I've been wanting to do a Criminal Minds and Royal Pains crossover for quite a while now, so here it is. This is looking to be roughly eight chapters, but my estimates never turn out accurate, so we'll see as we go along. Reviews are always welcome! Tell me what you think, or I'll just assume everyone is thinking of ostriches. (It's what I think about.)
SSA Aaron Hotchner leaned back against his chair, stretching his back after filling out an insane amount of paperwork. He'd be so much happier if paperwork didn't need to be filed, but he also understood the necessity of it. Agent Jennifer Jareau gently knocked on his door, drawing Hotch's attention from his desk. "We've got a case."
"Okay, get everyone gathered," Hotch commanded, gathering a couple papers and organizing the piles they had been placed in.
JJ was half out of the door, before she turned back to her boss. "Hey, where's Reid?" she asked, confusion creasing her brow. Spencer Reid rarely missed a day of work and had had to be forced into sick leave after his kidnapping and battle with anthrax. Even then, he ended up sneaking back into the BAU a week early to help with a case.
"He's taking the day off," Hotch explained.
"Did he say why?" JJ asked.
Hotch shook his head. "No, but he'll be back tomorrow. You can ask him then."
JJ nodded to herself, leaving Hotch's office to gather her fellow FBI agents. She made a mental reminder to ask Reid what was going on the following day.
Spencer Reid made his way down the boardwalk, very grateful for his sunglasses. It was bright out, the sun gleaming in the cloudless sky. The water, conspiring with the sun to blind people, was reflecting the sunlight off of its waves, flashes of light catching Reid's eyes. He examined the crowd, suddenly unsure that he'd even be able to recognize his old friend. It had been twelve years. Twelve years and suddenly a phone call out of the blue.
The call came from his left and Reid quickly turned, suddenly finding himself in a bone-crushing hug. Not really one for human contact, Reid awkwardly patted his old friend on the back. "Evan, how are you doing?"
Evan Lawson was probably about two inches shorter than his younger friend, but his exuberant personality made up for the height difference. He had curly brown hair that bounced with his excitement.
"Pretty good. How about you?" Evan stepped back, grinning wildly. "Man, it's been forever since I've seen you. How long has it been? Glad to see you've outgrown your dorky sixteen year old mullet. And you got super tall, too. Wow, man. What have you been up to?"
Reid grinned at the barrage of questions, realizing that he actually had missed his college buddy. "I'm good. It's been twelve years. And I work for the FBI now."
Evan's eyes widened significantly. "Are you serious? That's amazing man. And how old are you now, twenty-seven?"
"Twenty-eight," Reid corrected.
"Man, you make me feel old," Evan complained. "I was trying to convince myself that thirty was still young. But, look at you. Skinny as ever."
Reid laughed. "It's actually probably due to my metabolism, which actually—"
Evan cut his friend off. "And still spouting facts. You haven't changed much, have you?" Evan smiled. "It's good to see you again, Spencer."
"Yeah, about that," Reid began, "why did you text me? You said you needed my help?"
Evan immediately sobered. "You want to get some food? Joe's Crab Shack is just over there. We can talk over crab," Evan suggested.
"Sounds great," Reid acquiesced.
Once the two friends were situated at a picnic table, meals in front of them, Evan began to speak. "You're the smartest guy I know," Evan told his friend. "You're a genius, don't even try to deny it. My brother, Hank, he's a concierge doctor out here. He does a lot of good. Anyway, he's received two threats."
"Did you take it to the police?" Reid asked around his mouthful of crab.
"Yeah, but they said not to worry."
"And you're still worried?"
Evan looked indignant. "Well, yeah, he's my brother." He set his crab down. "I don't know, Spencer. I just… It just feels real."
Reid shrugged. "It is important to trust your intuition." He took another bite of the crab before continuing, "Do you have the threats with you?"
Evan frowned sheepishly. "Actually, I forgot them at home. I only realized after I had arrived here and I didn't want to head back and miss you and then you just head back to wherever the heck you're living now. But, if you're willing, we could just go back there and take a look at the notes."
"Yeah, that's fine. I've got nothing better to do," Reid admitted. "I took the day off of work."
"Fantastic! I can show you around the Hamptons."
Reid got his own personalized tour of the Hamptons on the way to Boris' garden house, where Evan resided. Evan pointed out the rich and richer people and told Reid tales of alcohol poisoning and broken limbs. Reid laughed at Evan's antics and hilarious tales of Mrs. Newburg; he hadn't had this much fun for quite a while. It was nice to have a friend that he trusted, that he could be himself around and not have to worry about keeping up appearances. Reid had been worried that, after twelve long years, he would not know how to act around Evan, but his friend had a personality that allowed anyone to feel comfortable in his presence.
Eventually, they arrived at Boris' mansion. "You live here?" Reid asked, examining the large expansive house.
"I wish," Evan responded. "Hank and I live in his garden house. It's plenty spacious, but it isn't mansion spacious."
"Few things are," Reid agreed.
Evan showed Reid around his house, pointing out the most important aspects, such as the fridge and microwave. Reid was really interested in the connecting room filled with all of Hank's medical equipment. "How does this concierge doctor business work?" Reid asked.
Before Evan could explain the family business, Hank entered. "Evan?" he called out, "I have a meeting with a client in a half hour, if you want to come and see if you could get another retainer." He paused mid-step, catching sight of Reid. "Oh, I'm Hank Lawson, Evan's older brother."
Reid extended his hand as Evan introduced him. "Hank, this is Dr. Spencer Reid."
Hank's eyebrows raised slightly. "Dr.? What's your specialty?"
"Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering." Hank blinked at Reid in slight confusion. "I'm not a medical doctor," Reid added in explanation.
Hank cocked his head slightly. "Three PhDs? How old are you?"
"Twenty-eight," Reid admitted.
"He's a genius, certified and everything," Evan explained proudly.
"Yeah?" Hank asked. "Then why in the world are you hanging out with my idiot brother?"
"Hey," Evan complained. "For your information, we met at MIT and became friends then."
Hank shot Reid a strange look. "MIT? Evan was there over ten years ago. That would have made you," he paused, trying to do the math.
"Sixteen. I was sixteen when I met Evan."
"It's really a funny story," Evan said, sitting at the table and gesturing for Reid to sit across from him. As Evan began his story, Hank poured out three glasses of water and leaned against the counter, settling himself for Evan's story. "This was back when I was a freshman at MIT. We were a few months into the fall semester and I was going to the Barker Library to do some research for one of my Comp Sci classes. I ended up running into Spencer and a group of guys in the hallway. They were teasing him and shoving him around. I did what any good person would have done and I told the guys to back off. Honestly, I don't think I scared them off. I mean, I was just a little freshman. The security guard that happened to come down the hallway probably did the trick. Anyway, we went to the Stream Café. We became friends over this killer soup they serve there."
Reid muttered softly, "I could have handled myself."
Evan nodded. "I'm sure you could have, but I wanted to help." He turned to Hank, continuing, "Anyway, now Spencer's an FBI agent. So," here, he hesitated, glancing at Reid, then back at Hank, "I was hoping he could take a look at those threats you received."
"That's what this is about?" Hank exclaimed, slightly indignant. "Evan, nothing's wrong. The police said it was just a practical joke from some stupid teenager."
"If it's alright by you, I'd like to take a look at it anyway. Just to make sure," Reid interrupted, before the two brothers could get at each other's throats. "I'm a profiler in the Behavioral Analysis Unit, BAU for short," he added.
Hank nodded. "Fine. If it will get Evan off of my back, I'll do anything." He left the room, returning with two small sheets of paper in his hand. "Here," he said, handing the papers to Reid.
Reid quickly scanned the notes. One threatened Hank, commanding him to leave the Hamptons or "regret everything." The other merely informed Hank that he would pay dearly. Reid reread the notes, not knowing how Evan would react to his next words. "I don't think there's cause to worry," he said softly, avoiding Evan's eyes.
"What? What do you mean?" Evan asked angrily. "Someone is threatening my brother and you're telling me not to worry about it?"
"Well, if you look at the notes, the first thing you notice is that a threat isn't actually specified."
"So?" Evan asked, folding his arms against his chest. "Maybe they just want to inspire fear or leave us wondering."
"Not usually. Often, if there isn't an action specified it is because it's an empty threat." Reid looked up at Hank and Evan. "This is a good thing, Evan. It means that your brother is safe. You don't need to be worried about anything."
Evan shook his head. "You know when you get that strange feeling in your gut? You feel like you need to vomit, but you're not sick. You just know that something bad is going to happen. I have that feeling. This isn't fake."
Reid shrugged, setting the threats on the table. "They look fake."
Before Evan could respond or Hank could reassure his brother, a scream reverberated through the house. "Help me!" a man screamed. "My daughter!"
Hank immediately grabbed his medical bag and dashed out of the house. Evan was right behind him, with Reid trailing close behind. Outside their house, on the gravel driveway, an older man crouched beside a still girl, her blonde hair splayed out behind her head. "I'm a doctor," Hank explained, crouching beside the man.
"I know," the father admitted. "I was taking her to get her checked up, but when we got here she ran and tripped and hit her head. I didn't want to move her; I heard you weren't supposed to do that."
Hank nodded tersely. He quickly began examining the young girl, but when he tilted her head slightly to see if she was bleeding, the girl grinned, giggling a little. "What?" Hank muttered, sitting back on his heels. He turned to the father, only to find himself face to face with a gun.
Seeing the weapon, Reid immediately reached for his gun, only to remember that he had left his gun back in his car. He hadn't thought that he would need a gun. Now, he really wished that he had kept it on him anyway.
"What are you doing?" Evan exclaimed. "I'll call the police," he threatened.
"I wouldn't, if I were you." The deep voice came from behind them. Upon turning around, Reid and Evan discovered another man there with his own gun. He was taller than Reid, with a dusky skin tone and dark eyes.
"Look, I'm sure we can just talk this out," Evan suggested, holding his hands out in supplication.
The man simply growled, "Get in the car." He gestured to the minivan a couple of feet away.
Evan gaped at the man, "You're kidnapping us? Is that what this is?"
"Evan…" Hank warned softly.
"No, Hank, this is crazy. This doesn't happen. Not to people like us."
"Actually, statistics show that—" Reid began, but was cut off when the second man with the gun turned to him.
"And who are you?" he asked, carefully pointing the gun at Reid's chest.
Reid swallowed, trying to ignore the gun trained on him. "I'm a friend. Evan and I knew each other in college. We were just getting lunch together. Catching up, you know." His eyes flicked up to the man, wondering what he would do if he discovered that he was an FBI agent. All sorts of unfortunate deaths flashed through Reid's mind.
"Seems like today was your unlucky day," he growled. He then held out his hand. "Phones," he commanded.
Reid carefully pulled out his phone, grateful that the man wasn't patting him down. He'd surely discover his badge if that happened. Evan and Hank followed suit and soon all three cell phones were in the pocket of the darker man. "Get in the van," he said, gesturing with his gun.
Reluctantly, the three men made their way to the minivan. Reid's brain was whirling as he attempted to come up with some sort of way for them to escape, but nothing was coming to mind. Very self-conscious of the guns trained on his back, Reid decided that the best route of action was to obey the two men's orders. Hopefully, there'd be a chance for escape once they reached their destination.
The older man, with graying hair, gently helped the young girl up, dusting the dirt off of her pink dress. "Come on, princess. We're going back home," he told the young girl.
"Yay!" she exclaimed, bouncing up and down a little. "Are your friends coming?"
"They are, honey. We're going to play some very interesting games with them."
The little girl's tinkling laughter echoed through the empty courtyard.