Chapter 3- Fresh Out of College

Seven o'clock that night and we hadn't gotten much farther on the case.  We were all gathered in the conference room, trying to work on the preliminary profile.  All we had was a young attractive male in his twenties, confident and probably with his own vehicle, which described a quarter of the college students in the area. 

Needless to say, it wasn't much to go on, and we all sat around the conference table littered with crime scene photos and fast food wrappers with little idea as to what we were missing or what to do to find what we were missing so we could catch this guy.  And we were running out of time.  There had been months between the first two victims, weeks between the second and third, which meant we had days to catch this guy before he killed again.

Hotch and Rossi came in, and Hotch announced, "McDowell and Reid, you two are going to go undercover as college students."

Just like that, plain and matter-of-fact, and I demanded shocked, "What?"

Reid voiced the same opinion as me, though perhaps a little more politely since he said at the same time as me, "I'm sorry?" like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"The best way to get more information on this unsub and his motives is to have agents in the nightclub where the other victims were last known to be.  You and Reid will fit in the best as college students, so you two are doing it," Hotch explained in a voice that meant his decision was final. 

I still couldn't resist arguing.

"Why can't JJ and Morgan do it or something?" I protested, partly because I didn't want to give Garcia another chance to prove her theory and partly because when I had been in college,  I hadn't exactly been the 'party at the club' type girl.

"If you haven't noticed, JJ's a mom, not fresh out of college," Morgan pointed out with a smirk.

"I may be right out of college, but that doesn't mean I'm all too thrilled at the opportunity to go back," I answered sulkily.

I had been pushed ahead a year in grade school so I graduated high school a month after I'd turned 17, which means I was done with college only a month after I had legally been allowed to drink, and after a brief stint with Virginia PD--which I got fired from because I had a code of ethics and my commanding officer didn't--I had joined the BAU.  I really was fresh out of college, but I wasn't what you could call a normal student even when I was in college, much less now.

Hotch's glare was enough to make me accept it, though, and he commanded, "Both of you, go get ready.  We're running short on time if we want to catch this guy."

With a sigh I obliged, turning to Garcia, JJ, and Prentiss and remarking sullenly, "I might need to borrow some clubbing clothes."  I'm sure one of them was bound to have them, but not me since the punk style I was still into wasn't exactly of the slutty variety common in college girls.

Which is how fifteen minutes later the three of them had laid out three different outfits in one of the unused offices that was being transformed into my dressing room.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to give you a fashion makeover," Garcia exclaimed, and somehow only she could make it not sound like the insult it could quite easily be taken as.

I still took it as an insult though and protested, "I've only been here a month!"

"Exactly," JJ insinuated, scrutinizing the outfit I was wearing today.  Dark skinny jeans, my combat boots, and a deep red cap-sleeved V-neck tee since I had to look somewhat professional for this job, as I had learned.

"I don't need a fashion makeover," I made a lame attempt to argue, because the sparkly, clingy outfits had caught my attention and I already felt too exposed even though I wasn't even wearing them yet.

"Too bad, McDowell.  You're getting one," Prentiss told me as she tossed the first of the three at me to try on. 

A clingy silver belly-button shirt with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline paired with a tight black ultra-mini skirt and silver stilettos was disappointingly the least revealing of the three, so that's what I wore.  Garcia, JJ, and Prentiss wouldn't even let me wear my leather jacket to cover up, so it looks like I was just going to freeze to death.

"I'm going to kill you all," I threatened grudgingly before heading out into the lobby of the BAU to meet Reid. 

Who was still wearing his usual button-up, sweater vest, tie, and dress pants.

I sighed and face palmed, shoving a stray curl out of my face--Garcia had done my hair, too-- before looking up at Reid and saying, "I know you probably haven't had much experience with clubbing, and I'm no expert either, but at least I know you can't wear something like that.  The bouncer probably won't even let you in because your clothes scream Fed," I pointed out.

"But--" he protested, but Morgan just shook his head and chuckled, "I told you, Reid."

"Okay, get rid of the sweater vest," I commanded.  Reid stared at me dumbfounded for a second before he hurriedly pulled it over his head at my glare.

"Ditch the tie," I instructed, reaching up and loosening it from around his neck, and he hurriedly pulled that over his head, too.

"And roll up your sleeves," I added, feeling like I was telling a three-year-old how to get dressed in the morning.

"Why?" Reid asked.

"Because every guy looks ten times hotter with his sleeves rolled up," I answered boredly before realizing what I'd just said.  To him.  Not that that meant anything, he was too tall and lanky to be considered 'hot' no matter if his sleeves were rolled up or not.

Prentiss just agreed, "She's right," and JJ nodded, but Garcia looked like she was planning something evil.  Damn it.

Morgan furrowed his brow at all of us, but I knew girls were just as confusing to guys as guys were to girls, so there was no point in explaining.

"Untuck your shirt," I gestured to his waist, "And borrow some black jeans from Morgan.  The shoes are fine though," I remarked, glancing at his classic black and white Chucks.  I had a pair just like that back at my apartment, they were imperative for the hipster college kid look I was, essentially, giving Reid.

I stepped back and scrutinized his outfit like JJ had done to me mere minutes ago and then took a step forward, reached up, and messed up his already disastrous hair that had been neatly combed this morning.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted JJ smirking and Garcia practically bursting from trying to contain her glee at self-fulfilling prophecy, but everyone else kind of just stared at me like I was a foreign animal.  Apparently it wasn't okay for me to mess up his hair for a purpose even though Morgan did it all the time just to annoy him? 

"Pants.  Go, now," I snapped at Reid, shoving him on the shoulder towards Morgan.

They both gave me a curious look but then Morgan remarked, "Come on, kid," and Reid followed him back into the bullpen where Morgan's go bag with extra clothes for Reid to borrow in it was, most likely.

"Looks like we know who holds the cards in this relationship," Prentiss teased.

"How many times do I have to tell you--" I started angrily, but Rossi cut me off.

"Acting a little too soon don't you think, McDowell?" he questioned.

Now he was in on it, too?

"I apologize for not wanting my fake date to look like a geeky FBI agent and blow our cover," I replied bitterly, emphasizing the 'fake'.

"I was right.  I was so right, you've got a crush on Dr. Spencer Reid," Garcia gloated at me, but a glare from me and a warning look from Hotch that meant 'be professional' was enough to shut her up with a meek, "Sorry, sir," directed at Hotch, and then she headed off to her little computer sanctuary, I'm assuming.  I had yet to see it other than in the background when she video-called us when we were on the plane.

We all turned our attention to the muffled argument we could hear through the glass doors of the bullpen.  Reid and Morgan were arguing quite animatedly about something--we couldn't hear what they were saying, just that they were disagreeing on something. 

I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that it was me, and I was already wishing for this night to be over and trying to convince myself that the squirming in my abdomen was just nerves cause I had never gone undercover before.

I hoped to god Reid knew what he was doing despite all evidence to the contrary, cause I was at even more of a loss.