped his handgun more tightly. "I'll be sure to print some when I get back home! I'll give you my email instead!"

Another maniacal smile.

"I said-" Reid stared the man down, going for aggression rather than tolerance, "-step away from the edge and put your hands on your head!"

The edge.

That's right. Izaya Orihara or Orihara Izaya or what ever this maniac's name was was standing on the edge of a 400-foot tall building. On both sides of him, lined up ready to fall to their deaths, were a total of fifteen large duffel bags.

Reid wished he'd brought backup.

Izaya laughed mentally. This was great!

He'd originally planned to push each bag down, one by one, letting the contents fall to the streets below, but then suddenly a young man had burst out of a door and interrupted him. But, the man was an American, and rather vulnerable-looking. Izaya figured that he could practice his English and have his fun all at once!

It was very win-win!

"So, Reid-san, please explain to me, what is this 'Behavioral Analysis Unit' you work for?" What a long name. So difficult to pronounce.

The young man narrowed his gaze. "The BAU works as part of the FBI in America to profile and seek criminals like you. Put your hands on your head. I won't repeat myself."

"Oh, you shorten it to 'BAU'! That's much better, really. Faster to say. But, Reid-san, I want to ask, though. What- ah…" he searched for the right word, "what authority do you have to point a gun at me? Am I doing something criminal-like?"

Reid's mind raced. "Unlawful trespass, suspicious behavior. I want you away from the edge of the building and I want to know what's in the bags."

Izaya walked, slowly, over to the center of the rooftop, closer to Reid. "So you want the bags? You can have them, though I don't believe you'd want them." He still refused to put his hands anywhere other than by his sides. "But, I'll make a deal with you."

Something slipped from his coat sleeve to his palm and Reid fired.

I missed? How… how could I have missed? And more importantly… who the hell runs towards a gun when a shot is fired?

Now on top of him, this… crazy, unpredictable man was inspecting his fur-lined jacket. "Aw, Reid-san, that's not very nice. Now I'll have to get it fixed when I go home." He pointed to a hole on the left side. It had gunpowder burn around the edges.

I missed at point-blank range?

Izaya looked like a child denied a chocolate-chip cookie or an ice cream. "That's so rude, Reid-san. You shouldn't go around firing guns at people like that. Someone could get hurt. Namely me, as a matter of fact. You wouldn't want that to happen, would you?" He didn't wait for an answer.

He'd pinned Reid's hands above his head and swatted the gun away after disarming it and pocketing the clip. Now, he sat on Reid happily, a flick-blade pressed to the agent's throat. "So, will you still make that deal with me?"

Reid didn't answer, his mind still reeling from shock and trying desperately to find a way out of his bizarre situation. My phone is in my back pocket. I need to find a way to get to it. God, if only Hotch and his teammates were here.

"Fine. Don't answer. But, I just wanted to say that inside each of those duffel bags is a young woman. And, well, if you want to save them, you should probably do what I want. I'm not asking much, really."

Reid's eyes widened. Fifteen women? This man had kidnapped fifteen women and put them into oversized duffel bags and teetered them on the edge of a skyscraper?


Instinctually, Reid rushed through his profile and decided that if he couldn't get out of this mess…

Well, then the only way to go was farther in.

"What do you want me to do?"

"That's more like it, Reid-chan! May I call you Reid-chan? I feel like I've known you forever!" He beamed at Reid. "Alright, so I'm going to take this-" he wiggled the knife against the skin of Reid's throat, "-and put it here." He raised the blade to Reid's cheek.

"Now, listen closely, Reid-chan. There are fifteen bags. There is one of you. I'm going to use this knife to trace your pretty face fifteen times. If you make any noise or try to resist then I push those women good-bye over the rooftop, okay? Sayonara. They'll never see their families or their friends or the light of day again." He swayed from side to side on top of Reid happily.

"N-no. Absolutely not. I-I'm not going to just let you cut me-"

Izaya's face contorted to an expression of mock horror. "Oh, Reid-chan, I'm insulted! You think so little of me! I'm not going to cut you, silly! I'm just going to let my knife dance over your cheeks, your chin, your lips~" He smiled soothingly. "Okay?"

No. No. Definitely not okay.

"Listen, Reid-chan, how about if I cut you by accident, I'll let you and all the young ladies go, alright? I'll just stop right away and leave. Okay?"

No. Still not okay. This crazy person could just stab him wherever he wanted or just kill him right there or maim him for life or he could have been bluffing about the bodies in the bags and he was out of his mind but what could Reid do?


God, Hotch was going to kill him.

"Close your eyes, okay?"

Izaya was beyond happy now. Oh, how he loved humans.

"Okay! Let's begin."

He carefully started his knife at the point where Reid's left ear met his jawbone. He traced down, to the other side, back up, around…

Really, this Spencer Reid was just too cute! Izaya giggled and let the blade run rampant around eyebrows, cheekbones, where flawless skin met hair… his blade dipped and curved, just applying enough pressure to be felt but not breaking skin.

Under him, Reid whimpered.

"You should try not to move, Reid-chan! It would be bad for you if you jerked up and my hand just slipped~ stabbing your eye out or leaving you with a hole somewhere. That would be terrible." He continued anyhow, half-singing, half-humming a little song to himself as he went.

"Fuwa-fuwari~ fuwa-fuwaru~"

Over one eyelid, over the other…

Reid squirmed pitifully, trying his best to keep his head as steady as possible. This was so scary. He cursed himself for being in this situation. Why had he gone up alone? Why had he missed when he'd shot at this maniac?

"Ikebukuro arigato~ Iza-ya no itazura demo~"

Part of Reid's mind registered Ikebukuro as some location that existed in some place he was aware of, but he couldn't really concentrate with a sharp blade on his face.

"Me-gu-ri aeta koto ga~"

Over the lips, now, Izaya taking his sweet time-

"Shia-wa-se na no~~"

Reid was struggling to stay as still as possible and not vomit when the blade slipped into his mouth.

"Oops. Gomen nasai, Reid-chan. I'm done!" He seemed happy with himself. "It wasn't so bad, right? You saved a girl's life! I'm so proud of you!"

Reid almost exhaled in relief, because no, it wasn't all that bad, he had been through far worse, and then Izaya chose that moment to say,

"Only fourteen more to go! Close your eyes, okay?"

Reid had lost count, after a while.

But, out of pure instinct and the subconscious ability to judge between pauses, starts, and hesitation before he could feel the blade on his skin again, Reid reasoned that this was the last time, the fifteenth time that he'd feel that cold metal against his face where it most certainly did not belong.

That, and Izaya kept saying, "Close your eyes, okay?" before he started the next round.

He was still singing that bizarre tune, over and over.

He'd progressed from simple patterns to abstract paths over Reid's features. Reid had decided to just keep his eyes closed somewhere in between the fourth and fifth time.

And then Izaya finished.

Reid felt like screaming in happiness and success and relief.

"Close your eyes, okay?"


Reid frantically went through a recollection of each and every touch he could remember, counting the times the blade had lifted or touched his face, estimating the time elapsed and dividing it by the average estimated time per "round…"

It should have been fifteen already!

What if this man would never let him leave? What if was just going to try and drive Reid to the brink of madness? What was he doing?

"That's it, Reid-san. Just keep your eyes closed, 'kay?"

Reid shivered. The voice was right next to his ear and it was terribly unnerving and then suddenly it was gone and Reid panicked, what would Izaya do now and-

Twenty minutes later, Reid realized Izaya Orihara had already left.

The nerve of that guy. "Close your eyes."

Reid shook his head and smiled a little despite himself, shakily sitting up on the rooftop.

He went to secure the fifteen people he'd saved.

Izaya had gotten off of Reid, and, being the master of parkour he was, jumped from the rooftop to another.

…A 7-foot difference horizontally. But, he was pretty used to it. Constantly running away from Shizu-chan back home in 'Bukuro had taught him a lot. Anyway, he then proceeded to climb up a series of ventilation systems and onto a lovely vantage point from which he could watch the dazed FBI agent slowly get up and regain his senses.

I might have to stick around longer if all of America is this fun! I hope Shizu-chan doesn't miss me too much.

Izaya giggled as he thought about possibly sending a postcard or something of the like to Shizuo. Something perishable, maybe. Or something alive. Or something that would explode. That'd be fun.

He then refocused on the brown-haired man on the adjacent building.

I love humans. I… I love them so much!

And that's why…

Izaya looked to the heavens as Reid opened the first duffel bag.

"…Humans should learn to love me too!"

As soon as he'd dragged the first bag towards the center of the rooftop, Reid knew something was wrong.

He'd been preoccupied with thoughts of, should I call an ambulance? The rest of the BAU? I need to contact the families. I need to check every woman's condition.

So, it had taken a moment for him to register that the bags were really, really light and that although anorexia seems to be the biggest fad among girls nowadays…

On full alert, Reid opened it.

A face smiled back at him from a bed of plastic bubble wrapping.

Spencer Reid didn't support the use of profanity because he found it uncivilized and unimaginative, but in this particular case…

He took a step back and took a good look at the fucking Barbie doll.

He did the same for the next fourteen, laughed, nearly cried, sat back down on the rooftop and thought he heard "hito RABU~" somewhere in the distance.

"Orihara Izaya." He muttered.


[A/N] I have nothing to say in my defense.

But, I'm proud of myself for writing this. Reid is teetering into OOC-ness in this fic, which bugged me, but I just couldn't get him to cooperate. Izaya makes up for it, he's perfectly in-character.

Also, I think I'm the only person in the world crazy enough to write a crossover between Criminal Minds and Durarara!.

(Oh, shoot, did I really just write a crossover between Criminal Minds and Durarara!)

Thank you very much for reading. Leave quickly before this ruins your brain. If it hasn't already, I mean.