" why do you hate me ? "

** = plot written by me

viii. Michigan
6800 Words

JADE YAWNED AS SHE SANK INTO her chair across from Spencer. The past few days had felt like a blur. With Gideon's sudden departure still lingering in the air, the team was adjusting to a new normal, their cases ticking by with an urgency that couldn't be ignored. Spencer sat quietly, absorbed in a thick book, his usual posture stiff but comfortable.

   Hotch stood at the head of the conference table, and as the team settled, he powered up the projector. The faint hum of the machine filled the room before the screen flickered to life.

   "Our next case is in Michigan," Hotch said, his voice steady, revealing no hint of personal attachment to the case, his eyes never leaving the screen as he clicked to the next slide.

   Jade's attention snapped upward at the mention of Michigan, her posture immediately shifting, and her eyes narrowing just slightly.

   "Michigan?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of unease.

   Hotch glanced up but didn't catch the shift in her demeanor. "Yeah," he replied casually. "Four women, all in their mid-20s, have been found murdered in Detroit."

   The mention of Detroit hit her like a jolt, a small tremor racing through her that she quickly masked. Her hands clenched around the edge of the table, her gaze drifting briefly to the side before refocusing.

   Derek, ever perceptive, didn't miss the shift in Jade's expression. He threw a quick glance her way but didn't comment, instead narrowing his eyes as he scanned the case file in front of him.

   "They all have a lot in common... brunettes, same age range," Derek muttered, eyes scanning the details on the screen.

   Hotch, ever focused, didn't acknowledge Derek's observation beyond a quick glance. "They were all also from troubled backgrounds—foster care or abuse—and were trying to turn their lives around when they were killed."

   Jade's stomach twisted, the weight of those words hanging in the air. It wasn't just the facts—it was the recognition that the victims' stories mirrored the part of her life she didn't speak about, didn't think about. It hit too close to home. She shifted in her seat, her breath hitching slightly.

   The images of the victims flashed on the screen, their faces frozen in time, a stark reminder of how quickly a life could be stolen away.

   "The unsub binds and gags his victims, then carves a spiral pattern into their shoulders. These wounds are non-fatal but suggest prolonged torture," Hotch continued, his voice steady, clinical. "He seems to believe that by making his victims relive their pain, they'll be freed through death. Each victim is left in a location tied to their past—work, childhood, or somewhere they once felt safe."

   The team absorbed the information quietly, each processing the details in their own way.

   "Sounds personal," JJ said softly, her voice reflecting the weight of the case.

   Spencer, who had been uncharacteristically silent, leaned forward slightly, adjusting his glasses as he processed the information.

   "There's a clear psychological element at play," he began, his tone measured and precise, the same voice he used when discussing the most intricate details of a case. "The unsub is not just killing these women—he's recreating their trauma. By forcing them to relive their past pain, he's trying to establish control over them, perhaps in an attempt to dominate the narrative of their suffering. The spiral pattern could symbolize something—a form of ownership or an obsession with their personal pain. It's not just about death for him—it's about power."

   His words hung in the air as the team exchanged thoughtful looks. Spencer's insight, though matter-of-fact, always seemed to hit harder in these moments, the weight of his intelligence not lost on anyone in the room.

   "What about their bodies? Where were they left?" JJ asked, her voice calm but laced with a sense of urgency as she sifted through the case files.

   Hotch clicked the remote, and a new set of images appeared on the screen. The buildings were eerie—empty, broken-down structures that seemed to hold the ghosts of the past.

   "Most of the bodies were found in abandoned, shut-down places—foster homes, orphanages, facilities that were once meant to protect children," Hotch explained, his tone matter-of-fact, but there was a somber weight to his words. He clicked again, showing pictures of dilapidated buildings, their windows dark and cold.

   "Most of those shut down in the 1990s," Jade murmured under her breath, her fingers absentmindedly twisting a bracelet on her wrist. She hadn't even realized she'd spoken aloud, her mind drifting back to the forgotten corners of her own past. She didn't look up, but the words had slipped out anyway, familiar and detached. "Abuse, bad treatment, bad hygiene, health," she added, her gaze still fixed on the case images, though her mind had wandered far off.

   A tense silence fell over the room as the team looked at her. Jade blinked, and then, slowly, she looked up at them, her face calm but her eyes carrying a quiet weight. "Uhm—" She paused, shaking her head briefly as if clearing a fog. "I grew up in Michigan," she said, her voice steady but quiet.

   Derek raised an eyebrow in confusion, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with curiosity. "I thought you grew up in New York?"

   Jade nodded, her expression unchanged, but there was a slight shift in her posture. "Michigan first. I was born in Michigan," she corrected, her voice now laced with subtle firmness, as if asserting something she hadn't often spoken about. "I moved to New York when I was a teenager."

   Derek blinked, processing the information before nodding, though a small frown lingered on his face. "Got it. Guess you've got some insight into these places, huh?" he said, the warmth in his voice returning, but there was an edge of seriousness to his words.

   Jade's gaze flickered momentarily, then she nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn't offer much more, instead, her fingers began to fidget again, this time with the hem of her sleeve, as if trying to ground herself in the moment.

   Hotch, who had been watching the exchange carefully, gave a brief nod, as if confirming his thoughts. "Good. You can help us when we're there," he said, his voice as steady as ever, but his gaze now turned towards the larger picture.

  Jade barely reacted, her face blank as she met his eyes for a moment before turning her attention back to the case. There was no excitement in her expression, just a quiet resignation.

   "Some of these locations seem... more personal," Hotch continued, his tone shifting slightly as he clicked the remote. A new image appeared on the screen, showing the bloodstained interior of a music studio. "Take Sierra Hunt. She was left in her music studio, where she recorded her final song," Hotch said, his voice even, but there was a subtle note of sadness in the air.

   Jade stared at the screen, her lips tightening slightly, though she kept her expression neutral. Music, recording—those places could be so much more than just buildings.

   "Or Rachel Martinez. A school building, one she took refuge in when she ran away from her orphanage," Hotch continued. The image that followed was equally haunting, the stark contrast of the blood splattered against the cold walls of the abandoned school was almost too much to look at.

   Derek, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, glanced at the screen before giving a soft whistle. "This unsub's got a thing for making the victims relive their pasts. Not just killing them—he's dragging them back into those moments, forcing them to confront everything they've tried to leave behind," he said, his voice low, a mixture of disgust and disbelief.

   Spencer, who had been unusually quiet, looked up as he processed the details. "The unsub's method is highly ritualistic," he added, his tone soft but precise.

   "The places he chooses for the victims—it's not just about the victims themselves. It's about their history, their identity. These locations are significant—they represent some aspect of their past that they couldn't escape. The spiral pattern on the bodies... it's not just physical—it's psychological. He's trying to mark them, claiming ownership over their trauma." Spencer explained.

   "The unsub's probably a victim themselves," JJ said, her voice soft yet filled with the weight of the case. She scanned the images of the victims, her expression a mix of empathy and concern. "All of these women—they had rough childhoods. Abuse, neglect... the whole nine yards."

Derek, leaning back in his chair, crossed his arms with a frown. "Sounds like the unsub's dealing with some major rage issues," he said, his tone assertive, the easy confidence of someone who's been on the field too many times to be fooled by the surface-level details. "Maybe he's taking it out on 'em, feels like they deserve it—just like he does."

Jade's voice, calmer but no less insightful, cut through the conversation. "Or maybe he thinks he's setting them free. Like, if they didn't get help when they needed it, he's trying to give it to them—whether they want it or not." She paused, considering the case. "Could be a delusional disorder, something where he believes they'll be better off in death."

JJ looked at her with a thoughtful expression. "I could see that. But this guy, he's definitely got a method. Does everything the same way—binds and gags, carves those spirals in the victims. Could be OCD," she suggested, her fingers tapping on the table as she spoke.

Derek leaned forward, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized the pictures. "Yeah, the dude's got some deep issues. But honestly? I think he's probably trying to fix something—he's fixated on it, y'know? They're all women who've been hurt. He probably thinks he's doing 'em a favor."

Hotch's voice broke into the conversation, steady and firm. "We'll figure that out on the way there," he said as he moved to shut off the TV. "Let's get going."

The shift was instantaneous—everyone sprang into action. Derek stood, slinging his jacket over his shoulder, already in 'mission mode'. JJ quickly grabbed her things, already talking through the plan in her head. Jade, always composed, stood last, gathering her stuff at a deliberate pace. Spencer followed her, his curiosity evident as he waited for her to finish.

Spencer caught up to her just before the door, voice pitched just a little higher than usual, showing concern. "Are you okay?"

Jade glanced at him, her expression neutral but with a hint of something unspoken behind her eyes. "Perfectly," she replied, the calmness in her voice almost too smooth, too practiced.

Spencer nodded, but the lingering concern in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Jade. He didn't push, though. He never did when it came to her. He simply gave her the space she needed, trusting her enough to leave it at that.

"Let's get moving," she said softly, giving him a brief nod. They moved together toward the hallway, footsteps in sync, the rest of the team already ahead of them.

⭓ MICHIGAN, detroit ≋ 11:25 AM

   Jade stepped into the music studio, the sound of the door creaking slightly as it closed behind her. The room was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the chaotic, disturbing scene before them. Sierra Hunt's body, their 25-year-old victim, was still hidden behind a wall of glass, but the blood was impossible to ignore.

   Blood splattered across the walls in jagged, frenetic patterns—almost as if someone had taken a paintbrush and smeared it, creating something resembling soundwaves, a twisted, macabre representation of the art she loved. The recording equipment, usually pristine, was now splattered with red. It looked like the entire room had been soaked in blood.

   Jade's stomach churned as she stood frozen for a moment, her eyes scanning the horror. JJ muttered a soft "Oh, God," under her breath, her voice trembling with disbelief. Jade's face contorted into an expression of disgust. This scene was like something out of a nightmare. Her gaze flicked between the room and the others.

   As if on cue, the local police chief approached, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

   "Lila Carter," the chief introduced herself as she extended a hand to Hotch.

   "Nice to meet you, Lila—or Chief Carter," Derek said slowly, his voice carrying that familiar, easy-going tone. His eyes, however, flicked to Spencer as he spoke her name. "Lila."

   Spencer didn't even flinch, his gaze never leaving the crime scene.

   "Agent Morgan." Derek continued.

   Jade watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, confusion furrowing her brow. She looked from Derek to Spencer, but neither man gave anything away. Her focus shifted back to Hotch as he introduced the rest of the team. "This is Dr. Reid, Agent Jareau, and Beckett."

   Lila's eyes lingered on Jade for a moment longer than necessary. There was something about the way she looked at her, as though she recognized her—or at least knew of her. After a long moment, she nodded, pulling herself together. "This... this is way more brutal than we expected," Lila said, her voice strained, as if the weight of the case had been wearing her down. "We thought by now we'd have caught him. But it just keeps getting worse."

   Derek crossed his arms, surveying the room with that keen, detective-like intensity of his. "Any signs or anything left behind that could help identify him?" His voice was laced with the kind of quiet authority that demanded answers.

   JJ's eyes wandered over to a CD on the table. She reached for it instinctively, glancing at the label.

   Lila exhaled heavily. "So far, no leads." She shifted, walking towards the recording console. "Except for this..." Her fingers hesitated over the buttons before she pressed one. Suddenly, the chilling sound of a woman's final screams filled the room. It was the last thing Sierra had heard before her life was taken—a raw, desperate cry that echoed through the studio, amplified by the old equipment.

   Jade jumped slightly, her eyes widening as the sound sliced through the silence. The scream was almost unbearable, and for a moment, it felt like the whole room was suffocating. The air felt heavy with the presence of death. Jade clenched her fists, trying to shake the image of the girl's terrified face from her mind.

   The recording finally stopped. Spencer, who had been observing the playback, spoke up in his usual measured tone. "Maybe.. the unsub is trying to leave a message." His eyes, hidden behind his ever-present, unreadable expression, scanned the console. "By recording the victim's screams, he might believe he's giving them a voice—something they didn't have when they were alive."

   Hotch stepped forward, his voice sharp. "He's making a statement. It's not looking like we have too much time."

   Derek shot a quick glance at Spencer. "Yeah— if this guy's getting more reckless, we don't have a lot of time to play catch-up."

   "I bet you're dying to look at the body then," Lila said, her voice carrying a dark undertone as she walked toward the door leading to the back of the glass partition. She swung it open, revealing the scene beyond. The team stepped forward, and the grim reality of what they were about to see hit them like a tidal wave.

   Sierra Hunt's body lay in the center of the room, stark against the cold, clinical tile floor. She was positioned in a deliberate pose—arms extended out at her sides, her body arranged almost like a crucifixion. The bloodied guitar, a symbol of her passion and her death, was placed carefully next to her, a sickening tribute to her life and her demise. Her legs were bound tightly at the ankles, and her hands were tied over her chest, in a mockery of some kind of sacrificial ritual. It was the spiral carved into her chest that commanded the most attention.

   Spencer leaned in slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration as he observed the spiral carving. His voice was quiet, methodical. "He carved something into her chest."

   JJ's gaze locked onto the wound, her lips pressed tight as she nodded. "A spiral."

   Derek crossed his arms, squinting at the body. "What, like culty stuff?"

   Spencer shook his head, his eyes never leaving   the spiral. "No, no," he muttered, the wheels in his mind already turning. "Spirals have many meanings. They can symbolize everything from the natural progression of life to personal transformation." He paused for a moment, running his fingers through his hair as he continued.

   "In some cultures, the spiral represents the journey of the soul, the cycle of life, or even the transition between different states of existence. It can also signify a desire to control, to create a pattern out of chaos."

   Hotch's voice cut through the explanation, steady and focused. "So, you're saying it's not just random?"

   "No," Spencer answered quickly, his eyes still fixed on the gruesome mark. "The unsub is clearly trying to communicate something. Maybe he sees this as a form of cleansing, or perhaps he believes he's guiding them to some kind of spiritual freedom. But this is methodical—this is part of his process."

   Derek glanced over at Hotch, his expression darkening. "So, what, this guy's doing some kind of twisted purification ritual?"

   Spencer paused, his mind working at a speed that only he could process. "Not necessarily. It's more like a manifestation of his obsession with pain and control. The spiral is his way of marking the victim, of leaving a signature." His voice lowered slightly as he added, "A pattern."

   JJ stepped closer, her voice softer now. "This one feels different, though. The body's arranged so... deliberately. Like he's trying to make a statement."

   Jade squinted at the spiral, her brow furrowing as she crouched cautiously beside Spencer. The room reeked of coppery blood, and the sheer amount of it made her visibly uneasy. She shifted slightly, her boots slipping on the slick surface of the blood pooling beneath them. Her gasp broke the tension as her balance wavered, her arms flailing for a moment.

   Without hesitation, Spencer's hand shot out, his long fingers wrapping firmly around her arm to steady her. "Careful," he said softly, his voice carrying a tone of concern rather than reprimand. His grip was gentle but deliberate, his touch lingering a second longer than necessary.

   Jade glanced down at his hand on her arm, her expression unreadable before she gently tugged away. "Thanks," she muttered, her voice low, not quite meeting his gaze.

   Hotch, ever the observer, caught the brief exchange and shifted his attention back to the scene, his face giving nothing away.

   Jade's eyes settled on the spiral again, her unease momentarily replaced with a look of quiet focus. Something about it tugged at the edges of her memory, a sensation she couldn't quite pin down.

   "What's wrong, Beckett?" Derek asked, his deep voice breaking the silence as he glanced at her.

   "I don't know," Jade replied, her tone unusually soft, as though the words themselves were fragile. "It just looks... familiar. Like I've seen it before. I feel like I should know where this is from." She glanced up at Lila Carter, her gaze steady despite the chaotic scene around them. "Are there any cases with carvings like this? Anything similar?"

   Lila tilted her head, thinking. "Possibly. But nothing jumps out at me. You could check back at the station—we've got old files archived there."

   Jade exhaled, the sound heavy in the quiet room, and nodded.

⭓ MICHIGAN, detroit ≋ 1:02 PM

   Jade exhaled sharply, the stack of files thudding onto the desk with a weight that matched the atmosphere of the case. The room the team had set up in was far from welcoming—fluorescent lights hummed overhead, and the air was thick with the smell of takeout. Derek paused mid-bite of his Coney Dog, glancing at the stack with raised eyebrows.

    "Oh, you were actually serious about digging through all of that?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

   "Dead serious," Jade said, her tone as flat as her expression. She began handing out files methodically, her movements crisp and no-nonsense.

   JJ took one of the files, flipping it open before glancing at the growing pile still on the desk. "I didn't realize there was so much... death here," she murmured, her voice soft.

   Jade, unfazed, didn't even glance up. "It's always been like this," she replied coolly. "This city survives by scraping itself back together after every blow." She paused, her voice dropping to something almost mechanical. "People get forgotten here—swept under the rug because it's easier than dealing with the mess."

   The room went quiet for a moment. Spencer glanced at Jade, his sharp eyes studying her carefully, but he said nothing.

   Jade broke the silence by grabbing a napkin from the table, her gaze landing on Derek, who was still enthusiastically eating. She walked behind his chair, leaning in like a disapproving parent. "Derek," she said, her tone clipped.

   "Hm?" Derek responded, his mouth still half-full.

   Without waiting for permission, Jade pressed the napkin to his mouth, holding him in place as she wiped aggressively. "For God's sake," she muttered, her free hand braced firmly on his shoulder. "Call Garcia and ask her to pull unsolved cases involving child abuse."

    "Girl—" Derek groaned, pulling back and rubbing his mouth dramatically once she let go. "As long as you don't try to suffocate me again," he mumbled, reluctantly pulling out his phone.

   JJ watched the interaction with a faint smile, but her gaze softened when she looked back at Jade. "You don't have to be on edge," she said gently.

   Jade didn't miss a beat. "Maybe we should be, considering someone's out there practically gutting women and carving culty, Halloween-ass spirals into their bodies." Her tone was ice cold, her expression unreadable.

   Hotch, already flipping through one of the files, cleared his throat. "Reid," he said, his voice calm but firm, "go get her some coffee."

   Jade looked up quickly. "I don't need coffee," she protested, but Spencer had already stood and left the room, not saying a word. She sighed in exasperation, her gaze following him. "What is he, a lost puppy? Why does he listen to everything you say?" she muttered, her face neutral but her tone dry.

   Hotch didn't even look up. "Because I'm the one in charge here, not you," he replied evenly, flipping to the next page of his file. "He listens to me, not you."

   "We'll see about that," Jade muttered under her breath, refocusing on the file in front of her.

   Derek, clearly amused, smirked as he leaned back in his chair and dialed Garcia. "Hey, babygirl," he said, his voice dropping into his signature playful tone.

   Jade's eyes flicked up, her brow raising slightly. "Seriously?" she deadpanned.

   Derek cleared his throat quickly, straightening in his seat. "Uh, could you look into unsolved cases involving child abuse?" he said, glancing at Jade for confirmation.

   "Detroit," Jade added quietly. She paused, thinking. "The 80s to... now. Start there."

   "Got it," Garcia's voice chirped through the speaker. "Give me a sec to dig through the archives."

   "Thanks, mama," Derek said with a grin, leaning back again.

   "Looking into it," Garcia confirmed, the faint clatter of her keyboard echoing in the background.

   As the conversation wrapped up, Jade sighed again and leaned back in her chair, her eyes flicking briefly to Hotch, who was still engrossed in his file. Her fingers tapped idly on the edge of the table, her mind clearly elsewhere. When Spencer returned with a cup of coffee a few minutes later, setting it down in front of her without a word, she glanced at him but didn't say thank you.

   Jade sipped her coffee with a deliberate slowness, her face blank as she set the cup back on the table. "It's disgusting," she declared flatly, her voice carrying just enough weight to make Spencer glance over at her.

He turned his head slowly, looking as though she'd just insulted a favorite book of his. "What?" he asked, his tone tinged with genuine disbelief.

"You made it wrong." Her words were curt, matter-of-fact, as she leaned back in her chair and flipped through her file without so much as a glance his way.

Spencer's brows furrowed. "I didn't make it wrong," he countered, his voice quick with defensiveness. "I made it exactly the way you always take it. Two splashes of cream and—"

"And I don't like it," Jade interrupted, cutting him off mid-sentence. She gestured lazily toward the cup. "It's wrong. You did it by memory, and it's wrong."

Spencer blinked at her, momentarily caught off guard. "Why do you hate me?" he blurted suddenly, his voice raising just slightly as frustration crept in.

"Reid," Hotch's voice cut through the room, sharp and authoritative. He didn't even look up from his file.

Jade grin faintly, her eyes still scanning the file in front of her. "Do you always push everyone's buttons when you're upset?" Hotch asked calmly, shifting his focus toward Jade now.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jade replied evenly, her expression unreadable.

Spencer, still visibly annoyed but now trying to contain it, straightened in his seat. "I'll make you a new one," he said, his tone carefully neutral but edged with quiet determination.

"I didn't want any to begin with," Jade replied with a shrug, finally looking up at him. "And you'd know that if you weren't busy listening to the Big Bad Wolf over there." She flicked a finger in Hotch's direction, her words dripping with casual irreverence.

Hotch's head lifted, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "Excuse me?" he said, his tone laced with disbelief but still calm, controlled.

Before anyone could escalate further, JJ's voice rang out, sharp and exasperated. "Guys!" She stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding attention like the team's collective big sister. "Enough. Derek, put the Coney Dog down."

Derek froze mid-bite, his mouth twitching with a smirk as he slowly set the hot dog back onto his plate.

"Thank you." JJ turned her attention back to the others. "Jade, you can't mess with Spencer for fun—it's not fair. And Hotch, you can't use Spencer as a buffer to assert authority over her."

The room went silent for a moment. Jade's smirk widened slightly as she leaned back in her chair, clearly amused. Spencer, on the other hand, looked a little pouty kid, folding his arms over his chest.

JJ exhaled deeply, trying to bring some order to the chaos. "Look, I know everything's hectic. We're missing key team members again, but until we can fill those gaps, we need to figure out how to work together without tearing each other apart." Her gaze swept across the team, landing briefly on each person before coming to a stop at Jade.

The room fell into a tense silence, all of them digesting the weight of the situation. Finally, Jade broke it, her voice low and almost reluctant. "The coffee tastes fine," she muttered, like a defiant child admitting defeat.

Spencer's head snapped up, a look of surprise flickering across his face. "Really?" His voice was tinged with disbelief, as if he couldn't fathom the idea that Jade was actually admitting something positive about his coffee. He tilted his head, clearly curious.

Jade nodded slowly, unwilling to admit it fully. "I guess." She sounded like she hated every second of it. "Sorry for trying to push your buttons... doc." The last word was a little teasing, her eyes meeting his briefly before she returned to the case files in front of her.

Spencer's lips curled into a small, barely perceptible smile. "No harm done," he said, the warmth in his voice genuine but tempered by his usual restraint.

JJ shot a quick look at Hotch, whose expression was uncharacteristically conflicted. After a long sigh, he spoke, his voice low. "Sorry," he muttered, the words clearly uncomfortable on his tongue. "I didn't mean to.. make you feel that way."

Jade glanced over at him with a detached shrug. "It's whatever," she said nonchalantly, her tone not betraying any real emotion. She didn't need to add anything more—she wasn't one to indulge in long apologies.

There was a brief pause before Penelope's voice piped up over the phone, her cheery tone a stark contrast to the mood in the room. "So..."

JJ straightened, refocusing. "Right. Abuse cases?" she asked, tapping her pen against the table.

Penelope's voice shifted as she rifled through data. "Over the last five years alone... over five thousand." Her voice dropped to a somber tone. "God, the kids can't catch a break." She let out a small, disbelieving sigh, the weight of the numbers clearly hitting her hard.

Jade sighed and continued flipping through the files, muttering under her breath. "They're all so disorganized," she said, frustration creeping into her voice. "Half of them aren't even properly cataloged."

Spencer, ever the optimist (or perhaps just driven by his obsession with details), straightened up. "I found one," he said, holding up a case file and sliding it across the table to the center. "One other crime that involved a sort of carved circular motion."

Derek glanced at it, his eyebrows raising in disbelief. "Great... just what we need. A thousand more cases to sift through." He leaned back in his chair, stretching as he rubbed his eyes. "This is gonna be a long night."

Jade didn't even look up from the case file she was flipping through, her voice flat as she muttered, "Yeah, well, welcome to the job." Her tone was dry, cutting through the tension like a knife.

⭓ MICHIGAN, grand rapids ≋ 8:30 PM

   Jade stepped out into the crisp evening air, the city alive with the hum of activity. Neon signs from nearby restaurants and shops cast a colorful glow on the sidewalk, and the faint buzz of chatter filled the background. The streets weren't unfamiliar, but it had been years since she'd walked them—years since she'd last called this place home.

Now, after hours sifting through case files at the station, she was supposed to meet the team at a restaurant called the Cobalt Bistro. The problem was, she had no idea where it was, and her sense of direction wasn't what you'd call stellar.

Pulling her jacket tighter against the breeze, she sighed and glanced down at her phone for directions. She barely registered the man in front of her before colliding into him.

"Oh!" Jade gasped, stumbling slightly. "I'm so sorry—"

The man chuckled, crouching to grab her phone, which had clattered to the pavement. He handed it back to her with an easy smile.

"No problem," he said, brushing it off. "I wasn't paying much attention either."

Jade gave him a quick, polite smile, but paused, a thought striking her. "Actually—uh, do you know where the Cobalt Bistro is? It's a restaurant. Supposed to be around here somewhere."

"Oh yeah, I know it. It's pretty popular," he replied, pointing down the street. "You're close. Just head that way, take a left, and it's a couple blocks down."

"Thank you." She smiled, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

The man tilted his head, studying her for a moment. "You must be new around here."

Jade hesitated. "Not new exactly. I grew up here—or, well, in Detroit. I'm just not used to all... this." She gestured vaguely at the bustling streets, her voice tapering off.

The man's expression lit up. "No way. I'm from Detroit too," he said.

Her smile widened a fraction. "Really?"

"Yup. Small world." They shared a quick laugh, the tension in her posture easing further.

"The coney dogs are everything," he added, his tone almost reverent.

Jade snorted softly. "They really are. I used to be obsessed with them when I was a kid."

"Same here," he said with a grin, nodding. "Every weekend, without fail."

She gave him a genuine smile this time, the kind that didn't come easily. "Thanks for the directions," she said, adjusting the strap of her bag as she prepared to walk away.

But just as she turned, he spoke again. "Hey—uh, this might sound kinda weird, but... would it be okay if I got your number?" His voice was tentative but confident enough to stop her in her tracks.

Jade blinked, surprised. She glanced at him—older, maybe mid-thirties, but not bad-looking. There was a kindness in his eyes, and he didn't seem the least bit fazed by her less-than-put-together appearance. She was still in her work clothes, for crying out loud.

After a brief pause, she nodded. "Sure."

He smiled as they exchanged phones. "I'm Vincent. Vincent Kane," he introduced himself.

"Beckett," she said quickly, almost like she'd forgotten how introductions worked. "Jade Beckett."

Vincent nodded. "It's getting pretty dark. I could walk you there if you want."

Jade hesitated again, glancing around. But there was something disarming about him, so she shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

The walk was quiet but not awkward. Vincent asked a few questions—simple ones about her work, her favorite places in Detroit—and she found herself answering more openly than she expected. There was an odd sense of familiarity in the way they spoke, like they'd known each other in another life.

Before she knew it, they were standing in front of the restaurant. The large glass windows glowed warmly, the clinking of plates and cheerful conversation filtering through the air.

"This is my stop." Jade smiled, shifting on her feet. "Thanks for walking me."

Vincent returned the smile. "No problem, Jade." He lingered for a moment before stepping back. "Have a good night."

"You too," she called softly, watching as he turned and disappeared down the street.

For a moment, she stood there, staring after him. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, the familiar buzz of the team's voices pulling her back to reality.

Jade wasn't exactly unused to men asking for her number, but this one had caught her completely off guard. Normally, she could see it coming—the subtle glances, the hesitation—but this guy? Total curveball. She shook it off as she stepped into the warm, buzzing atmosphere of the restaurant. The team was already seated at a corner booth, and as soon as she approached, their gazes locked on her like she was walking into an interrogation room.

   "Met an old friend?" Hotch asked, his voice calm but carrying that faint undercurrent of amusement he rarely let slip.

   "What?" Jade blinked innocently as she slid into the seat between JJ and Reid.

   "The guy who walked you here," JJ said, casually stealing a fry from her plate.

   "Oh, that." Jade glanced around the table, feeling their eyes on her like spotlights. "No, not a friend. He bumped into me, asked where I was headed, and offered to walk me. That's it."

   Her gaze drifted to Spencer, who was eyeing her, his expression hovering somewhere between curious and unsure. She tilted her head slightly. "You don't mind, right?"

   "What?" Spencer blurted, visibly startled. For a second, his mind went to places it probably shouldn't have. Was she asking if he minded that another man walked her here? She was a coworker, not—His train of thought screeched to a halt when he realized she was gesturing toward his plate of fries and burger.

   He cleared his throat, his face slightly flushed. "Oh, um—no. Go ahead."

   Jade smiled and plucked a fry from his plate, popping it into her mouth.

   Derek leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So, let me get this straight. He just offered to walk you? Just like that?" His tone was teasing, as always.

   "Sure," Jade said with a shrug, leaning back in her seat. "Why not?"

   Derek's eyebrows shot up. "And I assume, he just happened to ask for your number too, huh?"

   JJ grinned smiled behind her drink.

   Jade gave Derek a pointed look. "He might've... casually mentioned it."

   "Oh, oh, so that's how it is." Derek grinned, sitting back and folding his arms. "Walks you down the street, all gentleman-like, because you're a pretty lady. And then—boom—he shoots his shot. Classic."

   "Shut up, Morgan," Jade said, rolling her eyes, though her lips twitched into a small grin.

   "Our girl Jade's about to line up another date." Derek leaned toward JJ with a conspiratorial smirk. "Getting some lovin' from an out-of-state man. Look at her go."

   The table chuckled, Hotch included, though he stayed focused on his meal.

   "God, you're all so nosy," Jade muttered, grabbing another fry from Spencer's plate, ignoring the way he was zoning out. "You'd think you didn't have actual jobs to do."

   "Well..." JJ shrugged with a sly smile.

   "Okay, seriously—enough." Jade pointed a fry at Derek before taking a bite.

   But Morgan wasn't letting up. "Hey, all I'm saying is, you gotta be careful giving your number out like that, girl. You don't know him."

   Jade scoffed. "It's not like I gave him my social security number."

   "Still," Derek teased, a wicked grin forming. "I mean, what would your work husband think about all this?"

   Jade froze mid-chew, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Work what?"

   "Reid," Derek said, barely suppressing a laugh.

   Spencer, who had been quietly sipping his drink, nearly choked. "Work what?" he repeated, wide-eyed.

   Derek leaned back, thoroughly enjoying himself. "Work husband. You know, the guy who's always got your back, shares his fries, walks you through all those big, scary behavioral profiles—"

   "Shut up." Jade threw a napkin at him, which Derek dodged effortlessly, laughing.

   Spencer's mouth opened, then closed as his brain frantically tried to process the teasing. "That's... not a thing. I mean, statistically, workplace relationships—or even perceived relationships—can lead to unnecessary complications in team dynamics, not to mention the possibility of... of..." He trailed off, glancing nervously at Jade, who was smiling at him.

   "Reid." Derek spoke, "I didn't tell you guys to elope, it was a metaphor." Derek assured.

   Spencer blinked, clearly still unsure if they were joking or not. Derek, meanwhile, burst into laughter, clapping him on the shoulder.

Jade threw up her hands, cutting through the teasing with a dramatic sigh. "Alright, enough of this whole work wife, work husband nonsense. I'm work hungry, okay?" She flagged down a server with a quick wave.

Morgan smirked, leaning back in his chair. "See? That's why you're Reid's work wife—always bossin' people around."

"Funny!" Jade pointed at him and spoke sarcastically. "Keep talking, Morgan, and I'll be your work nightmare real quick." JJ snorted into her drink.

The server approached, looking slightly nervous under Jade's pointed stare. "Uh, can I get you anything?"

"Yeah, a menu," Jade said, flashing a tight smile. "I just spent all day digging through case files, and if I have to eat another granola bar, I'm gonna lose it."

"Got it," the server said, hurrying off to grab one.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Granola bars? What happened to your famous stash of beef jerky?"

"Left it at the office," Jade replied dryly. "I figured you'd steal it anyway."

"Please." Morgan grinned. "You offer me jerky. You live to share with me."

"Yeah, okay, keep dreaming," Jade shot back, plucking another fry off Spencer's plate.

Spencer, who had been silently observing the back-and-forth, finally spoke up. "You know, studies show that humor in workplace interactions, particularly light teasing, can foster team cohesion and reduce stress. Although..." He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "It can also lead to a decrease in productivity if overused."

Jade smirked, leaning toward him. "Are you calling us unproductive, Doctor Genius?"

Spencer adjusted his tie, his voice soft but precise. "I'm just saying... there's a balance."

Hotch, who had been quietly eating throughout the exchange, finally spoke, his tone as dry as ever. "Reid's right. Let's try to maintain some semblance of professionalism—at least until the food gets here."

The server returned with a menu, and Jade opened it with exaggerated focus. "Alright, let's see... what's the biggest thing on this menu? I need something huge."

Morgan leaned over, peering at the menu with her. "You sure you don't want a salad, princess?"

Jade snapped the menu shut and pointed it at him. "Derek, if you say one more word—"

✸

authors note: i'm gon hold yall hands when i say this.. this is part 1 of 3 and by part 3 YOURE GONNA HATE ME HAAJAHAHHAJAAJIAIAIAKAKAKAJAJSJSJDJDJDKDKDJDJDJEJDKDKDJDJ

i literally took like 4 days figuring out this plot and no, guess what, i sort of rushed the end but im praying its not too rushed.

i thought this would be simple but guess what, it was not. so here we are.

anyways i hope you enjoy these next 2 parts. love you mwah mwah