[3 am in Rome means 9 pm on the East Coast. The e-mail will sit unread for another nine hours, and when he finally gets to it the next morning it very nearly gets pushed into the spam filter but at the last minute he hesitates, finger hovering tensly over the mouse.
Eloquois. He knows that name.
Mouth going a little bit dry at the possibility, Reid quietly archives the e-mail. It's 8 am. An hour and a half to go and he finds himself hoping that this isn't just a case of crossed wires. He hasn't allowed himself to think about it too much until now, mostly out of fear that there is really something seriously wrong with him but with that e-mail... it comes back.
And so he waits, anxiously, peering at his phone so often that he manages to annoy the crap out of Emily where she sits at the desk opposite his. He mumbles an apology before slipping the phone into his pocket, pushing his chair back a bit so he can have a quick escape should that call come. Just a few minutes to go.]