chapter six — everything
"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." — Edger Allan Poe

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EDITED: December 7th, 2020
Tessa's POV

      THE RIDE TO THE POLICE station was full of an awkward silence, Spencer had his careful brown eyes studying the road while driving, and I was staring out the window as the scenery would appear and then disappear, and repeat over again with a new view. Again, neither of us knew exactly what to say, so we just stayed quiet.

      "So, uh, do you want a ride to the hotel tonight?" Spencer cleared his throat, focused on the road ahead of us, rather than looking at me — which I was grateful for, since I still felt utterly embarrassed for the puking incident earlier.

      "That'd be better than asking Morgan," I playfully teased, my cheeks turning a rose color as my eyes flickered from looking outside the window, over to Spencer.

      "He's just taking you to the hotel, it's not like he's asking you on a date..." I thought to myself, and a small smile crossed my face at the idea of Spencer asking me on a date, but how would work play into effect? Is that even allowed? Dating among coworkers, especially in the FBI, didn't exactly sound professional. And I've only known this man for a few days, yet there was this charm floating around my stomach, like butterflies.

      "Okay," he replied, and by now the soft smile he had played out on his lips turned even bigger, which made my grin double in size.

      After the silent ride back to the police department, Spencer and I were now in the conference room, along with the rest of the team. We all arrived back at basically the same time, but I had just enough time to make myself a cup of well-needed coffee before we had another meeting.

      "So, Rossi, Prentiss, and I talked to the families. They basically all said the same thing, blonde, very fit, went to gyms before work or went on jogs around the block," Hotch announced, nodding towards the board where pictures were now hung, and a few words were written in a white chalk.

      "So, the unsub definitely has a type, could he possibly be trying to recreate some type of person?" I suggested carefully, choosing each word with precise precision so I didn't sound wrong in the slightest. I took a quiet seat on a chair, the cushion on top of it felt quite uncomfortable, but I ignored it.

      I was still extremely nervous to voice my opinion in front of the group, since I didn't want to find out that I was wrong in front of them with disappointment, so my tone of voice sounded a bit unsure.

      I peeled open the file that was laying on the table in front of me, and reread it for the hundredth time already. After scanning it for a moment, I returned to take a quick sip of my warm sugar soaked coffee, the toasted liquid slid down my throat just perfectly and made my heart warm up — surprisingly.

      "It seems like it," Rossi agreed, nodding in my direction, which made me smile a bit, happy he seemed to agree with my statement. I adjusted my back, straightening it out, as a more confident side of me appeared.

      "There's something just not sitting right with me," I mumbled, more myself than the group, but they all seemed to pay attention anyway. "There's hate, and a lot of it. But men typically use a weapon as their source for both death and abuse. So, why would he cut their throats and not cut their body? 59% of men who kill with knives also cut their victims skin."

      Spencer nodded from across the table, and he practically looked like he was in his own little world. So, I glanced back down at the file grasped in my fingertips, and my pink lips part as I thought of an idea that could possibly explain it.

      "What if our unsub isn't male?"

      The group fell silent as each individual thought of the possibility, some muttering a 'hm' under their breath, or narrowed eyes as they thought.

      "It'd make sense," Emily shrugged, pursing her lips out as her face looked heavily in thought, she gazed up at the board with her big eyes.

     "It could explain why only women are being killed," Spencer commented, glaring through the file in his hand for more support, which I was entirely grateful for.

      "But it doesn't explain why there's so much hate," Morgan shook his head in disapproval, narrowing his eyes as he was deep in thought. "These women are fit, so this unsub must be strong enough to take them down. It sounds a bit wrong."

      "Well maybe—"

      I was suddenly cut off by the door to the conference room being swung open, where Sheriff Dan had a pale face with grim eyes. The poor older man looked completely out of breath, and I could only assume the terrible news he would soon speak.

      "There's just been another killing."

•••

      "Reid, Carter, I want you two to go to the newest victims family. Her name is Ashley Thomas, she's divorced and doesn't have any kids, and lived with her mother and father. Find out why," Hotch ordered through a swift bark, but neither Spencer nor I were going to argue. He rose up from his seat a few chairs down, and then directed his expression towards the rest of the team. "Morgan, you can join me going to the crime scene. They haven't moved her yet so we should get going. The rest of you, stay here. Now that we know the unsub is female, we have to figure out why she is murdering people."

      "Let's go, Tess," Spencer grabbed his brown bag with determination written all over his face and headed out the room. I waved goodbye to the rest of the team quickly, snatching my small black purse from the chair next to me, and followed Spencer's heels as we both exited the room.

      "Hey, hold up, Spencer, I don't have long legs like you!" I half yelled, half whispered, as the man was walking several feet in front of me. I heard Spencer laugh a bit, but nonetheless, he slowed down enough so we could walk side by side.

      "So," I started after a moment of absolute silence, almost clearing my throat as we both approached the black SUV. "Tell me about yourself, Spencer."

      Spencer unlocked the car, it making a quick ringing noise, and I peeled open the drivers side door, and jumped up into the seat. Spencer did the same exact thing, however, with the passenger side, and we both plop ourselves onto the comfortable seats while buckling our seatbelts.

      "What do you want to know?"

      "Everything," I smiled with excitement, inserting the keys from my purse into the ignition, the car starting instantly without hesitation.

      "Well, I'm not very interesting," he shrugged, almost as if he was hiding in his own skin, and he flanked from staring at his palms resting on his knees, over to me.

      "I disagree, pretty boy," I teased with Morgan's special nickname for the boy, which was pretty accurate in my opinion, and I let out a soft laugh. "What's your favourite book?"

      "That is such an incredibly hard question," Spencer answered, his eyes flickering as he bit down on his lower lip, absolutely trained in thought. "I love Shakespeare, or maybe Dickens, I have no idea. My mother read a lot of books to me when I was a kid, so, I love them all."

      "Your favorite Shakespeare play?"

      "Uh, I don't know. There's too many," Spencer replied after a hard moment of concentration, and I wanted to glance at him to see his face but my eyes were too busy focused on the road. "What's yours? Please don't say Romeo and Juliet."

      "Oh, definitely," I rolled my eyes jokingly, a small smirk played out on my lips. "Mine's Othello."

      "You're kidding," Spencer rose a single eyebrow at me, and my laugh boomed throughout the car, and only shrugged over in his direction confused.

      "It's amazing!"

      "It is, at least you didn't say Romeo and Juliet. Everyone says Romeo and Juliet," Spencer complained, rolling his eyes dramatically as he throw his arms aimlessly up in the air.

       "Because everyone had to read it in high school."

       Talking to Spencer like this was fun, it was almost as if we weren't coworkers on our way to talk to a poor victims family, but just normal friends listening and getting to know each other.

      "But there are so many good Shakespeare plays other than Romeo and Juliet. I wish we had to read Othello instead of two star crossed lovers who end up performing ritualistic suicide together in the name of love."

      "It's not a bad storyline, though. I kind of like it, but it's really overrated," I nodded a bit in agreement, biting down on my lower pink lip in concentration on the road.

      "I noticed that we talked about Shakespeare for the last fifteen minutes," Spencer spoke aloud after a moment of silence, and we both seemed to chuckle under our breath.

      "Huh, where'd the time go?"

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a/n: ah , i love them (: