Fitting In.

Gut or Elbow.

Slow piano music was playing in the background while Elora and Rossi passed the doors into the building.
"I know that I am not the richest person in the world but I highly doubt this hotel is worth the hundreds of pounds spent on one night." Her grey eyes watched all around her, doors could all be seen from the main lobby and the carts for cleaning had begun their rounds.

"I don't know. Late nights with the sound of Mozart playing in the background seems nice. The small restaurant over there has the perfect atmosphere for a date." His eyebrows lifted and the pair began to smile.

"Only, the pianist is playing Nocturne no. 2 Op. 9 by Chopin and his right hand is too far right. Probably his first time playing in such a public place and I doubt anyone will even notice. It sounds good enough, the contrast between high and low is there." Rossi had to let a glance fall onto Elora before they got to the husband's door.

Four knocks were heard and then slowly steps approached the door before finally, a dishevelled man stepped out of the room. His hair stuck on end and his clothes were clearly from the night before.

"Mr Grant. We are Special Agents, David Rossi and Elora Burton, we are with the FBI. We were wondering if you had a moment to talk to us." He didn't seem to agree or even understand but after a short while, the man opened the door and allowed the pair to follow behind him.

Alcohol littered the path and the laptop that was open showed a picture of the deceased. Her eyes shining and full of life, the same was not true of the man that she had left behind. A shell of a man who didn't seem to stop drinking.

"What can I do for you?" His voice was light and quiet. A hand was rubbing at his forehead and his tie that was barely being worn was finally pulled off.

"Take something to help with the hangover. Water is important too, drop the bottles and pick up a cup. Now, what can you remember about the day your wife passed on and did anything seem odd?" The firm sound of Rossi came through to the man and he nodded slowly. A burp leaving his throat.

"Nothing. I went to work and then when I came back, oh. She was just there. Can you tell me? Can you tell me if she suffered before he killed her?" His tears fell and the man fell onto Rossi's shoulder. Slowly the man was comforted and after a while the three-spoke some more.

"She was very clean but we also had a maid. My wife didn't know how to do the washing and she didn't need to. We had the money for help. Her office couldn't be touched unless it was a vacuum, she had to have the place look a certain way. Nothing short of how she wanted it." Three hours had slowly passed and promises of no more alcohol were made before the pair could leave.

"I will head out first. I think you two get along quite well." Her thick smile and dazzling teeth met him while all he could do was shake his head and carry on with the discussion. Elora heading down the stairs to the large lobby area. Her phone ringing and being quickly answered.

"Hey, Elora. I was wondering if he had said anything about her that could help us." There was a sudden loud commotion behind him before an audible click was heard and the room was quieter.

"She was a neat freak. The maid had to work in a particular way or they were fired. She always told them how she liked the office to be cleaned as well. They both had full access to each other. Social media was shared and their phones had pin codes that they both knew. He is really distraught. He also said something about the previous man who interviewed him. He said that the officer kept accusing him of being guilty. I think that is why he wasn't willing to help out before. He was scared to incriminate himself. What I will say is that this man has drunk himself into unconsciousness many times since the loss of his wife. I think that he's innocent." A loud clatter could be heard again and then the door was closed to seal it off. Hotch was audibly moving.

"What about what Spencer said? Killers don't start out like this. Perhaps Garcia could dig further. The killer was triggered to start now, not last year. Perhaps there was a change. Penelope mentioned a case 5 years ago, most prison sentences for a one-off assault is about 8 years and, if the judge was lenient, take away a little time for good behaviour. He could be out by now." Elora's voice was hopeful.

"I thought that we all agreed that he wasn't well trained in this." An almost command was heard but before the call could be ended Elora spoke up.

"Isn't it worth a shot? Spencer has been doing this job for a while. He feels like something is off and I may not have a belief on the matter itself but it should be worth a shot." Hotch's deep voice could be heard at a little distance before the call ended.

"Got hung up on?" A smooth voice had crept up behind Elora and her slow turn allowed her to check for Rossi. She couldn't see him leaving the room. Perhaps for a while.

"No. The conversation had ended so there was no reason to stay on the line." Eyes scanned up and down the man. His complexion was soft and his shoulders didn't slouch. Hands seemed to be soft as well. His handshake was strong, however, Elora had a stronger one.

"Firm, confident. I like it. Now, what is a lovely lady like you doing in a place like this all alone? Perhaps your mysterious caller was a man who won't be showing up here." Her head shook and the phone was placed into her pocket harshly.

"Feisty? I see a lot of people come and go from here. The feisty ones are normally the naughtiest when drunk." His posture was slowly relaxing and a gesture was made towards the bar.

"I don't drink. I haven't done for quite a few years. Now, what is it that you want? I have a feeling that it is not as innocent as you claim." As she spoke and his hand was flexed out realisation had set in her features.

"Do you finally recognise who I am? The piano player. Look, all I want is a good time." Her head shook and teeth rested on her bottom lip.

"Well, my good times look like an empty inbox. Not a pervy man in his twenties who can't even play a song as simple as Nocturne No. 2 Op. 9. Perhaps you should check the sheet again. Your right hand was a whole set wrong and your left hand was slow in parts. Also, the piano isn't just forte, some notes actually sound better when played with care." His shoulders had grown harder and his face was set into shape before he then laughed.

"You know your music. Now, what do you say about you and me getting out of here?" Her eyes had narrowed and a cocky smile was seen on his lips.

"Not if it would save the human race. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some work to do." Her eyes had caught sight of Rossi as he left the room finally.

"Don't act frigid." Elora had stood with some distance between them and as she spoke she didn't even look at him.

"I am not frigid. I have morals and I have seen my fair share of danger. Men like you can't be trusted in a world like this. Besides, if I said yes then you would call me a whore to your friends. Now, however, you will call me a bitch just because I pointed it out. Just, leave me alone before I have you charged for harassing an FBI agent who ain't got no time for your shit." As soon as the words lift her lips Rossi arrived and the pair left a stunned brunette in their wake.

"What happened there?" Her head shook and the pair walked to the car, heading back to the station.

"I want to know what the pair of you were talking about and how Mr Grant managed to let you go so easily." The engine began and the scene around them began to shift away.

"Hotch called. He said that the lead you and Spencer picked up on had been caught. Harry Flower is currently being brought in. Hotch said that Reid believes that it is him and although we don't have a profile yet, it seems good." There was a pull in his voice and Elora only quirked an eyebrow and he gave in.
"The rest of us aren't so sure. He got out six months ago. Why start now and how did he have access to the homes?" Despite his choice of words and hopeless questions, a pull was felt. Elora was sure that Spencer must have known something she didn't.

"Well, do we know what he has been up to in the past six months? Most prisons also have a scheme to teach them new skills. Did he take part?" Rossi shrugged and his hand moved to change the way that they were going. A slip road being travelled on.

"I know Spencer has been a profiler for a while but until we sit him down and ask him questions. We won't know anything." Elora had nodded before they were almost at the station.