DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds. I just took them out to play and I promise put them back when I'm done.

It's my first fic and obviously English is not my first language as You will probably quickly spot it. However I hope that I'd given the characters the justice they deserve.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Changing Shoes

SSA Spencer Reid

He was a profiler for far too long to miss the sudden subtle change of air or what was far more annoying to him, stares which landed on him as soon as he had his back turned. JJ, Garcia or Ashley didn't participate in this ridiculous mind-game other three were playing with him. The game annoyed him immensely because he was fairly sure that after nearly ten years of doing his job in one way or another they should remember that they were Supervisory Special Agents but so was he.

That's right, he was Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer William – thank you my parents had great sense of humor – Tennyson Reid. Hotch and Morgan might have be ten years, and Rossi twenty-seven years older than him but he wasn't the youngest agent to enter FBI academy for nothing. Besides, he rarely reminded them of that fact he was a provable genius and one didn't have to be a genius to realize that for the last few weeks he was under strict surveillance for no apparent reason.

At first he thought that he had to do something but since Hotch didn't call him on anything other than strictly case related issues as they were greatly preoccupied with serial kidnapper. Once the case was solved, the unsub was in custody and last victim had returned home safely Spencer allowed himself to ponder over Hotch's, Morgan's and Rossi's newly developed behavior.

Usually when he allowed his mind to wander too far and he found himself in the middle of a lecture the other three usually tended to get him back to the point or cut the lecture altogether. He was aware of the fact that when he fixated himself on an interesting subject he could talk for as long as his mind was finding new connections between the facts, which could be long (his personal record was four hours, thirteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds with addition to quite severe case of laryngitis that rendered him speechless next day).

They were cutting him off for so long that he managed to divert a small fraction of his attention to observing their reactions from the corner of the eye to stop himself midstream when their expressions became too pained. There were times when he managed to stop himself from babbling before it came to that and there were times when one of them cleared their throat to distract him.

Three weeks ago when he caught himself dwelling too deep into the historical murders in local parish neither Hotch, nor Morgan nor Rossi made an attempt to stop him. After that they just let him talk at great lengths and variety of subjects if time allowed.

Then there was one of the three of them following him to meals, always allowing him to pick something for the two of them and never commenting on his shift in diet The most painful thing however was coffee, which was brought to his desk or station or just general location he planted himself while working every single time. It was made just exactly right in his most favorite way. Strong, very sweet with little milk and hint of walnut aroma. It was perfect. Perfect in old times when he joked that if someone invented coffee IV drip he would be the first person to sign up for permanent hook up. Not quite right when his caffeine intake had to be strictly controlled and shouldn't be higher than three cups daily.

Instead of coffee he fixated himself on flavored tea and he had a variety of flavors to pick from, always keeping a pack of mixed flavors in the box stashed in his messenger bag.

Seemingly there were no comments about his improved physical shape. He would still not outrun Morgan and he wasn't even attempting to try it but he would be able to keep his peace while running with Hotch and he would be definitely able to outrun Rossi. Then again he was on strict doctor's orders to keep at least one activity which would keep him in remotely good shape

Until it started snowing his activity of a choice was riding a bike around the neighborhood, an activity he enjoyed immensely and he promised himself that through the winter he would gain enough stamina to pull off riding a bike to and from Quantico in the spring.

An attempt on using relaxing techniques left him four times so deeply relaxed that he simply fell asleep on the floor.

But the most important thing about his health he enjoyed himself immensely was lack of migraines, he still had occasional nightmares but migraines were gone for good.

After a year, two months and three days finally he was migraine-free, not feeling even a smallest throb behind his eyelids. He only had his contacts adjusted slightly, which helped his vision.

Frankly it had been a while since he felt this good, so much in his prime. After all he turned thirty-one three months and a week ago.

Then why the constant supervision made him feel like incompetent toddler who just learned how to walk?

He knew that he outgrew 'rookie phase' at some point, frankly aside of a case in Florida when he wandered into the house without Kevlar vest with a mind splitting migraine he hadn't done anything irresponsible since wandering into Doctor Nichols house and getting anthrax.

He also knew that he had an opinion of the patient one, the one that would leash out the last and the one who could tear the suspect apart just by using his intellect and he wished that the other three could remember that.

Today was Friday, 13th January, the other three had until Monday, 16th till six o'clock in the evening to quit their game before he would prove them that a genius doesn't get mad, just simply gets even.

The girls already left for the day but the lights coming from Hotch's and Rossi's office pointed that they were still working and so did Morgan who was coming and going between his and Hotch's office.

He saved his file, turned the computer off and dropped the files he intended to look over the weekend into his messenger bag before he stood up, turned his lamp off and whistling to the tune 'No Woman No Cry' left the bullpen (okay, he might have given them the time till Monday but that didn't mean that he couldn't start unsettling them a bit now).

As he pushed the lobby button he smirked to himself. He felt like skiving lesson and he just knew where to find the teacher.

SSA Aaron Hotchner

Aaron, Dave and Derek were inside Aaron's office discussing their plan for yet another time when the light on Reid's desk was turned off and the genius himself walked away from the bullpen while whistling to 'No Woman No Cry'.

"He is pretty close to snapping," Derek observed. "Let's face it we cannot stale any longer. He needs to be told, Monday before the day is over, the sooner the better."

"I'm surprised that he lasted this long without confrontation," Aaron mussed. "Reid can be pretty short tempered at times."

"He is the patient one," Dave added. "Though once he applies himself to it… Remember Doctor Malcolm's case? He tore Malcolm a new one without a blink and if I was Malcolm I would cave in after receiving first glare."

"He mellowed even more in past few days," Derek said. "He knows that we are observing him and he is observing us just as much if not more."

"He would do good," Aaron sighed. "If we can convince him to do it."

"He won't have another choice," Dave sighed. "Time to call it a day gentlemen."

SSA Spencer Reid

He pulled the Santa cap, Christmas present from Garcia, even tighter to shield his ears from the chilling wind as he scanned the crowd in the park. His teacher would be hard to miss if all of his assumptions were right and because it was chilly his assumptions had to be correct.

There it was. Knee-length, woolen winter coat in his favorite shade of purple, lime-green handmade woolen cap with matching scarf. Hard to miss really.

It took him twelve steps to get close enough to his victim to quickly bend down and grab a fistful of snow, two seconds to form a snow-ball and a second to aim it at his victim's head.

"What's up, Doc?" he smirked when the victim turned to face him.

"I'm meeting a friend here. Skiving lesson, he is going to have his ass kicked, repeatedly," came an amused answer. "So Doc, are you ready?"

"Last time I heard that I had bruised bottom for three days," he smiled at his companion.

"At least you didn't break a tailbone," the smirk appeared on his companion's face.

"So how is the academy?" he asked curiously. "Posting talk should have happened this week. Heard something interesting?"

"That Hawthorn will end in Anchorage, Alaska, he is deeply delighted considering that Virginia was first place he lived in where it happens to snow. As for me I didn't end in the talk, which according to certain genius means that my posting will be closer to the academy, as in Washington or Quantico closer."

"That's a good thing," he said lightly.

"Willcox from Washington's Crime Against Children had been in the talk though, at least I've seen him talking with Jericho, she didn't look happy after the talk. Additionally she had a lunch with Hotch, Rossi and Morgan on Wednesday, they did the talking, not that I heard anything, I only saw them but at least she looked happier than she was with Willcox."

He frowned. Hotch, Rossi and Morgan had a talk with Jericho on Wednesday at lunch and after lunch the stares at his back only intensified.

He looked at his companion and muttered, "Suddenly I'm not in mood for skiving lesson. I'm in mood for a talk, there is a nice tea house around the corner."

"Lead the way," his companion said.

The walk to the tea house was short and didn't take longer than a minute. Once inside they shed their coats and caps and ordered strong black teas with citrine slices.

It was then when he took a better look at his companion.

With her already messy shoulder-length dark brown hair messed by the cap, cheeks pink from the outside chill and small smile formed on her lips which was aided by the certain spark in her light blue eyes she looked younger than she really was and boy she was young.

"Last time I saw this look on you it took me three days to persuade you that you weren't succumbing into schizophrenia and a hellish deal to allow other tests," she said simply.

"But that my precious psych was in July," he smiled at her. "Today, in case you didn't happen to notice the slight chill outside we have January. In July you were still an employee of Georgetown University Hospital, now you are a cadet on your way out from the Academy… the youngest since …" he paused dramatically then added with a mock sigh, "…well me."

"And it amuses you," she pointed out.

"I was the one who advised you to apply for the training as it was rather than wait few years," he shrugged. "The academy has a thing for provable geniuses and after a decade being the youngest agent to join FBI it gets boring, besides they need someone young for invitation lectures," he smirked.

"So what's bugging you Doctor Reid?" she asked. "You frowned upon the mention of Hotch, Rossi and Morgan having a talk with Jericho and you changed our plans for the evening so it's obvious that it bothers you immensely."

"Let's say that the aforementioned trio had been acting weird for some time, mid-December some time," he clarified. "At first I thought that perhaps you made a mistake," her eyebrows shot to her hairline and he smiled sheepishly at her before he continued, "but then I realized that you wouldn't put your career in jeopardy and wouldn't fight for correct diagnosis as hard as you did if you weren't sure that I wasn't losing my mind. That ruled out paranoia but I still felt funny, as if I was under strict supervision curtsey to the trio. Then weirder things started happening. You know that I have a tendency to babble once I get myself fixated on a certain subject, sometimes I catch myself on it, sometimes I don't. Usually when I entered babbling mode and didn't stop myself one of them cut me off completely or brought me back to the focus. It hadn't happen since mid December, since then I had to be the one stopping myself from babbling because they just let me talk."

"And it's a bad thing?" she asked skeptically.

"If you add stares when my back is turned, hushed conversations being cut off in the middle when I enter the room yes, it's a bad thing. Then I went through sorting out phase and I realized that to my knowledge I hadn't done anything wrong, stupid, remotely dangerous or irresponsible in a longer while which ruled out my responsibility but the stares didn't stop, they only intensified."

"You think that the talk between Jericho and the three of them has something to do with their unsettling behavior concerning your person," she stated. "I think that I have an idea where it's going but allow me to be frank, that's stupid."

"Why would it be?" he asked curiously and moved his hand away as the waiter placed the tea in front of him. "Thank you," he said to the waiter. "Aren't you the youngest cadet since… well me?"

"My point is that we already discussed it, Reid," she sighed. "Gideon picked you out and he smoothened the path into the academy for you. As for me, no one did it. I applied because you advised me to try out now rather than wait few years because if I wasn't accepted then I still had time to extend my knowledge in peace."

"But you were accepted into the academy, weren't you?" he shrugged. "You are graduating in two weeks, officially and if your snapping off in December is any indication you would be graduating with honors, at least in theoretical areas, maybe less with physical subjects but at the very least you didn't have to get a remedial training which is good," he smiled at her.

She stared at him pointedly.

"So let's sum it up. Provable genius, check. The youngest in the academy, check. Certified psych, check. Triple doctorates, check. About to graduate, check. In need of posting, check. Where in the name of Einstein they should send you? You are board certified psychiatrist and psychologist in the area of abnormal psychology. That my precious cookie, as Garcia likes to say, warrants a posting where your knowledge and expertise would be very much appreciated. CACU or… let's face it, BAU. Though I would like to point out that normally if BAU was hiring an agent I would hear something about it."

"You didn't," she pointed out.

"Which could mean several things," he continued. "The last probable scenario because Hotch would need a very good reason to do this and I hadn't given him one or I would have to personally bring up the idea and had it discussed at great lengths, with every member of the team I should add, is that I'm being replaced. I know I'm not. So we can move out this scenario out of the way. Then there is another, you will end in BAU in general and they are plainly watching me to check how I would react to having another genius in the unit. Except if that was true I wouldn't be as strictly observed as I happen to be and the subject itself would be brought up regardless my personal feelings on the matter."

"Then there is the third scenario," she said. "Let's face it. You are in BAU for almost a decade and you are a SSA for seven years. Traditionally in other units where relocations are more common an agent after three years of being SSA can have a SA assigned for probation period of two years, it's also an unwritten tradition that SSA in most of the units in a matter of a decade should have at the very least two SA as trainees. Since BAU isn't typical unit following that tradition is avoided. However as I said you are a SSA for seven years which means that for all intent and purposes you can officially be assigned as a probationary agent. Amen."

"Not to mention that because I'm a genius, you are a genius and you are about to beat my record as the youngest graduate from academy and I'm the closest in age to you while having superior position…" he smirked. "I'm quite obvious choice."

"Or the only choice," she said pensively. "Ashley Seaver is still SA herself, will be for ten months at the very least, Rossi is her probationary agent. Hotch and Morgan are trying to work around Hotch being both Section Chief and Chief Unit while being single father. Not to mention that Morgan is quite impatient when it comes to teaching and seeing that I'm a graduate or I will be in two weeks… well I have knowledge but I have no experience and Morgan avoided being parried with you until you started showing some sense and first buds of experience of being in the field. He might be older and more experienced now but patience doesn't grow on trees and if he asked to not be probationary agent and he happens to help Hotch in another way…"

"When you are breaking it like that, yes, I'm the only reasonable choice, besides let's face it there is a big chance that we would develop intellectual kinship and the fact that you are a woman and I would have to teach you would allow me to get more confidence with other women so all in all it's all for the better."

"Is it just me or did I hear a hint of amusement in this comment?" she asked curiously. "Because last time I heard that note Doctor Quircle found himself camped out in the bathroom after drinking laxative laced coffee."

"My dear Doctor Cameron aren't you feeling impish tonight?" he smirked.

"Within boundaries of reason, Doctor Reid," she smiled at him. "What do you need to know?"

"Let's start with everything you happen to know about that Wednesday lunch-date and we will take it from there," he smiled back.

His weekend was immensely funny despite the irritation at his friends which lead him to calling Cameron in the first place. In the end it was a good thing that he was irritated enough to call her because they hardly saw each other since 10th December considering the case load before and after Christmas and fast approaching exams at the academy.

Hanging out with Cameron was always refreshing in some sense, also intellectually challenging on many areas but the most of it, it was funny. There were times when in hers company he felt as if he had never left Cal-Tech and was still studying in between of hailing yet another prank war with a trustworthy companion. There were also times when he felt like a professor mentoring a very eager and attentive student who would one day excel in his area of expertise. There were also times when he felt like a student himself while listening to Cameron. But at the most there were times when he felt that he had an intellectual equal, someone whom he genuinely liked as whole and someone whom he knew liked him just as much.

Despite eleven years and three months age difference and messed up circumstances of their first meeting and the intellectual war which had followed their first meeting Cameron was his friend and a dear friend on that. One that understood his fear of developing schizophrenia at some point of his life, one that devoted everything to prove him otherwise, one to whom he owed his sanity and improving health.

First days of July along with two months worth of enforced vacation (standard two weeks at the end and six weeks worth of forced time off which came from late June troubles with Bureau) had found him with the return of killer migraines, ones which he knew weren't physical symptom, hallucinations that followed and the worries over his job had forced him to admit to himself the truth.

He was going crazy. Period. Sure he passed the mark where he had the highest chance for developing schizophrenia but he was already in increased risk group taking into account that his mum was paranoid schizophrenic and schizophrenia was genetically passed illness, he was a genius with intelligence quotient of 187 and schizophrenia was more like to affect highly intelligent people, he was a man and schizophrenia affected more men than women and he was a drug-addict and drug usage no matter how short-lived it was increased chances at developing schizophrenia.

With that in mind after two days worth hellish migraine after which he barely dragged himself out of the bed towards the telephone he called Psychiatric Department at Georgetown University Hospital and asked for an appointment with a psychiatrist.

6th July, ten o'clock in the morning, in the office of Doctor Cameron, room 777. He intended to show himself up there already knowing the diagnosis and trying to persuade whomever Doctor Cameron happened to be to give him anti-psychotic medication or at least to have him admitted for observation.

He didn't however expected what happened. Nor the fact that Doctor Cameron happened to be a provable genius with intelligence rivaling his own and while with not officially specified specialty on the subject of schizophrenia her expertise and knowledge was putting his own into shame.

What was supposed to be a half of hour worth appointment during which he intended to achieve his aim of persuading the doctor that he needed the medication and could possibly be an undiagnosed schizophrenic had turned into three hours worth discussion which by the end had turned into hissed match (at least from his side) and had ended with him being admitted to psychiatric ward with sings of nervous breakdown which could possibly be induced by stressful work.

For three days hour after hour they were trading arguments over him having schizophrenia back and forth, with him persuading Cameron that he was schizophrenic and Cameron persuading him that he wasn't (which was crazy by definition because it was a rarity in the history of psychiatric medicine when a patient insisted on having mental illness while his doctor was strongly convinced that the patient didn't have one at all or at least not life-affecting one).

After twenty-five hours worth, three days long discussion Cameron finally lost her patience with him and they struck a deal. He had give her two weeks to prove that he wasn't schizophrenic and that his symptoms were a sign of another illness and if she failed to give him correct, reasonable diagnosis then she would admit that yes, he was schizophrenic, thank you very much, and that she will officially diagnose him with schizophrenia.

First thing she had done after he agreed to the deal was putting him on clorazepine and keeping him on it for a week while issuing battery of medical tests on him in between of psychotherapy. Being on medication calmed him down until on Monday morning, on the eight day of the therapy Cameron sat down on his bed, pulled her hair in a ponytail and with a glare which could easily rival Hotch's 'I'm THE Alpha Male' glare she told him that paranoid he was, except he wasn't schizophrenic and that for the last seven days instead of being on anti-psychotic medication he was on placebo and in spite of not being medicated he was improving.

That statement left him speechless for few minutes until Cameron patiently explained the possible underlying cause of his headaches and hallucinations. Rare genetic disorder that while in general affecting patient's liver could manifest with neuropsychiatric symptoms and that as far as she could tell after strict observation and battery of medical tests he was showing and experiencing all of them.

The last medical test which had been done on Saturday was liver biopsy which showed steatosis, increased glycogen and cooper levels. His officially confirmed diagnosis was Wilson's disease which through the past year was very slowly developing and with neuropsychiatric symptoms it could show at any time past liver centered 6-20 years. It was a life-time condition which had only one cure which was liver transplant, unadvisable in early stage of the disease. But it was manageable with proper medication, diet and keeping oneself in shape. It also didn't prevent one from working wherever one was pleased to work and while psychiatric appointments were mandatory so were appointments with hepatologists to monitor the progress which in the early stages was painstakingly slow if the disease was diagnosed properly and it was.

When few weeks later, he asked her how she knew what she was looking for in his case she gave in and admitted that she was a Wilsonite herself, in her case the disease didn't develop yet but she had genetic tests done which showed that at some point she might develop it and with genetic tests predicting the chances for developing the disease the best course of action was delaying the chances by keeping to low-cooper diet and going to mandatory appointments with hepatologist.

That admission in the end had won her his improving respect and he found himself admitting that he genuinely liked her as a person. Liked because Cameron had something about her eyes and smile which in some weird way made her similar to Garcia, you either liked her or you avoided her like plague. Physically there wasn't anything about Cameron which attracted him to her, intellectually however after initial crash they connected and the more they talked the better they felt in each others company.

He was an only child and in the crazy, slightly dysfunctional BAU family for years he had been the youngest brother with a perchance for getting himself in trouble and even though Ashley had been in BAU for over a year she still had problems with fitting herself into the position in the family, she kept to herself and seemed to refuse the position of the youngest sister. Cameron was a different basket altogether, Cameron was definition of the younger sister to him. Funny and intelligent with whom he felt deeply connected, almost the same though slightly different way like with J.J. but with J.J. he was the younger brother, with Cameron he was older.

The intellectual connection with Cameron was a thing he found himself wanting to explore on his own, after all he was allowed to have friends outside of BAU and frankly he liked grating on Morgan's nerves with sudden seemingly secretive smile as a part of the discussion during lunch made him recall an earlier conversation with Cameron.

He had been suspected of having a girlfriend and had been subjected to an evening with Morgan, Garcia and J.J. picking on him and observing him like a trio of hawks if whatever or not he happened to be answering texts during the evening or flirting with anybody. He hadn't done either of those things which seemed to confuse them even more.

He smirked to himself when he heard familiar footsteps behind his back as he waited for the elevator. Morgan. Messing with one's mind was a double-edged sword and now that he was aware of possible reason for Reid's watch he decided that it was the highest time for let's mess with Morgan's mind.

"Pretty Boy," Morgan said cheerfully. "How was your weekend?"

"Intellectually challenging and physically draining yet still refreshing," Spencer summed up.

"How physically draining?" Morgan asked skeptically.

"Very," Spencer said and grinned, let Morgan think what he wants to think. "And informative. Did you know that there existed twelve unique ways of how to please a woman?"

He looked at Morgan, still grinning and inwardly he snickered. Seeing Morgan slightly slack-jawed was a rare sight, reducing him into this state without pointing out the most unusual statistic was even better.

"I'm not even asking," Morgan said finally when the elevator dinged and the door slid open.

"Good because I have absolutely no intention of sharing that information," Spencer quipped as he walked into the elevator and pushed sixth floor. "Not even or rather especially with you."

After that comment he started whistling quietly to Abba's When I Kissed a Teacher.

By the time Morgan gather his wit to ask a question Spencer was saved by the door sliding open and Garcia entering his vision.

"Good morning Starshine!" he quipped. "The earth says hello! I saw it at Starbucks this morning and couldn't help thinking how much it reminded me of you Garcia," he added cheerfully as he pulled a box with a muffin he really purchased at Starbucks (though he gave quite generous tip for whipped cream topping to have a smiley face).

He handed stunned Garcia the box and made it to his desk before she had a chance to react.

Ashley was already at her desk with her nose buried deep in a book.

"One for the lady, good morning Starshine," he smiled as he placed the coffee he was holding on her desk.

"Well good morning, what about yours?" Ashley asked surprised.

"I had a yummy one at home," he said simply. "Hey Hotch," he added as he spotted Hotch from the corner of his eye. "Want a cookie? Chocolate and coconut. Delicious. Ashley?" he turned back to her.

"Good weekend?" Hotch asked skeptically as he approached him.

"Uneventful but very pleasing," Spencer confirmed as he placed his messenger bag on the desk and dug in for the container with cookies. "And no, you don't have to have me drug-tested… Though after that comment you probably should, denial is after all a first sign. But I'm quite convinced that I will be clean… Though the coffee this morning tasted slightly funny… but that was probably powdered sugar I dropped into sugar container by accident three days ago. So… cookie?"

He opened the container and offered it to Hotch whose eyebrows shot into hairline.

"Thank you," Hotch said cautiously as he pulled one cookie from the container and gave it a stare.

"Ashley?" Spencer turned to her.

"Maybe later," she said cautiously.

"After Hotch ascertains that they aren't poisonous," Spencer quipped. "Don't worry they aren't though if they were I doubt that having Section Chief and Chief Unit test them would be a brilliant idea. But if they happen to be the ambulatory is on the second floor and I promise to not resist during the arrest."

"Arrest for what?" Rossi asked curiously.

"Poisoning Hotch," Spencer said simply. "Want a cookie, Rossi? We were just discussing whatever or not poisoning Section Chief and Chief Unit would be good idea. I mean I was considering the scenario and the two of them were giving me weird looks."

"Maybe later," Rossi grimaced.

"Suit yourself then," Spencer shrugged and grabbed one cookie himself. He consumed it in two bites and smirked at the other three, "Delicious."

That seemed to prompt Hotch into taking a bite of his. He bit the half and munched before he swallowed and said, "Tasty, not overly sugary, very heavy on chocolate and coconut though."

As Hotch took another bite the other two dug into the container Spencer held up for them. Then he spotted J. J. entering his vision and grinned before he said, "Cookie J.J.?"

"Homemade?" J.J. asked curiously as she approached them.

"Yup," he confirmed.

"By you?" she added.

"Very tasty though," Hotch said. "You really should try them."

"Have you ever seen Hitchcock's Psycho?" Spencer asked curiously. "Norman Bates' mother and lover die there from strychnine poisoning."

"Why are you saying this?" J. J. asked skeptically as she stared first at the cookie she was holding then at him.

"Because it's an interesting movie and because I'm in mood for pulling one over you. Besides if I was really trying to poison your lot would I be openly discussing it with you? I had my psych evaluation at the beginning of the December and I distinctly remember passing it," Spencer said simply. "Though I was recovering from quite vicious cold by then and I was slightly deaf in left ear and I might have heard wrong… On the other hand I've seen the note and I remember that it said that I passed it."

"Don't worry, Boy Wonder just had a very good weekend and is in incredibly good mood," Morgan snickered. "How old was she?"

"Thirty if you meant whiskey," Spencer said simply. "Half my age plus four if you meant the company."

With Wilson's disease drinking was out of bounds not that he drunk much or frequently. Never too much of a drinker on team's nights out he regularly ended as designed driver even though he drove just as rarely as he drunk. But lately his avoidance of liver-affecting substances captured team's eyes and slowly started being questioned and while he still avoided drinking like a plague he mentioned having a drink or two in about ten days to two weeks frequency, just to throw them off the scent.

"And company's name is?" Garcia asked curiously as she stepped from behind Morgan's back.

"Leona," Spencer said simply.

Cameron's third name was Leona and he only learned it by accident since it wasn't mentioned on any kind of paperwork other than birth certificate and they really didn't need to know her first or last name.

"Where she works?" Garcia asked curiously.

"You are asking as if I was going to tell you, Penelope," he smirked. "Not a chance. My private life is what it is, my private life. When it will start affecting my work you can worry."

"We are only worrying about you, my Baby Genius," Garcia quipped.

"I know," he nodded. "But Mum," he put heavy accent on mum, "I'm thirty-one, not eleven. I've been employed by our government for almost ten years without a month that I'm missing to a decade. I'm allowed to drink alcohol, drive a car, I'm licensed to carry a gun even if I don't shot much or often. I live on my own and I rarely come home to have dinners with you. I assure you that I can take really good care of myself and any possible partner and because I want to have a partner I'd rather test the waters myself rather than have any future Mrs Reid introduced to the family first because eventually I want to have someone to come home for. Because if you kept peeking into my private life I would eventually have to get a cat to have someone to talk to at home," he whined.

"You heard our boy, he is a big one, he can take care of himself," Morgan smiled.

"Did you two just conjointly claimed me as your son?" Spencer asked skeptically. "You know that I was joking, don't you?"

"Face it Reid, until someone really young turns up on the team you are going to be the baby," Ashley smiled at him.

"Only because I was really young when I came to work here and because you are resisting being the team's baby even if I'm older than you by twenty months and three weeks and two days. Personally I think that for the point to really sink I need to go to drug-store and purchase a pacifier for you," Spencer snorted.

"Come within twenty feet of me with one and you will see what I can do," Ashley said seriously even though she raised one eyebrow daringly and smirked immediately after saying it.

"Dad!" he whined. "Ashley is picking on me and she doesn't want a pacifier! She must be broken. Can we get another baby? The one who wouldn't object to a pacifier? Pretty please."

"If you are really good boy perhaps you will find one in an Easter egg, Spencer," Hotch sighed. "All right people, enough of fun, let's get to work."

Spencer smirked to himself as he picked another cookie, grabbed first teabag his hand found in his bag and wandered to the kitchenette to made himself a cup of tea before digging into paperwork.

Having someone messing with your mind was definitely funnier when you knew why they were messing with you and you could mess back. Besides if all of his and Cameron's assumptions were true messing with his mind would end in a matter of two weeks.

By lunchtime he had ninety percents of his paperwork done and he decided to leave the other ten percents to after lunch to have something to do in the afternoon at least then Morgan and Ashley wouldn't have to try to convince him that the cases they slipped to him just came by. Some things simply never changed and that was one of them.

Wisely, even though he knew that he picked just the right time to have a lunch with Cameron he avoided meeting with her because as soon as he entered the lobby he realized that he might be followed when Agent Robins from counter-terrorism called out Rossi's name.

Two could play this game and he had full intention of having fun out of it. As soon as he left the building he turned left and quickly hid behind the column. Rossi left the building and stopped twenty feet away from the entrance as he looked around.

To Spencer's inner mirth barely ten seconds later he heard Hotch and Morgan approaching.

"If he headed to the town for lunch he didn't have enough time to make it to the checkpoint," Rossi muttered. "And I saw him leaving the building through the lobby. He always have lunches in the town on Monday if we are in Quantico."

"Well he didn't turn himself invisible," Morgan sighed.

"No, he didn't," Hotch confirmed. "He just realized that he was being followed and decided to turn the table. Twenty bucks say that he planted himself behind a column."

"You would win them if you said the left one," Spencer quipped as he peeked from behind his hiding spot. "Planning to join me or planning to drag me upstairs?"

"The former," Rossi said with small smile. "We realized that you are a big boy now and the four of us need to have man-to-man talk."

"Am I in trouble?" Spencer asked curiously.

"Do you know something we don't?" Hotch asked.

"Hotch, I know that you are Section and Unit Chief but with me in the equation this question is pretty dumb seeing that I'm a provable genius," Spencer said sheepishly. "But then again there are areas where the three of you can kick my butt severely," he added with small smile.

"Like shooting," Morgan quipped.

"Excuse me I passed my last marksmanship evaluation without retesting," Spencer huffed in mocked offence.

"Barely and by two points," Morgan snickered.

"Don't mock him Morgan," Hotch said lightly. "Reid has adrenaline driven aim."

"A sheet of paper can only kill me if it gives me a paper-cut which would have to get infected and I would have to be completely distracted for a long period of time to miss it before infection would turn to sepsis which could eventually kill me. As it is my chances for dying because of a sheet of paper are exceedingly slim," Spencer said simply. "But thanks for the advice, I'm definitely going to think about potentially lethal infections next time I would be tested for marksmanship. Maybe I can out-shot you then."

"So are we walking or driving?" Rossi asked.

"I was heading to Alberto's," Spencer shrugged. "And it's not very cold actually and coming from me it's saying something."

"Then a walk it is, actually it can help with appetite," Hotch said.

The walk to Alberto wasn't very long and the talk during it was regular teasing which sometimes happened when the four of them, though rarely, happened to go out together during office hours. This time the teasing was marksmanship oriented and ended with Spencer after over six years caving in and admitting that he wasn't aiming at Dowd's leg but his forehead and taking pleasure from reminding Hotch of one time when Hotch offered to tutor him before marksmanship evaluation on April Fool's Day and had ended with dislocated finger. Hotch quickly countered that jibe by saying that when sheets of paper were concerned Spencer had a tendency of aiming for the groin of the attacker. Spencer's answer to that jibe was that groin happened to have more nerve-endings than stomach and any man shot in that area would simply cave over and howl in pain on the ground so after all a shot in the groin was worth something.

"Hogan's Alley," Rossi quipped. "Your first year in BAU, Aaron. Paintball battle between BAU and White Collar from Washington. Gestein barely passed marksmanship evaluation and during whole afternoon had shot all but one agent. Guess who and where?" he turned to Spencer and Morgan.

"Bob Gestein?" Spencer asked curiously.

"Yep," Rossi confirmed. "Why you are asking?"

"Because that would explain a lot," Spencer said simply when Morgan howled with laughter and Hotch glared at him. Then upon Rossi's curious expression he added, "During my first month at BAU Gideon had taken the team to Hogan's Alley for team-bonding and we had a match with counter-terrorism. During the flag battle I managed to shot only one agent, it was Bob Gestein and accidentally I hit him in the groin. Hotch was standing next to me and suddenly he had an attack of a laughter so hysterical that he was shot himself by Gestein's partner, Horsey was his name if I remember correctly."

"Boy Wonder is selling himself short Rossi," Morgan quipped. "He might have hit only one man in the battle but in inter-team battle, three on three he was the last man standing, with Hotch and Gideon being out-shot."

"Who was the runner up?" Rossi asked curiously.

"Morgan," Hotch and Spencer coughed in unison.

"Because that little vermin was hiding behind the dryers in the Laundromat," Morgan protested. "I knew that I had a chance to shot him if only he peeked his big head out of his hiding spot. He barely passed marksmanship remedial. Shitter shooter knew no man, I tell you."

"You are one sore loser, Morgan," Spencer snickered.

"Shut it, Pretty Boy, I'm telling that story," Morgan chuckled. "So what our genius rookie does, he takes off a sneaker and aims it at the farthest corner from himself. I turn up to see what it was and that little pest shoot me straight to the chest when I was turning back around to face him."

"Hudson and Watson had pretty stupid expressions when you left the Laundromat with a new 'wound'," Spencer supplied. "And I wasn't a pest."

"You were," Morgan snickered. "Your first two months in BAU I wanted to wring your neck, once I had to lock Watson in supply closet because he was actually about to do it."

"What changed?" Rossi asked curiously.

"Unsub on a psychotic break, about twice in size of Morgan and just as strong as him. It was a simple, regular interview seemingly nothing to worry and the third time I have been out during a case without Hotch or Gideon as the company. Before I knew what happened the man has Morgan's gun pressed to his forehead," Spencer said pensively.

"And Rossi, trust me that when we were negotiating on Hogan's Alley Watson didn't allow Reid to say a single word during negotiation. I practically saw myself in the coffin when I realized how slim were my chances for survival," Morgan sighed.

"You are the one to talk," Spencer quipped. "You are here now, aren't you?"

"Because of your unique ability to negotiate with mentally unstable unsubs. Face it Pretty Boy, you are team's resident psychiatrist without actual diploma," Morgan quipped.

"Happens when by the age of ten you have to negotiate with your mother who wants to kill neighbor's dog because she was convinced that it was Satan in disguise who wants to strangle me in my sleep," Spencer sighed and upon a very concerned look on the faces of other three he added quickly, "Side-effect of wrongly adjusted medication. She never tried it later. Simply kept to her lectures or writing. The fact that the neighbors had moved away few weeks later also helped a lot."

"What happened to the other two?" Rossi changed the subject though it was just unlucky like discussing Spencer mum's episodes.

"Adrian Bale. Bombing in Boston," Hotch said quietly. "We would have lost Morgan and Reid too if they didn't get themselves stuck in the traffic."

"Only because I let him pilot me through 'this is the shortest way to get there I swear, it will save us a lot of time'," Morgan sighed. "Saved our lives in the end. Trip to Boston never ended well for us," he added quietly. "Perhaps this town is jinxed."

"If we will think about Boston this way it would be," Spencer grimaced. "Time for positive thinking. Boston is a very interesting town on its own filled with wonderful people, good food and happens to be a magnet for crazy unsubs…"

"Your positive thinking turned into reverse psychology Boy Wonder," Morgan grimaced.

"Maybe that would work," Spencer muttered. "It's a horrible place and I don't want to step a foot within a mile of it for the rest of my life. Field office in there is hopeless, has bad coffee and is staffed by bureaucrats who are lucky when they catch a cold, let alone an unsub. Now, that was better?"

"I don't know if I should suspend you without pay for a week for insulting the bureau or buy you a coffee for unique optimism and quick thinking," Hotch sighed.

"I'll take the coffee if you don't mind," Spencer said quickly. "Last time I ended at home for a week I ended practically clawing the paint off the walls from the boredom."

"You could always use it as vacation time," Morgan pointed out. "Go to the mountains, learn how to ski or snowboard."

"With my luck I would end with broken leg on the first day, surgery and three months worth recovery period. I'd rather get a cold, less complicated and easier to cure," Spencer quipped.

That particular discussion had ended when the plates arrived. For five minutes they were occupied with digging into their lasagna which at Alberto's was the best in whole Quantico.

As he ate Spencer pondered upon THE talk that seemed to be approaching as fast as the food from their plates was indicated. It was almost ironic that they agreed to go with him to Alberto's to have this particular discussion.

After satisfying the first hunger and settling themselves to pick on remains of lunch lazily the other three had exchanged glances before their gazes had settled on Spencer.

"So this is THE talk," Spencer said simply as he pushed his plate away for an inch and reached for his citrine tea. "Am I in deep trouble?"

"Not really," Hotch said simply. "Unless there is really something we should know." Hotch paused, took a sip of his tea and asked bluntly, "How would you feel if BAU was to hire a genius?"

"Depends," Spencer shrugged and he scratched his chin. "Mostly from your answer to my question. Am I being replaced or reinforced? Because if it's the former I would sulk and I wouldn't make their lives easier. If it's the other I would be cautiously optimistic that we would manage to get along and I promise that I wouldn't make it worse for them than it already is. I mean a new agent in BAU… it's never exactly easy. So which one is it?"

"Reinforcement part," Hotch said.

"Then I'm good," Spencer nodded. "However I can practically smell that there is more into this talk than hiring a genius. You three were pretty fixated on watching my back when it was turned lately."

"You…" Morgan started.

"Yes, I picked it. Didn't really pay too much attention to it for as long as we were on the case but after… well you are profilers but so am I. SSA on that but so are you. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that one is under strict supervision, it however takes a genius to figure out the reason," Spencer said simply.

"You know the reason?" Rossi asked skeptically. "How come?"

"I think I do," Spencer nodded. "Should I amuse you?"

"Go ahead," Morgan nodded.

"Kate Jane Cameron. Doctor of psychiatric medicine and psychology, along with PhD from geography and BA from mathematics. Born 01:09, 9th January 1992 to Cynthia Jane and Jack Christopher Cameron, retired high school chemistry teacher and Chief of Organized Crimes Unit in FBI field office in Chicago. She turned twenty a week ago and in two weeks is supposed to graduate from the academy. The allure of experienced psychiatrist and psychologist along with intelligence quotient of 183, echoic memory and fluent knowledge of ten languages is what prompts you to ask whatever or not I would be ready to be Doctor Cameron's probationary agent. You were considering me because Rossi has Ashley under his wings, Morgan is too impatient to train a complete rookie and you are too busy," Spencer said on one breath.

Hotch's, Morgan's and Rossi's slightly dropped jaws were enough of an answer and it prompted to freak them out even more. They really deserved it for the torture of the last few weeks.

"There is more to that," he added quickly. "You discussed the issue for a long time and you know that you are against Willcox from Washington's CACU. On Wednesday, 11th during lunch, 1 PM on that, the three of you had meet Jericho who happens to be Doctor Cameron's training agent to discuss the issue of her posting in BAU. You meet here, Jericho had spaghetti Bolognese drunk coffee, two sugars, no milk. You," he nodded at Hotch, "had spinach lasagna and green tea. You," he nodded at Morgan, "took Cesar salad with baked potatoes and tomato juice. You," he nodded at Rossi, "had chosen ravioli and plain black tea, no sugar and no citrine. Hotch paid from the official card, together it cost you thirty-seven dollars and fifty-nine cents because you were given a discount. Jericho left at 01:37 PM, you discussed something for next seven minutes and left together at 01:45 PM. That would be it."

He smirked at them.

"Reid you are a genius," Morgan said slowly.

"Provable one, thank you," Spencer nodded and grinned.

"You are a genius but you are not almighty and omniscient," Morgan clarified. "On Wednesday you were in Norfolk interviewing a serial rapist and you didn't come back to Quantico until 02:10 PM because when I called you at 2 you were still on the train."

"That's right," Spencer confirmed.

"Then how can you tell us exactly what we are planning and what we were doing on a day you were away from the office?" Rossi asked simply.

"And how did you know whom we were discussing?" Hotch asked curiously.

"It's quite simple you know," Spencer shrugged. "I know for a fact that the three of you had lectures at the academy this semester. You wouldn't entertain the idea of hiring a rookie if aforementioned rookie didn't excel at something and hadn't manage to capture the attention not only of one but three of you. I didn't have lectures scheduled for this semester because if you three are giving lectures during the semester I never do. Without doubt you talked with Doctor Cameron, testing the waters, trying to learn something which would help you make a decision. However there is one question you either didn't ask or didn't get an answer for and as it is I know that it was the former. The question you didn't ask is who advised Doctor Cameron to try out to the academy when she did."

"And what we would receive for an answer?" Morgan stared at him.

"I believe that one way or another it would be something along of SSA Dr Spencer Reid or that crazy psycho who was trying to scare away copulating cats by throwing balloons filled with tomato juice at those poor, innocent animals. It would depend from when you asked," Spencer shrugged.

"What's her third name?" Morgan narrowed his eyes as he looked at Spencer more closely.

"Leona," Spencer quipped.

"Twelve unique ways of how to please a woman," Morgan muttered.

"Half my age plus four," Rossi added pensively.

"Reid…" Hotch started.

"Twelve unique ways of how to please a woman. Allow me to recite," Spencer said quickly. "One: go shopping with her for boots because she stepped on a nail and destroyed her old boots in the middle of the winter on a snowy day. Two: pay for the boots when she had her back turned and happens to be eyeing a wallet, pay for the wallet too and say that it looks nice and practical. Three: apologize for not having birthday present for her and promise to make it up to her before the day is out. Four: pick a chocolate perfume as a present at the perfumery because you know that she would love it as she cannot eat chocolate but she loves the smell. Five: invite her to the cinema and pay for everything she picks up, steal her wallet if you must. Six: let her chose the movie. Seven: upon leaving the cinema if bothered by stinking drunk who thinks that she is a very pretty hooker, draw yourself to your full height and send a murderous glare at the offender while saying that 'this lady can have you institutionalized in top security psychiatric hospital in a matter of an hour and I'm licensed to carry a gun and I won't hesitate to use it if you don't remove yourself from our company in ten seconds flat'. Eight: admit that you never watched Pride and Prejudice even if you did and offer to pick it up from the video-store. Nine: cook her a dinner, use a recipe you recently picked up and under no circumstance let her clean after dinner. Ten: watch Pride and Prejudice with interest. Eleven: when you realize that it's very late offer her to spend the night and insist that she takes a bed while you will take the couch, threaten to handcuff her to the bed if you must. Twelve: wake up before her and pick up breakfast from her favorite café even if it's really out of the way and say that it wasn't even if she knows that you know that she knows that it was. There is also thirteenth: remember that a genius doesn't get mad but simply even and because she is a genius and happens to be your friend let her partake in painstaking, mind-messing revenge you are going to bestow on your colleagues on Monday morning for questioning your sanity for thirty-three days. Poisoning was her idea, cookies also were hers."

"Reid…" Hotch sighed.

"If she was a blonde and more filled out in all the right places I wouldn't hesitate to continuously ask her out, repeatedly, maybe even marry if I was lucky. As it is I find her company intellectually challenging, greatly informative, refreshing and at times incredibly funny. I value both her professional and personal opinion and I admire her stubbornness and dedication to her patients, I know that she would be just as much if not even more stubborn and dedicated in the field. I know that I can trust her to have my back because I could trust in her when I couldn't trust myself, she hadn't failed it, hadn't failed me. She saved my sanity and my health and in some extension my life, making sure that she will make it through the probation period alive, unharmed and experienced as an agent is a small compensation for what she had done for me."

"What she had done for you?" Hotch asked pointedly.

"You remember that the team was enforced on six weeks worth leave during the summer," Spencer sighed. "You also remember that I used to have incredibly painful and annoying migraines. When we were forced to leave… It was everything all at once. Stress over what happened, over what is going to happen, my declining health, shitty diet, too much time on my hands, recurring nightmares… Migraines returned with full force but this time they were accompanied by hallucinations, audio and visual. I realized that this was it… End of story, what I always worried for was happening and that was it. So as soon as a migraine lessened I dragged myself to the telephone and made quick appointment with a psychiatrist at Georgetown University Hospital. I was hoping for an old man, used to routine, one hoping for retirement and easy to manipulate to admit to the diagnosis I already knew. What I didn't expect was to butt my head with nineteen years old provable genius whose intelligence rivals mine and knowledge about schizophrenia and cluster A in general can put mine into shame and I happen to have quite extensive knowledge when it comes to schizophrenia and cluster A thank you very much. Let's say that half of an hour appointment had ended with three hours worth hissing match, mostly from my side, and me being admitted as a patient suffering from major depressive episode. We continued the cycle of I'm a paranoid schizophrenic just write the diagnosis in the file you infernal woman and paranoid you are but hardly a schizophrenic for three days before we struck a deal. She will keep me on observation for two weeks and in the meantime she would prove that I'm not a paranoid schizophrenic, if she would fail to find reasonable, medically proved explanation for what was wrong with me then she would cave in and confirm my diagnosis. Guess who won seeing that I'm here and not in a sanitarium."

"What was wrong?" Morgan asked in concern.

"Is, not was," Spencer corrected him simply. "Bad genes and crappy liver. Wilson's disease. Manageable with proper diet and Galzin, continued monitoring of cooper levels and Penicelamine if it happens to go too high. Mandatory checkups with hepatologist and psychiatrist aware of my condition, the later generally as a precaution seeing that in my case Wilson's disease and too high cooper level manifests with neuropsychiatric symptoms like migraines, hallucinations and hand tremors. My hepatologist says that unless I'm planning to take a stray bullet in there my liver would last me at least a decade without me worrying over a transplant which in so far happens to be the only cure for Wilson's disease. And last time I checked and I checked recently Wilson's disease doesn't exclude an agent from the field, the information about my state is listed in my personal files."

"And doctor Cameron would confirm that story if I asked her?" Hotch asked pensively.

"Word for word," Spencer nodded. "Most probably would also throw something about doctors making world's worst patients, self-diagnosis of mental illnesses by people without medical degree and something about my disability to outsmart certified psychiatrist…" he looked at Morgan who had a very confused expression on his face. "Beauty of befriending highly intelligent woman, you trade off compliments just as much as insults though the later aren't traded often and tend to stick to endearing and intellectual side."

"For example?" Morgan asked skeptically.

"For example the newest from Saturday morning and it was a loaded one," Spencer said simply. "Reid, I know that as an analytical mind and triple doctor in scientific fields you cannot resist to test the force of gravitation in nature but could you for the moment stop to consider few outcomes that will eventually follow if you won't try to resist the allure of the force of gravitation successfully? For starters your continuous lost battles will end with severe bruising of your gluteus maximus which come Monday will possibly end with your friends questioning your sexuality and current relationship status. Denial and finding excuses never works, in fact only improves people's desire to prove the denying one wrong. Additionally because of their undeveloped muscles and lack of strength toddlers are greatly prone to falls and losing their balance. Please, prove to me that a thirty-one years old man won't be beat by a thirty months old toddler when it comes to defying the force of gravity on a patch of frozen water in the park. Most people would simply told me to get up and try to maintain balance without making a spectacle of myself. Cameron doesn't make into the range of most people. She can compliment, insult and step on ones ambition in one breath."

"Well it was greatly intellectual," Morgan chuckled.

"And it worked," Spencer snickered. "Well, I almost fell down once afterwards but in so far I'm sticking to the version that this pirouette and arm flapping was fully intended and happened to be a part of a ballet on ice I once saw but for the life of me I cannot remember the title."

"You picked up skiving?" Hotch snickered.

"Learning how to skive Hotch, learning how to skive," Spencer snickered harder. "In so far we managed to cover first two lessons. Up and down and any forward motion without falling into other people counts. Next weekend we are going to work on turning right and left without casualties in other skivers. Hopefully by the end of the winter I will graduate to the level of can be left alone on his own devices for longer than sixty seconds."

"Not before you will learn that for breaking you have skiving boots not snow and other people," Cameron said sweetly as she appeared next to him. "Your report on most common gunshot wounds, I'm not sure if I didn't mix Glock 17 with a Sig Sauer 280 but either way I'm not going to worry because that would be probably my only mistake on theoretical Marksmanship. Hello, Agents Rossi, Hotchner and Morgan, I'm sorry for interrupting but I really needed to return it."

"Going somewhere?" Spencer asked curiously.

"To the hospital," Cameron nodded. "Dorothy Weinstein just had a setback. She is impossibly strong. She decked two orderlies, bit to the blood and bone one nurse and kicked one doctor in the groin. The hospital called me just five minutes ago. I told them to leave her in peace in her room until I will show up and only to observe her."

"Don't you have Theoretical Criminal Statistics like right now?" Spencer asked skeptically.

"I did," Cameron said simply. "Straight A, I have an echoic memory and Statistic was talk oriented not to mention someone tried to distract me on Saturday by quoting statistics every time he attempted to make a fall. Whatever works for you."

"Cookies do," Spencer smirked. "They vanished during the coffee break when I had my back turned away from the desk."

"You profiled the unsub?" Cameron asked curiously.

"I did," Spencer confirmed. "The profile was accurate, it's the man force that prevents me from taking action as I find myself woefully outnumbered."

"You could always ask for reinforcement," Cameron pointed out.

"I'd rather ask for more cookies," Spencer snickered.

"I can go with cherry-vanilla theme in the evening if you will spend a hour over the phone quizzing me on Criminal Law. I'm a multi-tasker but I'm unable to clone myself," Cameron pointed out.

"If you will go with cherry-vanilla and coconut-coffee I will personally drag myself to your place to quiz you," Spencer offered.

"To stake a claim on coconut-coffee," Cameron smirked. "You know that I have edible markers to sign them, don't you?"

"I do, citrine one is very tasty," Spencer nodded. "I'm merely studying growing list of death-treats issued on my person if I happen to come too close to the bowl with cookie dough."

"That or trying to test how many death-threats from me it takes you to get a whack across the head with a spatula," Cameron rolled her eyes. "If my memory serves me well fingers above the bowl warrants a swat with a dishcloth and immediate expulsion from the kitchen area."

"I will wash the dishes," Spencer offered.

"Nuh-hu, you and cookie dough should be kept at least six feet apart for safety reasons," Cameron said pointedly. "Otherwise it mysteriously disappears in alarming speed."

"Fine, I will stick around the stationary phone," Spencer sighed and for better effect pouted.

"I know a person who has a doctorate at pouty lip and kicked puppy eyes, you aren't them and it doesn't work on me," Cameron told him simply. "But you will get additional cookie for trying. Have a good day, gentlemen," she nodded at Hotch, Morgan and Rossi.

With that comment she turned on her heel and left.

"You know that the initial purpose of being probationary agent is keeping the rookie in line not the other way around, don't you?" Hotch asked curiously.

"Me being kept in line is purely excluded to Cameron's cookies and generally her kitchen," Spencer said simply. "And people living in glass-houses shouldn't cast stones Hotch, you were trying to get away from my desk way too fast."

"They were good cookies," Hotch said simply prompting small grin from Morgan and Rossi. "On an office day between Garcia and Cameron …"

"Within a month the unit would have to go on a diet," Rossi finished. "But it would be definitely worth it. But the mention of the hospital has me slightly worried."

"For no reason," Spencer shook his head. "Dorothy Weinstein is a paranoid schizophrenic on the move from DC to Oregon, her son wants to keep her closer to his home so now that his children are old enough to understand their grandmother's illness at least enough to realize when she is suffering from an episode… Because of Dorothy's size and strength and initial illness her doctors had agreed to prepare her for the move. She had been consulted by three of them but one died, one already flew to Oregon and Cameron is the only familiar doctor to her, just enough to convince her to calm down, at least enough to the state in which she could be given Haldol for the transport. If I remember correctly she was scheduled to be moved this afternoon."

"She appeared to be strangely relaxed about it," Morgan said pointedly.

"A matter of approach, I bet that orderlies and the nurse went straight for force, most probably so did the other doctor. Cameron is not one for physical force, intellectual beating of the opponent point by point sure, but physical force is not her forte, neither is mine," Spencer said simply. "I'm not worried for her and if she is still on the hiring list after our lengthy conversation neither should you. She will be fine."