Chapter Text
You were jarred awake by the jet’s landing gear bouncing off the tarmac. Blinking to clear the sleep from your eyes, you were met with the pleasant sight of Dr. Spencer Reid, a fellow agent and team member. He didn’t look up from what he was reading, his fingers scanning the pages quickly. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and you watched him focus, his mouth moving impossibly fast as he read the words on the page. It seemed to take immense force to pull your eyes away, and they wandered around to Rossi and Morgan sitting across the aisle.
“Nice nap?” inquired Rossi gently. You smiled back in response and straightened in your seat.
You glanced down at the file on the table in front of you. A young woman only a few years younger than yourself stared at you from the first page. She had been kidnapped, held for three days before being raped and murdered, then discarded like trash behind a dumpster. There were three women’s pictures and information about their cases below hers. All beautiful, young, smart brunettes that had died far too early. You flipped through the pages. They all had ligature marks on their neck, but there was a strange bruise at the center of their neck that were unaccounted for. Your brow crinkled in frustration as you racked your brain; something about the bruises seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite grasp exactly what it was.
You looked up to find Reid watching you, having paused reading for a moment. He had a strange smile on his face.
“What?” you asked, subconciously returning the smile.
“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”
“You can get wrinkles from smiling, too, genius,” you crinkled your nose at him. “I just-“
The monitor at the front of the paged switched to an image of Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst and possibly one of your favorite people to ever exist. She had bleach blond hair, curled to perfection and adorned with a sparkly bow. Her lips were hot pink.
“Hello, my pretties. Got an update. Just tracked down the name of our latest victim. Her name is Rachel Allen. She is 34, lived on her own, and her parents are deceased. Steady man-friend, but I can’t tell if they’re official yet. Not much of a social life otherwise as far as I can see. I’m sending her address to your phones along with the boy toy’s info.”
The plane was coming to a stop as everyone’s phones announced that they had received the promised information. Hotch stood up. “Garcia, have you found any connections between the four victims?”
“If there are, I’ll find them and their little dog too! Until then…” there was a click, and the screen changed back to an image of a map.
“Okay, Derek and Prentiss, head over to the crime scene. JJ and Dave, I want you to check out the address that Garcia just sent us, I’ll send the local officers over to help you out. Y/n and Reid, you’re with me. We’re going to head to the station and see if we can contact the… friend.”
*****
The station looked like every other station you had seen in your year and a half with the bureau. Hotch introduced the two of you and you were shown to your workstation for the next few days. While Hotch spoke with the detective assigned to the case, you and Dr. Reid set up the room. Pictures, maps, victims, everything was taped up to a window, which would act as a makeshift white board. The boyfriend was out of town and had been since well before the murder. Spencer stepped back to look at your handiwork, which had only taken a little over an hour.
You crossed your arms and sighed, “Now we wait.”
Spencer cleared his throat. “This is my least favorite part.” You looked over at him. He was squinting at the board as if he were having trouble seeing, but you knew he was just concentrating. You watched as he rubbed the underside of his chin with his thumb, his pointer finger absentmindedly rubbing against his bottom lip. The corners of your lips quirked up… the boy genius was cute when he was concentrating. He glanced at you, then realized you were staring and dropped his hand.
“What?”
“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning,” you mocked his statement from the plane, trying to hide the fact that you just got caught gawking.
“Hey, I don’t sound like that!”
You laughed, “I dOn’T sOuNd LiKe tHaT!”
He pointed a finger at you and stepped closer. “You know-“
Morgan walked in holding his phone in front of him, “If you two are done flirting, I’ve got Penelope on the other line.” Reid opened his mouth to protest but Derek spoke over him, “Whatcha got, Baby Girl?”
“Well, my hunk of burning love, a connection, perhaps. All four victims frequent the same club. It’s called the Red Chamber, and my MY… shield your young ears. Supposedly there is a super secret area in the back that is used as lifestyle club.”
Your eyes widened immediately. “A lifestyle club?” Hotch asked.
“Sounds like the establishment uses the back room for their guests’ illicit acts.” Emily hinted.
“Like prostitution?” asked Morgan, frowning.
“Not usually,” I said, catching Emily’s eye. She looked at her lap and smiled. She knew your… tendencies. “They’ll pay an entrance fee, similar to a cover at a bar, but they’re not having sex with prostitutes. Generally they have sex with each other. Swinger’s clubs are common. There are also masturbation clubs and kink clubs.”
Rossie and JJ chose that exact moment to walk into the room. “Looks like I missed a fascinating conversation,” Rossi said, pulling up a chair.
“The Red Chamber specializes in kink, specifically BDSM. However, try as I might, I can’t seem to find any more information. Apparently, it is very exclusive. As in, only an invite from the owner or the manager can get you in. Their information is being sent to your phones as we speak.”
You zoned out as Rossi and Morgan explained what they discovered, which unfortunately wasn’t much. Your eyes drifted to the pictures of the women. You stood up and moved closer, examining each.
“Care to share with the class?” came Rossi’s voice from behind you. You turned around.
“Look at the ligature marks. Could those marks be made by collars?”
Reid joined you at the window. “This strange circular bruise in the center… this could be the ring that you see in a lot of collars.” You looked at him. How many collars had he seen?
“You’re thinking they were strangled by a collar?” JJ asked.
“Not a collar, their collars. These women could be submissives, garroted with the collars given to them by their Dominants.” Reid gestured to the photos, “Each ligature mark is different, this one is so thin that it cut into the skin.”
“No collars were found at the crime scenes,” Derek pointed out.
“Trophies?” I suggested.
“Probably. So, what do you think, he’s raping them and claiming them by taking their collars?” Rossi said, looking up at us.
Reid turned to face him, “Actually, I think he might be aiming this at the Dominants. What could be more disrespectful than raping their submissives? Murdering them with the collars that represent their loyalty?”
Hotch frowned and closed the file sitting in front of him. “We need to get into that club. Garcia, can you get us in? ”
“That’s gonna be a no from me, dawg. Sorry, Sir. I’ve been trying to find anything, anything at all and there is nothing. Zilch, nada, NOTHING. They could be going old school, nothing but paper records.”
“Wouldn’t be hard if the only way to get in is through an owner or manager,” JJ said.
“We still haven’t heard from the boyfriend… We could wait to see what he has to say,” Prentiss offered.
“If he has disposed of his latest victim, he may be searching for a new one. We don’t have any time to waste.” Hotch stated. Right, as usual.
Everyone knew what needed to be done. You just didn’t understand why they were all looking at you. You turned, and Reid was no different. He pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders, then shrugged towards the board. “You do bear a significant resemblance to his other victims.”
“Don’t get cocky, pretty boy. You’re going in with her,” said Derek with a chuckle.
“Sweet Dr. Reid?” Prentiss snorted. “Why not you?”
“Derek knows he can’t handle this.” I joked.
He scoffed, but otherwise ignored me. “We need someone that isn’t a threat.”
“Additionally, it’s quite common for those that are submissive in their everyday life to have a more dominant personality in their sexual encounters.” Reid stated, placing his hands in his pockets.
Everyone was silent for a moment. Personally, you were thinking about what he had said and what it implied. You silently hoped that the warmth creeping into your cheeks wasn’t noticeable.
“I guess I’m going to need a collar.”