#aperrywilliams

It's already late at night. The apartment is dimly lit by the soft glow of some candles and the reflection of an old movie playing on the TV. A movie that neither you nor Spencer is paying attention to now, more focused on the make-out session that's been going on for a while.

And although the scene might seem completely normal for a couple during a random Friday night, given the circumstances surrounding the last few months, it is not.

This precise week marks three months since Spencer was released from Milburn, after being incarcerated for a crime he didn't commit.

The story sounds like something out of a soap opera, but the truth is, it was much more like a horror movie. Spencer went through dreadful things inside, and although you and the team worked day and night to get him out, it wasn't possible until three months later.

You knew the man who came out of there wouldn't be the same one who went in. You could see it in the few visits you were allowed to pay to him while he was locked out. Spencer insisted you not come anymore because he didn't want to expose you to seeing him in that place and in that vulnerable state.

Although you tried to reason with him about it, you finally gave in because you didn't want to stress him out more than he already was, even though it would only increase your anxiety.

And it did.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that, though. You still don't.

He did write you letters. It was the only communication between you both until the day he was released.

By the way he recounted part of his time in there - because you knew he wouldn't tell you the gruesome details - you knew things would never be the same again.

Granted, you have been a consolidated couple for years now, but traumatic events like this can change everything, put things upside down. You weren't worried about you, though. You love Spencer, and what happened to him will never change that. Your concern was about him.

The day Emily asked you, JJ, and Luke to pick up Spencer was a collision of emotions. Excitement for seeing him again, happiness for the love of your life getting his freedom back, frustration for not doing this sooner, and worry. Worry because you didn't know exactly how he would react. Yeah, as a free man, you'd suppose he would be happy, but it's Spencer, a man consumed by his own brain, a brain that more usually than not tends to sabotage him.

The time dragged slowly as you waited outside Milburn Correctional. You told JJ to go for him, since she was one of the few people Spencer let see him while he was locked up. You probably should have felt bad about not being you. Yet, you were more concerned about Spencer's comfort than your own. People would say it wasn't fair to you, but you can deal with it.

The moment Spencer saw you waiting for him with Penelope, life regained its meaning again. Without a second thought, Spencer rushed towards you and enveloped you in his arms. A tight embrace overdue for months.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Spencer mumbled into the crook of your neck. Fresh tears running down and wetting your shirt.

You hugged him just as tightly, assuring him there was nothing to apologize for. Assuring him that things would be alright and that you weren't going anywhere. Leaning back a bit, he looked at you, eyes glazed and lips trembling.

"I love you," he mumbled before crushing his lips into yours.

You knew Spencer was going to have a difficult road to healing, but you vowed to be by his side throughout the entire process.

That night, after his release and having spent the rest of the afternoon at the BAU catching up on his case and the next steps, Spencer was truly exhausted. And so were you. You couldn't remember the last time you'd had a decent meal in weeks. While you whipped up something quick to eat, Spencer took a long shower.

Sitting on the couch, you ate in silence. You didn't want to overwhelm Spencer with questions he might not be ready to answer. He didn't say much either, only asking a few trivial questions about the BAU's recent cases while he was gone. 'Small talk,' he jokingly called it. Chukling, you nodded along, and the conversation didn't go beyond that.

When you finally decided to go to bed, you were unsure if he'd want to sleep in the same bed as you, so you gave him plenty of space to decide. Once you saw him under the covers, opening his arms to invite you to snuggle up next to him, you sighed with relief.

You cuddle with him like the little spoon, basking in his warm, something you'd missed for months. You didn't remember sleeping so well in such a long time.

-

Two things Spencer wasn't happy about, but that Emily wasn't going to let slide, were the mandatory leave and the therapy sessions. That meant Spencer should spend a lot of time at home while the rest of the team went out of town to solve cases—you included.

It wasn't your first choice. Indeed, you asked Emily for time off, and she granted it, but after a week, Spencer insisted you get back to work and not worry about him.

A little paranoia crept in. Did Spencer not want you around? You understood he was going through an adjustment period; did he feel suffocated by you?

The signs were confusing because, while you were away, Spencer was the one texting you to see how you were doing, and he was the first to hug you and tell you how much he missed you every time you came back.

But when you offered to skip a case to stay, he wouldn't let you.

Again, 'adjustment,' you thought.

So you didn't argue with him much about it. You preferred to cherish the time you could spend together when work didn't get in the way. And all that was fine, except that as the weeks went by, you began to notice how Spencer didn't go beyond tender hugs, stolen kisses, and cuddling on the sofa or in bed with you. The intimacy you had wasn't what it used to be, or rather, it was nonexistent except for the occasional displays of affection.

You understood that sex was perhaps the last thing on your boyfriend's list of priorities. You weren't going to force him into something he didn't want to do, although you also couldn't ignore the fact that you missed him and felt frustrated.

Despite that, you never brought it up and only tried to move things forward when he initiated something. Some nights, when the kisses went from tender to more passionate, and you thought it might take things to the next level, without warning, Spencer would hold back and casually remind himself that he had something to do, apologizing and leaving you there.

Okay, you thought, he's not ready yet. You'll be patient, although a nagging feeling started to settle: what if he is not attracted to you in that way now? Maybe he's being polite because he doesn't want to hurt your feelings by saying you're not desirable to him anymore.

That would hurt like hell, but it's a possibility.

But the mixed signals continue happening. Some days, Spencer would be the clingy one, having you in his arms, holding your hand, circling your waist, and giving you kisses that stole your breath. Others, he would be distant and barely acknowledge your presence.

You thought about talking to him, but what if doing so, he shuts down and pushes you away completely?

It was a high risk you weren't sure to take.

One night, you arrived home from a case early, and Spencer didn't hear you come in.

After the routine of peeling off your coat and shoes, you padded to find your boyfriend, but you froze when you passed by the ajar bathroom door and heard a grunt coming from inside. You peeked quietly to see what was happening. You saw Spencer standing in front of the toiled, slacks pooling at his ankles, a hand on the wall, bracing himself, and the other stroking his hard cock.

"So good. Just like that. Please. You're doing so good for me," he chants, over and over, fastening his pace. And when he moaned your name, it ignited a fire you haven't felt in a long time. He was pleasuring himself, thinking of you.

It was a bittersweet taste, to be honest. On one hand, Spencer was thinking about you while jerking off, but on the other, he didn't need you to pleasure him.

You quietly backed away and headed to the kitchen before you saw your boyfriend finish. You weren't sure if seeing him orgasming would only worsen your intrusive thoughts.

He got startled when he came out of the bathroom and saw you in the kitchen. A glass of water in your hand, and a gaze lost in the view from the window.

"Hey. I didn't hear you in. I thought the briefing would last longer."

You exhaled. Is it worth bringing this up? It's not a big deal. Everyone has the right to masturbate when they want. You did sometimes when Spencer was locked away. But the point he's avoiding you doesn't help your peace of mind.

"Emily thought we got enough from this case and sent us home," you muttered, sipping the water to cover the waver in your voice.

"Fair enough," Spencer acknowledged. Voice quiet, observing you. "Are you okay?"

Were you?

You shouldn't make a big deal out of it; after all, it's natural. But the insecurities that have been building up lately are making you uneasy, and you don't know how long you'll be able to keep them under control.

"Yeah. Just tired. I think I'm going to bed."

Spencer doesn't even question your answer or ask if you ate anything beforehand. It's as if he knows what's going on, but he doesn't bring it up.

"Okay".

That night, there's no goodnight kiss, no cuddling, no sleeping in each other's arms. Only silence, and a cold that not even the thick comforter can ward off.

-

It wasn't intentional, but in the days that followed, you kept your distance from Spencer. It's difficult when you live together, and even more so now that he's back at work at the BAU. Neither of you has wanted to address the elephant in the room, and that makes you glum. You feel it's selfish of you to point out the distance between you, but you don't know how to put it into words. You're afraid you might say something you'll regret.

You can feel Spencer watching you these past few days. He's tried to make physical contact with you, holding your hand, kissing your forehead, and tentatively kissing your lips. Still, he understands something's going on, and he knows exactly what it is. And he's decided to make it up to you.

In the afternoon, Spencer came to your desk to let you know he was leaving early because he had a therapy session. It didn't seem strange to you, since Emily had kept it as a requirement for him even after he returned to work.

"Okay," you acknowledged. "Do you want me to pick up dinner today?"

"No. I'll do it. I don't think it takes me long." Before he turned to leave, he planted a gentle kiss on your mouth. "I love you."

Your lips curled up slightly. "Love you, too."

Again, nothing seemed unusual, very typical of you guys lately.

It's not until two hours later that you finish your final report, drop it off at Emily's office, and head home. On the way, you think about Spencer and how to deal with the things you both know remain unspoken. Perhaps this is your new dynamic, and you'll have to decide whether you can accept it for your life together.

But when you open the door of your shared apartment, something feels different. The lights are dimmed, you can smell the freshly cooked food, and you see Spencer standing in the middle of the living room, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"What is this?" You ask, confusion crossing your features. Spencer clears his throat and takes some steps to get closer.

"I know things have been strange between us lately. I mean, since I got out, it's been difficult to adapt to this new life. And I know I have failed in keeping the flame, if that is the right way to put it."

"Spence-" you want to argue.

"It's okay. You can say it. I would be equally frustrated if I were you. My point is, I love you, and I want you. That has never changed. Please, don't think you did something wrong because that's not true. The other day, when you heard me in the bathroom, I - I know you did, and I should have said something. I’m sorry.”

Spencer looks really apologetic, and you think it's unfair that you have been acting coldly toward him. On the other hand, though, the intrusive idea of not being enough for him anymore is still lingering there.

"I, uh—I don't know what to say. I don't want to sound selfish or make you feel guilty about what happened. I understand it's a lot, I really do." You try to explain. "The last thing I want is for you to feel obligated to do something just so you don't disappoint me."

Spencer shook his head. "No, my love. It's not like that. Let me make it up to you, please?"

He extends the flowers to you as an offer of real apology. Nodding, you take the bouquet, a smile forming on your lips.

"Thank you," you murmur.

"No, thank you," he counters, offering you his hand. "I want tonight to be just for the two of us. We deserve it."

You take his proposal and follow him to the kitchen, where he has everything settled for dinner: a delicious meal, wine, and candles. The whole nine yards.

Although you notice Spencer still seems nervous, after laughing throughout dinner about all the silly things that came up, he seems more at ease and more like himself. That’s a relief and allows you to enjoy the moment.

The good time continues when you decide to watch a movie, sprawled on the couch.

It only takes Spencer's arm around your shoulders five minutes into the movie to make you feel like you're melting. You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes are already fixed on you, hungry, pupils dilated. You close your eyes, and that's enough of a signal for Spencer to close the gap and kiss you with pent-up passion.

-

Wandering hands looking for something to hold on to. Spencer supports the back of your head with a hand, while the other roams your chest without breaking the kiss. The moan scaping your mouth is nasty, even muffled by Spencer’s lips. He doesn't do better, grunting when you swing a leg over his lap, putting a bit of friction in his hard cock.

“God, I missed you,” he mutters, lips traveling down your jaw. You feel like you could explode just from the heated making out, the shameless moans, and the desperation in Spencer's voice.

Enboldened by the moment, you shift to straddle Spencer’s lap, bracketing his legs with your thighs. Arms around his neck, you’re kissing him with equal desperation. Not even noticing when you start to bounce on him.

Spencer grunts, hands landing on your ass cheeks to control your humping.

But you need more, that’s why your hands leave Spencer’s neck and fly to the buttons of his shirt. The garment does nothing but create a barrier you don't want to have right now. Spencer is nibbling your collarbone when the first button pops open, but as fast as you’re working on the second button, you feel him freeze. Mouth still latched on to your skin, but going still. Suddenly, you can feel how his breath quickens, but it doesn't have to do with arousal; you’re sure of it.

Parting to lean back and look at him, he does the same, and you see him go all nervous.

"Spencer, baby, what is it?" He shakes his head.

"No. Nothing. It's okay. I'm okay," he leans forward to latch onto your neck, in hopes you can forget his lapsus. And while he's nipping that sweet spot, you almost do.

But when your hands come back to undo the buttons of his shirt, you feel how he tenses again.

No. This is not okay.

You stop your motions, putting some distance between you to get a better look at him. Spencer huffs in frustration.

"We don't have to go further if you don't want to, okay?" you gently assure him, stroking his cheek.

A bitter laugh escapes his lips. “Do we?” It's sarcastic and full of resentment. Resentment at you? You’re not sure. "How come you're not upset?”

“What are-” You don’t get to finish your question when Spencer holds you off his lap and rises from the couch, running his hands through his hair.

“I don't understand why, really. I'm upset with myself, damn it! Be mad at me!" He starts to pace in the middle of the living room.

Since he came back from his incarceration, you have never seen him like this. It's like he has reached the breaking point you were expecting, but aren’t prepared for.

"Mad at you? For not wanting to have sex with me?" you ask for clarification, and he nods. "Spencer, I can't be mad at you for that."

"Why not?" He hastens to ask back. His hands are trembling, and you’re not sure if touching him would push him further into his spiral.

"Ah, let me guess. It is because I'm a victim? Someone fragile that can be broken, isn’t it?”

There it is.

"W-what? No! Where do you get that from? That's not-" You try to explain, but Spencer is already cutting you off again.

"Come on! I have seen you. Since I got out. You have been walking on eggshells around me." His tone is accusative, and you feel it’s unfair after the months you have been looking only for his comfort.

"I just - For God’s sake! I have been doing it because I don't want to push you to do something you don't want to do! That’s a crime now?”

Spencer huffs like you’re talking nonsense.

"But I want to! Can't you see it? Fuck!" he grunts, still pacing around the room, hands fisting at his sides as if he’s physically restraining himself. "I do want to! God, I have wanted to for months!"

You scratch your neck trying to piece things together, so you can say something useful to this argument. However, you are only getting Spencer’s frustration, and it’s not helping.

"Spencer, you literally flinched when I touched you two minutes ago. What is supposed I must think?"

Spencer’s pace stops briefly. You have a point, he doesn't know how to explain, though.

"I - It's not because I don't want to touch you! I'm dying to do it. I miss you so much it hurts."

His voice wavers, as if it physically pains him to say the words.

A heavy ache settles in your heart when you hear him talking like that. You have only been trying to be understanding and patient, but you're literally blind right now.

"So why then? Why are we arguing about this? Why are you conflicted?"

Spencer takes a moment to collect his thoughts. His own fears surfacing over and over again. He sits at the edge of the coffee table, face buried in his hands.

"I'm scared, okay? I'm scared about what I can do to you. I don't want to hurt you," Spencer muffles the words hidden behind his hands.

You freeze. Does he really think that? Did you say or do anything to him that made him feel that way?

No, he can't think like that. You drop to your knees, prying his hands off so you can see his eyes.

"Spencer. Baby, please look at me."

"No. I can't,” he whines.

"Yes. Yes, you can. Please, do it for me?"

Spencer slowly obeys and removes his hands from covering his face. His eyes are glassy red, his cheeks flushed, and his jaw clenched.

“Talk to me, please. Why didn't you tell me sooner that you were feeling this way?”

A heavy exhale escapes Spencer’s lips.

“You didn't ask,” he whispers, eyes averting yours. Your jaw tightens, even if you know Spencer is only trying to deflect.

“I didn’t-? Okay, that’s not fair, and you know it. I didn't ask because I thought you trusted me and you would come to me when you were ready.”

An assumption that clearly didn't work this time.

“I know. I know. I just - I just thought I needed a bit of time. That things would get the same as they were, and we wouldn't have to have this conversation,” Spencer admits, and his words hit you harder than they should.

“Why not? You don’t trust me enough to tell me these things? I thought we were a couple, Spencer. One that already passed the trust issues.”

“It's not about trust issues,” he mutters as if saying that would be enough for you to believe him.

“Then what is it? Because I can’t think of another explanation. Unless-” you pause a bit because it scares you, telling what you are thinking aloud. “Unless you don’t think I deserve that position anymore?”

Spencer’s frown is immediate. “What? To deserve what position?”

“Of being your partner. And if you reached that conclusion in these months, I get it. Maybe I should have asked sooner or done something, I don't know. If I didn't do it, it wasn't for lack of love; I just thought I was giving you space.”

A treacherous tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek. The mere sight of it makes Spencer sick to his stomach.

Spencer carefully grabs your wrists and helps you stand up with him, guiding you back to the couch and sitting down beside you.

“Please listen to me. I know I've avoided this topic and haven't told you everything that happened in there. But none of it is your fault, do you understand? None of it.”

You sniffle, although the effort you’re making not to.

“Understandably, you have questions. And the truth is, I've taken advantage of your patience and comprehension to avoid talking about my fears after everything that happened. I'm sorry for that. But please, if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that you're my partner, my person, the love of my life. You always have been, and you always will be.”

You are openly crying now, and Spencer, without thinking twice, wraps you in his arms to comfort you.

Muffling your voice against his chest.m, you murmur, “Why are you afraid then? Why do you think you can do harm to me?”

Spencer sighs, his lips on your hair, giving you a small kiss before pulling away to look at you.

“It's just—how do I put it? Whenever something bad happens in my life, it's like a part of me goes to a dark place, and I don't mean it like evil. It's more like it goes into hiding and becomes unpredictable. You've seen it: Hankel, Gideon, Maeve.”

You nod because you've been there for each of those moments.

“And being in that place, with the people we worked so hard to put there, made me question whether maybe that place took more of me than I think it actually did. That terrifies me, because it's a place of pure violence and survival. What if my unpredictable side gets mixed up with that and I end up losing control and becoming violent and unmindful with you? I’m afraid of losing control while we- you know-”

Spencer trails off, feeling he’s stumbling with his own thoughts and words. But you get it now. There's no need to say more when you already understand where his greatest fear lies.

A loving hand rests on his cheek. Your eyes fill with understanding and more love than you thought possible for him. Of course, Spencer Reid would put your well-being above his own needs and desires. But just as considerate as he is, so too is his lack of self-awareness, as the great person he is. Something you've witnessed over the years, and it's always a challenge.

"Hey,” you call him, so he can look at you. “First of all, you won't hurt me. And do you know why I'm so sure about that?" Spencer shakes his head no. "Because I know you. Because no matter what happened in there. No matter how much you feel that place has changed you right now. You are a good person, Spencer. And that is in your bones. No one can touch that, because it's what makes you who you are. Even when you feel losing control.”

"Are you not afraid that I can-?"

"I’m not. There is something I am afraid of, though, about you shutting me out. That scares me the most. You know why?”

Spencer shakes his head no.

“Because as long as we can talk about this, we can find a way to make it work. And that’s a lesson for me too. I kept things to myself and created my own mental hell instead of talking to you.”

“We have been messing this up, haven’t we?” Spencer mutters, a shade of pink adorning his cheeks as one hand caresses your arm. A light laugh escapes your lips.

“Definitely,” you say feaking seriousness.

“Crap,” he huffs, and you giggle. Spencer puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you towards him.

Kissing the top of your head, he mutters, “I’m sorry. For everything, and because I ruined the night, too.”

“I wouldn’t say that. At least the meal was delicious,” you tease, trying to light the mood. Spencer rolls his eyes.

“You're being too lenient with this situation, don't you think?”

“And you think I won't get my revenge?” You say with a mischievous tone. Spencer chokes on his saliva.

“What?” You part from his embrace to see his flustered face. With a smile, your fingers intertwine with his.

“Tell you what. We’re going to get there, but we’ll start slow, okay. We don't have to do the whole thing right away.”

Spencer understands perfectly what you mean, and although he thanks all the deities of the universe for having someone so willing to take things slowly, that doesn't soothe his carnal desperation.

“Slow? Are you sure?”

“Don't say it like it’s only me who is desperate here,” you deadpan. Spencer chuckles. “But I think baby steps will make the journey more pleasurable for both of us,” you say, pumping up your eyebrows. A real laugh erupts from Spencer’s chest.

“You're amazing, you know that?”

“And that's why you love me,” you say cokily.

“And for more and beyond,” Spencer adds. “What’s your plan, though?”

A playful smirk appears on your face. You perch closer to Spencer, arms loosening around his neck, lips kissing his earlobe before whispering something into his ear, only for him to hear. As the words leave your mouth, Spencer’s cheeks redden, and his breathing picks up.

"Oh, Lord.” Spencer’s voice wavers, completely enchanted by your words.

"Is it okay with you?" You check, already knowing the answer.

"M- more than okay."

"Then relax, baby. I'm going to take care of you tonight."

---------------

You can't say you are thrilled about staying in Virginia when all of your team is fighting crime on the other side of the country. Not when it has been ten days since they are gone. Not when you haven't seen your husband that long because he happens to work on the same team.

It's not that you had another option, though. Considering you are almost in your 21st week of pregnancy, your doctor advised you to take it slow on the job. That means being on the field miles away from home became a big no, and this time, you had to settle for nightly phone calls and daily texts with Spencer.

So it doesn't surprise anyone to see the happiness on your face when Hotch calls around midday, announcing that the case is over and they are flying home.

Penelope, always the joyful human being on Earth, immediately got on board with Rossi to host a gathering in his mansion once they were back tonight. Of course, Rossi agreed. Virtually no one can say no to Penelope.

"Okay, mama-genius," she says after ending the call with David. "We have a party tonight and a lot of things to do."

You may be worried about what 'a lot' can imply, but it is just a saying. Penelope will do most of it anyway, claiming you can't do any strenuous task so as not to bother baby-genius. Since the moment you and Spencer told the team about the baby's coming, Garcia baptized you all: papa-genius, mama-genius, and baby-genius. You find it the cutest thing in the world.

Walking through the supermarket aisles, you get everything you'll need: snacks, alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, and all the stuff. And with the cart full, Penelope sends you home to get ready.

"But Pen, you need help to set all this up."

"Don't worry, honey. I already have Anderson waiting for me at Rossi's. The benefits of having a spare key," she proudly says, dangling her keychain full of keys. "Now go! Go to get ready for your man. I know you have been missing him like crazy."

She is not wrong in the slightest, so you don't fight her. A bath sounds nice right now, and with all the pregnancy going on, you'll need the extra time to get ready.

-

Ten days have been torture for Spencer Reid. It's the longest he has been apart from you since you guys discovered you are pregnant. Sure, phone calls and texts help, but it's not enough. Not to the overprotective Spencer, anyway. It's not that he doesn't trust you; he does. But his mind always works in overdrive, and he worries more than he should. Not to mention, he has missed you like he hasn't seen you in months.

When Rossi tells the team the plans for the night once they arrive, Spencer is a bit disappointed. He would have preferred to go straight home to be with you. But when JJ assures him you will be there, his apprehensions change to anticipation.

The kind of anticipation that keeps him anxious until everyone arrives at Rossi's past 8 p.m. They were a little bit late for the estimated time, but the traffic was hell today.

A happy Penelope opens the door before Rossi can reach his key.

"Welcome home, mon amis."

"My home, you say?" the old man corrects, no real annoyance in his voice.

"Share is care, so our home is," Garcia retorts, effusively hugging every team member crossing the threshold. The last one is Spencer. "Your woman is waiting for you," she whispers to him after almost crushing him in her embrace.

Spencer practically runs to the living room, where you are greeting everyone. His eyes nearly can't give credit to what he sees. Of course, he knows how you look. He has known you for years and has memorized every detail of you: your height, the way your head leans when you're listening to someone, the color of your eyes, the way you smile, your expressive hands, and every curve of your body. But today? Something looks different, alluring, magnetic, and so entrancing.

His brain has a suitable explanation for it. Sure, when you haven't seen your partner in days, you tend to enhance every detail you love about them. 'Love hormones,' others would say. But no, this is more than psychology and chemistry.

Pregnancy has made changes in you. It was expected, and Spencer knows that, but reading it in a book is way different than seeing it for himself. Sure, there were the headaches and the morning sickness in the early stages. Adding the mood swings and fatigue. But nothing prepared him for the body changes. And not in the bad way people must think, all the opposite. To Spencer, pregnancy has made you the most sexy woman in the world. And after ten days of being deprived of those changes, to him, all come at once. Your breasts got bigger, and you definitely started to show more. The sundress you're wearing just enhances those details, and Spencer feels like he can faint right there.

When your eyes meet across the room, his breath hitches; those eyes he loves so much are glowing and chanting a spell Spencer won't escape from. Not that he wants to, anyway.

Shameless, you leave your conversation with Prentiss and Luke and run to your husband, throwing your arms around his neck.

"I missed you," you murmur into his neck. Spencer hugs you back and closes his eyes, relishing how good you smell and how good it is to have you in his arms again. "We missed you," you add.

The mention of your unborn child melts Spencer on the spot. "I missed you both, too," he manages to say, reluctantly parting from your embrace to look at you and get lost in your eyes again. "I love you," he whispers, leaning to capture your lips with his. And just like that, the anti-PDA, Spencer Reid, indulges himself in kissing you in front of everyone.

The teasing from the team around is only background noise, and neither Spencer nor you are very concerned about it. Not until you involuntarily tug his hair, and Spencer needs to do everything in his power to stop the groan threatening to escape his lips.

Parting and clearing your throats, you both try to regain composure. All the team's eyes are on you, but the only one who dares to point out the obvious is Rossi.

"I have a guest room upstairs, at the second door down the hall."

The comment causes the team to laugh and you to be mortified.

"Sorry," you both mumble, a deep shade of crimson adorning your cheeks. Grabbing your hand, Spencer pulls you to a corner. You're still in sight of the people but far enough to talk and not be listened to.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He points to your baby's belly. It's not an accusatory question, more like an excited one.

"I wanted it to be a surprise. I would have liked to be in a more private setting, but I wasn't going to miss being here and waiting for you at home to show you."

Spencer's hand rests over your now prominent belly and rubs soothing patterns there. "It's amazing," he admits. "How are you feeling?"

You let out a content sigh, feeling the warmth emanating from your husband's palm to your lower stomach.

"Much better now you're here."

"They haven't done much trouble, have they?"

"Nah. Behaves like an angel." And it's the truth. The second trimester has been much better than the previous one: no morning sickness, less fatigue, and it has been great.

There are other 'issues' though. The boost of energy has been paired with an increase in your libido that sometimes is very hard to control. The times Spencer is around, having sex can be enough, but with days passing and with the tenderness and care Spencer has been touching you, it's getting hard to satiate your most primal needs. You know he does it because he doesn't want to hurt you, but even if you have assured him you won't break, he hesitates nonetheless.

And now, after all these days without him, you are sure another touch from him, even the most innocent, will set your body on fire. You are sure this night will be excessively long.

Spencer's thoughts are not very different from yours. The moment he sees you in your sundress walking to him was enough to make his mind wander.

"OK, mister. Enough lovebirds' moment for now. The girls need their time, too." Without warning, Penelope grabs your hand to lead you to the group where Tara, Emily, and JJ are.

You can only shrug to Spencer as Penelope drags you from him. Spencer gives you a reassuring smile. It's fine; you are both adults, he reminds himself. How can it be so difficult to keep his hands to himself for a couple of hours?

Easier said than done, he'll realize.

Neither of you can't help the stolen glances across the room or the subtle smiles you share as you talk to the team at different spots in the house.

Spencer doesn't know if he can control himself much longer. You look stunning and tempting, and his mind starts to fill with unholy things he wants to do to you.

"Reid?" Luke's worried voice gets him out of his mental predicament.

"I - uh. I'm sorry, what did you say?" 

"Are you alright, man? You seem distracted."

If alright means extremely horny and with an incipient boner tightening his pants, then yes, he's more than alright.

"Yes. Yeah. Uh - I'll grab some water. Excuse me, I'll be right back."

The trip to the bathroom is quick and mildly effective: Splashing cold water on his face and reciting the Declaration of Independence in his mind, Spencer regains some composure and gets back to where the people—and you—are.

The night continues in the same way. It's not like you are openly teasing him, but Spencer can't help himself.

The last straw comes when you're in the backyard talking to JJ and Emily, and you're laughing so hard that your body jolts, making your breasts bounce a bit, exposing more of your cleavage. It's not that evident to anyone, but for Spencer, who has been gawking at you all night, it is clear as day.

He wants you, and he wants you now.

Spencer sets his glass of water on the table and strolls where you are. Giving JJ and Emily a tight-lip smile, he leans to whisper something in your ear. The girls can't hear what it is, but the flush in your cheeks should give them an idea.

"Yeah, it's kind of late. And yeah, I'm feeling a bit tired," you tell Spencer, now looking at the girls, not wanting to disclose what Spencer actually said.

"Sure, carrying a baby Reid must be exhausting," Emily teases, gaining a roll of eyes from Spencer.

"Go, guys. Don't worry; I think I'll leave soon, too," JJ says, and you nod gratefully to avoid making more uncomfortable the moment.

With a tight grip on your hand, Spencer walks with you to say goodbye to everybody. Then, no later than that, you hop on the Uber, already waiting outside Rossi's.

-

All the ride home, Spencer's hand rests firmly on your tigh. His eyes can't peel off of you. All of you. It's like he hasn't seen you in months and wants to memorize each feature. You look back at him with a mix of amusement and self-consciousness. The lust is all written on his gaze, but there is something more, too. Love, longing, reverence. It's like there isn't anything else in the world but you.

The thought only fuels how much you love him and, of course, how horny you feel. Is it hot in this car, or is that just your idea? Why is the ride taking longer than you would like? You're about to huff in protest when the vehicle stops at your destination. Thanks God!

Spencer never falters his grip on you all the time. You can feel him everywhere: on your hand as you take the stairs, on your lower back walking down the hall, on your shoulder when you fish the key in your purse.

As the door shuts behind you, Spencer's lips are on yours in an instant. Kissing you hard. Like he's a drowning man, and you are the air he needs.

"God, you don't know how hard it was to control myself," Spencer mumbles, now peppering wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone.

"Hard, uh? Well, I guess I have an idea," you say, palming him over his slacks, making him hiss.

"Don't tease me, please," Spencer growls between kisses as he walks you both through the apartment to your bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in your path.

"I'm not, baby. I promise I'm not. I'm as desperate as you are." You're not lying. Your body has been on fire the whole night. You want him as much as he wants you right now.

When your legs hit the bed, you're both only in your underwear.

Spencer breaks the kiss to look at you. The bedroom is only lit by the hallway lights. He reaches for the nightstand to switch the lamp on, but before he does, you stop him.

"Can we just-" You don't finish the sentence, but Spencer understands what you're asking for.

"Yeah. We can, of course. But what's wrong?"

It's not the first time you have sex with the room's lights off, but those times, neither of you has explicitly requested it. You usually don't have trouble with Spencer seeing you naked, but since you got pregnant and your body started to change, you don't feel sexy, and it is mining your confidence. Spencer's suspicion goes in that same direction.

"Nothing," you say, pulling him to kiss him again with the same passion as before. Spencer almost surrenders at your doing, but he stops.

"Hey," he whispers. "Talk to me."

You sit on the mattress, knowing you have to tell him what's bothering you. He sits by your side, patiently waiting for you to collect your thoughts and choose your words.

After some seconds of deliberation, it is you who switches the lamp on. Standing from the bed, you plant yourself in front of Spencer.

"What do you see?" you ask, with your hands on your hips.

Spencer's eyes rack your body from head to toe, especially double-taking your lower stomach, where your pregnant belly is. The answer is obvious to him.

"My perfect and sexy wife, standing almost naked in front of me, trying to kill me because I can't touch her yet."

You roll your eyes, huffing. "Spencer, be serious, please."

"I am! Baby, I don't know why you could think I'm not being honest with you."

There is a scold on the tip of your tongue, but you relent, changing it for a deep sigh.

"But look at me! These-" you say, eyes darting between your breast and the skin of your stomach. "There is no chance this is sexy. I'm bloated half of the time; my skin feels gross, and the stretch marks are more every day. And my tits! God, if I unhook my bra, they are going to fall to the floor!"

It's true, your body isn't the same as it was a couple of months ago, and it'll probably continue to change as the weeks go by, but for Spencer, that doesn't make you any less attractive or desirable—quite the opposite.

"Hey, look at me, please," Spencer asks in a soft voice. You do as he says, now feeling more exposed in front of him. Spencer notices and takes your hands to bring you closer to him.

"You know you're carrying a human being in your womb, right?" he asks, tracing soft patterns with his finger over the skin of your arms. "That makes your body not look or feel the way it usually does. But it's perfectly natural, and I'm sure you know that." Spencer stops to kiss your stomach. "What you don't seem to know is that every change makes you more perfect than you already are. Love, you are perfect for who you are, and your body is perfect because it's yours—stretch marks or not, breasts enlarged or not, swollen or not."

"You have to say that," you complain with an adorable pout, and Spencer chuckles.

“I have to say that because it's true. Did I lie to you before?” You shake your head no. “Exactly.”

He pulls you to him so you can sit on his lap. Your arms rest loosely around his neck. He looks up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

“Love. You look amazing. Gorgeous. And so so sexy. I have been craving to touch you all night, renegaded to only see you from afar. That's torture,” Spencer says, lips hovering over your jaw before trailing down loving kisses—the feel of his wet lips pushing your heart rate to go up.

“You don't know what you do to me, do you? All these days thinking about you, what it's like to have you in my arms, what it's like to be able to kiss you, to smell you.” Spencer says, his fingers dancing over the patch of exposed skin of your breasts still clad in your bra. His lips sucking on that special spot on your neck. You can't help the nasty moan that leaves your mouth.

His eyes search yours for permission when one of his hands rests on the clasp of your bra. You nod, and he unclasps it, revealing your full breasts to him. You swear you hear him whimper at the sight, just as you feel him twitch beneath your thighs.

“Fuck, darling. They are so perfect. So round, so full, so soft,” Spencer praises as his mouth latches to one of your nipples and, with one hand, squeezes the flesh of your other breast. “I couldn’t stop all night thinking about doing this. Claiming these perfect tits.”

“Spencer, fuck!” you moan when he sucks harder. “Yes!”

“So sensitive. These tits are all mine,” Spencer mumbles as he switches his mouth from one nipple to the other.

He keeps lapping, swirling his tongue, sucking. It's like he can't have enough of it. And you can feel it in your bones.

'Extasis' keeps it short to explain how you feel right now. Just with the use of his mouth, Spencer is already pushing you close to the edge. In the back of your mind, you can hear his voice explaining how nipple stimulation can produce orgasms. You didn't think it would be possible at the time, but now you're nearing experiencing it.

"Spence, please. Just -"

One of his hands travels south, leaving goosebumps in its wake until it reaches the waistband of your panties.

“Tell me what you need, baby. And I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you to touch me,” you mewl, your voice cracking with desire.

“Here?” Spencer teases, trailing feather touches across your inner thigh. His mouth marks your neck, his favorite spot on you.

“More. Please, don’t make beg,” you plead. Spencer’s smirk could tell he was not done with the teasing. But in all honesty, he doesn't know how much he can contain himself.

“My baby is desperate already. Let's see how much.” A hand sneaks under your panties, and the slick pooling there tells Spencer everything he needs to know.

“Fuck, you’re soaked. It’s all for me?” He cockily asks as his fingers tease your folds. You gasp at the contact of his fingers on you.

“For you only. Spencer, I’m yours. Always.”

“And I am yours. No matter what. I love you so much,” Spencer says, now claiming your mouth with a searing kiss. It's like he wants to devour you whole, beyond the physics laws, if it's possible.

You let yourself go, kissing him urgently, your fingers tangled in his hair, giving experimental tugs, which Spencer rewards with grunts of pleasure.

You don't realize when you start rocking on his lap, seeking more friction from his fingers.

Spencer continues his assault on your center, alternating the thrusting of his fingers in and out with rubbing against your clit.

"Oh, God!" You whine, not fully believing how good it feels.

“So good, my love. So so good,” Spencer chants. His free hand on your back, maneuvering to lay you down on the mattress without stopping his ministrations in your pussy, and latching his lips to the crook of your neck. The new position allows him to reach deeper inside you with his fingers, massaging that spongy spot that makes you see stars.

“Right there! Oh, please.” You are on the verge of falling, your body surrending to Spencer’s experimented touch. He knows your body better than you.

Your moans go straight to Spencer’s cock, twitching inside his boxers, rock-hard and screaming for attention, but he has a mission before ever thinking of his pleasure. He needs you to come on his fingers first.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?”

“Yes! I’m so - so close,” you cry.

“I can feel you clenching on my fingers. That's it. Let go, my love. Cum for me; let me feel you,” Spencer encourages, and it's the last push you need. Your vision goes white, and your body starts to shake. The coil snaps and flows your body with waves of pleasure.

“Fuck! Yes!” You cry as your orgasm travels through your body. “Spencer! Yes!”

Spencer doesn’t stop the in and out of his fingers, still rubbing your clit, at a slower pace, helping you to ride it out. His breath is hot on your neck, mumbling praises of how good you are, how much he has missed you, and how good you feel around his fingers.

When the aftershocks subside, Spencer carefully retracts his fingers, sucking them clean before passionately kissing you. You can taste yourself on his lips, fueling the desire to have more of him.

“I missed you,” you say, still breathless. Spencer lies on the mattress by your side, stroking your cheek.

“And I missed you. Both of you,” he says, now rubbing a hand over your belly. You let out a content sigh. “We don’t have to do anything else tonight. We can just prepare to go to bed.”

Your head snaps up in an instant.

“Are you fucking kidding me? No! We’re not done, mister. We have a lot of days apart to make it up to.”

Spencer laughs. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Start with those boxers. Get them off,” you command, kneeling on the mattress and suddenly feeling a rush of adrenaline. Spencer pulls his boxers down, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric. It's hard, red, and already leaking precum. And your mouth waters.

“Like the view?” He teases.

“Very,” you shamelessly reply, gawking at the way his cock twitches under your gaze. You position between his legs. He is at your level sight with his elbows on the mattress. You wrap a hand around his shaft, giving a light squeeze, as your other hand looks purchase on his thigh. Spencer hisses at the contact.

“Baby, you don’t have to,” he reminds you, knowing this position could be uncomfortable for you.

“Oh, yes, I have to,” you counter. “I have been thinking about sucking you off for weeks, Spencer. Weeks!”

Spencer laughs at your dramatics, but still, he reaches for your chin to tilt up so you can look at him.

“Just let me know if it's too much, and we can stop, okay?”

Did you mention before about how careful he has been treating you since you discovered you were pregnant? Yes, you did. And here is a reminder.

“Okay,” you reassure him, giving an experimental lick at the tip. The salty taste just encourages you to lick the underside, from base to tip and back and forth. Spencer’s moans are music for your ears. You lower yourself now, taking him in your mouth—inch by glorious inch.

There is something special about giving Spencer head, and it’s beyond the sexual component of pushing him to orgasm. It's about the way he surrenders to your touch, the way he is splayed over the bed at your mercy. The way he trusts you in such a vulnerable position. He doesn't rush you; he’s pliant at your pace because he knows you know how to pleasure him.

“Fuck!” he groans when you go deeper. “So good, baby. You take it so good.”

As him with yours, you relish on his praises. He never stops complimenting you and vocalizing the way you make him feel. Evidence of how much you like it is the pool of wetness forming in your center just hearing him moan and talk.

With renewed vigor, you keep bobbing your head up and down, swirling your tongue, and extracting the more nasty and sexy noises from Spencer’s lips.

“Just - just like that. You are doing amazing.” His hands rest over your head, but he doesn’t push or pull; he just grounds himself in the midst of the pleasure cloud he is in.

But when that knowing coil is forming on him, Spencer knows he needs you to stop, or he won’t last much.

Gently, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you back. You understand the signal and release him with a pop.

“What is it? You don’t want to?” You ask, licking your lips full of fluids of both of you. Spencer is panting, shaking his head no.

“You were amazing, but I don’t want to cum yet. And I want to cum inside of you.” The admission makes the heat in your body rise.

His hand caresses lovingly your cheek as you’re sitting on your haunches on the mattress. Spencer sits with his back on the headboard, raking your entire naked body from head to toe. His eyes are full of adoration.

Leave it to Spencer to look at you like you were Afrodite's incarnation, even with your grown breasts and bloated body.

“What?” You ask, giggling out of nervousness. Years with him, and that piercing gaze still makes your heart flutter.

"Marvelous. So beautiful. The most gorgeous. Perfect.”

Before you can protest the overflowing compliments, Spencer's hands cup your face to pull you into a deep kiss. You kiss him back with urgency, straddling him. Spencer’s hands go to your waist to keep you in place, where you belong, on top of him. From that position, you can feel his cock twitching with want.

"Spencer-" you mumble in his lips, almost like a whisper.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he asks, focusing on how you start swaying your hips, making contact with his hardness, and settling him on fire.

“I need to ride you, now,” you plead, and Spencer can’t say no to you even if he tried.

“Then ride me. Take everything you need from me,” Spencer says, leaving the grasp of your hips so you can lift yourself to position his cock at your entrance. You start to sink and you both are gasping for air. It feels so good. You feel so full with every pull and push of your core into Spencer’s cock. It's a sensation that never gets old.

“That's it. You are doing so well. Take your time,” Spencer reminds you, but you have been craving him so much that you don’t have patience anymore. Spencer's hands come back to your hips, and yours rest on his shoulders for balance. With a last bounce, you’re full to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You hiss. The stretching is a mix of pain and pleasure that’s driving you insane. Spencer’s concerned eyes seek yours.

“You okay?” He asks, his gaze now raking your body, looking for something that can tell him about your discomfort.

“Yes! I’m okay—more than okay,” you assure him. Then you remember there is something he needs to know, something you need from him.

"Spencer, look at me," you demand, and he does what you ask.

"Yeah?" he pants, eyes mapping your face for any sign of what you want to say.

"I want something. Better said, I need something,” you pant, feeling already the urge to move.

"Okay, whatever you need. I'll give it to you."

"I need to feel you. All of you.” Spencer nods.

“You are feeling me now, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Spencer. I’m talking about being rough. I need it hard. Please, baby, don't hold back."

“Oh.” Realization hits him at the same time you clench around him. “Fuck. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Love, I promise you, you won’t break me.”

Spencer looks still hesitant.

“Please, don’t deprive me of you. I need to be consumed by you. I need to feel you everywhere; I need to be reminded I'm yours, and you're mine. Remind me you’re the only one who can have me like this. Remind me who put this baby in me.”

The way Spencer’s cock twitches inside of you and the groan escaping his lips is enough for you to know he got the memo.

His eyes darkened even more, and you could swear you saw a smirk on his face.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, do you?” he says, thrusting up so you can feel him deeper.

“Ah! Show me! Give me what you think I deserve, please,” you beg, and for Spencer is the last straw. With both hands on your hips, he starts to bounce you up and down. Your hands rest on his stomach as you try to catch a rhythm. It starts messy and frantic, and you can’t care less. You’re riding Spencer, and that's what matters.

“So tight. I don’t know how I can fit here. Feels amazing.” Spencer's voice is strained, breathless.

As you gain more control over your movements, the grinding intensifies. Every part of your body is on fire. The bounce of your breasts makes Spencer feral.

“These tits. Are mine. All mine,” Spencer chants, hands squeezing them. “You’re mine.”

Damn right, you think. You are his. Every part of you is his, in the same way you are claiming him as yours right now.

Not fully satisfied with touching, Spencer leans forward and captures one of your nipples with his mouth, one arm around your waist to help you as you keep riding him.

“Fuck! Spencer!” You cry when he sucks harder. Tugging his hair, you speed your rhythm, feeling the coil forming, a new orgasm approaching.

At some point your legs start to falter, the exertion making them cramp, but you don’t want to stop. Spencer notices, though.

“I’ve got you,” he says, maneuvering you on your back without pulling out. Now he’s on top, and your legs over his shoulders. “That’s better, uh?”

You nod eagerly. “But don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t.”

With this new angle, Spencer thrusts deeper and harder. It's all you have wanted for weeks. The sinful sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, and you can respire the smell of sweat and sex.

“Yes! Just like that!”

“Oh, so you wanted it harder, uh? My sweet, dirty thing,” Spencer coos, head nestled in the crook of your neck. You feel his hot breath, how he’s panting while giving you precise and deliberate thrusts, in and out, in and out.

“Spence, I’m close,” you warn, and Spencer doesn't halt his movements, leaning a bit back to look at you.

“Me too, baby.”

You are a sight to behold. Your messy hair, sweat sparkling on your skin, eyes full of lust, the moans leaving your lips, tits bouncing with every thrust, and that bump, where your baby is. Spencer still can’t believe it's real.

“You’re so gorgeous. You look so good, pregnant with my baby. Everyone knows you’re mine.”

“Yours, always,” you half-sob, half-moan. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you can feel it in your bones. Spencer knows exactly how to get you there. He’s almost there too.

“That’s what you want? That I keep you nice a knocked up all the time? Do you want my cum, don’t you?”

“Yes! All the time. Please.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you nice and full.” Spencer vows, kissing your calf and sneaking down his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles.

“Oh, God.”

You’re on the verge of falling. The wet sounds your bodies are making, the panting and moans, Spencer’s words, everything is pushing you to the edge.

“Come for me, come on my cock,” Spencer demands, and it is like your body has to comply because as the words leave his mouth, your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

“Fucking shit! Yes!” You scream, feeling your body trembling with pleasure. Spencer’s pace keeps, now chasing his own end.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, losing some rhythm. “So good for me.”

You can feel him twitching inside with each thrust as you clench your walls, still riding your high.

“Spencer, please. Cum inside. Fill me up, baby. I need it so bad,” you plead, and Spencer loses it. After a deep thrust, he grunts and stills inside, spilling everything he has. You feel his warmth filling you up, a content sigh leaving your lips.

For a few seconds, you both remain still, panting and trying to catch your breath. Spencer is the first to react. Not pulling out, he lowers your legs from his shoulders, massaging them gently while he peppers your neck with kisses. You giggle, still drunk of post-orgasmic hormones.

“You did so good, my love,” he praises. Your hands cup his face so he can look at you.

“I love you, Spencer. I missed you so much,” you declare as you lean in to kiss his lips. Spencer reciprocates immediately. This kiss is sweet, not rushed, but takes your breath away as all Spencer’s kisses do.

“I love you, too,” he mumbles on your lips. “And it was torture being away from you for so many days. But I’m here right now; I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good, because tonight I’m not done with you yet.”

With the whimper that escapes Spencer’s lips and the twitch of his cock still inside of you, it’s clear he knows exactly how the night will go from here.

-----------------

Wisdom. A lot of. It is one of the many assets Emily Prentiss has developed throughout her career working with law enforcement. She will say it's not that big of a deal, and part of the perks that come with the job, but the truth is that, with years passing, many people have to thank her for her ability to read the room and act on it.

Now, as the BAU unit chief, those attributes come in handy on a variety of fronts. Some of the most complex tasks, like keeping her team safe from harm while they do their job, and the most domestic, like deciding when would be the best way to throw Penelope a secret birthday party.

That said, Emily has recently found herself in a difficult position regarding how to proceed with the love blindness of two of her team members: you and Spencer Reid.

Yes. Love. Because if there's one thing Emily is sure of, it is that you and Spencer love each other, even if the only ones not realizing it yet are you both.

Or perhaps you do realize it, but opt to silence the truth behind the veil of a beautiful friendship, one that blossomed when you joined the team a year ago. Emily is sure she's never seen Spencer so comfortable with someone in so short a time. She doesn't blame him at all, because if anyone could have connected with Spencer and his personality, it was you.

And while Emily knows that interceding would be unprofessional, not doing so only prolongs the agony of a team—and her own, for that matter—already fed up with your mutual pinning.

It's funny, Emily thinks, as she looks out of her office window at you, hunched over Spencer's desk, while he tries to perform one of his magic tricks based on the laws of physics.

If her memory serves her right, Emily is confident Spencer hasn't pulled that trick in at least a decade. And that reminds her how much has happened in that time. Emily knows it. Spencer Reid is no longer the same person he was back then. He carries a heavy burden of traumas and difficult moments: Hankel, Gideon's death, his mother's illness, Maeve's death, Morgan's departure, Hotch's abrupt exit, Cat Adams, and the three months in Milburn. Yes, the young Spencer is long gone, replaced by a quieter and more withdrawn one.

But seeing him now, focused on showing you something as simple - yet specifically him - as a magic trick, tells Emily that despite everything, a part of the Spencer she knew so long ago is still there, and that you're the one who brought him back to the surface. Another piece of evidence to rest her case, Emily thinks.

Of course, none of this was planned. When Spencer was imprisoned and then released, the team was also profoundly affected by the situation. Fresh perspectives were needed to refocus the team's job. It wasn't that Spencer's situation wasn't serious. Emily knew everyone was very focused on him and how he was readjusting to work. But that kind of attention wasn't something Spencer wanted. So she decided to hire you.

A couple of years younger than the rest of the team and even than Spencer himself, you brought new energy and a passion for making the world a better place by saving lives. Emily saw in you something she felt she had lost over the years, and that was precisely what the BAU needed.

In your very first case, you showed that your impetuousness - or recklessness, Emily had told you - could easily end with you heavily injured on the field, something Emily wasn't about to let happen. Hence, her executive decision: Spencer would be your mentor. A kind of natural regulator, someone from whom you could learn.

Secretly, Emily also hoped that Spencer could learn a thing or two from you.

And so the bond between you was born. Over time, the mentor-pupil relationship evolved into a deep friendship and mutual care. Spencer wasn't just there to counterbalance your excessive energy and stubbornness; he also began to draw strength from your commitment and sense of humor and your ability to bring out the best in people, even in himself—something he thought was impossible these days.

Emily quickly realized everything between you two was all in the details. The mornings when Spencer brought you coffee, having memorized your order perfectly. Or the times you worried about whether he'd eaten something more substantial than a protein bar.

The way Spencer always managed to come to your defense when Emily lectured you, or how you scolded the rest of the team when they interrupted Spencer in the middle of one of his usual random rants.

It was all there.

To an outsider, it might have seemed like you were two coworkers becoming close friends. But Emily knew better. No, the way Spencer looks at you when you're interviewing witnesses or when you're exposing a theory during a case—no, that's not the look of a colleague or a friend. And the way you look at him when Spencer arrives at the bullpen in the mornings or when he's explaining his point of view in the jet as you guys are heading to a case—no, that's not the look of a friend or someone who simply admires their colleague.

Now, even if you both had already realized the same thing, why wouldn't you do something about it?

Emily has her theory.

It's not simply blindness. Your unit chief would call it selective denial. And the thing is, Spencer and his self-esteem have always been at war. Of course, someone like you could never have romantic feelings for someone like him. Not when he's been so badly hurt by life. He knows that the important people who come into his life end up abandoning him in one way or another. He doesn't want it to happen to you, which is why he doesn't let his true feelings surface.

And what about you? Well, Emily privately calls you a higher master of functional self-sabotage and overcompensation.

As the youngest on the team, you always give your all, even if it means silencing your inner self and your own needs. You have a strong sense of companionship, but that can backfire because you'll always put your teammates' and victims' well-being before your own.

How does that relate to Spencer? Well, of course, you've made his well-being and comfort your goal, assuming he'll seek love from someone at his level of maturity and intellect. And it's not that you think you're intellectually inferior, but you don't have an IQ of 187, for goodness' sake! For you, that's enough to play the safe card of friendship. You've even encouraged him to go on dates to show him that he's someone who can be loved and that there are people out there waiting for someone like him. People like you, if you were sincere. But, conveniently, you tend to omit that last part.

It goes without saying that all those dates were a failure. Spencer only agreed to go on them because you asked him to. In any other situation, he would have refused.

But if there's one thing Spencer has realized over time, it's that he can't say no to you.

Still distracted by watching you laugh at Spencer's failed attempt to launch the plastic tube with a defined trajectory, Emily doesn't notice Rossi entering the office.

"It's infuriating, isn't it?" The old man speaks his mind, eyes on the same scene Emily is watching, and she doesn't have a choice but to chuckle at the obvious.

"I was going to settle with 'frustrating,' but I guess you reached another level."

"Are we going to do something about it?" Rossi asks, now with a resolutive stance. Emily arches an eyebrow. "What happened with the 'they'll figure it out eventually,' uh?"

Rossi scoffs at Emily's teasing tone.

"After all these months? I think we passed that already."

"What are you suggesting? Lock them in a closet 24 hours straight?"

Rossi hums. "Twenty years ago, it would have worked," the man shrugs nonchalantly. Emily stifles a laugh. "Good thing you are not the unit chief." Rossi doesn't even bother with the remark.

"Yes. Good thing. It means it is your problem to solve, doesn't it?"

Strictly speaking, it doesn't. But by now, Emily considers your and Spencer's situation a challenge that requires perseverance and mental skill in full display. And Emily Prentiss has never run away from a challenge.

"I didn't know my job description contained cupid assignments," Emily scoffs.

Rossi returns a mischievous glance. "I guess it is now."

-----------------

Reader's POV

One interesting but exhausting thing about my job is that, more often than not, we have to travel thousands of miles to remote locations to solve cases.

This is one of those cases. This time, the location is a remote town in the southwest. A place I didn't even know existed on the map.

"Okay. This is what we're going to do," Emily announces when we're still in the jet. "Rossi and JJ, you are going to the ME, while Luke and Tara will check the last dumpsite. The rest of us will settle in the police precinct."

Half an hour later, we - Spencer, Emily, and I - walk into the police station.

The precinct is crowded with officers coming and going. Does this small town really have a police force this numerous?

Or my face has subtitles, or Spencer really knows me well, because before I can open my mouth, he leans and whispers.

"Contrary to the common belief, this county has doubled its population in the past five years. The industrial leverage has grown around here, and people have been coming for better jobs. Hence, the additional police force."

I can't help the scoff escaping my mouth. "And look how good they are doing these days." The comment was meant for only Spencer to hear, but Emily catches it and glares at me.

Shit.

Spencer purses his lips, trying to conceal a smirk. And the only thing I can think of doing is pulling a face, mumbling a 'sorry' to try to placate my slip.

Emily is about to say something when two officers approach us.

Saved by the bell.

"You must be from the BAU. I'm Captain Roberts, and this is Officer MacFadden. We're leading the current investigation for what we called you guys."

Roberts looks like the typical policeman who has worked his whole life in the same place and may know everyone in town. MacFadden, on the other hand, is a young officer; I'd guess she's about my age or maybe a little older. But something that undoubtedly characterizes her is her hegemonic beauty: tall, slender, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a confident, self-assured stance.

If I weren't painfully straight, I would entertain the idea of making a move on her.

"Nice to meet you," Emily greets, as she proceeds to introduce Spencer and me. "Later, you'll meet the rest of the team."

I don't usually overanalyze my interactions with colleagues from the police force. But in this case, something about MacFadden makes me more observant than usual.

Could it be the lack of enthusiasm - bordering on apathy - she showed when she shook my hand? Or perhaps the complete mood transformation when her eyes landed on Spencer? I swear I saw her gaze light up and the rest of the world disappear.

No, I must be wrong. I can't infer something like that right away. I'm a good profiler, so I can't draw those kinds of conclusions at first glance.

That's why I let it go and get to work once Emily defines the tasks. This time, I'm assigned to the geographical profile alongside Spencer, while Emily gathers information with Captain Roberts.

Once in a meeting room with whiteboards and maps, we start triangulating information.

"Okay, Dr. Reid. What do you think? Is this guy one who sticks to his comfort zone or tries to avoid it?"

When I first started working with the BAU, I always referred to Spencer as Dr. Reid. After all, Emily designated him as my mentor, so I felt it was only fair to treat him with that respect, even though I started calling everyone else by their names after my first week - boss included.

At first, Spencer didn't make a big deal of it, but when he realized he was the only one I wasn't calling by his name, he insisted I do the same with him.

Eventually, I gave in. And now I only call Spencer Dr. Reid playfully, just to mess with him.

"Why do you think it's a man? And why can't it be more than one?" Spencer retorts, looking at me with curiosity.

"Well. First of all, this is a work made by a messy alpha. An alpha woman tends not to do the dirty work or do it without making a mess, so the odds lean toward a man. Secondly, alpha males have an ego bigger than their brains, so it's unlikely they can work with another alpha, and the evidence can rule out the existence of a submissive partner. But lastly, and more importantly, men sucks in general. So, I go for a man."

"Very scientific of you, especially the last part," he teases, with an amused laugh.

Oh, how much I love to do that. Making Spencer smile or laugh gives me life.

"I'm not just a pretty face, you know?"

"Oh, I'm aware of that."

We both stare at each other, smiling. It's like a natural reaction after some bantering between us. But the moment is broken when Officer MacFadden makes her presence known.

"I'm sorry for interrupting. But Agent Prentiss told me Dr. Reid could help me with something?" She looks at Spencer, who now turns his attention to her.

"Yes? Uh. Sure. What would it be?"

Polite Spencer never disappoints. He's always so willing to help and share his knowledge. It warms my heart every time, but people take advantage of him because of it. Spencer has always assured me he doesn't mind, but still.

But wait. MacFadden is smiling cheekily in return. Why is she doing that?

"Can I show you? It's about some files at my desk that can be helpful to the case."

Her desk, uh. I wonder why she didn't bring them here.

I know, probably means nothing. But that look in Officer MacFadden's eyes? She is flirting.

"Oh. Okay. Uhm, I'll be right back." Spencer's voice brings me back to him.

"Yeah, sure." I shrug, a tight-lipped smile on my face.

A triumphant Officer MacFadden leads the way to where she came from, Spencer trailing behind.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not upset about seeing people flirting. I'm not one to judge. But something in my stomach feels tight.

Spencer matters more to me than I let on. While I admitted to myself a while ago that I have feelings for him, I'm sure this isn't going anywhere. It's unfair to both of us for me to nurture a romantic hope. I may be young, but I'm not naive.

I myself have encouraged Spencer to go on dates. I find it impossible to imagine that a human being like him wouldn't be adequately loved.

So, it's best if I don't dwell on it any longer. There's a case to solve, and I need to do my job.

That's why I refocus on the map and the files scattered across the table.

It works. I’m so immersed in work that I don't know exactly how much time has passed, but it must be quite a while. Rossi and JJ came back and shared their findings, and Emily herself returned with Tara and Luke with new leads to check with Garcia. I've made progress on the geographical analysis, and it's pretty clear what profile we're looking for.

And Spencer? He still hasn't fully returned since MacFadden took him earlier. What the hell are they doing anyway?

To avoid getting frustrated, I even dodge looking toward the desk where they are still flipping files.

Emily dispatches the team again for more confirmatory tasks. This time, Luke and JJ are sent to speak with witnesses, while Rossi and Tara review security camera footage from a nearby store. Emily stays behind, checking my progress and triangulating information with Garcia.

My head starts to throb, and the only thing I can think of doing is getting a coffee. I'm not sure if that was the best idea, because before I even reach the kitchen, I see Spencer and MacFadden come out laughing, each with a cup of coffee.

My headache just doubled in intensity. Luckily, they don't notice me. I don't want to look like a puppy that's just been kicked.

What's happening to me is entirely irrational. I can't be jealous. I have no right to be. But seeing Spencer laugh, and not because of something I said or did, makes my chest tighten. I'm screwed.

I return with my cup of coffee—intentionally blacker than I like it—to continue with my work. Emily looks at me with a furrowed brow.

"Are you okay?"

I look up from my mug. She has that questioning gaze—the one I don't like to be at the end of it.

"Uh. Just a headache." I'm not lying, and I hope it helps my cause.

"And black coffee? Exactly what the doctor ordered."

I shug. "I can't strip my life of the good things for a simple headache."

Emily hums, not entirely convinced, but she lets me off the hook for now.

I really do try to focus on my work. But my eyes instinctively drift to a corner where Spencer is still with MacFadden, checking another pile of files on her desk. I watch as she invades Spencer's personal space, even placing her hand on his arm, and he doesn't seem bothered at all. Funny, considering how he's averse to touch from people.

Surely, as special as he is, Spencer is still a man. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that, and that there is only friendship between us.

"You know, he has always been clueless about flirting. I wouldn't worry that much."

Emily's voice gets me out of my staring.

Shit. My eyes widen, and Emily smirks.

Ladies and gentlemen, Caught in the Act is the name of the movie.

"What? Emily, no-"

I'm about to rant about how she's wrong about her assumptions - even when she's not - but Emily stops me, shaking her head.

"Don't even try to do that. I just know, okay? Perhaps you'd like to continue in denial - which is your decision to make, of course - but you don't need to lie to me. And as a person who has known the genius for a while, you shouldn't be worried."

With cheeks flushed, I avert my gaze from Emily's piercing one. She reads me like an open book, and I was trying to be subtle. What a joke.

"I-I wouldn't say that. Not him. We're colleagues and good friends. That's all."

Emily raises an eyebrow.

"If you say so. And your personal life is not my business, I know. But I have been watching you both, and I'm 100% sure platonical is not a word to define what is going on between you and Spencer."

Like the stubborn person I am, I'm about to protest again.

"You don't have to say it. Again, not my business. Just pay attention to the signs and be honest with him and with yourself. It's not the first time in history that two coworkers have fallen in love, you know?"

My embarrassed groan makes Emily chuckle, and before I can think of a response, she pats my shoulder. "I'm going to check on Luke and Tara. Once Reid comes back, tell him we're ready to deliver the profile." With that, she leaves me there with my mental struggle and the nagging thought of what to do about it.

Biting the inside of my cheek in deep contemplation, I see Officer MacFadden still trying to monopolize Spencer's attention.

But when my gaze falls specifically on him, he's looking at me. And when he notices me looking back, he gives me a warm smile.

Great, my cheeks are burning again.

Could Emily be right about what she said?

No, she's not. It can't be true.

That idea keeps nagging at me. And even though I try to push it to the back of my mind for the sake of work and my own sanity, after a while I find myself replaying the various interactions I've had with Spencer since we met. Call me dramatic, but I need evidence to understand what's really going on and what the hell I'm going to do.

My first instinct is to forget Emily's words and pretend everything's fine. But I can't. The seed has been planted, and I need to know.

The second problem is how the hell do I talk to him? What do I say? How do I say it? Maybe I should wait until we get back to Quantico, because doing it now would be pretty unprofessional. Yes, it's better to wait.

And just when I really feel like my decision is final and I made peace with it, the world manages to conspire against me.

It's late, and Emily has already sent the team back to the hotel for the night. At the same time, she asks Tara to join her for a cigarette and to get some coffee, leaving Spencer and me alone in the room for the first time since this morning.

"I don't think we'll find anything if we don't expand the area on the map. I believe the unsub has more than one hunting territory. If we could identify at least one more, we could mark an intersection point where the chances of finding him would be higher. At least I think we should mark the places where the victims not only work or live, but also places that are different from their usual routines. What do you think?"

My eyes are fixed on a file, while my mind is still in my predicament, so absorbed that I don't realize Spencer has asked me a question until he repeats my name to get my attention.

"Uhm?" I mumble, still distracted, but now looking at him. Spencer frowns.

"Are you okay?"

No. I'm not.

"Yes- Yeah. Fine."

Spencer certainly doesn't believe me.

"Are you sure? You've seemed quite distracted today."

No shit, Sherlock

I could lie, say I'm tired and haven't slept well. And even though Spencer might not believe me, he'd eventually let it go. Spencer has never pressured me to tell him things if I'm not ready. But Emily's words echo in my mind: 'be honest with him and with yourself.'

Damn, Emily!

"Actually, uh. There is something I want to talk to you, but - eh, I don't know how."

"Wow, that's a first," Spencer jokes, but when I don't laugh, he schools his features immediately. "Sorry."

I huff in response. "Don't apologize for that. It was a good joke."

"You didn't laugh, though. What's wrong?"

He looks concerned now.

My hands are sweating, and I can feel my heart racing. But I have Spencer's attention; I can't just say nothing.

"Okay, listen. If I'm reading this wrong, it's totally fine. I - I just need to know-" Spencer's curious eyes don't help to calm my nerves.

Am I making a mistake bringing this up?

"Uf. Jeez. You'll think I'm crazy." A nervous chuckle leaves my lips.

"Hey, don't say that. You know you can talk to me," Spencer encourages me. And I want to believe him. I really do.

Okay. Here goes nothing.

"We are friends, right? I mean, as more than colleagues?"

Spencer purses his lips like he's not fully comprehending where I'm heading.

"We are. Of course. We're friends," he assures me with a smile, like that was all the problem.

Okay. Now the big question.

"But- uh, what is happening between us isn't entirely platonic, is it?"

Silence.

Have you ever felt time stand still as anticipation mounts exponentially? Well, that's exactly how I feel right now.

I think I'm two seconds from throwing up, considering Spencer's face has mutated from relaxed to completely unreadable and pale.

I wince and fold into myself, knowing I fucked up. I know I did. And now I can't take it back.

Let me tell you, it's the worst feeling in the world.

"Are you- you mean- like we- what do you mean?"

Great. He's a stuttering mess, and it's my fault. And I know he knows now, but he won't say it unless I do.

There's no escaping from this, so all I can do is try to explain my embarrassing situation and pray that Spencer doesn't run off to find Emily and tell her to fire me because the completely unprofessional little girl fell in love with him, and that can't be tolerated.

"I know it's not right, and I'm sorry I brought it up now. But lately I can't - I can't get you out of my head, and I keep imagining what it would be like to be more than friends."

"You don't want us to be friends anymore?"

Am I not speaking English?

"What? No! Of course I do. I was just thinking—damn. No, that didn't go well."

"Okay? Well, then I don't understand-"

"I like you!"

It was abruptly. And blurted out louder than I expected. That makes the silence that follows more dreary.

"Do-do you like me?"

There is confusion on Spencer's face, as if I'm talking nonsense, and I think I'm going to die from mortification.

"God, Spencer. I thought- fuck. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. But it's okay, you don't have to like me back. Surely you don't. So, can we just forget what I said, please?"

Where's the hole in the floor that can swallow me whole? I don't know what else to say or do. If I had any sliver of hope Spencer liked me, it's all buried now, and I just want to run away from this situation. Why isn't anyone from the team showing up right now? Would it look bad if I just ran?

"Oh"

Yeah, 'oh,' indeed. Is the only thing escaping his lips.

My brain is telling me it's time to run right now, but my body doesn't cooperate.

"I didn't know."

I hate the way Spencer looks at me, like he feels guilty for not feeling the same way I do. He just needs to say it, and that would be the end of it, even if it breaks my heart and crushes what little hope I had left.

"Clearly you don't," I mumble, cheeks burning. Two solid minutes pass, and I still don't know how Spencer feels. I should have known.

"I'm sorry. I - I don't know what to say."

"Spencer, you don't have to say anything. It's my problem, not yours, okay?"

The defeated sigh I let out might be enough to end this conversation, but it seems Spencer disagrees.

"What do you mean?"

Seriously dude? I wonder where that big brain went right now.

"It doesn't matter, okay? I just imagined things. I'm the one who harbored this crush, not you. And honestly? - Well, it wouldn't have worked anyway."

That's something I have always told myself: 'It will not work.' I think it's the way to convince my heart not to get its hopes up.

"It's uh - complicated," Spencer mumbles, an apologetic look in his eyes. So I think he agrees with me.

"Yeah. I know."

The time stretches longer, and I feel so silly. Why did I listen to Emily? I'm totally fucked up and hurt.

With the remaining little pride I still have, I sweep the tears I didn't know were falling.

"Okay. I'll head back to the hotel."

I don't think I have moved this fast before, at least not in any other setting than running after an unsub.

I don't even want to look back. I feel heartbroken and ashamed. Vulnerable and completely exposed. I don't know how I'm going to pull myself together after this.

---------------

Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

---------------

A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

---------------

You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

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