[CM] THE CASE

People have many definitions of love: Love is the poetry and the sun in life. — Belinsky

Reid looked serious: "There is one thing."

Morgan looked up: "What?"

Reid turned his pen: "We haven't found out what he took as a souvenir yet."

Griffith thought for a while: "Hmm... If it started from the fantasy of love, he might choose something more romantic to commemorate."

Emily guessed along his train of thought: "Romantic? A ring?"

"No, the victim didn't lose the ring, they didn't even have the ring." Griffith yawned.

Gideon said: "And the ring is so exclusive that it usually has to be a pair to make sense."

Morgan put down the file: "The victim didn't lose any belongings, he didn't get anything from them... perhaps, he took a photo to remember?"

"That would be even harder to find." Reid said with a headache.

"Not necessarily." Griffith said, "at least it can be used as physical evidence."

As they were talking, JJ and Hotch came back one after the other. Hotch pulled the chair next to Gideon and sat down, shaking his head at his colleagues: "The relationship between Paul Finch and Allen Finch is tense, and I don't know anything about Allen Finch."

Gideon understood: "He is a devout Christian, and it is not uncommon for him to sever ties with his son."

"Even if his son was killed?" Hotch asked rhetorically.

Everyone looked at him.

"Sorry." Hotch lowered his head, pretending nothing happened.

Everyone looked at each other, and without anyone noticing, Griffith quietly lifted the file up, covering his face.

He thought, "What would James do if he knew I liked men?"

His benefactor raised him, but suddenly let him go when he was just an adult.He had to struggle in a strange country, and too many setbacks wore away his scarce self-confidence and sense of security.When he first found that his eyes were more focused on the same sex, no one knew how much panic he was harboring.

Will James be disappointed in him?Would the man who had played his father role while he was growing up hate him? Did James see the clue and leave him resolutely?If he had to face James one day, how should he open his mouth to tell?

Is he... really a monster?

One hand gently pulled out the document in his hand. Griffith looked up following the file and saw Reid's worried face.

"Griffith, I called you three times."

"Sorry," Griffith said, "I lost my mind."

Reid didn't believe it, so he lowered his voice and approached his ear, hesitantly said: "You...have you suddenly hallucinated again?"

Griffith pulled away sharply, shaking his head: "It's okay. Don't get so close next time." After he finished speaking, he touched the side of his neck uncomfortably, and Reid got closer and could see that he was blushing.

Griffith was ticklish, and the heat of Reid leaning over to speak gently blew over his sensitive skin, half of his body went numb.Griffith, who rarely gets close to people, feels uncomfortable, afraid that Reid will do it again.

For some reason, Reid also blushed.He coughed hard: "Well, okay... let's go, it's time to eat." After he finished speaking, he turned and bumped into the table.The improvised conference table was knocked to pieces by him, and Reid jumped on the spot in pain, and accidentally tripped over a chair. If it wasn't for Griffith's sharp eyesight and quick hands to catch him, Reid would probably tear down the office.

Morgan, who was waiting at the door, watched Reid's series of accidents speechlessly, and applauded heartlessly: "Okay, boy, you have the talent to inherit Master Chaplin."

Reid bared his teeth and let out a "pooh".

Griffith was still holding his arm, laughing until tears were on the verge of tears.

After such a delay, the others had disappeared. When Morgan was chatting with a policewoman in the morning, she inquired about nearby restaurants and took the two of them to settle for lunch in 15 minutes. When they returned to the police station, a small police officer ran to them: "Detective!"

Morgan walked in the front and asked, "What's the matter?"

"Steven Hanter is here," said the officer. "We have him waiting in your office."

The eyes of the three of them lit up at the same time.

Meanwhile, Hotch and Gideon just finished lunch. Gideon didn't intend to go back in a hurry, he took a sip of coffee slowly and praised: "This tastes better than BAU's."

Hotch laughs: "BAU's coffee is the best in the FBI."

"Yeah, the treatment is really good." Gideon put down his coffee cup with a smile.The old man changed the subject: "What happened to you today?"

Hotch's smile faded away.

"You don't do that very often, Hotch," Gideon said. "Too much stress lately?"

"No," Hotch said. "I... I took a similar case when I was a lawyer. It was an elderly couple who wanted to break up with their daughter because she was gay."

"I never understood it, and when I had a family, I couldn't understand it. I mean, the family time that I want to cherish, they all want to lose because they can't accept the sexuality of the child. This... sounds ridiculous."

Gideon said indifferently: "There is nothing wrong with it. Everyone has different ideas. Some people don't cherish family and children. It's normal."

"But," Hotch sighed, "this feeling that you value something that others don't, you know…"

"It's hard." Gideon nodded, "I know."

Hotch smiled bitterly: "Yeah, it's hard."

Gideon supported the table and stood up: "No matter how uncomfortable you have to work, let's go, it's time to go back."

Griffith poured Steven Hanter a glass of water and left the room. Morgan sat across from him, outside the door, and Officer Clark ate a hamburger, watching the interrogation through a crack in the shutters.

Although Steven and Allen are roommates, the gap between the two is too big, which can be seen from the appearance. Steven has dyed his red hair flamboyantly, and has five or six studs in his ears.Facing the two FBI agents, his attitude was not bad.

"Allen is a very gentle kid." Steven said, "and very obedient. I told him not to drink the wine that others gave, so he usually drank what I ordered, and then sat at the bar and listened to the band singing."

"Does anyone usually talk to him?"

"Occasionally. If I was with him, I would try my best to refuse. People in that kind of place are not good people, and Allen is easy to suffer."

"It sounds like you're protective of him," Morgan said. "Have you had sex with Allen?"

"Me? With Allen?" Steven looked incredible, "Just kidding! Impossible! We're both number zero, okay?"

Morgan couldn't understand, so he nodded calmly and said, "Let me describe the suspect's characteristics to you, and see if you can think of anyone."

"He often appears in bars. He is not very conspicuous. He may often sit in the corner and observe everyone. Sometimes, you will feel that it makes no difference whether he exists or not."

Steven frowned, seeming to be remembering seriously.

"He's single, maybe between 30 and 40 years old, has a very mature temperament, and may have a successful career. If you have talked, he may have mentioned that he hopes to have a long-term relationship. He knows romance. , have paranoid fantasies about love."

Steven shook his head in disappointment: "No, I don't have any impression." He covered his face and said in a muffled voice, "I'm sorry, I... If I had been with him that night, neither would Allen... If I could now Come to think of it, I might be able to avenge Allen."

"It's okay." Morgan reassured, "Let us know as soon as you remember something or have any clues, and I'll copy the number to you."

Steven took Morgan's note and bowed solemnly: "Thank you. Please, please catch the murderer."

Morgan opened the door for him, and Clark stood sternly outside, ready to take Steven away.

"We will," Morgan said, "I promise."

Gideon and Hotch brush past Steven. Morgan handed Hotch the transcript of the conversation, shrugging. "No gain."

Hotch took the transcript and was not surprised by the result: "Well, we can only wait until the evening to go to the bar to see. I asked Detective Clark for some plainclothes to assist in the investigation. Today is the weekend and there are many people at night, so you all need to be careful. "

There are no nights in Las Vegas.Carnival lights replace the sun and illuminate the entire city.

The bar music was blaring, and Steven sat where Allen usually sat and ordered a Baileys.The bartender handed over a small plate of snacks, and Steven smiled at him to express his gratitude.

Thomas noticed the depressed Steven and dismissed the bartender.He took away the Baileys and gave Steven a glass of juice: "Boozing and thinking about others are not the solution, Steven."

"Hi, Thomas." Steven didn't touch the glass of juice, "…Thanks."

"Sad for Allen?"

"Yeah, he's a good friend," Steven said sadly. "He's all about love, and he wants a loyal lover. He's innocent and sweet."

"Who doesn't want love?" Thomas asked rhetorically.

Steven laughed, "Yeah, who doesn't want love—you know? Allen is only willing to come to this bar."

"Really? I'm honored." Thomas teased Steven with feigned surprise.

Steven shook his head: "Please, he didn't come here for you—although it's about the same. You opened this bar because you met your lover for the first time in a bar? He wants that too, so he likes it here."

"I was lucky enough to meet him," Thomas said sweetly. "It's not a love story that can be replicated."

"But people always need to look forward to it." Steven picked up the snack and asked casually, "By the way, I've never met your lover. What's his name?"

Thomas smiled and said, "His name is Sweetheart."

"Wow, disgusting!" Steven exclaimed exaggeratedly, "Oh my god, you are such a person!"

"Just kidding." Thomas tapped his shoulder lightly. "I'm about to leave work, and he's still waiting for me. Have a good time."

"Go! Don't keep sweetheart waiting, be careful he won't let you sleep!" Steven whistled.

Thomas laughed and cursed, and walked into the room.

As soon as he was on his front foot, Griffith found Steven on his back foot.At this time, he was bombarded by the loud music in the bar, and he was delirious, and he had to avoid countless pairs of malicious hands, which was really exhausting physically and mentally.However, he still dedicatedly asked everyone repeatedly, always keeping an eye out for dark corners.

So Steven heard him say, "Hello, sir, have you ever met such a person? He is not easy to arouse suspicion, and he likes well-behaved and gentle people. He has paranoid fantasies about love..."

After that, Steven couldn't hear clearly.

The screams from the crowd drowned out Griffith's words. Steven squinted at the sound, as if the lead singer of the band had taken off his shirt.

Griffith sighed and sat down at the bar to rest. Steven pushed the juice in front of him to him: "Thank you, officer."

"Thanks." Griffith didn't hesitate. "Good evening, Steven."

"Hello," Steven said, "Still working?"

"Yeah, so you remembered me, I just poured you a glass of water." Griffith said.

"I'm impressed with the handsome guy." Steven said mischievously, "Is there any progress?"

Griffith shook his head.

"Well, then tell me again, maybe I have an impression now."

"Wait." Griffith drank the juice in one gulp, "I'm a little thirsty. Well, this person is inconspicuous, and it doesn't make much difference whether he exists or not. He has extremely perfect fantasies about love, longing for a passionate and long-lasting love. He is white, between thirty and forty, single, likes gentle and well-behaved boys..."

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly felt dizzy. He reached out to hold the bar but failed to grab it. Steven noticed his abnormality, and before he could move, Griffith fell off the chair and was completely unconscious.