Emerald green eyes glinted as they focused on the professor in front of the class before they flitted back to her notebook. Instead of the notes she was supposed to be taking, there were two detailed drawings of how she imagined the crime taking place. The victims were mid-fall, for they had already been shot. Gray drops flew backwards, preparing to connect with an imaginary wall.

The killer was drawn with his gun still raised. He wore clothing similar to those of her professor's, as was his hair. The only detail she didn't add was his face, which she had replaced with a face-shaped ball of scribbles. Despite it being a graphite drawing, she could easily imagine the bright splatter of red. She could see the shock on their faces and hear the beginnings of screams that will never be expressed.

Three different captions marked the page in neat cursive, one at the top of the page, one in between the drawings, and one at the bottom.

Everyone has thought about it, but no one wants to talk about it.
Murder's part of being alive.

By your hands or by the hands of God, you've thought of taking someone's life.

Tell me, what is your design?

The trainees filed out of the classroom in organized chaos as the teacher, Will Graham, dismissed the class. Ashley Al'Ghul usually found it easy to disappear into the sea of students as they exited the cement lecture hall, but today she wasn't so lucky.

"Nu-uh, not you, Al'Ghul." Her body fought her to tense as her last name rolled off the tongue of Jack Crawford, who she hadn't even realized had entered the classroom.

Ashley turned swiftly on her heels with a wide smile. "Yes sir?"

Will glanced between the two. "Is there a problem?"

Jack turned to the teacher. "No, not yet. Special Agent Jack Crawford, I head the Behavioral Science Unit." Ashley's adrenaline threatened to spike on instinct. Not yet, insinuating there might be one soon.

"We've met," the teacher noted as Ashley patiently waited her turn.

Her forced smile widened slightly as she spoke up. "I'm sorry if you don't mind me asking, what does this have to do with me?"

Both adults seemed to finally realize that Ashley was, in fact, still present in the room.

The older of the two men turned slightly to address her. "You have the highest grades out of all the members of your class for both the physical and academic part of this program. How would you feel about fieldwork?"

Will opened his mouth to protest, but his student managed to respond first. "I wouldn't be here if I doubted that I could handle it."

Jack smiled at her straightforward response. "Good, that's what I like to hear. Will, she'll be under your supervision the whole time. You two are coming with me."

Excitement and relief bubbled inside the young girl's veins. Finally.

The second Ashley saw the pictures, she knew. If there was one thing she was good at, it was everything to do with death. "They're dead." When the two men turned to her, she felt the need to explain. "He wouldn't need a new one so often if he was...keeping them."

Will nodded. "She's right. They're um, all very 'mall of America'."

"Same hair color, same eye color. Roughly the same age. Same height, same weight. So what is it about all of these girls?"

Her teacher's voice droned on in the background as Ashley conjured them up in her head. Not you, not you, nor you or you. "Maybe it's not about any of them at all. There's someone in our killer's life that matches this profile. She's our golden ticket if you're following through on your Willy Wonka metaphor. Now can I please get back to class? If I hurry, I won't be late for the next period."

Jack nodded firmly after a moment. "Go ahead. Oh, and Al'Ghul?"

"Yes sir?"

"I want you to come to Minnesota with us."

Using two fingers, Ashley saluted the agent before disappearing out of sight, leaving the two men alone.

"Jack, you can't let her come with us! Remember what happened last time. She's not ready."

"Do you want to know what my mistake with Miriam was?" Jack's voice was loud and authoritative. Will was going to get an answer, regardless of whether or not he wanted one.

"I let her go off alone.  This time the trainee won't be alone, she'll have you. I think Ashley has a lot of potential and from what I've seen, she makes jumps that no one else but you could make. I think she could benefit from you mentoring her."

The younger man grimaced slightly. "That may require me to be...social."

Jack tossed him a sharp warning glance as if to say 'watch your tone, young man.' The teacher sighed in defeat. "But I don't really have a say in this, do I?"

Jack chuckled. "That's correct."

≈§≈

Will's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He didn't remember seeing the brunette trainee on the plane, and yet here she was waiting for him. He shook his head slightly. No, she must have been. you can't travel over 1,000 miles in seconds, after all.

Ashley glanced at her teacher with inquisitive green eyes as she turned so they were walking side by side. "Should I still be calling you Professor Graham outside of the classroom?"

Will nervously glanced around, avoiding her steely gaze. "Erm... I guess you can call me Will when we're off campus since I'm mentoring you."

Ashley shrugged slightly as she directed her gaze in front of her. "Well, I personally don't see the difference between 'mentoring' and 'teaching' besides the number of students. Mentoring is more personal, of course, but that doesn't mean the actual role has altered drastically. If me calling you by your first name makes you uncomfortable, you need to tell me."

Her words were carefully chosen as she tested the waters, but the result was still the same. Will couldn't help but feel slightly irritated despite the fact that she hadn't really done anything wrong. "I said it's fine Ashley."

She nodded slightly, making a mental note that Will could be easily irritated when nervous. Ashley fell silent as they entered the rental car and only spoke again when she judged they were close to the house of the victim.

"So...if you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you do? And don't say 'solve homicides', because that's just the result. There's got to be a reason why the FBI keeps asking for you specifically."

"No no, it's perfectly fine. Seeing as in I'm your mentor now, you have a right to know what we'll be doing. I reconstruct the thinking of the killer to ...recreate the crime in my mind exactly as it happened, like a scene from a play."

Her cold green eyes seemed to stare straight through him as she processed his words. Ashley couldn't help but pick up small details she never noticed from her spot in the back of the class, like the multiple different types of dog hair and the fact that he folded all his clothes neatly and exactly the same. The calluses on his fingers revealed that he either played a string instrument or fished often [being a guitarist herself, Ashley suspected the latter]. She carefully pocketed the information for latter purposes.

"So ... you're telling me that you're psychic."

"No no, I'm not psychic. The evidence does all the explaining. And strictly speaking, I am an empath."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Empaths are just a branch of being psychic. You pick up on people's emotions mostly through their spiritual energy. I knew a kid who does something similar." Her teasing smile dropped and she tilted her head slightly.

"Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if he likes me all that much. Though I suppose if you want a classic psychic, you'd have to talk to my friend Rachel. She does the whole nine yards...including prophecies. I don't mean the fake kind either."

Taking Will's silence as a subtle hint, Ashley stopped her rambling just as soon as it had begun. She didn't necessarily enjoy making people uncomfortable...but it was her forte. No matter where she went, people found her creepy, and her ADHD - caused - rambling annoying. Even in a camp full of kids just like her she somehow found a way to remain an outlier. She had come to prefer it, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

The car pulled to a stop and the demigod practically leaped for joy as she climbed out. She hated cars... too small and contained in her opinion. So...messy. She preferred her motorcycle or shadow traveling.

Will raised an eyebrow at the teen and she instantly stopped moving except for her fingers, which had settled for tapping her arms as she crossed them.

It was silent for a moment as they waited for Agent Crawford to pull up. Will hesitated before speaking. "You have ADHD, don't you?"

Ashley frowned slightly. "Is it that obvious? Here I was thinking I was doing so well." Her tone was slightly sarcastic and bitter as she glanced to the sky, almost as if she were cursing the heavens for their betrayal.

Her teacher chuckled. "Oh, you were. I highly doubt anyone else will notice. Umm when we get inside, I want you to mostly just watch what I do. I guess I'll just answer any questions when we finish and proceed from there."

Ashley tilted her head slightly. "You've never mentored anyone before, have you?"

" Is it that obvious? Here I was thinking I was doing so well," Will stated, quoting Ashley's earlier statement. Her green eyes narrowed in response before diverting their gaze as Agent Crawford finally arrived. It's showtime.