Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I didn’t want to leave a really long author’s note so I just made it this way so it’s easier to read. If you want to skip my disclaimers, proceed to the next chapter!!!!!

First, this fic is brought to you courtesy of my best friend. You don’t know her, but she fielded all my frantic phone calls and put up with my incessant, anxious questions. She was my first audience and, without her, I would never have written this. So if you like this story just know it only exists because of her patience and the way she screamed in delight with every chapter I sent her.

Second, I started this when I knew a lot less about the publishing industry so don’t come for me about anything relating to Cecily’s career. I aimed for semi-plausible, and that’s about it. I know it’s inaccurate. I know it’s implausible. But I also know it’s fiction so shut up.

Third, this fic isn't completed. I'm still in the process of writing it, and I have about four chapters left in my current plans. I will be posting the remaining four chapters as I finish them. There aren't any more cliffhangers, but you will need to be patient because I have no idea when I will get around to finishing them. I did tag the fic based on what I plan to do with the whole fic.

Fourth, this is set in the Criminal Minds Universe. Bad things have happened and bad things will continue to happen. BUT, this is also a universe where my stupid little found family get to have HAPPINESS and ALL BE TOGETHER because I say so.

Non-Exhaustive Still Cannon Things: Tobias Hankle & Reid’s addiction and addiction recovery; Emily dying & then no longer being dead; Maeve & Maeve dying; The Reaper; Morgan having a kid.

Things in Cannon I’ve Tweaked: Gideon left the BAU after Frank, but he did not die; he’s just living his best road trip life and every so often he’ll send Reid a postcard. Emily didn’t leave the BAU to run the CIA office, she’s still part of the team. Haley didn’t die. Haley & Hotch worked out their marriage problems. Morgan stayed with the BAU. JJ kissed Reid when he was reeling from Maeve’s death. Strauss is still alive being happily miserable somewhere because fuck that noise, but Rossi is not involved w her. Reid going to prison is not a thing because it SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN A THING.

In my head, this was kind of like S.7/S.8/S.9 Spencer, but it honestly works with any version just as long as you mind the background trauma. All the cases I mention are nonspecific and not tied to canonical cases so you can kind of drag and drop anywhere.

Fifth, they have unprotected sex. They have a lot of unprotected sex. But this is fiction, so, that’s safe for them to do. In this canon, Spencer’s had a vasectomy and Cecily doesn’t have fallopian tubes anymore so no one’s getting pregnant. They’re both clean from any STIs. They also had a lot of convos about this shit before they actually had sex, and being unprotected is something they both decided for themselves that they were okay with. I didn’t include those convos in the fic for various reasons, but they were had and I felt it necessary to mention them.

Sixth, and Finally, I would like to dedicate this fic to everyone who watched Criminal Minds, saw Spencer Reid for the first time, and went “Oh I want to make that man my bitch.” I see you. I am you. And I hope this gives you joy.

Chapter Text

“She looked at nice young men as if she could smell their stupidity.”

― Flannery O'Connor

The skirt of her sundress swished around her thighs as she walked. The dress was black, with a contrasting design of pastel pink roses littered about at odd intervals. It had cuffed sleeves, so several of her tattoos were visible snaking down her arms. Her black platform boots made a satisfying thud on the pavement with each step. A pair of sword earrings, a silver serpent ear cuff, and various rings completed the ensemble. Oh, and of course, her black sunhat. Her hair was short, cut to a bob that framed her face, and had a dark purple tint in its color. Her eyes were a piercing blue. Honestly, walking around a book faire, swirling the remains of an iced coffee, Cecily Duke looked like the perfect picture of a mentally ill queer.

And that’s exactly how she liked it.

She hoped her general appearance and vibe would deter anyone from recognizing her. It was a far cry from the professional headshot on the inside sleeve of her novels. She just wasn’t in the mood for some stranger to ask her about plot points for the next installment of her series, ya know, on account of her being completely blocked. She had come here today to get away from work. That, and to see if she could snag her upteenth copy of Pride & Prejudice. Which she also didn’t need anyone asking about.

Cecily sidestepped the vendor selling paper backed horror pulp fiction in favor of a cool tent with shelves of old hardbound volumes. The tent was pretty spacious, shelves of books rimming the perimeter with a couple small tables in the center. Besides the vendor, there was only one other person in the tent. He was scrunched over a book. Literally. The man was upwards of six feet tall, and lanky. He wore a dress shirt, khakis, and a blue cardigan. A thin tie hung halfway undone around his neck, and a leather messenger bag hung across his hip.

Cecily glanced at the books on the tables first, but didn’t find anything of note. Then she moved around the perimeter, examining the books’ various spines. Still nothing piqued her interest. She moved to the shelf the other customer stood in front of, trying to stay out of his way. He didn’t seem to notice her presence. She flipped through what appeared to be a very old thriller, but couldn’t pick up on the premise enough in the first few pages to figure out if it was worth reading. Then she noticed the cover of the other customer’s book. A collection of old English poetry.

Before she could think to stop herself, Cecily recited:

“‘And in this book were written fables / That clerks had in old time, / And other poets, put in rhyme / To read and for to be in mind / While men loved the law of kind.’”

He glanced up from the book, and looked over at her. His eyes were sharp, honest.

“Chaucer,” he said with a small smile.

Cecily nodded, and gestured to the cover of his book. He glanced at it.

“Oh,” he said, understanding.

“Sorry,” Cecily said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, it’s alright.” He stood there for a moment, fingers drumming against the book cover, then said:

“‘Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.’”

“Shakespeare,” she said.

He nodded. Cecily fiddled with the top of the bookshelf, and decided to try a different quote.

“‘Remember my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker.’”

“Bram Stoker’s Dracula,” he said, and then offered up another quote: “‘Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.’”

“Ooh! Mary Shelley.”

He turned to face her then, closing the book save for one long finger pressed between the pages to keep his place.

“‘The world is indeed full of peril,’” Cecily said. “‘And in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.’”

“J.R.R. Tolkein. Um… ‘To the poet, a pearl is a tear of the sea.’”

Cecily considered his words before offering an answer.

“Jules Verne,” she said. “‘It is sometimes a little lonely to be surrounded everywhere by happiness that is not your own.’”

His head tilted to the side, and his fingers drummed on the book again. Cecily saw his eyes light up when he came to an answer.

“L.M. Montgomery,” he said. “‘There are those who have knowledge and those who have understanding. The first requires memory and the second philosophy.’”

“Alexandre Dumas. ‘I’m living in a world of goldfish.’”

“Sir Aurther Conan Doyle. ‘If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.’”

Her eyebrows shot up at that.

“You know Jane Austen?” Cecily asked. “What am I saying? Of course you know Jane Austen. She’s my favorite.”

“I’ve read all her works. Good choice.”

“Who are you?” Cecily said, before she could stop herself.

He laughed at her incredulous tone, and offered up a little wave of his hand.

“I’m Spencer,” he said.

“Cecily,” she replied. “My friends usually just call me Cece.”

“‘I would sooner have a pink rose. Because you are like a pink rose, dear Cecily.’ Sorry, that…” he fumbled, cheeks flushing. “With the quotes, I just...sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Cecily said, with a smile. “I wouldn’t be named Cecily if I didn’t love The Importance of Being Earnest.”

Then she added in an exaggerated voice:

“‘I can’t eat muffins in an agitated manner. The butter would probably get on my cuffs.’”

Spencer laughed.

“Did you know that although many consider him to be a very prolific writer, and I would argue that this is an accurate description, Oscar Wilde only ever published one novel in his lifetime?”

“Really?” Cecily said.

“Yeah. The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“I should probably get around to reading that…”

“Oh you haven’t yet? It’s good.”

Cecily paused. Spencer shuffled his weight from side to side. They both eyed each other, wondering what to do next. It would be the polite thing to just move on. They didn’t have to keep talking.

“Do you want to maybe walk around the faire?” Cecily said. “With me?”

Spencer smiled. He had a nice smile. One that lit up his eyes. Cecily liked it.

“I’d love to,” he said.

* * *

Was this real? It didn’t seem real. He’d been walking around the book faire for the past two hours with this fantastical woman. Their conversation spanned a whole manner of topics, from the decline of literary criticism to the merits of reading fiction to the proper way to keep and store books in your personal library. Dog-earing pages was expressly forbidden. Spencer was relieved over her indignation on that point when he had brought up the topic.

Honestly, he was relieved over their conversation in general. It was rare for him to form connections outside of his workplace, especially with someone so intelligent and passionate as Cecily. Plus, nothing he said had scared her off yet. Which was nice. He was trying his best not to profile her, and had done an okay job of it.

“Spencer,” she said, cutting into his thoughts. “Come look at this.”

He rounded the table they were by to stand beside her. She handed him a hefty volume that he had to hold in both of his hands. Glancing down at the page, he recognized it as a thesaurus. It was bound in red leather that had faded with age to a beautiful, dark crimson color. The perimeter of the pages still held the faint golden glimmer of gilt. It seemed to be in good condition, aside from a few stains on a couple of pages.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

“Isn’t it?!” Cecily said. “I’m trying to decide between this and that atlas we saw…back over there somewhere.”

“Two aisles to the left, and four booths down. ‘Churchmouse Findings’ is the vendor’s name. Right next to the place selling tiny pies.”

Cecily blinked for a second. He stood there with his hands wrapped around the edge of the big book, a shock of curly brown hair flopping down into his face.

“Right,” she said, recovering. “Now, which one do I pick?”

“Why not get both?” he asked.

“You make a compelling point… I accept.”

Cecily smiled conspiratorially, twirled around, and took the thesaurus up to the register. Spencer almost giggled watching her. He kept guard by her stack of books in the meantime. Cecily returned empty handed a few moments later.

“They’re keeping it at the register for me so I don’t have to lug it around,” she said.

“Do you want to go back for the atlas?” Spencer asked.

Cecily nodded. She scooped up her stack of books, and the pair headed off in that direction.

“I know there is no such thing as too many books,” Cecily said. “But I have more than I can read in like six months here.”

Spencer glanced at her stack again. “That would be a very good lunch break for me.”

“Either you have the longest lunch break in history oooooor…?”

“I read 20,000 words per minute.”

Cecily stopped walking. He stopped too, and watched for more of a reaction. He expected the usual: doubt, intimidation, sometimes anger. But Cecily just kind of smiled at him.

“Hmmm…” she said. “How does that work? I can’t even listen to videos at two times speed. To read that fast?”

Spencer shrugged. “It helps to have an eidetic memory, I suppose.”

He could see her thinking. Readjusting her mental image of him and he wondered again if this would be the end of their pleasantries. Before he could come to a conclusion on her opinion, Cecily started walking again.

“Remind me never to get in another quote battle with you,” she said as she passed him.

Spencer smiled, and caught up to her.

“Alright so your job doesn’t have the world’s longest lunch breaks,” she said. “Which, is a little bit of a bummer. But, um, what is your job? If you don’t mind me asking. And if you actually like your job, and want to talk about it. If it’s just like a job that you do while you wait to do whatever you actually want to do, then you should tell me about what you actually want to do, ya know?”

“I’m a profiler with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” he said. Then, almost as an afterthought: “And it is what I want to do. What about you?”

“I’m a writer. Novels. Love stories mostly.”

“Would I have read any?”

“Do you remember reading anything by Cecily Duke?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

She cut down an aisle, and Spencer followed.

“My writing isn’t anything groundbreaking,” Cecily said. “I am proud of it, for the most part, and I love what I do. But I also abhor the thought of someone feigning interest while I prattle on about it, so if you’re not genuinely interested, it’s okay. My ego is fine so please don’t pretend to care.”

There was a story behind those words, and a history in her tone of voice. Spencer knew it had nothing to do with him or anything he had said. He thought for a moment about asking her to explain, but decided against it. There would be time for that later, assuming there would be a later. He wanted there to be a later.

“I don’t know how to do that,” Spencer said out loud. “Why would anyone ask about something they’re not interested in? Unless the intent was to trick the other person.”

Cecily shrugged. “Hell if I know. People are weird. Ooh! Pretty bookmarks!”

She darted into a nearby booth, and he went after her. The day wore on. They did eventually make it back to purchase the atlas. In the ensuing fumble to rearrange her books to accommodate the new one, Cecily didn’t notice Spencer scribble a note on the back of his business card and place it between the pages of one of her books.

They ended the day retrieving Cecily’s thesaurus, and Spencer helped her carry everything to her car. She drove an old Volkswagen Beetle, whose faded paint still had some semblance of the color blue. They piled all of the books onto the backseat. Cecily closed the door and leaned against it, looking at him for a long moment. Then she produced a tiny notebook from the pocket of her dress, and scribbled something down. She tore out the page and handed it to him.

“Those are the titles of a few of my books that I think you would like,” she said. “And my phone number. If you want to text me. It also does calls, but I’m much better at writing than speaking.”

Spencer stared at the paper between his fingers in awe. He didn’t say anything.

“Or I suppose, now at least you have a bookmark for your Chaucer,” Cecily said at his continued silence.

“What? Yeah. Wait, no!” he said, all in a rush.

He shook his head, jostling his chestnut brown curls in the process. Then he looked at her with painfully sincere eyes. 

“Thank you,” Spencer said. “I’m glad I met you.”

He saw a smile tug at the corner of her pink lips. Her cheeks had a rose hue to them. He felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach as her shimmering blue eyes held his gaze.

“I’m glad I met you too, Spencer,” she said. “Talk to you later?”

Spencer nodded. Cecily got into her car and drove off. He didn’t know why, but he watched her go. On his way home, Spencer stopped at a bookstore. He bought a copy of each novel written by Cecily Duke.

“Love moderately; long love doth so; too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.”

— William Shakespeare

Chapter Text

“If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.”

— Haruki Murakami

Cecily sat on the floor of her library the next morning. She curled her fingers around an oversized mug; it was shaped like a skull, painted black, and filled with a wonderful concoction of coffee and creamer. Her orange tabby cat curled up in her lap, purring up a storm. She scratched him between the ears.

Cecily attempted to thumb through her copy of Dorian Gray , but the cat and the coffee made it a little difficult. She soon gave up the task, and returned to her original mission: finding places for her new old books. As she opened one of them, a small piece of cardstock fell out. Cecily picked it up and glanced at it, intending to throw it away. However, her hand stilled when she caught a glimpse of the writing on the front.

Dr. Spencer Reid

Of course his last name was Reid... And he was a doctor?!

She sipped her coffee, and stared at the little rectangle between her fingers. He had given her his info. Without her knowing. Presumably before she had given him hers. Her coffee sips grew louder, as if the answer to her thoughts would somehow be discovered the more she turned into a cartoon.

The faire was fun. It had been the perfect distraction. Spencer, sorry Dr. Reid , had been an…unexpected…surprise. It wasn’t like she would ever see him again. There was no way he’d text.

Still…

Her curiosity got the better of her. She fished her phone out of her sweatpants pocket, careful not to disturb the sleeping kitty, and opened the web browser. Cecily punched his name into the search bar and hit enter.

Her eyebrows shot up as the results loaded.

“Holy shit !” she said.

Article after article on Dr. Spencer Reid, the child-genius prodigy from Nevada. She skimmed through each one; read the highlights of his academic career, articles on his work in mathematics and psychology; words and concepts that made her head spin. He had been the youngest person to ever receive FBI agent status, joining the BAU a full year before he should've even been allowed to apply to the academy. The more she read, the more she felt the glimmer of possibility die inside her.

“3 doctorates?! And 3 BAs?!” Cecily said. “This man has SIX advanced degrees and I couldn’t even be bothered with one?!”

Cecily closed the browser, and set her phone down. She remembered her coffee and drank from the mug. Not that it did anything, other than make her brain more aware of the situation her stupidity had landed her in.

“He must think I’m a plebe,” she said out loud to no one. “I must have sounded so stupid yesterday, I…I thought I was making good points… Fuck!”

And then another thought occurred to her:

“Oh god I told him about my writing! I…I gave him book titles. He read the note. He will remember that forever. Oh god oh god oh god.”

She would’ve been pacing if there hadn’t been a sleeping cat in her lap. Instead, Cecily set her mug of coffee down, buried her face in her hands, and proceeded to groan. She felt like she might die of embarrassment.

“You met a literal genius, and proceeded to tell him about your silly little romance books, you idiot,” she said to herself. “You complete and utter buffoon .”

Cecily stayed like that for a long while. Then she took a deep breath, and picked her head up.

“Welp,” she said. “Guess there’s another story if I ever fail at writing and become a standup comedian.”

She picked her coffee back up, and moved to throw away the business card. Again, her hand stilled. This time, because she noticed something on the back of the card. She turned it over.

Scrawled across the back in atrocious script were the words: “This was the only paper I had, and I wanted you to have my number. Sorry if that’s too weird. ~ Spencer”

She smiled, and felt her stomach flutter. Though Cecily did her best to convince herself that last bit was just the coffee. She stared at the message, ruminating again on everything she knew about the man. He hadn’t seemed intimidating. If anything, he was… engaging .

Cecily of all people understood what it was like to feel like an outsider. Why would she do that to him? And hey, maybe it would be good for her to be around someone who could intellectually outclass her.

The young novelist turned the card back over and saw with relief there was a cell number. She picked up her phone again, opened the message app, and queued up his number. She posed the card, note side up, in between the pages of Dorian Gray and snapped a photo. She typed a quick message, hit send, and yeeted her phone across the room. It landed with a thud on the couch.

Cecily tucked the card carefully into the folds to serve as her bookmark, and closed the book. Then she gave her cat more scratches and finished her coffee, trying to decide if she was brave…or just an idiot.

* * *

Was the writing of Cecily Duke something Spencer would have considered reading on his own?

No, absolutely not.

Did he have to admit the woman knew what she was doing?

Undoubtedly so.

He found himself agreeing with her own assessment; it wasn’t anything groundbreaking. She wasn’t trying to reinvent the wheel. Which he thought was part of what made her writing so beautiful. There was power in the way she wrote about love. A level of empathy and understanding Spencer hadn’t experienced outside of his own mind before.

Her influences were clear, but they didn’t overpower her own voice. The sex scenes intrigued him, and served a narrative function, which he appreciated. Her characters were real, and messy, and although he didn’t always connect with everything, he understood it. As for the portions of her work that he did connect with, Spencer found himself wanting more. What he wouldn’t give to see her original drafts, or even her notes.

All in all, it had been an enjoyable and enlightening evening reading her works. He hadn’t been able to finish all of them, as sleep was unfortunately a requirement, so he brought the last couple books with him to work the next morning. He sat at the round table, running his finger down the page as he read and nursing a cup of tea, when Garcia walked in.

“Morning, Reid!” she said.

“Hi, Garcia,” Spencer mumbled as he turned a page.

Technical analyst Penelope Garcia was a ray of sunshine personified. Quite literally today, as the color of her dress and shoes was a shade of yellow which would physically cripple a lesser being. Her hair was done up with a ridiculous purple scrunchy, and the rims of her glasses sparkled in the light. Reid thought that if faeries existed, they would be like Penelope.

She fussed with the tv screen for a few moments, making sure all of the relevant data for the latest briefing was ready to go. Spencer registered that she was humming under her breath, but aside from that she didn’t bother him. This was a typical morning for them. Whenever he got in early, he would sit and read something or do paperwork while she buzzed around like a honey bee. They preferred it this way.

So her gasp shocked him. He looked up from his book, startled, and prepared to leap out of his chair.

“What?!” Spencer said. “What is it?! Are you okay?”

“Are you reading The Stars Crossed series?!” Garcia said.

Spencer sighed and settled back into his chair.

“Yeah,” Reid said.

“That’s only like my favorite book series ever!” she said, beaming. “I’ve been trying to get Emily to read it, but she refuses!”

Garcia squealed, and sat in the chair next to Reid.

“AH! Okay!” she said. “Tell. Me. Everything! Who’s your favorite: Jessica or Nathaniel or – oh wait! Where are you at?”

Before he could respond, Garcia looked over his shoulder at the book in his lap.

“OOH!” she said. “Okay okay okay, there’s a really big twist coming but –”

“–Garcia!”

“What? No, I won’t spoil it! It’s so good! It’ll change the way you look at the whole series. Trust me. It blew my mind. I was reeling for like a week!”

“Jessica’s the one that’s been writing the letters, isn’t she?”

Garcia smiled. “I can’t tell you.”

“It has to be. By linguistics alone, it’s her. And there’s no one else who could possibly have that information.”

“I’m. Not saying. A. Word,” Garcia insisted. But she was grinning from ear to ear. “Oh! You have to tell me when you get to the next book though. Because there’s apparently some big riddle or puzzle or something. I’ve scoured the message boards for the answer, but came up empty. So now, I will just rely on that beautiful big brain of yours.”

Spencer smiled.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll let you know.”

“This is so exciting! I can’t believe I have a buddy to talk about these books with!” she said. “When did you get into this? I didn’t think it would be your thing. No offense.”

“It’s not,” he said. “But I met the author yesterday, so I decided to read her stuff.”

Garcia gasped. “YOU MET CECILY DUKE?! Where?! How?! What?!”

“Cece? Yeah,” he said, not understanding why Garcia was so agitated. “We were at a book faire yesterday.”

“You’re on a nickname basis with Cecily Duke?”

Spencer shrugged. “I…Wh…I guess? She just said that’s what people call her. I…”

“I’m so jealous! She hasn’t done a public appearance in years. I tried to hack her beta readers list once so I could get advanced copies of her work, but the publisher has everything on Stars Crossed locked up tighter than the pentagon. I did manage to find the email address she has for Ao3 so now I follow her fanfiction account, which is something at least, because there’s been zero news about when the sixth book in the series is coming out. I can’t believe you met my favorite author!”

“I thought I was your favorite author,” Rossi said.

Reid and Garcia turned to see the grumpy Sicilian uncle that is David Rossi enter the room. Garcia flashed him an innocent smile.

“You’re my favorite author that I know in real life,” she said.

“You’re gonna hurt my feelings, Penelope,” Rossi said.

Garcia and Rossi moved over to have a conversation at the coffee stand. Spencer put his book away as other team members filtered in for the briefing. His phone went off. With a puzzled look, Reid opened up the text message that had just arrived.

A little bubble with the words “Clever boy…” sat beneath a photo of his business card tucked between book pages. A few seconds later another bubble popped up. This one said: “It is weird. But I’m weird. So I loved it. ~Cece”

He smiled at the little screen. She…she had texted him.

“What’s got you all smiley, pretty boy?” Morgan asked.

Reid looked up from his phone to find Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, and Rossi all staring at him. He put his phone down.

“Nothing,” he said, trying his best to act casual. “It’s nothing.”

Before any of them could question him further, Hotch stepped into the room and the briefing began. They were headed to Kansas for a serial. When they were dismissed, Reid went to his desk to grab his go-bag, and then headed to meet everyone on the jet.

As they waited for takeoff, Spencer pulled out his phone, and texted Cecily back:

“I’m glad you texted, but I’m working on a case. Can I call you when I’m back?”

A few seconds later he got a response:

“Yes.”

* * *

Four days. Four whole days of work, and reading, and trying not to think about Dr. Spencer Reid. Her phone sat silent, except for the occasional work-related missive. Cecily was behind on pages, and her agent, publisher, and editor were all trying to decide if they needed to push back timelines. Again. They did. But she wasn’t going to be the one to tell them that.

Cecily sat in her study, pen poised to page. She contemplated giving up for the day and stress-cleaning her entire house instead. Her phone rang. She answered without thinking, still concentrating on the blank page.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hi,” he said.

Cecily gripped the phone and closed her notebook.

“Spencer!” she said. “Hi! Um..wait, I… You’re back!”

“Yeeees,” he said.

There was a moment of awkward silence that Cecily thought about filling with any sort of intelligent words. That was, of course, the moment when all grasp of language decided to vacate her brain.

“I’m now realizing,” Spencer said. “That when I asked if I could call, I didn’t actually think of what to say ahead of time.”

She laughed. “Yeah, um, no, I get that. I’m the same way.”

Silence hung between them again, and Cecily cursed her existence.

“How was your case?” she asked.

“Challenging, but it ended okay,” he said. “I can’t talk about the specifics.”

“Right, of course, that makes sense.”

“What book were you reading? The other day. From your picture.”

“Oh! Dorian Gray . I finished it today.”

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it. Incredible way to call out society for being vapid.”

“I thought so,” Spencer said.

“It was a good reminder,” she said.

“Of what?”

“That there’s more to life than pleasure. That there’s a difference between comfort and excess. That sometimes beautiful people don’t match their appearance. That maybe your life is better not getting what you want all of the time. That society needs to change to reflect that.”

“Hmm,” he mused.

“Not that I’m saying beauty doesn’t have a place,” she continued.

“Right. It’s not a critique of beauty so much as the skewed values the larger world, society, places on beauty.”

“Exactly! I think people are attracted to things that they find beautiful. Why else would there be art or music or poetry? And I think people want to be beautiful, or perceived as such. But it still begs the question, to whom? And to what end?”

Spencer paused. Cecily shifted her position on the couch to hug her knees to her chest as she waited for him to answer.

“Connection,” he said.

“What?” Cecily asked.

“You asked ‘to what end?’ Connection. Connection is the end. Society. Other humans. We want to be in community. We want to be needed, and wanted, and desired. It’s as old as time itself, really. We want to exist in a world where we matter.”

Cecily considered his words.

“I suppose therein lies the conceit of human folly,” she said. “That we twist ourselves in the hopes of gaining acceptance to the point of sacrificing what makes us truly beautiful.”

“If that is true then I’m okay being alone,” Spencer said.

“Yeah…”

They were silent for a moment. Cecily found herself spinning in the words that had just been spoken. In the past she couldn’t yet speak. So she gave voice to the only other thing that seemed to matter in the moment. And braced for rejection.

“Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow?” Cecily asked.

“I’m planning to read your last book, but that shouldn’t take me longer than breakfast, so I don’t currently have anything in the afternoon.”

“Do you want to get lunch with me?”

“Yes.”

“Like as a date?”

“ Yes .”

Cecily’s mouth fell open. Holy shit did that just happen?! He said yes?! Please, for the love of literature, she better not be hallucinating!

“Cece?” Spencer asked. “You still there?”

Cecily shook her head. “What? Yes, yeah, I’m still here. Um, okay, do you have any allergies? Oh god, you’re not a vegan are you?”

Spencer laughed. “No, and no.”

Cecily let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. They talked for the rest of the evening. Some of it was planning the date. Most of it was one of them going off on a tangent that spun from something else. Eventually, Cecily did have to end the conversation. She texted him the details for their date, and said goodnight.

“It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.”

— Andre Gide

Chapter Text

“The very essence of romance is uncertainty.”

— Oscar Wilde

Spencer could count the number of dates he’d experienced on one hand. Between his studying, work, being so much younger than his intellectual peers, and lacking what Morgan would refer to as “game”, romance never seemed like a viable option for him. It also didn’t help that the times he had wanted to start something, it ended in nothing short of disaster.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Not every man had a heart of gold like Morgan. Or Hotch’s unyielding integrity. Not every crush panned out. Not every love…got to live. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

This was different. She was different.

Spencer got out of bed and got dressed. The t-shirt he chose was light blue and had a little caricature of a dinosaur wearing glasses and reading a book. A little speech bubble declared the dino as a Thesaurus. It was a birthday present his fellow BAU members got him a while back. He didn’t have the heart to get rid of it, even though it didn’t match his style. That…and it was so comfy. He paired the shirt with a grey cardigan, khakis, and converse.

Reid forced himself not to fuss with his hair too much, otherwise anxiety would take hold. So he trudged into the kitchen for breakfast, picking up her book as he went. He sat down at the little table to eat, and cracked open the book.

His finger ran down the page as his eyes scanned each line. His mind soon danced with the images her words conjured. He wondered how much of her was buried in these pages. Pondered which pieces of her soul were broken to form which characters. Wished he knew how much of her fantasies were laced into the character’s. Of course he had his hypotheses, but this wasn’t a profile.

He finished the last page as he finished the last of his coffee. Something was tugging at the back of his brain; Garcia’s words about there being a puzzle hidden somewhere in this particular book. He hadn’t noticed anything odd except for the page numbers. They hadn’t been sequential, and a couple of them were even higher than the actual page count of the book.

At first, he considered the numbers being used for an equation of some kind, but discarded that thought almost as soon as it entered his mind. Cecily didn’t seem like the type that was into complex mathematics or advanced calculus, but he made a mental note to ask her about it anyways just in case they had more dovetailing interests. No, this had to be something else. Something more her …

Spencer abandoned the table in favor of his messy living room, and rooted around in the clutter for a notepad and pen. Alighting on the implements, he wrote out the page numbers in the order they appeared. He still couldn’t find much of a discernible pattern, but he noticed that the numbers fit into groups of three save for the last number.

Okay, so…probably a cipher. That was a safe bet. She liked words, after all. And if it was some sort of message for fans, that would be the easiest way. A cipher meant a key. Another safe guess to assume the text had some significance to her. Spencer stared at the last number he had written. A solitary #7. The number seven and a text relating to Cecily.

Reid glanced over at his overflowing bookshelves for inspiration. He replayed their conversations over in his mind, sifting through his thoughts to recall everything she’d ever said about literature. Most of the authors and works they’d talked about were singular novels or limited works. Jane Austen, her favorite author, only published six major novels so it couldn’t be that. Plus, he didn’t know how widely known the factoid of her favorite author would be. He did pull his copy of Dead Beat off the shelf, the seventh book in The Dresden Files series, and thumbed through it to see if that worked in the cipher. After a few attempts, he realized it wasn’t the key. He sighed. Maybe her blue beetle was just a car and not a reference to the series. He made another note to ask her about that as he put the book back on the shelf.

He sat down on his leather couch. The stack of Cecily’s books slumped onto his lap. He restacked them, long fingers running along the spines, almost without thought. Then he returned to his notepad. The strings of numbers taunted him with their silence. Wait… He glanced over at the stack of Cecily’s books again. And counted them. Eight books. Five in The Stars Crossed series and three standalone novels. Of course! It was so obvious now it was painful. He slipped to the floor, and took the notepad and books with him. He glanced through the front pages of each of the books and arranged them in publishing order. Her first novel, a standalone, the original triptych of Stars Crossed, another singular novel, the fourth book in The Stars Crossed saga, her more recent standalone, and her more recent Stars Crossed; lucky #7 being the third standalone novel.

He pulled that one out of the lineup. Stained Glass was the title. It was about a man trying to find solace after a tragedy, who ended up becoming very desperate to the point of destruction. It was darker than her other books, and not as clear tonally. Like she was asking questions she didn’t have answers to yet. Spencer had read it twice. It reminded him of his early days of addiction recovery. He wished he could’ve had her words with him then.

Spencer flipped through the book and took down each of the words the cipher directed. He smiled as a message began to take shape. Of course, he could have done this all by memory, but using the book was so much faster. When he finished, he held the notepad up in triumph.

The cipher riddle revealed the following passage:

To friend and foe, to lovers fair, I bid you all a welcome. My face though hidden demands to be seen though she speaks of me but seldom. I was not good, I was not fair, I really have no place. But curiosity’s too strong for even my absence to erase. I wish not disappointment on you, nor ill of any kind. So I leave another parting gift till last we may entwine. Your wish be granted, your fate be sealed, when these things do come to pass. She will grieve me no more, and you love me no less.

The man stared at the cryptic message he just decoded for a long minute. Then Reid called Garcia. She picked up almost immediately.

“Ooh this better be good, Boy Wonder,” Penelope said. “You interrupted me on a raid I cannot afford to lose!”

“Gregory is alive,” he said.

There was a momentary pause on the other end of the line. Then he heard Penelope’s voice again.

“Saving and exiting game now annnnnnd you have my full attention. Come again?” she said.

“Gregory. He’s alive,” Reid repeated.

“Gregory as in Gregory Seran? As in the love of Rebecca’s life? As in her sworn fiance turned vanished man turned heartbreak she never got over? As in the hunkiest of rom com hunks to have never actually graced the page in living form? Stars crossed, hearts broken, empty promises Gregory ?!”

Spencer sighed as he waited for her to finish. “Yes, that…that Gregory.”

“Okay, you’re going to have to show your work on that one, genius,” Penelope said. “It’s impossible – wait. Wait! Reiiiiiiiiid…did you finish book 5?”

“Yes.”

“You cracked the puzzle, didn’t you?”

“Yes, that is why I’m calling.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU LEAD WITH THAT?!”

“I thought it was obvious!”

“It’s sweet that you think my brain works as fast as yours, Reid. But enough chit chat. Spill the tea!”

Sencer smiled, and told Garcia about the cipher and the message he’d decoded. The two of them bounced a few theories off each other, but they both agreed Spencer’s was the most probable.

“Think about it, Garcia,” he said. “‘She speaks of me but seldom’, ‘my absence’, ‘another parting gift.’ The message isn’t from Cecily herself. It’s from a character. Who else do those phrases make sense for other than Gregory?”

“But him coming back could mess up everything!”

“Yeah! I know! Personally, I don’t even think she’d go for him now. Not after everything he put her through. And let’s not forget that he’s been gone for like, what? Five years as of the most recent book? She’s a completely different person now!”

“You’re only saying that cause you want her to end up with Nathaniel!”

“You don’t?! He’s the obvious choice.”

“I can’t decide who I like best, okay?! They’re all hot!”

Spencer laughed. He couldn’t argue that point.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll ask Cece about it when I see her later, and I’ll tell you if she confirms my theory so you can be prepared if / when Gregory shows back up.”

“You are literally the sweetest! I will go bake you cookies as a thank you right now!” Garcia said. Then, in the next breath: “Pause, back up, sorry, you’re seeing Cece later?”

Spencer’s heart fluttered at Garcia’s statement. She already knew about Cecily. It wasn’t a huge deal. He could play it off, if he really wanted. It had honestly been a slip on his part to mention it anyways. Gods, but he’d be lying if he didn’t like the implication in her tone.

“Um, yeah,” he said, voice soft. “We’re going to lunch.”

He could practically hear the wheels turning in Garcia’s mind

“It is a weekend,” Penelope said. “You don’t have work. And unless I seriously missed the memo for a nerd convention… Dr. Spencer Reid, are you going on a date?!”

“Shhh!” he said without thinking. As if there was anyone to hear her words. As if saying the reality out loud would prove it to be an illusion.

Garcia gasped. “You are! You’re going on a date! With Cecily freaking Duke! Oh my god! Reid !”

Spencer covered his face with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone to his ear. He felt himself flush as Penelope made a variety of excited happy noises. He knew she was biting back just about a gazillion more questions. Eventually, she subsided.

“Okay, well, thank you for the update and the usage of your intellect on that puzzle,” she said “I’ll leave you now. So you can go. On your date.”

Spencer hesitated for half a second.“Garcia?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can you…can you not tell anyone else?” he said. “I don’t wanna screw it up.”

 “Your secret is safe with me,” Garcia said. “And you won’t screw it up, Reid. She’s gonna fall madly in love with you.”

Spencer smiled, and the line went dead.

* * *

Cecily stared at the contents of her closet and cursed fashion and the gods for the simultaneous lack of outfit options and plethora of outfit options. Her room looked like a thrift store had just vomited everywhere. She couldn’t decide on anything. What was the appropriate level of cute and sexy? Should she even think about being sexy? Surely his mind wouldn’t be there. But it was a date. She kinda wanted his mind to be there. Her mind would probably be there. He was so frickin cute! Fuck, didn’t she get rid of that skirt? Oh, right, she’d kept it for a Halloween costume. What if she tried for sexy and went overboard and scared him off? Or, worse yet, what if she tried and he didn’t think she was sexy at all?

Spinning amid the clothes and shoes, Cecily remembered why she never went out anymore. She dropped the seven different outfits in her hand, and descended to the floor as the garments fell. She groaned and pulled her knees up to her chest.

Ideas were so much better in her head than in reality. She had hoped the spur of the moment ask would’ve circumvented all of this, but nope! Reality was painful. Ideas were nice. On most days at least she understood the stings of loneliness enough to not be bothered by it. This was just…difficult. Uncomfortable.

As Cecily sat in muted contemplation of her life choices, her cat brushed against her legs. Cecily sighed, and changed her position on the floor. The cat jumped into her lap, belly flopped, and purred when she pet him. Cecily smiled as she looked down at the little animal.

“What do you think, Took?” she asked. “Should I give up?”

Took let out a disgruntled meow and flattened his head against her palm.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “I’ll try one more time. No need to get pushy.”

He purred, oblivious to her words, and put his little paw across her bare foot. Cecily smiled, and scratched him behind the ears. Okay, maybe she was overreacting. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if a literal genius rejected her. Not that it was about that. It was the thought of him rejecting her. Whatever. Enough was enough. She wasn’t going to sit and wallow and panic over something that might never happen. She wouldn’t talk herself out of this. Not this time. Not over him. Cecily steadied her breathing, and calmed her nerves. Everything would be okay. Regardless of whether he found her sexy or not. But she hoped that he would.

Now, on to the actual outfit. Just cut the difference between cute and sexy and go classy. She could do classy. Cecily stood up, disturbing the cat who took refuge in a pile of scarves. Rummaging through the crap on the floor, her fingers alighted on the hem of a plaid jumper. That’ll work. She paired the jumper with a sleeveless dark red top, black combat boots, and a light grey oversized cardigan. For jewelry, she did rose gold star drop earrings, and a rose gold moon & star layered necklace. She kept her hair simple: down with loose, messy curls.

When she finished getting ready, Cecily surveyed herself in the mirror. She offered herself a small smile. Classy. And yeah, okay, she looked really hot in red. Giving herself a mental high five, Cecily grabbed her wallet, keys, and phone, and headed out the door.

The cafe she’d chosen for their date wasn’t too far away from her house. It was one of her favorites. It was set in an adorable string of little shops. There were a bunch of hanging plants and vines, and fairy lights. It never got very busy, but there were always a few people. She walked in, and glanced around, expecting to have to wait for Spencer.

Cecily found herself smiling when she saw that he was already there. The lanky man appeared to be examining a monstera plant near one of the tables. After a couple more seconds, Spencer looked up, and noticed her. Cecily waved. His face lit up with a wide grin. He returned her wave, and then walked over to meet her.

“ Hey ,” she said.

“Hi,” Spencer said.

They stood looking at each other for a moment, unsure of where to take the conversation. Cecily was just excited that he’d shown up.

“I like your shirt,” Cece said.

He glanced down at his outfit, and brought a hand up to ruffle his hair.

“Thanks,” Spencer said. “You, uh…you look…beautiful.”

Cecily did a little curtsey. “Thanks.”

They stood there for another moment, both unsure of how much eye contact would be appropriate.

“You wanna go order?” she asked.

“Right, yes, food. Food is good.”

They both moved to stand in line.

“If you like chicken salad, I definitely recommend,” Cecily said. “Also, their croissants are to die for!”

“Who doesn’t love buttery, flaky bread?”

“Exactly! You get it. Oh my god, okay, the coffee here?! Amazing. I swear, it’s like they put crack in their lattes it’s so good. They don’t actually put crack in it. It’s just really delicious. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No,” he said, smiling.

The look in his brown eyes sent Cecily’s thoughts reeling in so many different, tantalizing directions. She couldn’t hold his gaze for very long for fear of being lost in it. They stepped forward and placed their order. He got all of her suggestions. Cecily paid for the meal.

“I picked the place so I’m paying,” she said when he tried to argue. “You can get the next one.”

That last bit shut him up. She noticed, and smiled. Cecily thanked the cashier, and the pair went to sit down. Spencer chose the table. It was towards the back of the restaurant, under a big window. Dark wood, with matching chairs. Cecily didn’t mention that it was her favorite spot.

They exchanged more pleasantries. Cecily confessed to googling him, and Spencer was embarrassed about not telling her everything sooner. She waved away his fears, and asked him about his job. He answered all her queries, waxed poetic about the BAU, and even told her about Gideon. Their food came, and they started eating.

“I do have a question for you. I told one of my friends that I would ask you about this,” Spencer said. “She’s a really big Stars Crossed fan.”

“Shoot!” said Cecily between bites.

“Is Gregory alive?”

Cecily smirked. “Now what on earth would make you ask a thing like that?”

“I decoded your cipher in Under Moonlight , and got a message which can really only make sense if it’s from his perspective.”

“Ooh! You got the cipher? Damn, I didn’t think you would get that into it.”

“I analyze linguistics for fun, Cece,” he said. “I also happen to really enjoy your writing so it wasn’t that difficult.”

Cecily looked down at her food, unable to meet his eyes. She appreciated the compliment.

 “Is he alive?” Spencer asked.

Cecily nodded. “Gregory will be returning, yes.”

“Am I allowed to ask how?”

Cecily leaned over the table. Reid did the same on his side of the table till they were huddled close.

“He technically never died,” she whispered.

“I knew it!” he said. “Garcia is going to freak out when she hears about this.”

“You can’t tell anyone else though!” Cecily said. “I’m technically sworn to secrecy by my publisher. I probably shouldn’t have even confirmed it.”

“I vow my silence on the subject,” he said. “I’ll tell Garcia I was right and let her stew until the next book comes out.”

Cecily laughed. “Damn, Spencer.”

“She’ll be fine! That much information will keep her satisfied for a while.”

“She’s that big of a fan, huh?”

Spencer nodded. “You’re her favorite author. I was roped into a twenty minute conversation on Rebecca’s love triangle when she saw me reading one of your books at work. When I told her I met you, her eyes practically popped out of her head.”

“You brought Stars Crossed to work?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug.

Cecily balked.

“What?” Spencer said.

“Nothing,” she said. “I just wasn’t aware the BAU allowed for the casual reading of hardcore smut in their offices.”

“It’s not like there were naked people on the cover. I took off the dust jackets.”

“Which one was it?”

“Number 4, Smoke & Steam .”

Cecily looked down for a moment, and then back up at him. Her mouth twisted into a grin.

“The one…with the…shower..scene?” she asked.

Reid nodded. Cecily swallowed.

“You must have one hell of a poker face,” she said.

“I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump.”

Cecily coughed out a laugh. He smiled, and ducked his head.

“That has more to do with card counting than my poker face,” Spencer said.

“Don’t sell your face short! I’m sure it deserves at least partial credit.”

He blushed. Cecily waited until he brought his eyes back up to meet hers. Then she smirked. Spencer met her gaze long enough for her to see the way he looked at her. To see curiosity and willingness and…just a hint of challenge in those big brown eyes. She saw the barest trace of Spencer’s tongue as he wet his lips. And then he looked down again to stare at his hands, which were fiddling with his cardigan buttons.

Cecily felt desire burn in the pit of her stomach. For half a second, she contemplated reaching across the table, hooking a thumb under his chin, and directing his face back towards hers. She wondered how much it would take for him to fold. She really wanted to make him fold. She thought that he might want her to try.

Reid cleared his throat, and that was enough to bring Cecily back down to earth. She remembered they were in a cafe, on their first date, and that she needed to calm the fuck down.

“How’s your food?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Really good,” Spencer said. “Yours?”

She nodded, as if that answered his question, and took a long, loud sip of her drink. Cecily resolved to continue on as if nothing had happened.

* * *

There was too much space between them. There was too much space between them. She…why was she sitting so far away? Why was this table so goddamn big? Why was his head not resting in her lap with her fingers running through his hair?

Spencer took a deep breath, and steadied his thoughts. Safe to say this was a new sensation for him. Typically, he shied away from physical contact, unless it was from someone he’d known for a very long time, and even then it was iffy. Now to not only be okay if she were to move closer, but to actually crave it?

Spencer felt a knot twist in his stomach. Whatever this was between him and Cecily, it held the distinct possibility of devastating him. He knew that. But then she shifted her chair over next to his with the pretense of people-watching as they finished their drinks, and then she made up the most outlandish claims for the passing strangers that he had to correct her, and then they switched cardigans because she needed him to understand how comfy hers was which she insisted wouldn’t happen unless he tried it on, and then he felt himself wondering where she had been all his life and went looking for the answer in her eyes, and in her words, and in her laugh, and when he looked at her that terrifying prick of possibility didn’t feel so terrifying. So the unspeakable spark of hopeful connection undid the knot in his stomach.

They leaned back in their seats. Both of them rested their heads on the back of their chairs, faces turned towards each other. Neither one of them spoke. Spencer studied her face, committing every inch of it to memory. She smiled at him.

“Feel free to say no,” Cecily said.

“My answer is yes,” Spencer said before she could continue.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“My answer is still yes.”

Cecily laughed, and bit on her bottom lip. “Alright, fine. Come on.”

She got up from the table, and headed towards the door. Spencer followed. They exited the cafe, and started walking down the sidewalk to the right of the storefront. She stayed close to him.

“Why on earth does your cardigan not have pockets?!” Cecily asked, tugging on the bottom hem of the garment.

“I dunno,” he said. “I never noticed.”

“Oh, right, of course. Men actually have usable pockets in their clothes.”

He smiled at her exasperated tone, like she’d lived through this moment a million times and was somehow still surprised to be there. Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of the cardigan he had on, expecting to find some witty retort. His fingers stretched out as they were enveloped in soft material. He felt the edge of a small notebook, her phone, keys, wallet.

“Okay, these pockets are giant,” Spencer said. “You win. This is definitely the superior cardigan.”

Cecily shot him a smug smile, but she refrained from speaking the “I told you so” he saw in her eyes.

“You could fit a whole paperback in this thing,” he mused.

“Actually, I can fit four.”

She turned on her heel then, and strode into the store on their right. The lettering on the door declared it to be Sunnydale Stacks. She paused in the entrance, a tiny bell still jingling, and held the door open for him. He stepped after her. The familiar scent of paper, ink, and dust hit his nostrils. There was something innately comforting in the fact that all bookstores smelled the same; the universality of the written word seeping out into the buildings that held it. Cecily waved to the clerk behind the counter, an elderly gentleman she referred to as Giles, and headed towards the fiction sections.

She twirled amid the stacks, the skirt of her jumper flaring out around her thighs. She was comfortable here, at peace, walking like she owned the place. Books, words, paper; this was her world. And she knew it. They were towards the back of the store now. Cecily stopped walking, and turned to face him. She spread her arms so her hands rested on the shelves on both sides of the aisle, and leaned forward in challenge. He looked at her, eyes expectant and hands still shoved deep into her cardigan’s pockets.

“We’re going to play a game,” Cece said. “You enjoy games, don’t you, Spencer?”

Reid’s eyes sharped into intense focus as he looked at her, and he straightened to his full height.

“That depends,” he said.

“On?”

“On if my opponent is prepared to lose.”

Cecily’s grin widened, and she raised her eyebrows.

“What’re the rules?” Spencer asked.

“The objective is to find the most ridiculous, most implausible, trashiest paperback romance. I’m talking so bad it’s comical, phallic similes that give you the ick, boobs that disobey the laws of physics, characters as shallow as the cheap paper they were printed on. You only get to review front and back covers and one random page from anywhere in the book in order to make your selection. We’ll compare our choices, and whoever has the superior option wins”

“Okay, and what’s the prize for winning?”

“What do you mean?”

“There has to be some reason to play the game. What do you win?”

“Well, I usually buy the best options. I like to get wine drunk and read them. I claim it’s research to my agent and they hate that.”

Cece giggled, and then became serious again. “I see your point though. What would you like if you win?”

Spencer considered her question for a moment.

“Second date?” he said.

“No, that won’t work.”

He looked crestfallen, until he heard Cecily’s next words.

“I’ll just throw the competition if that were the case,” she said.

They shared a small smile.

“Okay,” Spencer said. “Uh…I get to keep your cardigan?”

“ Fuck no!”

“Alright, okay,” he said. “Too far. That’s on me.”

He held up his hands in surrender. This gesture placated her. His brow furrowed as he thought, and then relaxed a moment later when he landed on an idea.

“Whoever wins gets to pick where we go to dinner in a few hours,” Spencer said.

Cecily’s smile faltered and she looked down.

“You…you really wanna spend that much time together?” she asked.

“Don’t you?” he asked.

His soft words made her look back up at him. He saw the answer to his question in her eyes, and his heart fluttered in his chest. Cece cleared her throat.

“Your terms are acceptable, Dr. Reid,” she said. “Winner picks the restaurant. We’ll do best two outta three.”

Without another word, Spencer turned and began to examine the shelves with clinical precision. He scanned the bright spines, running his finger over the tops of the books. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cecily watching him. He would’ve blushed over the attention if he hadn’t been so focused on his task. After another few moments, he heard her walk over to one of the other shelves and begin her own hunt.

“The history of the classic romance novel is actually pretty fascinating,” Spencer said. “They started to gain popularity in the 1970s as a way to counteract the feminist movement. The themes and storylines most prevalent were used as a way to prop up the patriarchy that the current social movements were actively working to deconstruct. Many of them contained scenes of implied, or sometimes outright, sexual violence, with the women in them most typically being in a subservient or submission position to their hyper-masculine counterparts.”

“The term bodice ripper makes a whole lot more sense now,” Cecily mused as she slid next to him to study the shelf.

“That particular term gained popularity in 1980 and it was used specifically to refer to the sub-genre of historical romance. Only in more recent years has it become a generalization for any romance book with sexually explicit content, but it gained popularity so much so that traditional bodice rippers are now heralded as the direct precursor to modern romance novels. However, the first bodice ripper was actually published in 1972. It was a debut novel by Kathleen E. Woodwiss called The Flame and the Flower . It was the first longform romance novel to be published as a paperback instead of a hardcover, and it is entirely...”

Cecily looked up from the page she was reading as Spencer’s sentence trailed off. She had an amused look in her bright blue eyes, and her mouth curved into a teasing smile.

“It’s what, Spencer?” she asked.

Reid coughed, and put the book he’d been examining back up on the shelf. He moved over to the shelf on the opposite side of the aisle. Cecily wouldn’t let him get away that easily, and moved right after him. She leaned on the shelf, sticking out in his peripheral vision as he focused on the titles in front of him.

“It’s poorly written and I didn’t like it,” he mumbled.

“Oh my god!” she said. “So mine wasn’t the first smut you’ve read?”

Spencer gave her a rueful smile, but made no other reply. Cecily gasped.

“Dr. Spencer Reid, are you a secret slut ?”

The way that word rolled off her tongue was sinful. Spencer closed his eyes, and choked down the urge to beg her to call him that again. He swallowed, and took a deep breath, but dared not look at her. His voice came out shakier than he had intended.

“I was an unsupervised fourteen year-old on a college campus who spent all of his free time at the library. I was curious!”

Cecily cackled.

“And did your research yield any…results?” she asked.

Spencer dared to venture a glance in her direction. Her expression held mirth, but not in a vindictive way. It was conspiratorial. She genuinely wanted to know, even if she had to tease it out of him. He sighed, and gave her a lopsided smile.

“Uh, there were more than a few times I wished I could forget things,” he said. “But really the only item of note was that it confirmed for me that…I am attracted to both men and women.”

Cecily smiled. “Oh cool. Me too.”

“I know.”

She made a face. “You couldn’t possibly have known that.”

“Cece, no one writes about women the way you do unless they like them. And you’re on a date with a guy right now. I don’t exactly need a PHD in mathematics to solve that equation.”

Cecily laughed. “Okay, fair! But you don’t have to be so smug about it.”

Spencer smirked, and then moved past her down the aisle. Cecily glanced after him. He plucked a book off the shelf, scanned the cover, and then opened it. After reading the page, Spencer looked back over at Cecily. She was perusing the shelf he had just quit. Spencer watched her for a moment.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said. “I know that’s not always easy, and I wasn’t trying to downplay that.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” Cece said, with a smile.

He averted his gaze. Something in his posture must have tipped Cecily off because the next second she stepped towards him and closed the gap between them. He still didn’t meet her eyes.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” he whispered.

“Woah, hey, Spence, it’s okay,” Cecily said.

Her voice was calm and reassuring. He felt her fingers brush against his in a comforting gesture.

“I don’t really know how to do this either,” she said.

Spencer looked up, and met her gaze. She understood. He didn’t know why yet, but he knew that much. Spencer sighed and allowed himself to melt over the look she gave him. He leaned towards her, and she didn’t back away.

“You wanna figure it out together?” Cecily asked.

He nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Good. I’m free this Friday, and you’re planning our second date.”

He laughed. She smiled, and held up a finger.

“I mean that.”

“Okay,” he said. “By the way, I have my selections for the game.”

“Shit already?!” she said. “Give me like five more minutes.”

He nodded, and Cecily moved away to scan the shelves again. It was twenty minutes before she made up her mind. He didn’t care. Spencer would’ve spent an eternity in that bookstore.

* * *

Cecily tried to keep the stars out of her eyes whenever she looked at him, but at this point she was pretty certain that wasn’t possible. She’d almost kissed him like five times already, it didn’t matter if he saw that on her face. They sat in the aisle facing each other, their legs crossed underneath them. She saw his mismatched socks, one of which had bright blue police boxes all over it, and before she knew it, they were two hours deep into a Doctor Who discussion, and she was mapping out the progression of the doctor’s character to a man who studied behavior for a living. She became increasingly aware that the more excited she got about things, the less articulate she became. Spencer didn’t seem to mind, so there was some grace in that at least.

“It’s so good!” Cece said. “You can see it! You can see the shift in his behavior, and how he relates to humans, and the world, and like his festering emotions, and just…each of the actors gets to add and build on the story before, and it’s so fascinating to watch!”

“Your favorite is the 10th Doctor, isn’t it?”

“Wh – yes,” Cecily said. “Yes, he is. I am partial to David Tennant, and I will not apologize for that.”

Reid smiled at her.

“I have a replica of his sonic screwdriver,” he said. “I built it out of legos.”

Cecily’s mouth dropped open.

“Shut up!” she said. “That’s awesome. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Spencer nodded. “Yeah, I will.”

“Yay! Right, okay, um, I got very sidetracked, sorry,” she said. “We’re supposed to be playing a game.”

She looked down at the books between them. They’d each laid out three with the back covers facing up.

“Okay,” Cece said. “You go first.”

Spencer flipped over the book next to his right knee. Cecily giggled in delight over the image on the cover.

“What is that?” she asked.

Cecily snatched the book away from him, and squinted at the cover design.

“I think it’s supposed to be a plume? For his pirate hat,” he said. “That’s not even why I chose it, here.”

Spencer reached over, and opened the book. He flipped to the page he was searching for, leaning over to scan the lines. His finger highlighted a passage, and he moved back to let her see.

“That bit right there,” he said.

Her eyes scanned the section he’d pointed out, and Cecily devolved into laughter.

“Nooooo,” she said. “That’s not how that woooorks!”

Spencer smiled as he watched her. Cecily pretended not to notice. After composing herself from all of the laughing, Cecily closed the book, and set that behind her.

“Your pick is clearly superior,” she said. “My first one wasn’t very good, which is fine, but uh, Iiiiiiiiiii had to read this, so now you have to.”

She picked up the book nearest her left knee, opened it to a specific page, and held that out for him. He took it from her, and scanned the page. Spencer’s face scrunched into a frown, which looked adorable on him.

“I…that’s…” he said. “That’s not physically possible. The human pelvis cannot…do… that .”

“Yeah, I know. It’s awful. I’m sure the plot is worse,” she said, taking the book back. “Okay, next option.”

“I got this one,” he said, holding up the middle volume.

It was blue with swirling goldenrod yellow lettering. Cecily glanced at the cover, and then turned the book over to read the blurb on the back. She peered at him over the top edge; her blue eyes questioning, unsure of the punchline.

“ Lover’s Foul ,” Spencer said. “He gives her a chicken. It’s a pun.”

Cecily sat in stunned silence for a full minute.

“Oh… my god ,” Cecily said. “That’s terrible .”

Cecily ran her hand over her face, massaging her temples.

“That’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard,” she said. “No, I refuse. I’m not reading that.”

“You don’t like puns?” he said.

“I like good puns!”

“Oh okay, so it’s fine for Shakespeare to make them, but when it comes to birds, you’d rather not? Seems like a bit of ostrich.”

Cecily made a face at his joke, and then decided to sidestep it in favor of showing offense.

“You make me sound like some literary snob. Which! I am not!”

“I’m not raven about your current opinions,” he said, with a smile. “I can’t enjoy these owl by myself, Cecily.”

“Oh my god!”

“I would like you to know that, uh, despite any misgivings you might be having right now, I have no egrets.”

“How many of these bird puns can you make?!”

“How many birds are there?”

Cecily blinked. Despite the subtle smirk still on his face, Spencer did look genuinely serious when posing that question. She decided not to test him.

“Okay, fine!” Cece said. “You win! Puns are great. But I’m still not picking your book.”

She held up her selection for the round. Spencer took it from her to read the cover.

“But only because I found a biker/mafia weird love triangle thing,” she said. “There’s totally a threeway in it and I’m morbidly excited to read that trainwreck.”

“There’s a joke about railing somewhere, but I’m too off track to make it,” Spencer said.

Cecily’s eyebrows shot up. Her eyes flicked over him for about the hundredth time that day. “Sorry, what?”

“What?” he replied, pretending not to have heard her.

Cecily smirked. He knew she had heard him. Spencer handed her the book back, and she set it aside with the other winner.

“Last round,” Reid said. “You go first.”

Cecily held up her last option. She twiddled her fingers under it in exaggerated fanfare.

“I give you…The Innocence of Griselda,” she said.

“Sounds delightful!” he said, voice dripping in sarcasm.

She laughed.

“Depends on if you like vampires corrupting virgins, I guess,” Cece said. “At least I think that’s what it’s about? Alright, what have you got?”

Reid held up his book and offered it to her.

“Page 30,” he said.

Spencer gave no other explanation. Intrigued, Cecily turned to the correct page. She read it. Then she read it again. Then she looked at him. He was watching her, which Cece was very okay with. His eyes were so pretty. Then she looked down at the page and read it for a third time. Cecily cleared her throat.

“So…where we goin for dinner?”

Spencer didn’t have a gloating face, but he did look pleased. Cecily appreciated that. Humble winner; very becoming.

“I know the perfect place,” he said. “You like burgers, right?”

“I love burgers,” she said.

“Okay, good, we can go in a second, but there’s something I want to do first. If that’s okay with you?”

“Sure. What’d you have in mind?” Cecily asked as she gathered up the three winners in her hands.

“What’s your favorite book?”

“Easy. Pride & Prejudice.”

Spencer smiled, and stood up. He retraced their steps back up the aisle. Cecily followed him. They rounded the corner, and stopped midway down the new row of shelves. He plucked a pair of books off the shelf. Cecily shot him a curious look when Spencer turned to face her holding two copies of Pride & Prejudice .

“Would you want to read this with me?” Spencer asked. “More accurately, I thought we could read it separately, but concurrently, and annotate our copies with any notes or thoughts we might have and then switch copies. I’d be interested to see what you would highlight and given that it’s your favorite, and we’ve both read it, we could go into greater detail with any notes or even point out discrepancies in the edition.”

Cecily stood in stunned silence. Was…was she dreaming? She blinked. No, no this was real. This was real . The incredibly smart, stupidly cute, deliciously nerdy man had just suggested they read the piece of literature she’d been obsessing over for literal years. And that he wanted her to dissect the text for him so he could read her thoughts and notes and reactions?! She…she didn’t have words for this. She didn’t have thoughts for this.

“ Holy shit ,” she whispered.

Cecily’s heart pounded in her chest. No one ever asked for that. No one ever wanted to crawl inside her mind and figure out what made her this way. She was pretty sure this moment was one in a billion and didn’t know what to do with that information other than become the human equivalent of a computer loading screen. Cecily managed to glance up and make eye contact with him. Spencer looked confused, and a little curious over her silence. She somehow managed to nod her head.

“I would love that,” she said.

Her voice was raw, and full of way more emotion than she intended. He gave her a reassuring smile; to let her know that she was safe with him. Cecily found herself believing it.

Spencer tucked the copies of Pride & Prejudice under his arm, and the pair went up to the register. They made their respective purchases, apologized for any disturbance they might have caused, and left the store.

“But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.”

– Madeline Miller

Chapter Text

“It's all very well to read about sorrows and imagine yourself living through them heroically, but it's not so nice when you really come to have them, is it?"

— L.M. Montgomery

“I’m only going to say this once – I need your help and you’re not allowed to tell anyone else about this,” Reid said.

Spencer slid into the chair opposite Emily Prentiss. The brunette woman’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in her usual shocked expression as she registered the man’s words.

“Wh– Uh– Reid,” she said, leaning in. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said, pulling a notepad and pen from his satchel. “I need to plan a date.”

The shocked expression changed into an amused smile. She cleared her throat.

“And you want my help?” Emily asked.

Spencer nodded. Emily took a big swig of her coffee.

“Okay, what have you got so far?” she asked.

“It needs to be Friday night.”

Emily waited for Spencer to say more words. He did not say more words. Instead, he sat there looking at her, waiting. Emily raised her eyebrows again and sighed.

“That’s a good start. I guess,” she said. “So for a first date, I like to do something I wouldn’t mind doing by myself: dinner at a new place I’ve been meaning to try out, new movie I want to go see, concert – uh symphony tickets, that kind of thing. What do you like to do for fun?”

“Statistical analysis, linguistics profiling, and complex calculus. Oh, and chess! Also, this wouldn’t be our first date.”

Emily rubbed her temples, and took another drag of coffee.

“In that case, I’m going to need more information to go off of, Reid. Who is this person? What do they like? What are your similar interests? Is there a particular objective you’re trying to achieve with this date?”

“Huh? What? Emily!”

Emily laughed. “It’s a valid question! Even if you are the biggest nerd ever.”

Spencer looked down at his hands. “I just… I just want to impress her.”

“Why not just take her out to dinner? Everyone needs to eat. It’s hard to screw that up. Not that you will screw this up! I’m just saying…”

“Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Where should we even go?” Reid asked. “How nice of a restaurant should I choose? What if she turns out to be a very picky eater, and just hates the type of food that I pick? What if the restaurant is too loud and we can’t hear each other talk? Or what if I can’t find anything to say at all? What if she gets food poisoning?”

“Reid, breathe.”

Emily placed a hand on his shoulder, and forced him to make eye contact with her. They matched breathing for a moment, until Spencer collected himself.

“Damn,” Emily said, bumping his knee. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered before. She really got under your skin, didn’t she?”

Spencer gave her a wry smile. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Emily paused, and watched him. He was looking at his hands, and picking at the edge of the notepad.

“Have you ever met someone, and everything feels so right, and you find yourself going ‘Oh, hello. There you are. I’ve missed you’ even though you haven’t known them that long?”

Spencer met her eyes then. His gaze was wide, vulnerable. She smiled, a very small expression. Then Emily shook her head to indicate a negative response to his question. He frowned.

“I didn’t think it was real, the first time, and when I got around to realizing it…it was too late. And I couldn’t save her. And now that, that I have it again I just…I don’t want to screw it up. Like I did last time. I know that this isn’t the same thing, and I know that nothing that I do now will make up for what happened, but I also know to learn from my mistakes and I’m not going to wait around again for something to happen.”

Spencer paused.

“I just don’t know how to do that!” he said, exasperated.

They sat in silence for a moment. Emily swallowed, and found her voice. Even though it was way too early to be having this conversation.

“That’s really special, Reid,” she said. “You’re right to hold onto that. If that’s how you both feel.”

Spencer rubbed his face.

“I don’t know if that’s how she feels,” he said. “I hope that’s how she feels.”

Emily shrugged. They shared a smile.

“So about that date…” she said.

“You told Emily about the date?! I thought that was our secret! I’ve been so good!” Garcia said.

Prentiss and Reid whipped their heads around to see Penelope on the other side of the cubicle. She was holding a stack of files in her hands, wearing a bright floral dress and a hurt expression. Emily looked at Reid. Spencer sighed.

“No, it wasn’t that,” he said. “I was asking her to help me plan a second date.”

“Date?” Morgan asked. “Who’s got a date?”

The now trio turned to see Agent Derek Morgan stride over to Reid’s desk and perch on the edge of it. He sipped from a cup of coffee and looked at the other three, waiting for an answer. Garcia and Emily both looked at Reid. Spencer facepalmed. He made a split second calculation, trying to determine if he could keep some pretense of discretion; however, even as he did, he knew Morgan would never buy it.

So Reid sighed and swiveled in his chair to face Morgan. He raised his hand.

“That would be me,” Spencer said.

Morgan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Okay, can everyone stop looking so surprised, please!” Reid said.

Prentiss and Morgan both laughed. Reid did his best to glare at them, but they knew he didn’t mean it.

“So what are you doing for this big date of yours?” Derek asked.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Emily said.

“I’m so happy you got a second date!” Garcia said. “I told you she was gonna fall in love with you!”

“Hold up,” Morgan said. “Baby Girl, you knew about Junior Casanova over here? And didn’t tell me? That’s cold.”

“I’m sorry! I was sworn to secrecy!” she said. “You know I would never willingly keep things from you , my chiseled god.”

Garcia moved around the cubicles to stand by Morgan. He threw an arm around her shoulder as she threw her free arm around his waist, and they gave each other a side hug. Emily rolled her eyes over the whole thing.

“Right, so, getting back on topic,” Emily said. “Reid, what does she like? Any special interests?”

“Uh, she’s an author –”

“-- A damn good one!” Garcia interjected.

Spencer acknowledged the outburst, and continued: “So she likes to write and read. Her tastes there are kind of varied, and we’ve done a lot of literature-related activities so I was trying to think of something different. She likes Doctor Who.”

“She likes Star Wars,” Garcia said.

The group of profilers all turned to her.

“I didn’t know that. How do you know that?” Reid asked.

“I follow her fanfiction account. She’s a big fan of Anidala.”

Prentiss and Morgan both looked confused. Spencer cracked a small smile, and looked down.

“Ani what now?” Morgan asked.

“Anidala,” Reid said. “It’s the fandom nickname for the relationship between Anakin Skywalker and Senator Padme Amidala.”

“Bingo, smart guy!” Garcia said. “She’s written a few fics with them. Absolutely gorgeous! There’s this one she wrote where Anakin never fell to the darkside and he and Padme got their marriage officially recognized. It’s so beautiful it literally made me cry. In that same fic, Obi-Wan is the sith lord, and god! It is soooooo –”

Garcia shuts her mouth, realizing what she was about to say the split second before the words tumbled over her lips. Everyone’s eyes were on her. She flushed.

“The ‘inappropriate use of the force tag’ is amazing and I will not be judged for liking it,” Garcia said, holding her head high. “And that’s all I’m going to say.”

Morgan and Reid both smirked, but didn’t push further. Emily, who had been typing on her phone for the majority of the interaction, looked up then and handed her phone to Reid.

“There you go,” she said. “There’s a local theater that’s having a screening of Attack of the Clones on Friday.”

Reid studied the phone for a moment.

“I really like that. It’s been a while since I’ve rewatched the prequels so it would be nice, but movies aren’t very good places to have conversations, and we tend to talk a lot,” Spencer said.

Morgan leaned over Spencer’s shoulder to glance at the phone.

“Oh, I know that theater,” he said. “There’s a great little ice cream parlor right around the corner. You could take her there after, or before, if you wanted to talk. It’s open super late.”

Reid smiled. “That’s…that’s actually not terrible.”

He glanced around at all of them.

“Thank you,” he said.

Morgan ruffled his hair. “Don’t mention it, pretty boy. You aren’t getting off the hook that easy though. I want to know everything about this girl.”

“What girl?” Rossi said.

The group all looked up to see that Rossi had now joined them. At what point, they didn’t know.

“Reid has a girlfriend,” Prentiss said, with a smile.

“Oh yeah?” Dave said, turning to Spencer.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Reid said.

“Yet!” Garcia said, correcting him.

“Must be a pretty impressive woman,” Rossi mused. “What’s she do?”

“She’s an author,” Spencer replied.

The group felt Rossi tense, as if he were preparing to defend his honor, even though no one was calling it into question. Morgan, Prentiss, and Garcia all exchanged a look, and stifled giggles.

“Not anything on crime or murder, I hope?” he asked.

Spencer shook his head. “Fiction. Romance, to be exact.”

Rossi relaxed. “Good. I like her. Keep her around.”

“You haven’t even met her!” Emily interjected.

“Don’t need to. I can just tell.”

The group all snickered, and smiled. Reid received more friendly jabs. They did all manage to notice when Hotch and JJ approached the group a few moments later.

“I’m not sure what this is about,” Hotch said. “But I’m breaking it up. I need you all in the conference room for the briefing.”

Just like that, the group dispersed. Emily sent the info about the movie to Reid, finished up a couple things at her desk and then met everyone in the conference room. Reid texted Cecily the details, and waited for Cece’s response for a couple minutes before heading up to the room. He hadn’t received anything from her by the time the plane took off, and his focus was soon swallowed up by the case.

* * *

Cecily scribbled line after line in her notebook. The words that had been stuck in her brain for months poured out of her, and it was all she could do to keep up. Despite her mind running a mile a minute, she felt good. This scene had caused her so much trouble. Two of the main character’s love interests needed to confront each other. It had been an absolute pain to figure out how to make it poetic and raw instead of an uber-toxic macho standoff. Her idea this morning was to switch out one of the characters for the other character in the love triangle (love square?) and it worked so much better! Plus, Nathaniel, the original antagonist for the scene, didn’t have a spine outside of his job so him starting a fight, even a verbal one, would’ve lifted the curtain of believability a bit too much for Cecily’s liking.

A notification on her laptop went off. She glanced at it. Video call from her agent. Cecily accepted the call. She held up her finger to the screen, but her focus returned to her writing.

“Hi yes hello, if you say a word to me before I finish l this, I will never speak to you again,” Cece said.

No sound came from her speakers. Cecily wrote the final moments of the scene. When she finished, she closed the notebook and looked back towards her laptop.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “Didn’t want the words to leave my brain. What’s up?”

Cecily’s literary agent, Zoe Walker, looked up from their phone back to their camera. Their shock of bright rainbow hair contrasted with the sleek lines of the black blazer and white dress shirt they wore today. Zoe had been with Cecily since the beginning of her crazy foray into authorship, and honestly, Cece knew she wouldn’t have made it this far without them. The two of them had spilled a lot of secrets, and done a lot of healing, and got to make some beautiful art together. She could always count on Zoe to be honest with her, and she knew how rare that was.

“Wanted to make sure you weren’t dead,” Zoe said. “Seeing as my calls and texts went unanswered.”

Cecily winced. “Sorry! My phone’s off. Had to focus.”

“Writers,” they said with a smirk. “You good now, or should I call back later?”

“I should be fine.”

“Great. My second cup of coffee hasn’t hit yet so I’m gonna skip the pleasantries. I had a very long phone call with your publisher this morning,” Zoe said.

Cecily frowned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. They don’t like the Gregory angle.”

“You’re shitting me. That’s like the whole fucking premise of the book, Zo. What the fuck do they expect me to do?”

“They don’t think it’s spicy enough. Say it’s too slow, not enough heat. They want you to focus on amping up the rivalry between Nathaniel and Jessica.”

Cecily ran a hand through her hair.

“Did they just expect Rebecca to throw herself at Gregory’s feet the second she found out he’s alive?!” Cece said. “God! The whole point was to dig into the possibility of second chances. What that looks like, how that feels, if it’s even possible, what it would take to rebuild the shattered trust. That can’t just happen !”

“Hey, I hear you! The idea for this book sold me on the whole series. I think it could be the best damn thing you’re ever written,” Zoe said. “But I’m not the one you gotta convince. And so far, they haven’t been impressed with the pages.”

“Fuck me.”

“Can’t. You’re not my type.”

That managed to pull a laugh out of Cecily. The pair shared a smile. Cecily sighed.

“Okay, I’ll get the next set of pages in by the end of the week, and see what they say then,” Cece said. “I think they’ll come around once I turn in something that’s not complete shit. And I’ll find a way to sprinkle in some more smut.”

“Brilliant. This is why I love you. Okay, now, on to the bad news.”

“That wasn’t the bad news?”

“No, no it wasn’t. You’re gonna have to do press for this book.”

Cecily felt her stomach drop, and the color drained from her face. The ensuing silence was deafening. She swallowed, and tried to pull her panic under control.

“I don’t want to,” Cece said.

“I know that, but if you don’t, there’s likely to be a very big dip in sales. Enough to jeopardize the series finale. You have a very loyal fan base, which is great, but it’s not gonna cut it with all the extensions on the release date.”

Cecily groaned.

“Look, I know this is a lot,” Zoe said. “But you need to be aware of it, and you will have to make a decision on it. Regardless of what you choose, I will always advocate for you. I am in your corner, 100%, I will beat someone up for you.”

Cecily smiled. After another moment, Zoe’s expression became sincere.

“What happened last time was a fucking nightmare,” they said. “No one is saying it wasn’t. But as your friend and as your agent, I am contractually obligated to tell you that will not happen again. Literally. He’s dead. And short of a necromancer puppeting his corpse around, I think you’re safe.”

Cece sighed. She knew they were right.

“I’ll think on it.”

“Thank you,” Zoe said.

“Anything else? I should get back to writing.”

“I saw your email about the new series, I’ll look that over, hopefully by the end of the week, and get back to you with nooooootes. Are you free Friday? Group of us are doing a board game night.”

“Thanks, but I have plans.”

Zoe rolled their eyes. “Staying at home with your cat and reading does not count as plans, Cece.”

“It does too!” she said. “But no, I have a date.”

Zoe smirked. “Oh really? With whom?”

“With a man who is most definitely out of my league.”

“No one is out of your league, babe,” Zoe shot back.

Cecily scoffed. “Thanks, but I’m being serious.”

“So was I!”

“Okay, well, you haven’t met him so you can’t tell me I’m wrong. He’ll probably get bored of me, and I’ll be crying to you about him in like a week, if I’m lucky, so it doesn’t matter if we had like the most amazing date the other day, and how I can’t stop thinking about him, or that he’s basically the hottest person I have ever met and on top of that, he like, is a bigger nerd than me, and how we can have like really deep conversations and his emotional intelligence and actual intelligence is STUPIDLY high and I am basically already in love with him.”

Cecily stopped speaking to draw breath. Zoe blinked.

“So you’re gonna be a sobbing mess if this goes poorly,” they said, deadpan.

“Yeaaaaaaaaah,” Cece said. “Pretty muuuuuuuch.”

“Welp. You’re beautiful and talented and I love you, and he can’t be all that smart if he rejects you,” Zoe said. “But just in case, I’ll stock extra ice cream and rose.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know. But I gotta go. Love ya!”

“Love you too!”

Cece waved goodbye, and Zoe ended the call. Cecily shut her laptop. She glanced down at her still open notebook and realized, with much remorse, that she would not be writing anymore today. Who could plot out fake problems when there were real life ones to solve?

She sighed, and ran her hands through her hair. She refused to think about the possibility of another press tour right now. She didn’t need to have a full blown panic attack.

But she could worry over Spencer…

Cecily retrieved her phone from where it lay discarded on the library floor. She powered on the device and waited. A wash of notifications came in, including Zoe’s unanswered calls and texts. She sent a couple emojis to them as an apology.

There were also a few texts from Spencer. She smiled as she opened his text thread. Her heart skipped a few beats, and her mouth fell open in a soft excited gasp as she read.

He wanted to go see Star Wars with her. It was too perfect. He was too perfect.

Fuck being a sobbing mess.

She was going to fall madly in love with Dr. Spencer Reid, and he would just have to be okay with that.

This was happening.

And she knew exactly what she’d wear to their second date.

* * *

Reid called her the moment the case wrapped and he could break away from the group. He would’ve called on the car ride to the airport if his entire team hadn’t been within earshot. His fingers drummed on his leg as he waited for her to answer. She picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hey you,” Cece said.

“Hi,” he said.

Reid tried not to notice how his heart fluttered at the sound of her voice.

“I wanted to make sure we’re still on for our date tomorrow?” Spencer said. “I didn’t really check my phone all that much during the case.”

“I’ve been busy so I honestly didn’t even notice. But yes. Yes, we’re…we’re good.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. There was a moment of silence between them.

“I’m really excited to see you again,” she said.

Spencer’s heart melted .

“Really?” he asked, his voice an echo.

“Mmhm,” Cecily murmured.

“I’m excited to see you too.”

“You sure? I’m kind of a crazy Star Wars fan. You have no idea what this is going to unleash in me. I’ll never shut up after this.”

Spencer smiled. “I think I’m good, thanks.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Half a thought popped into his head; how it didn’t matter because he wanted to know everything about her. How he wanted to listen to her talk forever. But he didn’t voice the thought.

“I’d love to talk some more,” Cece said. “But I’m on a deadline right now…”

“Oh. Okay,” he said. “Sorry! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Spencer hung up the phone. He finished his paperwork, and headed back to his apartment, grateful that most of the time between now and when he saw Cece would be spent on sleeping.

Friday morning came, and found Spencer full of anticipation. He knew the exact amount of time that stood between him and his date. It was all he could do to prevent himself from staring at a clock until its face told him he could leave. He completed his post-case ritual: breakfast, shower, repack go-bag, laundry. Then he moved on to a little bit of remaining casework. It wasn’t much. Writeups, and cursory profiling. That was all finished by lunch.

While he ate lunch, Spencer cracked open his copy of Pride & Prejudice. He forced himself not to read it too often, otherwise he’d drastically out-pace Cece. So he’d read a few chapters, bit by bit, and write down his thoughts in the margins. Today he read through Darcy’s first proposal. His notes were as follows:

The Darcy Marriage Proposal Guide:

• Claim this would be a horrible mistake

• Thoroughly point out any discrepancies in class and social standing

• Admit this defies reason

• Did I mention you’re poor and I’m not?

• Entreat an acceptance to alleviate your own struggles

He also scribbled down a couple of facts about marriage customs of the time, and how modern marriages are actually legal and financial transactions at their core. Spencer smiled to himself as he finished up the chapter and put the book away. He spent the rest of the afternoon rearranging his bookshelves and glancing at his wrist watch.

People were already milling about the theater when he arrived. There were several fans in full costume. Most notably, he saw someone dressed like JarJar Binks, another in full Darth Maul makeup, and another cosplaying the cartoon version of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The majority of the crowd was dressed similar to himself; casual clothes, old Star Wars t-shirt, maybe another fandom accessory.

Reid bought the tickets and waited outside under the marquee. He studied the crowd, analyzing movements and behavior. Spencer became so focused that he didn’t notice Cece walk up behind him.

“Hello there,” she said in her best Kenobi impression.

Spencer smiled when he recognized her voice, and turned around. His heart stopped at the sight of her. Cecily looked resplendent . She wore a replica of Padme’s picnic dress from the movie they were about to go see. Intricate rose embroidery decorated the bodice that hugged her curves. The silky capelet, embroidered with the same rosy pattern, sloped down her upper arms and dipped behind her with graceful movement. The thin straps left her shoulders and most of her upper chest bare. The skirt of the dress was a dusty yellow color, lighter than the bodice, and was covered in delicate sparkles that made it look like stars danced around her. She even had the pink and green pastel ribbons tied around her hands and wrapping up her arms.

Cece’s hair mimicked the kinky curls of the character. A flower crown of dark pink rosebuds encircled her head. It held most of her hair back, save for two crinkled strands that framed her face.

Spencer stood before her, speechless. She looked like she had just stepped out of the Naboo countryside and onto the street next to him. There weren’t words for that. Not good ones, anyway. Not ones that were worthy enough to be said to her.

“ Wow ,” he breathed.

Cece’s face fell.

“You hate it,” she said. “Fuck! I knew it was too much!”

The look of disappointment in her eyes shattered his soul. But before Spencer could begin to even think about telling her how absolutely wrong she was, Cece kept talking.

“I’m sorry. I have normal clothes in my car, I’ll go change.”

She turned to leave right as he found his voice.

“ No ,” he begged. “Please… please stay .”

Cece stopped. She turned back around to face him. Her steps were hesitant. Cecily glanced up and met his eyes, and waited for him to continue speaking.

Spencer’s heart twisted again. Fuck, how was she this gorgeous? How had he screwed this up already?!

“That…that… I wasn’t upset,” he stammered. “You caught me off guard! I…I just…”

Spencer twisted his hands together, trying to calm himself. He looked down.

“I-I won’t need an eidetic memory to recall how perfect you look right now,” he whispered.

Spencer scrunched his eyes shut. That had sounded so much better in his head. She didn’t say anything for a minute. Great job, Spencer! You ruined it.

Cecily hooked a finger under his chin and tilted his face towards her. His eyes snapped open. Her expression was happy again, complete with a Mona Lisa smile. Spencer felt his mouth go dry.

“So you like it?” Cece asked.

Her smile took on a dangerous edge, and her eyes smoldered. It was all Spencer could do to nod.

“ Very much ,” he whispered.

She beamed. Then Cece dropped her hand away from his face. He was sad to lose the contact, but it did make breathing easier. Spencer shook his head, attempting to refocus himself.

“You got the tickets?” she asked.

He held up the slips of paper.

“Excellent!” Cecily said. “Shall we?”

Spencer swept an arm out in front of them, bidding her to move. She smiled, and headed towards the entrance. He trailed close behind her.

It was louder inside; the big lobby buzzing with the noise of a crowd. Cecily wanted snacks. So they hopped into the concessions line.

“I know you can make popcorn at home,” she said. “But it doesn’t taste the same!”

“Probably because of the chemicals,” he said.

Cecily made a face at him, and Spencer smiled.

“Whatever,” she said. “It’s delicious, and I deserve it because I’ve had a stressful week.”

That got his attention. Spencer focused on Cecily, his eyes scanning her body. He noticed the circles under her eyes. The slight frown whenever she thought no one was looking. How she popped her knuckles in frustration and anxiety.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” he asked.

She glanced at him, and their eyes met. More of her mask slipped, and he saw how exhausted and fragile she looked. Feelings he knew all too well.

“A lot,” Cecily said. “Stuff from work, mostly.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Tears pooled in her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I’d like that. But…not now, okay? Right now, I just wanna have a good time with you.”

Spencer nodded. They broke eye contact, and Cecily ducked her head to wipe away any stray tears before they ruined her makeup. Spencer hesitated for a second, and then reached over to take her hand. Her skin was soft, warm. He found his brain fixated on the sensation, memorizing the curve of her palm and speculating about the cause of each and every callus. As if he’d be tested later on the biological structure of her skin. Her hand looked so tiny compared to his. He glanced up and met her eyes again.

“Sorry,” Spencer said. “I hope this is okay. I should’ve asked.”

Cecily smiled. Well, smiled wider than she had been a second before.

“It’s very okay,” she said. “Honestly, I would’ve taken your hand sooner, but I thought it’d be rude after my dress kinda broke you.”

Spencer laughed. It was their turn in line, so the pair stepped forward and ordered their food. As they waited for the popcorn, Cecily opened the bag of gummy bears, and they started eating that.

“Did you know that gummy bears actually originated in Germany?” Reid said.

“Really?” Cece said.

Spencer nodded. “Gummibaren. They were created in 1922 by Hans Riegel. He was inspired to make the first iteration of the candy after seeing dancing bears perform at a street festival. He later founded the sweets company known now as Haribo, which is actually an acronym. It’s the first two letters of his first and last name. The last two letters are for the city he grew up in: Bonn.”

“No shit? That’s cool,” Cecily said, as they got their popcorn and stepped out of the line. “But do you know the proper way to eat gummy bears?”

Spencer tilted his head, and his brow furrowed in a quizzical expression.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “You just eat them.”

He popped one of the candy bears into his mouth. Cecily gasped in mock horror.

“No no no no,” she said. “This will not do. Come on, let me educate you.”

Cecily dug through the lump of gummy bears until she found a red one and a yellow one. She handed the red one to Spencer, and kept the yellow for herself. She held up the bear between two fingers so he could see it.

“Now,” Cece said. “Pay attention. This must be very precise. The correct way to eat a gummy bear is like so…”

Cece bit the head off of the bear. She held up the headless body like a trophy.

“You always have to bite the head off first,” she said.

Spencer looked horrified.

“I’m not biting its head off!” he said.

“It’s the only way to ensure they have a quick and humane death!”

“Decapitation is not humane! It takes anywhere between 4000 to 8000 newtons to sever the head from the spinal column. Which is a great deal more than what the average human is capable of on a given day.”

“Since when are you average, Spencer ?” Cecily teased. “Besides, I’m the teacher here, and I say you have to or I will fail you.”

Spencer huffed for a moment. He hadn’t failed anything in his life. Except for PE in 10th grade, but that didn’t count because he was eleven. After another moment of deliberating, Spencer bit the head off of the bear. Cecily golf clapped for him.

“ Excellent ,” she said. “Welcome to the dark side.”

She bit into another bear as he laughed. Cecily took his hand again, and they walked around the lobby admiring the crowd. Cece made it her mission to score a photo with the JarJar cosplayer. Reid managed to track him down in the hallway outside the theater. His name was Steve. He was cool. Spencer watched her anxiety ease the longer they were together. He did have to force her to drink some water though.

A few of their fellow fans flagged Cecily down for pictures or to compliment her cosplay. Several of the Anakin cosplayers came up to her at various points. They traded banter, and took photos. Spencer watched, holding their snacks, and even took a couple of the pictures. He loved it. She looked so beautiful. And yeah, okay, he liked it whenever Cecily stepped back towards him after meeting someone and took his hand again.

Every.

Single.

Time.

It was simple. Probably insignificant to her. But it was so reassuring amid the crowd. It was almost instinctual after a point. Like he belonged next to her. Like they’d been doing this all their lives. And she reaffirmed it every time she took his hand. Their fingers intertwined, and they picked up their thread of conversation as if it hadn’t been interrupted.

“I really wish you would’ve told me you were dressing up,” Reid said. “I would’ve thrown together a costume.”

Cecily scrunched her face in embarrassment. “I was scared you’d think it was weird! And I didn’t want to be talked out of it. I needed an excuse to wear this dress again. It hasn’t seen the light of day since the convention I made it for.”

“Oh what convention?” Spencer asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Star Wars Celebration. I went…a few years ago. It was my one big thing I did for myself after the first trio of Stars Crossed . It’d been my dream to go since I’d learned of its existence. It was absolutely surreal.”

“That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to go, but with my job I’ve never been able to make it.”

“Do you wanna see pictures?”

Spencer nodded. Cecily got out her phone, and searched through the files till she found the photos from the convention. She scrolled through the pictures as she told him about everything. He liked the way her eyes lit up when she got excited.

“There’s a typo,” Spencer said, pointing to a sign in the background of one of the pictures. “It should be ‘I have the high ground’ but they wrote ‘I’ve got the high ground.’”

Cecily glanced at him. “You can read that?”

Spencer nodded. “I’m fluent in Aurebesh. Though, I don’t know if fluent is the correct term since it’s a written script and not actually spoken as anything other than American English.”

Cecily blinked. “I’m sorry, what? You can read and write in Aurebesh? That’s like the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Spencer blushed. Cecily put her phone away, and pulled out a small notebook with a tiny pen attached. She shoved them at him.

“Write me something,” she said.

Spencer took the notebook with a smirk. He jotted a short message down on an empty page, and then held it out to her. Cecily took the notebook and observed the clean lines and dark characters of the fictional script. She looked over the edge of the page at him.

“What does it say?” she asked.

His smile widened.

“I’m not telling you,” he said.

Cecily made an indignant sound.

“You asked me to write it. You didn’t ask me to translate it.”

Cecily shot him a look. Spencer glanced at his watch.

“Movie’s starting soon,” he said. “We should probably get to our seats.”

They got a refill on their popcorn, and headed to the theater. They found their seats as the opening trailers started playing. Cecily put up the arm rest between their seats so they could sit close together. She kept hold of his hand.

Cecily liked to quote along with the movie. Which meant they spent the next two hours and thirty three minutes leaning over and whispering their own versions of the iconic scenes playing out on the giant screen before them. She made adorable lightsaber noises. She laughed over his Mace Windu impression. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he was just doing his best to channel Hotch.

* * *

Cecily tossed the popcorn bucket in the garbage can on their way out of the theater. She returned to Spencer’s side and took his hand again. She liked holding his hand. His fingers were so long, and his palm was so big. It made this feel real. Helped convince her that this was in fact her actual life, and not something she’d written. The pair headed towards the lobby.

“Who’s your favorite Star Wars character?” Cece asked.

“Padme,” Spencer said without missing a beat.

Cecily’s eyebrows shot up. “You serious?”

Spencer stopped walking to face her. “Padme Amidala ran for political office, and was elected queen at the age of 16, and was so good at it, the people of Naboo wanted to change their laws so she could stay in office longer. Darth Sidious himself found her influence so detrimental to his plans that he tried to have her assassinated on no less than 3 separate occasions through cannon. Without her, none of Star Wars would have happened. She is the literal embodiment of the goodness, justice, peace, and hope that she fought tirelessly to bring to an entire system of galaxies. Yes, I’m serious.”

“I didn’t mean that as an insult! I love Padme.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Cece laughed. “I was just wondering if you wanted to get a photo together since I happened to dress up as your favorite character…?”

“Oh.” Spencer shuffled his weight on his feet for a moment. “Yes. That…that would be nice.”

Cecily glanced around, but couldn’t find a suitable spot in the lobby for a photo op. She led him outside. She found the poster for Attack of the Clones and situated them in front of it.

“Give me your phone,” Cecily said, holding out her hand.

Spencer unlocked the device and placed it in her open palm. She took the phone, opened the camera, and prepared to take a selfie. The glow of the twinkling marquee lights bathed them in a wash of soft light. It wasn’t until after she’d snapped a couple pictures when Cece noticed the way Spencer looked at her. His focus was entirely on her. Hadn’t even registered the photos. It was like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Cecily glanced over her shoulder to meet his eyes. She handed him his phone back. He took it and placed it in his pocket without ever taking his eyes off her. Cecily wanted to kiss him. She wanted to throw him up against the wall behind them, and make him forget how to breathe. She wanted to feel worthy of the sheer fucking devotion shining in his hazel eyes, even though there was a very real part of her that whispered she never could be.

Neither one of them moved.

They just kept staring at each other.

She felt her heart pounding, and heard the slight hitch in her breath as her eyes trailed down Spencer’s face to rest on his lips.

“Excuse me? Would you mind moving so we can take a photo?” a voice said, cutting through her thoughts.

Cecily blinked, and looked towards the sound of the voice. A group of teenagers, all sporting multicolored mini-lightsaber necklaces, stood in front of them. The designated speaker, a lanky girl with blond hair done up in braided buns, waited for Cece to answer.

“Oh my god, no, we were just leaving,” Cecily said. “Sorry!”

Cecily stepped out of the way, and pulled Spencer after her.

“Thanks!” the girl said. “By the way, I love your dress!”

“I love your hair!”

The girl smiled, and the group huddled around the poster to take a picture. Cecily and Spencer stepped forward, out from under the marquee, to stand at the curb.

“Sooo…” Cecily said, her toe picking at the concrete. “What now?”

“Now, we’re going to go get ice cream so you can tell me about what’s stressing you out,” he said.

Cecily smiled. “Right. Okay. Um, do you mind if I run back to my car and change real fast? I love this thing, but the bodice is kinda making me uncomfortable.”

Spencer nodded. “I’ll wait here.”

Cecily rushed off to go change. It didn’t take long before she was standing in front of the theater again, this time in comfy black athletic shorts, a cropped Star Wars tank, and an R2-D2 bomber jacket. Spencer offered up his hand, which she took, and the pair strolled off down the street.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Cecily took a deep breath, and let it go. This was gonna suck. But, if she wanted a relationship with this man, which she so desperately did, all this shit would come out eventually. No point in hiding anything. She could do this. Start with the easy stuff, work up to the lingering consequences of her questionable life decisions.

“Do you care about spoilers for the next Stars Crossed book?” Cecily asked.

“No, not at all! Honestly, I’m interested in your writing process as a whole so the more you want to talk about it, the better.”

“Well, um, short version: my publisher doesn’t really like that I’m bringing Gregory back.”

“And the long version?”

Cece sighed again. She started to go into detail over her conversation with Zoe earlier in the week, and the pages she’d been laboring over. She went into her plans for the book, in excruciating detail, and what she was trying to accomplish. Then she tied it all in to the whole series, and the plans she had for the last book. He listened, asked a cursory question every so often, and nodded along. By the time she came to the end of her spiel on Stars Crossed , they were eating their ice cream on a bench outside the shope.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Cecily said. “On one hand, I could say fuck it, and write whatever book I want to write, but if it doesn’t turn out great than that could tank the conclusion of the whole series. And that feels like it would be a letdown to all of my fans, ya know? They’ve gotten me this far and for the ending to just be…bleh doesn’t seem right. But I’m not going to just cave and do what the publisher wants because that would make a terrible book. And on top of all that, Zoe said I’m probably going to have to do a press tour for this book. Which is…its own level of hell.”

“What’s wrong with press?” Reid asked. “Do you not like traveling?”

“It's not the traveling,” she said.

Cecily looked down at her ice cream, and mashed the spoon around in the cup.

“It’s um…on my last press tour…my abusive ex-husband assaulted me.”

The woman looked up from her ice cream after an excruciating length of silence passed between them. Spencer’s eyes were wide. She couldn’t tell if it was shock or heartbreak on his face.

“You were married?” he asked.

His voice was soft, tepid. Cecily swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away again.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I was. It’s not a very pretty story. Tragic, really, if I had to find a word for it. I grew up in a very religious family. Half a step away from being a cult. Got married when I was 17. Because that’s what they wanted me to do. It was fine at first, but it didn’t take long for him to… It wasn’t like he beat me or anything but, it…it was bad. I was really unhappy. And I didn’t have any semblance of a support system because everyone around me was telling me it was my fault, and I could fix it if I tried harder.”

Cecily brushed away a few stray tears.

“How long?” Spencer asked.

“Four years,” she said. “It didn’t even end well. He divorced me . Which was such an insane blow to my ego, and not something I should still fixate on. Anyways, long story short, I got out. Changed my name. Moved. Started my career as an author. And then like a waking nightmare, he showed back up and tried to lay claim to all of it.”

She felt Spencer remove the ice cream cup from her fingers, and set it aside. He moved closer, and took both of her hands in his. She still couldn’t bear to look at him. Cecily squeezed his hands as she shut her eyes tight.

“He came to one of my book signings. Made a huge scene. Threatened me. Tried to hit me. Luckily, he was dragged out before he could, but he retaliated by stalking me for the rest of the tour.

It was like my whole world came crashing down around me, ya know? The second I saw him. All the work I had done, all the hours I’d spent on myself, all the years of…. It was like none of it mattered at all. I was just scared.”

“Where is he now?”

“Six feet under. Died in a car crash about a year ago.”

Spencer let out a breath. A few seconds later, Cecily felt his hand on her cheek, and followed the prompt from his fingers to turn towards him. She looked into his eyes as he held her face close to his. Her hand reached up to latch a few fingers around his wrist.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered.

Tears spilled over. His thumb grazed over her cheek as he swept the tears away.

“I know…I know that’s only a part of what you're going through right now, and it probably doesn’t mean much, but —“

Spencer’s voice caught in his throat.

“I’m really glad you’re safe.”

Cecily choked back a few more tears. She didn’t respond right away.

“It means a lot, actually,” Cece whispered.

They sat in the silence of their moment as Cecily cried. He brushed away her tears like he’d been doing it all his life. Spencer leaned his forehead against hers in gentle reassurance until she calmed down.

“Whatever choice you make,” Spencer whispered to her. “It’s yours. He can’t take anything else away from you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Cecily took a few deep breaths, and then leaned away from him. Spencer handed back her ice cream, and they started eating their somewhat melted treats again.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Cece said. “Most people react poorly when I tell them I was a child bride in a cult.”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You should see how they react when you tell them the first person you ever loved died in your arms.”

Cecily’s eyes widened. He gave her a half smile, and shrugged.

“I’m no stranger to tragedy, Cece,” Spencer said. “And not just because of my job.”

Cecily sat with that new information for a moment. She studied him in silence.

“Who were they?” Cecily asked.

“Her name was Maeve. She was brilliant . We wrote letters, talked on the phone for hours. Fell in love over long conversations about literature, and science. It was the kind of thing that could’ve lasted a lifetime.”

Spencer took a bite of ice cream and swallowed it down before continuing.

“She was dealing with a dangerously obsessive stalker when our paths crossed. I knew that, and I still pushed her to… It ended with the stalker shooting her in front of me. I couldn’t do anything, except stand there and watch her die. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t smart enough. I wasn’t… I couldn’t save her. So just like that, a lifetime dissolved into only 2,412 hours.”

Spencer sighed, and looked over at Cecily. Her expression was soft, sincere.

“She sounds like she was pretty incredible,” Cecily said.

“She was. But, at the end of the day, she’s gone. And I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Spencer smiled a very small smile. After another moment, he spoke again.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t know how to do this,” Spencer said. “I never even got to hold Maeve’s hand.”

“At least you got to fall in love.”

They finished their ice creams in silence, and Cecily tossed the containers in the garbage can. Then she faced Spencer on the bench, tucking her legs up underneath herself.

“Okay,” Cece said. “I have an odd question.”

Spencer quirked an eyebrow.

“Do you have something that’s like…on your romantic bucket list, as it were? Like if your…significant other…person…crush… were to do this then it would like heal your soul?”

Spencer blinked in confusion. Cecily kept talking.

“So, for me, I’ve always wanted a scene in the rain. Ya know, the ridiculous, over the top, clothes and hair all soaked, dramatic love confession or spectacular kiss or souls-bared fight in the pouring rain. Ya know, one of those? I’ve always wanted one of those.”

Spencer thought about it for a moment. He looked adorable when he was lost in thought.

“It’s stupid,” he said.

“It’s not stupid,” Cecily insisted. “What is it?”

He looked at her for a long moment, debating whether to share his thoughts. Her eyes begged him not to keep this secret from her.

“Centennial Park,” Spencer said. “I want to have a picnic under the old oak tree in the back righthand corner of the garden, on a sunny afternoon, and eat tiny sandwiches, and drink tea, and read poetry out loud.”

Spencer’s face flushed bright pink up to his ears, and he buried his face in his hands to avoid looking at her. Cece, however, calmly got out her phone and opened her calendar. She clicked open the following weekend’s Sunday, and held out the phone to him.

“You free then?” Cecily asked.

Spencer peaked through his fingers to look at the phone. Then he lowered his hands from his face.

“Yeeeees,” he said. “Unless I have a case.”

Cecily punched a note on her calendar and then put her phone away. She took his hand, and made sure he was looking at her. Cecily cleared her throat.

“Dr. Reid,” she said. Then, after making a face at how that sounded: “Spencer…would you do me the absolute honor of having a picnic with me next Sunday? Barring work, of course. You do save lives and that can’t be rescheduled; this can.”

Spencer looked down.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“I don’t have to do anything,” Cece said. “I want to do this. For you. With you .”

Spencer met her eyes again.

“What do you say?” she asked.

Spencer nodded. Cecily pumped her fist.

“ Yes ,” she said. “This is gonna be great.”

“Promise?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Oh you bet your sweet ass, I promise.”

Spencer smiled. After a few more minutes, the pair decided to head back.

Cecily drove him home. They talked more about Star Wars, and plans for the picnic. When they got to Reid’s apartment, Cecily insisted on walking him to his door. They held hands the whole way.

“We’re dressing up for the picnic, right?” Cece asked.

“I am,” he said.

Spencer turned the corner, and let go of her hand so he could unlock his apartment door. After doing so, Spencer turned back around to face her. Cecily stepped close to him.

“To say that I had the best time tonight would be a gross understatement,” Cecily said. “And I know how much you crave accurate data.”

Spencer laughed. He leaned closer to her.

“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

He acknowledged her gratitude with a tilt of his head. Neither one of them spoke for a moment.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” he whispered.

He was looking at her that way again. Devotion and longing swimming in his eyes. Cecily decided she didn’t care if she was worthy of it or not. She swallowed the lump in her throat and licked her lips.

“Spence?” Cecily breathed.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Spencer nodded. Cecily closed the gap between them in an instant. One of her hands reached up to rest on his chest, and the other caressed his face and brought it close to hers. She vaguely registered his hands slipping around her hips.

Their lips brushed. Gentle, light, quick. And then the kiss deepened. Not desperate, not sloppy. Sweet. New. Each flick of their tongues deliberate and intentional.

As their lips pressed against each other, both of them couldn’t suppress a smile. When Cece eventually pulled away, they were both grinning like idiots.

Spencer rested his forehead against hers.

“I’m glad I won’t forget you,” he whispered.

Cecily’s heart melted .

“Really?” she whispered.

“ Yes .”

Cecily smiled, and kissed him again. This time she didn’t hesitate. She kissed him long and hard. When she finally released his lips from hers, she felt the delicate pinch of his hands as he gripped her waist. Spencer drew his face close and nudged her, urging her to come back. So Cecily stayed close, and locked her lips around his again. Over and over and over. Smooth and hot. Growing more desperate by the second.

There was a part of her that never wanted this to stop; that knew if she said a word, he’d open the door and pull her in after him. But there was also part of her that whispered there would be time for that.

Not now.

Not yet.

This was too fragile to fuck up.

So she broke away. His hands were still bunched at her waist. Her hands were full of fistfulls of his hair. Cece stood with him for a moment, and then let go of him completely.

“I’ll see you,” she said.

And left him breathless on his doorstep.

“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”

— Pablo Neruda

Chapter Text

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

— Emily Brontë

Spencer walked into the BAU the next morning to find Penelope standing at his desk. She had a Tupperware full of muffins in her hands.

“I stress baked,” Garcia said at his questioning look. “So if your date went really well these are ‘congratulations’ muffins. But if it went poorly these are ‘I still love you and you deserve the best’ muffins.”

She popped open the lid, and held out the container. Spencer didn’t respond and took his time setting his bag down on his chair. She watched him, her anxiety increasing. He walked over next to her to lean on his desktop. Then he took a muffin from the container.

“Thanks,” he said.

Penelope stared at him. He looked back with a completely straight face as he bit into the muffin.

“These are really good,” he said.

Penelope slammed the Tupperware down on his desk.

“Aren’t you going to talk to me about this?!” she said.

“I would,” Spencer said. “But I don’t kiss and tell.”

He couldn’t maintain his poker face, and a wide, happy smile broke through his features. Garcia gasped.

“You sneaky jerk!” she said. “You had me worried!”

“Sorry,” he said. “Couldn’t resist.”

Spencer grabbed a notepad and pen off his desk. He headed towards the conference room. Garcia took the muffin container and followed.

“So everything’s good? You had a good time?” Penelope asked.

“Garcia, she dressed up as Padmé.”

Spencer held out his phone to her so she could see a picture of Cecily from the night before. Garcia glanced at it and then up at Spencer.

“Oh you poor, sweet, sorry sucker,” Garcia said. “You never stood a chance.”

“It was perfect,” Spencer said. “The movie was great, and afterwards we walked to get ice cream, and talked about our pasts and I got to tell her about Maeve and then she drove me home and walked me to my door and kissed me goodnight and I…”

Reid stopped.

“Why’re you making that face?” he said.

“What face? I’m making a face?” Garcia said. 

Spencer nodded.

“Sorry, you just…” she said. “You look so happy.”

Reid looked down, suddenly very self-conscious. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I am happy,” he mumbled.

Penelope beamed, and put her hand on his arm for a moment.

“Good,” she said. “You deserve it.”

Just then JJ strolled up to the conference room. She stopped when she saw the pair.

“Oh,” JJ said. “Am I interrupting something?”

Garcia glanced at Reid. Spencer looked up at JJ.

“No,” he said without missing a beat. “We were just talking about our evenings.”

“Muffin?” Garcia offered.

JJ took one of the muffins. The trio entered the conference room and sat down around the circular table to wait for the rest of the team. As Hotch and Morgan arrived, Reid’s phone went off. He glanced at it to see a text from Garcia.

LCARS: Why aren’t we telling JJ?

The Doctor: I’m not having that conversation until I figure things out with Cece

LCARS: I thought you and J were good?

The Doctor: We are

The Doctor: But that doesn’t mean I want to be heartbroken around her. Again.

LCARS: If you and Cece don’t end up together, I won’t believe in love anymore

The Doctor: That is a huge and unrealistic expectation to put on a relationship you have no control over

LCARS: Trust in my shipping powers or leave me to my delusions!!!

The Doctor: *gif of someone exiting a room*

Spencer put his phone away as all of the team assembled. One last text from Penelope came through.

LCARS: Wait, should I have not told Hotch?

* * *

Cecily called Zoe over video chat and waited for her bestie to pick up. After a few terribly long seconds, Zoe’s rainbow hair popped up on her screen. They were in their kitchen, cooking.

“Okay, so, I need your opinion on this dress,” Cecily said.

Zoe stopped stirring the pots on the stove to lean on the counter in front of their computer. When she had their full attention, Cecily propped up her phone on the vanity and backed up.

The dress in question was icy blue in color and looked like it was made up of layers of tulle. It was covered in a design of small yellow, purple, and pink wildflowers. The skirt stopped at her shins, and responded ever so perfectly when she moved. The sleeves were sheer and billowed around her wrists. They stopped at her upper arm. Her neck, shoulders, and upper chest lay bare.

Cecily held her arms out to show off the skirt.

“Well?” she asked. “I was going for ‘summer fae goes to tea.’ But I’d also accept ‘garden party in a period film but slutty.’”

Zoe, who was properly gobsmacked by their friend, closed their mouth.

“You…look…stunning,” they said. “That…yes. Absolutely. Good call.”

Cecily smiled and retrieved her phone off the dresser to continue the call.

“You sure?” she asked. “It’s not like too blue? Or too frilly?”

“The blue makes your eyes pop,” Zoe said. “And I think it matches your femme energy.”

After a moment, Zoe added:

“‘Were I unwed, I would take you in a manly fashion.’”

“‘Because I’m pretty?’” Cece asked

“‘Because you’re pretty.’”

Cecily giggled over the reference.

“Okay, good, cause the date’s tomorrow and I don’t have time to find another outfit so you just saved me the hassle of burning my entire wardrobe.”

Zoe scoffed.

“Is this for that guy?” they said.

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe…” Cece said.

Zoe rolled their eyes.

“Wow,” they said.

Cecily’s expression darkened. “What?”

“Didn’t realize we were committing to the potential heartbreak so thoroughly.”

“I wasn’t gonna!” she said. “And then I kissed him.”

Zoe laughed. “Oh my god!”

“I mean that’s not the only thing! But god, Zoe, the tongue on this man…”

Cecily closed her eyes as the delicious memory of kissing Reid floated forward from her subconscious.

Zoe laughed some more. “You slut. I say lovingly.”

“Okay, no, enough of this condescension. Go google Doctor Spencer Reid. Do it. Right now.”

Zoe pulled out their phone and did as they were instructed.

“Holy shit !” Zoe said after five seconds of reading.

“I know!”

“ This is the guy?!”

“Uh huh.”

“And he’s cute?”

“ So cute ,” Cecily whined.

Zoe looked up from their phone back to their friend and then back and forth again.

“That’s the dress?” they said.

“Yes.”

“Show me the back.”

Cecily set her phone down again and did a slow twirl for the camera. The back of the dress was low and exposed most of her shoulder blades. After turning, she picked her phone back up again.

“Yeah, if you don’t own him within two seconds of him seeing you in that, I am no judge of beauty,” Zoe said. “And you’ve seen my partners.”

Cecily smiled and did a little twirl over the compliment. A notification popped up on her phone. She glanced at it and her heart started pounding.

“Hey, I gotta go,” she told Zoe. “He’s calling me. Thank you for your help.”

“Love you!”

“Love you too!”

Zoe clicked off, and Cece answered Reid’s call.

“Sooooo my outfit for tomorrow came in and, not to sound prideful or anything, I look real good,” Cece said for way of intro.

Spencer sighed. “You always look good. I suppose I am biased as I haven’t been around you long enough to have collected any evidence to the contrary, but it’s a solid hypothesis.”

“Is that just genius-speak for you telling me I’m pretty?”

“That’s an oversimplification. But yes, you’re beautiful.”

Cece smiled. And then she heard Reid sigh again.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“I’m currently stuck in Atlanta hunting down a serial killer instead of home counting down the hours until I see you again.”

“Oh no,” Cecily said. “I thought you caught the guy.”

“It’s a long story and not one worth reading. I will spare you the details, but safe to say, I won’t be back before tomorrow so I have to cancel our date.”

He sounded crushed and exhausted.

“ Reschedule ,” she said, her voice gentle. “We’re going to reschedule our date.”

Spencer didn’t say anything so Cecily continued:

“Do you know when you’ll be back?” she asked.

“I honestly don’t,” he said.

She frowned.

“Cecily, I’m really sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, I promise. I knew this was a possibility. And I checked the forecast earlier this morning and there’s a chance it could have been cloudy anyways. Really, Spence, it’s alright.”

She hoped her words helped. A few seconds passed, and then she heard him speak again.

“Do you want to reschedule for next Sunday?” he asked.

“That works for me,” she said.

“Okay, I have to go. The team needs me.”

“Let me know when you get back?”

“I will.”

“Be safe.”

The call ended. Cecily took off her dress and put it back in the closet.

* * *

The team touched down in Virginia on Monday evening. Everyone rushed home almost immediately, as Hotch informed them they’d all be due back tomorrow morning. Reid texted Cecily to let her know the case wrapped. She called right as he stepped into his apartment.

“Can you do some math for me?” Cecily asked.

“Sure, what’s the problem?” Reid said.

“If Cecily Duke saw Dr. Spencer Reid a week from this past Friday, and is not scheduled to see him again until this following Sunday, how much time does she have to wait before seeing him again?”

“Fifteen days, 11 hours, and 30 minutes,” he said without hesitation.

“Fuck that was fast.”

“I’ve already solved that problem.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Spencer decided to keep talking.

“Ya know, some problems have a tendency to create other problems, and in this case, I was left wondering if there was anything I could do to shorten that 15 day, 11 hour, and 30 minute wait.”

Cecily sighed. “Me too. But, I am slammed this week. And you’ll have work. So…”

Spencer sighed. He ran a hand through his hair.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d suggest we go out tonight,” she joked.

“Yeah. I just got back. Being anywhere in public right now would be a sensory nightmare.”

“Fuck.”

Yeah, that…that about summed it up. Spencer sat down on his couch, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What if we didn’t go out?” Cecily asked. “I haven’t eaten yet. You could come over and I could order food in, and we could like watch Dr. Who or something.”

“You would want to do that?” he asked.

“Absolutely. As long as you don’t mind my house being a mess. Or seeing me in my pajamas.”

“It would’ve happened eventually. I’ll need about an hour or so, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll text you the address. I’m in the mood for Chinese food. Let me know your order.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Reid showered, and changed into comfortable clothes before heading out again. He stood in front of Cecily’s house about an hour later.

She lived in a cottage. Had a chimney and everything. It was adorable. There was a picket fence around the front lawn, and a cobblestone path leading to the door. He stood outside the fence for a moment, admiring the structure in the waning light of dusk. It was picturesque, peaceful. The surrounding trees stood out in black relief against the sunset. Fireflies speckled the lawn with bright dots of flickering gold as the honey-warm spill of interior lights cast familiar shadows.

The food delivery person arrived right as Reid was walking up the path so he intercepted the dinner and brought it up to save them a trip. He rang the doorbell and waited, bags of food dangling from his long fingers. A sense of calm purposefulness washed over him as he stood there, and something inside him whispered this was only the beginning.

Cecily threw the door open wide and froze. She was cocooned in a dark grey blanket. Her hair was frizzy, and her eyes were wide. Spencer smiled at the sight.

“I thought you were Chinese food,” she said.

“No, I’m Spencer,” he said. “But, uh, I do have Chinese food.”

Spencer held up the bags. Cecily rolled her eyes. She stepped aside and let him in. She closed the door after him.

“I just meant…if I knew it had been you, I would’ve…I dunno…not looked like a blanket gremlin?” Cecily said, taking the blanket down off her head and trying to smooth her hair.

They stepped into the living room, and Spencer set the food down on the coffee table. He turned to look at her.

“I like blanket gremlins,” Spencer said with a shrug.

Cecily smiled and stepped towards him.

“Do you like it when they give you hugs?” she asked, looking at the floor.

“I don’t think one has ever given me a proper hug, but I imagine it’d be nice.”

Cecily skittered across the floor, and flung her arms around his waist. As Spencer wrapped his arms around her, Cecily rested her head against his chest. Spencer looked down as he took in his reality. She was… This was… The warmth of her touch creeped into his tired bones and he surrendered to her comfort. Spencer rested his cheek on top of her head, and closed his eyes.

It was a long time before either of them spoke again.

“This blanket is so soft,” Spencer said.

Cecily grunted in acknowledgement.

“How do you own so much comfy stuff?” he asked.

Cecily picked her head up, and pulled back enough to look him in the eyes.

“Easy,” she said. “I refuse to not be cozy. Also, I have sensory issues and can’t abide by icky fabrics.”

They smiled at each other. She was tired, he could see that plain as day. But she also seemed glad to see him.

Spencer brought his hands up to caress her face. His fingers trailed the lines of her cheekbone. He leaned down and kissed her lips. For a split second, he panicked over whether or not she’d find it okay and cursed himself for not asking first. He relaxed the next second when she arched up into him. He felt her hands gently pull down his back. Spencer’s fingers tangled up in her hair. Cecily moaned.

Oh god

That sound was never leaving his brain.

A few seconds later, Spencer broke off the kiss. Her face stayed close to his. She still had her eyes closed when he glanced down at her.

“I was starting to think I’d just dreamt that you kiss that good,” Cecily said.

Her voice was deep, and kinda throaty. He tried to ignore what that did to him.

“I am happy to report that it was in fact reality,” she said. “ Holy shit , Spence…”

Her eyes flicked open and focused all of their intensity on him. His world dropped out from under him, and every thought left his brain like she’d just turned off a lightswitch.

He stood, dumbfounded, his lips parted, and waited. For whatever she wanted next.

Something brushed against his leg and Spencer jumped back. He looked down to find a bright orange tabby cat rubbing against Cecily’s ankles.

“I am so sorry!” Cece said, bending down to pick the cat up. “I totally forgot to warn you about my cat. This is Took.”

And just like that, Spencer’s brain clicked back on. He straightened himself out, and stepped back closer to Cece.

“Sorry,” she said again.

“It’s alright. Just caught me off guard, that’s all. Hey, little fella.”

Spencer held out his fingers to the cat, who promptly head butted his palm. Spencer smiled and obliged him with head scratches.

“Did you name him after —“ Spencer said.

“— Pippin? Yeah. He’s kind of a derp, but I love him.”

“Seems apprepo for his namesake.”

Cecily smiled.

“Here,” she said, and handed Spencer the cat.

Reid fumbled for a moment, not knowing what to do with the live animal that had just been thrust upon him. But after a moment, he figured out how to cradle Took in his arms, and was soon petting the little animal’s belly as Took purred.

Cecily broke away from him, and went over to the coffee table. She took their food out of the plastic bags as Spencer sat down on the couch. The very first season of Dr. Who was already queued up on the TV.

“Alright,” she said. “Here’s your soup. Did you want like a bowl or something?”

Spencer shook his head. “No, that’s fine.”

“Okay, and there’s my food annnnd crab rangoons but we each only get six of those so don’t go eating mine or I will be very upset with you!”

“I promise I won’t eat yours.”

“Good.”

She moved the table closer to the couch, and sat down next to him.

“Are you wanting to do a more conversating type deal? Or is it like sensory overload you’d rather just exist and be quiet together? Cause I could kind of go either way right now.”

Spencer smiled. “I think I’d rather just exist right now, if you’d be okay with that?”

“Sure! Oh, I did turn up the air conditioning cause I like to be cozy with blankets but also abhor being too warm so it’ll probably get cold. Would you want to share my blanket and cuddle or are you like ‘Ew, gross, Cecily, don’t touch me’?”

“I would never say that.”

“I mean, it’d be valid!”

“I would never say that,” he repeated. “I would also love to share your blanket.”

Cecily smiled, and skootched closer to him. She draped a corner of the blanket over his shoulder. He wrapped it around himself. Cece started the first episode. They sat in silence, watching the show, and eating their food. Spencer only ate five of his crab rangoons. He gave the last one to Cece.

* * *

As the night wore on, sitting upright got more and more difficult. They ended up stretched out on the couch. Cecily was on the outer edge, and Spencer was between her and the back of the couch; both wrapped up in the blanket. Spencer’s arms were around her waist. His head rested against her neck. Cecily ran her fingers through his hair as she held him.

It felt good.

It felt right .

She didn’t notice the time as it ticked away, invisible and inevitable. She did notice when his tears hit her skin.

“Spence?”

He mumbled something she couldn’t make out. Cecily slid down so she could see him, and took his face in her hands. Fresh tears glistened in his eyes, and trailed down his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbled. “Sorry. It’s been a very long time since someone held me. It’s really nice.”

Cecily responded by wrapping her arms back around him, and pulling him in closer. Spencer’s arms constricted around her waist as he held tight to her. More tears slid down his face.

“It’s okay,” Cece whispered. “I got you.”

They stayed like that until he calmed down again. Then they relaxed their grip on each other. Cecily returned to threading her fingers in his hair. Spencer sighed.

“You wanna talk about it?” Cece asked.

Spencer was quiet for a moment before responding.

“It’s loud in my brain,” he said. “There’s so much information going in or going out, on top of my own thoughts, and it’s all so fast and happening constantly and it’s hard to focus on one thing sometimes so I end up focusing on nothing or everything and it’s exhausting . I don’t talk about it often because most of the time I know how to regulate it, but I was very stressed with this past case, for a number of reasons, so towards the end it kind of wore on me. It’s nothing concerning, mostly just an inconvenience.”

Spencer paused for a moment.

“And then I come here, and everything’s peaceful and cozy and you’re so sweet and perfect and I could sit and let my mind filter through everything and be still and it actually worked and…that never happens with other people. I got overwhelmed.”

“That sounds overwhelming,” Cece said. “And something I understand all too well, albeit probably not like you do. There’s always a thousand and one things going on in my head and forty-seven different make believe conversations. Why do you think I write so much? It’s the only way I can get it all out.”

She kissed the top of his head. Spencer smiled.

“I’m glad you find it peaceful here,” she said. “That makes me happy.”

Spencer shifted so he could look at her.

“Cece, I really like you,” he said. “I like this.”

“I really like you too, Spencer.”

Cecily leaned down and kissed him. The gesture was all too soft and sweet. He snuggled into her when she pulled away.

“Do you wanna stay over?” Cece asked. “I’m so tired, I’m probably gonna fall asleep soon.”

“I would love to, but I shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah work bullshit or whatever,” she mumbled, hugging him tighter.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” he said.

“That a promise?”

“You bet your sweet ass, that’s a promise,” he said, trying to use her words back at her but sounding terribly awkward.

“Omg are you an ass guy? I would not have pegged you as an ass guy.”

“Am I a what?!”

“You know, an ass guy. Like you have boob guys and you have ass guys. It’s like which one do you like more: boobs or ass?”

“That… what ? I’m not some serial killer with a fetish, Cecily.”

“Don’t make it weird!”

“It was weird before I got here!”

“Just answer the question, Spencer.”

Spencer thought about it for a moment.

“Is that the only anatomy I’m allowed to choose from?” he asked. “Also, I’m bisexual, so if we’re going based off of attraction, shouldn’t you use items that are present across the gender spectrum?”

Cecily harrumphed.

“Most guys don’t have boobs!” Spencer said. “Some girls and gender non-conforming persons don’t have boobs! Boobs are not universal.”

“Okay, fine,” Cecily said. “Let me rephrase. For scientific purposes, what is something physical that you find very attractive on someone? Like you see them randomly and are like ‘oh, that’s nice.’ Consistently.”

“Do you have an answer to this question?”

“Oh, I absolutely have an answer to this question.”

“Will you tell me your answer to this question?”

“Only after you tell me yours.”

Spencer thought for a moment.

“Legs,” he said.

“ Oh .”

“Specifically thighs, I would say.”

Cecily smirked.

“I can work with that,” she murmured.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“You’re a genius,” she said. “Figure it out.”

Cecily smiled as she watched the gears turn in Spencer’s brain and his cheeks flushed. After another moment, he cleared his throat and looked at her.

“Your turn,” he said.

“I do appreciate a good ass,” Cece said. “Which, yours, coincidentally, is uh, very nice. Totally grabbable, which I would love to exploit, respectfully. Just throwin that out there. But, my answer to that question, is um, hands.”

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up as an intrigued expression crossed his face.

“Yeaaaaaaah,” Cecily said. “I like hands… And uh, speaking of, you…you have…very expressive hands. It’s, uh, really hot.”

“Hmm…” he murmured.

Cecily felt him shift so they could be at eye level with each other. He brought a hand up to tuck some hair behind her ear.

“So now probably wouldn’t be the right time to tell you I’m really good at sleight of hand and close up magic, would it?” Spencer said.

“ Bullshit ,” she murmured.

“Check your pockets.”

Cecily shot him a very confused look as she moved her hands down to check the pockets in her pajama pants. To her astonishment, she pulled out a fortune cookie from each pocket. Cecily glanced over her shoulder at the coffee table. Sure enough, the fortune cookies that had been sitting there all night were gone. She looked back at Spencer. He shrugged.

“I have very dexterous fingers,” he said.

Cecily made a face. She discarded the fortune cookies on the floor, and took hold of his shirt collar by both of her fists.

“Goddamn it, Spencer,” she breathed. “I have to sleep tonight.”

“Then why is your leg wrapped around my waist?”

Cecily sighed. She retracted her leg back over to her side of the couch, and loosened her grip on his shirt. He kissed her by way of a thank you. They cuddled for a few more minutes before Spencer took his leave. Cecily did not get very much sleep. She woke up to a text from Spencer.

It was a photo.

Of his hand pressed between book pages.

* * *

The weather was balmy when the proper Sunday arrived. Spencer admired his outfit as he waited for Cecily. He turned around in front of the mirror that hung on his closet door.

His mind flashed back to the day he got this outfit. Penelope, JJ, and Emily had coerced him to come on their shopping trip. He was convinced they just needed someone to carry their bags, and Morgan had been busy. They’d dragged him into various stores, and he’d spent most of the time deducing how much credit card debt could be accrued with a singular purchase. Penelope had spotted the store, and fairly hauled him inside by the shirt collar. Emily and JJ followed, and before he knew it, Spencer was trying on suits for them. This suit was the last ensemble he’d tried on. The blazer and pants were white, lightweight linen and the shirt was light blue and breathable. It fit him like a glove. The girls insisted on getting it for him, even though he knew it was entirely impractical.

There was a knock at the door. Spencer took a deep breath, strode across the apartment, and answered the door. He’d prepared to be blown away, and was still stunned at how she looked. Cecily gasped when she saw him.

“Wow,” Cecily said. “You look… Wow.”

Spencer smiled, and did a little spin for her. Her smile widened, and she drew in close to him. The silver butterfly clips in her hair moved as if their metal wings were alive. 

“You are stunning,” she whispered as she kissed him.

“I was trying to compete with you,” he said.

She smiled and kissed him again. Then she drew back, and offered him her hand.

“Your carriage awaits, my prince,” she said with a mock little bow.

Spencer locked up his apartment and then took her hand. He followed her to her car, they piled in, and she drove to the park. When they arrived, Spencer would not let her carry the picnic supplies, despite several protests from Cece. She’d packed everything into a wide covered basket and a backpack cooler. Spencer shouldered the backpack, looping both straps around his arms, and took hold of the basket in his left hand.

Cecily took out a white lace parasol and popped it open. She propped it up on her shoulder and gave it a spin.

“I’ve never been here, so you’ll have to lead the way,” she told him.

Spencer indicated a path on the edge of the parking lot, and started walking in that direction. Cece followed. She threaded her left arm around his right arm, and Spencer’s heart fluttered as her fingers curled around his bicep. He glanced down at her hand then over at Cece.

For a moment, Spencer’s brain told him to run. The instinctive panic over unhealed wounds and reopened scars; the desire to protect himself from being hurt again, from letting someone in.

He took a deep breath…and let it all go.

He focused instead on the familiar winding path. The uneven cobblestones beneath his feet. The chipped concrete urns which held nothing but dirt. The slight pressure of Cecily next to him. The excited sparkle in her eyes and the contented smile resting on her lips. He relaxed into new sensations. Into feeling happy. Into feeling content. Into feeling home.

When they reached the causeway which led to the back of the garden, Cecily gasped. He couldn’t blame her. Trellises of flowering vines arched over the path. The late morning sun filtered through the leaves, making vibrant shadows dance. Bees, butterflies, and birds hummed and buzzed around them.

Cecily glanced around to make sure they were alone before exchanging a brief look with Spencer. Then she broke away and ran off down the causeway. Her skirt flew back behind her, a mythical trail of soft blue fabric. She spun around, careful not to trip over her own feet, laughing as the sparkling sun ignored the subtle shade of leafy vines and lace parasol to paint bright stars on her cheeks and arms. Spencer watched her twirl, drinking in the image of this beautiful spirit untouched by the world’s weariness.

No. Correction.

Not untouched. Unbothered. He realized she knew very deeply the cruelty and unkindness of the world, but smiled in spite of it.

Cecily noticed Spencer staring. Instead of scolding him for it, she ran back over to him, and put her parasol on the ground.

“Come on,” she said. “Come spin with me.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment before setting the basket on the ground and slipping out of the backpack. Cecily smiled and grabbed his hand. They ran off down the path. Cece spun him around, the pair laughing and smiling and shrieking like children. Eventually, she pulled him in for a kiss. His hands slipped comfortably around her waist, leaning in as she held him. One of her hands rested on the back of his neck, and the other bunched around his shirt collar.

Her kiss left him breathless.

Cecily smiled. His hands pinched her waist. She leaned in again, and kissed his cheek.

“Alright, that’s enough,” she said. “I don’t want the tea to get cold.”

They retrieved their discarded items, and made their way to the end of the causeway and out into the back of the park. The tree stood, majestic and stoic, in the back corner, its large spindly branches casting wonderful shade on the emerald grass. Reid spread out the blankets in a grassy spot beneath the tree.

Cecily unpacked the picnic basket first, placing items on the blanket in neat order. Much to Spencer’s surprise, she revealed an entire tea pot, as well as two tea cups and saucers, a thermos, and four different books.

“I didn’t have space to bring my entire tea collection,” Cecily said, as she poured the thermos of hot water into the teapot. “So you’re just going to have to settle for the one I brought.”

“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” Spencer said.

“It needs to steep for at least 8 minutes. Can you keep track of that?”

He nodded. Cecily began unpacking the cooler of food, bringing out containers of tiny sandwiches, cut up watermelon, strawberries, and mini cakes. Spencer minded the tea and examined the stack of books. They talked about their weeks; about their worries since the last time they’d spoken in person.

When the tea was ready, Spencer poured them both a cup. The tea leaves had stained the water a pinkish orange color, and the faint smell of raspberries and oranges drifted up from the cups. Cece produced some little sugar packets, honey, and a small bottle of milk from the backpack. Both of them opted for the honey, spoons stirring the dark golden substance in delicate circles. Cecily took a sip of her tea to taste it, and satisfied with the flavor, settled back onto the blanket. She placed her open parasol on the grass, angled vaguely towards them.

Spencer labored over what items of food he wanted before deciding on taking a little bit of everything. Then he sat down near Cecily, and stretched his legs out.

“What’s your story with this place?” Cecily asked, looking at Reid over the rim of her tea cup. “If you want to share! Obviously. I’d love to know.”

Spencer chewed his sandwich thoughtfully for a moment, and looked out over the park.

“Do you remember when I told you about Jason Gideon, my mentor?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “The one who got you into the BAU.”

“When I first started, my second week on the job to be exact, we were working this serial out of Detroit. It wasn’t anything special, textbook sexual sadist, multiple stab wounds and branding on each of the victims, clear victimology. But for whatever reason I couldn’t get this guy out of my head. Gideon noticed. So when we got back from that case, he took me here. For bird watching of all things. We sat right under this tree, in the grass, and he pointed out different birds to me. He said ‘Reid…that won’t be the last killer that gets under your skin.’ I asked him how he dealt with being around so much death constantly.

‘I remember to surround myself with life,’ he said. ‘I find beauty in the world around me. I make order out of the chaos.’”

He told me to ‘find someplace that isn’t touched by all the horror we see.’”

I, of course, knew that was impossible. There isn’t anywhere on discovered earth that doesn’t have some semblance of violence present. And in the end, Gideon had to leave because it all got too much for him.”

Cecily frowned as Spencer paused.

“But the tree stuck,” he said, looking up at the branches of the old oak. “I kept coming back here to sit under it. I grew up in the desert so I never really had a tree like this before. Whenever I’m homesick or stressed or lonely or bored I come out here and sit. Watch the branches and leaves, feel the wind, notice how the tree changes with the seasons. Between the shifting and changing around me, this is a constant I can always come back to. It’s the first place that felt like home to me.”

Spencer turned his attention to Cece.

“I don’t need something perfect like Gideon did. I just need…home.”

Cecily smiled. “That’s beautiful. Thank you for sharing.”

Spencer liked her sincerity. He knew she meant every word.

“Also, I’m retroactively blaming Gideon for all of the bird puns,” she said.

Spencer laughed. “He’d like that.”

A moment later, Reid added: “He’d also really like you.”

Cece smiled. Then she set her tea down and moved over to the food to make herself a plate.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Cecily asked.

“Go ahead,” he replied, sipping his tea.

“Is it important to you for someone you’re…involved with to…be a part of your work?”

“Someone I’m romantically involved with? No, not at all. Honestly, I think I would prefer as much separation as possible.”

Cecily settled back into her previous position. Spencer sipped from his tea cup again as he studied her.

“Any particular reason you’re asking?” he said.

Cecily stared at the strawberry between her fingers for a long moment.

“I understand your work,” she said. “I appreciate it. I know you’re very good at what you do, and I can tell from the way you talk that you love your job. I get the same way about writing. But there’s also a level of… yikes with what you do that I can’t handle. Especially not on a daily basis. I wanted to know if you saw that as a problem.”

She looked at him as she popped the strawberry into her mouth.

“You having a boundary about my work is completely understandable, Cece,” he said.

Cece’s expression softened. “Really?” she asked. “Like I know it’s gonna affect you, and I’m not saying I don’t care about that, I just don’t want to hear all of the grizzly details.”

“Okay,” he said. “You won’t have to. I’ll respect that.”

“And that’s not a problem for you?”

“….No.”

Spencer saw the tension ease in her shoulders. A flash of anger surged through him; indignation and rage over the mistreatment that led her to be afraid. He moved to sit next to her, placing an arm around her and planting his palm firmly down on the blanket by her thigh. Cecily smiled and quirked an eyebrow. She placed a hand on his thigh. Her attention was enough to bring him back to the present and forget his anger. Cece ate a piece of watermelon and licked the juice off her fingers.

“I have a question for you,” Spencer said.

“Hmm?”

“Who do you think would win in a fight: R2-D2 or Jar Jar Binks?”

Cecily made an indignant face.

“Artoo,” she said. “Without a doubt.”

“Even if Jar Jar is a secret Sith Lord?”

Cece facepalmed.

“No, Spencer… No,” she said. “You can’t be a conspiracy theorist!”

“I am a man of science, Cece.”

“So where is the science behind Jar Jar being anything other than a complete clutz? Show me your work!”

Spencer smirked, all too pleased with himself. He stood up, and adjusted his cuffs. Then he took his tea and sipped at it.

“We begin in the year 32 BBY…”

He paced back and forth on the blankets as he presented his case. Cecily watched him, eating her food and intermittently interjecting her opinions. He was a little self-conscious at first, but after a while he got into it. At one point during his soliloquy, Spencer finished his tea and set the cup down so his hands were free to move as he talked.

“I don’t buy it!” Cece said. “I mean…Jar Jar having the same concealing Force powers as Palapetine AND being from the same planet? It’s not possible!”

“Not probable ,” Spencer said.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and bent down to drape it over the picnic basket. He grabbed another sandwich, ate it, and straightened up again.

“What’re the odds?” Cece asked.

“A thousand to one,” Reid said with the certainty of someone who knew. “But you strike me as someone who loves a certain rogue-ish smuggler, and what’s that phrase he’s always saying? Never tell me the odds.”

He looked down at her, one of his hands poised at his shirt cuff. He undid the button, and rolled up his sleeve. The action diverted his attention away from Cece for a moment. She didn’t respond so he glanced back at her before unbuttoning his second cuff. She was staring at him. He glanced around.

“What? What is it?” Spencer asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

Cecily blinked.

“No, you, um…no.”

Her voice was rough. Spencer studied her. He noticed the look in her sharp blue eyes. Alert. Intense. He saw the way her tongue flicked out slightly to wet her lips. Saw the color in her cheeks.

Oh.

Oh .

Spencer thought for a moment, unfamiliar with anything relating to this scenario. Then he remembered how he felt when she’d pressed in closer at the movie theater and made him look at her. So he decided to return the favor.

Spencer moved a couple of steps closer to her, just to make sure he had her attention. He did. Then Spencer knelt down on the blanket. Cecily’s eyes widened, and Spencer stifled a smile.

“Wh…what’re you doiiiiing?” Cecily asked.

“Giving you a better view,” he replied.

He made sure to angle himself slightly, and then slowly rolled up his other shirt sleeve, taking great care to ease down each crease with a stroke of his fingers. Cecily’s face turned scarlet.

Spencer liked the way she looked at him. He liked being the object of her desire. When he was finished, he leaned back, resting his weight on his lower legs and the balls of his feet.

Cecily moved towards him in a flash and kissed him so hard she almost knocked him off balance. He clutched at her arms to steady himself. Her tongue slipped into his mouth. His hands slid up and over the exposed skin on her back and chest. She was so soft. His fingers traced the curve of her neck, and trailed down to dip below her collarbone.

She clutched at his hair and pulled his head back to expose his neck so she could trail a line of kisses down to his chest. The sensation of her lips and tongue against his skin sent a shiver down his spine, and he gasped. Cecily stopped when she reached his shoulder blade. She buried her face in his neck. He could feel her breath against his skin.

Every part of his being screamed for her to keep going.

But he couldn’t get any words to go from his brain to out his mouth.

“ Fuck, you’re so hot ,” she breathed.

No, that…that…you’re the one that’s hot… he thought. But again, couldn’t think straight enough to say anything. The pounding in his heart eventually slowed, and his breath came back to him. He sighed as she picked her head up to look at him.

“Sorry, what were we talking about?” she asked.

He swallowed, but his voice still wouldn’t work.

“Oh right!” Cece said. “You don’t really think Jar Jar is a sith lord, do you?”

“What?” he said. “No. No…I…I just wanted to distract you so I could put your present in the picnic basket.”

Cecily flashed him a questioning look. She moved away to examine the basket. Spencer sat down on the blanket. He ran both of his hands through his hair, and took a deep breath. Much to his relief, the higher functions of his brain resumed work. With another shake of his head, his thoughts were clear again. Well, clear enough…

She returned to his side carrying the wrapped parcel he’d hidden for her. Her fingers tore away the bright paper and exposed the cover to the volume. It was a copy of The Importance of Being Earnest. The edges were painted with little caricatures from the play; cartoon muffins and scones and sandwiches and a tea set, a baby carriage, pages of a novel, roses. The background for the cartoons was a deep purple.

“Do you like it?” Spencer asked.

“I love it,” Cecily said, still staring at the book. “Spence, this is beautiful. Thank you.”

Spencer smiled. Cece leaned over and kissed his cheek. She flipped through a few pages, and then glanced up at him.

“This is so sweet,” she said. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Spencer said. “I wanted to.”

She smiled at him. He leaned over and kissed her very quickly. She giggled.

“Thank you,” Cece said. “Now, I believe, poetry was part of your request, yes? Go pick out something from one of those books over there, and I’ll read it.”

Spencer did as he was directed. He brought the whole stack of books over though so he could be close to her as he looked through them. It didn’t take him long to decide. The second volume she brought was Shakespeare’s sonnets. He handed her that book.

“Ooh! Yes. I was hoping you’d pick this one. Do you have a favorite?” Cece asked.

“108,” he said.

Spencer stretched out on the blanket, and, on impulse, rested his head in her lap. She smiled down at him, and ran her fingers through his hair. Cecily cracked open the book and recited sonnet 108.

What's in the brain that ink may character

Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?

What's new to speak, what now to register,

That may express my love, or thy dear merit?

Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,

I must each day say o'er the very same;

Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,

Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name.

So that eternal love in love's fresh case,

Weighs not the dust and injury of age,

Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,

But makes antiquity for aye his page;

Finding the first conceit of love there bred,

Where time and outward form would show it dead.

From there, she bounced around the book, flipping pages until a new sonnet caught her eye. Then she’d stop and recite it. Her voice was strong, and clear, and sweet. Every so often she fumbled over the pacing. Spencer closed his eyes. He felt the warm sun against his skin, the soft pull of her fingers in his hair. He breathed in the smell of the summer air, the citrus burst of tea, and the scent of fresh grass. He listened to the music of her voice as she read immortal words speaking on timeless concepts.

There in the park, in the early afternoon, Spencer felt the wounds in his soul stitch closed as the seconds ticked by and dissolved into happy memory.

“Caring about someone isn't complicated. It isn't easy. But it isn't complicated, either.”

– Jim Butcher

Chapter Text

“We are who we are, be­cause of those we choose to love and be­cause of those who love us.”

— Kate Mosse

Cecily sat in her library, in her armchair in front of the fireplace. A small fire burned in the hearth, casting a warm glow into the room. The writer was wrapped in a blanket, with her fingers curled around a tea cup, and a sleeping kitten snug in her lap. The paperback copy of Pride & Prejudice Spencer had bought her was perched on her knee so she could read it.

It’d been a couple weeks since the picnic. Back to back cases for Spencer and a crazy tight writing schedule for Cecily meant they hadn’t seen each other since the park. They’d texted as often as they could, and talked on the phone whenever they could make that work. She missed him.

As if on cue, her phone went off. She answered.

“Hey you,” Cece said.

“Hey, sorry to call so late,” he said. “We’re still neck deep in a case. I stepped out for coffee so I could call.”

“Calling while on the clock? Naughty boy .”

“Only for you.”

She hoped he could feel her smile through the phone.

“Did you need something?” she asked.

“No, I just wanted to hear your voice. What’re you up to?”

“I’m leaving rambling little notes in the margins of my favorite book for this very cute dork.”

“Ooh! I finished my read last week. Where are you at?”

“I have like five pages left. It’s all the gooey stuff.”

“That’s the best part!”

“I could do without the marriage, but other than that, I agree. The understatement of the second proposal always gets me. Love a man who does his homework.”

“I have good news for you then.”

“Oh?”

“I have completed exactly…5,391 pieces of homework in my lifetime.”

Cecily laughed. “Fuck,” she said. “I guess I’m just gonna have to fall in love with you then.”

Spencer made some sort of noise on the other end, and then cleared his throat.

“I mean, you don’t have to…” he said.

“No, no, no! I said I love a man who does his homework, and you’ve clearly done your homework.”

“I just meant…” and his voice got soft. “I… I want to be someone you fall in love with.”

“Oh my god, Spence…”

Cecily disturbed the cat to pull her knees up to her chest, and hugged her legs. She held the phone close to her ear, and waited to see if he said anything else. The line stayed silent.

“You… You already are ,” she whispered.

“I am?” he asked.

“ Yes . I… Yes, absolutely . I…”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Her unspoken feelings hung in the air. A few more seconds of silence slipped by.

“So are you,” Spencer said. “For me. If you…want that.”

“I do.”

Cecily heard him sigh in relief on the other end. She took a deep breath, and let it go, trying to steady her nerves.

“When do you get back?” she asked.

“Not sure yet.”

“Um, okay… I think we should talk.”

“We are talking.”

“No, like, in person talk. Can you let me know when you’ll be back?”

“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay? Was it something I said?”

“It’s not bad. I want to have a conversation about us.”

“Us?” he said.

His voice sounded far away. Cecily swallowed and kept talking.

“I just have all these questions, and it’s probably mostly my anxiety, but I would feel a lot more comfortable talking through things about what we both want out of this, and where we see it going, and what a relationship would look like.”

“Defining terms.”

“Yes, exactly! I don’t want us to wake up a week or a month or years down the line to realize that we both want different things. The last thing I want to do is break your heart. Or…have mine broken. And obviously it’s not like we’re aiming for that, but if we don’t talk about where we’re at, or if we’re not even compatible, then we’re just setting ourselves up for failure.”

“I understand,” Spencer said.

“And I want it to be an honest conversation.”

Cecily paused. She heard Spencer take a deep breath.

“Whenever I get back, why don’t you come over to my apartment and we can have dinner, and exchange our copies of Pride & Prejudice, and talk about us?” Spencer said.

“You’d be okay with that?” Cece asked.

“Of course.”

“That sounds…amazing.”

“Okay, it’s a date. And in the meantime, I’ll think about us and get ready for this conversation.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I have to go now, but I’ll let you know as soon as we’re headed home.”

“Okay, sounds good. Be safe.”

“Cece?”

“Yeah?”

“I really want to be with you.”

The call ended before Cece had a chance to comment. Before she could tell him that she wanted that too.

* * *

Spencer hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and took a long swig of his coffee. Rossi stepped out into the hallway to call Spencer back to the group. The man took one look at Reid and knew.

“This about the author?” he asked.

“Cece? Yeah,” Spencer said.

Rossi nodded, and the pair walked in silence for a moment.

“She’s coming over after this case wraps,” Spencer said. “She wants to talk about our relationship.”

“Oof,” Rossi said. “That can either mean something very good. Or very bad.”

Spencer didn’t say anything for a moment.

“What dinner should I make if I want her to be my girlfriend?” Reid asked.

Rossi smirked. “Pasta. And wine.”

“That’s it? Not very specific. What kind of pasta? What kind of wine?”

Rossi sighed as he pulled open the conference room door.

“We’ll go shopping,” Rossi said.

* * *

Cece adjusted her dress, and flicked a stray piece of cat hair away. The ensemble she’d chosen for tonight consisted of a sleek black dress, simple silver jewelry, and black pumps. The dress was form fitting, and there was a slit in the skirt on the left side, exposing her lower thigh. Her marked up copy of Pride & Prejudice rested between her fingers.

She knocked on the door. Her nerves ran with the worst possible outcomes for the five seconds she waited on that doorstep. About how this night would end in disaster. How she would be left all alone.

Spencer opened the door, and Cece couldn’t help but smile. He looked good. The forest green of his dress shirt complimented his fair skin and brought out the soft color of his eyes. His tie was thin, and white and decorated with small purple flowers and little tree branches and leaves. The bright patterns of his mismatched socks really elevated the whole picture, and stood out against his charcoal grey dress pants.

His smile over seeing her made Cecily’s heart melt.

“Hi,” she said with a small wave of her hand.

“Hey,” he said. “Come in.”

He stepped aside, and gestured for her to enter. Cecily crossed over the threshold. It felt like stepping into a wizard’s study. The walls were painted dark green. Large bookshelves of rich wood were set into the walls and stretched from the floor to the ceiling. From what Cecily could see, there was no room on any of the shelves. An unassuming desk and chair stood next to the closed bedroom door. An impressive pile of closed case files stood atop the desk. A leather couch stretched across the center of the space. Soft classical music emanated from a vintage gramophone perched on a side table next to the couch. Various lamps and tapered candles stood about the room, illuminating everything in a soft glow.

Spencer closed the door behind her, shutting out the rest of the world.

“Welcome to my house,” he said. “I hope it’s not too messy. I rushed to clean everything, which just resulted in me throwing things in my bedroom and shutting the door.”

“I did the same thing when you came over!” Cece said.

They shared a smile. Spencer stepped closer so Cecily took the opportunity to slip her fingers around the knot of his tie and pull him into a kiss. He surrendered to the motion with an eagerness that betrayed his longing for her touch. Cecily curled into his side, and let his arms wrap her in a soft embrace. She rested her head against his chest, and took a deep breath.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

He held her tighter.

“I missed you too,” Spencer whispered back.

They stayed like that for a moment. Somewhere in the distance a timer dinged. Spencer moved to breakaway. Cecily groaned and wouldn’t release him from her arms. Spencer chuckled.

“Do you want burned garlic bread?” he asked.

Cecily’s head popped up.

“There’s garlic bread?” she asked, her eyes bright.

“Not if you don’t let me go.”

Cecily sighed, and released him. Spencer kissed her forehead before heading to the kitchen. Cecily stepped further into the apartment. She set her book down on the table next to the gramophone, and glanced over her shoulder to look at Reid in the kitchen. He pulled the bread halves out of the oven, and transferred them to a waiting cutting board. The smells from the kitchen were intoxicating. Spencer noticed her watching.

“Sorry,” he said. “The pasta isn’t quite ready yet. Did you want some wine while we wait?”

“Yes, please,” Cecily said, moving towards him.

“White, okay?”

Cecily nodded. Spencer uncorked the bottle of wine that had been resting on the small dining table, and poured them each a glass. He handed one to Cece, kept one for himself, and tipped his glass towards her. Cece smiled, and clinked glasses with him. She took a sip. Her eyebrows shot up.

“Holy shit, that’s good!” she said.

Spencer, who had a similar shocked expression on his face, nodded in agreement as Cecily took a longer drink from her glass.

“I don’t usually drink alcohol, so I don’t have much to compare it to for reference,” he said. “But this is quite good, yes.”

“How’d you land on this one?” Cecily asked. “Pick a bottle at random? No judgment. That is a completely valid way to drink.”

“What? No. A friend got this for me. Rossi. He sort of adopted the BAU, or we adopted him I’m not sure which, but not as our dad because that’s Hotch. Rossi’s like everyone’s grumpy old Sicilian uncle. Anyways, he knew I was really nervous about tonight, so he helped me figure out a menu and got us the wine.”

“That’s so sweet!”

“You would like him,” he said. “He’s also an author.”

“Ooh! What does he write?”

Spencer walked around the counter, and crossed the apartment to one of his bookshelves. Cecily followed him. He shifted some books around on one of the lower shelves, and then produced a thick hardback volume. The bright red lettering on the dust jacket proclaimed it written by David Rossi. She opened it to peruse the inside sleeve.

“That is his first book,” Spencer said. “Technically, a reprint of his first book because I prefer hardbound books to paperbacks, and the original run was only in paperback since it was his first. I don’t know if you’ll like it because it is about serial killers, and the cases he’s solved over the years.”

“So not light reading,” Cecily said, closing the book. “Got it!”

“It’s pretty fascinating though if you can stomach it!” Spencer said. “He documents some of his most famous cases in this one; cases that set a whole new precedent for the behavioral sciences as they relate to criminal justice. He also talks about the early days of the BAU, back when it was just him and Gideon, and what they did to establish the unit as we know it today.”

“Okay, I will read it. Because I make it a point to read at least one book by authors that I’ll meet in person. And also because I’m curious about the history. That sounds cool.”

“You can keep it. I have another copy.”

“Thanks!”

Cecily took the book, and placed it out where she would remember to grab it before leaving. Spencer moved back into the kitchen to slice the garlic bread. Cece took the opportunity to snoop through his bookshelves. The one directly in front of her she soon found was full of books similar in nature to Rossi’s so she moved on to the bookcase to her left.

Ah, perfect. His fiction collection.

She sipped at her wine as she scanned the spines. Frankenstein… Good Omens … The Invisible Man… The Narrative of John Smith … Some Agatha Christie, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Chesterton. His copy of The Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Hobbit were gorgeous. Amid the haphazard stacks, mixed in among the other volumes, Cecily noticed the neat row of her books. She glanced around the room and spied a pen on his desk. She snagged it, and hastily scrawled her name and a heart on the inside cover of her works. Then she returned the pen and books to their proper places and resumed looking over the bookshelf.

“Oh my god! You read The Dresden Files ?!” Cecily said.

Spencer’s face lit up.

“It’s one of my favorites,” he said.

“Mine too!  These books are the only reason I know how to drive stick shift because I found what is now my car and knew there was no way in hell I wasn’t going to own a blue beetle of my own.”

Spencer smiled at her from across the apartment.

“Have you read the whole series?” Cecily asked. “Which book is your favorite?”

She moved back over to the kitchen to talk to him. Spencer finished cutting up the bread, and went over to the stove to check on the pasta.

“I have finished the series,” he said. “And Dead Beat is my favorite.”

“Good choice.”

“What’s yours?”

“Proven Guilty. Molly’s my favorite character.”

Spencer nodded like he’d already guessed at that. “Ivy is my favorite,” he said.

“Oh that’s so cute! I love that!” Cece said. “You guys could be memory buddies!”

Spencer laughed.

“Sorry, that was dumb,” she said.

“No, it wasn’t,” he insisted.

Cecily smiled at him, and took a sip of wine. The pair talked about the series until the pasta was ready. Cecily went into great detail over everything she loved about Jim Butcher’s writing. Spencer nodded along, and added his own tidbits as he served the food.

Cecily fell silent when they sat down to eat. She took a bite of the pasta. It was amazing. She playfully glared at him.

“This is unfair ,” she said. “Sweet, hot, smart AND you can cook?!”

Spencer smiled as he picked at the pasta on his plate.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just basic chemical reactions that you season until it tastes good. If you want to taste something impressive, wait for dessert.”

Cecily shook her head, and took a piece of garlic bread to dip into the sauce. The bread was also fantastic. After a few more bites, Cecily took another drink of wine and looked at Spencer across the table.

“Would you be okay to talk about stuff now?” she asked.

Spencer glanced up from his plate to meet her eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice gentle.

Cecily sensed there was something else he wanted to say. She shot him a questioning look. Spencer sighed, and put his fork down.

“I have this really bad habit of sabotaging myself in interpersonal relationships sometimes,” he said. “I hesitate or I make excuses or I talk myself out of what I really want. I’ve done it before and I did it with Maeve and I don’t want that to happen here.”

“I don’t either!” Cece said. “I do the same thing, but that’s not what I’m trying to do here. I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you too.”

“I just need to know what that means to you. And share what that means for me.”

Cecily paused.

“I’m not looking for reasons not to be with you, if that’s what you think,” and she dropped her eyes. “If anything, I was more prompted to ask because I figured you…might…be.”

“No,” he said, reaching over to take her hand. “No, that’s the furthest thing from my mind.”

Cecily breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

Cece turned her hand around so their palms touched. Her fingers curled around his wrist. They shared a look, and then went back to eating.

“So how do you want to do this?” Cecily asked.

Spencer shrugged. “I figured you would take the lead.”

“Do you want to just take turns asking questions or sharing?” Cece said.

“Sure. You first?”

Cecily thought for a moment.

“Uh…alright…are you looking for something long term or short term?”

“I want a long term commitment,” he said.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“I would also like that. With you,” Cecily said.

Spencer did a little nod of his head. They both ate a bit more of their food.

“My turn?” Spencer asked.

Cece nodded. She watched the hesitation cross his face.

“My job is incredibly important to me,” he said. “I don’t see myself ever giving that up. Being with me means dealing with my crazy schedule, and canceling plans so I can take urgent cases, and me generally being away a lot. Is that something you’re willing to take on in a relationship?”

Cecily considered this as she took a sip of her wine.

“Short answer?” she said. “Yes. Long answer: my schedule is really flexible. I set my own hours, for the most part, and all the stuff I can’t reschedule, I plan in advance because I have anxiety. It isn’t a huge deal for me that saving lives and catching killers doesn’t make for convenient planning. And you being gone is probably better for my productivity anyways.”

“… Thank you ,” he said.

Cece shrugged. “Of course. That being said, if we miss something super important, for whatever scheduling bullshit that comes up, I would expect us to like…make up for it. Just at a different time.”

“Of course!”

“Okay. Um, would you want our hypothetical relationship to be monogamous?” she asked.

Spencer took a bite of food as he considered her question.

“Yes,” he said. “I don’t have a lot of free time. I think attempting more than one fulfilling romantic relationship, while continuing to pursue my passions and career and maintain the caliber of my current friendships, would be a mess for everyone involved. I’m not opposed to having a polyamorous partner, but again, with my schedule, the odds of that working are very slim. I want to be able to spend time with my partner, when it works for both of us, and managing that would get more difficult when more people are involved.”

Spencer realized he’d been talking for a moment, and gave Cece an apologetic look. He took a drink of his wine.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I’m kind of in the same boat,” Cecily said. “My best friend Zoe’s polyamorous, and I love them, and their polycule is great, but I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to pursue that myself. I don’t think it would be as fun for me. I think I would just be exhausted.”

“Cool. What does monogamy look like for you? I don’t need a list of dos and don’ts or anything like that, but sometimes I have to flirt with people for my job and I would prefer to know if you’ll be upset with me for that now.”

“Oh god, no,” she said. “I wouldn’t be upset over that. It’s your job. We’re adults.”

Cecily took a drink of her wine. “To answer your question though, I wouldn’t pursue anyone else romantically or sexually, and I would expect the same in return. That’s mostly what it boils down to, I think. I’m not saying that I need to be the only friend in your life or that we’re never going to be jealous over things. It would just be the work and the time and the active pursuit and…physical stuff…that would stay between us.”

“Okay, that aligns with my thoughts.”

Cecily paused again to munch on her food. She picked at the edge of her garlic bread for a moment before speaking again.

“D…do you want to have sex with me?” Cece asked.

Spencer stopped moving, his full fork halfway to his mouth, and stared.

“Right now?” he asked.

“No, I meant in general. As in are you sexually attracted to me? Is sex something you want in a relationship?”

Spencer facepalmed, his cheeks turning rosy. Cecily concealed a smile behind the rim of her wine glass.

“That…makes more sense,” he mumbled.

Spencer cleared his throat, and set down his fork. He took a drink, and then proceeded to fiddle with the glass as he looked at her across the table.

“Yes,” he said. “I am incredibly attracted to you.”

Cecily felt her heart rate increase. Spencer swallowed and took another drink of his wine before setting the glass back down on the table.

“The thought of having sex with you is very intriguing, and, if we’re being honest, one that I have spent a good deal of my recent time pondering. So if that’s something you want, I would very much like that,” he said, doing his best to not stumble over his words. “I don’t have a lot of experience, just enough to know what I like, but I’m willing to learn and I think you will find that I am very good at studying.”

Cecily set her glass down on the table. Spencer cleared his throat again.

“Is…sex with me something you want?” he asked.

Cecily blew out a breath and dropped her eyes.

“I almost went down on you in a public park the last time we were together. I probably would have if I hadn’t remembered we were in a public park,” Cece said. “So yeah . I want you.”

Cece watched his hand fist around his napkin. They both stared at each other.

“Wh…th…um…ye…okay,” Spencer stammered. “Okay. That’s…that’s good.”

“I just…”

Cecily looked down again, and picked at her nails.

“I’ve never had a good time with sex before,” she said. “Granted, I’ve changed a lot since then, and I think we could have a lot of fun. But I’m really nervous. So I don’t…want to do that…right now.”

Spencer’s eyes softened as he looked at her. He reached across the table and offered her his hand. Cece glanced over at his outstretched fingers and then met his eyes. She fully expected to find pity, or frustration, or condescension in his gaze. There was none of that. Only quiet patience, and admiration. He waited for her. She hesitated and then took his hand.

“We won’t do anything until you’re completely ready,” Spencer said. “And I’m sorry that you were treated poorly. You did not deserve that.”

Cecily sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate you saying that.”

“Of course. I want you to be comfortable. With me. With us. With everything.”

Cecily smiled at him. He gently squeezed her hand. They went back to eating.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Spencer asked, a few minutes later.

“This conversation has helped a lot. But aside from that, I think it’s mostly a time thing.”

Spencer nodded.

“There is one other thing I’m curious about,” she said. “Doooo you… Are you… When it comes to sex, do you…prefer…like…giving?”

He looked very confused for half a second before realizing what she was actually asking.

“Cece, are you trying to ask if I’m submissive?” he said.

Cecily gave him a sheepish smile.

“Yeaaaaaaah,” she said.

He laughed. Cece groaned.

“Fuck,” she murmured.

“No,” Spencer said. “No, it’s not bad.”

Cecily made a face, took a bite of garlic bread, and waited for him to settle down.

“Yes,” Reid said. “I’m a sub.”

 “Good. Okay. Good.”

There was a teasing glint in his eyes for a moment, and Cecily wondered if he wanted to say something else. He stayed quiet. When he spoke again, his tone was back to serious.

“Was there anything else you wanted to ask regarding this topic right now?” Spencer said.

Cecily shook her head.

“Okay,” he said. “If you ever have more questions, please ask.”

“I will,” Cece said.

Cecily took another drink of her wine.

“Do you have any other relationship boundaries you want to share?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t want to get married again,” she said. “That’s a hard line for me.”

She looked up, met Spencer’s eyes, and found quiet reassurance in his gaze.

“I did it, and I hated it,” Cecily said. “And I know that it wouldn’t be the same if I did it again, but I don’t really even like the concept of marriage to begin with, and I don’t want to change my name or share my money or any of the other things that a legal marriage gets you, and I would rather instantaneously combust than have any sort of ties to organized religion again so for any long term relationship that I’m in I don’t want marriage to be on the table as an option.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Spencer said.

“Is that…okay…with you? Is being married something you want?”

Spencer took a deep breath. He was still looking at her.

“My parents divorced when I was 6. I’ve observed my friends and coworkers through various states of separation. The ones that stay together always say that it’s worth it. I think there was a time that I really wanted that life; that I thought I needed it. But now…it’s not important to me. I care more about knowing the person I’m with will be there when I need them and that they know I’ll do the same for them. I don’t need a piece of paper from the government to make that valid.”

Cecily smiled at him. Spencer reciprocated the expression, and then looked down at his plate.

“I don’t want children either,” he said.

Cecily’s eyes widened.

“Sweet,” she said. “Neither do I.”

He glanced up at her. His eyes asked her for more information.

“The story behind my decision is…traumatic,” she said. “Not dinner conversation. I won’t go into it now, but basically I can’t have children. My ex husband divorced me over it. It’s a whole mess.”

“Oh,” Spencer said.

“Yeah. What’s your reasoning?”

“Also vaguely traumatic, and not appropriate for dinner,” he said. “Health issues from my mom’s side of the family. But mostly…I like my life to be a certain way, and in a certain order, and with a certain level of peacefulness. Children don’t operate like that. Don’t get me wrong, I love children. I love being around my nephews. But I don’t think I would enjoy raising a kid. I also don’t think I would be a very good father.”

“You have nephews?”

Spencer nodded, his face lighting up with a smile.

“Four,” he said. “My friends’ kids, but they’re family at this point.”

“That’s so adorable. I love that.”

“Do you have nieces or nephews?”

Cecily shook her head as she took another drink of wine. “I always thought I’d make a great aunt though.”

“You would,” he said with a smile.

“Okay, I have a non-serious question,” she said. “Do you prefer going out or staying in?”

“It depends! I like both,” he said.

The conversation for the rest of dinner turned to lighter topics. After they finished eating, Reid cleared away the dishes and brought out dessert; homemade cappuccino cheesecake. It had a majestic ribbon of chocolate on top, and even some chocolate covered espresso beans (which Cecily promptly stole a couple of and popped into her mouth). Spencer had a small smile on his face as he served her a slice. Cecily took a bite as soon as she had the plate in her hand. Her eyes fluttered closed as the confection slipped over her lips and onto her tongue.

“ Oh my god ,” she murmured.

Spencer smiled, pleased with himself, and sat down with his own slice.

“Forget sex,” Cecily said, pointing to the cake and then taking another bite. “This…this is what I want.”

Spencer laughed.

“You sure about that?” he asked.

Cecily glanced up, and saw him lick some of the cake off his fingers.

“Okay, well now I’m less sure,” she said.

Spencer laughed again as he took a bite of the cheesecake.

“You do realize I’m not asking you to choose, right?” he said.

Cecily nodded. “I just wanted to make a joke. And this cheesecake is really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

Cecily reached over to take his hand. She brought his fingers up to her lips, and kissed the back of his palm.

“I like you more,” she said.

Spencer blushed.

After they finished dessert, Reid cleared the table again, and refilled their wine glasses. They moved over to the living room. They sat down on the couch, and leaned against each other. His arm wrapped around her waist, and her hand rested on his thigh. They talked about their dreams, their hopes, their secrets, their pasts; content in the connection, in the soft words they shared, in the light brush of lips against skin for gentle, subtle, sweet reassurance.

The night wore on around them, oblivious to the bond being tempered beneath its eye. Cecily left his apartment around 1am. She kissed him goodbye at the doorstep. His hand stayed wrapped around hers until he couldn’t reach anymore.

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun”

— Jane Austen

Chapter Text

“I remember when your name was just another name that rolled without thought off my tongue. Now, I can’t look at your name without an abundance of sentiment attached to each letter.”

— Jamie Weise

Spencer waited in the conference room for the briefing to start. He’d gotten to the office pretty early. Sleep had been a little difficult for him last night. He was reading the copy of Pride & Prejudice with Cecily’s notes, and drinking the stale bureau coffee.

Okay, he wasn’t really reading the text.

He was just reading her notes.

Her handwriting was adorable, all scrunched into the margins. The notes were written in purple, glittery gel pen. The frequency of her notes towards the beginning and the slant of the letters told him she’d been nervous. As he read on, he noticed her confidence increase as she got into it.

He was in the middle of reading her absolute evisceration of Mrs. Bennet when Garcia walked in to set up the briefing. Hotch and Rossi followed close after her, finishing up a short conversation as they came into the room. Hotch stepped over to speak with Penelope.

Rossi sat down next to Reid, and nudged Spencer’s arm.

“Hey kid,” he said. “How’d it go last night?”

“Really well!” Spencer said. “Cece wanted me to tell you thanks for the wine.”

“No problem. So am I to understand you’re no longer single?”

Spencer averted his eyes. “Not officially, we had a lot to talk about, and wanted to wait a bit. But, um…yeah, soon.”

“Well let us know when formal congratulations are in order.”

“I don’t need to wait for that,” Hotch said, butting into the conversation as he took a seat. “Congratulations, Reid. I’m very excited to meet her.”

Spencer smiled as Rossi made a face.

“Thanks, Hotch,” Reid said.

A few minutes later, the rest of the team filtered in, and the briefing began. The team dispersed afterwards, and Spencer walked up to Garcia.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked. “You’ve been really quiet this morning.”

“What?” Penelope said. “Oh, sorry. It’s…nothing.”

Spencer walked a few more steps with her, his fingers fiddling with the strap on his leather messenger bag. They reached the end of the hallway, and Garcia paused.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Spencer asked.

“We have a case,” Garcia said.

“Hotch wants me to build a geographical profile, and review case files, and it will take Anderson another…” and he glanced at his watch, “Five minutes and 29 seconds to set that up.”

Garcia pulled Spencer into the High Tech room and shut the door behind them. Spencer took a seat as she began to pace back and forth, taking sips of her coffee as she did.

“So I play this online game,” Penelope said. “It’s really fun. Monsters, magic, open world concept. You can play it solo, but in order to level up you have to go on quests, and the quests are meant to be done typically in groups of about 5, and I mostly just bounced between groups cause no one I knew played it. Anyways, I join this random group one day, and it’s really awesome, there’s a bunch of synergy, and everyone’s really good, and it was easy, kind of like how it is with you guys. And they invited me to join their discord server and we started going on regular raids together, and I was really excited because I was like ‘Yay! New cool people. Friends! You like friends!’”

Penelope paused. Spencer’s brow furrowed.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing!” she said.

“Obviously something happened or you wouldn’t be upset, Garcia.”

“We were all supposed to meet up at this diner last night, but then last minute, everyone canceled except for me and this one other player, so the two of us decided to still get food and talk and…”

Spencer quirked an eyebrow.

“Reid, they’re so hot,” Penelope said.

Spencer smiled as realization dawned on him, and he brought up a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Like unbelievably gorgeous,” Penelope said. “In that sort of effortless way that’s reserved for people in like books or movies or…for Morgan. And she’s funny too! And smart! And I thought I was good at this game, but her?! They play the most difficult class option, and still come out looking completely flawless! It’s unfair!”

Spencer regained his composure, and waited for her to finish.

“It was great,” she said. “It was perfect. We talked all night about our jobs and our hobbies. She’s a graphic designer and does macrame. I don’t even know what macrame is!”

“It’s the practice of tying a series of intricate knots with cotton or hemp rope for the purpose of artistic expression. It’s typically used to make banners or hanging planters.”

Garcia paused. “That actually sounds really cool…” then added: “How do you know that?”

“My mom took a class,” Spencer said. “She hated it.”

“Right. Okay. Anyways, I had a really good time, and it seemed like they had a really good time, and we’ve been messaging like all morning but I can’t tell if it’s flirty or not but I kind of hope it is, and I don’t know what to do because I really like her, but I don’t want to give her the wrong idea if they just see me as a friend and I also don’t want to ruin the group dynamic cause I really like these guys and want to be their friend.”

Garcia paused long enough to take a breath.

“Plus, they could all seriously use some IT support,” she added.

She turned to him, took another sip of her coffee and gave an exhausted shrug.

“Do you want my advice?” Spencer asked.

“Yes, please!”  she said, taking a seat. “Lay some genius on me!”

Spencer shot her a look. Penelope winced.

“Sorry, ignore that,” she said. “Just share your wisdom.”

“Tell them how you feel,” he said.

Garcia scrunched up her face.

“The worst thing she can do is not reciprocate, and you can go from there,” Spencer continued. “But you’re never going to know how they feel if you do nothing. I would hate for you to miss out on something really special because you were too afraid to voice what you want.”

Penelope sighed.

“I know,” she said. “I know, but that doesn’t magically make it any easier, ya know? And after everything with Kevin… What if it turns out horribly?”

“What if it turns out amazing?”

Garcia considered his words.

“I didn’t know how it was going to work with Cece,” he said. “I still don’t. I do know what I want, and so I tell her, and we’re making it work, and it’s really nice. But none of that would have happened if we didn’t talk about it.”

Garcia was quiet for a moment. Spencer watched as her body language shifted, signaling acceptance of her fate. Then she leaned over and bumped his knee with hers.

“I think I like smitten Reid,” she said.

Spencer smiled.

“To be clear, this would still be my opinion if I wasn’t with Cece. I would just have less relevant examples.”

Garcia laughed.

“Besides, don’t you usually go to Morgan for this kind of thing?” Spencer said.

“I do! He’s just busy right now,” Garcia said. “I don’t want to bug him.”

Spencer nodded, got up, and headed towards the door. He stopped before exiting and glanced over his shoulder at her.

“I hope it goes well,” he said. “I want you to be happy.”

Garcia smiled at him.

“Thanks, Reid,” she said. “That…that means a lot.”

* * *

“Ugh, I’m going cross eyed,” Cece mumbled to her cat.

She leaned back from her desk, hands bracing against the dark wood. Took looked up from where he was splayed across the top portion of her desk. After blinking at her a couple times, he settled back down, shut his eyes, and got back to his nap. Cecily rubbed her eyes before looking at her notebook again. After a couple seconds of useless staring, she closed it, stood up, grabbed her phone and headed out of her library.

She walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch. She thumbed through her notifications; a couple of emails, work related texts from Zoe that she ignored, good morning text from Spencer. She smiled over that last one.

Just make this man your boyfriend already , Cece thought to herself. In a voice that sounded suspiciously similar to Zoe’s. She shook her head.

Cecily sent Spencer a witty response, her smile growing wider as she imagined him reading it on the other end. Then she called Zoe.

“Let me guess,” Zoe said. “You called cause you couldn’t be bothered to read my texts?”

Cece chuckled. “You know me so well, oh genius friend.”

“Writer burnout?”

“The words come when they come. In this case they came at like 1AM. Last night.”

“And here I thought those dark circles under your eyes were cause you finally made that cute doctor your boyfriend.”

“And I thought this conversation was going to pass the Bechdel test so I guess we’re both disappointed.”

“Does the Bechdel test even work if I’m not a woman?”

Cecily opened her mouth to retort, and then closed it again.

“Actually, that’s a good point,” she said. “I’ll have to google that.”

Zoe laughed.

“Anyways,” Cecily said. “No, Spencer is not my boyfriend yet. I’m working on it. And speaking of work…I’m assuming you had things to tell me about ours. Which I will happily listen to, but uh, anything that’s said here, you’re going to have to also send me an email about it.”

Zoe considered her proposition. Then they shrugged.

“I was gonna email you later regardless,” they said. “Okay. Where you wanna start?”

“From the top!” Cecily said.

“Your tweaks for Destiny’s Call have been great so far,” Zoe said. “But the consensus from everyone is that it needs more…spice.”

Cece groaned.

“Fuck,” she said.

“Yeah, bitch, they really need to.”

Zoe laughed at their joke, while Cece rolled her eyes.

“I know it needs to happen,” she said. “I’ve been ratcheting up the tension to like a gazillion, but it doesn’t feel right yet! I want it to be earned!”

“I’m not gonna tell you how to do your job,” they said. “Just promise me they’re gonna get down and dirty soon?”

“I don’t know if it’ll be soon, but I promise I’ll make it happen.”

“...Good enough. Trinity will be giving you her edits on the treatment and pitch for Bonedust . Should be in your inbox by the end of the day. I want you to keep Stars Crossed as your main focus for now so that we don’t fall behind again, but take a look at those edits when you have a chance so I can get back to shopping that around.”

“Heard.”

“I have a few really good leads on that new series so I’m hopeful.”

“That is good to hear,” Cecily said.

“I’ll write up an email and shoot it off to you,” Zoe said. “I have a lunch appointment in like an hour, and some other stuff to finish up before then so I gotta go. I love you. Get some sleep.”

“Love you too!”

Zoe clicked off the call. Cece saw a notification from Spencer pop up. She closed her eyes without responding, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It was a Friday night. Spencer had just made it back home from a case, and now he was sitting on the floor of Cece’s living room drinking tea and beating her at Scrabble. He’d tried to warn her that he’d never lost a game of Scrabble in his life, but she still insisted on trying to best him. They were ten minutes into the game, and he already knew she didn’t stand a chance.

Spencer took a sip from his mug as he looked at Cece across the table. Her face scrunched in concentration. Her blue eyes were sharp, bright, focused. They flitted between the board and her tiles. Spencer watched an idea flash across her face and the tension of her expression broke. He smiled. Cece placed her tiles down, but he kept watching her.

“Annnnnd that’s 18 points,” Cecily said. “What’s that put me at?”

Cece glanced up when he didn’t respond, and caught him staring at her. She smiled.

“Spence? My score?” she said.

“Sixty-nine,” he said, after blinking a few times.

“And yours?”

“One-o-eight.”

Cece sighed and picked up her tea.

“I suppose you did warn me,” she said. “It’s your turn.”

Spencer dug into the bag for more tiles and placed them on his holder. Cece took her turn.

“You have really pretty eyes,” Cece said.

Spencer paused in the process of laying down tiles. He took a breath before answering.

“Thanks,” he said. “So do you.”

Cecily smiled, and ran a hand through her hair. Her dark purple curls fell around her face. Spencer took up his tea cup again as they continued to play the game, each taking turns to play tiles and sounding out their scores so he could keep track of their running totals.

“What’s your favorite color?” Cecily asked.

“Cerulean,” he said.

“Blue wasn’t good enough for you?”

“Blue is perfectly fine,” Spencer said. “But if I’m going to have a favorite, I’m going to be accurate.”

Cecily smiled. Spencer glanced up to study her for a moment, and then focused back on the game.

“Why do you ask?” he said.

Cecily shrugged.

“Just curious,” she said. “I figured if I was gonna be your girlfriend, I should probably know your favorite color.”

He nodded. “Hmm.”

After a moment, he added:

“What else do you think you should know?”

“What else do you want me to know?” Cecily shot back.

“I want you to know everything,” Spencer said.

Cecily’s eyes softened as she looked across the table at him. Spencer caught her eye, and gave her a lopsided smile. Half an apology shone in his beautiful brown eyes, but she shook her head to dissuade the sorry before it crossed his lips. Spencer dropped his gaze, and ran a hand through his messy hair, but he was still smiling. He cleared his throat.

“Where would you like to start?” Spencer asked.

Cecily hesitated.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me just asking you a bunch of random questions?” she said.

“I’m sure,” he said, his voice gentle.

“Okay… And if you have any of your own, you can ask!”

Spencer smirked. “I know,” he said.

Cecily was silent for a moment, and he could see her trying to make up her mind on what to ask him first. He smiled to himself, sat back, stretched out his legs, and took up his tea cup again. Took jumped up onto the table, and Cecily grabbed him before he could disturb their game. She scratched him behind the ears. He harrumphed and settled down into her lap.

“Have you ever had a pet before?” Cecily asked.

“No, there was never enough time,” he said.

Cece frowned. She took a sip of her tea.

“How do you take your coffee?” she said.

“Cream, two sugars,” Spencer said, fingers dexterously positioning tiles across the board. “Though, that’s mostly because I’m used to drinking crappy bureau coffee.”

“Alright,” and she placed down her word. “If it’s not that?”

“If I got to choose? Double shot of espresso.”

Cecily laughed. “Just straight?”

“The only thing about me that is.”

“Fuck.”

Spencer smirked.

“Okay okay,” Cecily said. “Comfort…book? TV show? Movie? Media?”

“That’s so many!” he said with a smile.

“Sorry! I don’t know what you like best yet!”

Spencer took a sip of tea as he thought.

“Doctor Who, obviously,” he said. “Uhhh, The Narrative of John Smith by Sir Aurther Connan Doyle. I’m also partial to anything by Dostoevsky, but only in the original Russian. I don’t think I have a comfort movie.”

“Not even the extended editions of Lord of the Rings?” Cecily said.

“I can just read the books,” Spencer said with a shrug.

Cece gasped in mock horror.

“I mean, with the speed you read that makes sense,” she said. “But also movies!”

Spencer laughed. Cecily smiled over the noise. She took a sip of her tea.

“Do you have a favorite game?” Cece asked.

“Chess,” he said, immediately. 

Cecily laid down her tiles, and called out her score for that round.

“Chess was one of those things I always meant to learn at some point, and never got around to,” she said.

“Oh, you’ve never played?”

She shook her head. “Not really, no.”

Spencer’s fingers dug into the bag to retrieve more tiles. He picked at his nails for a moment, as a thought popped into his mind. It was a stupid idea, surely. And it would probably sound patronizing to even ask her. He could let it go. She was just making conversation.

Spencer felt her eyes on him, and looked up.

“Would you want to teach me?” Cecily asked.

“Yes!” he said.

A split-second later, he regretted his outburst and his cheeks flushed.

“Sorry, wow, let me sound more eager,” he mumbled. “I…would…love to teach you how to play chess.”

Cecily reached across the table, and took his hand. She smiled at him. Her smile was warm, inviting, and infectious. He found the corners of his mouth turning up the longer he looked at her. Gods , her eyes were so blue.

“First off, great. I will try not to be a terrible student,” Cecily said. “Second off, you don’t need to apologize. I…I like it when you get excited about things.”

“You do?” he asked.

Cecily nodded.

“It makes me feel like less of a dork because I also get really excited about things.”

Then a moment later, almost as an afterthought, and so quiet that at first he thought she was speaking to herself:

“And it’s really hot.”

Spencer smiled, and gave her hand a little squeeze. With his free hand, he placed more tiles down on the board.

“I also like when you get excited about things,” he said.

His voice was very low.

“Your eyes get all bright and you smile and it’s…it’s captivating. You’re captivating.”

Cecily blushed, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. He saw her smile, and duck her head, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thanks,” she said.

“I’m just stating the obvious,” he said.

At that, Cece got up, walked around the table, and knelt down next to him. Spencer’s eyes followed her the whole time. His breath caught in his throat as she brought her face close. She kissed him. His eyes slipped shut in appreciation. He felt his heart start to race as her fingers tugged on his hair, and danced down his neck.

After a moment, she pulled away. Spencer’s eyes opened again to look on her self-satisfied smile.

“Wh-what was that for?” he breathed.

“For being you,” Cece said.

“Oh.”

Spencer brought a hand up to tuck Cecily’s hair behind her ear. He followed through on the motion, and pressed his lips against hers again, his fingers dropping to cradle her face. Cecily sighed, sweet contentment in her voice. Spencer smiled.

Cecily twisted, and ended up sitting on the floor between his legs. She draped her legs over his thigh. Spencer hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around her waist. Cece pressed her face close to his. One of her hands fiddled with the collar of his shirt. He wondered if she could feel his heart race beneath her palm. Spencer swallowed.

“Cece, I…”

The rest of the sentence caught in his throat, silenced by the look in her eyes. His brain stuck.

I what? I can’t stop thinking about you. I count down the hours until I see you again. I want to know your thoughts and safeguard your hopes and witness your dreams and guard your secrets. I want to make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again.

I…I think I’m in love with you

…

No, that… She deserves so much more than “I think…” She deserves someone hopelessly and desperately and completely in love with her.

Spencer felt her hand on his cheek and blinked back to focus on her. Cece’s expression was gentle, her eyes questioning. He cleared his throat.

“I…I just wanted to know if we were gonna finish our game,” Spencer said. “I had a really good word lined up next.”

Cecily looked confused for a moment, as if she’d forgotten all about their game. She glanced back at the board, and then gave him a sheepish smile.

“Would you think less of me if I forfeited and declared you the winner?” Cece asked.

Spencer smiled. “No.”

“Okay, good. You win. I give up.”

He pulled her close, and kissed the top of her head. Cecily smiled, and curled into him. Spencer retrieved their tea mugs from the table, and the two continued sipping on the liquid as they cuddled.

“Do you have a favorite tea?” Spencer asked.

“Peppermint. It’s great cause the flavor is usually always consistent, and you don’t really need to add anything to it. You can just steep it and drink, or I’ve also just left the tea bag in as I’ve drank the tea. That’s yielded some interesting results.”

“Oh?”

“It’s only a problem when I get so caught up in something that I just forget the tea exists.”

“You do that too?!”

“Are you kidding me? All the time! My library is practically a graveyard of half-finished mugs most days. Oh my god! I haven’t shown you my library! Or the rest of my house. Shit! I should do that. We should do that.”

Cecily moved to get up. Spencer applied the barest amount of pressure with the hand still around her waist, and she stopped.

“In a minute,” he said.

Cece smiled and sat back down. She leaned into him again. She set her tea cup down and brought her now free hand up to rest on his shoulder. Her fingertips grazed along his chest with the movement. Spencer didn’t have time to register the sensation before she stole all of his attention with a seemingly careless question.

“What, do you like this or something?” Cece asked.

Her face was so close and her voice was so heady and her smile was so inviting. Spencer bit on his bottom lip to keep from whimpering. He dropped his eyes and swallowed. A few seconds later, he felt her cool fingers brush against his now warm cheek. He took a deep breath and dared to meet her eyes again.

“ Yes . Iiiiiiii like this…a lot…” he managed to say, unsure of how much desire seeped into his voice and not really caring.

He dropped his eyes again, and tried to clear his throat.

“Do…do you like this?” Spencer asked.

“Mmhmm,” Cece murmured.

Spencer shut his eyes, and drank in the sound. After another beat she added, in a more quiet voice:

“I would like it a little more though if your hand was resting on my thigh instead of —“

His mug hit the floor before Cecily finished her thought. Spencer’s hand slid up her leg until his long fingers curved around her thigh. He tensed just a little, just enough, so his fingers could find purchase on her muscle. The whole time, Spencer studied her face, smoldering brown eyes examining every detail. How her eyelids fluttered closed. How her neck curved back. How her lips parted, so slight and perfect.

He wondered for a moment if Cece would want him to slide his hand between her legs. To have his thumb make slow, soft circles on her inner thigh. If she would deign to allow her pleasure to drip down his fingertips.

Heat boiled up inside him. Desire; hot and new and overwhelming.

All she had to do was ask .

Cecily’s eyes flicked open then and she stared at him. She knew. She had to know. Exactly how he felt. How he was at her complete and total mercy.

And her look asked him to wait.

So Spencer steadied his heartbeat, and quelled the fire inside of himself. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, and kissed her, content to be close. To be near her.

“Better?” he asked, whispering in her ear.

“Much,” Cecily whispered back.

And Spencer’s heart soared.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, huddled together on her floor holding on to each other trading kisses and smiles. Not that it mattered. With every second that passed, Spencer became more convinced that he belonged here.

That he belonged with Cecily.

That they’d be doing this forever.

“He stirred my soul in the most subtle way and the story between us wrote itself.”

— Nikki Rowe

Chapter Text

“She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.”

— Rainbow Rowell

The art museum was quiet for a Sunday afternoon. The walls of the various galleries sat in muted tones, displaying historic and iconic works. Cecily and Spencer meandered through, hand in hand. She wore a sage green ruffled sundress, a cream colored cardigan that was three sizes too big for her, and brown boots. He wore his typical khakis and converse; a dark grey tshirt (that was way too soft) and a blazer. The blazer had the little patches over the elbows, which Cecily thought was the perfect touch.

Cecily found it hard to concentrate on any of the actual art. Spencer took up all of her focus. She shifted between being lost in their conversation or being lost in his eyes. If every professor in college were like him, she might have been persuaded to go.

They lingered in a section with impressionist paintings. Blended pastel colors layered to form snapshots of nature or beautiful people frozen in time. Cecily stopped in front of one depicting a footbridge over a pond. Weeping willows and wildflowers framed the water and the bridge.

“See here, with the hesitation in the brush strokes?” Reid said, pointing to a section of the painting. “Clearly part of the artist’s earlier work. And the blending of the colors isn’t as vibrant as it could be, which is most likely due to technique not pigmentation.”

Cecily smirked.

“Yeah, okay,” she said. “But how does it make you feel?”

Spencer scratched the side of his head. He bit on his fingernail as he stared at the painting. Cecily glanced towards him. She smiled over his puzzled expression.

“Art is an emotional medium,” she said. “It’s an experience. Understanding the technique and the history behind the work is all well and good, but in the end, I don’t think it’s really about that. It’s about what the artist was trying to say. The feeling their piece evokes.”

Cecily hooked a finger under Spencer’s chin, and directed his face towards her. He blinked, startled for a moment, and then smiled when he focused on her face. She returned the smile, and let go of his chin.

“It’s less about this… ” she said, touching his temple with her index finger. “And more about this… ”

She pointed to his heart, and then let her hand linger on his chest. Spencer smiled. He leaned in close to her and rested his forehead against hers. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose. Then Cecily directed his attention back to the painting.

“Try not relying so heavily on that beautifully big brain of yours,” Cece said. “Just say what you feel. First thing. Go!”

Spencer paused for a moment as he examined the painting again.

“Peace,” he murmured. “There’s a sense of peace. Tranquility.”

Then, after another moment, he added:

“The blues remind me of your eyes.”

Cece took Spencer’s hand again, and gently squeezed it. He looked away from the painting back to her.

“What do you feel?” Spencer asked.

Cecily looked at the painting, her head tilted to the side.

“I feel…possibility,” she said. “Life. The wind in the branches, the disappearing path, the ripples in the water. I want to go there. I want to explore. I want to uncover the magic inherent in nature.”

After another moment, Cece continued walking around the gallery. Spencer glanced at the painting one last time before moving to join her. He caught up to her in a few strides, took her hand again, and threaded his fingers through hers.

They continued moving about the museum. Eventually, they reached the back galleries, and decided to rest. They sat down on a small ottoman in an out of the way spot. It was positioned in front of a giant painting depicting a seascape. Cecily brushed a stray curl out of Spencer’s face as he prattled on about technique and pigments and the history of the artist. She listened. Her eyes scanned the painting. Cece rested her head on his shoulder as Spencer paused for a moment.

“I’ve been talking non-stop for the past half hour,” he said, after a moment.

“…Yeah. Is there a question in there?” Cece asked.

“Why haven’t you interrupted me?”

Cece blinked.

“Why would I interrupt you?” she asked.

She sounded incredulous. He coughed.

“I suppose because everyone normally does. With a joke, or an insult, or to tell me to stop or get to the point.”

Cecily scrunched up her nose in disdain.

“Fuck that,” she said. “I love listening to you.”

Cece picked her head up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Talk as long as you want.”

Spencer blushed. Cece smiled, and returned her head to its perch on his shoulder. A few minutes later, he moved his head to rest on top of hers. The whole time was spent in silence.

“No more fun facts?” Cecily asked, her tone teasing.

“Would you believe it if I said you made me speechless?” Spencer asked.

Cecily let out a short laugh. “No, I don’t think I would.”

She felt his thumb gently caress her hand. Spencer let his words dangle in the quiet between them. Cece’s heart fluttered in her chest.

“Spence, I…” she started, and then quit.

Unsure of what to say next, her mind filled in the blank with a thousand and one answers.

I want the time I spend with you to last forever.

I think we fit together as perfectly as goddamn puzzle pieces.

I can’t believe you just told me I made you speechless like it was nothing; like you mean that; like I actually have that much of an effect on you.

I think our souls have blended together as seamlessly as the colors on this canvas, and I can’t wait for the day our bodies crash into each other like the painted waves crash against the painted shoreline.

Spence, I am falling in love with you.

…

And I’m scared.

Because what if you don’t love me back?

Cece took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. She wiped a few stray tears away.

“Everything okay?” Spencer asked, his voice filling with concern.

“Everything’s perfect,” Cece whispered.

 Cecily was forced to pick her head back up when Reid shifted his position to look at her. He cradled her cheek in the palm of his free hand, and guided her face over to his. Cece thought of avoiding his gaze, but couldn’t bring herself to turn away from him. Spencer glanced around the gallery, to make sure they were alone, and then pressed his lips against hers. His kiss was gentle, sweet, and so utterly comforting Cecily forgot herself.

“Okay…” she murmured when he broke off the kiss. “ Now everything’s perfect.”

Spencer smiled. The fingers of her free hand brushed against his cheek.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he whispered, searching her eyes.

Cecily nodded.

“I just…got in my head too much,” she said. “You know how that is.”

Spencer leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Cece closed her eyes and focused on the warm sensation. After a moment, he stood up.

“We’ve had a long day,” Spencer said. “Let’s go home.”

Cecily stood up, her hand still in his, and stepped close to him. She looked up at him. He looked down at her.

“But I don’t want to say goodbye,” she said.

“Who said anything about goodbye?” Spencer said. “We still have a whole evening to spend together.”

Cecily smiled up at him. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Spencer tightened his grip on Cece’s waist and held her close. After a few seconds, she broke off the kiss. He couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s go home, but we’re stopping at the gift shop on the way out.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said as if there could be no other option.

Cecily smiled, and the pair began walking back towards the museum entrance.

“Do you want me to drive?” Spencer asked.

“You know how to drive stick?” Cece responded.

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but Cecily held up her finger.

“Don’t answer that,” she said. “Stupid question. I knew the answer as soon as I asked it.”

He did not say anything in response, but did give her a lopsided grin.

“Yes,” Cece said, answering his initial question. “That would be lovely.”

Spencer pulled her into him, and kissed the side of her head.

“Happy to help,” he said.

She threw her arm around his waist, and stayed tucked into his side as they walked. After perusing the gift shop for what Cecily deemed an adequate amount of time, they headed back to Cece’s house. They made dinner, and she gave him an impromptu tour of her house. After eating, they adjourned to her library. Cecily started up a small fire, and reclined on the green velvet couch near the fireplace. Reid had snagged her copy of Fellowship of The Ring off her shelf. He rested his head in her lap and started to read the volume out loud as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“No, you have to do different voices for each of the characters,” she said.

“I’m not Andy Serkis, Cece,” he said. “You’re going to be disappointed.”

“You have toooooo.”

He sighed, but still smiled up at her.

“Alright,” Reid said. “For you. But this stays between us!”

Cecily smiled in triumph and settled back into the couch. Spencer cleared his throat, and started again.

“ ‘Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,

Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

One Ring to rule them all. One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie… ’”

She kissed his forehead as he kept reading, and let the sound of his voice conjure images of Middle Earth as she stared into the fire.

“As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.”

— John Green

Chapter Text

“When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.”

 — Giuseppe Verdie

A few weeks of cases dragged by for Spencer. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t still engrossed by his work. He was. But all the time spent working was less time spent with her . Even then, it wasn’t as if he needed to spend all his time with her, and he didn’t, and he knew the quantity didn’t matter to either of them. But each time a case wrapped or a final report got sent, Spencer found himself looking forward to leaving.

They settled into a routine, Cecily and Spencer. Figured out the bounds of this thing they had together. She liked soup. And long walks in the woods behind her house. And she definitely had a favorite tea mug even though she insisted she loved them all equally. She liked sending him pictures of Took in places where Took definitely shouldn’t be, and she left hours long voice messages for him to listen to at night when they couldn’t talk on the phone because he had mentioned once that he loved having her voice be the last sound he heard before falling asleep.

She smiled in triumph every time she made him laugh, like she’d won some grand achievement, and made goofy faces every time she caught him staring at her. He knew each tiny fleck of green that hid in her blue eyes. He knew the secrets she imparted to him by the quivers in her voice. He knew how she fit into his side; how their fingers aligned; how he was meant to stand beside her.

It all felt so terribly natural.

And that thrilled him.

So when he finally got another weekend off, of course he spent as much time with her as he could. On Saturday, they got brunch, and went to the library. She was patient enough to experience that ordeal with him, and didn’t comment on the massive amount of books he took home. On Sunday, they went to a farmer’s market near her house, and now Spencer stood in her kitchen making muffins. The muffins were lemon and raspberry. Because raspberries were her favorite.

Cecily sat on the kitchen counter, an already half-devoured muffin in her hands. She refused to wait for them to cool down so the drizzle of icing melted onto her fingertips. Her happy smile reassured Spencer that she didn’t care about the sticky mess. Cecily shot him a look which clearly said “don’t comment” as she licked her fingers and took another bite. Spencer just smiled and kissed her on the forehead.

Took tried for the upteenth time to jump onto the counter by the baked goods, so Spencer scooped him up. He also grabbed a book he was in the middle of reading, and a muffin that he also started eating. He expected the cat to wriggle out of his grasp. Took, however, decided that lying across Spencer’s arm was the best place to be. Especially when Spencer was standing next to the kitchen window and the lovely sun was spilling into the room. So Spencer found himself absently scratching the cat, as he held his muffin in one hand and his book in the other. He used the muffin hand to keep track of his place on the page. He thought it was probably a horribly awkward sight to behold.

“Spence?” Cecily said.

“Hmm?” he replied, not looking up from his book.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

Spencer froze. He closed his book, and turned to her. Cecily was looking at him like her whole world hung on his answer. Her blue eyes were soft and serious. Spencer’s heart thudded in his chest. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His thoughts ran in every direction, but he couldn’t seem to catch any of them long enough to form a sentence.

The oven timer dinged.

He didn’t move. Just looked at her.

After a few more electronic beeps of the timer, Spencer dropped Took on the floor, put the book down, and pulled the muffins from the oven. He set the pans down on the cooling rack. Then he stepped back for a moment, and paced back and forth on the kitchen floor. She regarded him with an amused smile.

After a few more seconds, he stopped moving. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he faced her.

“….yes,” Spencer stammered. “… yes . Yes. But I… I…I…I thought we were waiting for a special moment…or something?”

Cece dropped her eyes.

“Well, yeah,” she said. “But every moment with you is special.”

Spencer thought his knees might give out.

“Is this really happening?” he asked.

Cecily nodded. He blew out a breath. Cece smiled again.

“Come here,” she said, motioning for him to step towards her.

He obeyed without a second thought, and found himself face to face with her. His hands braced the counter on either side of where she sat. A soft smile spread across his lips as he stayed close to her.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Cece said. “And everytime you leave, I immediately start wishing you were back again.  And sometimes I wonder how I spent all of my life without you. And I know it’s not all fancy or prepared or out of the ordinary, but I don’t want to waste any more time being apart.”

Spencer vaguely registered her hands adjusting his shirt collar, but his focus was locked on her face.

“I really wanna be your girlfriend, Spencer,” Cece said.

Reid smiled so wide he thought his jaw might break.

“I really want to be your boyfriend,” he said.

Then, in a rush of words, Spencer added:

“My answer was always going to be yes, Cece. How could it not be? You’re…the most wonderful, thoughtful, beautiful, amazing person. I have spent my whole life consuming knowledge like air, and I still don’t know what forces or fates or sheer dumb luck lead me to you, I don’t think I’ll ever know, but, I’m so grateful. Being with you is…it’s as easy as breathing.”

The look on Cecily’s face almost stopped his heart. She looked so happy.

“Kiss me,” she said.

“Yeah, okay.”

Spencer leaned forward, and met her lips. He closed his eyes, and let her take control. Felt her fingers tugging on his hair. Felt their tongues twisting and turning. Savored the way that she tasted. Felt the flex of her muscles as his hands pulled down her back and she pressed closer to him. Felt the neurons in his brain being rewritten with every happy sound that left her mouth and entered his.

She didn’t stop. So neither did he. There weren’t words for this. There weren’t thoughts for this.

He lost track of everything. Everything except for her . Where she ended and he started and Spencer wondered how muddy the space between them could get until there wasn’t any space at all.

And then he vaguely registered that she’d stopped kissing him, and blinked open his eyes.

“You gonna get that?” Cecily gasped.

She sounded breathless. Which made sense. He was trying to catch his breath too. But what had she…? Spencer blinked again, and dully registered the sound of his phone ringing. He reached into his back pocket and glanced at the caller ID.

Garcia.

“Son of a bitch!” he said.

Cece chuckled. Spencer managed to get his breathing under control, and answered the phone.

“Hey, Garcia,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as normal as possible.

It was very hard to sound normal when Cecily had her lips pressed against his neck in the most possessive kiss he’d ever experienced.

“Hotch needs everyone to – are you okay?” Penelope asked.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m a little…distracted…at the moment is all.”

He shot Cece a look. His girlfriend gave him a devilishly innocent smile. Spencer dug his fingers into the small of her back by way of response. Cecily stifled a laugh by burying her face in his shoulder.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything!” Garcia said.

“Noooo… No, it’s… Cece just asked me to be her boyfriend,” Reid said before he could think to stop himself.

“OH MY GOD WHAT?!”

Her exclamation was loud enough for Cecily to hear, and smile over.

“Yeah,” Spencer said. “She asked me a little bit ago.”

“Oh my god!” Garcia said. “Oh. My God! You said yes, right?!”

“Of course I said yes,” and his eyes locked onto Cece’s face.

Garcia squealed. “Ahhhhh! I’m so happy for you, Reid! I need all of the details right now! Was it super romantic? Were you speechless? Did you know it was gonna happen? Was it like a scene from one of her books?!”

Cece chuckled. Garcia heard the noise.

“Oh my god, is she…is she there right now? Can she hear me? Am I on speaker? For the love of smut, Reid, I better not be on speaker!” Penelope said.

“You’re not on speaker, Garcia,” Spencer said. “But, yes, Cece is right next to me.”

“Oh so this like just just happened! I am so sorry! This is a terrible first impression for me to have on Cecily Duke, especially since she’s your girlfriend now. If I had known, I would’ve stalled on calling you. Hotch just said it was urgent so I was going down my list and –”

Spencer scrunched his face in frustration.

“–Garcia…the case…” he said.

“Right! Sorry. Um, you need to come into work. Right now. It’s a child abduction. Pretty bad. Time sensitive. All that. I’m sorry. Tell Cece I’m sorry.”

Spencer glanced over at Cece, whose laughter had been reduced to an amused smile.

“Your apologies have been noted,” he said. “I’m going to be late. But I will get there as soon as I can.”

“Heard. Understood. I will cover for you.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

Spencer clicked off his phone to another string of apologies from Penelope. Cecily smiled at him when he turned back to her.

“I like her,” Cece said. “We’re gonna be best friends.”

Spencer laughed. “I think…she would like that.”

Neither one of them spoke for a moment. Reid took a deep breath, and then kissed Cecily. She threw her arms around his neck as his hands braced her back. He broke the kiss off after a few seconds and rested his forehead against hers.

“I have to go,” Spencer said.

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out, genius,” she teased.

“I will make this up to you.”

Cece gave him a confused look.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“We’re in the middle of something,” Spencer said, his voice perfectly sincere. “I’m going to make it up to you since I have to leave.”

Cece smiled, and kissed him very gently.

“Okay,” she said. “But, for the record, all I wanted was for us to be official or whatever so, as far as I’m concerned, this was… perfect .”

“I know,” Spencer said. “But I don’t want to leave. And you’re important to me. This is important to me.”

Cecily smiled and kissed him again.

“We’ll plan something for when you get back,” she said. “Now come on. Let’s pack up some of these muffins for you to take to your phone friend so she knows I don’t hate her.”

“If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one."

—Michelle Hodkin

Chapter Text

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”

— Jane Austen

Dr. Spencer Reid was the best boyfriend.

He never let her hand be empty when they walked together. His date ideas were always thoughtful, and painstakingly planned. He left scribbled notes on random scraps of paper and stuck them in the books she read. He always asked about her work and quietly read some book of his whenever she needed time to write; nearby, of course, and never looking over her shoulder. He smiled over discovering she always kept a notebook on her, and showed her the notepad he used to plot out math problems when he got frustrated. He liked to make pancakes, but he wasn’t very good at it. One night, they stayed up so late talking that he decided to stay over, and they fell asleep in each other's arms, so now they traded sleepovers. Because some seconds were too precious to miss. And because falling asleep in the other’s embrace felt like home and neither one knew what to do with that, they just didn’t want it to end.

He kept a stock of her favorite tea at his apartment.

He gave the best forehead kisses.

This had arguably been one of the best months of Cecily’s life.

And she still couldn’t believe how lucky she was.

Cecily sat on the couch in her library, surrounded by her summoning circle of writing materials. Her four cups of tea (all in various stages of consumption) stood silently on the end table, couch cushions, and the floor...judging her. The blanket she’d long since discarded lay draped in a half circle behind her. The writer in question stared at the blank journal page, pen resting in the fold, and held her head in her hands. Her cell rang. Cecily answered without looking.

Spencer’s voice came through the phone. “Hey, how’s the writing going?”

“It would be less painful for me to run my head into a brick wall. Repeatedly. With force ,” Cece said.

“Please don’t do that.”

Cecily gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Fiiiiiiine,” she said. “I won’t. Since you asked so nicely… Please tell me you’re going to be back soon. I could use the distraction.”

“Is that the only reason you wish I was back?” he asked.

The drop in his voice made Cece sit up. She closed her various notebooks and her laptop and tossed them aside so she could focus on the conversation.

“Of course not,” she said. “But are you alone enough for me to say how much I miss you?”

Spencer sighed.

“With your tongue? Hardly,” he said.

Cece could practically see the expression on his face. Could picture how he was blushing; how his fingers fiddled with the edge of a book or his sweater.

She imagined how, if she were there, she would tilt his head towards hers so she could kiss him. And lost all other trains of thought entirely.

After a moment, Spencer cleared his throat.

“We’ll be back in about five minutes,” he said. “Would picking me up from work be enough of a distraction for you? We can grab dinner. I can’t come over tonight, but I still want to see you.”

“I’ll be there,” Cece said instantly.

He made a pleased noise on the other end of the line. A few seconds later, Spencer added:

“Since you’re going to be around, do you want to maybe meet everyone?”

A happy smile spread across Cecily’s face, and her mood picked up.

“You mean I can finally be introduced to your infamous team?” she asked. “Did I hear you correctly?”

“I wouldn’t really call them infamous. Do I talk about them like they're infamous? If I do, please don’t tell them. I’ll never live that down.”

“You don’t, I was exaggerating for effect. But, seriously, I’ll get to meet them?”

“If you want to,” he said. “Hotch needs us all to wrap up some paperwork so everyone should be around when you get here.”

“Yes! Ah! Okay. Okay. Okay. Um, I can do this. Yeah, I can… I have to go get ready. I’ll see you soon.”

Cecily clicked off the call.

* * *

Reid rushed out of the bullpen area, and stood in the elevator bank waiting for the doors to open. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as his nerves tightened in the pit of his stomach.

What if this was a horrible idea?

What if they saw something he didn’t and ruined everything?

What if it went so well that he finally admitted he was in love with her?

Ding!

He jumped as the elevator chimed and its doors opened. Cecily was the only passenger. They locked eyes, and she smiled at him, and he forgot all about his worries.

Cecily stepped out of the elevator, and made a beeline for Spencer. When she reached him, Cece wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug, and buried her face in his chest. Spencer tucked his head to rest near hers as his arms came up to hold her close.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you too,” he said.

Spencer kissed the top of her head. After another few seconds, Cece stepped back.

“Do I look okay?” she asked. “I was trying to look nice, and I think I might have overdone it, but I also wanted to make sure your friends know you have great taste and also okay, maybe make them curious over how you could pull me so I can brag about you a little. How did I do?”

Cecily twirled. Her chiffon skirt fanned out around her. It was dip dyed in a dark purple ombré, the tips of the skirt were lighter in color and the color darkened to black at the waistband. She had paired it with a loose, black cropped tank top, and doc martens. Her hair was freshly curled, and one side was pinned back from her face with one of those butterfly clips she had worn to their picnic. A tote bag was slung over one shoulder.

“You look beautiful,” Spencer said so quickly it could have been a reflex.

Cece smiled. He noticed the slight blush in her cheeks.

“That’s what you always say,” she said. “This is important. I want to look nice.”

“You do!” Spencer said, taking her hand. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Cecily stepped closer. She picked at one of the buttons on his shirt.

“I…um…mmm,” Cece whispered.

Her eyes trailed up his torso and locked onto his lips. Spencer tilted his head down towards her and waited.

“Oh, there you are Reid! I needed to ask you about —“

Spencer sighed. Cecily smiled up at her boyfriend, and then leaned around him to look at the speaker. Spencer turned, but kept hold of her hand as he did. Garcia, the perpetrator of the interruption, stood frozen in shock. Her mouth was open. Then, all of a sudden, she snapped back to life. Her head swiveled between the two.

“Th- th- w…” Penelope stammered.

She shot a disbelieving look at Reid, who had a very guilty smile on his face. Eventually, Garcia’s attention focused on Cece.

“Y…you’re Cecily Duke,” she said. “You’re Cecily Duke.”

Cecily smiled. “Uh, yes, I am. You can call me Cece. I’m gonna go out on a limb here, and say you’re Penelope?”

Garcia smiled. “Yeah, that’s me! …. hi .”

Cece laughed. “Hi.”

“Sorry. Um. I…wow, you’re….you’re my favorite author. I love everything that you do. I…I can’t believe this is happening. Oh my gosh! If I had known, I would have prepared.”

“It’s really okay,” Cece said. “And thank you. It’s an honor to have my work mean so much to someone.”

Penelope shot another look at Spencer. He shrugged, the same grin on his face. There was an awkward silence, and then Cecily stepped forward. She reached into her tote bag, and took out a small stack of books tied together with some ribbon.

“So I was told ,” and Cece glanced back at Spencer. “I was told this would be okay. And that you would appreciate it. Which is the only reason why I’m doing this, and if it’s bad or tacky please tell me immediately so I can die of embarrassment. This is for you.”

Cece handed the stack of books to Penelope. The computer genius reached out, a dazed and ecstatic expression on her face, and accepted the parcel.

“It’s all the Stars Crossed books,” Cece said. “But they have different covers. I got samples of all the different designs that I didn’t end up using but I kept them cause it was still, ya know, my book. They’re one of a kind. Oh, and I signed them.”

Garcia blinked. She looked around over Cecily’s shoulder to talk at Reid.

“She’s wonderful,” Garcia said to Reid.

Then she turned back to Cece. “You’re wonderful . This is…literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever done. I love it so much and I will cherish these forever. I can’t believe I didn’t get you anything!”

Cecily smiled. “I’m just glad you like it.”

Garcia returned Cecily’s smile.

“Ooh! Do you want to see my cave?” Penelope asked. “It has my whole computer set up. I designed it myself.”

“I would love to see that!” Cecily said.

“Sweet! It’s this way.”

Penelope gestured towards one end of the hallway, and Cecily stepped forward.

“I’ll be at my desk finishing some paperwork,” Reid said. “Please bring her back!”

“No promises, smart guy,” Penelope said, with a smirk.

“I’ll be back,” Cecily said over her shoulder.

She blew Spencer a kiss. Penelope stepped after her, and the author linked arms with Penelope as they walked.

“So I’m told I have you to thank for Spencer not being in the technological stone age,” Cece said.

“I taught him how to use gifs,” Penelope said. “And made sure he got a smartphone.”

Spencer smiled as he watched them walk away. He went back to his desk, and finished up his reports. As he closed up his case files, Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss came out into the bullpen. They were talking and laughing. Morgan came up behind Reid, pulled him into a half hug and ruffled his hair.

“Hey, pretty boy,” he said. “Hotch said he wants to see you.”

“Did he say what about?” Spencer asked.

“Nah, but I wouldn’t stress. Brass is just on his ass and he’s going over everyone’s reports with a fine toothed comb.”

“Yay us,” Prentiss murmured.

“I think Hotch is bearing the brunt of that,” Rossi said to her. “Or would you rather it be your ass on the line?”

“I think …I would rather get drunk tonight.”

“My girl,” Derek said, and they high fived. “Speaking of… Reid! We’re all grabbing dinner. You in?”

“Wh…uhhhh…” Spencer said.

“Don’t tell me you’re busy,” he said. “When’s the last time you hung out with us, huh?”

“Come on!” Prentiss said. “It’ll be fun. Please?”

“He’s too good for us now,” Rossi teased.

“What’s got you all tied up, pretty boy?” Morgan asked.

“That would be me!” Cecily said.

Everyone’s head swiveled around to look at Cece. She stood on the outside of the circle with Garcia nearby. Spencer cleared his throat.

“Uh, Morgan, Emily, Rossi…” Reid said. “This is Cece. My girlfriend.”

Cecily smiled, and waved. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you all.”

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Prentiss said, stepping around the desks to shake Cece’s hand. “You caused quite a stir around here. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Reid so flustered.”

“Aw really?” Cece said.

“He was like a little schoolboy.”

Cece glanced at her boyfriend.

“I wouldn’t say that…” Spencer said.

“No?” Morgan said. “What would you call it then?”

“I mean, regardless, I think this just means I get to tease you about it later, right? Spence?” Cece asked, shooting the man in question a devilish grin.

This drew out a few snickers from the crowd. Spencer leaned forward on his desk so he was angled towards Cece.

“I thought you were supposed to help with the teasing, not add to it,” Spencer said to her.

“All’s fair in love and war, kid,” Rossi said.

“Oh, be nice!” Garcia said.

“You’re Rossi, right?” Cece asked Dave.

“Last time I checked,” the man replied.

“I have a tiny little favor to ask you.”

The group shifted as Cecily stepped over to Rossi. Morgan went to stand next to Garcia. Cece dug in her book bag, and produced the copy of Rossi’s book that Reid had given her.

“So, I don’t know if Spencer told everyone this or not, but I’m a writer,” Cece said. “It was this really big dream of mine for as long as I could remember, and one of the things that first helped it feel real was someone asking me to sign a copy of my book. So now, whenever I meet a fellow author, I like to read something of theirs and pass on the…good feelings. Anyways, that was a very long winded explanation for me to ask if you would maybe sign this for me? Please?”

Cece held out the book towards Rossi.

“I told you I liked her,” Rossi said to the group.

Prentiss rolled her eyes. He took the book from Cecily.

“Of course,” Rossi said to Cece. “I’d be honored to sign this for you.”

As Rossi scribbled on the inside page, Morgan remarked: “She came prepared.”

“You have no idea…” Penelope said.

Morgan shot her a quizzical look.

“I’m a sucker for thoughtful gifts, okay?” Garcia said. “And she nailed me!”

This did nothing to appease Morgan’s confusion but the man didn’t press.

“Do you think she has anything in that magical tote for me?” Prentiss asked.

Spencer smiled as he listened to them all. His eyes wandered around the group until they rested on Cece. His girlfriend glanced up, and noticed him watching her. She smiled, and her eyes asked if she was doing okay. He gave her a hearty nod of approval. Rossi handed Cecily the book back.

“I should warn you though,” Rossi told Cecily. “You’re a little late to induct me into the society of writers.”

Cece laughed as she put the book back in her bag.

“No, I know,” she said. “From what I’ve seen, you’re quite prolific.”

“I try,” he said. “Did you enjoy it?”

Cece gave him a rueful smile.

“It was beautifully written!” she said. “But I am NOT a huge fan of the subject matter. A little too… murder-y for my taste.”

“Oh my god do you not like gross things either?!” Garcia said.

“I can’t stand it! I’m so squeamish!” Cece said. “Even getting my tattoos was a nightmare. I was such a scaredy-cat.”

“That ink on your arms is pretty cool though,” Morgan said. “Are those your only pieces?”

“No, actually,” Cece said.

Derek and Cece started swapping tattoo stories, and showing off their artwork. Spencer lost track of the conversation when Hotch tapped him on the shoulder. He stepped aside to confer with the unit chief. Hotch asked him a couple questions about the last few consults Reid wrote. He also went over Reid’s report for the case they just closed. Towards the tail end of their conversation, Hotch noticed Spencer’s focus being drawn back to the group.

“Sorry this is taking so long,” Hotch said.

Spencer made a vague noise of acknowledgement. A moment later, he turned back to Hotch. The older man recognized the curious expression in the younger man’s eyes.

“Hey Hotch?” Reid asked, his voice quiet. “How…how did you know you were in love?”

Hotch smiled, and closed the files in his hand so he could give Reid his full attention.

“Some things you just know,” he said.

Spencer frowned, and glanced back in Cecily’s direction. She was laughing over something Emily had just said. Hotch followed his gaze towards the young woman.

“I thought I knew what love was,” Spencer said. “I know, scientifically speaking, what it does to your brain and your body.”

“But?” Hotch prompted.

“I can’t really explain why it feels like I’ve loved her my whole life. Like my soul knew who she was. How if I had to choose between breathing and her, I would choose her.”

Reid looked at Hotch.

“What do you even do with that?” he asked the older man. “What do you call that?”

Hotch gave him a soft smile, and placed a hand on Reid’s shoulder.

“You know I don’t have answers for those questions,” he said.

Spencer sighed.

“Whatever it is, whatever you end up calling it, I have all the faith in the world you’ll figure this out,” Hotch said, his voice full of rock-solid reassurance.

Spencer turned back to look at Cece.

“She’s been through so much, Hotch,” Reid said. “I don’t want to get this wrong. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I know,” Hotch said. “But you will.”

Spencer’s expression grew serious.

“You will hurt her,” Hotch continued. “And she will hurt you. And the pain from both will be worse than any bullet you’ve ever taken. It’ll knock you flat on your ass.”

Hotch paused, a smile breaking his serious expression.

“But then you’ll help each other back up,” he continued. “You’ll apologize where apologizing needs to happen. And then you’ll move forward. Because despite whatever other knowledge you might possess, you know that life is so much better when you’re by her side.”

Hotch lapsed into silence, and studied Reid’s expression. It wasn’t resolved, but he could see the lad was more at peace. Hotch set all his files down on Reid’s desk, and bumped Spencer’s arm.

“Come on,” Hotch said. “Introduce me.”

“Wh—“ Spencer said, rising to his feet. “What about the reports?”

“They’ll keep till tomorrow.”

Hotch and Reid made their way over to the group. 

“Can you text me that website link?” Cece said to Morgan. “Penelope has my number, you can grab it from her. I’ve been trying forever to find a good light fixture for the dining room.”

“Yeah, sure absolutely!” Morgan said. “They have a great chandelier section. Their wall sconces are where it’s at though.”

“Don’t say that! I will totally redo the lighting in my entire library.”

Reid walked around to stand by Cecily, whereas Hotch joined the circle in between Morgan and Rossi. Cece made space for Spencer the second she realized he wanted to stand next to her. The back of their hands brushed against each other, and her fingers flexed out to meet his. Cece glanced over at her boyfriend.

“ Hey ,” she said, smiling at him.

“Hi,” Spencer said. “I, uh, wanted to introduce you to our boss.”

Cecily perked up. Hotch offered out his hand. She shook it.

“Aaron Hotchner,” he said. “But you can call me Hotch.”

“Cece,” she said.

“It’s great to finally meet you. Spencer’s been saying a lot of great things. And my wife is a huge fan of your books.”

“Your wife has good taste.”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Hey, Hotch, are you coming to dinner with us tonight?” Morgan asked.

Hotch glanced at his phone.

“Yeah, I think I should be able to,” he said. “I already told Hailey I was working late so she’s not expecting me. And I’m starving. Where are we going?”

“New burger place that just opened up around the corner.”

“I’m in!”

“Yay! Family dinner!” Garcia said. “You’re coming, right Cece?”

“Uhhhhh….” Cece said.

She glanced at Spencer, who was already looking at her.

“Your call,” he said. “I’m good with whatever.”

“Yeeeees,” Cece said to Penelope. “Yeah. We’re down. If everyone is alright with me crashing?”

“Can’t crash if you were invited,” Morgan said.

Cece smiled.

“The more the merrier,” Rossi offered.

“Does that mean you’re buying?” Prentiss asked Dave.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s not a no.”

Just then, JJ walked up to the group. She broke into the circle near Hotch.

“What’s all this about?” she asked, an amused smile on her face.

“Family dinner!” Penelope said. “You in?”

“I’ll text Will and let him know.”

Penelope clapped her hands. “All my favorite people in one place!”

Cece smiled, and then turned to JJ and offered her hand.

“You must be JJ,” Cece said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

JJ shook Cecily’s hand with a smile, but her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Likewise…?” she said.

“Oh! Sorry,” Cecily said with a laugh. “I’m Cece. Spencer’s girlfriend.”

JJ blinked in surprise. She turned to Reid.

“You have a girlfriend, Spence?” JJ asked.

Spencer gave her a lopsided grin, and ran a hand through his hair. He glanced at JJ and flicked his eyes towards Cece

“Yeah,” he said.

“Since when?” JJ asked.

“Excuse me?” Cecily said.

Cece and JJ locked gazes. JJ’s expression turned icy, and Cece’s remained questioningly defiant in response. Spencer swiveled between the two of them, his expression a scribble of hurt and concern. However, Prentiss was the one who decided to break the tension.

“We’re all meeting her for the first time, Jayj,” Emily said. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can still tease Reid for his lack of social skills in other aspects of life.”

“Good naturedly please!” Hotch said. “I don’t have time to write any of you up.”

JJ broke off eye contact, and forced a smile. Cece was still looking at JJ, but her expression had softened. Reid stared at Cecily, his eyes searching her face, asking if she was okay. She reached out to take hold of his hand. He squeezed her fingers gently, and she let go again.

“Alright, enough chit-chat,” Morgan said. “I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

“I’ll drive,” Prentiss said. “JJ, Rossi, you need a lift?”

The group moved towards the elevators.

“I should also be able to fit a couple people in my car besides me and Spence, if anyone else needs a ride,” Cece said.

“Ooh! Me!” Garcia said.

“You just gonna leave me hangin, baby girl?” Morgan said.

“What? No!” Garcia said. She turned to Cece, “Can he come too?”

“As long as you don’t mind squishing,” Cece said.

Garcia gasped, and dramatically flung an arm out towards Derek.

“My dream,” she said, her voice dripping in drama.

Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi decided to ride together. Hotch said he’d meet everyone there. As they stepped into the elevator, Spencer reached his hand out towards Cecily. She slipped her hand into his, and held tight.

* * *

“Okay okay okay!” Cecily said over the dull roar of the restaurant and their happy conversation. “I will buy the next round for whoever can tell me the best embarrassing story about Spencer.”

“We can only pick one?” Prentiss joked.

Spencer shot her a look.

“I’m kidding!” Emily said. “Okay, I’m not, but I say it with love!”

“This is an incredibly dangerous game,” Spencer said.

“ Yes ,” Cece said. “Would you like to help me judge?”

“No, I will not help you decide my most embarrassing moment! That is not happening!”

She leaned over to her boyfriend, and batted her eyelashes.

“ Please ?” Cece said.

Reid narrowed his eyes. Cecily brought her face even closer so their noses touched. Her smile widened. And Spencer folded like a roadmap.

“Okay…I’ll…help you,” he said.

Cecily beamed. Spencer blushed, and looked down for a moment. Cece sat back in her chair, and then realized everyone at the table was staring at them.

“Hooooly shit, did Reid just lose?” Morgan said.

“I didn’t lose!” Spencer said. And then, in a quieter voice: “I tactfully resigned.”

“I’ll be damned…” Morgan said.

The group all laughed. Cecily’s hand slid under the table, and she rested it on Spencer’s thigh. She squeezed his leg, and left her hand there to reassure him. Spencer glanced at her, and his smile reassured her he was fine.

Cecily took a drink and addressed the group again.

“Who wants to go first?” she asked.

“I will,” Hotch said, with a smile. “I don’t know if it’ll be the best, but it’s my favorite.”

Cecily leaned forward.

“There was one day when Reid came to work with his sweater vest, his cardigan AND his socks all inside out,” Hotch said. “Went the whole first 24 hours of that case with that outfit. He didn’t say anything so we all assumed he’d done it on purpose. No, he just ran late to work, and had thrown together an outfit. I believe you met the mayor like that, didn’t you?”

Cecily glanced back at Reid. The genius nodded his head to confirm. Cecily laughed.

“Oh my god,” she said. “How did you not notice?”

“Well, those clothes normally irritated me,” Spencer said. “I think it was the opposite of sensory overload. My brain didn’t register that anything was wrong so I just didn’t notice.”

Cecily laughed again.

“That’s pretty good,” she said.

“Alright my turn,” Rossi announced. “Two years ago. Dallas, Texas in July. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been in Texas, but it is hotter than Satan’s sauna out there on a good day. This was the middle of summer. So we’re getting off the jet, and get in our cars, and are on the way to the local field office. We’re blasting the AC, of course, because we don’t want to melt. Kid is sitting right under the vent. The second we step out of the car, his glasses fog up something terrible. Can’t see a thing. We’re all rushing inside cause the press is starting to swarm, and it’s turning into a mess. Kid takes off the glasses, steps after us, doesn’t see the curb, and wipes out. Just eats pavement. Glasses end up breaking.”

“Oh noooooo,” Cecily said, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Okay, both of those stories are good,” Emily said. “But I don’t think anything can top the time he had boyband hair.”

Cecily gasped.

“Boyband hair?” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Emily nodded, a sly grin on her face. Cecily looked back and forth between Emily and Spencer, all too excited by this new information. Spencer facepalmed.

“Please tell me someone has pictures!” Cecily said. “I have to see this.”

“Ask and you shall receive, soul sister,” Garcia said, pulling out her phone. “Give me two minutes.”

Garcia downed her drink, and started furiously scrolling on her phone. Cecily leaned back in her chair, and waited. The whole table watched Garcia.

Penelope was victorious. Of course. And it didn’t even take her the full two minutes.

“Voilá!” she said, brandishing her phone in Cecily’s direction.

Cece took the device. She squealed over the photo.

“You were so cute !” she said.

“I was cute?” Spencer said, his voice indignant. “Am I not cute now?”

“Yeah, but like…you’re hot now.”

Reid looked confused.

“The vibes are different,” Cece said, feeling like she had somehow put her foot in her mouth. “Like if Boyband Spencer smiled at me, I would like giggle and think it’s adorable. You smile at me, and I forget how to breathe. It’s not the same.”

She glanced back to meet Spencer’s eyes, and…forgot how to breathe. He was looking at her like they were the only two people in the world. Cecily smiled, and turned away. After taking a couple seconds to recollect herself, she handed the phone back to Penelope.

“Send that to me, please,” Cece said. “I am going to hang it on my fridge.”

Garcia smiled and nodded. Cecily turned to Emily.

“Thank you. For that,” she said. “Also, remind me to stay on your good side. You seem like someone who knows everyone’s secrets.”

Emily laughed.

“You have no idea…” the woman replied with a smile.

“Alright, I think I got mine,” Morgan said.

Everyone turned to look at Derek.

“I have to go with the day of no coffee,” he said.

Spencer hid his face in his hands, and groaned. Cece smiled over the reaction, and waited for Derek to continue.

“On this particular day,” Morgan said. “Pretty boy here could not, for the life of him, finish a single cup of coffee. Because he kept spilling it. Couldn’t keep it in his hands because he was always gesturing about, but every time he’d set it down he’d forget where it was and knocked it over. He broke two different mugs.”

“Actually, it was four,” Spencer corrected.

“Oh my bad! He broke four different mugs. After the tenth spill, we made him go take a nap.”

Cecily laughed. “You poor thiiiiiing,” she said to Spencer.

“The real poor thing was the book I ruined,” Reid said.

“That is a tragedy. Was it a good book?”

“I don’t exactly remember. I think it was one of my physics textbooks.”

He paused to take a sip of his drink, a lemon lime soda.

“Alright, lack of coffee and ruined books aside, who’s next?” Spencer asked.

“Penelope?” Cece asked, turning to her new friend with an excited smile. “You’ve been awfully quiet…”

“Mmm yeah,” Garcia said, bouncing her straw between her lips. “I’m going last.”

“That leaves…” Cece’s voice trailed off as she looked around the table. Her eyes locked on the only person who hadn’t shared, and her expression froze into a smile. “JJ.”

“I don’t really feel like playing,” JJ said, and took a long sip of her drink.

This was met with a chorus of disapproval from the entire BAU. Emily even threw a few table peanuts in JJ’s direction.

“I can’t think of any stories,” JJ said.

“Oh come on,” Rossi said. “Be a good sport.”

“Please?” Spencer asked her.

JJ looked at him for a long moment. Cecily noticed the way they stared at each other. Her fingers tensed around Spencer’s leg. Seconds later, she felt Spencer’s hand envelope hers beneath the table. JJ took another long swig of her drink, and put on a smile.

“I’m not quite sure how many years ago this was,” she said. “It was back in my press liaison days. We were working this case where we had to temporarily set up shop in this creepy old cabin in the woods. Electricity was spotty. House was all creaky. Anyways, um, we found out that Spencer is afraid of the dark.”

Cecily smirked. She bumped Reid’s elbow.

“Should I get you a night light, Spence?” she asked.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it again.

“I am not going to answer that,” he said.

This drew out a few snickers from the rest of the table. Cece turned back to Penelope.

“Best for last?” she said to the woman.

“The most embarrassing moment, in my oh so humble opinion,” Garcia said. “Would be the time he recognized the lines from the first valentine’s day poem because his mom read it outloud to him every year.”

“Woah,” Cece gasped. “There’s…there’s a lot to unpack there…”

“And we don’t have enough time to get into any of it,” Spencer said, his tone brooking no argument.

Cece sighed, and a disappointed look crossed her face. Garcia mouthed “I’ll text you” to her, and shot Cece a conspiratorial smile.

“I think that’s everyone,” Morgan said. “What’s the verdict, Big C?”

Cece surveyed the table, her eyes narrowing as she looked at each person.

“What do you think, Spence?” Cecily asked.

“I think embarrassment is a social construct designed to alienate certain people from other groups of people, and that not everyone understands social cues so no one should be punished for that,” Spencer said.

“Yes… But I meant about the stories. Who do you think has the best?”

Spencer paused for dramatic effect.

“Boyband hair,” he muttered under his breath.

“Ah ha!” Cece said. “That was my pick too. Emily, you win!”

Prentiss exclaimed her triumph to a few fake protests from the rest of the table. Everyone settled down when their food came. They all started eating, and the conversation turned to other topics.

* * *

Spencer glanced around the table as he finished the last few bites of his burger. Cecily seemed relaxed, and her smile was soft and content. This had actually worked. Everyone was getting along. Everyone was having a good time.

Well…almost everyone.

Reid glanced in JJ’s direction for about the twentieth time that night. She still wore a sour expression, but at least she wasn’t staring at them like they’d just kicked her favorite puppy. Spencer frowned. In retrospect, he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected. But it certainly wasn’t the icky feeling settling in his chest right now.

 A question from Hotch pulled Spencer out of his reverie.

“So how did you two meet?” Hotch asked. “Reid hasn't told us.”

“Oh this is actually a great story,” Cece said. “I got in a literary quote battle with him.”

“Now that’s embarrassing…” Rossi said.

“Yeaaaaaaaaah,” Cece said. “In my defense, I didn’t know! I was just wandering around the book faire, and see this really cute guy reading poetry, and before I could stop myself I quoted Chaucer at him. Thankfully, he recognized it, and quoted Shakespeare back at me, and then it kind of devolved from there. I googled him the next day, and felt so stupid I wanted to crawl under my bed and disappear. I was convinced he thought I was an idiot.”

“What did you think about her, pretty boy?” Morgan asked.

“Oh, I thought I was dreaming,” Spencer said. “Couldn’t believe my luck.”

He turned his head towards Cecily, and caught her eye.

“Accepting her date offer was the easiest decision I’ve ever made.”

“That’s so sweet,” Garcia said. “You guys are adorable!”

“I think so,” Cece said, her eyes still locked on Spencer.

Reid smiled at her. She smiled back at him. It made his heart pound. The conversation continued, and Cecily turned away from him. He sat back and listened, content to share in the revelry of his friends; grateful for the slight pressure of her hand on his leg.

"If you ever have need of my life, come and take it."

— Anton Chekhov

Chapter Text

“I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”

― Mary Shelley

Cece dropped Penelope and Morgan off at Quantico HQ after dinner. She asked Spencer if she could stay over, and he wholeheartedly agreed, and offered to drive. Now she sat in the passenger seat of her car as they sped through the night towards his apartment. Cecily kept the conversation pretty light, partially because she hadn’t seen Spencer for a few days and partially because she was trying to figure out the best way to voice what was on her mind.

Maybe she was overreacting?

Still, something in her gut told her there at least needed to be a conversation. Towards the tail end of the drive, Cece grew quiet. She mulled over the events of the night in her head. Spencer must have noticed. He turned towards her the second after he threw the car in park and cut the ignition.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m trying to figure out the best way to ask you about something without it being confrontational,” Cecily said.

Her voice was calm and even, despite feeling like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Spencer took a deep breath and let it out.

“Is it about JJ?” he asked, not meeting her eyes.

So there was something…

Cece tried to ignore the way her stomach churned. It was her turn to take a deep breath. She felt Spencer's hand take hers and for a split second Cecily didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or push him away entirely. She opted for the former.

“From the way that you talked about her, I just assumed she was your coworker or friend,” Cece said.

“She is!” Spencer said.

“Then why didn’t you tell her about me?”

A deafening silence hung between them. Spencer avoided her eyes again.

“Help me understand what’s going on,” Cecily said, trying to keep the desperate edge out of her voice. “I mean…”

Her voice trailed off as she fought to swallow the lump in her throat.

“She calls you Spence…”

Quiet with him had never felt uncomfortable before, but now the muted seconds ticked by and seemed to thunder in Cecily’s ears. She didn’t even know what to expect.

“JJ and I…” Spencer let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t even know… I used to have a huge crush on her. That’s all it was on my end; a stupid, boyish crush that I indulged for too long because it was easy and familiar. She was one of the first people at the BAU who took the time to actually get to know me. She made me feel…normal. At the time, that meant a lot to me. We did end up going on one date, but I could tell I was more into it than she was, so the whole thing turned into an awkward mess. We never really talked about it, and I didn’t want to pursue anything if she wasn’t interested, so I let it go even though I still had this crush on her. We became good friends, and we helped each other through some very hard things. I’ll admit that at times, it was confusing. But I didn’t say anything because I didn’t feel like getting my heart broken. Um, and then she had another guy’s kid, and ended up marrying him. Which felt like a slap in the face, even though there supposedly wasn’t anything between us. So I took a step back, and evaluated my life and what I wanted and what kind of a relationship would be fulfilling for me. And right after I figured all of that out, everything with Maeve happened.”

Spencer paused.

“I only bring that up because…in the fallout…of everything…JJ…kissed me,” he said, quiet enough to be a whisper.

Cecily’s eyebrows shot up. Spencer scrunched his face, and ran a hand down it to scrub away his expression.

“I know it was bad, and I know it shouldn’t have happened, but I was not in a great place, and was incredibly distraught and by the time I registered what was happening enough to react it was over, and we never talked about it. We still haven’t.”

Spencer took a deep breath.

“Regardless of what happened between us, I made up my mind about JJ a long time ago,” Spencer said. “Even if circumstances drastically change overnight, I don’t want anything other than a friendship with her. It wouldn’t be good. She’s not even my type!”

“What? Blonde and gorgeous?” Cece said.

“Hesitant and motherly,” Spencer shot back.

Cecily looked down.

“I didn’t mention any of this before because I honestly didn’t think there was anything to tell,” Spencer said. “It’s not something I consider as part of my history.”

He paused again before adding:

“There was also a small part of me that wasn’t sure if you would understand.”

“Do you still think that?” Cece asked, her voice small.

“ Gods , no ,” he breathed.

Spencer looked over at her then. She met his eyes, and the look on his face reassured her he was being honest.

“My reasons behind not telling JJ about us are admittedly more cowardly though,” he said, dropping his eyes again. “I didn’t know how she was going to react, and I wasn’t prepared to deal with that. But she made her stance abundantly clear tonight. After everything I’ve done for her, the least she can do is be nice at one fucking dinner with the person I’ve chosen to be with.”

Cece squeezed his hand. Spencer picked his head up to look at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes painfully sincere. “I tried to take the easy way out, and that hurt you. I never meant to hurt you, and I promise nothing like this will ever happen again.”

“Thank you,” Cecily said, blinking back tears. “I accept your apology. There are a couple things in your explanation that I do want to touch on in a second, but…I have to ask…if JJ had played nice…would you have told me? About your past with her?”

“Eventually,” he said. “I’m not quite sure how it would have come up, but, yes. I would’ve told you.”

“And everything we’ve talked about…how our relationship works, our boundaries, what we’re expecting…that’s all…still good?”

“Yes,” Spencer said. “You are the only one I want to be with. Everything we’ve talked about, everything we’re planning, it’s what I want. It’s what I’m working for. As long as you’ll have me. And I’m sorry my actions lead you to doubt that.”

A few tears snaked their way down Cecily’s cheeks. She reached over across the center divide and hugged him. Spencer shifted to wrap his arms around her, and held her close. It wasn’t a very long hug, but it filled Cece with relief. After she broke away from the hug, Cece took Spencer’s hand again. He wiped away a few stray tears from her face.

“I’m okay, I swear,” she muttered.

“I would understand if you weren’t,” he whispered back.

Cecily took a deep breath.

“Thank you for all of that,” she said. “That made me feel a lot better. Um…I would like to know what you’re planning to do moving forward. I know your friendships are your business, but it would make me more comfortable if you were to share. I, also, just want to say that um, I’m a little concerned that she thought it was okay to kiss you when a) she’s married, and b) you were incredibly emotionally distraught. That is…not great.”

Spencer sighed.

“I know,” he said. “I’m going to have a conversation with her tomorrow, and actually say everything that I should have said a while ago. Based on that, I’ll see what needs to be done, but I don’t see us acting as anything other than coworkers for the near future, and I definitely won’t be alone with her outside of a professional capacity for an indefinite time frame.”

Cecily squeezed his hand. Spencer met her gaze.

“Thank you for understanding,” he said. “And I’m really sorry. Again.”

“I know,” she said.

Cece hooked a finger under his chin, brought his face close, and sealed her lips around his with a soft, gentle kiss.

And that was that.

They went upstairs to his apartment, changed into their pajamas, and made tea. He even let her wear his wizard robe for a bit. They fell asleep cuddling.

* * *

Spencer woke up the next day, got dressed, kissed his girlfriend goodbye and headed to work. When he arrived, Derek and Emily were already at the desks, talking. Reid slipped off his messenger bag, and set it down on his chair.

“Hey guys,” he said. “Do you know if JJ’s in yet?”

“Uh, yeah,” Emily said. “I think she stepped into her old office to take a call.”

Reid was moving before Prentiss finished speaking. Derek said something to Emily, but Spencer was already out of the room so he missed it. He found JJ right where Emily said she’d be. He knocked on the door before opening it a crack. JJ waved him in as she finished up a call and hung up her phone,

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” Spencer asked.

JJ nodded. Spencer stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him. He stood on one side of the unused desk; she stood on the other.

“I don’t appreciate how you acted last night,” he said. “You were really rude to Cece, and it really hurt me.”

JJ just looked at him for a moment. No shame, no embarrassment, no regret registered on her face. It was just a blank, slightly stunned stare. After a moment, she found her voice.

“I had no idea who she was, Spence,” JJ said. “I was completely blindsided.”

“Oh, and I had so much forewarning with Will?” he said. “That’s not an excuse, and you know it.”

JJ dropped her eyes. Reid hesitated for a moment, and then the words he should have said long ago finally crossed his lips.

“Whatever you thought we had, whatever you thought I felt for you, I’m telling you right now, it’s over,” Spencer said. “There is nothing between us.”

“It’s not like that!” JJ protested.

“Don’t. Don’t stand there and lie to me.”

His tone was sharp, final. He could see tears start to form in her eyes. She crossed her arms, and looked away from him towards the door. Spencer wondered for a moment if she’d try to run, but she stood her ground.

“I don’t know how you can keep living in this ambiguity, but it’s not… I’m not doing it anymore,” Spencer said.

“What else am I supposed to do?!” she said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “It’s you , Spence... I don’t want to lose you.”

“You don’t always get what you want, JJ.”

Reid could tell she did not like that. He kept going.

“If you want to keep me in your life, you’ll do it as a friend, and you’ll respect me.”

She was quiet for a moment. Spencer hoped she would come around. But her next words made him livid.

“You don’t even know if this relationship will last,” JJ said.

“Firstly, my relationship with Cece and its longevity is none of your business,” Spencer said. “Secondly, this isn’t about that. It’s about you, JJ. Your actions.”

“What do you mean?”

“You rejected me. You had someone else’s kids. You married another man. You kissed me, acted like it never happened, and are now standing there surprised and upset that I’ve moved on with my life. How is any of that okay? How is any of that not entirely selfish on your part?”

“I’m not selfish,” she shot back.

“You have always treated me like your backup plan, JJ. Like I didn’t exist unless you wanted something or you decided to give me attention. I’m not something you can turn to when you get tired of the life you’ve chosen. I deserve more than that. I deserve to be someone's first option.”

A flood of emotions crossed her face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I’m not settling for less anymore, and if that makes you upset, then you have to figure that out on your own.”

“So that’s it then?!” JJ asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m not interacting with you outside of professional capacities.”

Spencer moved towards the door, his point now entirely made.

“You’re being ridiculous, Spence,” she said.

“I am perfectly rational,” Reid said over his shoulder as he exited. “And it’s Spencer.”

The door clicked shut behind him. Reid walked down the hallway, and stopped at the doors to the bullpen. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

He felt…fine. Hmm…

“Reid! Thank goodness I caught you!” Garcia said, cutting into his thoughts. “What do you think Cece would like more?”

Penelope showed him her phone where she had about forty different Amazon tabs open. He glanced at the screen as she started flipping through the different items.

“That one,” Spencer said, pointing at her screen.

Garcia glanced at her phone.

“Are you sure?” she said. “I haven’t even gotten through half of my ideas.”

“It’s a tardis cookie jar,” Spencer said. “I…I’m sure.”

Penelope added the item to her cart as the pair entered the bullpen area.

“What is this for?” Spencer asked.

“It’s a thank you present,” Garcia said. “Cece added me to the beta readers list for Stars Crossed , and I am required by the laws of friendship to express my gratitude as loudly as possible. In this case, with a confection tardis.”

Spencer smiled.

“You guys really hit it off, didn’t you?” he asked.

“She is so lovely!” Garcia said. “We already have a date to go wine tasting! Emily’s coming too. We’re going next Sunday so don’t do anything that would make her cancel.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Good. Because she and I are going to be best friends.”

Spencer laughed.

“She would like that,” he said.

Penelope beamed. They were silent for a moment before he spoke again.

“ Thank you , Garcia,” Spencer said.

Penelope glanced at him, curious over his serious tone. She met his eyes, and smiled.

“It is my genuine pleasure, Reid,” Garcia said.

“We accept the love we think we deserve”

— Stephen Chbosky

Chapter Text

"You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read."

— Charles Dickens

Cecily had been looking forward to the weekend since Monday. Spencer was supposed to be off work for the next couple of days, and they were planning to go get coffee and walk around bookshops and just be generally adorable so Cecily could take a break from her writing. So she was especially frustrated when Friday night came, and her pages weren’t finished.

One scene.

It came down to one sex scene.

That she couldn’t crack to save her life.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, brought over dinner, and was now sitting in a nearby chair as she paced around the library trying to find words.

It needed to be perfect.

The whole book, the whole conclusion of the series, everything hinged on her delivering this one scene. And she had nothing .

After her tenth exasperated sigh, Spencer glanced up from his book to check on her. He watched as Cece walked in yet another circle, muttering to herself. She happened to glance over in his direction, and noticed his eyes.

“Sorry,” Cece said. “Am I bothering you?”

Spencer shook his head.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just…scene…driving me crazy.”

Reid closed his book, a long finger sticking between the pages to keep his place.

“What would help?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” Cece said. “You’ve done enough. It’s fine. I’ll get it eventually.”

Spencer tilted his head to the side, a question forming in his eyes. Cecily glanced back down at her blank notebook page. Her brain scrambled and unscrambled half-formed ideas and sentences, but nothing beneficial took form. She looked up again, and Spencer’s expression hadn’t changed.

Cecily sighed.

“Can I have a hug?” she asked, dropping her eyes.

Spencer set his book down, got up, walked over to her, and wrapped her in his arms. She planted her face in his chest and groaned.

“Fuck me,” she said. “Fuck this. Fuck these stupid characters who I can’t get to fuck each other.”

“Only one of those sounds appealing to me,” he said.

Cece smirked, and kept her face pressed into his chest. Spencer kissed the top of her head.

“I’m sorry I ruined our weekend,” she mumbled.

“You haven’t ruined anything.”

She huffed. Spencer held her tighter. He ran one hand up and down her back in a calm, soothing gesture. She relaxed into him for a moment, and closed her eyes.

“Do you still want to help?” Cecily asked a few minutes later.

“What do you need?” he responded.

Cecily sighed, picked her head up, and broke away from him. She walked over to her desk, braced her hands against the dark wood, and concentrated on the blank notebook page.

“Can I talk through this with you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Do you want suggestions, or answers to your questions? Please keep in mind, I have read everything you’ve ever published so it may be very hard for me to keep opinions or patterns to myself.”

Cece smiled. “Uh, yeah, you can… Yes, talk back to me, please.”

“Okay,” and Spencer gestured for her to proceed.

The writer started pacing again, walking in slow circles on the area rug. Her steps were purposeful. Reid watched a moment, and then decided to join in, walking in the opposite direction from her. The two circled each other in this odd little dance.

“So, I know I’ve already given you the plot for this book with Gregory coming back, and Rebecca dealing with that, and the two of them struggling with feelings and such,” Cecily said.

Spencer nodded.

“Anyways, through my clever devices, they are trapped together, and if there was ever a time for them to fuck now would be it, but I just…can’t…get it…to make sense.”

“How so?” he asked. “It seems like the scenario should work.”

“The scenario does. The problem is the characters.”

Spencer waited for her to explain.

“This book is all about the idea of second chances, right?” Cece said. “How you didn’t think you could do this thing, or in their case this person, ever again and the circumstances around that and all the complicated feelings that go into that. They are not the same people that originally fell in love with each other. They don’t even really know where they stand, or if there’s a future, or if how they feel is residual leftover shit or if they’re actually in love again. The sex scene needs to reflect that. I want their physical interactions to be different. And the problem I keep running into is that I know how they fucked before…and I keep approaching the scene that way, with their original dynamic, and I can’t get that out of my head. But it doesn’t work anymore.”

They each walked a few paces in silence. She could practically hear the gears turning in his mind.

“Rebecca’s canonically a switch…” he said, more to himself than anything.

“Yeeeees.”

“So she could… top …Gregory…?”

“Gregory’s not a bottom.”

“That we’ve seen so far.”

Cece stepped, planted her feet, and did a very dramatic turn. She stood frozen for a moment, contemplating his idea. Spencer ceased walking as well.

“That would be one hell of a change…” Cecily said.

“My point is just that sexuality is fluid, and if you want to highlight a difference in dynamic, you could experiment with that. With Gregory,” he said. “You’ve already done it with Rebecca, obviously. And I…I know I don’t have to sight off all the examples of how well you write her as the dominant partner, but I-I can . …If you…need.”

She wasn’t listening. Her brain was far away again, picturing out the scene between her fictional characters. Cecily smiled as the narrative began to form in her brain. She jumped up and down, and squealed.

“Ugh, that’s brilliant,” she said. “You’re brilliant. Fuck! That’s good!”

Cecily dashed back over to her desk and began scribbling down the scene in bullet points of action. She bounced up and down as excitement coursed through her. Spencer watched her for a moment, a very small, very pleased smile on his face. He moved to take his seat again.

“Stay,” Cece said, holding a finger up in his direction.

Spencer stopped.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she said. “Give me one sec to get this down…”

He waited, folding his hands behind his back. After a few more frantic scribbles, Cecily straightened up.

“Is it a hate fuck?” she said to herself. “Wait, no. No... It’s a ‘I can’t hold it in any longer’ fuck. Yeah! Yeah...”

Cecily brought her attention back to the present moment with a shake of her head, and glanced at Spencer. Her face was glowing with the spark of new ideas. Spencer tried not to stare, which meant he quickly glanced at his feet the second she turned towards him. She caught the soft flash of his eyes, and felt her heart flutter. Cecily cleared her throat. 

“Would you mind walking through the start of this with me real quick?” she asked.

“Uhhhh…” he buffered.

“Not the –” and she facepalmed. “Just the…like the leadup bit. Ya know, the bullshit dialogue scene right before they fuck. That…that bit. Clothes stay on.”

“I know what you meant, Cecily.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

She shot him an apologetic smile. He ran a hand through his hair, and then looked at her for a moment. Cecily watched as a teasing smirk crossed his lips. The second after, Spencer made a completely unnecessary display of slipping out of his cardigan. After the clothing item had been removed, he sauntered over to her desk, his eyes staying on her face the whole time. He draped the cardigan over the desk.

“Where do we start?” Spencer asked, his voice soft.

Cecily didn’t speak. She looked at him. And then her eyes trailed down to his discarded cardigan. And then she looked at him again.

“You didn’t say all clothes stay on,” Spencer said.

A dangerous smile crossed Cecily’s lips. She slipped out of her cardigan, and placed it near Spencer’s. She felt desire curl in the pit of her stomach as she met his eyes again.

“Alright, smart guy,” she said. “Over here…”

Cecily took Spencer’s hand, and walked around her desk back to a clearer space of the library. He trailed after her, his fingers dangling off of hers.

“So they’re in this remote cabin where he’s been staying. They were on the road, but this really big storm blew in so they rushed to get to the cabin. They’re soaked, obviously, and she’s probably upset so I was thinking of opening it with like a yelling match maybe? Just about the stuff that’s been going on,” Cece said.

“Was he in the lead?” Spencer asked.

“Yes.”

Spencer stepped in front of her, his fingers slipping out of her hand as he put distance between them. Cece tried to ignore the loss of his touch and focus on the task at hand. He turned to face her again. Cecily swallowed.

“Right. So, blah blah blah, probably ranting about being stranded and being soaked. Something something everything’s ruined,” she said. “I’m thinking she will probably stay close to the door? Like not knowing if she’s welcome in his space.”

Spencer walked over to one of the bookshelves, mimed getting out a towel, and setting it down on a nonexistent coffee table. He went back over to the bookcase. Cecily smiled over his pantomime.

“I figured Gregory would probably stay quiet,” he said. “Not out of superiority, but because he believes he deserves her censure. That, and, um, he’s probably distracted over how good she looks when she’s all wet.”

The words rolled carelessly off his tongue and into Cecily’s ears. She bit her lower lip and nodded, dropping her eyes.

“I was also thinking that,” she said. “Um, so, Rebecca will probably grab the towel after she’s exhausted herself being upset. Because we all know that’s just a cover up anyways.”

“Of course.”

Cecily moved to the imaginary coffee table, and took up the imaginary towel Reid had left out for her.

“Should she start the mood shift, or should he?” Cece asked.

“Rebecca should,” came Spencer’s immediate reply.

Then, almost as an afterthought:

“He’s…following her lead.”

“Right.”

Cecily took a deep breath, and glanced in Spencer’s direction. His back was towards the bookshelf still, resting against it, his arms on either side bracing lower shelves. His eyes were on the floor.

“Okay, so, she opens the emotions door a crack to test the waters,” Cecily said. “Something funny.”

“He’d laugh.”

“She’d say something vulnerable.”

“He’d stay quiet, but his eyes would be hopeful.”

“She’d go on, probably thinking it’d be better to put her foot in her mouth.”

“Then he’d admit some grand revelation about his feelings to her.”

There was a pause. Spencer cleared his throat.

“Should he close the gap?” Reid asked.

“No…” Cece said, her tone betraying she was lost in thought. “No, I want her to go into his space.”

Cecily moved across the room, absorbed in her clinical mental map of the scene, and stood in front of Spencer.

“I know he’s more physically imposing than her, but I want her to basically pin him in place as best as possible,” she said.

Cece positioned herself roughly how she imagined Rebecca would stand in the moment. Spencer backed into the bookshelf, but she was right on top of him. Her hands rested idle at his waistline, her fingers absently grazing the belt loops of his pants.

“Shame he doesn’t have bookshelves like these,” Cece mused, glancing past Reid to look at the shelf.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, just…start the whole thing by her throwing him against it… Be pretty hot.”

Spencer made no noise . If it was possible to be less than silent, he would have been.

Cecily remained oblivious, her mind already running through the next portion of the scene. Spencer cleared his throat, which brought her attention back to him.

“Do you know what he says?” Spencer asked. “To get her to come over? To…be with him?”

“Not yet. You got anything?”

“Maybe…” he breathed.

Spencer swallowed. Cecily noticed his eyes were still on the carpet. She registered the soft brush of his fingertips against her arms; felt her heartbeat pick up. Spencer licked his lips.

“Maybe it’s, um, something like… I dunno… Every time I see you, I tell myself that it’s statistically impossible for me to want you more, and yet every second with you proves the impossible.”

Spencer lifted his eyes to meet hers.

And the world dropped out of focus.

Those words were for her.

He was…

That was about her …

Cecily blinked as air rushed out of her lungs, stolen away by his gaze. And then she realized her fingers were curled tight around his belt loops and kept their hips locked together.

She…

She was pressing Dr. Spencer Reid up against her bookshelf.

…Oh.

Oh .

Cece kept her eyes on Spencer. He didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe.

God, he looked so hungry.

So desperate.

So perfect .

Was she really going to do this?

Cecily felt the question bubble up inside of her before she could stop it. She waited for the guilt, and the shame, and the fear to answer it. But there was nothing else.

The only thing twisting her gut was the desire to see how loud she could make this man scream her name.

“Spence?” Cece whispered.

His answer wasn’t words, but it was clear.

“Can I fuck you?”

“ Please .”

She pulled him into a kiss as her body slammed him back against the shelf. Spencer’s hands dug into her waist, fingers bunching around fabric in his desperate attempt to touch her. Their lips moved against each other with feverish precision. Her breath mingled with his, and their tongues intertwined. Her hands moved up his torso to cradle his head and pull at his hair.

Cecily could feel the smile on his face. She could taste him on her tongue.

God, she needed him so bad.

Her hands moved again; tore his shirt out of its tuck and began unbuttoning it. Cecily kissed down his jawline to his neck. Her lips connected with his soft flesh, and she sucked on him as her frustrated fingers worked the buttons lower and lower and lower. She heard him gasp for breath, his mouth near her ear, his head bent towards her, his chest heaving beneath her fingers. Her tongue swirled, and he moaned. Or maybe that was because her hands had finally reached his waistline again, and she couldn’t resist feeling his erection beneath his pants.

Cecily peeled off his button down, and threw it away. Then her fingers tore at his undershirt, and seconds later it met the same fate. Her hands danced across his bare torso. He moaned her name as her nails grazed his nipples and then scraped down his sides and tore into his lower back. Cece left a row of sloppy kisses on his collarbone as she moved her mouth down his neck to violently kiss his chest.

Spencer’s hands pushed against her, trying to get enough space between them so he could take off her clothes. After about the third attempt, she registered what he was trying to do, and lessened her attentions enough to allow him access to her zipper. As he helped her out of her clothes, Cecily’s fingers worked on opening his belt and slipping off his pants. Soon they were both standing in nothing but their underwear.

Cecily shivered as cold air hit her skin. She moved into Spencer, and his arms wrapped around her, and the delicious sensation of their naked contact overwhelmed her. She reached up, directing his face down to hers for another kiss, wrapping her arms behind his head. Their lips connected in sweet, hot, mesmerizing passion.

His hands went everywhere .

Up and down her naked body. Groping. Teasing. Caressing her.

“Oh god…” she moaned into his mouth. “ Spence !”

She clutched his hair, and arched into his touch. Spencer’s fingers danced across her soft skin, lingering when her noises told him she was pleased. His lips murmured against hers as Cecily drew out kiss after kiss after kiss from him.

Spencer’s hands traced up her body. His fingers curved around the gentle slope of her breasts, and Cecily found herself irritated over the minuscule fabric that still separated them.

“Take it off,” she told him. “Take it all off.”

He obeyed. His dexterous fingers made short work of her bra clasp. He slid the garment off of her and dropped it on the floor. Cecily barely had time to press her chest against his before Spencer’s fingers were at her waistline stripping off her underwear. The cloth pooled around her feet, so she stepped out of it and kicked it away with a flick of her ankle.

His hands rested on her hips, the pads of his thumbs running in slow circles on her upper thighs. Spencer stopped kissing her for a moment to catch his breath. His head – his whole body – bent towards her in delicious subjugation. Cecily smiled up at him. Her right hand gripped the back of his neck, gathering in a fistful of his hair. Her left hand trailed down his torso to his waist and tore off his briefs.

Spencer gasped as Cece took his dick in her hand.

His whole body tensed. His fingers dug into her waist.

Cecily chuckled. The sound was deep, and low, and throaty. He shivered.

Her fingers curled around his cock and slid down the length of his shaft to its tip and then back up again.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

He whimpered as her fingertips grazed his balls. Sweet…pathetic little sound. Like he was tripping over his own tongue. Cecily glanced up at him. Sweat dripped down his brow. His hair was a mess. His lips quivered, and his eyes begged her for more. Her tongue trailed along his jaw and into his mouth.

“You like that, don’t you?” she murmured into his lips.

“I…um…uh…I – ”

Spencer’s poor speech was cut off by a strangled moan as Cecily tightened her fingers around his cock. He devolved into more pleased noises as her hand slid down his dick again.

“... Yes !” he managed to cry between moans. “Yes…y – fuck ! … yes … ! ”

A smile cut through Cecily’s features, hot, and hard, and irresistible. He moaned again and bent his face close to hers. She kissed him, intending to give him no more than a taste. But the moment their lips connected again, Cece couldn’t let go.

Her right hand tugged on his hair, and Spencer’s head moved in the direction she chose. Cecily angled his head back, though not far enough to break apart their lips. Her other hand traveled back up his torso, her fingertips grazing his skin, and clutched at his neck.

Her thumb ran down the length of his throat. Spencer moaned, and the vibration echoed into her fingertips. She bent his head forward again, pressing their lips and tongues together in a deeper kiss, and the nails of her left hand dug into his chest.

Spencer’s hands were moving again. Cecily’s hips arched up and into him, an unconscious movement, but true all the same.

Their kiss deepened, and his hands grabbed at her ass, urging her to lean into him.

Trinkets and books clattered on the shelves above them. If they dropped out of place, she didn’t care.

Cecily felt frantic.

Furious.

Desperate.

She needed him inside of her. Now .

Her fingers moved from his head to grasp at the wood shelf behind him. His hands clawed down her naked back, raking her coiled muscles. For a split second, Cecily tried to work out the physical logistics of fucking him against the bookshelf, but her brain was too clouded to work out a solution that didn’t end in injury. So she glanced around the rest of the room for an immediate alternative because her patience wore thin with every sound that dripped out of his mouth.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a circular wooden chair.

…

That’ll work.

She spun him around, and tossed Spencer into the chair. His ass hit the wood, confusion painting his face over the loss of her touch. He moved to be near her again.

“ Stay ,” she ordered.

Spencer’s response was immediate. He froze; eyes on her face, hands poised on the chair. Ready and willing to do whatever she wanted.

Cecily sunk to her knees in front of him. Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Wh…n…uh…” he stammered.

Cecily ignored him. She parted his legs, positioned herself between his knees, and ran her tongue up the length of his cock.

 “Ffff – Fuuuuuuck ,” Spencer breathed.

His grip on the chair tightened as Cecily’s tongue swirled around the tip of his cock. She made eye contact with him as her lips tightened around the tip and she sucked. Spencer threw his head back. His hips bucked, forcing his back to arch.

She sucked harder, flicking the tip with her tongue. She watched him writhe for a moment.

“ Cece !” Spencer gasped. “Oh gods! Oh–ooOh goddddds ”

Cecily opened wide and sunk down on his cock. As her lips brushed against his balls, his dick hit the back of her throat. Spencer let out a strangled yelp.

“Mmmmm,” Cece murmured, her mouth full of his cock.

Spencer devolved into sputtering moans.

Cecily just sat there. Let her saliva drip onto him. Let his dick swirl around in her mouth. Let her tongue tease the underside of his cock as it pressed against his flesh. After a moment, she pulled back up to the tip, sucking on him as she went.

She attended to his cock for a few minutes. Licking him. Sucking on him. Drooling over him. Her tongue never left his dick. Every so often, she would switch her pace or change her methods, never allowing him a second of relief. Never allowing him to cum.

His sounds grew louder, a swell in the music made just for her. Cecily pinned his hips to the chair, keeping him from writhing, as she lathered him. By the time she drew her mouth away, his cock was a slippery mess.

She didn’t even bother to wipe the spit from her lips as she stood. Cecily paused to survey her work. Spencer’s chest heaved as he tried to choke down fistfuls of air. His fingers locked around the chair in a deathgrip, knuckles white. His head was still flung back, spine arched, and he stared up at the ceiling, hair all askew. He was quivering.

“ God , you’re delicious,” Cece said.

Spencer whimpered.

Cecily towered over him, dragging her hands up the entire length of his bent body. Her fingers grabbed his chin, and forced his head up. Tears stung his huge brown eyes. She watched him blink a few times before he could focus on her. Her hand was the only thing supporting his head.

“Eyes on me, pretty boy,” she said. “I want you to see how good your cock feels.”

Spencer registered confusion. Then surprise as his brain realized her meaning.

She had left him sloppy on purpose.

“ Cece —“ came his choked whisper.

Cecily straddled him. She took a moment to settle her weight…

And then lowered herself down.

His cock slipped inside of her.

She gasped.

Her muscles tightened around his dick. Her thighs clenched his legs. Spencer moaned. His full attention was on Cecily, finding himself unable to disobey her. Her hands reached behind him to grab the back of the chair, using this for leverage and stability. She pulled up, and then thrust down again, burying his cock deep inside of her.

“ Oh god !” she cried.

Spencer ran his hands down her curves and then gripped her hips as Cecily moved into him again. He watched her, eyes scanning her body. When she pulled up again, he shifted his hips to give her a better angle on his cock. He knew his efforts were appreciated when she thrust down and a long, low moan escaped her lips.

Cecily soon found her balance. Once she had that, she wasted no time in increasing her pace. Each new crash of their hips sent shocks of pleasure through her body. The rhythm of her thrusts added to the heat and tension building inside of her.

Cecily rode him.

And enjoyed every…intoxicating…second.

“So…good,” Cece breathed. “You feel…so good… Spence !”

Spencer answered her with another whimper, unable to force any speech out of his stuck brain. Cecily moved a hand to grab his hair, and directed his face over to hers. His eyes moved over her body to gaze on her face. She rested her forehead against his for a moment.

Then she kissed him. Hard. His lips were hot and soft and…perfect.

So perfect.

His tongue danced in her mouth.

His tongue…

Fuck !

How had she gone so long without his tongue?!

Cecily clutched his head with both of her hands and forced their faces closer in an even deeper kiss. One of Spencer’s hands snaked up her back and the other dove to grab her ass. His grip steadied her against him as the pace of her thrusts increased.

Their teeth gnashed together.

She couldn’t breathe.

Not that she needed air.

She just needed him.

His tongue.

His lips.

His cock.

Everything.

All of it.

All of him.

Him .

“ Spence ,” she moaned. “Oh, Spence…my Spence .”

Their eyes met.

Her whole body tensed.

His cock hit deep inside of her.

“ Spence !”

She came all over him, making a complete mess of the chair. She slumped forward as her muscles uncoiled over the sudden and complete release of tension. Cece closed her eyes and moaned as she got swept away by pleasure.

“ Cecily …” Spencer murmured.

Cece blinked open her eyes. Shit! She hadn’t even…

She glanced down, panic stricken, to find that he had already cum all over her, inside of her. The mess on the chair was from both of them.

Relieved that her momentary lapse of concern for her partner hadn’t ruined his fun, she turned her eyes back towards his face. She studied his expression for a moment. She couldn’t quite name the look in his eyes, but fuck, she wanted it to stay there forever. Cecily brushed away a few stray tears.

“Cecily…” he tried again. But nothing else came out.

She pressed a kiss into his lips. Soft and gentle and so full of love it almost killed her. She broke it off after a moment, and shot him a look that reassured him she already knew whatever he was trying to say.

Then Cecily shifted her position to one that was a bit more comfortable, and sat down in his lap. She rested a hand on his chest, and another hand on his face. She placed her head close to his. His arms wrapped around her and held her tight to him.

Cece sighed, a smile teasing the corners of her lips.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

“Happiness is holding someone in your arms, and knowing you hold the whole world.”

— Orhan Pamuk

Spencer opened his eyes, and the hazy cloud of sleep began to drift away. He was smiling. Why was he smiling? He felt whole, fulfilled, a little sore…which was odd. Spencer glanced around the room to take in his surroundings. Right, Cece’s bedroom. In Cece’s house. Because it was the weekend, and they planned a bookshop outing. Which would explain the warm pressure at his side. She was lying next to him.

Spencer ran a hand over his face in an attempt to wipe the sleep away and boot up his thoughts. He must have been out . He couldn’t remember the last time sleep had affected him like this. Spencer’s hand fell back down to the bed. His fingertips grazed his leg as it fell, and his brain registered that he wasn’t wearing any pants.

He paused.

He…he didn’t have any clothes on.

All trace of sleep vanished, replaced by memories of the night before. Their frantic fuck in the library. His fingers curling inside of her. Her tongue swirling around his dick. Her cum on his hand. Her weight on his mouth. Her fingers inside of him. How she fucked him into the mattress, the floor, the wall.

“ Oh gods ,” Spencer breathed, and sank back into the bed.

The memories didn’t stop there. He recalled the taste of her lips. The heat of their kiss. The way she liked to stare at him. How he could drown in her eyes, in her words, in her scent. He remembered how safe it felt being held at her mercy.

His thoughts were cut off when Cecily stirred beside him. Spencer turned his face from the ceiling to look at her. She groaned. Spencer smiled. Her purple hair was disheveled, and he couldn’t see her face. Spencer leaned over and kissed what he assumed was the side of her head.

“You’re awake,” she mumbled.

“And so it seems are you,” he mused.

“Mmhmmm. Totally didn’t…fall back asleep…waiting…on you…”

“Well, I’m awake now.”

“Mmmmm…”

Cecily shifted towards him. Spencer parted the blankets and raised his arm to make room for her. She sank into his side. Heat invaded his skin wherever their bodies connected. He wrapped his arm around her waist, leaving the palm of his hand to rest on her bare ass. His long fingers cradled her flesh, and he couldn’t resist the smallest trace of a squeeze.

She stretched. One of her arms went over their heads, and the other rested on his chest. Her legs intertwined with his. Spencer watched as she brushed her hair back out her face, a gesture she’d done countless times before, and found himself transfixed.

He just stared at her, his eyes shining in adoration.

And then she smiled at him. It was a perfect little expression, content and warm and just a touch mischievous. Like they were sharing some fantastical secret. He found himself smiling back at her, unable to contain himself. After a moment, Spencer turned his face back to the ceiling, his cheeks burning. He felt flushed from his head to his toes. All because of her smile.

Cecily moved again. Her lips pressed against his neck in a sweet, wet, possessive kiss. Spencer let out a low moan.

“Morning,” she murmured, her mouth in his ear.

“... Yeah … that …”

His voice was rough. Spencer swallowed. Cecily rested her face against his neck as Spencer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His heartbeat steadied. He ignored the ache of his cock, and focused on the other sensations running through his body. He focused on her. Her warmth. Her breath on his skin. The slight pressure of her arm across his chest. How her fingers pulled and brushed and tangled his hair. The imprint of her kiss still burning on his neck. He felt…

Fuck.

This was better than any high he had ever felt.

“So after we finish here, I was thinking we could eat breakfast,” Cecily said. “And talk about our plans for the weekend. Cause those need to change.”

“Yeah, okay,” Spencer said. “I just want to stop by the…Sunnydale Stacks. Giles got a special Thrawn Trilogy set in, but he said he could only hold it for me for 48 hours.”

“That’s a fuckin steal.”

“I know. It’s an illustrated set too. He showed me some of the artwork, and it’s gorgeous. You’ll love it.”

“ Ooh ! Okay, so we are definitely going there, which is chill cause we were gonna need to go out to grab stuff anyways.”

“Awesome, thanks.” Then Spencer added: “Do you just need more time to write?”

“Ha! God, no. They’ll be lucky if they get pages by Tuesday.”

“Oh. Why do our plans need to change then?”

“Becaaaaaause…there was not enough time…for me to properly fuck you…some more.”

Spencer’s eyes popped open.

“You, um…you…want to…do more?” he asked.

“Well, technically, some of it we would be doing again. That mouth of yours is something I plan to ride more than once.”

His cock twitched. Spencer cleared his throat.

“Oh, that…that’s nice,” he said.

And immediately cursed himself for his word choice. Nice? NICE?! It was fucking unbelievable, and the best thing he’d heard in his whole goddamn life!

“Only if you want to do stuff!” Cece said. “Obviously!  If-if you don’t want to, then it won’t happen. Like I’m not trying to force  –”

“– No, I-I want that. I want more. I want you.”

Her hands stopped moving. Spencer scrunched his eyes shut.

“Whatever you want to try, whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m up for it. And I’ll tell you if that changes, but based on last night, I doubt it will. I just…I don’t want to seem too eager.”

Because I know what this means to you.

I know what last night meant.

And I refuse to have you think that I don’t understand or that I’m only concerned about my wants or that I don’t respect you.

Spencer held his breath, and waited for her to say something. To say anything.

“Are you?” Cece asked. “Eager?”

“ Yes .”

“Is that what this is?” and she reached down to grasp his hardened cock.

“Yes.”

Her grip tightened. Spencer couldn’t contain a moan as Cece’s hand slid down his cock. A second later, he felt the dull pinch of her teeth when she bit his neck. She kissed and sucked on his skin, lips and tongue hot against him.

“ Cecily… ” he breathed. “ Oh! Oh…gods!”

He felt Cece smile. Her mouth moved up to his ear as the pace of her strokes increased.

“All this for me , pretty boy?” she said.

Spencer gasped.

“Yes!” he said. “Yes, it’s all for you, Cece.”

Cecily shifted her position, tearing away the blankets, and sat in the space she made between his legs. She ran her hands up the inside of his thighs, before returning her attentions back to his dick. She teased his balls with one hand while the other slid up and down his cock.

“Such…a pretty…boy,” she mused.

His cock throbbed in her hand, and he gasped.

“ Cece !”

Spencer tried to concentrate on her, but lost his focus over what she was doing to his dick. Her pace was maddening. Cecily smiled, and removed her hand from his balls.

“Open your mouth,” she said.

His lips parted as he obeyed her. She placed two fingers on his tongue.

“Suck,” Cece ordered.

Spencer sucked. His lips encircled the base of her fingers as his tongue played with the digits. When Cece withdrew her fingers a few seconds later, they were dripping wet.

He watched as that hand dropped low between his legs. His brain made the connection a few seconds before he felt her fingers at his hole. Cecily took her time, using her slick fingers to work him open, all while her other hand still mercilessly attended to his cock. And then she slid both fingers deep inside him.

Stars burst into his vision.

“Fuck!” he screamed.

She flexed her two fingers, curling them back and forth in slow motion.

Spencer threw his head back and clutched at the bedsheets.

“ Oh … You like that, pretty boy?” Cecily said.

“ Yeees ,” he moaned. “Yes, Cece, yes! …Gooooooods!”

His voice petered off into a strangled whimper. He couldn’t last much longer.

Spencer moved so he could see her face. Cecily met his eyes and smirked. Then she leaned down, sealed her lips around the tip of his cock, and thrust again with her fingers. Spencer lost himself. His cum fell onto her tongue as his head fell onto the bed.

She sucked him dry.

Spencer froze for a moment after Cecily released his dick. His hands let go of the sheets, knuckles unclenching as the last of the tension left his body. He was smiling again. So wide it almost hurt. He ran a hand over his face, and laughed.

“What?” Cece asked. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing…” he said.

Spencer propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just…happy. So happy.”

Cecily glanced away and finished cleaning her hands with a nearby towel. He noticed she was smiling too. And her cheeks were pink, like she had just blushed. She tossed the towel onto the floor and met his eyes again.

“Iiiii…am too,” Cecily said, her voice small.

“Yeah?”

“ Yeah .”

Spencer sat upright and wrapped his arms around Cecily’s waist. They leaned into each other, relaxing into a cozy hug, all soft and tender. He looked at her for a moment, loving eyes roving over her body, before kissing her lips. Spencer lost himself in the sensation of her mouth. He hoped every flick of his tongue would help her understand the millions of feelings too strong and too overwhelming to voice. He brought one hand up to cradle her face. She smiled into his lips.

“Woah, Spence…” Cece breathed, pulling back. “I think I need breakfast before you kiss me like that…”

His lips traced down her neck and across her shoulder blade before Spencer let up. He looked at her with big brown eyes, ready and willing. So willing .

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked.

She smirked, and his insides turned to jello. Her fingers raked through his hair, and gathered in a fistful of curls at the base of his neck. Spencer shut his eyes, surrendering himself to her. Before he could do anything more, before his lips connected with her skin again, the obnoxious bleat of a cell phone shattered the moment.

Spencer froze.

“Please tell me that’s your phone,” he murmured.

Cecily sighed, and moved away from him.

“Mine’s off and downstairs,” she said.

Spencer groaned. Cece stood, and walked towards the source of the sound: Spencer’s bag.

“If it’s Penelope, I’m answering,” she said over her shoulder.

Spencer rolled his eyes, and smiled. Cecily fished his phone out of his bag, and frowned at the screen. He tensed.

“It’s Hotch,” she said, handing it to him.

Spencer’s expression darkened as he took the phone and answered.

“Hello?” he said.

“Reid,” Hotch said. “Wheel’s up in 40.”

The call clicked off before Spencer could say anything. He held the silent phone against his ear for a moment, blinking. Then he dialed another number and waited.

“Anderson,” he said, when the agent in question picked up.

“Hey Reid,” Anderson said. “Big one, huh?”

“Yeah, we’re getting briefed on the plane. Any chance you could give me a ride to the airfield?”

“I’m headed out now. Pickup at your apartment?”

“No, I’ll text you the address. Thanks.”

Spencer hung up, and shot the text off to Anderson. It was at that exact moment when the genius remembered what he had been doing a second before his phone rang. He looked up and met Cecily’s eyes.

She stood by the door, now clad in a robe; this shiny, dark blue, silken thing. Cece gave him a sad smile, and Spencer felt it like a punch to the gut.

“I… Uh… Fuck!” he stammered.

She looked down, her smile turning to one of momentary amusement, but her eyes were sad.

“Go shower,” Cecily said. “I’ll make the coffee.”

“I could stay,” he said. “I could miss the plane.”

She looked up and met his eyes again.

“Hotch doesn’t normally call you guys in…does he?”

Seconds of silence lingered between them. It felt like death. Spencer shook his head. She nodded.

“Go shower. I’ll make the coffee,” and she opened the bedroom door, stepped into the hallway, and shut the door behind herself.

Spencer sat in the empty room for a moment after she was gone. It was cold. He sighed, got up, and headed to the shower, whispering vengeance on whatever murderous fuck he was about to go hunt down.

The shower cleared his head, and he stepped out with his wit sharper and his intelligence primed. He put on a pale green button down, khakis, and a grey sweater. He ran a hand through his wet mop of hair instead of bothering to comb it. When he went to repack his bag, Spencer noticed his clothes from the night before folded and tucked inside already.

She…she had packed for him…

He smiled to himself, threw his shower stuff into the bag, and zipped it. He put on his converse and headed downstairs.

Cecily stood by the front door, a lunchbox in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. Spencer’s phone beeped in his pocket as he joined her by the door. He knew that meant his ride was outside. He paused to take the items out of her hands, and went to drink from the coffee cup.

Hey!” Cecily said. “That’s not for you! That’s for Anderson. Yours is in the thermos.”

Spencer stopped before the cup reached his lips. At her direction, he unzipped the lunchbox to peek inside. There was a big, bright purple thermos nestled against a container of pancakes. He paused when he saw the food, and looked at her.

“You made pancakes?” Spencer said.

Cecily dropped her eyes.

“It’s just leftovers,” she said. “I made them the other day cause I really missed you.”

Spencer’s heart twisted in his chest. His phone went off again, but he ignored it.

“I’m such an ass,” he said.

Cecily smirked. She raised her eyes to meet his.

“I know this wasn’t the change in plans either of us wanted,” she said.

“I’ll call out,” he said.

“No. You won’t.”

He couldn’t tell if her words were an order or a prediction, but regardless, her tone was final. After another long look, Cecily opened the door for him.

“Be safe,” she said. “And I would like to talk when you get home.”

We can talk now , he wanted to say. But he just nodded.

Spencer gathered his bags, and his lunchbox, and the coffee for Anderson. He kissed Cecily’s forehead on his way out of the house, piled into the waiting SUV, and was gone.

* * *

The weekend dragged by for Cecily. She ended up going to Sunnydale Stacks by herself to pick up the trilogy for Spencer. She left the books at his apartment. She also turned in her pages; more than was required to keep her on target. Monday rolled around, and there was no word on when Spencer would be back in town.

Cecily decided to pull down every book in her library and reorganize her shelves. It was a tried and true distraction. Which she so desperately needed.

It wasn’t like she felt bad.

She just…she didn’t know how she felt.

Too many things hit her all at once and it was too much to process and she would rather not process any of it at all and he left.

He left.

Which was fine… It was fine. But he wasn’t around. He couldn’t sweep her up into a hug. He couldn’t kiss her on the forehead so all her worries vanished. He couldn’t share his thoughts and feelings with a look. And yeah, okay, it was fine , but maybe…maybe it wasn’t?

Maybe it made her want to cry that they hadn’t stayed in bed all weekend and cuddled and kissed and fucked and spent their time together until there wasn’t anymore of it to spend.

Maybe she remembered the fucking blissful smile on his face that morning and wondered if she would ever see it again.

Maybe she was terrified it had all been a fluke.

I mean, did he even really have a good time that night?

Did he think she had tricked him into it by asking him for help with the scene?

Did he know that she hadn’t even planned on fucking him?

That it all just sort of happened?

Did he also have this bone-deep ache because they were apart?

Then, of course, there were all the thoughts and memories and feelings about everything that had happened before he left…which seemed impossible for her to have in the first place. That she had felt that good, and that free, and that …loved didn’t quite seem plausible. It almost made her stomach turn.

So she sat, and she sorted, and she tried not to think. Volume, after volume, after volume came off the shelves. She placed them in random piles on the floor, and it grew to a point where even her cat abandoned her for some less cluttered part of the house.

Her hands paused over The Importance of Being Earnest. The fancy copy Spencer had given her that day in the park. Against her better judgment, she flipped through it, and a piece of paper fell out into her lap. She picked it up.

On one side there was a note: Thank you for the perfect day. I thought it only fair you should have this. ~Spencer

On the other side was a translation of the Aurebesh alphabet.

Cece fumbled around trying to find the Aurebesh note he had written for her on their second date. Eventually, she recovered it from between the pages of her Empire Strikes Back graphic novel, and set to work translating. It didn’t take her long. His note read as follows:

You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you .

Cecily started crying. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and sobbed.

Her phone went off. She glanced at it, wondering if it could be him, and saw Zoe’s name across the screen. Cecily wiped her eyes, and answered the video call.

“Okay,” Zoe said. “I just finished those pages, and I’m pretty sure –”

Their voice trailed off as they turned towards their camera and registered Cece’s face.

“– woah, what happened? Are you okay?!” Zoe asked.

Cecily waved away their concern, but even as she did, more tears welled up in her eyes.

“It’s nothing,” Cece managed to say before starting to cry again. “Just… Um… Spencer…”

“I’m coming over,” Zoe said, grabbing their phone and standing.

“No! That’s not – it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Zoe shot her a look.

“I’m coming over,” they said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

* * *

Spencer poured his third cup of coffee for the morning, and rubbed his eyes. He should have been thinking about the case, but he was thinking about her. It was a mistake, leaving Cece that morning. Not because he didn’t need to be here with the team, or because his job was somehow less important now, but it… He should have stayed.

She was upset too. He could tell through her texts. Part of him wanted this case to be solved as fast as possible so he could rush home to her, but then the other part of him was hoping it would stretch on forever so he didn’t have to face whatever was waiting for him.

He’d ruined it. Ruined the moment. Ruined the weekend. Hell, depending on what she wanted to talk about, maybe he’d ruined the whole relationship!

Would her opinion of him be different now?

Did she think he’d agreed to help her with the scene for some nefarious purpose?

Had he been…bad?

That was it, wasn’t it? He’d been horrible, and she hadn’t wanted to say anything about it before he left, and now he was just waiting for the inevitable speech about how they were better as friends and how he was so sweet, but definitely not what she was looking for and why couldn’t he have just controlled himself?!

Way to fold like a crap poker hand all because your girlfriend accidentally backed you into a bookshelf. Great job, Spencer!

Reid stopped stirring his coffee and took a sip as he rubbed his temple with his free hand and stared into the middle distance. He didn’t register Morgan stepping up beside him until the other agent spoke.

“Can you pass the milk, pretty boy?” Derek asked.

Spencer dropped his coffee.

“You good?” Morgan asked, glancing at the spilled beverage.

“What?”

Spencer’s subconscious was stuck on the way Cecily used that nickname for him. Reid didn’t even catch Morgan’s next sentence. Too preoccupied by the memory of those words on her lips.

“Seriously, man, what’s going on?” Morgan said, his voice filling with concern. “You’re starting to scare me.”

Reid blinked. He glanced over at Morgan, and then down at the spilled coffee. Spencer shook his head, and started to clean up the spill.

“Sorry,” Reid said. “Sorry. Um, sorry. I…preoccupied.”

“I can see that.”

Spencer straightened after he finished cleaning the mess, and set about making a new cup of coffee. Morgan watched him for a moment.

“Talk to me,” Derek said.

Spencer sighed.

“Come on,” Morgan inisited. “Out with it. What’s on your mind?”

“Cece,” and Spencer walked over to stand next to Morgan. “She and I… We…we had sex.”

Morgan appeared unphased by this piece of news. Reid looked incredulous.

“And?” Derek said. “When we met her, you both acted so familiar with each other, I figured you’d…ya know.”

“What? No,” Reid said. “I mean, now we have. We… It was Friday night. And sort of into Saturday morning.”

“My man.”

“No, no, it wasn’t like that!”

Morgan shot him a look. Spencer’s eyes moved to the floor, but there was a small smile on his face.

“Okay, it was a little like that…” Reid said. “But that’s not the point!”

Morgan waited for him to get to the point.

“I… It was our first time. Not first time ever , but first time with each other, and….”

Reid scrunched his eyes shut.

“Essentially, I’m worried that I was really bad, and that she didn’t like it, and I screwed everything up, and she told me she wants to talk when we get back which I’m pretty sure that means she’s going to tell me how terrible it was and —“

“— Reid. Reid, time out!”

Spencer shut his mouth, and looked at  Morgan.

“Breathe,” Derek said. “Slowly.”

Spencer did as directed, and remembering to breathe helped calm him down.

“Okay,” Morgan said. “I can’t speak to your level of performance, but I can almost guarantee it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be. You have a habit of being your own worst critic, Reid.”

He paused. “Everything’s gonna be fine. And if it isn’t…you’ll find someone else.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Reid mumbled.

“I get that. I just meant you can.”

“No! No, I can’t.”

Morgan almost asked why, but the question died on his lips when he looked at Spencer. He took a step back.

“You’re in love with her,” Derek said. 

Spencer started to protest, and then stopped. He looked away from Morgan. After a couple more seconds of silence, Reid nodded.

“Does she know?” Morgan asked.

Reid shook his head. “I could never find the right time to tell her.”

Morgan paused. He placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. Reid looked up and met his reassuring brown eyes.

“That talk she wants to have when you get back? Seems about as right as any other time.”

Reid dropped his eyes again.

“Tell her,” Morgan said. “She deserves to have all the facts.”

Reid sighed.

“Don’t get all pissy cause you know I’m right,” Derek teased, ruffling Spencer’s hair.

Reid cracked a smile. Spencer shoved Morgan’s shoulder aside. Morgan countered by throwing his arm around Reid and pulling him into a side hug.

“Everything will be okay, Reid,” Morgan said. “I think you’ll like how that conversation turns out.”

“How do you know?”

Morgan shrugged.

“Call it a profiler’s intuition,” he said. “Now, come on. We need you focused here.”

Spencer nodded.

“Thanks, Morgan,” he said.

“Anytime, pretty boy,” Derek said.

“Wh— Uh, could you maybe stop with that nickname for a while?”

* * *

Zoe wrapped Cecily in a hug the moment they saw her. Cece fell into their arms, and all her problems didn’t seem so terrible. Her best friend was magical. They sat down in the library. Zoe insisted they cuddle so Cece was in Zoe’s lap. After many hugs and Zoe’s heavy pour of wine, Cecily managed to catch them up on her latest…romantic…endeavors.

“So are we upset that he left like that?” Zoe said when Cecily paused at the end of her tale. “Are we having regrets? Are we slashing his car tires?”

“He doesn’t have a car,” Cece said.

“Stealing his library card?”

Cecily gasped in horror. They both giggled. Cece paused.

“No, I’m not having regrets. I just… I’ve never felt like this before.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Zoe asked.

“In an I don’t know way.”

Zoe stayed quiet, allowing their friend more space to speak if she needed it.

“It was incredible, Zoe,” Cece said. “And I don’t mean that in a super cliché I’ve never had good sex before type way. Like it was, legitimately, one of the best experiences of my life, and I… And now, I’m over here questioning everything that I did and just generally feeling awful but also not and he’s gone and –”

“– Okay, okay, let’s not spiral again. I got you. It’s a lot. Good sex is one thing, but good sex with someone you’re in love with is an entirely different thing. You’re overwhelmed. That’s understandable.”

Cecily swiped a stray tear away. Zoe studied her for a moment.

“Mind if I ask you something?” they said.

Cece gestured for them to proceed as she took a drink.

“What did you guys do for aftercare?” Zoe asked.

“Wh…uh…we sort of skipped that part.”

“Like you guys didn’t have a conversation about it beforehand or…?”

“No, we’ve talked about it! We just…we sort of went until we were both tired and then fell asleep, so it didn’t happen.”

Zoe made a disappointed face, and Cece dropped her eyes to stare into her wine glass.

“So I’m gonna go out on a limb here, and say that’s probably contributing to at least some of what’s going on,” they said. “I know I’m the last person to lecture you on how your sex life should work, but that’s not safe so please talk to your partner about it, and maybe don’t skip it next time.”

Cecily took a long drink of her wine, and didn’t meet Zoe’s eyes.

“You’re right,” she said. “I should’ve known better.”

“It’s okay. I just want you to be safe. Drop can be a motherfucker.”

Cecily scoffed, and nodded. Zoe hugged her tighter.

“Thank you for being here,” Cece said after a minute of silence. “It helps.”

“Of course,” they said. “What’s the point of making your own schedule if you can’t suddenly clear it to day drink with your best friend?”

Cece laughed.

“Seriously though,” Zoe said, their voice sincere. “I’m glad I can be here. I see how hard you’ve worked, and how much you’ve grown, and I’m so proud of you and the badass you are. I have all the faith you’ll come out of this better than ever. And I hear how happy he makes you, and I can tell you've stumbled onto something really special – even though I refuse to make a final judgment call on him until after I’ve threatened him in person!”

“Zoe, the man catches psychopaths for a living.”

“Like I give a shit. You’re my person, and I will defend you, regardless of who you decide to swap bodily fluids with.”

Cece smirked. “Yeah, well, I’m not some maiden in need of defending.”

“I fucking know that, but you’re still stuck with me! It’s part of our friendship contract. And our actual business contract too, I’m pretty sure.”

“Mmmm I don’t remember that.”

“It was in the footnotes. Ya know, like how the infernal contracts get you.”

“Ah, yes. Or the fae.”

Zoe shrugged, a teasing glint in their eye. Cece laughed. The friends finished their drinks.

“Okay,” Zoe said, setting the empty glasses down and taking out their phone. “Enough wallowing, I –”

“– I’m not wallowing!”

“Cece, it looks like an earthquake rolled through here.”

“I was organizing!”

“You were stress cleaning!”

Cece huffed, but didn’t have a good comeback.

“As I was saying…” they said. “I don’t have to head back to New York until late Wednesday and I plan to spoil the fuck out of you until then.”

“I do love being spoiled.”

“Yes, and in true Zoe Walker fashion I TTRPG-ified your selection process for what we do.”

They fished a rainbow colored twenty sided die out of their pocket and handed it to Cece.

“Roll for good times,” Zoe said.

* * *

It was late Thursday night when the jet touched down in Virginia. As the team waited to deplane, Spencer wrote a text to Cecily, but abandoned it a second later when Hotch informed everyone they were due back at work the next morning. There was no point in telling her he was home if he had to turn right back around and leave again. He sighed, and took a cab to his apartment.

He let himself in, shut the door, and tossed all of his bags on the floor. Spencer stood in the dark, and buried his face in his hands. He just wanted them to be happy again. Like they were that morning. Like they were before he ruined everything.

Reid considered face planting on his couch and trying to sleep, but knew he wouldn’t get any rest. Instead, he walked into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He stopped when he saw the stack of books on the table. There was enough latent light in the apartment for him to see a splash of the cover art. It was the Thrawn Trilogy he’d reserved.

He would’ve cried, except his attention was pulled to the small window by a loud noise outside. Rain. It was downpouring.

Spencer stared at the water racing down his window pane for a second.

And then ran out the door.

* * *

Cecily’s fingers flew across the keyboard. She copied over the scrawls from her notebook, making slight edits as she went. The world dropped out of focus as she concentrated on her work. Cece became oblivious to everything around her, save for Took who begged for affection as he lounged in her lap. Her focus broke when she paused to rub her eyes, and noticed how tired she was. Cece glanced at the clock. Shit, how did it get to be so late?

She stood, stretching her legs, and looked around the room. It was raining outside. Cecily saved her document, closed her laptop, closed her notebook, and headed for her bedroom.

There was a knock at her door.

She froze. What the actual fuck?!

A second knock sounded, louder than the first. Cece, now angry as well as confused, crossed to the door, and looked out the peephole. She threw open the door a second later.

Dr. Spencer Reid, soaked from head to toe, stood on her porch trying to catch his breath.

“I know…this looks…odd,” he said. “And I almost…chickened out…but… You said you’ve always wanted a scene in the rain. It’s not a fight, but I do have something to confess.”

He held out his hand to her.

“Come outside?”

Cecily blinked at him

“ Please ?”

Cecily didn’t say anything for a long moment. She did blink again, and glanced down at her clothes. She was wearing an oversized Singer Salvage t-shirt and pajama shorts that had little dragons on them. Not exactly standard wardrobe for a dramatic scene in the rain.

But he was back.

Spencer was here. With her.

And he was offering her his hand, looking like some wayward timelord, as if he’d stepped out of the pages of every Doctor Who fic she’d ever written.

But this wasn’t fiction. This was her life.

Cecily nodded, and took his hand.

Spencer’s eyes lit up as he smiled. He led her off the porch into the front yard. Cold rain hit her skin, sending a shock through her system and drenching her. She watched Spencer as he scuttled around in the muddy grass. He looked up at the sky and over at the streetlights, and brought her over to a random corner of the yard.

“Okay riiiiiiiight theeeeere,” Spencer said.

He placed her in a specific spot, his hands bracing her arms for a moment. Her back was towards the house, and she noticed the light spilling from her windows disappeared inches before her feet. He’d framed her in the light.

“Then I’ll go over here,” he muttered, letting go of her.

Spencer planted his feet about a stone’s throw away from her; too far for her to touch, but close enough where they weren’t shouting. He’d…he’d done his homework.

“The unnecessary amount of space between us is for regency-accurate decorum, obviously,” he said. “Or is it for extra, unnecessary drama? I could never – ”

“ – I’m in love with you, Spence.”

Spencer froze. Cece shut her eyes tight, certain she’d just made a horrible mistake. But now that first thought was out in the open, and she couldn’t very well put the rest of them back so she kept speaking.

“I’m so in love with you. I have been for awhile, I just didn’t know how to tell you. Spencer, you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re kind, and you’re funny, and you’re so hot, and every day, every hour, every second I spend with you, I feel like I’m home. I didn’t even know that was possible . Being your girlfriend these past few months has been nothing short of amazing, and the other night…when we…I…that was one of the best nights of my life. I just… I love you.”

The sound of pouring rain was all the response her speech garnered. Cecily opened her eyes, and hazarded a glance in his direction. He looked stunned. Cece blinked back a few tears, and met his gaze.

“Y – You’re in love with me?” Spencer asked.

Cecily nodded, not having the courage to speak again.

“Cece, I–I—I came here tonight to…” his sentence broke off.

Spencer ran his hands through his rain soaked hair for a moment. She waited.

“ I’m in love with you !” he said.

It was Cece’s turn to look stunned.

“What?” she heard herself saying.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to tell you, I-I-I’m in love with you. And I’ve wanted to tell you that for so long, but I didn’t know if I could, and I didn’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re…You’re the greatest love of my life, Cecily. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep. You’re beautiful, and brilliant, and I am constantly left in awe of your strength, and your passion, and your grace. You’ve woken parts of my soul I didn't even know were there, and you make me feel… things I…Cece, I am so completely…hopelessly…desperately in love with you.”

Cecily couldn’t believe her ears. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to laugh or scream or run around in circles until she had no energy left to stand. Her head felt woozy, and her body felt like it was on fire, but at the same time the pouring rain seeped into her skin and chilled her bones. All she could really do was cry as his words bounced around in her brain and echoed in her soul.

“Oh fuck decorum!” he said.

Spencer closed the distance between them in one, long, easy stride. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and cradled her face in his other hand. Cecily’s whole world stopped, suspended in the space between heartbeats. She stared up at the man she was in love with as he stared down at her.

And then Spencer kissed her.

…

Cecily had spent her whole life dreaming of that kiss.

She finally understood the magic in fairytales; how a simple kiss could end a coma, or break a curse, or stop a war.

Her soul lit up like a pyre.

“ Oh god ,” she moaned, and clutched at Spencer’s shirt collar as the world dropped out from under her.

After a few precious seconds, Spencer broke off the kiss. Without so much as a thought, the pair clung to each other in a tight hug, her arms wrapping around his neck, and his arms wrapping around her waist. Steam curled off their exposed skin.

“Don’t let go,” Cece said.

“I won’t,” he promised, and tightened his hold on her.

“Sorry if I ruined your rain scene,” Spencer said.

“No,” Cece said, her voice breaking. “No, it’s perfect . You’re perfect. Thank you .”

He smiled.

“I can’t believe you’re in love with me,” she said.

“How could I not be?”

Cece pressed her face into his shoulder, and tightened her hold on him.

“Can you stay?” she asked.

“Yes. I told Hotch I wasn’t coming back in till Monday."

Cecily heaved a sigh of relief, and nuzzled into him. Spencer bent his head, and softly kissed her neck.

“I owe you a weekend,” he whispered. “And an apology.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she whispered back. “But I’ll gladly take your time.”

“Take all of it then.”

Cece loosened their hug enough so she could kiss him. It was soft, and slow, and sweet. When she pulled away, they kept their faces close and looked into each other's eyes.

“I’m so in love with you, Spencer Reid,” she said.

“And I’m so in love with you, Cecily Duke.”

That weekend, Cecily and Spencer talked through everything that had happened and their separate anxiety spirals and convictions they’d both ruined everything. There was more crying, and a lot of kissing, and a few declarations of idiocy. They hashed out an aftercare routine which was then utilized more than a few times. Afterall, they were in love.

“No other word makes my mouth as tender as your name”

— Emery Allen

Chapter Text

"He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking."

— Leo Tolstoy

Spencer’s anxiety didn’t get better overnight. This was all new, and newness meant awkward hand placements and unnecessary apologies and communication problems he didn’t have the answers to yet. But every day, he woke up and he showed up for her. Like she did for him. And every night when he fell asleep, more often than not in her arms, he knew this life with her was what he wanted. Anxiety and all.

Spencer sat on his couch reading when Cecily opened the door to his apartment, arms laden with shopping bags. She kicked the door closed, and somehow managed to relock it. Then Cece turned and saw him on the couch. Her face lit up with a smile. Spencer, who had paused reading to look at her, felt the corners of his own mouth twist upwards into a grin.

“Oh good!” Cece said. “You’re back already.”

He nodded. “Do you need some help with those?”

“No, I got it.”

Spencer closed his book, got up, and helped her anyways. As he slipped the canvas bags out of her fingers and into his, Cecily shrugged out of her jacket and set her duffle bag down near the doorway. They crossed over into the kitchen.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Cece said. “I got stuff for soup. Figured I could make that, and we could stay in and keep reading Two Towers . If that’s okay with you?”

Her question made him pause and glance at her. Cece looked at him, her eyes wide and almost fearful; like she still didn’t know he would do anything she asked of him.

“That sounds… perfect , Cece,” he said after a moment.

She smiled. He loved it when she smiled. He loved being the cause of her smile even more.

He turned away from her to set the bags down. They unpacked the groceries, putting items in their proper places. Cece asked him about his day, and the two caught each other up on the mundane aspects of their existence. Spencer put the last of the items away, and closed the fridge. When he turned back around, Cece was facing him and holding a bouquet of flowers in her hands. He shot her a quizzical look. She offered him the bouquet.

“I got these for you,” Cece said.

His hands reached out and took the bouquet from her. He stared down at it.

“You got me flowers?” he asked, his voice a distant echo.

His brain started to list out the names of the different flowers, and the color theory behind why they would be chosen for this bouquet, and the different meanings for each of them. Soft ivory lily of the valley, and blush pink garden roses, and golden colored baby’s breath, and indigo cornflowers. Then Spencer blinked, and the information vanished as fast as it had appeared, replaced by a different fact.

“No one has ever gotten me flowers before,” Spencer said.

His voice broke as he admitted that to her. He glanced up to meet her eyes. Her expression was thoughtful, sincere. Somehow he knew she understood what her insignificant gesture meant to him.

“I figured you’d say that,” Cecily said. “So I knew you wouldn’t have a vase, which is why I got you a really big mason jar too. You can put the flowers in there, and whenever they die you can still use the jar as like a drinking glass cause I know you’ve been saying recently you don’t drink enough water. Thought that might help.”

She took the mason jar in question out of a nearby bag, and held it between them. She smiled up at him. Not expectant. Just loving. Spencer felt his cheeks flush, and he dropped his eyes.

“Thank you, Cece,” he managed to say. “I– This is– Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome, Spencer,” she said. “I hope they make you happy.”

Then she added in a rush: “And that you like think of me when you look at them or whatever.”

Reid smiled. Cecily reached over and set the jar on the counter. Spencer leaned down, and kissed her cheek. It was quick, light, and he felt horribly awkward about it the second after he’d done it. Cece smiled at him. She brought a hand up to his face, fingertips running across the line of his jaw and keeping his face close to hers.

“ Try again ,” Cecily murmured.

It wasn’t a command. It could have been. Spencer wouldn't have minded all that much if it was. He kissed her waiting lips.

Slow. She liked it best when he took his time. When their tongues could play with each other. When she could feel him dangle off her lips.

Her lips…

Gods, her lips!

The flower bouquet slipped through Spencer’s fingers and crashed to the floor as he grabbed Cece by the waist. His fingers dug into her lower back. Cecily brought her free hand up to the base of his neck, and pulled on a fistfull of his hair. Spencer moaned. A few seconds later, she broke away. Cece giggled. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

Spencer’s face lingered near hers, the echo of their last kiss still on his mind. His half-lidded eyes drank in Cece’s features; the slight catch in her breath as she sucked in air, the trail of her tongue on her lips, the spark in her cerulean eyes.

Cecily traced along his jawline, and tucked her index finger under his chin. Spencer felt his heart skitter in his chest.

“Um th…” Spencer stuttered. “The soup can wait, right?”

“Yup,” came Cece’s immediate reply.

She gave him a very sloppy kiss, and then headed towards the bedroom. Spencer followed. He reached out to take her hand, and his long fingers dangled off of her palm. Cecily walked into the room first, and Spencer shut the door after them.

She pulled him close. Spencer sank into her kiss. His hands cradled her face, and then moved back to tug on her hair. He felt her hands grab onto his hips and hold him against her. His eyes flicked closed, and all of his other senses kicked into overdrive. Each low moan that rumbled in her throat, the sensation of her palms pressed against his waist, how she smelled like autumn leaves and pine needles and old paper, the feverish intensity of her lips, the silken soft texture of her curls between his fingers, each individual point where their bodies connected and her warmth sunk into his bones. All of it coursed through his consciousness with blistering intensity and left his head spinning and his lungs empty.

He broke away from her mouth and gasped for air. Cecily didn’t pause. She moved her mouth down his neck, her lips trailing a line of sloppy kisses as she went. Spencer let out a strangled moan, and bent towards her. He blinked open his eyes, and caught a flash of her smile.

Gods, he wanted her.

He needed her.

Needed more of her kiss. More of her sounds. More of her touch.

In an instant, his brain locked onto the fact that Cece’s hands hadn’t strayed from his waistline.

Why.

Whhhhy?

Why? why? why?

Why wasn’t she touching him?

Why were his clothes still on?

Why weren’t her hands everywhere? anywhere?! somewhere!

Why?!

Why, whywhywhywh–fuck.

“Are you… Are you teasing me?” he asked.

Cecily laughed. She kissed along his neck, and jawline till her mouth was at his ear.

“Not on purpose,” she whispered. “I just want to properly appreciate you.”

“Oh. Um , okay.”

Cecily laughed again. The sound made him shiver. She planted a quick kiss on his lips, and then her mouth moved back down to the crook of his neck. Her tongue swirled against his skin as she sucked on him. Spencer’s eyes rolled back into his head, and a moan escaped his lips.

“I, um – Fuuuck …”

Her tongue swirled again, and it was all Spencer could do to keep his knees from buckling. And then her lips were on his again, and he was moaning into her mouth, and his tongue was twined around hers, and he could feel her smile, and hear her pleasure, and –

And – and – andandand –

And she was taking her time. Appreciating him. She was appreciating him, and he so desperately wanted to be appreciated, he really did, and it didn’t matter that he felt like he would vibrate out of his skin because all that mattered was her , and what she wanted, and what she was asking for, because all he could think to do or say or speak was for her pleasure.

“Speeeeeence?” Cece murmured. “Are you okay?”

Spencer swallowed. He met her eyes, and choked down a whimper. And somehow managed to nod his head in the affirmative.

“Do you want me to go faster?”

Spencer nodded.

“Are you getting desperate?”

The way that question rolled off her tongue made his cock twitch. He tried to steady his breath as he gave her another nod. She smiled up at him. The expression was sweet and cunning, and his fingers were still tangled up between her smashed curls so her hair was all messy and gods ! she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

She kissed him again.

“You’re being so good for me, Spence,” she moaned into his mouth.

Spencer bit back an exclamation as her hands moved from his waist, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Her fingers lingered against his bare skin. The heat of her touch invaded him until his whole body burned.

“So patient,” Cece murmured.

Cece peeled away his shirt and tossed it on the floor. She smiled at him again, and then pressed her lips against his chest. Her tongue ran across his torso in a sloppy, curving line. Spencer whimpered, and his hands grabbed blindly at her waist, getting stuck bunching the fabric of her jumper.

“So pretty.”

She hooked a finger beneath his chin, and brought his face to hers. Spencer moved without thought, without hesitation. He followed her direction as she made his head glide this way and that until she pressed her lips against his again.

“So willing to please,” Cece said.

His hands moved from her waist down to grab her ass as she kissed him again.

“That is what you want, right Spence? To please me?”

“Y-y-es, love.” His voice was so breathy, Spencer almost didn’t recognize it. “Whatever you want.”

She kissed him, her hands fisting around his hair. Spencer moaned into her mouth, and returned the kiss with equal intensity. Cece pulled away, and backed up towards the bed. Spencer’s feet followed before his brain could tell him to move. Cece let go of his hand to undo the buttons on her jumper, and a second after, Spencer decided to help her with the fastenings because he couldn’t bear the thought of not touching her. He pulled her dress off, and tossed it aside.

Cecily sat down on the bed, posing herself on the edge of the mattress. Spencer sank to his knees on the floor in front of her. He didn’t know why. It’s not like she’d asked him to go there. He just knew that’s where he should be.

His hands ran up her thighs, and his fingers hooked around the waistband of her tights. He pulled those down, and threw them away. As soon as her legs were free of the mesh fabric, Spencer buried his face in her lap. He pressed his lips against her thigh, and kissed her skin over and over and over again.

“Oh, Spence !” Cece breathed. “Don’t stop.”

Spencer responded by swirling his tongue against her leg. His teeth gently dug into her thigh, and his lips closed tight around that section of her skin as he sucked on her. Cecily gasped. With a self-satisfied smile, Spencer moved his mouth to her other thigh, and repeated the process. Kiss, swirl of the tongue, bite, suck…until her sounds told him she was pleased with his work.

Cece shifted positions so she could slide her underwear off. As it slipped down to her thigh, Spencer snagged the elastic strap with his teeth and used his mouth to pull the garment the rest of the way down her leg.

As Spencer returned his mouth to her thighs, Cecily hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. Spencer turned his head to that side and sank his teeth into her muscle. His hand came up to claw at her outstretched leg, nails grazing up and down the entire length of her thigh before finding purchase near her ass.

He kissed further up her thigh, dragging his tongue along as he went. Cece moaned. One of her hands clutched at the bedsheet, and the other found its way to his head. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and then bunched into a tight fist. Spencer couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips. The vibration echoed into her skin, and he felt her shudder.

Then Spencer took his mouth off of her leg for a moment to coat the fingers of his free hand in his own spit. His gaze drifted up her body, and then locked onto her face. He wanted to – no, he needed to see her reaction to what he was about to do. He needed to study the way she moved, the way she ached. He needed to know how well she liked him. How best to please her.

He ran one of his slick fingers down the length of her folds. The motion was gentle, and slow. After a few passes, he added a second finger. Then his fingers lingered at her hole. After teasing the entrance a few times, Spencer eased one of his fingers inside of her.

Cecily moaned. Okay, that was a good reaction. Involuntary, from what he could tell. Spencer pressed further.

This time, he thrust with two fingers, instead of one. And curled them inside of her.

“ Goddddddd ,” Cece moaned, and threw her head back. Her fingers flexed and tightened in his hair. Her breathing sputtered.

Spencer repeated the curling motion with his fingers. Then he pulled his fingers out, ran his fingertips around the lip of her entrance, and then thrust them back inside her. Once. Twice. Three times. As each thrust reached its apex, he curled his fingers back in on themselves.

All the while, his eyes studied her body. He made note of every hitch in her breath, every noise she made, every shudder, every tremble, every miniscule involuntary glitch of her muscles.

He pulled his fingers out to their tips again. This time Spencer immediately thrust them back inside her again, curling his fingers as they entered her. He repeated that same motion a few times, being sure to keep a slow, consistent pace.

“ Fuck … God … Spence! ” Cece cried, tugging on his hair again. “Juuuuust like thaat. God! Your fingers feel so good!”

The last bit of praise morphed into a moan. Spencer contained his excitement over her words enough to continue the movement of his fingers. He was careful not to alter anything; keeping the same pressure, and speed, and intensity in each thrust. However, the fingers on his other hand tensed, nails digging into the surface of her skin. She didn’t seem to notice the prick of pain this caused, or, if she did, it only heightened her pleasure.

Spencer turned his head, and kissed her inner thigh again. His tongue swirled against her skin, a messy punctuation to the thrust of his fingers. Cecily made an obscene noise, and fell back onto the bed. Her hips arched up and into his hand. Spencer shifted to accommodate her new position without so much as pausing the movement of his fingers.

He kept his tongue pressed against her thigh. He kissed and sucked and bit her flesh. Her thigh was soon covered in his drool and teeth marks. Sometimes his mouth moved in time with his fingers. Other times it was in direct opposition, ensuring she always had some sort of stimulus. Her fingers pulled at his hair, the pleasurable sensation egging him on.

His eyes slipped closed as he worked.

His mind flooded with her sounds and with her taste.

He became oblivious to everything else.

He was so engrossed in pleasing her, he didn’t notice the marks his mouth left on her thigh. He didn’t notice when she cried out his name. He didn’t notice when her cum coated his hand. His fingers kept moving, in the same slow, steady, pace; and his mouth kept murmuring against her thigh.

The next thing he registered was Cecily gripping his hair, and pulling his head out from between her legs.

“Spence!” she said.

His mouth released her thigh as his head came up, and his glazed eyes found her face. He must have looked confused. He felt confused.

“ Spencer, you are shaking ,” she said, her voice gentle.

I am?

He was.

And as he realized this, every ache of his own repressed arousal crashed over him. He froze. He felt like the wind had just been kicked out of him.

Cece pulled him up, and placed him on the bed. He followed her direction, too weak to do it on his own, and fell back onto the pillows. Cecily eased him out of his pants and his underwear and threw those onto the floor. Spencer stared up at the ceiling as he felt her hands run up his thighs and open his legs.

The next thing he became aware of was her lips closing around his throbbing cock.

It was a miracle he didn’t cum then and there.

Instead, he whimpered. Pathetically. Profusely. Loudly.

Cece took him deeper. She swirled her tongue in a long spiral, and then sucked on the tip of his cock. He managed to last for a few more minutes under her mouth's attention. When she felt he was about to climax, Cece took her mouth away and let him cum.

Spencer made a complete and utter mess.

And then she used her tongue to clean him up.

Eventually, the hazy fog of pleasure cleared from Spencer’s mind. He felt his higher cognitive functions start to return. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with oxygen, and exhaled. He did this a few times. His heart rate slowed to his baseline. He relaxed each of his still clenched muscles. And then he turned his head to look at the woman lounging next to him.

Cece still wore the sweater they hadn’t bothered to take off. She rested on her side, turned towards him, but her face was angled away from him. Her focus appeared to be on her legs, and Spencer saw her tracing the darkening marks he’d left on her thigh. He didn’t say anything. His heart leapt into his throat as he watched her fingers move. Fuck, was she upset? But then he noticed the expression on her face. Her mouth held mirth, glee, a bit of disbelief, but not in a bad way. In an…exciting way. And her eyes…gods, her eyes were so intense. So full of desire. So full of subtle, and quiet, and impossible power.

Oh…

Oh.

Did she – ?

Had he – ?

She liked that he had marked her.

She liked that he had marked her.

…

Was it possible to love a person this much?

Surely there had to be a limit, right? He’d have to hit capacity at some point. He couldn’t just go on falling deeper and deeper and deeper in love with her…right?!

Cece glanced up and noticed him staring. She smirked. Spencer blinked.

“H-hi,” he stammered.

She dropped her eyes as her smirk widened into a smile. Spencer blushed. After a moment (which felt like years to Spencer), she raised her eyes again, leaned over, and kissed him. Her hand ran through his hair, and gripped the side of his head. His whole body rolled towards her.

Spencer kissed her lips and then, when she pulled her face away, kissed her outstretched arm. His eyes never left her face.

“Spencer,” she said, her voice very quiet. “Iiiiiiii……um….can you….do you…..I… I want to go again.”

Spencer stared at her.

“Is that…like…are you…?” Cece tried to ask.

Yes.

Yes, yeah, yup.

That

Of course.

Yes.

More. For you.

Yes.

Say that outloud, Spencer!

“Wh-wh-what do you want? What do you need?” he asked. “Where do you want me?”

Cece smiled. “Well, I mean, if you’re up for it, I want you back between my legs.”

Yes.

Yesyesyesyes.

Fuck.

Yes. Fuck, yes.

Speak. The words. Spencer.

“Okay. Okay. Did you want…” and he vaguely held up his hands. “…again?”

“Actuallllly,” Cece said. “I was thinking this time you could use your mouth.”

Gods, I love this woman!

Spencer nodded so hard he could have been a bobble head.

“Of of course. As you wish, love. Um…”

He shifted in the bed, not really sure where to start. Cece smiled. She took off her remaining clothes, and then pulled him into a kiss. Spencer was more than happy to follow her direction. He pressed against her and his hands glided over her body, teasing her breasts and groping her ass.

Cecily rolled, her back landing on the bed. Spencer landed on top of her. Their kiss didn’t break.

His lips trailed down her face to her neck as his hands trailed down her curves.

“Take your time,” Cece said.

That… that had the cadence of a command.

And Spencer obeyed.

He kissed down her shoulder and across her collarbone. Then down to her breasts. He sucked, and kissed, and teased her nipples with his tongue. He couldn't decide which side needed more attention so his mouth lingered between them as his tongue danced back and forth. After a few giggles and more than a dozen instances of Cecily pulling his hair, Spencer continued moving down her body.

His fingers rolled over her curves, and his lips moved after. He lovingly traced each of her stretch marks. Spencer lingered again when he reached her hips. He drug his tongue in a messy line across her pelvis. Cece gasped so he repeated the action, this time kissing and sucking on her as he went. He sometimes dipped below the line of her hips, but only to lick at the top of her thighs.

Then, unsure whether he’d taken enough time and unwilling to disobey her, Spencer decided to attend to her thigh. The one he’d hadn’t spent as much time with. He wasn’t sure if he could make identical marks to the ones on her opposite thigh, but he could at least make it symmetrical. Balanced. So his mouth worked against her inner thigh.

Cecily moaned with each swirl of his tongue. She bucked her hips. She was growing impatient. He knew what she wanted from him; her unspoken commands. He could see how wet she was. He figured she was about thirty seconds away from forcing his tongue inside of her.

Spencer repositioned himself between her legs. But before he went down on her in earnest, he paused to look at her. Cecily stretched out across his bed, legs bent at the knee on either side. Open to him. Her chest rose and fell in a mesmerizing rhythm. Her head was thrown back so he could witness the perfect curve of her neck, and the bliss in her smiling, gasping lips. Her eyes were shut, but her lashes fluttered in a wonderful dance. Her arms were lifted over her head, one hand tangled in her hair, the other disappeared beneath pillows.

Every inch of her… exposed to him.

Spencer reached over and caressed her curves, his fingertips dancing down her side to loop around her stomach. His touch was so light, so gentle, convinced that she would shatter beneath his fingers. Cecily gasped. And in that hitch of her breath, that rise and fall of her chest, Spencer’s mind filled with a thousand and one thoughts.

Remember this moment. Remember every damn detail of how breathtaking she is because there is nothing in this world more beautiful than her.

This is a terribly awesome privilege that she just gave me.

Does she know that I understand that?

Does she know how much her trust means? How much her body means?

Can I… Can I be with her forever?

Please?

Before her chest rose in another stuttering breath, Spencer pressed his mouth against her folds. Cecily’s legs went over his shoulders, and she crossed her feet so her ankles locked together. Spencer braced one of her legs with one hand, his fingers curling around the top and digging into her inner thigh. He laid his other arm across her lower stomach. It wasn’t to pin her down. Just to offer a soft pressure, a slight weight. He made sure she knew he wouldn’t impede her movement, teasing her with his tongue just enough so her hips jerked up. He noted how she settled back into the bed, more relaxed than she had been a moment before.

His heart pounded in his chest.

She let out a short moan as his warm breath tickled her. Spencer traced his tongue in a line down her folds, and swirled it around her entrance. Her thighs tightened around his head.

“ Fuuuuck !” Cece moaned.

He traced his tongue back up, and as he did so, sealed his lips against her clit, creating light suction. It was light . He knew that, because he really, really wanted to suck harder. Her legs squeezed him again, and her hips jerked up, and she cried out.

She was wired .

Sensitive.

She could feel… everything .

He had to be careful.

Spencer released the pressure in his lips with a kiss. He opted to use his tongue to please her, running it down her folds in a slow, sweeping figure eight. Soon his face was a mess of slick and spit. Her taste ruined his appetite for anything else. His drool mixed with her arousal and ruined the blanket beneath them.

Cecily moaned and writhed, crying out for him over and over again. Telling him how good he was. Cursing as pleasure invaded her body. It was sweeter than music. His eyes closed as he listened to her.

He moved his mouth down to her entrance, tongue swirling as he went. He waited for a moment once he reached her opening, and then used his tongue to penetrate her.

Several slow, deep thrusts later, and Cece was moaning.

“Speeeeeence,” she cried. “Oh god, Spencer !”

He didn’t let up. Kept the same pace. Slow. Deep. Extending his tongue as far as it would go. This time, he noticed when her body coiled. He noticed the desperate, euphoric tone of her voice as she cried out his name.

He moved his arm as her body arched up and into his mouth. Cecily’s hand grabbed his hair, forcing his face to stay where it was. He pressed his mouth tight against her, and sucked down her cum.

He swallowed.

Then licked her clean.

His tongue didn’t recede until her hand on his head relaxed. Then he removed her legs from his shoulders, easing them back down to the bed. He didn’t have the heart to be out from between them though, so he still placed one leg on either side of where he rested. She didn’t seem to mind.

Spencer watched her come down.

“Spence?” Cece said, her voice still breathy.

He made a noise of acknowledgement.

“Are you single?”

Spencer guffawed. Cecily giggled over the noise. When they both settled down again, Spencer ran his hand up her leg to rest on her thigh.

“Sorry, I’m kind of smitten with my girlfriend,” he said, smirking.

“Kind of?” she said with mock offense.

“ Completely smitten, I mean. She is the most beautiful woman in the world. How could I not be?”

“Damn, and here I thought I had a chance cause you made me cum. Shit.”

Spencer chuckled to himself as he bent down to kiss her thigh.

“I hope she knows how lucky she is,” Cece said.

Spencer’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t know much about luck,” he said. “Hope though…”

His fingers traced over the marks on her legs.

“I hope…that she knows…how much I care .”

He didn’t know why his voice broke. Spencer looked away from her. The next thing he knew, Cecily was kissing him. And he was kissing her back. And she didn’t stop. It wasn’t heavy, or very hot, but gods , did it feel good.

“ I do ,” Cecily whispered into his lips. “I do know.”

Spencer relaxed into her. Relaxed into the bed. Into her arms. Into her lips. Into the sensation of her fingers in his hair, and her tongue in his mouth.

Eventually, Cecily pulled away, and rested her face against his. She left her fingers tangled in his hair. Both of them sighed.

“Do you wanna cuddle?” Cecily asked.

“Yes, but we should probably…” and he mimed drinking. “…first.”

“Oh, right. Who’s turn is it?”

“I’ll go.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I know, but I want to. You rest. I’ll be back in a second.”

Cecily kissed him on the forehead, and then laid back down on the bed. She tossed off the dirty blanket and made do with whatever else was lurking under his duvet. Spencer smiled to himself, and got up. He threw his wizard robe over his shoulders (but didn’t bother to close it) and headed out into the kitchen.

* * *

They lay in bed, cuddling. Cece was on her back, Spencer’s head resting on her bare chest as she played with his hair. His arm draped across her waist in a very haphazard manner. Their discarded snack plate sat on the nightstand. An odd assortment of blankets were tangled around them, and Spencer still sort of wore his wizard robe, even though it was open so they could have skin-to-skin contact.

“Do you know what I just realized?” Cece asked.

“Hmm?” he responded.

“We’ve never talked about nicknames. Or honorifics.”

Spencer paused.

“Huh… I guess we haven’t,” he said after a short while. “Was there something you’d like me to call you?”

Cecily considered his question, her fingers tugging on his hair.

“Well, I like it when you use my name,” she said.

“For every day or for sex?”

“Both. And I don’t like the term baby or any variation thereof.”

“Me neither.”

“Okay, good. Aside from those…I did…really like…when you called me love.”

Spencer smiled. Cecily felt him kiss her chest. Then he turned his face up towards her.

“Iiiiiii liked calling you love,” he said. “Because you are. My love.”

Cecily felt her cheeks flush as they shared a smile. She shifted her position so she was at eye level with him, and kissed Spencer. When she pulled away, Spencer was blushing.

“What about you?” she asked after a moment. “What would you like me to call you?”

“I have enjoyed everything you’ve called me so far. I don’t really think I would want you to use anything other than my name for normal, everyday stuff. I liked when you called me a clever boy though.”

“When did I call you clever? I mean, you are, so that’s accurate, but when did I do that?”

“It was the first thing you ever texted me.”

“Shut up, no it wasn’t.”

Spencer nodded. Cece looked embarrassed and buried her face in a pillow.

“What was I thinking?!” she groaned.

“That it would be cute,” Spencer said, bringing a hand up to brush aside her hair. “And it was.”

Cece tilted her head to look at him.

“If you say so…” she mumbled.

“Oh you will have to stop calling me pretty boy,” Spencer said.

“What? Whhhhhhy? You’re so pretty!”

Cecily tugged on a loose strand of his hair

“Um, because Morgan calls me that, and he technically had the nickname first. And the last few times he’s used it, I sort of couldn’t think about anything else but you and I might have spilled a few too many cups of coffee in the process. Besides, I will not be asking him to stop. I can just picture how that conversation would go: please stop calling me pretty boy because it reminds me how much of a bitch I am to my girlfriend and that’s really not what you’re going for.”

Cece laughed.

“But you’re such a good bitch,” she said between giggles.

Spencer paused. She knew the compliment had landed by the way he couldn’t meet her eyes. He was (probably) tripping over his own thoughts. Cecily smiled.

“That’s not the point,” Spencer said after a moment.

Each of his words were pointed, but his expression was very pleased.

“Ugh, fine!” Cece said. “I will refrain from calling you pretty boy.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

Spencer shook his head, which didn’t do much other than cause his hair to fall in his face. Cecily brushed it all aside again so she could look in his eyes. They shared a quiet moment, heads both resting on the same pillow.

“I trust you,” he said. “And I love how you make me feel.”

Cecily’s smile widened. She dropped her eyes.

“I…um…thaaaaaank yoooou,” Cece said. “Thank you. It’s… I’m honored.”

“The honor is all mine, Cece.”

“Not a chance, genius.”

She pressed her lips against his in a long, slow kiss.

“I love you,” Cecily whispered.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

As they kissed again, the blaring ring of a cellphone echoed through the room. Cecily sighed and pulled away. Spencer didn’t move. She shot him a questioning look.

“My phone’s off,” he said.

“Oh shit!”

Cece darted out of bed, and rummaged through their discarded clothes till she found her phone.

“It’s Penelope…” Cece said.

“Should I answer?” he asked, with a smirk.

Cecily rolled her eyes, and sat back down on the edge of the bed. Spencer came up behind her, throwing a blanket over her shoulders and then wrapping her in a hug. She gave him a grateful smile as she answered the phone.

“Hello?” Cece said.

“Cece! I need to borrow your queer brain and impeccable fashion sense as fast as humanly possible,” Penelope said.

“I’m a little attached to both of those things. Whaaaat exactly do you need them for?”

“I have a date in like an hour, and I have no idea what to wear. Help me ! I’m so desperate I considered calling Morgan.”

“Oh my god, wow. Wait, is the date with that hot gamer you were telling me about?”

“Yes! And I’m freaking out! We’re going to a pottery class. What do you even wear to a pottery class?!”

“Okay, I’ll video call you in like five minutes and we can figure it out.”

“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver. My room looks like a craft store war zone.”

Cece laughed. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

She hung up the phone and turned to her boyfriend. He kissed the tip of her nose, and she smiled.

“Do you think it would be hypocritical of me to give outfit advice without wearing any pants?” Cece asked. “Cause I really don’t want to put any on.”

Spencer laughed.

“I don’t think you should ask that question of the boyfriend who just took off all your clothes,” he said. “I happen to think you look beautiful in whatever you do (or don’t) wear, and, um, thoroughly enjoy your exposed legs and you got some new…temporary tattoos…so uh my opinion is decidedly biased.”

Cecily laughed. Spencer leaned in and kissed her. She smiled into his lips.

“Maybe that’s why I asked…” she murmured, kissing him again.

“Then I guess…” he said, kissing her again before breaking away. “I’ll go get your bag so you can change.”

Cece sighed as Spencer stood up and exited the room. He returned about a minute later with her bag. He set that on the bed next to her, and kissed her on the forehead.

“I’ll go get started on the soup,” he said.

“But I was gonna make that!” Cece said.

“I know, but you’ll be hungry by the time you get off the phone with Penelope. It’s okay. I really don’t mind making it.”

Cecily wanted to protest further, but her heart wasn’t into arguing with him. She conceded, and changed into her pajamas as he left the room again. She called Penelope back. After much deliberating, and a solid pep talk from Cecily, Penelope decided to wear a super cute romper that had dinosaurs on it. Cece wished her luck on the date, hung up, and left the bedroom.

The apartment smelled of delicious soup, and fresh bread. Spencer sat on the couch, head buried in a book. Cecily took a deep breath and closed her eyes, a peaceful smile spreading across her features.

She felt whole. Content. Happy.

Cecily crossed the apartment. She ran her hands through her boyfriend’s hair and kissed the top of his head. Then she moved into the kitchen to finish cooking the soup.

* * *

It was late when Spencer arrived at Cecily’s cottage. He’d come straight from the airfield, and was exhausted from the case they’d just wrapped. He unlocked the door, and stepped inside the dark interior. Took padded across the floor to greet him with a tired meow. Spencer slipped off his shoes and his messenger bag before locking the door. He scooped Took up into his arms, and rubbed the little guy’s belly as he walked through the house. Took was asleep before Spencer reached the bedroom.

Every single light was on in the bedroom. Cecily lay on the bed, curled around her still open notebook, fast asleep. He smiled at the sight.

Spencer quickly turned off the lights, save for one lamp that cast a warm glow on his side of the bed. He set Took down at the foot of the bed, and then moved over to Cece. He slid her notebook and pen out of her grasp, and placed them on the nearby nightstand. Then he tucked her in beneath the warm blankets, and kissed her forehead.

Spencer quickly changed into his pajamas, turned off the light, and climbed under the covers with her. He positioned himself close to her, kissed the side of her head, and wrapped an arm around her waist. Cecily stirred.

“Spence?” she said, her voice groggy. “Is that you?”

Spencer bit back a teasing remark about being “concerned” over who would be crawling into her bed at this hour if it wasn’t him. Instead, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Yes, love, it’s me,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Cece groaned an acknowledgement. Then she rolled over to face him, and cuddled up next to him. Spencer smiled. Her cheek was red and bore a lined impression of her pillowcase. He ran a hand through her hair.

“I was trying to stay awake till you got home,” she mumbled.

Spencer didn’t respond aloud. He just smiled to himself, and continued running his fingers through her hair.

“I wanted to make out with you,” Cece said.

“We can still do that,” Spencer whispered back as he stifled a yawn. “It’ll just have to be tomorrow.”

“And not the normal kind of makeout. The really good kind. Where you use lots of tongue and pull on my hair.”

Spencer paused, wondering in what universe there were different qualities of making out and they weren’t all labeled as “really good.”

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll have you show me the really good making out tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

Spencer sighed. “I promise.”

“Okay, cause you’re gonna have to remember this. I won’t remember this when I wake up.”

“I’ll remember, love.”

Cece made a noise of contentment, and then snuggled close to Spencer. He ensured the blankets wrapped tight around her, and then relaxed into the bed. He waited to make sure she’d fallen back asleep before drifting off himself.

* * *

Cecily sat at her desk in the library, scribbling away into her notebook. It wasn’t the worst writing she’d ever done. She just felt kinda uninspired. She made page count a few paragraphs ago, but she forced herself into finishing the scene she was in the middle of so there would be a good stopping point. It was proving difficult.

It also didn’t help that her boyfriend was distracting . Okay, he wasn’t distracting her on purpose. He was organizing the tippy top shelves in her library because she’d mentioned it at dinner and he volunteered to do it because he was the most wonderful person ever. But he’d worked through most of the shelves so now he was on the ones that were directly in her line of sight. So every time she looked up from her page to stare into the middle distance (which was a common occurrence when writing) she found herself staring at his ass.

He had such a nice ass.

And his jeans were doing wonders for it.

Spencer remained oblivious to her voyeurism, as far as she could tell, and focused on his work. Sometimes, he put all of his weight on one leg so his hips twisted deliciously. Or his hand gripped large volumes as he pulled them down from their shelves, and the book spines filled his palm and stretched his fingers in a way that made Cecily’s mind spin. Or he’d run a free hand through his hair to get it out of his face and she’d catch a glimpse of his eyes.

At one point, he paused his work to tug up his cardigan. The warm fabric pooled around his forearms, and then he rolled up his shirt cuffs, leaving his hands and wrists exposed. Cecily almost snapped her pen in half.

After about the fourth occurrence of writing Spencer into her scene by accident, Cece gave up and started clearing her desk. And that was when he decided to speak.

“Are you going to keep undressing me with your eyes, or are you actually going to undress me?” Spencer asked.

He lobbed the question across the room at Cece as if he were inquiring about their dinner plans, not even turning to face her. Something ignited inside of her. Her eyes sparked, and the arousal she’d been trying to fight burned in her chest.

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a slut I wouldn’t have to,” Cece said.

She almost regretted her words, wondering for a desperate second if they would land the way she wanted. He wasn’t actually being slutty. She was just… so fucking attracted to him! And he’d known she was staring at him?!

“I thought you’d like it,” Spencer said. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder at her and added: “Was I wrong?”

This little slut…

Cece’s eyes narrowed. She took a deep breath.

“That’s besides the point,” she said.

“Is it?” he said, turning to face her.

Cecily didn’t respond with her words. She kept her eyes on him, staring him down. Without looking away, she pulled open one of her desk drawers. Her fingers alighted on a bottle inside. She took it out, shut the drawer, and placed the bottle on the far edge of her desk. The side that was closer to Spencer, of course. With the label out.

Spencer’s eyes flicked down to the bottle, and then back to her face. She saw him swallow.

“Why do you have lube in your desk?” he asked.

“Why are you being a slut?” she shot back.

“Because I want you to fuck me.”

“Then I suppose I have it so I can fuck you.”

He blinked. His eyes flicked down to the bottle of lube again and then back to her.

“Don’t act like a slut and then expect to not be treated like one, Spencer,” Cece said, her tone dripping in sweet derision.

Spencer bowed his head. His hands dropped to his side, and then he clasped them behind his back. He took a couple of half-steps towards her.

“For, um, scientific purposes…how do you treat a slut?” Spencer asked.

“Get on my desk and find out .”

Spencer hesitated. Her threat, her order , hung in the air. Cecily’s heart pounded in her ears.

Spencer ran to her desk.

The second his ass hit the wood, Cecily’s tongue was in his mouth and her hands ripped off his belt. She climbed up onto the desk, using his tie as her handhold, and straddled him. Her hips moved against his, so much so all his movement just echoed back into her body. He was pinned. And the look in his eyes told her he knew it. She grabbed him by the tie, and pulled him into a sitting position so their eyes were level.

“You dirty little slut,” she said, enunciating each word as she spoke them into his mouth. “I am going to fuck you so hard.”

She let go of his tie, and shoved him back down onto the desk. Cece grabbed the bottle of lube before it fell off the edge, disturbed by the vibration of their rocking hips. She stuck the bottle in Spencer’s mouth for safe keeping, and then proceeded to rip open his shirt. Once his chest was exposed, she undid the waistband of his jeans, and pulled his pants and underwear down far enough to expose his cock.

She moved back slightly so she could run a hand along his dick. She let out a short moan as her fingers curled around his shaft.

“Hard already,” Cece said. “What a slut .”

Spencer’s hips were still pinned. His mouth was full. He couldn’t do anything, but whimper and writhe. Which he did. In spades. His hands gripped the sides of the desk, his palms flexing, fingers taut.

Cece eyed him as she did another pass on his cock. She released his dick, and then moved again. This time she hovered over him. Her tongue traced up his stomach, up his abs, up his chest. Then she leaned over his face so she could look in his eyes. He returned her gaze, his attention riveted on her. Her knees and thighs were still so tight around him that he couldn’t move. Not that he would ever dream of moving.

“Your hands should be on me, slut,” she chided. “Not the desk.”

Spencer said something, but the obstruction in his mouth did its job and all that came out was incoherent murmurs. Cece sighed as his fingers found her knees…and then her thighs. His hands moved up, and down her legs, grabbing at her ass. His nails raked her skin. Cecily moaned, and leaned into the movement, grinding back into his fingers and into his dick.

“Use those slutty fingers to take off my underwear,” she ordered.

Spencer didn’t need to nod his approval. His fingers moved immediately, undoing the straps on her hips with quick precision, despite not being able to see the garment. He pulled it out from between her legs, and tossed it away. Then his hands moved back up her skirt, pulling fabric away so she could grind harder against his dick.

She moved again without pausing the sway of her hips. She took the bottle out of Spencer’s mouth and replaced it with her tongue. She made a mess of his mouth. He swallowed down her kisses like he was starving. Cece moaned, and couldn’t resist bringing a hand up to pull on his hair, even though it meant slowing the pace of her hips so she didn’t lose her balance.

As they kissed, Spencer took the opportunity to grope her. His hands went everywhere he could reach, squeezing, caressing, clawing whatever muscles he could get his hands on. He tore at the buttons on her dress, working the front open so he could touch her bare chest. But her legs were his favorite. He kept running his fingers down her flexed thighs, and squeezing her calves, or bracing her hips.

“ Fuck !” Cece breathed. 

She wrenched her mouth away from his, and Spencer let out a desperate, pleading moan.

“You’re such a slut, Spencer,” she said, her voice low, and dark, and dreamy.

Spencer nodded, another whimper escaping his trembling lips. Out of his line of sight, Cecily popped the top off the lube. She watched his eyes go wide, and he quivered beneath her. She pulled back, resting on his thighs, and dropped a dollop of lube onto her fingers. Then she used those fingers to coat his cock.

“Are you ready to be fucked, slut?” Cece asked.

Spencer nodded.

“Yes. Yes, Cece, yes. I’m so ready. I’m such a slut. Please . Please fuck me! Fuck me like the slut you know I am.”

Cecily smiled as he begged. She finished coating his cock, making sure it was good and slick for her. Spencer writhed and twitched the entire time. She recapped the lube, and tossed it aside. Then she cleaned her hand with his cardigan so she wouldn’t have to worry about her grip slipping.

She settled her weight above him. He was still begging. Pleading. Asking her to fuck him so hard he never forgot what a slut he was. She knew he’d shut up with a word from her. Hell, a look would probably do it. But he sounded so pretty. So pathetic. So slutty.

She knew it would be best for her to take her time. To ease his dick inside of her. But she wanted him. She wanted him so bad. She wanted to make him her slut. She wanted him to know it. To feel it. To feel her.

And he was so desperate.

Dr. Spencer Reid, desperate little slut. Her desperate… quivering… pathetic… hard … delicious little slut.