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Thomas Lorpin had gotten his favourite knife: long and very sharp

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Thomas Lorpin had gotten his favourite knife: long and very sharp. He ran the shiny edge across Margo's skin causing slight cuts but nothing major and rejoicing in the release of feelings the sight gave him. From the way that he was taking the torture slow and his laboured breaths Margo could tell that he was one of the guys that got some sort of sick sexual feelings from the act.

"I love cutting your skin open." He said kneeling down and pushing the knife into her thigh. "Blood falling from skin is my favourite thing in the world."

The knife was moved carefully until it rested against the womans stomach where he pressed it into her skin much more deeply, when she made a groan of pain he moved the weapon to her throat.

"I'm going to have to slit it." He decided. "Last time you didn't die when I wanted you to."

Margo gulped as tears fell down her red and swollen face; she inhaled deeply -- her last breath.

And then the door banged open fiercely.

The blonde's eyes were already clenched closed in her fear and she kept them like that even when many sounds of footsteps littered the room. It didn't seem conceivable that it could be somebody coming to help her, it could have been like a placebo in her final moments. The knife pressed deeper into her throat and she gasped at the pressure.

"We're the FBI!" Margo recognised the voice of Hotch. "Drop the knife and let go of the girl."

"I'll slit her pretty little throat if you take one step closer to me." The murderer threatened, holding her body close to his.

When Margo heard the shot she wasn't aware of who had done it or what direction it had been aimed in because of her clouded vision. She screamed. Thomas Lorpin yelled out as the bullet travelled through his shoulder, he dropped the knife that had been grasped in his hand and it sliced a line down Margo's throat.

Footsteps moved quickly towards the blonde woman. Warm hands came down on her shoulders and she flinched until she heard the comforting voice.

"Open your eyes. It's me." Spencer whispered.

Light invaded her vision unevenly and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the handsome face and messy hair. "Untie me!" She begged.

Nodding quickly he moved his hands to the rope that bound her arms and legs. As soon as she was free, Margo stood up and went to hug Spencer but her weak legs have way underneath her; before she could fall Spencer's arms shot out and grasped onto her waist steadying her and pulling her into his body. When their arms were wrapped around each other, she couldn't help but cry that she was back in safe hands.

"Where is he?" She shook looking around for her abuser.

"He's gone."

Margo hadn't really expected the team to find her even though it was their job and they were good at solving cases, she had lost all hope and had expected to die. But Spencer was there in front of her and she couldn't believe it -- remembering the live feed that had recorded her declaration of love when she had thought she was going to die her eyes widened before they latched onto Spencer's shining ones and shared a moment of pure emotion.

"Were you watching?"

"Yes."

"I meant it. I think I love you." Her heart beat wildly.

He blinked, eyelashes flicking up and then back down. "I think I love you too."

Spencer Reid was the most beautiful person that Margo had ever met and those words leaving his lips made her feel on top of the world. She raised herself up onto the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against his with a passion. It took a few seconds before Spencer put his hands on her cheeks and moved his lips against hers, both forgetting for a moment that anything bad could ever to the two of them.


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