#batty writes

It was a beautiful sunny day when he showed up. A beautiful sunny day that was ruined for Spencer by this random appearance. Your team had been told that you would have a new agent joining you on Monday. He was supposed to just be working with you for a few weeks before being sent across the country to work for another team. Monday morning was warm and brilliant. Spencer walked into the bullpen and smiled brightly at you. He set down a cup of coffee on your desk and let his hand lag over your arm. Your relationship hadn’t been announced at work yet, neither of you wanted to deal with the paperwork, so you subsided on stolen glances and lingering touches. “How was your night? Didn’t you go see a movie,” he asks casually. You nod, holding your coffee up to cool it off with your breath, “mhm. It was pretty good.” “I still can’t believe you went to see a movie without your favorite movie buddy,” he lets the end of his sentence curl into a playful whine. You snort a laugh, “you’ll live. Am I still your favorite girl to see movies with even though I betrayed you or-” Your question is interrupted by Derek Morgan interjecting, “hey! Am I not your favorite anymore?” Spence rolls his eyes before looking to Morgan’s desk, “you’re not a girl!” “Not the point,” he teases, turning back to his computer with a wide grin. As you go to lob your own joke into the mix, Garcia makes her presence known on the catwalk. She waves her hand, heralding your team into a meeting you could practically sense was coming. You made your way upstairs as the rest of the team wandered over. You take a seat at the table and watch the others filter in, noticing that Hotch isn’t in the room yet.

Spencer takes a seat across the table from you and shoots you a quick smile when you meet his eyes. When you first began dating you had mentioned that you liked sitting next to him, but because he always sat across from you it felt like he didn’t like sitting next to you. He then revealed that he sat across from you so he could look at you more covertly than if you were directly next to each other.

Hotch turns into the room, crossing the threshold with his back partially turned to the rest of the room as he guides a man in. Hotch patiently waits as the team finishes their conversations and turns their attention to him and the stranger he’s brought. You study the man's face, something familiar etched into the creases across his forehead and the shine of his hair. He turns to look at you and recognition lights up his expression. Hotch opens his mouth to introduce him and is interrupted when you exclaim, "Andy?!" He replies with your name, his voice joyful and surprised, "I thought that was you! I haven't seen you in forever!" Hotch does something that's as close to a grin as he can, "that makes the introduction easier I suppose. This is Agent Andrew Joyce, he'll be joining us for the time being." Andrew offers a polite wave at the group, "it's a pleasure to be here, thank you for welcoming me." JJ gives him a warm welcome and he moves around the table to the open chair on your left. He slides into the chair and shoots you a smile as your mind buzzes with things to ask him. Andrew has been your friend since you were 12, you'd lost contact after graduating high school and going to different colleges, but you occasionally came across something about him through his moms Facebook page. Garcia and Hotch fill the team in on the case you're signing onto. What originally appeared to be a strange string of family annihilators now seems to be connected and they need you all to fly to Iowa to help out. You glance at Spencer, expecting to see him already itching to get started like he often is, but you find that he's staring at Andrew. You assume he's just trying to get used to having a new face at the table and don't give it much more thought than that.

On the flight to Iowa you're sat across from Spencer with Prentiss on your right. Andrew was originally sat next to Spencer, but moved to talk to JJ and get more background on the case. Spencer is eyeing you in a way that makes you shift in your seat. You press your thighs together and twist slightly in your chair, hoping no one notices. The look he gives you isn't intimidating, but it is heavy, like there's something bubbling just below the surface.

Once landed, the team checks into a hotel and is assigned room partners. You end up getting placed with Emily, the two of you sharing a mischievous grin when handed your room key. Spencer ends up being placed with Derek, Rossi with JJ, and Andrew with Hotch. You and Emily drop off your suitcases in your room and quickly freshen up before going downstairs to meet the others. When you get downstairs Reid and Morgan are waiting on you. Derek leans against the back of a lounge chair in the lobby while Spencer stands in front of him, arms crossed and mouth moving a mile a minute as he speaks to him. You sidle up to Spencer's side and he stops mid sentence to look at you. "Are you guys ready to go," his eyes roam your face as he awaits an answer. You nod, "sure are! I just wanted to change my clothes real quick and Prentiss needed to put on a different shirt." "It's too humid for a sweater, what can I say," she shrugs. Spencer nods at her, a crinkle of a smile on his lips, "it is pretty humid. Is everyone else still upstairs? We haven't seen them yet." "We didn't see them in the hallway, so I'd assume so," you reply, letting your arm brush against Reid's. He drops his hand to lace his fingers with yours, moving to hide your hands behind the open quarters of his suit jacket. You glance up at him to find his eyes already on you, a small smirk exchanged between you. The smile is pulled from Spencer's face when the elevator dings behind you. You turn to find the rest of your group exiting the elevator, Andrew leading the way. He beams at you, the smile so wide it creases his eyes and nose slightly. He jogs up to you, "how does your squad feel about hugs between colleagues?" You giggle, "are you asking for a hug? We do hugs sometimes so no one will judge you if that's the concern." He laughs, a bellowing sound that you haven't heard in years, "yeah! I haven't seen you since we were little kids, of course I want a hug." “18 and off to college is not ‘little kids,’” you laugh. You glance at Reid before dropping his hand and spreading your arms to hug Andy. He lets out a sound close to a giggle and wraps you in his hold, almost immediately lifting you and twirling you around. The surprised yelp you loose from your lips almost covers his words, "I've missed you so much!" He sets you back down with a chuckle and you back away, nearly losing your balance and bumping into Spencer. "I think you surprised her," Emily laughs. Spencer cocks an eyebrow in a way that conveys exasperation, "I think he surprised everybody." Andrew's face flashes with a brief wave of annoyance or maybe defensiveness before looking back to you, "well maybe when we're done for the night we can get drinks and catch up." "I'd like that," you smile at him, discreetly running a hand down Spencer's arm to console him.

Spencer didn't often get jealous. It had happened a few times, mostly before you were even dating if you were honest. Once when you went undercover for a night to lure out an unsub at a couples club, he got so jealous that you worried he'd rip the man's throat out with his teeth. It didn't bother you when he did get jealous, you knew he'd lived a life of loss and stability was not a common state for him so when he perceived a threat to your steadiness it made sense that he would get a little possessive. If you were truly honest with yourself you also had to admit that it was a little hot when he got possessive. One time he'd gotten a little uppity about a man at a bar who'd tried to dance on you. He took you outside and pressed you against a wall, making an absolute mess of your neck before taking you home and making a mess of the rest of you. He'd growled in your ear about how you were his and it echoed in your most private moments for months after.

You arrived at the precinct, were briefed on what was going on, and split into teams to check out different crime scenes. You were placed with Spencer and Andrew, part of you smiled at how lucky that was, the other part of you cringed at how awkward this could get. The car ride over was largely silent. Andrew tried to start a conversation a few times, but Spencer's lack of enthusiasm quickly shut that down.

At the scene you all wandered around, sharing observations and discussing the case. You noticed that Andy and Spencer were both stood strangely close to you. You covertly take a step away to see what they do. Andrew follows, glued to your side, and you're slightly floored when Reid quickly appears on your other side. You try not to laugh at how juvenile this is. Andrew is talking about something he noticed, leaning over to point at one of the photos you've gathered of the scene, and Reid is staring daggers at him as he leans in a way that is similar to Andy. You figure you'll have to talk to Spencer about his behavior later, but now is not the time.

Back at the precinct you discuss findings with your team. As you approach the table that JJ, Rossi, and Derek are seated at, Andrew quickly snatches the chair directly next to you. Spencer is already on the other side of the table, but he shoots Andrew a look anyway. You assume it's about the principle. A map is brought out to highlight the sectors of town that the unsub is most likely to strike next. Andrew leans over the table past you and drapes his arm over the back of the chair as he does so. His thumb brushes the back of your arm and you jump slightly, not expecting the contact. "Do you want to move seats so you can see better," Spencer pipes up from across of you. Andrew tilts his head up to look at Spencer, he's so close to you now that the movement causes his tie to brush over the papers in front of you, "oh, I'm alright." His eyes find yours as he turns to look down on you, "are you alright?" "Uh, I can move so you can see better. Do you want to swap seats," you smile and try to hide the awkwardness you're feeling. Andrew's face tightens slightly, like he didn't expect you to agree with Spencer, "alright then." He stands back up and you stiffly swap over to what was his chair. You look at the other end of the table to find the other three staring at Spencer. JJ passes you a look that reads as, 'tell me what that was about later,' you simply nod and give her a tight smile. "So," you say, a little too loud, "what is everyone thinking for motive?"

Hotch enters the room and juts his thumb over his shoulder, calling your last name and causing you to tense, "Joyce, Morgan come with me." "We're in trouble now," Derek chuckles under his breath. You rise and step quickly to follow Aaron, Derek and Andrew close behind you. Hotch waits out in the hall talking to a local officer. He turns to include you all in the conversation, "this is officer Guerra, she wanted to bring some observations to our attention. She was one of the first on the scene for the last two attacks." Morgan nods next to you, looking a little perplexed, "does she want to present them to the whole team, or just to us? Why'd you call us out here?" “Well, I need you to follow me to talk to a witness and I thought this would be a good opportunity to get Andrew involved. Since you two know each other, I figured it would be easier to work together,” he gestures vaguely between you and Andy. You nod in agreement, “I’m good with showing him the ropes.” Hotch nods, gives you a quiet, ‘good,’ and wanders off with Derek. The three of you return to the room you’d been borrowed from and sit back at the table. Andrew pulls your chair out for you and you haltingly take a seat, your eyes flashing to Spencer and finding him caught up in a conversation with JJ.

The officer proceeds to fill you in on what she saw and you can’t help but bounce your gaze between the two men. Andrew occasionally returns your look, Spencer seemingly distracted by the officer's story. When she’s explained everything and shared her beliefs on the case you thank her and JJ escorts her out on her way to find Hotch. Reid immediately throws his energy into working on the profile, blocking out any comments from Andrew and focusing. His sudden disregard of Andrew's presence only feels slightly pointed, Andrew occasionally shifts uncomfortably in his seat when Spencer doesn’t respond to his input. You try to balance it out by answering him quickly enough that it might come off as Reid not replying redundantly, but that’s a flimsy plan and you know it. When it hits early evening, you decide to grab some coffee and offer to grab some for the others. “I’ll come with you,” Spencer volunteers, rising from his seat, “help you carry things.”You nod and smirk at him. Since you’ve started dating he’s used any excuse he can to be one on one at work. It’s quite sweet and you always feel a little special when he makes up a reason to get you alone.

Hovering over the coffee station you turn to him, “so what’s up?” He jolts slightly before trying to regain his unbothered disguise, “what do you mean?” “You’ve been staring at Andrew like you’re trying to set him on fire, you’re unusually clingy, and you’re completely refusing to talk to him,” you shift to rest one hand on your hip, a grin teasing at the corners of your mouth as he fidgets at being caught. “I- um,” he fiddles with the hem of his suit jacket, “I just don’t like new people…er- I have to get used to him.” He’s avoiding eye contact and trying to hide the twitch between his brows and you know you’ve got him, “so you’re not jealous?” “N-no, absolutely not,” he jerks to look at you. You hum affirmatively and turn back to the coffee pot. “Just out of curiosity,” he almost sighs, “he seems very comfortable being physical with you. Were you two ever…” He lets the end of his sentence drift off into the void, clearly hoping you’ll stop him before he has to ask. You finish his thought, “together?” He nods bashfully, staring rigidly at the floor. “No,” you chuckle, “I’ve never even had feelings for him. I think we kissed once, but I honestly barely remember so I wouldn’t even count that as anything besides adolescent experimentation.” Spencer nods firmly like he’s decided something, “that’s understandable.” “Thank you for talking to me, baby,” you reassure him, knowing the pet name will distract him enough to mend any residual anxiety he feels. You can practically see the way his heart flutters when he looks at you with a quickly building flush, “o-of course.”

You load up the coffees and take them back to the group that now includes Prentiss. She brought snacks from the vending machine, correctly predicting that none of you had eaten since landing. You snatch a bag from the pile and tug it open, immediately placing one of the chips on your tongue and sighing as you chew. Andrew grins at you, amused by your expressiveness. You continue your dissection of the case, throwing around theories and filling in profile details. You look up to ask Reid something and Andrew interjects. “Oh, you’ve got something there,” he leans forward and extends a hand. Before you even have time to try and fix it yourself, his hand cups your jaw and he brushes a thumb across the corner of your mouth and cheek to clear the crumbs from your chips. You feel your face heat at the unexpected contact, “t-thank you.” “No problem,” he replies, breezy as ever. You dare a peek at Spencer and are met with a red faced picture of envy.

The clock hits 10:17 and Derek loudly announces his defeat with a big stretch and an almost dad-esque overly exaggerated yawn. “Well, I think we’ve made good progress,” he sighs, “but it’s probably best if we all go rest up.” He looks at Hotch as if looking for permission. Hotch slides back from the table, “I agree. I think we’re approaching the point of diminishing returns on this for tonight.” With your unit chiefs approval you all start to gather your things and head for the door. You slowly walk out, trying to give enough time for Spencer to catch up without being suspicious, when an officer stops you. “You’ll want to go out that way,” he points at a hallway that runs perpendicular to the one you’re walking towards, “the only things down there are storage and empty janitor closets.” You nod and timidly thank him. Being stuck in the one room for so many hours must have gotten you turned around. Luckily, that provided a good excuse to hang back and let Reid meet you. He moves up to you, keeping a respectful distance by his standards, but still close enough that it feels intimate. You walk out the front door and load into a car together, watching as the others get into their own rentals and slowly pull out of the parking lot.

“So,” Spencer starts off, “how are you feeling?” You smile to yourself, “not super tired honestly. Mostly hungry right now.” “Do you want food,” he seems almost hopeful. You nod, your smile unable to be kept to yourself anymore, “doesn’t the hotel have a restaurant? How late are they open?” “All night as far as I know. I checked the sign while we were waiting earlier,” you can almost hear a chuckle of smugness in his voice. “Perfect,” you pat his thigh and grin.

The hotel restaurant is open to the lobby, a bar wrapping around one side to partially frame the separate area. You snag a booth towards the outer section, Spencer facing the front door to the hotel. You settle into the cozy atmosphere, dim lights and soft music filling your senses as drinks and appetizers are ordered. An impromptu date night is exactly what the two of you need after a long day of travel and working such a tough case. Spencer's eyes suddenly drift from your face, landing somewhere over your shoulder and suddenly lighting with annoyance. You start to turn, interrupted by someone calling your name and then Spencers. Andy pops into your eyeline around the end of the booth, “hey! I was just about to get food myself. Mind if I join you guys?” You open your mouth to tell him you’d like some alone time, but he cuts you off, “are you guys on a date?” He looks between the two of you, a small grin on his lips, “sorry that was a mean joke. Anyways,” he slides into the seat, his leg brushing yours, “how are you guys feeling about this case?” You glance at Spencer and see the bubbling anger beneath his eyes. Something waiting under the surface that frightens and excites you in equal measure. “Actually, we were discussing some personal matters,” you look at him, trying to use the silence and your expression to get across that he should leave, “so, if you don’t mind…” “Oh! My bad,” he glances between you two awkwardly, “can I just get a drink and then I’ll leave? I did really want to hear opinions on the case.” Spencer sighs, quiet enough that you only pick up on it because you’re used to how he breathes, and nods. Andrew discusses the case with you, his theories and the aspects that confuse him. It’s honestly a pleasant conversation between the three of you, until he accidentally ruins it.

“So I’m in a room with…David,” he says the name like a question and looks between you two for confirmation that comes in a synchronized nod, “and he’s not a bad roommate or anything, but I’d rather we were sharing a room.” You visibly see Spencer tense out of the corner of your eye. He had relaxed, possibly accepting that Andrew wasn’t a threat, but you guessed this would undo all of that. “Remember when we used to do sleep overs? Your house always had the best snacks,” he reminisces. You smile at the memories, “yeah, that was always such a blast. I remember when we broke the tv remote and had to find duct tape to hide it,” you giggle. Andrew's face creases in a laugh, “your dad was ready to kill us for that one.” You can sense Reid quietly fuming and suppress a giggle at how outrageous this is. Andy turns to Spencer, “did you have any sleepovers as a kid?” “No. I didn’t have many friends,” he deadpans, clearly struggling to hide the annoyance hiding behind his eyes. “Ah, okay,” Andrew adverts his gaze back to you awkwardly. You try to move on, changing the subject, “how did I not know you were working in the same field as me?” “I told my mom that it was top secret so she wouldn’t post every single detail of my career on Facebook,” he laughs, welcoming the shift in conversation.

You chuckle, “that’s smart, until she figures it out at least.” “Well how would she figure it out? She barely knows how to look something up and none of our other friends from back in the day work this job so she doesn’t know anyone else to prove me wrong.” You let an evil grin creep onto your face, “sure she does. She knows me.” What you’re implying clicks for him, “no. No you wouldn’t.” “Oh, I would,” you giggle maniacally. “Nonononono,” he fights the smile trying to break onto his face. You overexaggerate pulling your phone from your pocket and beginning to type, “in fact…let me text her right now, it’s been so long since we talked.” Andrew reaches over and snatches your phone from your hand. He holds it between his thumb and forefinger before quickly swinging it into his other hand and stuffing it behind his back. You extend an arm, trying to get between him and the back of his seat before he can fully relax against it again. He sees your plan and raises his arm above his head, dangling it over you. You try to grab it without physically hopping from the seat, to no avail. You tug on the sleeve of his shirt to try and pull his arm down, suppressing the childish urge to swat at his side. While you struggle, Andrew's laughs distract you from the quiet shuffle across from you, Spencer stands and reaches across the table. He yanks the phone from Andy's hand and flops back into his seat before your friend can try to grab it again. You turn just in time for Spencer to signal he’s going to toss the phone your direction. You catch it and shove it into your pocket as quickly as you can. Andrew sits, amused and stunned, in silence. You turn to him and stick your tongue out, Spencer does the same. When you look at Reid again there’s a small smile on his lips. He looks proud of himself.

“Wow, I didn’t expect interference from Dr. Reid over here,” Andrew chuckles and gestures loosely at Spencer. “I know how to have fun,” Spencer chuckles, “and there was no way she was going to be able to reach your hand without help.” Andrew laughs harder than expected, caught off guard by his words, “true!” “Well sorry I’m not freakishly lanky or whatever,” you mock pout, crossing your arms and turning away from them slightly.

Andrew opens his mouth to continue the joke but is interrupted when a waiter appears. He turns and orders his drink. You drop your act and glance at Spencer to find his eyes already on you. He’s making a face that makes your heart speed up. There’s a warning in his gaze. There’s a fire burning behind his pupils that warms your insides, that you know will catch you if you let it touch you. You want to seek out the flame, let it take you over and show you the feelings he’s been burying since the new agent showed up, but you know you don’t have the time or energy for it now. Spencer licks his lips absentmindedly, dragging the tip of his tongue across the plush surface before it disappears again. When you find his eyes again you’re met with a smirk, he was watching you. He watched as you watched his tongue, watched his lips, and let the thought of what else he could be doing with those things sneak into the forefront of your mind for a moment. You pull your eyebrows together in a silent shaming of his teasing. His reply is the quirk of an eyebrow that tells you this is no time for sass. You immediately school your expression and feel the fog of giving up control start to slip over you. Spencer notices and his expression eases, welcoming your compliance. Normalling you’d scold yourself for how easy it is for him to get you like this. Before the pressure can build even higher, Andrew turns back around. The tension between you and Spencer snaps and you let your facades click back into place as you both shift to face him. “So, about the case,” he swirls a finger over a whorl in the wood tabletop, “I’m a little stumped. What’s your theory?” You let the moment move on and focus on discussing the case with Andy, even when you can feel Spencer eyeing you in silence.

The next morning you wake too early for justification. You toss and turn as you try to go back to sleep, eventually giving up and throwing on a cardigan and sweat pants so you can trudge down to the lobby for coffee. You shoot a text to Reid to let him know where you’re going and pass on an invitation as you ride the elevator down. You take a seat in the lounge with your steaming cup of coffee, briefly letting your eyes close as you relax. “Hey,” you hear an overly chipper voice from your right and nearly jump out of your seat. Your eyes fly open to see Andrew taking the lounger on that side, “h-hey, what’s up?” “Did I startle you,” he giggles, “sorry, I just figured you could use some company.” You gesture at the seat he’s already in, “go right ahead, I don’t mind.” The two of you fall into easy conversation, time flying by before you can realize it. A shadow drifts over you for a moment and when you pause the conversation to see what’s blocked the light from the overhead lamps, you find a very clearly irritated Spencer. His arms are locked at his sides, eyes on Andrew, mouth in a thin line across his face. “Good morning Spence,” you beam up at him. He gives you a tight grin, “morning. You’re up early.” You think he must be disappointed he doesn’t get you to himself like he expected this morning. “Yeah, I guess my body decided it was time to get up,” you giggle. Andrew opens his mouth to say something when your phones all start buzzing with a message from Hotch. ‘We’ve got a lead to follow, get to the station as soon as you can.’ Andrew groans and you smile up at Spencer, “do you want me to grab you some coffee?” He nods briskly, “I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

You gathered Spencer's coffee, all went your separate ways to get ready upstairs, and reconveined later at the station. You take a seat next to JJ, sliding into the leather chair and adjusting the hem of your skirt slightly. Andrew sits next to you, Spencer across from you, and you don’t miss how Reid's eyes drag across your exposed collar bone. The lead turns out to be nothing special, it gets you some new information but nothing that’ll make the case. Hotch wanders off with Derek and Emily to interview someone, leaving the four of you in a room with a few officers from the precinct. You all pour over details of the case, studying maps, lists of victims, databases of every person that bought specific items in a specific time window, until your eyes hurt. JJ makes the executive decision that you should take a break and eat something. Once food is delivered and handed out to the correct recipients the officers disappear to their own break room, your team staying in the conference room they’re in, and the room falls into silence of people enjoying their meals. You and a few others had ordered bottles of soda, the glass bottles clinking satisfyingly in the brown paper bag everything came in, you now absentmindedly ran one finger around the rim as you zoned out and thought of things from the case to what your friends back home might be up to.

Andrew nudges you with an elbow, “you know what this makes me think of?” You hum and raise your eyebrows in question, turning to see the wide grin on his face. “The last time we got these kinds of drinks together,” he makes a face that tells the others in the room this is some sort of inside joke. Your eyes roam around his face for a moment as you try to remember the last time you had these sodas together. Andy slowly raises his eyebrows and it clicks in your mind. You feel your eyes widen and your face heat the tiniest bit, “oh nooooo,” you start to laugh, from nerves and entertaining memories in equal measure. He nods, grin growing wider somehow, “Sophie’s house, right before college.” You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose between two fingers, “yeah, I forgot about that,” you laugh. “I didn’t,” Andrew chuckles, “I doubt Sophie’s forgotten about it either.” You bat at his shoulder and bury your face in your other hand, “oh my god, shut up.” You hear Andrews laugh from behind your hand. “Wait, I gotta know what this is about,” JJ chuckles, no doubt excited to have something to tell Prentiss later. “Noooo,” you groan, uncovering your face to try and reach a hand over Andrew's mouth before he can spill your secrets. He lifts from the chair slightly and bats your hand away with a raucous laugh, “oh, I’ll tell you.” You eventually give up and sink into your chair, pulling your knees up as high as you can to bury your face, covering your head with your arms. You can feel Spencer's eyes on you as he sits silently. You know this story won’t be his favorite and you’re trying to prepare for the effect it’ll have.

“You guys might not know this, but she used to be a party girl,” you can hear the smug smile through your arms. JJ gasps quietly, surely for effect as the team already knew you were a little wild as a teen, “really?” “Oh yeah,” Andy continues, “this one time, we went to our friend Sophie's house while her parents were out of town. It was the weekend before a bunch of us were leaving for college, so we wanted one more big party.” “As the party started winding down a bunch of us went downstairs to the den to play some games. When we got down there we couldn’t decide what to play. One of our friends took the soda bottles,” he gestures between you as you peek over the plane of your arm, “the two of us had and suggested we play spin the bottle.” You turn your head slightly to see Reid immediately tense. “This one over here,” Andrew juts a thumb in your direction, “was the star of the night. For whatever reason the bottle really favored her so she ended up-” You fling your hands out in a ‘halt’ motion, “okaaaaayyyyy, that’s enough of that story!” JJ chuckles, “wait no, I have questions.” “I will allow for three questions,” you sigh, dragging a hand down your face. JJ giggles quietly, “so how many people did you kiss?” You grimace and look at Andrew, “how many people were there?” “Six if we don’t count you or me,” he says, matter of fact. You cover the blush on your face with one hand, “so…seven…” JJ laughs in surprise, “wait, so you two have kissed,” she points between the two of you. “Yes, and I’m counting that as a question,” you almost shout trying to get the sentence out. She just grins, excited to have this new info. Andrew interjects, “I will say, so she doesn’t get too embarrassed, it was just kissing. There was no seven minutes in heaven shenanigans going on.”

“Oh wow, my hero, thank you so much,” you sneer at him, your words dripping with sarcasm. JJ waves a hand to stop the tangent, “so I’m sure I already know the answer, but were substances involved or were you just like that normally?” You can see a mischievous glint in her eye, this is more friendly teasing than a real question, “yes. I was not normally just kissing all my friends.” Andrew laughs, “only when we played certain games. Jeremy definitely thought you guys were going to end up together after that night though. I honestly thought we would end up a thing and-” Spencer stands from his chair, cellphone in hand, “hey, can I speak to you in the hall? Hotch just sent me something for the two of us.” You find his eyes and find yourself recoiling and wanting to reach for the darkness behind them. His speech is clipped and you can feel the irritation in his voice and see it in the tension of his shoulders. “Yeah, of course,” you rise to standing, “be right back guys," you smile at your team members. JJ gives you a smile, “let me know if you guys need anything!”

As soon as you’re through the door Spencer grabs your wrist and starts to lead you towards the storage hallway. “Spencer, wait, where are we going,” you whisper shout. He doesn’t respond, you can see the tick of his jaw over his shoulder. He’s pissed and you can’t tell if he’s about to lecture you, shout, or put you over his knee. He’s never shouted at you before, but you find yourself wondering how far this anger will go. You sharply turn a corner and are met with a few heavy old doors. He tries handles until one opens and you’re dragged into a dark file room. There’s shelves made into aisles, a few desks, chairs, and lamps spread all through the room. The air feels heavy with dust, the furniture looking to be at least twenty years old. He spins you and pins you by your shoulders to the door. “Spence, I’m so-” “Shut it,” he interrupts you, the flame behind his eyes back to heat you from the inside out.

His fingers twitch against your shoulders as his eyes rove over you. He eventually settles on staring at your mouth, “here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stay quiet, you’re going to behave, and you’re going to take whatever I give you until there is no question in your little head of who gets to have you like that. Okay?” You nod your head, already feeling the fog slipping over you. “I need words, gorgeous,” Spencer implores you, “I’m not angry, but I want you to remember what’s mine. if you aren’t comfortable with this we can go back and pretend nothing happened.” “Y-yes, I’m comfortable,” you nod your head again. “Good,” he smiles fondly, “now hush.”

He leans forward and captures your lips with his, the warmth searing into your skin and threatening to burn you alive. He deepens the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip almost immediately and you can feel the barely restrained lust behind his actions. You’ll never know this, but the thing that set him off this time wasn’t even entirely Andrews' fault. He’d started, very vaguely, describing the events of that night and Spencer's mind went wild. He pictured you, dressed down how you did when you weren’t working, maybe wearing a tank top and jeans that hugged you in all the right places. The way your hips and shoulders would roll as you crawled across the floor to the recipient of your kiss. Half hooded eyes and your hair falling effortlessly over one shoulder as you slunk over to them. Suddenly he was in your friend's place as you rose onto your knees, laying one against the outside of his hip as you moved to straddle him on some tacky 80’s carpet. The weight of you on him once you were fully seated, your legs bracketing his. Your gaze dropping to his lips as you leaned in and licked your lips. How you’d taste after a couple drinks. The whoops and chuckles from the other participants, some already having experienced this for themselves, but not the way he gets to. The way your hips always mindlessly grind against him when you’re in this position and how you probably wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from doing it again even with all these people watching. The out of breath sort of way you’d smile after you broke contact. Spencer just couldn’t keep to himself knowing that Andrew got to witness that side of you.

His tongue meets yours, a messy kiss that unfurls something inside you, he tastes like sweetness and coffee. Reid kisses the corner of your mouth and one of his hands leaves your shoulder, coming up to grip the underside of your chin and pushing your face up so he can kiss down your jawline to your neck. He’s careful not to leave any marks, but the contact drives you crazy no matter the briefness. His other hand trails down your body and only momentarily stops to grab at your right breast. His hand travels lower, meeting the hem of your skirt. He slips the tips of his fingers under, brushing against the warm skin of your thigh and causing you to jump slightly, not in shock, but from the build up of so much tension and anticipation. You feel Spencer smile against your collarbone and find yourself flushing, knowing that he must realize how much you need this too. Your skirt slides up your thigh as he hand shifts higher until the lace adorning your hips is under his fingertips. His teeth brush against the side of your neck where your blood is pumping a mile a minute. Spencer meets your lips again, kissing you hard and hot. He starts to unbutton your blouse with one hand, the other dragging your leg to curve around his hip.

This was one of the only times his height annoyed you. Normally you loved how he slightly towered over you, the way his body could cage you against walls or make you feel shielded with the way he hovered behind you during investigations, but it made these sorts of things hard. You knew that with your back against the door he’d have to stand at a strange angle if he wanted to be inside you, which is where you hoped this was headed. You press the heels of your palms to his chest and push. He looks at you, a little confused and wounded, until you point behind him. One of the desks in the room is already mostly cleared off, aside from an outdated bankers lamp and a few stray papers. Spencer turns back to face you with a wicked glint in his eye. Instead of dropping the leg he has wrapped around him, he pulls your other leg to rest on his hip. Before you can react he brings both hands up your legs to squeeze your ass and lift your hips to meet his. You squeak in surprise as he locks the door and walks you over to the desk. He practically throws you down, a quiet huff of exertion passing his lightly swollen lips. Reid tugs your skirt over your hips and scoots you so your hips meet his again.

He leans down to press his lips to the skin just above your breast, “I bet you don’t even know what you’ve been doing this whole time.” “W-what do you mean,” you stutter as he grinds his hips against you. He chuckles darkly, “acting like you’re not taken. Acting like he’s the greatest thing under the sun, right in my damn face.” You start to argue but a hand on your throat cuts you off, “walking around like I don’t own this beautiful body, like you wouldn’t sell your soul to me if you could.” His eyes land on yours and the pure possessiveness in them nearly takes you out. You let out a pathetic whine, letting your head fall back and praying it’s enough to keep you from unraveling. He ruts against you again and lets you feel the effect you’ve had on him pressed hard and scorching against your barely covered cunt. You press against him and draw matching whimpers out of both of you. He drags his hands up the outside of your thighs, fingers spread wide to touch as much of you as possible.

“I was willing to let so much slide,” Spencer puffs out as his fingers play with the border of your underwear, “but you guys just kept pushing my buttons.” You bite back the noise that almost slips from you when he slides his tongue parallel to the edge of the cup of your bra. He mouths at your nipple through the thin mesh cup and you try to press your hips against him again. One hand holds you in place with his thumb using near bruising force against your hip, the other migrates to hover over your weeping pussy. You start to protest, but he shifts your panties to the side and immediately glides a finger between your folds. He chuckles, “you’re soaked. If I didn’t know better I’d think you told him to say all those things so you could get this reaction from me.”

You whine and thrust your hips towards his hand without even meaning to. Reid tuts like he’s disappointed, “hush and be patient.” You open your mouth to say something, but it turns into a jumble of words as one finger enters you, “ohmygod.” “Hm,” he hums, tilting his head and raking his eyes over the parts of you that are exposed to him, “you’re lucky I’m prepping you. I wanted to just tear into you the second we got in here, but I’m more polite than that.” “T-thank you," you whimper, one hand jumping to hold onto his shoulder as he adds a second finger and pumps them in and out of you. “You’re very welcome, angel.” Spencer pulls down one cup of your bra after the other, gently lifting your tits from the comfortable mesh so he has access to them. He kisses you, burning and rough, his hand cupping your jaw. After a moment he hooks his fingers inside of you in tandem with a sudden breaking of the kiss so he can watch you react. You don’t disappoint as your eyebrows draw together and your mouth falls open on a strangled mewl.

“Look at that, I didn’t even have to ask you to open for me,” he smirks as he presses his thumb to your bottom lip then lets it glide into your mouth. Spencer presses on your tongue and jaw just enough to have you stuck in his hold, then dips his head. He swirls his tongue around one nipple before sucking it into his mouth. The need for his thumb in your mouth is made obvious when you have to fight to stay quiet immediately upon contact. He laves his tongue over your warm flesh while his fingers pick up speed. The hand on his shoulder travels up to the nape of his neck, finding its home in his hair. He groans against you, the sound muffled by your flushed peak in his mouth. You tug on his hair and rip a whine from his lips. He freezes for a moment. You look down and find his deep eyes watching you. He removes his thumb from your mouth, squeezing your jaw like a warning before removing it from your body entirely. Reid goes back to what he was doing and you let your eyes roll back as you cover your mouth. You distantly pick up on the sound of clinking, but you know the doors locked so you don’t focus on it.

You can feel your orgasm approaching. Warmth pools in your core, your legs start to feel fuzzy, and you can feel yourself losing strength in the hand that covers your mouth. You unintentionally tug on his hair again and this time he groans deeply. “Knock it off,” his voice is so muffled that you almost ignore it entirely, but the huskiness excites you too much to properly write off as background noise. Your body starts to tense as you tumble towards your end. Your toes curl, your grip on his hair and your face tighten, and you arch towards Spencer. He suddenly pulls his fingers from you, ripping away your orgasm with them. He stands up to his full height again, eyes ever watching your face.

“Nonononono-,” you whine despite the disapproving look he gives you. Your complaints are cut off when the blunt head of his cock suddenly rams into you. The hand that isn’t holding himself comes up to press against your lips, silencing the noise that tears from your throat. He lets out a deep groan that’s more like a growl as he sinks into you, the sound rumbles through his chest and you swear it knocks your brain loose because all thoughts and rationality slip away as he fills you. The orgasm you lost comes exploding back into your body as you clamp down on the sudden intrusion and arch into him. Your arm instinctively wraps around his shoulders and pull him towards you for support as your whole body is taken over with fireworks and warmth. “Oh fuck,” he moans quietly.

You come back into your body, regaining control and a hint of sanity as you focus back on what Spencer's doing. He sits with his hips pressed to yours and breathes deeply, closing his eyes momentarily. Spencer opens them again, “do you remember what I said,” he asks you, “about taking whatever I give you?” You nod your head. “Good. You’re doing so good, angel.” He draws his hips back and only gives you a moment to prepare before he’s punching into you. You shriek behind his hand, luckily it muffles it enough that you aren’t worried. Normally Spencer would start gently, letting you get used to him, but you don’t have time today. You groan at the harsh pressure in your core. It hurts, but just enough to make you want more.

‘Of course you had to pick the hung nerd that’s perfectly fine with fucking you in a storage closet at work,’ you curse yourself. Spencer grabs your arms and moves your hands to rest against his chest, not stopping the movement of his hips. He then grabs both your wrists and pushes them against your chest, “lay down darling, it’ll be easier that way.” You listen, not even thinking of how dusty the desk could be, and lower yourself until your back hits the desk. He keeps hold of your wrists and face as he finds a punishing pace to thrust into you.

“You know,” he pants, “we could’ve been doing this in the hotel, but you just had to push it, huh?” You shake your head at him. “Don’t lie. First it was about Andrew, then today you come in wearing this little skirt to top it off? And then I have to hear about you getting passed around a party,” he smirks, “the only time I want you at that kind of party is if I bring you there and get to take you home.” Your eyes roll back as his grip on your wrists becomes almost too much. He’s panting and grunting above you, hair mussed and collar crooked and it’s going to do you in too fast if you don’t avert your eyes. Spencer slams into you, “I bet he’s never gotten to see you like this, right beautiful? Only I get to see you all fucked out and begging for more. He’s never had you chained to the bed and coming undone over and over, has he? He probably doesn’t even know how rough you like it or that you want someone to tell you what to do. He’s never seen you crawl across a room to suck his cock just because he asked you to.” You moan wildly under his hand, your body going limp as he drives you crazy. He lets you go to press his thumb against your throbbing clit and you feel yourself wail before you even hear the muffled sound that makes it through his other hand. He makes dizzying circles over the bud, pleasure ripping through you as you approach another orgasm.

“I-if- fuck- if I let you talk will you be good? No one can hear us or I-I’ll have to stop,” he asks, struggling through his words. You nod your head frantically, wanting to do whatever he wants of you. “Good girl,” he growls, letting you get out one last whine at his praise before uncovering your face. “Thank you,” you near whisper. He smiles, “who do you belong to?” “Y-you,” you bite back a moan. He groans, fucking into you deeper, “who does this pretty cunt belong to?” Your body strains and you see him fight to not react as you clamp down on him, “you, y-you.” “Such a good girl for me,” he drops his head briefly, fighting back sounds, “not for anybody else.” “Just for you, Spence.” “Fuck,” he throws his head back before looking at you with so much hunger it might scare you if you weren’t so insanely into this side of him, “just for me. No one else makes you feel like this, right baby?” You nod your head, the fire in you starting to swallow all your senses as it creeps higher, “just you. No one else has ever made me feel like this.” “You’re so perfect,” his hips start to falter, his thumb pressing against you harder. Your eyes struggle to stay focused the closer you get to cumming. “You own me, baby. All of me,” you manage to get out as you slip off the edge.

Spencer’s hips slam into you roughly as his head falls to your chest. He’s curled over you as his hand flies back to cover your mouth and stop the noise that starts to climb your throat. He bites into your flesh just above your left nipple as his orgasm washing over him in tandem with yours. You cum together, your whole body tightening and spasming as the ecstasy washes over your body like a crushing wave. You feel the warmth explode inside of you as he loses his composure and lets your skin muffle the deep growling moan he unleashes as he fills you.

That woman, that demon, had grabbed his long hair and pulled him. He felt infection spread from where she had touched him. He dumped the groceries on the kitchen counter, likely breaking a few eggs, and threw open the junk drawer.

Where is it, where is it-

Dude found a pair of scissors, old, rusted, and stained from opening a bag of ground beef and not washing them since, and rushed to the bathroom.

He watched his reflection, seeing where the demon in the store had touched him. The hair looked darker there.

Maybe it's just clumped together with grease he reasoned, but he couldn't take that chance. Dude slammed the scissors down on the sink, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a hair tie he always kept in his jeans. He pulled his hair into a ponytail, the band positioned just above the infection, and cut it off. The remaining hair flowed into his face, framing him with jagged edges and missed strands.

His hair, previously down to his mid back, was now barely shoulder length in its longest sections. His eyes were focused on his reflection in the dirty mirror, but he noticed movement from behind him and realized his angel had manifested again.

"She was a demon, wasn't she?" Dude's voice broke as he met the angel's glowing eyes in his own reflection.

"She was but a symptom of a further infection." its voice was still becoming more human the more they talked, beginning to gain some bass and lose its ethereal tone.

"W-What do I do?" Dude asked with a shaking tone.

"Bide your time, child, for your lord will show you when the time of reckoning is at hand." it laid a hand on his shoulder, touching him for the first time. The touch was heavy and inhuman, like a powerful magnet drawing all the iron in his blood to where it sat, and the hand burned against his skin.

Despite the pain, Dude did not pull away. He accepted the touch, hoping it would cleanse him of the sin that nestled deep inside his soul, hoping it would burn bright enough to destroy the darkness that kept him unholy.

He looked so pretty underneath you, his face a painting of pure bliss as you rocked your hips against his. He had one hand on your hip and the other grasping at the sheets as he whimpered out praises. “Fuck baby…..’ts so good.” His words were falling out like a waterfall due to the amount of pleasure you were bringing him with each drag of your hips. 

It was honestly funny how this whole scenario played out, he had gotten home from a long and grueling day at work, feeling like nothing had gone right. It started as an innocent cuddle session, with you petting his hair and kissing all over his cheeks and nose, tracing every small imperfection on them with your lips. Then those kisses traveled lower and lower until before you knew it you were slowly pulling down his boxers and licking up his pretty cock. He had a couple prominent but sensitive veins that when touched by your fingers and tongue made him unravel quicker than anything else.

Back to the moment at hand however, your body on top of Ethan’s, his face was so beautiful as his brows were knitted together and his eyes closed shut tightly. You dipped your head down to capture his lips in a soft and tender kiss, his hands letting go of your hip and the sheets to gently grab at the back of your neck and cheek. The kiss was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each roll of your hips. He moaned into your mouth with every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, every so often clenching around it deliberately which forced out a long string of whimpers as he felt himself be brought closer and closer to the edge.

His hands left your face and neck to grasp at the sheets below as you picked up your pace in riding his aching cock. “F-fuuuck….” A small stuttered out moan coming from his puffy kissed out lips as you lean back to take in the sight below you. “Fuck, fuck fuck-“ Quick whimpers coming from his lips as the tip of his cock kept kissing your cervix due to the position.

 Every lift and drop of your hips hitting the perfect spot inside your body. “S-so good Ethan -fuck- you feel so good, my good boy.” The praises slipping out of your mouth brought him to release as his hands twisted the sheets below. You could see the prominent veins on his hands almost bulging as his knuckles turned white from the strength of his grip. 

You could feel the waves of white hot cum paint the walls of your tight pussy as you kept going to bring yourself to completion. The overstimulation causing him to moan and whimper even more:

“Too much -fuck- baby- too much-“

His pleas going unheard as you brought your own fingers down to rub at your puffy clit as you kept rocking your hips on top of his. He couldn’t deny how pretty you looked as you moaned out every single praise in the book towards him and his cock. “You’re such a Pretty Boy, such a Good Boy, god-“ He let go of the sheets and brought up his toned arms and hands to cup your tits, squeezing them softly as your hips began to stutter.

After a few more squeezes and a few more drags of your hips he felt your pussy tighten around him causing him to moan and whimper even more than before. Within a few moments your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, you swore you could see stars flash behind your eyes in the midst of the storm. You sat on top of him panting for a moment with his now partially hard dick still inside, his hands slightly shaking as they still kept their grip on your tits; after a few moments his hands left and pulled you down so he could kiss your soft lips, mumbling praises in between. 

A Word with Friends: Mendacious (coming soon)

He shut his mouth. Lips white.  Rook eased off him. Just a little. “What’s your name?”  “Bethim.”  “Bethim,” Rook repeated. “I can make this worth your while in one of two ways. One: I pay you a substantial amount of coin to tell me everything you know about your mysterious moonlight messenger; Or two: I let you keep all your fingers and toes, and walk away with whatever you give me to convince me to do that. Now, try to be frank. You know of the Agents of Fen’Harel? Or do I have the wrong house?” *** The Splintered Wheel was a broken down inn of rotting wood and thatch just off the road north of Wildervale. Crossing the Vinmark Mountains was grueling and treacherous, and most people needed to take shelter in the sudden weather changes of late autumn, when the rains opened up over the plains without warning and the Free Marches became more of the Free marshes south of the Minanter. The Splintered Wheel offered mostly dry bedding, straw floors that reeked significantly less of piss and ale than some other establishments, and boasted a second floor for patrons wanting to stay the night. 

Rookanis/Veilguard Modern AU (title soming soon?) no i have no idea where this is going I woke up in a cold sweat at 1 am to get this on paper. I might scrap the whole thing:

Rook jogged their leg as they checked their phone for the hundredth time, standing on the curb with their yellow motorcycle helmet under one arm. Their motorcycle hummed idly, leaning on its kickstand by the curb until Rook absently punched the ignition key with the only amount of force the old sport bike seemed to respond to. The engine purred to a halt. 

Phone lit up blank. Again, nothing. 

“Dammit, Harding,” they huffed under their breath, turning to take harried steps onto the sidewalk, afternoon sunlight heating their brown leather jacket and their canvas backpack heavy over one shoulder. Rook ducked under the shade of the vibrant purple awning and through the gold detailed double doors of the charming old building. 

It was tourist season in Treviso. Normally that wouldn’t bother Rook, only now their afternoon coffee breaks were whittled away by mile long lines of aviator glasses and pretentious sun hats. Cafe Pietra, normally so pleasantly filled by the scent of espresso grounds and baking bread (heavenly) was masked by cheap colognes and the cloying chemical sunscreens of unfamiliar patrons. 

Rook stopped abruptly behind a woman’s obnoxiously patterned power suit. Grimacing, they paused and continued to jog their foot as they waited for the line to the counter to shrink. Their lunch break was only so long. It wasn’t fair to be annoyed every summer by strangers, maybe they ought to be getting more sleep. Somewhere closer to the menu hanging over the counter and written in cheery chalk-marker, a young child started to tantrum.

Rook’s eye started to twitch. 

A few deep breaths drowned out the noise and the crush of the lunch crowd and the packed round tables crowding in on all sides. Rook leaned out of the way of a passing qunari, who was shepherding a beautiful young elf under his arm with infinite care. He exchanged with Rook a tight-lipped ‘so sorry’ kind of smile as they squeezed out towards the doors, and the brief relief of seeing the elf woman laughing at something he had said and the acknowledgement of morality in the cramped space made Rook feel a little lighter. They tried to take another deep breath and be patient, still jogging one leg in place, helm under one arm and phone in hand, waiting for the buzz.  

“Rook!” Came a familiar, flirtatious croon. A man rose from where he’d been holding court at one of the small tables, abandoning his audience near entirely to open his arms and squeeze close to Rook’s side.  

Rook burst into a wide grin, fueled by surprise and delight in equal measure as they adjusted their helmet on their hip. “Illario! Good to see you. Happy Tuesday.” 

“Happy Tuesday indeed, if you are here.” He squeezed their shoulder and threw out one of his perfectly white, winsome smiles. “Some crowd, hmm?” 

“Yes, what is going on?” 

“Music was promised, I believe. A performer from Minrathous.” Illario shrugged an elegant shoulder. “The Cantori family is hosting, as usual. Drew in a big crowd off the morning train.” 

“I see. You’re in a meeting?” Rook frowned. “Don’t let me keep you.” 

“Not at all. I was growing bored.”  Illario shuffled forward with Rook a few steps as the line inched. “They can go on without me for a few minutes. How is your work?” 

“You don’t care about my work,” Rook laughed, grinning sidelong at him. 

“No,” Illario hummed, tutting. “It is a pity I can’t find your dusty old artifacts more interesting. But! I thought I’d offer you the courtesy of small talk. Unless you’d like to discuss the weather? Or is something else weighing more heavily inside that handsome head? You’re twitchy,” He grinned, folding his arms in his blue satin shirt. 

“That obvious?” Rook tamed the immediate flush that warmed their cheeks with determination. ‘Do not flirt with Caterina’s grandson.’ Strife had said it less like a warning and more of a clause, a demand in a contract. ‘I don’t care what happens, what is said–. If we lose our funding because of some messy tabloid scandal, Rook, so help me gods–’ 

“What have you found?” Illario leaned forward, almost eagerly, glacial blue eyes bright. 

“You don’t care, you said.” 

“But you do! I like that look you get in your eyes when you launch into some adventurous tirade of betrayal and civil unrest in elvish bygone days. What is it this time? Shards of broken pottery? Scraps of a general’s loin cloth?” 

“Illario,” Rook warned half heartedly, hiding their smile as they craned their neck to scan the menu– despite having every order already memorized or written out in their notes app. 

“You must be very tired of kneeling in the dirt and sweating all day. But you wear it well. I think you deserve a break. Somewhere cool, with thinner, finer fabrics–” 

“Oh, enough,” Rook laughed, blushing in earnest now. 

“Why?” Illario cooed, scenting victory on the air as he grinned. “You’re pretty when you blush.” 

“Yes, and you’re always pretty. Go away.” 

Illario sucked his teeth, chastised, and snapped his fingers across his body in a bouncing gesture of dismay. “Rats. No witty retorts today, then? No joust of compliments? I have been looking forward to Tuesdays.” 

“I hear you,” Rook said with a bob of their head, still pretending to scan the overhead menu so they didn’t have to meet his sparkling, intelligent gaze again.

 Illario Dellamorte was an infamous cheat, flirt and uncannily adept gambler– known throughout the city’s nightlife as a dashing spectre one with sense would best avoid (for fear of losing it) and cutthroat business man who represented family offices throughout Treviso. He moonlighted as a sought after male model in nearly every magazine Rook had seen since arriving in Antiva in the spring. By day, he was also the spoiled grandson of Caterina Dellamorte, chairwoman of several luxury hotels, chief operator of three separate wineries (and one coffee farm in Rivain) and the respected owner of a large swathe of land along the beaches of Rialto Bay.

That land was being graciously lent to the Veil Jumper Archaeological Agency for a five month long historical dig, half submerged in marine environment and yielding wreckage of qunari voyages dating back to the Storm Age and fragments of elven artifacts abandoned by ancient smugglers, lost to the reefs.

Illario would much rather chat up his grandmother’s clients or flaunt his impressive cheek bones on camera than negotiate contracts and file away emails. That had become increasingly clear when he’d first crossed paths with Rook in the past month- Tuesdays, where their schedules overlapped. He'd offered Rook his number. Rook had refused. Ever since, it had been an unspoken pleasure between them to exchange small talk and gossip in the breaths caught between meetings and lunch breaks, or the errands Rook ran for their team.

And turns out I do have some new crumbs from Chapter 6!

“I heard you’re going by Rook now.” 

They stared into the face of the man they’d not seen in three years. Strife hadn’t changed at all. “Yeah. I am,” they said slowly. “That’s not supposed to be operational.” They pointed to the collapsed sentinel armor and its gilded joints and gears.