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𝑬 𝑽 𝑬 𝑹 𝑮 𝑹 𝑬 𝑬 𝑵
❝ 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗? ❞

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ㅤ𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒.

One thing that stood out first, of course, was that another fire was set off, killing another person; this time a professor. May was terrified, not because of the fire, but because of how Gideon had reacted. She realized that maybe he hadn't really been ready for field work after all.

Then, the profile barely moved forward. Things were still confusing, and the team can't seem to figure out the unsub's motives. The typical moves of a typical arsonist didn't seem to apply to whoever was setting these fires, and it was making them all frustrated.

Now, May, Spencer, and Hotch were at the science labs.

It was quiet, and all May could think about was what she wanted to eat. She was spacing out because of this, as she stood beside Spencer. She barely even registered Hotch's words, asking her and Spencer to talk to students given their closeness in age, until Spencer started introducing himself.

"Uh, ahem, hi," Spencer stammered, looking straight at the students. May had to hold herself back from grinning; she was definitely the more extroverted between the two of them, a fact that wasn't easy to ignore. "Hi, guys, uh, my name's, uh, Dr Spencer Reid. This is Special Agent May Black," he gestured to her, to which she responded by waving lazily at the students, "We're, uh, agents with the BAU."

May, seeing Spencer's pleading look, took over, walking around the table where she and Spencer stood with a lightbulb in hand. "Yeah, that's us. And, well, since, you guys offered, how can you actually help us out?"

Jeremy, the only male student, stood up. He walked up to her and gestured to the lightbulb. "May I, please?" She handed it to him with no hesitation. "Thank you." He then began to explain. "See this? Drill a hole in the side, fill it with gasoline or whatever's good and flammable. Turn the light on. Boom." The three agents exchanged looks. "That is what went down, didn't it?"

"The stuff's all over the net," another student, a female one this time, spoke up, eyes turning to her. "Wanna know how to make a Molotov cocktail that sets itself on fire? Potassium, sulfur...and normal sugar. Sugar...sugar...which--"

"--is not exactly plutonium," Jeremy cut in. But even then, May set her focus on that one student, who weirdly enough repeated the word sugar...thrice. It didn't seem at all like she was trying to gather her thoughts, or was shy about the attention. "You could get this stuff anywhere."

"Sugar from the supermarket."

"But you don't need to be a chem major to know that," Hotch pointed out.

Looking at the student, the fire inspector with them asked, "Do you think it's a chem student?"

"You wanna know what I think?" Jeremy spoke up again. "I think...it would be a good time to take the semester off."

"Karen? Who the fuck's Karen?"

"Language," Gideon absentmindedly scolded the tall Quileute who was standing beside him, before focusing back on the audio. "Play it again."

It was the next day, and they barely made any progress yet again. But this call suddenly kicked everything into overdrive as the team all began to fit another piece in the puzzle. This time, as May was beginning to feel the heat, she wore a pair of black sweatpants, black sneakers, and a grey crop top the reached just above her belly button. Slung around her body was a black cardigan in case someone tells her off for showing a bit of skin.

"The call came from the office next to Wallace's five minutes before the fire was started," Derek informed them.

"Play it again." Gideon furrowed his brows in concentration, listening to audio as best as he could. "Again, louder."

"What is it?" Hotch asked him.

"I'm not sure. Somethin' about it."

"Wait, actually, it doesn't sound like Karen," May pointed out, pointing her finger at the speaker, attention turning to her. "Not unless they have a weird, northern European accent or something."

Gideon nodded at her a little, still deep in his thoughts.

Hotch then asked Penelope, who was on loud speaker. "Is this tape clean?"

Eventually, the team dispersed again. Spencer and Gideon headed outside, Hotch was somewhere, Elle and Derek did their interviews with all the Karens, while May found herself in the campus dining hall, enjoying three slices of four cheese pizza. She sat alone on one of the tables, when suddenly a group of kids sat with her.

She gave them a deadpan stare. "What?"

"You new here?" One of the boys asked.

"Do I look like a college student?"

All six of them nodded.

"Huh." She then shrugged. "Well, I'm not. I'm with the FBI."

"Oh wait, really?" Another male student asked, leaning forward. "Well, then...do you have the bad guy now?"

"Hey, first of all, it could be a girl. Second, I wouldn't be here anymore if we have. So, let me enjoy my three slices in peace, okay?"

A female student chuckled. "Okay, but why three?"

This made her pause, the pizza about to touch her lips. She froze for a moment, staring into space with her food still hovering before she immediately made eye contact with the student that asked her the question.

"Well, isn't that an interesting question?"

After quickly scarfing down her food and popping a gum in her mouth, May rushed to their make-shift meeting room, arriving just after everyone's done brainstorming about 'Charown'.

"The hell did I miss?" She mumbled to herself as she felt the tension in the room, before rushing to Spencer and dragging him out, ignoring her urge to laugh as he stumbled. "I had a lightbulb moment."

"A light--" But he wasn't able to say anything else as May began dragging him all-around campus. First, was at Professor Wallace's office. Barely out of breath, she wiped his ashen door sign with her fingers and pointed at the number. "Three?"

"Come on!"

She dragged him all the way to the dorms, specifically Matthew Rowland's. She pointed out their window, at the dormitory across from the one they were in.

"Third floor," he realized. By then, he was also beginning to see the patterns. Immediately, he started scanning Matthew's desk, searching for something that related to the number, only to spot his class schedule. He scanned it, before lifting it up for May to see. "Three." He took a deep breath, "Wait, there's something else too."

It was his turn to drag her out—although, May was letting him—and took her back to their meeting room, pointing at the laptop. He quickly zoomed into the doorknob. "There. Three times."

May spit out her gum directly into the trashcan in the corner of the room before turning back to give Spencer a firm nod. "We have to tell the others."

They then rushed to where Hotch and Gideon were, a room they sort of made into the office. They didn't even bother to knock before words were tumbling out of Spencer's mouth.

"We know why the profiles never fit," he announced. "You were right to tell Morgan not to rely on precedent. The fires thus far have been completely task oriented."

The two senior agents stared at them, but it was Hotch who asked, "So once they're set, the unsub's done?"

"Yes," May answered, nodding. "The unsub is not a classical serial arsonist."

"He's someone who uses fire because of a completely different disorder," Spencer spoke with a hint of elation in his tone; happy that the puzzle pieces were actually beginning to fit.

"Which is?" Gideon inquired.

"An extreme manifestation of OCD, obsessive compulsive disorder."

May crossed her arms. "He does everything in threes."

"And if we're right, he'll have to kill again."

There was silence, as Hotch and Gideon mulled over their words. The agents looked at each other, thoughts running through their mind rapidly as they thought of this new theory, wondering if it was worth looking into.

Finally, Gideon made the choice. "Alright, let's try and see if this is right."

They were now back at the meeting room, sitting in a circle.

Spencer was the first to open his mouth. "There's a form of OCD called scrupulosity."

"Religious obsession and compulsion," Hotch nodded.

"An obsessive fear of committing sin which creates so much anxiety that he's compelled to do something to ease that anxiety."

May spoke up. "Like setting fires."

Gideon was pinching the bridge of his nose in stress, eyes closed as he asked, "Where's the behavioral evidence?"

"Remember the night of the three fires?" Spencer asked rhetorically. "We saw the doorknob turning against the lock. But he's not trying to get in. He's compelled to turn the doorknob three times."

"Well, what about the fires? The first ones were single fires. If the unsub was OCD, shouldn't they have all been in threes?"

"There were in threes; a trinity of threes. The first fire occurred on March third."

"Three pm, third day, third month," May took over. "It's that convergence of threes that causes the overwhelming anxiety. Obsessive compulsiveness ease the anxiety by performing the compulsion."

Hotch frowned. "What about the other fires? Professor Wallace?"

"Office number three," Spencer answered. "I checked for more patterns of threes. His class was on Tuesdays."

"Third day of the week."

"Matthew Rowland was in that class. It was his third class of the day." It seemed as though things were finally unravelling. "I-If we looked into each of the fires, we'd find a lot of patterns having to do with threes because our minds are incredibly adept at seeking out patterns. But to the unsub, once that pattern hits--"

"He sets a fire," May and Spencer chorused. The former looked at Hotch in confusion as he stood up, seemingly needing the space to think.

Gideon sighed. "But if the target was always people, why did no one die in the first few fires?"

Spencer was the one that answered. "They were failures. Up until Matthew Rowland."

May then cleared her throat. "And...well, I think I know who it is."

That quickly got Hotch's attention, who made eye contact with her in realization. "It's not a he, it's a she."

The eldest of the bunch immediately informed the dean, who got them name of the student as fast as she could; Clara Hayes. They then set Derek and Elle out to visit Clara's off-campus apartment. The four who were left began to build the profile.

"How are you sure it's Clara?" Gideon asked both May and Hotch, who turned to each other.

The former spoke first. "When I was talking to her and her classmates, I noticed something—a ring on her finger—and she kept turning it."

"At intervals?" Spencer questioned.

"Of three."

"Well, what I noticed was when she listed the ingredients for a lightbulb bomb," May spoke up, turning away from Hotch to look at Gideon. "And then she repeated the word sugar thrice like she couldn't stop."

"Palilalia," Spencer nodded. "It's the involuntary repetition of words. Howard Hughes had it when his OCD worsened."

"Clara and her classmates were working on a project about gravitational pull," Hotch pointed out.

"The three-body problem," Gideon realized.

May grimaced. "Please don't tell me she's gonna take that literally."

"She...she actually took it literally," May stammered, before groaning into Spencer's shoulder as he prepared his chess board for him and Gideon to play. They were now back on the jet, everyone asleep except for her, Spencer, and Gideon, who was in the bathroom. They had just saved three students from being burned alive in an elevator. "I-I was just making a snide comment, but I didn't expect it to happen."

"Maybe you're psychic," Spencer chuckled, a smile pulled on his lips. "I think that would be pretty fun."

She snorted. "Knowing everything that's about to happen? I think not. I'll probably be getting killer headaches every few seconds."

He chuckled again. "You know, you're brilliant."

"I know. Thanks."

"I'm serious!" He laughed. "I mean, you're not a genius, but you're definitely on your way. You're a great profiler, and an even better speaker. I feel like you'll end up being a boss one way or another."

"Aw," she cooed, removing her head from his shoulder so she can look at him. She quickly pinched his cheek. "You're so cute. I love you."

"I love you too, now get your hands off me, I need to concentrate."

May pouted. "I wanna lie down but Derek took over the couch."

"Then ask him to scoot over. Now, leave."

She groaned, pulling his hair slightly, grinning when he let out an 'ow'. "Fine, I can tell when I'm not wanted."

"Can you?"

"Suck my dick."

May then stood up and made her way over to Derek, crossing her arms and chewing on her lower lip as she thought over how she can get him to share the couch. But much to her pleasure, he woke up as soon as she was about to touch him on the shoulder, leaning over him.

Derek smirked. "Well, isn't this a sight? If you wanted to kiss me, you could've just asked."

She glared, but didn't back down. In fact, she only leaned closer, arm on the back of the couch, her face dangerously close to his. "In your wet dreams. Now, scoot. I wanna sleep."

He chuckled. "Go ahead."

May sat as far away from him as possible, curling up to the other end of the couch, taking off her cardigan and using it as a blanket. She fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes, her breath evening out.

As soon as they landed, the entire team made their way back to their own houses. But as they dispersed, May and Derek made eye contact. The former shook her head and walked after Spencer, unwilling to talk to the man who she woke up cuddling, his arms securely wrapped around her.

She clenched her jaw as she pushed the thought away, content in pretending that it never happened in the first place. 

author's note: oh hello there :>

how yall been ????

for me personally, i've been doing great! nothing's really happening since i'm on vacation now, but my mom and i are looking into apartments i'm moving into once i start college. i'm quite excited hehe

anyways i hope u guys enjoyed <3