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Though Philip understands himself to be more or less on call for whatever Todd Chad and his team might need, he's also been given a relatively comfortable position in that they rarely call him unless they truly need him. He'd proven himself the night he'd gotten stabbed and he's been well paid both for his effort, his injury and his discretion, although he has told more than a few people what he was doing that evening, more than he's sure Todd Chad's team would be pleased about. What they don't know can't hurt him, however, and he'll deal with that situation when and if it ever happens.

For now they don't know. For now they believe they can trust him and they're paying him for it and for now they generally leave him be unless his skills are completely necessary. All in all, it adds up to a relatively comfortable life, one Philip enjoys a great deal.

So he's in a good mood when he catches sight of his favourite agent in a coffee shop that afternoon. He hadn't intended on heading inside, had been considering going to get a spot of lunch at the cafe just down the street instead, but at the sight of Reid waiting in line, he can't help but slip inside, coming up to stand just behind Reid without saying a word. He's quiet, peering over Reid's shoulder, watching as he texts his husband, though Philip is enough of a gentleman to avert his gaze so as to not read the contents of the message.

Let it not be said he's not capable of kindness every now and then.

"And how much caffeine does a profiler need to get through a regular Sunday afternoon?" he asks curiously after a moment, alerting Reid to his presence. "You can't be working today, can you? Tell me they let you have Sunday off. Isn't it still considered the Lord's day or have they done away with that nonsense finally?"

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Things are, more or less, back to normal at home. It'd been a relief to find Luke back in his regular body, mostly because it's the one Reid is so familiar with but also because Jack had been happy to have the Papa he knows back. If it'd just been the two of them, Reid's only concern would have been whether Luke would change back at all; but with their six-year-old with a horrible past, things had been a little different. Jack had been such a trooper, very impressively so, but Reid's just glad everything seems to have fallen back into place.

Granted, he can't say the same about work. In the span of the last couple weeks, there have been two murders within two different families, one of which had happened just yesterday. The victims in both instances had been fathers and what's needling Reid is that the perpetrators had been their wives. Both kids have been sent to live with their next of kin, which Reid supposes is fortunate enough, considering the alternative is the Home; but even though there have only been two murders, the circumstances are too similar to ignore. His biggest issue is he can't see a pattern outside of said circumstances quite yet, and that's exactly what has him away from the station to get himself some coffee that hasn't come from the break room.

He's just finished sending a text to Luke, a promise that he'll be home in time for dinner with a few of those heart emojis, when a familiar accent startles him back into his current surroundings. It's always a little unsettling, hearing Luke's voice but knowing it's not his husband. There are tiny nuances, of course, not to mention the difference in appearances, that help but even so, Reid lets out a practically inaudible sigh before looking over his shoulder.

"Some people might still consider it that, but I've never subscribed to that line of thinking," Reid answers with a crooked smile. "Besides, crime doesn't take a rest day, not even in Darrow."

"Because you don't believe in God or because you doubt he gives a shit whether or not you take a day off?" Philip asks in a cheerful enough voice, knowing it's a bizarrely heavy conversation to begin with someone right off the bat. But Agent Reid isn't just anyone. He is, with perhaps the exception of Neil, the person who knows the most about Philip and he is, certainly with the exception of Coop, the person willing to say just about anything in Philip's presence. Coop's comments tend to wander closer to the peculiar than Reid's ever do, which is oddly part of what Philip enjoys about him, but his conversations with Reid are their own creature.

And he enjoys them, too.

If he gives it real consideration, he supposes he must consider himself an atheist, but he also doesn't care much one way or the other. Religion offers him as many opportunities to twist and manipulate people as does sex or money. It's simply one more area of the world Philip has found ways to shape in his favour, but it's a genuine question, too. Any insight into his favourite agent is something worth having.

"I'm undecided," Reid settles for saying, "for various reasons."

That's not exactly accurate, he'd only ever had one experience to make him wonder about the possibility of the existence of something like God or Heaven; but it'd been enough to at least make him question it, even after examining what he'd experienced in those moments after he would've been considered clinically dead. So saying he's undecided seems to be a good enough choice without going further into it, which he's not particularly keen to do, at least not while standing in line at the coffee shop.

Frankly, he can imagine talking to Lombard about it, which would have been unsettling at one point. Reid isn't sure at what point that'd shifted. Maybe it'd been at the strip club the night of his bachelor party, of all places. They're still not friends, which he's certain is fine by both of them, but they've developed something. Reid isn't sure if he can call it a mutual respect, but it's something along those lines.

"And that second one, too," he adds as an afterthought. "Darrow PD had an eventful night last night, and it wasn't the standard emergency call."

There's no reason for Reid to be telling him these things except Philip suspects the other man might consider him something like a friend. Whatever relationship they have, he's aware it's not so easily defined as that, but as far as he's concerned, the world's obsession with definitions is terribly pointless. Philip doesn't care one way or the other and he doubts very much Reid does either, because it's probably significantly easier for him to not have to tell his husband the two of them are friends.

"Not standard?" he asks. "Vampires, then? Demons? Christ only knows what else this place has lurking in its shadows. How does a regular police department even begin to fighting something of that nature?"

He's genuinely curious, but he also has absolutely no desire to face such things himself. Philip knows just how far his abilities go and he's no fool, choosing to keep himself safe above everything else. Whatever strange creatures might exist in Darrow, he does his best to steer clear of them so that he might stay alive just a little while longer than he's supposed to.

"Actually, no," Reid admits, "very human. At least, it seems that way. It hasn't made big news yet, but..."

But he has a feeling it will because the two murders are too alike to be coincidental. The main problem he anticipates facing is the fact that they aren't going to be dealing with a serial killer; rather, it's someone (or someones) who appears to take pleasure in watching someone else commit the crime. It's a show of power, Reid thinks, but that's based only on his instinct that these aren't going to be isolated incidents. He hopes he's wrong, he really does. Darrow may not be safe, exactly, but it hasn't really faced a major string of murders like this for a number of years. Reid had read back on that awhile ago, and he's not looking forward to having to prepare the city for anything like that again.

In any case, he shouldn't be discussing this with Lombard because it's a very open, ongoing investigation so he shifts his gaze back to the menu, even though he's going to order what he always does.

"As for the rest, the regular police department gets help," Reid answers, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Luke had helped him a few times while he'd investigated the vampires, so had Alec. "Even when they don't know it."

Human violence that makes big news is either violence on a grand scale, in which case Philip believes they would already know about it, or violence that follows some kind of pattern and he's always forced to wonder what it is about the act of killing that brings these people such pleasure. He and Reid both know what he's capable of, the things he's done, but Philip has never killed someone for the fun of it and when he considers it, he doesn't see how it could be fun. Necessary, certainly, and there are times when he's taken perverse enjoyment out of violence that was well deserved, but beyond that, he simply doesn't understand.

Then again, he supposes that's why men like Reid are needed. To untangle the mess of those who commit such acts.

"Very human, so you're in for a long few days," he says. "Weeks perhaps. Months? I don't know much about how such men are caught these days." And in the past, it seems they were rarely brought to justice unless they made a mistake somewhere along the way. The law enforcement system has certainly improved since the world Philip had known.

He hopes it doesn't take months to solve this case.

Months means more deaths, more time away from his family, and the latter had never been a concern for him in the past but it's his priority now. For a time, Reid had imagined he would understand how Hotch and JJ were able to juggle being parents with being BAU agents but if he's entirely honest, it's even more a mystery to him now. Darrow doesn't keep him even a fraction as busy as the BAU had, which he supposes he should be thankful for, but Reid still isn't at all keen on the idea that he might have to put his career first, even if it's only for a little while.

His husband and son matter more to him to anything else in the world. Reid enjoys his job, he always has. He just hopes it will never come down to having to make a choice, not that he'd hesitate for a second in making one.

"Well, I'd definitely prefer to catch him before he finds his next victims," he says, though it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that their unsub is a woman. Just unlikely. "Unfortunately, I don't have much to go on yet, this particular unsub seems to be good at keeping his hands clean."

"Unsub?" Philip echoes questioningly, though he's already trying to work it out on his own before he even really gives Reid a chance to respond.

There are times when he wonders why it is Reid so readily speaks with him. Then again, he knows he's given up information to Reid that he hasn't shared with others, and he can't quite place the motivation behind his own actions either. It doesn't make any sense, they're men who should be keeping a great distance between one another and Philip would hardly be inclined to say Reid is a friend, but he's certainly something.

And here they are, after all, talking again. It never seems to fail they have something to tell one another.

"A serial killer then," he says when he can't quite work out what unsub might mean on his own. He's sure Reid will tell him. "How interesting. I'm sure the general population will eat that up, so long as they're out of harm's way. Isn't that always the case?"

"Unknown subject," Reid clarifies. "That's what we called them when I was working with the BAU. In the majority of our cases, yes, we'd be referring to a serial killer. Or a rampage killer, an arsonist, whatever crime we were investigating at the time."

He's not comfortable referring to the current unsub as a serial killer yet, he just doesn't have enough information to make that assumption. Beyond that, the unsub hasn't actually killed anyone, at least not that Reid is aware of yet. There are too many questions that can't be answered yet, the two women who'd killed their husbands aren't talking, and Reid suspects that has a lot to do with the fact their children may be under threat if they say anything more than what they have. They'd both been too terrified, too distraught, it hadn't made sense that they'd kill their spouses. That, in itself, seems sloppy. Their unsub could be considerably new at this level of manipulation, which will hopefully just mean they can close this investigation sooner.

"I'm more concerned that it might cause some hysteria," Reid admits. "It'll attract a lot of attention, sure, but the threat of a killer on the loose can cloud judgment. It makes you look at the people next to you a little differently." He pauses then, lifting a brow at Lombard as the corners of his mouth twitch. "Or I don't know. Maybe not you."

"I'll have you know I can be extremely trusting," Philip answers with a smirk of his own before he looks at the menu to decide on his order. The two of them are next in line, after all, and he'd very much like to continue this conversation without too much of a pause, knowing they'll both hold up the line and this interesting subject if they don't have their orders ready once they've reached the counter.

Decision made, he looks over at Reid with another grin and adds, "Within reason, of course. I hardly walk around this place suspecting each and every person I meet of being some kind of killer, but only because I know most people don't have that in them. It's one thing to be able to say you would do anything to protect your loved ones, but when it comes down to the line, there aren't that many people who would be able to take a life, even in a situation like that. Which in turn leads me to acknowledge most people aren't capable of killing for work and probably even fewer people are capable of killing for pleasure. Why else would it be that drafts were necessary in times of war? It was, at least at one point, difficult to find men who wanted to pour bullets into another, even if he was the enemy."

He smiles again and shrugs. "So you may be right. The average person may read a news story about such things and decide their neighbour is a killer, but if they were to stop and consider and statistical probability of it for even a moment, they'd see they were being rather stupid."

It mildly amuses Reid to hear Lombard talk about statistical probability, but it also doesn't necessarily surprise him in this case. Lombard is sharp, he's simply not "the average person," and that's something the man is all too aware of. It's partly what makes him dangerous, in the way Reid knows he could be, but it's also what keeps him from going on a rampant spree. Lombard may be responsible for the deaths of twenty-one men, but he hadn't done it just because. In his own eyes, it'd been for necessity. Something had been standing in the way of what he wanted, it'd just so happened to be people and so, Lombard had gotten rid of them.

That should send chills down his spine, Reid thinks. It should bother him that he's able to stand here and be civil with Philip Lombard and not feel shame for it. Maybe he's just comfortable with the fact that he doesn't, in any way, excuse what Lombard's done; but the Lombard he's gotten to know, even if it's not the most honest version of the man, is at least one Reid can trust not to do anything that could be considered self-harming. That includes hurting people when he knows Reid would be the first one there to take him in for it.

It's a strange dynamic they have but not an altogether unpleasant one. Reid prefers not to think too much about it. He also prefers not to think about why he pays for both their orders as they head off to the side of the counter to wait for their drinks, but he doesn't say anything about it and doesn't think Lombard will, either. It wouldn't serve Lombard in any way to bring it up, after all, so why would he bother?

"The hard part is realizing someone you live, someone you love might be the one to turn on you," Reid tells him, and it's revealing a lot without saying a lot. "When the danger could already be in your home, it blurs those lines of logic."

It'll come out in the media soon, the department won't be able to keep a lid on this for very long without backlash over not providing the public proper warning, but he knows he should tread lightly on the subject. Regardless of what Lombard may or may not find out from the news in the near future, Reid could still get into trouble for revealing any specific details, particularly with such a great risk of someone overhearing.

"Are you saying you don't trust your burly husband not to turn on you one day?" he asks with a grin, unable to help himself even though he knows Reid isn't saying any such thing. Whatever the case Reid is working on, it's clear there's some element of what people think of as their safe spaces involved. Someone from the home, someone close to the victims. Philip himself trusts so few people he's never been particularly worried about being hurt in such a manner, especially since he can take care of himself physically.

Philip doesn't love people. There are a few here and there he cares about in his way, Coop and Neil and Sally, even Reid in a strange way, but he would never describe what he feels for any of them as love. They exist within a different sort of circle for him, people who have proven themselves more interesting than others, and he'd even go so far as saying he would protect them, but he knows that isn't love. He's never been particularly distraught that it's not something he experiences.

It puts him at less risk, certainly. Vera is evidence enough of that and what Reid is telling him now only cements that opinion.

"That does change things a bit, though, doesn't it?" he asks, even though he isn't expecting an answer. Reid has already said as much and Philip is turning it over in his head, wondering at what might possess a person to do such a thing to someone they care for in the manner in which he assumes most people manage to feel. Even without his ability to love people in a normal way, he wouldn't hurt the few he's come to care for. "That information would make a fair few people suspicious, I imagine."

Sometimes Reid wonders whether it should annoy him more that Lombard always mentions Luke with a hint of mockery in his tone but instead, it just makes him roll his eyes as he ducks his head to hide his smile. The question is clearly not a serious one, and Reid doesn't take it that way but he still feels the need to answer it, if only so he can say he definitely defended his husband, whether Luke needs defending or not.

"My burly husband is the perfect person to have around in case anyone else turned on me," Reid corrects, "but that only leaves our son, and I'm not too worried about a six-year-old overpowering. Maybe that's just me being naive."

So far, Reid's fairly certain he hasn't made too many enemies in Darrow. There's always the risk of having to deal with unsubs who end up caught getting released and seeking revenge, that's something they'd had to deal with at the BAU more than a couple times. There's also the matter of the vampires that had taken a dangerous turn for a little while, but that problem seems to have tapered off on its own for now. Reid's glad for that, if he's honest, because he hadn't really had a particularly good idea for detaining vampires when it's not like a prison cell would serve them the right kind of justice.

"Statistically, you're more likely to be killed by someone you know than a random stranger," Reid tells Lombard. "In 2011, 79 percent of the murders reported to the FBI were committed by friends, loved ones, or acquaintances. That we knew of, anyway, there were murders that went unsolved that could have raised that percentage."

The thing is, there's more to this case than meets the eye, Reid is sure of it. He just wishes he had more to go on because right now, all he can do is grasp at straws.

"Be careful who you trust, is the underlying message there," Philip says idly, though he knows it isn't as simple as that. His own trust is difficult to earn, though he's given it to people before and has certainly given it to a few here in Darrow. That fact that he's left Agent Reid with his secret and hasn't tried to silence him in any way is indication enough of that. The crime had been committed long before his time in Darrow and he'd paid for it at the end of it all with his life. There's not really anything he thinks Reid could do with the information, but he hasn't used it against Philip either.

And so, in essence, Philip is trusting him. Even if neither of them will go as far as saying as much.

"And what about those you work with?" he asks curiously, more interested in what Reid thinks than in the reality of the situation. As long as there has been law enforcement, there has been those who abuse the authority that's bestowed upon them, those who use the power in order to make their own lives better at the detriment of others. He's sure they still exist and he's sure, if he tried a little harder, he'd be able to find one or two with relative ease. "Statistically, it seems there would be just as many officers willing to kill someone as the average people walking around day to day. The profession doesn't only attract those who want to do good."

It certainly attracts those who want the power.

"Where are you getting your statistics, exactly?" Reid asks, a goading edge to his tone. "Just out of curiosity. Cite your sources and all that."

Their order is called, and Reid turns to grab both drinks before handing over Lombard's. It doesn't take long to scan the room for a table, it's not terribly busy in here, which is to his preference. There's a conveniently empty one in the corner and Reid nods in that direction, taking the first few steps toward it.

"In all seriousness, though," he continues once they've taken their seats, "I hate to admit it but you're right. Corruption within the force definitely exists, though it doesn't seem to be particularly common with the Darrow PD. Then again, they might just be very good at covering up their tracks, it's hard to tell. Police officers, they protect their own, and they're generally cooperative with me but at the same time, I'm not one of them. It was the same way when I worked with the FBI, local law enforcement was almost always skeptical to work with us at first. It doesn't work the same way here, obviously, I'm not the guy they call in when the locals are at a loss, but I'm... an other, in a way. Not with them, not against them. I think some of them don't know what to make of that."

There are certain officers who aren't very shy about making it known they don't like him, but it's easy enough for Reid to ignore. He knows he has a certain look that doesn't instill much confidence but those who have taken the time to get to know him at work have grown to like him, to share details with him they otherwise might not have, and Reid's grateful for that. In terms of who might be more trigger happy than others, Reid can't be sure, he hasn't really looked into that because he's not Internal Affairs; but he's sure there are aggressive officers who hadn't taken the job purely to help the average citizen. There's bound to be.

"I'll leave the exact numbers to you, Agent, because I know you have them," Philip replies with a cheeky sort of grin as he takes his drink and follows Reid toward the table he's indicated, moving slowly through the room. As they walk, a young woman first glances appreciatively at Reid, then at Philip, and he smiles at her in return, making a note to go back for her if she's still around once they're done their conversation.

She's lovely, but Reid usually proves to be more interesting than lovely tends to be.

"It just seems to be common sense. If there's a set number of people willing to hurt others for pleasure, then why wouldn't some of them be drawn to a career in which they can abuse power and leverage a trusted position of authority over their intended victims," he continues as they're seated. Tubs had been a bit of a prick, after all was said and done, and maybe he was sorry at the end of his life, but there's not much value in regret in the face of death. He wasn't sorry he'd killed that boy until it seemed like he was finally going to pay for it. At least Philip can say he's never been sorry for what he's done, not even when Vera pulled the trigger of that gun.

"But you are with them, ultimately, are you not?" he asks curiously. "To serve and protect, isn't that the general idea of the police force? If they're unwilling to look past the fact that you aren't delusional enough to believe you've been born and raised there, then it's to their detriment at the end of the day. Resources are resources, regardless of where they're from."

Reid looks over his shoulder in time to catch Lombard smiling at a woman who passes and resists the urge to roll his eyes. While he doesn't much care to know the finer details of Lombard's personal life, Reid thinks it's safe to assume there's no one special somebody involved. Several special someones, maybe, but Reid suspects the only commitment Lombard is truly capable of is to himself. Loyalty and kinship, these are things that may come with eventual earnings of trust but they wouldn't be so secure that Lombard wouldn't be willing to sever them if it benefited him in some way.

That's why they could never be friends. Reid gets it, fully understands that while they can be civil with each other, maybe even friendly with each other, they've inadvertently come to know certain things that force them to get along in some strange way. Under different circumstances, Reid thinks it could be different. Maybe. As it stands, Lombard knows things he could one day decide to use against Reid and that's a danger. That's always going to be in the back of his mind, and he's sure Lombard feels the same about what he knows. Reid can't do anything about those twenty-one men, but he can keep his guard up. He can hold onto his suspicions. That, alone, would make it impossible for them to every find real trust in one another, not that Reid's looking for it.

He's already got the version of this face he prefers, accent and all. At this point, Reid finds it safer to say this is more of a keeping his potential enemies closer situation, even if he does have to grudgingly admit he's grown as fond of Lombard as he's capable of being. Reid keeps that to himself, though. It's a little too confusing to admit out loud, even to his own husband. Perhaps even especially to his own husband, considering the circumstances of Luke and Lombard's resemblance.

"Yeah, we dealt with a few officers like that when I was working with the BAU," Reid says, his hand drifting upwards to rub at his neck. There's not a very visible scar there, just a faint one that only Luke has ever gotten close enough to even make out, the doctors had done a good job; but Reid remembers exactly where the bullet had torn through flesh. Sometimes he thinks he can still feel it, in his neck and in his knee, even the start of what he fears might be a new wave of migraines. That's only during his more difficult cases, though, and thankfully, it always goes away, usually with Luke's help.

"I think it's less that I'm not from here, more that I'm not out in the field doing the dirty work every day. Sometimes, yes, I help out here and there when they're short on detectives and uniforms. But I'm with them, not one of them. I'm the guy who could potentially point fingers at them if that's what it comes to, and they'll still be fiercely protective. Of their own, not of me. We get along, for the most part, but there's still that divide, if that makes sense."

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