Hello all!

I'm sure a few of you are surprised to an update to this story. It's not a new chapter nor is it an announcement for a sequel, I'm sorry to say.

But! It's not all doom and gloom.

See, I noticed a while ago that made it impossible to copy and paste fanfictions (understandable; makes it a lot harder for plagiarism). At least, I can't copy or paste anything, so I'm assuming it's a site-wide thing.

Anyway, I just wanted you guys to know a few things:

If you would like a pdf version of the story, please go over to my A03 account. I have the same username and the story is titled the same. I think you need to have an account to access the download feature.

If you'd like to have another story turned into a pdf, please let me know!

Some things you should know:


I'm serious. I've gone through it all and cleaned it up. It's nothing major; just typos, questionable sentence structures, and so forth. Is it a 100% perfect? Pff, no. But it's better than what it was. This story is still unbeta'd because I think it's silly to ask someone to do that after it's been completed for like, 2 or 3 years. The only thing I didn't edit was the author notes.


No. Sorry to disappoint those who were hoping. I have nothing against sequels but I have no ideas and I'd rather not start something half-heartedly.


No joke! I've given the following users permission to translate Dumb and Ditzy: Gizmolog (Polish on the forum Gospoda) echoedsongever (Chinese on a Chinese forum that I no longer remember the name to, sorry!) and BleuAzure (French on here, they are unable continue and the translation has been taken over by malohkeh ).

Anyway, these people have my permission so if you want to read it in Polish, Chinese or French, go for it!

I'm still not over the fact that people like this silly story enough to translate it.

Nor am I over the fact that over 1000 people have it on their favorites list. Kinda makes me scratch my head to be honest. I'm not sure why so many of you like it but I get a little giddy knowing I've made people laugh and smile.

Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. If anyone has any questions regarding the pdf, pm me or review (signed in, so I can get ahold of you).

Oh, and one last thing. I know how disappointing it can be to open up what you think is a new chapter only to find out it's an author's note. . . .

. . .so here's one last scene.

Scene 5- He Blinded Me with Stupidity

Elisa Ortega loved her job. There was nothing quite like waking up in the morning knowing that in a few hours, some criminal would be sobbing out confessions they swore they would never say. Of course there are guidelines and rules that one must follow. After all, as much as Elisa would like to punch the living daylights out of every suspect, as much as she would like to use some 'questionable' techniques to make them talk, she's a woman of honor and she follows the rules to the letter.

Today though, today dishonorable means were looking rather nice.

The suspect she and a few other agents were watching from behind a two-way mirror was a pasty skinned man that looked more like a rat than a human. He was in the interrogation room alone, nervously shaking his leg and twiddling his fingers.

By his behavior he should have been an easy nut to crack but no. Nothing her or her co-workers did worked.

"I can't believe this guy is being so difficult." One of them commented, exasperated. Elisa couldn't blame them; they'd had been at this for hours.

Another agent gave a grunt of agreement as he cracked his neck and then his knuckles. Elisa gritted her teeth at the sound. It was a pet peeve of hers, knuckle cracking. It annoyed her so much; it made her want to scream-

The thought made her blink.


Against her will, she thought back to a certain class at a certain school where a certain someone caused unending terror for a full hour until the teacher released them early.

She looked at the suspect again. Did he really deserve to have that happen to him?

Then she remembered that not only had the suspect spat on her while calling her a racial slur, he was also the reason she was missing her favorite TV show.

She laughed a little, gaining her co-workers attention and both shuddered at the look on her face.

"I think," She told them with a blood thirsty grin. "I think I know who can get this guy to talk."

Spencer Reid loved his job. That being said, he also loved it when he got days off, though they were few and far in between. Today was one of those miracle days where he didn't have to go in and he relished in the feeling.

Then his cellphone started ringing.

"Reid." He answered, not even looking at who called. He was used to it being someone from his team, so he blinked at the voice that came through the speaker.

"Hey Reid. It's Elisa."

"Hi." He greeted a little awkwardly, wondering why she was calling him. He kept in touch with her and John but they never called each other.

"Listen, I have a favor to ask of you," She started out and he heard the anger in her voice. "We have a guy in here now-"

"Here as in the Interrogation Unit." He interrupted her for clarification.

"No, in my basement where I have a secret fight club! Yes the Interrogation Unit!" She snapped at him.

"Sorry." He mumbled, wincing at her tone.

"Anyway, as I was saying, we have a guy in right now who's not talking. We've tried everything within legal means. So now I'm resorting to slightly not-so-legal-means and asking if you'd lend a hand."

"Uh, Elisa, not that I don't want to help but I don't think I have clearance to help." He told her nervously. "I could get into a lot of trouble if I stick my nose into a case I'm not assigned to."

"I figured you'd say something like that," She snorted. "I've already talked to my boss and you're in the clear if you want to help out." She assured him and he let out a sigh of relief.

"I don't mind helping out." He told her with a smile. A smile that turned a shade mischievous. "Wow, I never thought the day would come that-"

"Shut up!" She barked through the phone, already knowing his train of thought.

"-the Great Elisa Ortega, Queen of Interrogations would be asking me for a favor." He ended somewhat smugly.

"I can still whoop your ass in hand-to-hand combat so I don't think you should be gloating." She growled and he did his best to stop chuckling.

"I'll be there in half an hour." Was the last thing he told her before hanging up. Sighing, he looked mournfully at his books before going to get ready. As he was putting on some pants that he rarely wore, his face lit up in another impish grin.

Elisa may have known about his technique but she had never seen it out in full force.

Nat Marty was undeniably nervous. His nightly routine had been going as it usually did: scuttle around the streets watching for potentials, talking on the phone to keep the right people happy, checking in on the brothels and check points and so on. It had been a good night right up until he decided to buy some heroin off a new dealer that everyone was raving about.

Two days later, here he was in a cold room waiting for someone to come in and speak with him. Again.

He had been arrested for drug related purposes but somehow the FBI had his name on a list and he was transported from the police station to a much more secure place. He knew immediately what they were going to question him about; what he didn't know was how they got his name. Nat glared at the table. Someone had squealed and if he got out of here, he was going to find them and wring their neck.

It was probably that Johnny guy that disappeared a few weeks back. Never trust a guy named Johnny, they can never keep their mouths shut.

But Nat could and he would because no matter how frightening some of the agents that had talked to him had been- especially that Latino chick, she was the stuff from nightmares- nothing was more terrifying than what his bosses would do to him if he talked.

After what felt like days with only the ticking of the clock and his own breathing for company, the door finally opened again. Nat looked up, expecting another guy in a suit only to find himself staring, stupefied.

Because the person that walked in looked like they should have been at a photoshoot, not in an interrogation room.

The young man was tall and had a nice pale complexion. His smooth skin contrasted nicely with the olive green shirt that had a few of the top buttons undone, allowing the world to catch small glimpses of his collar bone. He wore a deep purple scarf that molded well to his upper frame and tempted the viewer to gaze lower. His long legs were being hugged by glorious dark denim jeans that seemed painted on. Some brown leather boots matched the color of his chocolate tousled hair. His face was a masterpiece in and of itself with two brown eyes, long dark lashes and pale pink lips that were stretched into a smile.

If only Nat had met this man on the street. The bosses would have loved this guy.

"Hi!" The man chirped cheerfully as he sat down across from Nat. "I'm Spencer Reid. It's a pleasure to meet you. . .?" He trailed off and gave Nat a questioning look.

"Nat." Was all he said, knowing the feds already had his name.

"Awe, that's a cute name. I'm going to call you Natty." Spencer declared boldly as he opened up a file in front of him. "Let's see here, they gave me this information about you so we could have something to break the ice. Isn't it nice when people are considerate?" Spence asked him with a sunny smile.

"Uh, yeah. I guess." Nat stuttered out, bewildered at the turn of events. This guy didn't sound or look like an interrogator. What was going on here? Was this a prank?

"So it says here you've had your hand in human trafficking." Spencer hummed as he read the file and Nat felt his blood run cold. He knew he had been on the law's radar but he didn't know for sure they had connected him to that until now.

Damn Johnny.

"So tell me, are you the reason I'm always getting stuck at red lights?" Spencer asked him, looking very serious.

". . . what?" Nat asked, confused. That was not the question he was expecting- it didn't even make any sense.

"Are you the reason I'm always getting stuck at red lights?" Spencer repeated, expression never changing.

"No? I don't understand your question." Nat told him and Spencer let out a little huff of air.

"Don't try to deny it, mister! It has to be you!"

"What? I don't have the power to change the traffic lights!"

"A likely story! We all know you're a human trafficker, who else would it be?!" Spencer asked dramatically, slamming his hands on the table.

"What does being a human trafficker have to do with this?" Nat asked desperately.

"Everyone knows human traffickers are the people hiding inside poles and changing the lights, duh." Spencer told him.

"What?" Nat heard himself ask after a moment of silence.

"Human traffickers are-"

"No. Stop. You think there are people in the traffic poles?" Nat asked the other incredulously.

"Well yeah. How else are the lights going to change color if someone doesn't turn the switch?"

"That's stupid. No one can fit inside those poles, you dumbass!" Nat snapped at him in an irritated voice.

"Oh yeah? Then how else would they know people wanted to cross the street when the button gets pushed, huh?" The other questioned.

"It's a machine! It has a sensor, that's how." Nat tried to explain but Spencer wouldn't listen.

"Oh Natty, that's the silliest thing I've heard all day. Machines with sensors." Spencer ended in a little laugh. "It's human traffickers- everyone knows. You don't have to hide what you are."

"I don't hide in traffic poles!" Nat screamed, losing his composure. The amount of stupidity this guy had was astounding. "I find lonely people and force them into the underground sex industry! That's what a human trafficker does! That's what I do!" He yelled.

"Oh? So you don't live in a traffic pole?" Spencer asked, sounding disappointed.

"For the last time, I have nothing to do the traffic lights!"

"But then, how does your job work?" Spencer questioned him and Nat was too riled up to realize the grave error he was about to make.

"It's simple; I watch out for potential candidates on the streets. When I find someone, I send of picture of them to my bosses. If they like 'em, I follow 'em, drug 'em and send 'em to one of the bosses brothels."

"How silly, we don't have brothels here- they're illegal." Spencer tittered and Nat was surprised the man knew what a brothel was.

"Shows what you know." Nat said smugly, lording his intelligence over the beautiful man. "There's five in this area alone, right under the feds nose."

"I don't believe you." Spencer sang out.

"Why not?"

"I told you, they're illegal. The police would have shut them down if they saw them."

"Wait," Nat furrowed his brow. "Do you think they'd just be out in the open for anyone to see and walk in to?"

"Uh, yeah? How else are people supposed to know about them if they don't have their name somewhere?"

"You idiot!" Nat snapped. "Brothels are secret places that you have to find."

The other perked up in his chair.

"Like a treasure hunt?!" Spencer asked with sparkles in his eyes.

"I-yeah sure, like a treasure hunt." Nat told him tiredly.

"I wanna go! Can you take me?" Nat took in the man again. He was a beauty but he was dumber than a headless chicken. Still, he'd make a lovely prostitute and the regulars would break him of his chattering.

"Sure but in return, you'll have to work at one. I'll even let you pick." He told the other slyly.

"Ok!" Spencer chirped. "Where are they?"

"There's one on 17th street that looks like a laundromat. It's called Soapy's, you've probably seen it. There's another on Lincoln that's disguised as a Chinese joint called Lee's Take Out and two blocks down is one called Jessica's Boutique. On Washington the brothel is a place called Darla's Photography and on Broadway, the last one is pet supply shop called Pugs 'N Kittens."

"Hmm but I've been to Soapy's and Lee's and I've never seen a brothel at either one. I think you're lying to me, Natty. You do live in a traffic light pole; you're just trying to confuse me!" Spencer accused him and Nat smacked his head against the table.

"No, I'm not! The brothels are in the basements or backrooms, stupid! If they were out front, they wouldn't be secret places!" Nat yelled, trying to keep frustrated tears at bay.

". . .in the basements?" Spencer asked quietly.


"Ew. Basements are gross!" Spencer stuck out his tongue. "They're moldy and they smell strange. I don't wanna work in a basement, no thanks!" Spencer said as he stood up and began walking toward the door.

"But you promised! C'mon, it's way better than whatever your current job is!" Nat yelled out desperately. He felt hope spring in his chest as Spencer stopped inches from the door. Turning around, the young man gave Nat a funny look.

"Being forced into prostitution is in no way better than my current job." He told Nat softly and the man frowned at the complete change of demeanor.

"Well, what do you do?" He asked, feeling like he was missing something obvious but incredibly important.

Spencer smiled at him and it held a tinge of evil.

"I profile criminals. On the side I moonlight as an interrogator." Spencer told him, brown eyes sparking with laughter as he left.

As the door clicked shut, the puzzle in Nat's head fell into place.

He's forgotten he was in an interrogation room; he had forgotten he was being questioned. Spencer had infuriated and confused Nat with his stupidity to the point that Nat had forgotten where he was! He had been duped!

He slammed his head against the table again, hoping to knock himself out.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Elisa looked at Spencer in disbelief.

"I thought your technique couldn't get any worse and then you came in here dressed like that." She said, shaking her head, still not quite believing what she had just witnessed. "If I didn't know that guy was involved in human trafficking, I'd feel bad for him." She ended, glancing through the mirror at the suspect who was repeatedly smacking his head against the table.

"Well, it wasn't like I could wear anything but the Academy uniform so I never had the chance to show you the technique in full." Reid admitted, handing the file back to her before following her gaze. "I can't believe he told me all that. You made it sound like he'd be a hard one to get talking."

"He was." She glared at him. "He was until you showed up. I wonder why you weren't assigned to this Unit. Your technique is flawless." Elisa admitted somewhat grudgingly.

"Apparently the agent that taught the interrogation course told the higher ups I would be too powerful and break the other agents here." Spencer told her with a careless shrug. "Um, are they ok?" He asked her when he noticed two agents staring at him.

Looking at her co-workers, both who were giving Reid blank looks of disbelief, Elisa sighed. "They're fine. But yeah, maybe having you here would be hazardous to our mental health. Stay in the BAU."

"Gladly." He told her with a smile.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Nat Marty= Ratty Man (I wanted it to be Rat Man but there weren't enough letters. Oh well.)