"HURRY UP OR WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE," Katharine had a scarf wrapped around her neck and a bag slung over her shoulder as she waited by the hotel room door for her boyfriend to finish doing whatever it was he was doing.

    She blew a piece of hair out of her face, looking between the watch on her wrist and the room where Spencer had dove back into last minute. He was hidden from her view due to the way the hotel room was set up, but she was pretty sure it didn't take long for him to find his glasses.

    Finally, he stumbled out from behind the wall with the spectacles in hand, reaching out an arm to balance when he nearly tripped over the messenger bag that he had haphazardly dropped there the night before.

    "Ready?" she asked, amused. Spencer slid the frames onto his face, pushing them up at the bridge while making his way to the front door. He checked himself in the mirror, his only purpose to annoy Katharine, before walking over to her and exiting the hotel room.

    "You know we told your mom two-thirty," she said, pressing the button on the elevator. She looked at her watch. "It's two-fifteen now. It'll take us at least twenty minutes to get there."

    "It's not my fault you decided to join me in the shower," Spencer said, snaking an arm around her waist. She hit his chest in offense, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes. "You know, shower sex accounts for roughly eighty percent of sex-related injuries whether it's from slipping and falling or due to the position that you're in. If it's the position, it's usually due to a person's back spasming and locking in a particular position which can lead to--"

    "Fine," she said, stopping his onslaught of information. She got into the elevator without him. "We'll just never have shower sex again."

    Spencer grabbed ahold of her as the elevator doors closed, tickling her until she begged for mercy. He stopped when the elevator doors reopened a few floors below them, kissing her as the elderly couple got onto the lift.

    "Aw," the older woman cooed, looking at Katharine wrapped in Spencer's embrace. "Remember when we used to be young like that, Earl?"

    The older man, Earl laughed wholeheartedly. He grabbed his wife around the waist the same as Spencer held Katharine and kissed her lightly. "Whaddya mean 'used to be?'"

    Katharine smiled at the older couple. "How long have you two been together?"

    The older woman smiled. "Sixty-five years tomorrow."

    The elevator doors opened in the lobby and the two couples parted ways, Katharine and Spencer toward the exit and Earl and his lady toward the casino.

    "You know," Katharine said, swinging their interlocked arms as they walked. "I wouldn't mind growing up to be like them."

    "With me?" Spencer asked, an amused look on his face. She looked up at him and beamed, bumping his hip.

    "Who else?"

    They flagged down a cab and got in, Spencer rattling off the address of the Bennington Sanitarium as they sat down. Katharine placed their intertwined hands on her lap, playing with his fingers as they sat in the cab together.

    After their minorly uneventful cab ride--save for the pigeon that nearly flattened itself into a pancake on the windshield--they finally arrived. Katharine paid the fare before exiting the cab, feeling the nerves start to spread across her body because she was about to meet Spencer's mom for the first time.

    "Relax," he said, their hands once again intertwined. "There's nothing to be worried about. It's just my mom."

    "Exactly," she hissed at him. "It's your mom. The only person more important to you than me!"

    He snorted. "You think you're important to me."

    She hit his chest, harder this time. "Spencer, this is not the time to joke around!"

    "She'll love you," he said as they approached the front desk. "Just trust me."

    "Dr. Reid," the woman at the front desk greeted. She was dressed in green scrubs with a stethoscope hung around her neck as well as her ID tag that read Margaret Larkin.

    "Hi Margaret," Spencer greeted, doing his little wave. "This is Katharine and we're here to see my mom. Uh, how's she doing today?"

    Margaret smiled at the pair. She picked up a clipboard with a pen attached, handing it over to Katharine. "We just need you to fill out your information as a visitor and then you can go in. Diana's had a rough couple of days but I'm sure your visit will improve her mood greatly."

    Katharine took the clipboard and filled out the required information, jotting down her name and other information before handing the items back to the nurse.

    She read it over quickly before printing out both of their visitor's badges, allowing Katharine and Spencer into the rest of the building. Katharine thanked the woman before following behind Spencer, who had already entered the next room.

    Katharine entered the room, following Spencer through to the woman sitting in an armchair facing the window. She had a book in her lap, though she didn't seem to be focused on the text anymore.

    "Hey mom," she heard Spencer greet the woman, standing with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

    It took her a moment to respond, drawing her attention away from the scene outdoors to focus on the man in front of her. When it registered to her who he was, she couldn't help the gin that broke out onto her face.

    "Spencer," she greeted warmly, holding out a hand toward the lanky man. She waved him over. "Come, sit."

    Katharine watched as he sat on the windowsill in front of her, talking in a calm voice. Her heart warmed at the sight of the mother-son duo interacting.

    "What took you so long to finally come back out and visit?" she asked him, searching his face. "You got a haircut."

    Spencer laughed, running a hand through his hair. His hair was significantly shorter than it was the last time she'd seen him. Instead of sporting the "bisexual bob" as Katharine once described it, he was now looking more and more like he belonged in a boyband, which Katharine found equal parts adorable and extremely attractive.

    "I did," he said. His eyes darted up to meet hers before returning to his mother. "But, uh, that's not all that's changed in my life."

    Diana seemed to relax more in the presence of her son. She closed the book in her lap and leaned back in her armchair ever so slightly. "Is that so?"

    Spencer motioned with his head for Katharine to come and sit next to him, and so she did. Spencer moved over slightly on the windowsill so that she could sit in front of the woman.

    "Hi Mrs. Reid," she greeted, a genuine smile on her face. Out of the multitudes of people she saw in a day, only a fraction of them got to see her genuine smile. Katharine really wanted to leave a good impression on Spencer's mom.

    "Call me Diana," Diana replied kindly, returning Katharine's smile. "Gosh, Spencer. Where have you been keeping this one all these years? She's gorgeous."

    "Mom," Spencer groaned in embarrassment. Katharine looked over at Spencer, complete adoration in her eyes. God, she loved that man.

    "I've heard so much about you, Diana," she said, returning her attention to the woman. "And please, I don't even hold a candle to you."

    Diana's smile grew wider, if possible. "I like her, you should keep her."

    Spencer got up from his seat. "I'm going to go look for your doctor. Do you mind staying here?"

    The question was aimed at Katharine, who shook her head. "No, I don't mind. I'll stay right here."

    The women watched as Spencer left, leaving the two in a rather comfortable silence.

    "You know," Diana said, breaking the ice, "I never thought he'd ever bring anyone back to meet me. You must be special. How long have you two been together?"

    Katharine smiled. "Uh, three months but I've known Spencer for nearly a year now."

    "A year?" she asked. "What took him so long?"

    The two laughed at that, easily becoming comfortable with each other. Katharine bit her lip, contemplating her next move. She had about ten minutes before Spencer would return which meant she had to do it now or wait until the next time she was able to come out to Las Vegas, which could be in another two years (if she was lucky).

    Katharine cleared her throat, wringing her hands together.

    "Uh, there was actually something else I wanted to get out of this visit," Katharine said, leaning forward slightly. "Have you heard of the Leap Years' proposal?"

    Diana nodded. She looked past Katharine for a moment before returning to their conversation.

    "Well, I know I haven't been dating Spencer for long but I've loved him since the moment I met him and I wanted to get your blessing," Katharine confessed, looking Diana right in the eye. She swallowed down her nerves, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a red leather bag. She took the item out and placed it in Diana's hand, allowing her to observe the jewelry.

"My mom proposed to my dad on a Leap Year and this was the band she gave him. After my dad died, she gave me this ring to hold onto, just in case, I found the perfect someone. I know February is still two months out, but I wanted to let you know that I plan to spend the rest of my life loving your son if he would let me."

    Diana was quiet, turning the ring over in her hand several times. Finally, she reached out and set the ring back in Katharine's hands. She closed her hand in a fist over the band, gripping it loosely.

    "I like to think that I know my son better than anyone," Diana said, leaning forward so that her face was right in front of Katharine's. "When he writes his letters to me, you're always the first person mentioned. From the first letter I received that had your name in it to now, it became pretty clear that he's just in love with you as you are him."

    "Thank you," Katharine barely whispered. She slipped her father's ring back in its velvet bag and put it back in her pocket. "Diana, thank you for giving me this."

    Diana leaned back in her seat and opened her book back up. Katharine could easily tell where Spencer had gotten his love of reading.

    "Please," she said, turning the page. She looked up at Katharine with a sparkle in her eyes. "Call me mom."

    Katharine beamed. "Thank you, mom."

    The two women sat in each other's company a while longer, waiting for Spencer to return.

    When he finally did, he looked between the two with suspicion.

"What did you two get up to while I was gone?" he asked.

"Nothing," Diana responded, not bothering to look up from her book. Katharine smiled, getting up from her seat. She took Spencer's hand in her own, giving it a squeeze.

"Really," she said, looking up at his concerned features. "It was nothing."

Spencer sighed, resigning the issue. He rocked back onto his heels, his other hand returning to his pocket.

"Hotch called," Spencer said, a frown on his face. "We have a case."

Katharine sighed. She knew they'd have to return to work sometime. "Are we meeting them or do they want us back in DC?"

"He said we should take the next flight back if possible."

Katharine nodded. The two bid goodbye to Diana, who sent Katharine off with a knowing look. They made their way back to the hotel, Katharine calling the restaurant they were going to go to in order to cancel their reservation while Spencer canceled the rest of their stay.

Soon enough, they met back up in the lobby, Katharine wearing both of their go-bags on her shoulders. Spencer took them both from her, leaving Katharine with only his messenger bag and her purse.

    "Ready to get back to work?" he asked, flagging down a cab. Katharine just sighed again, wrapping her arms around Spencer's waist.

    "No," she admitted. "But I guess if we don't catch the bad guys, then no one else will."

    "WELCOME BACK," Hotch greeted them. He had volunteered to pick them up from the airport, seeing as he was the one who had to cut their vacation short. "How was Vegas?"

    Katharine grinned, setting her bags into the trunk of the SUV. "It was good. Sucks our trip had to be cut short though."

    "I'm sorry," Hotch apologized. "But serial killers don't take breaks--"

    "Which means neither can we," Spencer finished for him. They gave each other knowing looks. Hotch was becoming more of a dad every day, which made sense considering he actually was a dad.

    Hotch drove them to their house first, allowing them to change out of their plane outfits and swap out the clothes from their go-bags. Once they had finished there, Hotch drove them to the BAU, telling them that he'd be more than willing to arrange them a ride back after the case though they all knew that meant Anderson would most likely be the one to drive them back.

    When they finally got to the BAU, Katharine was the first to get into the building in a beeline for the coffee machine. They hadn't slept much on the plane and Katharine needed some way to make sure her brain would stay awake.

    "How was Vegas?" she heard her cousin ask as she settled into the briefing room. Katharine gave him a quick run-down on what they had managed to do in their time there, leaving out the fact that she had asked for Diana's blessing and also that Spencer had managed to get kicked out of yet another casino. She figured Spencer could tell him if he really wanted to.

    Derek was about to reply with a snarky comment when Hotch entered the room. He shut his mouth as their boss took a seat at the round table, which was Garcia's cue to start presenting the case.

"Spin the wheel and it is sunny Los Angeles, people," Garcia told them, clicking buttons on the remote. Katharine watched as photos of the city started to pop up on the screen.

"Two times in one year, huh?" Derek commented, turning on his tablet.

Rossi scoffed. "Remind me again why it's called the City of Angels."

"It was originally called the town of our Lady, the Queen of the Angels," Spencer started before realizing the looks he was receiving from his teammates. Katharine grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed in reassurance. "That was a rhetorical question, wasn't it?"

"This is a weird one," Garcia said, making a face.

Katharine looked at the eccentric woman. "As opposed to?"

"Ah, withhold your judgment, mon ami," she said, waving the remote around like a wand. "Ok, three women, all abducted from different parts of the city and murdered within the last couple of weeks. Shelly Onto, twenty-three-year-old bank teller, fifteen days ago. Vickie Hagerg, a thirty-nine-year-old art teacher, six days ago. And Linda Dean, a twenty-eight-year-old hostess at a bar, two days ago. All from different parts of the city, all different socioeconomic statuses."

"All three were held approximately twenty-four hours before being dumped in a public space," Hotch added on. Katharine was beginning to regret ever leaving Vegas.

"He's not hiding what he's doing," Rossi said, swiping through the photos on his tablet.

"And here's one weird part," Garcia said as the photos appeared on their devices.

"They all look like floaters," Emily said, zooming in on her tablet to get a better look.

"Mm-hmm," Garcia said, nodding. "All three women were drowned."

Spencer squinted at the photos in his hands. "Their bodies weren't found anywhere near water?"

"No, they weren't."

"They were drowned somewhere else and transported to the dumpsite," Hotch told them. Katharine frowned looking at the photos closer.

"Garcia, you're right," she apologized. "This is weird."

"Oh, but there's more," the techie said, clicking a button on her remote. "They weren't drowned in water."

"Methanol?" Spencer asked in disbelief. Katharine made a face at that. Just the thought of being drowned was enough, but drowned in methanol? That was a whole 'nother level of 'what the fuck?"

"Each woman had it in her lungs and was alive before she went into it," Hotch said. "No water, just methanol."

"Drowning is a tough way to kill someone," Rossi said, looking up from his tablet.

Katharine nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's slow. The unsub wants his victims to suffer, and it looks like he's got the space and privacy in which to do it."

"And if you have yet to hit your daily allotment of skeeve before breakfast," Garcia said, bringing their attention back to the screen. "Each woman had an identical removal of flesh taken from the bottom of her right foot."

Katharine genuinely wanted to hurl.

"Methanol and skin," Rossi said, stroking his chin. "What the hell's he doing with them?"

ONCE THEY HAD FINISHED DEBRIEFING, it wasn't long until Katharine found herself back in the air, this time on the team's private jet. She thanked the FBI silently in her head, having had enough of crying babies in the air for the time being.

"Methanol is compositionally speaking the simplest of the alcohols," Spencer said from behind her, making a cup of tea. "It's actually ubiquitous in the environment. There are small traces of its vapor in the atmosphere, but atmospheric methanol is easily oxidized by sunlight."

He finished making his cup and settled into the couch next to Katharine, casually throwing an arm around her shoulders. She was surprised at the contact but didn't complain about it.

"Is it toxic?" Emily asked, turning her head to look at the man.

"Ingesting ten milliliters of it will cause permanent blindness," Spencer explained, "and as little as thirty is potentially fatal."

"These victims had between five and six ounces in their lungs," Derek said from his spot leaning against the aircraft walls.

"You know, if they were immersed in it, they would have died even without ingesting or inhaling it," Spencer said. He took a sip of tea, wincing as the hot water burned his tongue. "When absorbed through the skin, it depresses the central nervous system to an unsustainable degree."

"Well, what's it used for?"

Katharine took Spencer's mug so that his hand was free to gesticulate what he was saying. "What isn't it used for? A solvent, an antifreeze. In World War II, the Germans used it for rocket fuel. It's used in wine-making. Its most commonplace use, however, is in the creation of other chemicals. Methanol can become plastic, plywood, paint, explosives, permanent-press textiles. It's essentially the chemical used to separate other chemicals from each other."

Katharine blew on the tea, trying to cool it enough to drink. "Can it be bought and is it tracked?"

"California's got some of the strictest environmental laws in the country," Hotch said from his seat across from Emily. "I'm sure it's regulated."

"Yeah," Rossi said from next to him, "but methanol is also used in making biofuels, which quite a few people have been doing at home. I'd imagine the sale of it is fairly commonplace."

"But he needs enough in which to immerse a body," Hotch pointed out.

"All the victims were nude," Derek said, "but there's no evidence of any sexual assault on any of them."

"And the skin was removed from the bottom of the foot," Emily brought up. "Unless we're talking about a foot fetishist, you actually can't get further away from sexual areas."

"Yeah," Spencer took his cup back. "Impotent sadists like Robert Napper typically take their frustration out on their victims. You'd think there'd be a lot more overkill."

" And what he's doing is very specific, very focused."

Katharine nodded, tapping the dimming screen of her tablet. "What about the skin patches? Is this a trophy of some sort?"

"I have no idea," Spencer said, looking down at her screen. He looked back up at the group. "Skin, independent of any other substance, would wither and die rather quickly."

"Well, that might be the thing that's forcing our unsub back out on the hunt," Emily said.

"Considering the wide divergence of abduction and dumpsites, this guy could be anywhere," Derek said. "LA is over five-hundred square miles."

"Uh, four-hundred ninety-eight point three," Spencer clarified. Katharine elbowed him in the side slightly, telling him that this was not the time.

"And the fact that no one has seen him either abduct or dispose says he knows the city and its patterns well," Rossi said, looking between his teammates and his tablet.

Katharine bit her lip. Catching this guy might prove longer than usual, though she had her fingers crossed that it wouldn't. She was due back in New York sometime soon and she really didn't want Iron Ass knocking down their doors anytime soon.

They wrapped up their on-plane talk, Hotch giving them the rest of the four-hour journey to do as they pleased. Katharine took the time to catch up on whatever sleep she could, sinking further into Spencer's side and closing her eyes as the waves of sleep pulled her under.