KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE. Statistics show you are more likely to be murdered, assaulted, or abducted by someone you trust as opposed to a stranger. Someone you've worked with and known for years could secretly be a serial murderer— with you on the top of their list.

Unfortunately that became a reality for Cheif Goss.

We don't think he even saw it coming. The younger and stronger man forcing him to the ground using the element of surprise. He had to watch someone who he believed to be an ally standing over him, pressing his shoe against his windpipe.

Joshua Boklen had help from the Goss, escaping the interrogation room when the others weren't looking and sneaking out the back. The Chief wasn't trying to be nice, he was trying to save himself from being labeled as the boss of a serial killer. He was trying to protect his reputation.

He had stood by Officer Boklen and even helped him escape. But that wasn't enough.

I don't think anything would have been enough. Joshua Boklen had just been waiting for an opportunity, he had always been planing on murdering the Chief of Police. He had been planning it for a long time. But taking the breath from his lungs wasn't enough. No. He needed to destroy everything.

He needed to become the enemy in order to destroy Chief Goss's career and life. Becoming a serial killer and igniting the fear of tourists, watching the press put pressure on the police— in some sick way thats how he shined light on the corruption in the department. He even assisted in gathering evidence from his crime scenes, making sure however that whatever was found couldn't be traced back to him. His plan was to get the officers and the Chief fired even imprisoned for their malfeasance, and with them out of the way he would move to the top of the ranks, making the changes the older officers would never allow.

Rossi and Prentiss searched his home and storage unit, finding evidence of his ultimate plan along with trophies he kept from each victim.

Hotch and Morgan found him. Folded on his knees a few hundred yards from his final victims body. It was as if he was trying to get away, but realized it's finally over. When the two pointed their guns in his direction, he obediently clasped his hands behind his head for them to cuff, not wanting to fight anymore.

Afterall his purpose was served— The officers that wanted change got it.

"Hey hot-stuff!" A stentorian voice breathes in my ear, making me flinch.

I turn on my heel, masking my fear with polite smile to greet her. "Penelope!" I rest my hand to my chest, my heart racing. "Don't— You scared me!"

"Awe, I'm sorry my lil' sugar cube." She laughs, her bracelets jingling together as she swings her colorful bag over her shoulder. Her eyes focusing behind me to the menu.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, stepping forward as my place in line moves.

"Clubbing." She chuckles at the confusion on my face. "Getting coffee. We're in a coffee shop cutie, what do you think? Reid and I just got back from this Star Trek convention across town and we're in desperate need of some caffeine."

As if she had summoned him, Spencer comes out of the washroom crumbling a paper towel he used to grab the door handle into the nearby garbage bin.

He heads our way chattering on as if he had never left her side. "Penelope, you have to try the—"

I look up to him, having to crane my neck with how close and Penelope were standing. I never really noticed how tall he was before. Then again we've never been toe to toe, and I haven't had a moment to breathe and take in things so trivial. Although from here it seems anything but...

His proximity and height would make him intimidating if it wasn't for those puppy eyes of his. They're too soft. They're too kind.

Then those dark eyes notice me.

Insecurity bubbled in my chest, the heaviness of his gaze reminding me that I'm wearing fitted joggers and a thin long sleeved tee. My skin is flush and sweaty. My hair is frizzy and untamed despite the bun I tried to wrestle it into this morning, pieces falling out sticking to my face and neck others curling and twisting in whichever direction they choose.

"I can take you home to change if you want."

My face burns in embarrassment, but I hope it's explainable with the red flush of exercise. Now I wish I had taken Derek up on his offer. The one time I go out in public looking unkempt, and I run into him.

The universe is cruel.

"Hi Spence."

His eyes flicker to and from me a few times, as if I was a ghost or a figment of his imagination. "Nicol.. what... w-what are you—" he swallows, shifting on his feet and fidgeting with the strings of the Star Trek hoodie he was wearing.

It's odd seeing him outside of his work clothing, but the hoodie looks very comfortable... I kind of want it.

I finally meet his eyes again, mouth going dry. But before I could answer him the jingle of the coffee shops bell catches our attention. The door knob hits up against the wall, announcing the arrival of the one and only Derek Morgan.

"Yo, Sunshine," He calls out, raising his brows as he draws near. "You said the coffee place on Landon. I've been looking for ya for fifteen minutes."

I smile as he pouts. "No, I said off of Lyndon. You know, the one a few blocks down from the park? I pointed and everything!" Despite the long sleeves I wrap my arms around my waist, feeling kind of exposed without a heavy jacket on.

Derek's presence seems to ween away some of the tension, but I still wish I didn't look like I just got done running across the country. I don't dare look back to Spencer, although I can still feel his eyes.

I don't understand the sudden insecurity. I hadn't felt this way with Derek, or Penelope.

"No one— and I mean no one will ever want you. You're wounded. I'm all you've got babe. It's time you start acting grateful."

"—next."

I blink. "Hm?"

"You're next, kid." Derek gestures to the counter, the barista waiting for me to step forward.

"No, no, no." Penelope pushes past me. "I'm buying drinks- no back talk, I'm buying, period! So, what do you want Niki?"

"Penelope you don't have—"

"Ah! I said no back talk." She smirks. "You too boys, it's on me."

We all thanked her and gave the barista our orders before Penelope waved us away to go find a table. Derek stayed behind, insisting he remain to help carry drinks, but in reality I think he wanted to talk with his 'babygirl'. Spencer and I settle on one near the far wall, photographs of foam art littering the tack board that hung. Sitting across from each other on opposite sides, we share an awkward smile before silence fills the air between us. Both of us preoccupied in our own anxious thoughts to start the small talk.

"So, uh, you and Derek are hanging out." I lift my eyes at his attempt in conversation.

"Mmhm." I nod, fingertips drawing patterns along the surface of the wooden table. "We um, bumped into each other at North Park. Literally."

He hums, fiddling with a string on his sleeve.

He does that a lot. Fidgeting. I don't think I can recall a time when he wasn't tapping, twisting, bouncing, clicking, or picking at something. But then again my memory isn't the best.

I could just be fixating on this action to negate my own quizzical feelings... Wow, maybe something good did come from therapy.

"Are you okay?"

I was not prepared for that question. I hadn't noticed my eyes had dropped again until he had asked.

"Are... are you okay? You look exhausted."

"N-Nicolette? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Are you okay?"

"Good morning. Wait- What happened? Are... are you okay?"

I have not been okay a single time. But you can't just say that.

"Do I really not seem okay the majority of the time? Thats the fifth time you've asked me that in the past few months." I breathe a nervous laugh.

"What- no- no that's not—" he clears his throat. "I just meant... you said you and Derek bumped into each other- literally. You could have fallen or something. He's like a brick wall."

Awe. That's sweet.

No it's not, this is small talk. Big deal he doesn't want you to fall down. The bar is quite literally lower than hell. No, it's still cute. It's cute.

"That's the perfect description of him!" I giggle. "And yes, I actually did stumble back but I didn't fall thankfully. We both frequent the park to run, you know, when we get a chance."

"Ohh."

Warmth spreads through my chest, fuzziness twisting my stomach. "So... Star Trek convention, huh?"

His face blushes red. "I-It's stupid."

"Now why would I believe that?" I frown. "I guess the only way to know if that's true is if you tell me everything about it."

I don't really care to learn about some fantasy series, but his eyes light up bringing a stupidly wide smile to my face.

"Oh no no no, don't get him started." Derek sits besides me, setting a load of drinks on the table. "I'm not listening to another rant about Darth Vader."

I glance between the two men, Derek winks saying something about saving me from a four hour long jumble of dork stuff.

Spencer bites his upper lip. "That's Star Wars." He grumbles.

"Potato— tomato."

"Hey! I heard that mister!" Penelope glares at Derek.

"Baby girl," he holds his hands up defensively. "You know you're the exception, it's not dorky when you do it my love."

"You charmer." She giggled before looking square at me. "Scoot down one would you, Niki?"

"Oh okay?" My voice is small as I move to sit next to Spencer.

"Here you go, Sugar Cube. One earl gray tea- ooh and I got you a sugar cookie they were having a sale!" She smiles taking her rightful seat by Derek.

I take the mug in both my hands, relishing the bit of warmth that spreads through me as I take a sip. I glance at Spencer as I feel his eyes near me, he is staring at the large sugar cookie. While Derek and Penelope struck up a conversation, I slide it closer to him. He sends me a look, questioning if I was really okay with parting with it. In reply I push it further towards him. I wasn't going to eat it anyways. A smile finds it way on my face as his eyes light up and he takes the sugary treat.

Over the past month I've noticed just how much of a sweet tooth he has.

My eyes wonder around the cafe, taking in the calm atmosphere. It won't be long before we are back in the walls of the FBI, in a chaotic, dangerous environment. A sigh passes my lips at the thought.

Two years, ninety-four days, three hours, twenty-seven minutes.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" Dereks eyes squint as he stares me down.

"Nothing." I say a little to quickly. Apparently it's not convincing. "Are you two doing anything after this? You should come with Derek and I!"

"Oo where are you going?" Penelope slurps her drink.

"Why don't you ask Derek?" I rest my head in my hand, a teasing smile breaking on my face. "Don't be shy, tell her why you are stuck with me today."

Penelope nudges his side stifling a laugh. "Ooh what did you do, Dare-Bear?"

"Okay," he holds a hand up, glaring over at me. "This morning I challenged our sweet little Cypher to a race."

"And lost!"

"Barely!!"

I smile, eyeing Spencer and Penelope. "By mile three he was four feet behind me."

I laugh along with the two, seeing the amusement that Derek is somehow blind to.

"You got a head start!" He whines.

"Whatever you wanna tell yourself, sore loser." I roll my eyes playfully. "I'm faster- just weigh a lot less than you do."

"Hey this is all muscle, pretty-girl." He sends me a glare.

"Weight is weight, the math is the same regardless of muscle or fat."

"Okay Reid." He rolls his eyes with a smirk.

"Admit it- I'm just better than you are." I smile. "So yeah. The bet was... If I lose— which he was so sure would happen, I would do all of his paperwork for a month. If I won he had to come with me to buy a car."
••••

Derek pulled his truck around to the front of the coffee shop after we had finished our drinks.

"Wow," I whistle as he steps out of the shiny black truck.

"Like what you see, pretty-girl?" He teases, opening the passenger door for Penelope as Spencer and I take the back row.

"It's... big." Having to step onto a running board and hoist myself into the vehicle.

"You're just tiny."

"No need to defend your choices, Derek." I tease. "I don't think you're overcompensating for anything."

Penelope bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach.

"Okay get out. I can't have you talking 'bout her like that!" He glares back at me with a smirk. "Neither of us appreciate the sass. But keep it up."

"It's a 'her'?" I question, settling into the roomy back seat with Spencer doing the same. "You've... given your vehicle a gender?"

"People are more likely to address an inanimate object as a 'she' or 'her'. And more likely to address living things, such as animals, as 'he' or 'him' despite not knowing if it is in fact a female. Phycologists link this to the instilled onset belief over thousands of years that women are objects, something to be used for the owners benefit. And people subconsciously reflect that in the pronouns they use when speaking of objects vs creatures." Spencer explains clicking his seatbelt into place. His eyes widen after noticing us three staring at him. "Women are not objects... I would never say that... I-I mean-"

"Stop while you're ahead Reid." Derek interrupts him with the shake of his head. "Now, which dealership are we heading to, Nicolette?"

"Dealership?" I meet his gaze through the rear view mirror. "Who said anything about a dealership?"

"Ooo now I'm excited!" Penelope pokes Derek's arm.

My smirk makes him do a double take, his face falls as he realizes he is in way deeper than sitting with me in a dealership for a few hours. "Cypher..." he says slowly. "which... dealership?"

When you have no money, no credit, no bank account, and no collateral you can't really go through the typical systems to get a car. Thankfully there's a legal way I can get one— well it's definitely not illegal— frowned upon and underground-ish maybe. But definitely not illegal.

"Crescent Park, Central please." I declare as he began pulling out of the car lot.

"What are you going to do there? Rob the old couples?" He asks, reluctantly heading in the direction.

"Oh Derek, Derek, Derek." I chant slowly as I stare out the window. "You're going to be stuck with me all day. Why do you think I needed you along? You're my muscle incase things go south."

He groans in mock annoyance, before beginning some form of his normal bickering with Penelope.

My eyes find Spencer, who has been very quiet since his small rant. His eyes are downcast, his bottom lip between his teeth and his knee is bouncing up and down. He's embarrassed. For taking so much, or for thinking he accidentally called women objects, I can't tell.

"So, how are the others spending their few days off?" I ask, trying to reach him.

His onyx colored eyes meet mine, bringing back the fuzziness in my stomach.

"Me?" He asks.

"Yes you, Spence. I don't... I don't.. I think those two are lost in their own little world." I internally scold myself for stuttering as I gesture towards the two in the front seat chattering away.

"Emily went to Atlantic City for the weekend. Rossi is probably lost in his mansion or writing another book, or divorcing his third wife— I don't really know what he does." He makes me laugh. "Hotch is spending time with Jack, and JJ is with Will and their son Henry."

"Rossi has a mansion?"

"Oh yeah... he.. don't call it a 'house' that'll hit a nerve with him. He wrote some books a few years ago, they haven't left the top fifty in years. Proceeds are still paying him out."

"Wow," I cross my arms leaning back in my seat. "Is he in need of a fourth wife?"

"Wh—" Spencer's face is a twist of confusion, disgust, and amusement. Not knowing if I'm serious or not.

"I'm joking!" We both burst into a fit of laughter. "Can you imagine living in a mansion? Having to clean all those rooms— and the floors— ugh! That would be horrible."

"I think he has people who do all of that for him." He breathes through a chuckle.

"Well in that case you've taken away my only downside to this marriage, Spence. Looks like this is happening. I should hold off on the car, he'd probably buy me a plane." I poke making him sputter desperate to take it back.

After we had gotten to the park, they follow me in the direction of the central concrete pad in the park filled with chess tables and people playing on them.

"Why are we wasting time here? Why are we not going to a dealership?" Derek groans.

"When you grown up like I did you learn a few things." I look between the tables, trying to determine which one would be best to compete against. "Pic your niche— chess is mine. Parks, dining halls, tournaments... anywhere people are playing game there's always a few people willing to... make things interesting."

Penelope frowns. "How'd you grow up, exactly?"

"That's not important— I'm going to turn this," I pull out a five dollar bill from my bag, holding it up with a smile. "Into a car."

Derek rolls his eyes and Penelope already anticipating what he would say- pokes Spencer's cheek. "Again with Reid's magic crap."

"Magic?" Suddenly curious I look over to the mortified man. Spencer did magic? Did he do it for children to make them smile, or did he do it for himself when he was a kid to make himself smile?

"Did you know... Caliente Nevada was renamed in—"

When I saw him cringing the memory rang, reminding me of when he noticed my discomfort and let the team ridicule him to take the attention off of me.

"Tell her, k—"

"Never mind." I shake the thought of Spencer sawing someone in half, turning my attention back to the task at hand. "This isn't magic, it's entrepreneurship."

It's fast, efficient, and nearly foolproof. It isn't just about the game, it's about manipulation.

Their confused and skeptical expression dosent falter as I crumble up the five dollar bill and approach my targeted table.