Unknown- A Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 4- Frat Girl

I stepped into the club and was immediately assaulted by the noise, flashing lights and bass pounding through the floor underneath my highly-uncomfortable shoes.  Reid came in behind me, surreptitiously pocketing his badge.  The bouncer had asked for ID--apparently Hotch was right, we were young enough to be mistaken for underage college students and not a 22-year-old FBI agent and her 25-year-old partner going undercover--but an FBI badge was enough to convince him otherwise, regardless of if it would potentially blow our cover or not. 

I sincerely hoped not, any one of the other girls at this club tonight could be another potential victim if we didn't catch this guy before two a.m. when the Starfire closed.

Reid stuck close behind me as we pushed our way through the crowd to the bar and I ordered us two beers. 

He gave me a look, but I just reminded, "Undercover?" under my breath so the people crowded next to, behind, and all around us wouldn't overhear.  That was probably pretty unlikely, though, considering the noise level in here.

He sighed but took one of the bottles of beer from the bartender and took a small sip, and I did the same.  I wasn't stupid enough to risk people's lives, and potentially my job, on being even slightly inebriated, and beer at only 4-6% alcohol wasn't very inebriating unless you had a lot. Considering I liked beer even less than I liked coffee, I think we'd be okay because Reid didn't strike me as the type to enjoy alcohol of any kind, either.

We left the bar, drinks in hand, and began glancing around the club for any suspicious activity.  In all the commotion with the flashing lights being the only thing to brighten the dim interior, it was kind of hard to see anything other than a surging mass of people, so I started running through what I knew.

The unsub would pick out girls that were alone, so they'd probably be standing off to the side, maybe at the bar by themselves, girls that were looking for a guy like the unsub to be their next one night stand or prospective boyfriend.  They'd look a little lost, most likely nervous but probably feigning confidence...

I spotted three different girls that would fit the victimology, one by the bar, one on the dance floor, and one off to the side that a young man had just approached.

"Reid," I said to get his attention.  He turned to me, and I pointed out, "The brunette by the bar, the one in the blue dress in the middle of the dance floor, and one in the far corner.  I'm going over there," I informed him before meandering through the crowd to get a closer look at the girl who had just been joined by a guy. 

Clearly, they were introducing themselves, and I watched out of the corner of my eyeshadowed and mascaraed eyes, only to have another guy come up to me and ask me to dance.  My first instinct was to decline, but then the voice inside my head reminded we were undercover, which was all about blending in. 

I had always hated blending in growing up, thus I wasn't very good at it, but tonight I was a college girl out for a good time with her friend, so I smiled and offered an easy, "Sure," and let him lead me to the dance floor.

As we spun around to a slower-beat pop song, I kept the girl and boy in my field of vision.  When a new song with a more energetic beat started playing, I danced along with the guy in front of me who was now trying to get my number. 

I just shouted over the noise, "I can't hear you!" and gestured to my ears so he'd understand me, but then he motioned for me to follow him off the dance floor.  I followed because the direction he was heading was towards the boy and girl talking off to the side.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" I panted, out of breath but trying to sound cheery.  Looks like I'd have to suggest they add cardio for club dancing into the BAU field training regimen.

He smiled and said, "I was going to ask for your number."

I smiled apologetically and replied, "Sorry, but I don't really have a permanent number right now.  My phone got as trashed as me at a frat party last weekend and I haven't had a chance to get a new one yet.  Tell you what, though, Sam," I somehow managed to remember his name when he'd introduced himself before we'd started dancing, "Why don't you give me your number, and when I get a new phone, I'll give you a call?" I asked brightly, attempting to flirt.

Over the back of his head, I could see our potential suspect and his victim talking, their heads bent together over a table as he twirled a lock of her hair around one of his fingers.  She definitely liked him, she couldn't look away and she was tittering like a--well, like a drunk college girl.  The guy wasn't acting too suspicious yet, though, aside from feigning cocky confidence, but that was typical.

"Lilly?  Lilly, did you hear me?" Sam asked, and I snapped my attention back to him.  Yes, my college frat girl name was a flower, but it's not like I was stupid enough to give him my real name.

"Sorry, what'd you say?" I asked sweetly.  Inside, I was gagging at how ditzy I sounded.

"I asked if I could buy you a drink," he replied, his voice low in an attempt to sound romantic or something, I'm assuming.  I may be good at profiling, but I didn't know everything about how men flirt based on their tone of voice.

I was about to tell him no thanks, I'd already had a few too many because it looked like the canoodling suspect and victim were getting ready to get out of there when Reid came over by me.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" he asked me, his eyes flitting surreptitiously to the two people I'd had my eye on the whole night.

"Lilly, who is this?  I didn't realize you came here with someone," Sam asked me, suddenly defensive.

"Oh, no Sam, he's not my boyfriend," I hurried to correct him.  

Best lies told in truth, right?  Regardless of what Garcia and the rest of my coworkers thought. 

"This is my cousin, Matt.  His girlfriend just broke up with him so I dragged him out with me tonight," I made up a cover story on the spot. 

From my experience, it was usually better to come up with a cover story in the moment rather than have one established ahead of time. It sounded more real and less rehearsed, therefore it would be more believable.   

"Nice to meet you, Sam," Reid said, offering his hand to shake.

Sam nodded and accepted the greeting, shaking back and then remarking, "If you're looking to get over your break-up, you might want to stay around a little longer, see if you can get a catch," to Reid in that weird--and frankly offensive--way guys had when talking about women.

Reid glanced at me and panic flashed in his eyes, and it was then that I realized the 'couple' I'd been watching for the past hour--potentially our unsub and victim number four--were quickly escaping.

"We would love to," I gushed with a bashful smile, "But Matt here has a quantum physics test tomorrow morning and I promised to help him study.  If I don't, he might flunk out and then Aunt Cas and Uncle Bert will probably disown him," I pulled two names out of the bass pounding through the air, grabbing Reid's arm and heading towards the side door that had just been shoved open, sending a slice of fresh air into the sweltering club.

Sam nodded as he frantically scribbled something down on a napkin and then handed it to me, replying, "Give me a call, frat girl," in what I'm assuming was supposed to be a flirtatiously teasing way.

"Thank you.  Really, I had a great time," I said with a grin as I walked backwards towards the side door before the swarming crowd swallowed Sam from view.

Reid and I shoved our way through the pulsing mass of bodies and burst outside, only to hear a scream and the frantic scrabbling of heels on asphalt as the girl's bare legs disappeared around a corner.