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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?"
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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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."
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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.
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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."
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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?"
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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."
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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."
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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.
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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."
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"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.
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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.
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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.
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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."
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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."