While she was pouring her third cup of coffee in two hours, Garcia called back.

Morgan was talking to her, though he had her on speaker for everyone to hear.

"Okay, gorgeous, I've put this thing through every audio filter I've got. There's only one thing I can tell you for sure. This guy isn't saying Karen. It's more like Ka-rowne."

"Garcia, what the hell is Ka-rowne?" Morgan scoffed.

Jodi glanced up. "Do you mean Charown?"

Immediately, Morgan turned to her. "You know what it means?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure it's biblical..." she hummed.

"What the hell makes you say that?"

Because my second foster mom was a religious piece of work.

"I read it somewhere," Jodi shrugged simply, though the memory's threatening to rise up formed a lump in her throat that she had no choice but to swallow. "But Penny G, I'm 90% sure it'll have something to the bible, I just don't know what."

"Look into it, Garcia," Morgan agreed.

"If I figure it out does it mean a night of passionate love making?" Penelope questioned, making Jodi grin.

Morgan and Garcia were a pair platonic soulmates if she'd ever seen one; and she loved it.

He snickered. "Most definitely, sweetness... with Reid." Spencer looked over at the sound of his name, which only seemed to make him laugh more. "Bye." He ended the call "Hey, Reid; Garcia says it's not Karen, it's actually something like—"

Gideon sprinted in and interrupted him, and also made Jodi let out a small yelp, having not heard him coming. "—Charown; I do it because of Charown."

Reid raised his brows. "Charown?"

"Charown," Jodi confirmed. "I'm pretty sure it's biblical, isn't it?"

"That's Hebrew," Spencer murmured.

"It's God's burning anger," Gideon nodded, shooting Jodi a brief congratulatory brow raise.

"The motive is now religious?" Elle frowned, entering the room with two boxed salads; she'd gotten herself and Spencer lunch. Jodi pouted when she realized she'd missed out. Hotch also moved towards them as Spencer was handed his salad.

Spencer started the conversation, shifting past Morgan until he was standing right next to her, and Jodi smiled at him. "Well, you know, in a lot of religions, god is related to fire."

Gideon erased everything they'd had on the whiteboard as Hotch shared his knowledge on the subject. "Well, Brahman is fire in Hinduism, and the Jews see God as a pillar of fire, and Christians worship god as a consuming fire."

"Okay, so we're looking at Theology major," Morgan concluded. "Maybe he's punishing the other students for their sins."

Spencer tilted his head so his mouth was next to her ear and mumbled, "I don't want this," while looking at the salad.

Wordlessly, Jodi grabbed it and pulled the lid off, and ignored the dressing as she began eating it with her fingers. There was no time for forks.

"What's the most sinful place on campus?" Elle piped in, frowning.

Morgan scoffed. "Come on, Elle, when I was in college that was everywhere.

"I wasn't legal when I was in college," Jodi muttered to herself.

Spencer looked surprised. "How old were you?"

"Seventeen my first year."

He made an impressed face. "I was fourteen," he murmured quietly so he wouldn't drown out the others as they theorized.

"Nice," she hummed, extending her arm.

He bumped her elbow, and they returned to the conversation.

"What about the idea of baptism by fire?" Morgan suggested, and everyone paused. "Aren't we all supposed to be tested through fire and revelations?"

"Look, it's good, it's good, but let's please do not jump to conclusions," Gideon cut in, hands open calmly as if to tell everyone to take a second and breathe. "Religion might be a part of it, but it's not necessarily the prime compulsion."

The same feeling reared up in Jodi's subconscious, and her mouth opened as if she had something to say, but she didn't know what.

"Gideon," Morgan gaped in astonishment. "Rush to conclusions; jump to conclusions."

"We are running out of time," Elle snapped.

As her mouth opened again, Spencer's eyes met hers. "Compulsion," he repeated slowly, as if something had dawned on him.

She mouthed the word silently, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

Oh my God.

"Go watch the video again," she murmured to him, scratching the inner corner of her eye to make sure there wasn't any sleep-dust forming there. "I'll meet you in there, I just need to get more coffee."

In reality, she didn't.

But she didn't feel like talking about it, either.

Because as soon as he walked into an empty office to watch the video, Jodi went into the adjacent room and stared out the window. It had been a long time since she'd last thought about Dana Stewart; nearly eleven years.

Has it really been that long?

She remembered going to her funeral, standing over the freshly-filled grave and taking the pens Dana had always been fiddling with and burying them in the correct order by colour for her friend whom had always held that to the utmost importance. Dana had told her once why she needed everything in order from red's to violets, and Jodi remembered holding her as she cried while she did.

Her compulsion was that if things fell out of order, someone important to her would die.

But their foster mother, Ms Lennon, hadn't been courteous of that and any time Dana felt a compulsion told her to write the exact same biblical passage — No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it — on a sheet of paper again and again until the 'itch' to do so was gone, because apparently if she put enough faith in the Lord it would be enough to cure her of the mental sickness.

Dana had only been able to survive in Ms Lennon's care — lack-there-of, was much more accurate wording — for a month, and then ended her life at the age of fourteen.

Jodi had been twelve at the time, and due to Ms Lennon's belief system, had been forced to view it as a sin against God.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there for, just watching students mill around the campus, but she was drawn out of her thoughts by Spencer lightly tapping her shoulder. He looked a little worried, but with one shake of her head he moved on. "I think you were right," he murmured. "About the 3 twists on the doorknob at the student housing, but I need to check something first."

"Okay," She hummed softly, turning her body so she was facing him now, arms crossed over her chest. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Spencer grimaced apologetically. "No, I need to be fast."

Jodi chuckled softly, and reached up to ruffle his hair. He was only two inches taller than she was, but it was enough of a height difference that she still had to reach just a bit; especially because she had a tendency to slouch. "Enough said, Doc, go check what you need to. But just so we're on the same page, are you thinking OCD too?"

"Definitely a version of it," Spencer nodded as he fixed his hair with one sweet from the front of the part-line to the back, and she watched it flop back into place. "But that's what I need to check."

"Okay then, Honey," she murmured, the nickname unintentionally slipping out. He didn't seem to mind, though. "You go test your theory."

An hour later, Jodi was sitting in another office with Hotch and Gideon when he got back.

"I know why the profile never fit." He looked almost excited about his discovery, and it made her smile as she turned her attention to him. "You were right to tell Morgan not to rely on precedent. The fires thus far have been completely task oriented."

"So once they're set, the unsub is done?" Hotch frowned.

Spencer nodded twice. "Exactly. The unsub is not a classical serial arsonist. He's someone who uses fire because of a completely different disorder."

Gideon raised his brows. "Which is?"

"Obsessive Compulsive Disorder," Jodi answered. "OCD."

"An extreme manifestation of it," Spencer confirmed. "He does everything in 3's, and if we're right—" he glanced at her "—he'll have to kill again."

Spencer set the video of Matthew Rowland's death up on the computer — with some help from Jodi, since he wasn't entirely tech savvy — and sat down at a chair in front of it. "There's a form of OCD called scrupulosity."

"Religious obsession and compulsion," Hotch murmured.

Jodi nodded slowly, absentmindedly scratching her nail lightly against her palm.

"An obsessive fear of committing sin, which creates so much anxiety that he's compelled to do something to ease that anxiety," Spencer nodded.

"Like setting fires," she sighed softly.

Her brain briefly drifted to a day in Ms Lennon's house, where Dana was crying at the kitchen table while printing out the bible verse their foster mother was yelling at her like a drill Sargent from beside her chair, entire body shaking. Ms Lennon had made her write it in orange instead of red, having said she was just being silly for thinking the colours had to be in order like that.

She heard Gideon ask about behavioural evidence for their theory as she shook the thought from her head, and returned to the conversation. Her eyes refocused on the screen just in time to see the door knob jiggle in the video, and she snapped her fingers.

That's what had been nagging at her; she'd unintentionally recognized possible signs of OCD.

"But he's not trying to get in," Spencer explained. "He's compelled to turn the knob three times."

"Well, what about the fires?" Gideon asked, clearly beginning to follow along with their theory. "The first ones were single fires. If the unsub was OCD, shouldn't they have all been in 3's?

"They were in 3's. A trinity of 3's," Spencer hummed. "The first fire occurred on march third."

"3:00 P. M., third day, third month," Gideon realized out loud. He rubbed his face with his palms.

"It's the merging of three's that causes the overwhelming anxiety," Jodi explained softly, stifling the yawn threatening to overcome her. "Obsessive compulsives ease the anxiety by performing the compulsion."

"What about the other fires, Professor Wallace?" Hotch asked.

"Office number 3," Spencer answered easily. "I checked for more patterns of 3's. His class was on Tuesdays."

"Third day of the week," Hotch breathed.

"Matthew Rowland was in that class," Spencer continued. "It was his third class of the day." He was talking with his hands now. "If we looked into each of the fires we'd find a lot of patterns having to do with 3's because our minds are incredibly adept at seeking out patterns. But to the unsub, once that pattern hits, bam — he sets a fire."

"But if the target was always people, why did no one die in the first few fires?" Gideon questioned.

"They were failures," Jodi answered simply, her voice sad. "Right up until Matthew Rowland."

Hotch stood up, and she could almost see the gears in his head turning.

Gideon noticed it too. "What is it?"

"I think I might know who it is, and it's not a he, it's a she," he murmured. "One of the four girls we were talking to earlier tonight with Jeremy, I think her name was Clara? She was listing off the ingredients for a self-igniting Molotov cocktail and—"

"—Sugar, sugar, sugar," Jodi realized out loud, repeating what she'd heard the girl say.

Gideon was on the phone before anyone had the chance to say anything else. After getting a name — Clara Hayes — he called Morgan, who was walking around with Elle, and told him to get to her apartment.

"When I was talking to her and her classmates, I noticed something — a ring on her finger. And she kept turning it," Hotch explained it to Gideon, who hadn't been with them at the time.

"At intervals?" Spencer asked.

"Three's," he confirmed. "And she counted off the ingredients of a light bulb bomb."

"And the word sugar," Spencer hummed, expanding on Jodi's previous comment.

"She seemed relieved when she was done," she murmured." I should've picked up on that."

Spencer shook his head at the last half of what she said, but continued on with what he wanted to say. "Yeah, it's palilalia. It's the involuntary repetition of words. Howard Hughes had it when his OCD worsened."

"Clara and her classmates were working on a project about gravitational pull."

"The 3 body problem."

Ten minutes later, they got a phone call from Morgan. Apparently they were dead on about Clara being the unsub. Her apartment, according to him, was practically a shrine to fire related gods. The walls were covered in quotes from various religious texts, articles, quotes made by famous people; all related to fire.

Then, he asked about Moloch.

"Moloch was the demon sun God of the Canaanites," was Spencer's answer. "In order to keep from incurring his wrath, the people would sacrifice their children to him by burning them alive."

Hotch received a fax Garcia had found, relating to Clara. "16-year-old survives inferno. The mother Ellen Hayes called it a miracle," he read aloud. "My daughter was tested by God. He tested my child and she came through blessed. Look at the house number."

The page was passed around, and sure enough; address number 333.

Dean Turner was call in so they could share their information, and she made a few additional calls to security. "Security's checking the science building."

"Well, where else would she be?" Gideon asked, almost rhetorically.

"We need to find the next pattern of 3's," Jodi sighed.

Then, Morgan found nearly 30 homemade Molotov cocktails in the apartment, and immediately Gideon told him to seal off the building and walk away. Then he instructed security to pull the fire alarms in every building, and look for convergences of 3 on the blueprints of the school.

She went with everyone down to a ground floor office they'd deem the communications room, and sat diligently next to the phone, just in case someone called. She could hear Hotch, Gideon and Spencer talking quietly a few feet away from her, but founds he was honest to god too tired to get up and join them. If it was really that important, they'd call her over.

When Gideon and Hotch left, he came to sit down beside her to access the computers at the table the phone sat on. "Everything okay?" He asked quietly.

"I had a foster sister with OCD," Jodi explained hesitantly. If she could tell anyone about it, it would be Spencer. "This is just, bringing back memories, I guess."

"That makes sense," he hummed. Then, after a moment, "I didn't know you were in the foster system."

"I was," she nodded, grimacing at the memories stirring in the back of her head. She willed them back into dormancy. "I started off in the Scottish system, that family moved to the US for a job promotion, and here I am."

Gideon called, asking for information on Clara Hayes.

"I'm here," is all he told her before following through with the request. "She's failing out. This was gonna be her last semester."

That's the stressor.

"She was a researcher in the science building." A pause. "The third floor of the science building is under construction."

Then he hung up.

Three hours later, Jodi was half asleep being carried up the steps of the jet by Morgan, who was equally exhausted. Hotch had managed to subdue Clara without any other loss of life — Jeremy and the two other girls from the chem room were to be the next victims — and had made sure everyone was checked out before they were finally allowed to go home.

Jodi had been nearly asleep against the wall of the communications room when he'd come to tell her it was time to leave, and she'd jokingly made grabby hands at him. They'd both laughed it off at first, but when Spencer had asked if she wanted a piggy back ride back to the jet since she was crashing after two days of no sleep and constant caffeine, Morgan picked her up like a baby and carried her to the car, then from the car to the jet.

He sat down on her usual couch with her upper body flopped across his lap so she was propped up and using the arm rest for a pillow, and just barely had time to mumble a thank you, g'night to Spencer when he let her use his cardigan as a blanket, before her eyes drooped closed.