A/N: thank you so much for 1k views you guys!!!

"Hello, Cheryl. How are you?"

She glanced over to Elle, who smiled comfortingly. "I'd be a lot better if I knew that my sister...that Patricia's ok," she answered shakily, her eyes watering.

"I can tell you have a lot of empathy, Cheryl. You care about others."

Cheryl nodded vigorously. "Yes, I do," she promised him. "And it sounds like you understand."

"You mean that I empathise?"

She glanced over at Elle uncertainly, and Jodi couldn't help but find the choice of that exact word strange. They'd used it when directing her. "Yes."

"I do. Very much. I empathise. I empathise with you, Cheryl. I know you want to be with your sister."

Elle frantically scribbled a sentence down on a notepad and held it out to her. The lettering was so big even Jodi could read it from where she was standing; YOU WANT TRISH BACK

"Yes," she agreed unevenly. "I want Trish back."

"Good. Tell me what you want, Cheryl. I'm very interested. Tell me all about yourself. What's your favourite colour?"

Elle pressed hold. "Don't answer that," she instructed. "Stay with Trish."

"If I tell you, will you let me talk to my sister?" Cheryl asked shakily.

He laughed. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Cheryl choked back a sob, and Jodi felt her heart crack the slightest bit. "I like blue."

"How ordinary. Do you like chocolate, Cheryl?" She glanced over at Elle uneasily, her bottom lip quivering. "Do...you...like...chocolate?"

"Yes."

"I do as well."

"Please, let me talk to my sister," she whimpered, and a long pause followed it, and Jodi felt her heart stop. "All I want to do is hear her voice. Please. Hello?"

But a girls voice replaced the mans, though it was weaker and sounded more slurred than his had. "Cher..."

"Trish!" She gasped out in relief.

"Cher, is that you?"

"Trish, it's me. I'm here," she promised. "Are you ok?"

"Cheryl...I can't..."

"Where are you? What do you see?" She demanded urgently, hands trembling on the surface of the table.

"I...I see the moon."

"Trish!" She bellowed out, terrified. "Trish!"

"Have 500,000 ready," the man's voice instructed again.

"Let me talk to her!" She screamed, the man didn't listen.

"$500,000 is what I'm owed. The Davenports will wait by the phone. You will receive a call with precise instructions in exactly 15 minutes."

Then he hung up the phone. Cheryl sat at the table for a moment, breathing heavily, before she sprinted out of the room with her Father hot on her trail.

"Were you able to trace it," Gideon asked.

Spencer pulled off his headphones. "No. He's probably using a disposable cell phone. They're impossible to trace."

Gideon nodded.

"She said she could see the moon," Elle repeated softly, and Jodi sighed.

"She sounded delirious," Gideon hummed.

Jodi frowned. "She was sedated."

"Could have been a light," Gideon suggested thoughtfully, his eyes trained on the table.

"If he's keeping her drugged, it might mean he's not very strong," Morgan piped in. "He might have to keep her weak just so he can dominate her."

"Or he's keeping her quiet," Jodi suggested. "Which might mean he's keeping her somewhere populated."

Morgan waved a hand in agreement.

"Has Davenport told us everything about his staff?" Gideon asked after another brief moment of thought, his brows furrowing.

"Oh, yeah," Hotch confirmed with a simple nod of his head. "We have detailed reports but we should probably revisit background on household staff aides and current docket."

"Guys, she wasn't blindfolded," Morgan cut in, having visibly come to the realisation.

"No," Gideon agreed softly.

Jodi couldn't help but suck in a breath sharply as she understood what they were getting at. "If she's seen his face, as soon as he gets that money..."

"He'll kill her," Gideon finished gravely.

They took the chance to regroup and go stretch out their legs and take time to quietly brainstorm while they waited fort he unsub to call back, and Jodi took that chance to drink the rest of her coffee and take a quick bathroom break and pour herself another cup before rejoining Spencer at the desk. Mr Davenport had joined them again, having apparently calmed Cheryl down, and was pacing through the rooms and tugging at his hair while Gideon and Spencer went over the newly printed out transcripts.

"He said owed," Gideon frowned down at the sprawled out sheets of paper, his glasses perched high up on his nose.

"$500,000," Spencer confirmed aloud. Then he glanced up at her, frowning. "His demand sounded scripted, like he was reading it to us. $500,000 is what I'm owed."

"But the rest of the conversation wasn't," Morgan frowned as he entered the room from the one adjacent, where he'd been thinking. "He was most relaxed just talking to Cheryl."

"What does that mean?" Mr Davenport demanded shakily, though he didn't sound like he really wanted to hear the answer.

"Maybe he already knew her," Morgan shrugged simply. "How much time have we got?"

Jodi glanced at the clock on the wall above the desk. "6 minutes."

Gideon turned to Mr Davenport. "How quickly can you get the money?"

True to his word, the unsub called back at the designated time, and everyone resumed their previous positions.

"Everything will be done by Cheryl. Cheryl will gather the money packets. Only she will touch the money. Cheryl will make the drop. If she is wired, if you use a look-a-like, Patricia dies. Cheryl will get in her car. No one is to be in the car with her, no one is to follow her, no air surveillance, no car surveillance of any kind will be tolerated. I will give directions over a cell phone as Cheryl drives. She must make the drop at exactly 3:00 AM. She will follow each instruction to the letter," were the instructions they were given before he hung up.

"We can't let her go alone," Hotch decided immediately, and the rest of them nodded in agreement.

Mr Davenport closed his eyes to keep his composure. "He said if he sees anyone—"

"—I know," Hotch promised evenly. "One car, unmarked, tinted windows."

"If he sees one of you, and Trish dies...if my daughter dies," Mr Davenport choked out.

Hotch and Morgan were the decided pair as to who would be the tail for Cheryl's car, while Jodi stayed back with the to help in any way she could. Spencer was on the phone with the two of them as they drove, acting as their information booth, while she sat beside him at the table.

"Cheryl's car has GPS," Spencer told Morgan over the phone. "We'll be able to track her."

"Kid, the first thing he's gonna do is have her switch cars," he shook his head. "Where are we headed?"

Spencer pressed a few buttons on the laptop, and Jodi watched a red circle ping their location. "An address which appears to be...a rental car lot."

Morgan said a quick thank you then hung up the phone so he could survey the area they'd parked in from the car like it was agreed they would do. Jodi slouched back in her chair and rubbed her eyes sleepily, then leaned her upper body forward and laid her head down on the table.

"Tired?" Spencer asked softly.

She just nodded without even so much as lifting her head up. "Didn't sleep on the plane," she explained through another yawn. "Haven't had enough coffee to counter it."

She heard him hum in response. "You want me to get you a cup, or do you want to nap until we hear something?"

"Nap," she mumbled out, her eyes already closed. "Can you tell me about outer space, Spencer?"

"Well, there's something called a neutron start and it's capable of spinning around 600 times in a second...what's quite interesting is that nobody actually knows how many stars are actually in existence, but right now astronomers—"

She felt him pull something over her shoulders. It felt kind of like his cardigan, but she didn't have much time to think about it before she drifted off to sleep.

Jodi was woken up half an hour later by Spencer gently shaking her shoulder, his eyes marginally sad. Apparently, the ransom drop had been a ruse for the unsub to attempt to kidnap Cheryl. If Morgan and Hotch hadn't been there, she would have joined her sister and the likelihood that they would be found would've decreased significantly.

She had just enough time to pour herself another cup of coffee and sit back down beside Spencer before Morgan walked through the front door with Hotch. "Cheryl's all right," He promised Mr Davenport.

That was true; aside from muddy knees and trembling limbs, she was unharmed.

Jodi shot the pair of them questioning glances, knowing they were troubled they hadn't thought of it sooner, and only head nods in response.

Before Cheryl even had the chance to sit down, the tracker phone rang, and Jodi rolled her lips inwards to avoid sighing. Morgan clicked the button to answer it, and the room fell silent. She stepped beside Spencer as he easily put on his headphones.

The unsub sounded out of breath now, like he was panting, though he was still perfectly calm. "That was fun, wasn't it? A little running around, getting our pulses racing. Are you there, Cheryl?" Morgan silently held up a hand, telling her not to answer him. "Are you there?! Tell me you didn't feel a slight tingle, a thrill run up your spine. Huh? But those clever and cunning FBI agents deduced my little plan just in time. They figured it out. If they hadn't, I would have had you both. The whole set. The matching pair."

"Why are you doing this?" Cheryl whispered finally, much to Morgan's irritation.

"Because you asked me to, Cheryl. You asked me with your glances. The way you talk. Those little gestures."

Morgan immediately pressed mute. "What are you doing?" She demanded.

"Do not answer this man," he instructed her calmly.

"You asked for this! You asked for it, Cheryl! Cheryl!"

But she ignored him and pressed unmute herself. "What do you want?" She burst out emotionally, eyes filling with tears.

"What do I want? You!" He yelled. "It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow but I promise you, we will be together."

And then, he hung up.

Jodi stepped back from Spencer's chair, her arms folded over her chest as each member of the BAU came to the same conclusion. Gideon had been right when he'd said no two cases were alike.

Then, she followed after him and Spencer as they ushered the two Davenport's into the study so the five of them could have a more private conversation. "We can't let Cheryl speak with him any further," Gideon told them softly, his tone earnest.

"Why not?" Cheryl demanded.

"It's only feeding his psychosis to allow your interaction," Spencer explained gently. "Was Trish involved in any serious relationships prior to the kidnapping?"

The two of them paused for a moment to think about it. "With the boy that was killed," Mr Davenport answered finally. "They were together for 2 years."

But Cheryl was biting down on her bottom lip uncertainly. "Trish didn't want me to tell you," she sighed out guiltily. "They were getting engaged."

Jodi's brows flew up. "Well, that certainly could have been the unsub's stressor," she murmured to the two of them, both nodding in agreement, but Mr Davenport heard her.

"What does that mean?" He frowned. "Will someone please tell me what we're dealing with here?"

"De Clerambault's syndrome," Spencer answered automatically. "Otherwise known as erotomania the belief that someone, usually of a higher social status but not necessarily a celebrity, is in love with you. Erotomanics believe that the objects of their affection are subtly professing their love for them through looks, gestures—"

"—Glances," Gideon finished for him. "He said, you asked me with your glances."

"The unsub truly and full-heartedly believes that Cheryl and Trish are in love with him," Spencer concluded enthusiastically, gesturing with his hands to enunciate his points. "They don't tell him this with their voices. No, with gestures and looks. He's obsessed with them."

"What does this mean?" Mr Davenport asked blankly.

"He is the most determined kind of criminal," Gideon answered without a moment's hesitation.

They then left the two in the study so they could have some time to cope on their own in peace and quiet. Once out of the room, the three went into the kitchen to join the rest of their team who'd been waiting patiently for them.

"Crime of obsession. Your specialty, your lead, Morgan," Hotch murmured.

Jodi poured herself a cup of coffee and mixed a single sugar into it, glancing over at Morgan. He was leaning back against the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. "I think we should recheck everyone on Davenport's staff against the profile of a stalker," Was his first recommendation.

"Aren't stalking behaviours pretty diverse?" Elle frowned.

"There's overlap," Morgan explained, and Jodi stepped over to stand beside Gideon and watched him peel an orange in her peripheral vision. "Narcissistic, inflated sense of self-worth, history of bad relationships."

"What do we know so far?" Hotch questioned.

Gideon sighed and pushed his weight off the counter, still focused on his orange.

"He's probably white, obviously male," Morgan responded easily. "Sophisticated speech patterns."

"Sophisticated, yet bizarre," Gideon piped in, and Jodi couldn't help but nod. "He rarely uses contractions; it's not you're, it's you are."

"This guy's pretentious," Morgan agreed. "He wants to sound smarter than he actually is. Whatever position of authority or level of success this guy has he had to struggle for it."

Hotch glanced around the room to make sure neither Mr Davenport nor Cheryl were within hearing range. "We also have to face the possibility at this point—"

"—That Trish may already be dead," Elle finished for him. She reached over and grabbed a slice of Gideon's orange, making Jodi pout.

He rolled his eyes and handed her a piece, then Hotch.

"You know, so far he's called every play," Morgan commented as he was handed an orange slice as well. "I say we apply some pressure, make him sweat."

"Well," Gideon hummed. "There's only one way to do that."

Ten minutes later they'd all gathered at the phone again, waiting anxiously for it to ring, and it did. Gideon let it ring three times, and as Mr Davenport reached out to answer it, he was waved off. "Hold on, hold on, hold on," Gideon instructed.

He wanted until the last ring to answer, and immediately hung up before the unsub had the chance to say anything.

"What are you doing?" Mr Davenport warned shakily. Gideon ignored him, and the phone started ringing again. "Agent Gideon—"

He answered the call. "Hello?"

"Please tell me there was a technical issue with the line, because if you actually just hung up on m—"

Gideon hung up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mr Davenport demanded, astonished that he even had to ask the question.

The phone rang again, and again, Gideon ignored it. "Are you gonna answer it?" Cheryl demanded worriedly.

"Why is he doing this? What is he — what—"

"—you're gonna drive this guy crazy! Just—"

Their voices blended together making her cringe. The phone rang again making her sigh, because she knew the next few minutes would drive the Davenports absolutely crazy. Gideon just held a hand up, smiling comfortingly. "Quiet, please, quiet," he murmured calmly.

It continued to ring, and Cheryl lurched forward to answer. "Cheryl, he knows what he's doing," Elle promised, holding her back.

"Somebody has to answer it!" She shrieked.

"Just answer the phone, for god's sake!" Mr Davenport snapped, surging forwards to attempt the same thing his daughter had, but Morgan managed to grab him first. "Pick up the phone—"

"Don't touch it!" Gideon warned him loudly.

"He knows what he's doing," Jodi promised him gently, though she knew it wouldn't do him much good.

Gideon answered the phone. "Davenport residence," he said calmly.

"Are you out of your mind? You do realize, you do understand, that I'll kill her? Do you—"

He hung up again.

"You're killing my daughter!" Mr Davenport screamed, struggling to get out of Morgan's grasp. "Pick up that phone!"

"Get him quiet," Gideon instructed as the phone started ringing for the umpteenth time, and he grinned at it. "Get him quiet. I — Mr Davenport, get a hold of yourself!" He snapped finally, but he wasn't listening.

"Answer the phone!"

"Quiet him!"

Mr Davenport began sobbing into his hands while Hotch and Morgan helped him sit down on the floor, Cheryl clinging to Elle. Jodi shifted over to Spencer and stood a finger length away from him.

Gideon answered.