Genius at Work, Chapter 5/15
Jun. 27th, 2010 05:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madlorificGenius at Work
A "Criminal Minds" fanfiction by MadLori
Chapter 5
As the afternoon progressed, Reid was amazed how comfortable he felt at Emily's house. She'd been right, he did have some journals he wanted to read and a draft he wanted to work on for an article he was preparing on behavioral countermeasures. He would gladly have traded work time on these tasks to spend time with Emily, but since she'd suggested it, he was just as glad to be able to do both. When she came downstairs, showered and changed and looking fresh and scrubbed, he was on the couch with his laptop open on his knees. She'd immediately hauled out a thick volume (it looked like a new book on borderline personality disorder that he'd read himself a few months back), curled into the other corner of the couch and started reading.
A little while later, she got up and made a pot of coffee. When she returned to the couch she brought him a cup, which came with a kiss. Then back to reading. It was all so – easy. Was it supposed to be this easy? Wasn't this supposed to be the stage of a new relationship when they were each bending over backwards to impress each other and be as "on" all the time as possible?
Of course, his relationship with Emily wasn't new. It was changing, but it wasn't new. He'd known her for years, they were already comfortable around each other. The fact that they'd now seen each other naked didn't seem to change that.
The next three hours passed quietly, with occasional breaks for discussion of their respective projects. But mostly, they sat together in companionable silence, each with their own task, and Reid felt at home here with her. That was encouraging.
Around four o'clock he was busily typing away on his draft when he felt her eyes on him. He looked over and she'd put her book aside and was just watching him, a little smile on her face. "What?" he said.
She crawled across the couch cushions and settled herself next to him. "I think I'm getting a little crush on you, Dr. Reid."
He chuckled. "Oh yeah?"
"I think so, yeah."
"Well, if you sit next to me in study hall I might like you back." He turned his head to look down into her upturned face; on impulse he rubbed his nose across hers, then leaned in and kissed her.
"I had fun with you these last two weeks," she said, her eyes twinkling.
"Me, too," he said.
"You sound like that surprises you."
"No, it's just that I thought I'd be more impatient to get on with it. But it was kinda fun, wasn't it?"
She nodded. "Having it there but not there, having to keep it quiet. I have not forgiven you for making me spar with Morgan that day, either."
"You have only yourself to blame for wearing that red tank top."
She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, their fingers tangling together. "The only bad part is that now that we're here, how do we go back to work on Monday?"
Reid had been wondering about that, too. "It might not be so bad."
"How do you figure?"
"Well, all the time we're at work we'll know that soon we'll be able to be alone together again, and be like this. Maybe that'll make it easier to act like we're just co-workers."
"Yeah," she said, not sounding too convinced. "It's just going to be hard sitting across from you all day, knowing that I can't go over and kiss you if I want to."
"You wouldn't do that even if everyone knew about us. It isn't appropriate workplace behavior."
"I hate being appropriate all the time. Don't you ever just want to be wildly inappropriate?"
"Not really. I've been involuntarily inappropriate for most of my life. It gets old."
She took a deep breath and straightened up. The topic felt closed. "Let's stay in tonight."
"Okay."
"I'll cook something. We'll watch a movie."
"Sold."
She grinned up at him. "I like this."
"What?"
"Just having you here. It's nice. It's...low-pressure."
"I couldn't agree more."
She kissed him again and retreated to her side of the couch, picked up her book and kept reading.
"Will it bother you if I put on some music?" Emily asked from the kitchen.
"No, go ahead," Reid said, distracted. It sounded like she was chopping something. A few seconds later a low, sultry voice came over her iPod speakers, singing a bluesy song that sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. He paused in his typing and listened for a few moments, smiling as he realized that Emily was chopping in time to the song. It sounded like she was singing under her breath, too.
He quietly got up and leaned against the wall by the kitchen, watching her at the counter. Her hips were swaying gently from side to side with the music. She was wearing a t-shirt that was clinging to her in all the right places. It rode up as she moved her arms, exposing strips of creamy skin at her waist.
A little impulse wormed its way into his mind. No, you can't.
Why not?
It's rude.
No, it isn't. I'm her...whatever. Her lover. Her boyfriend, maybe. I'm allowed to touch her.
So do it.
He stole forward on his stockinged feet and slipped his hands up over her shoulders, giving them a squeeze. She didn't turn around, just looked back a little to acknowledge his presence. He pulled her hair aside and kissed her neck. He felt her tremble a little and she tilted her head to give him room, but she kept chopping vegetables like nothing was going on. He slid his hands down her back to her waist, then around to her front, stepping up a little closer behind her. He kept kissing her neck, his hands sliding under her t-shirt to stroke her stomach. Emily's chopping was becoming more and more sporadic. She leaned her head back into his shoulder, one of her hands coming up to cup the back of his head. "Mmm," she sighed as his hand moved up her chest. He worked his fingers under her bra and dug until her silky breast filled his hand. "Spencer," she whispered, and started to turn around.
He put his other hand on her hip and stilled her. "No," he murmured into her ear. "Stay."
She nodded, her breath speeding as he rolled her nipple between his fingers. He'd already figured out that her breasts were very sensitive. He moved his mouth to the other side of her neck, tilting her the other direction, and slid his right hand down her stomach and under the waistband of her jeans. She gasped as his fingers probed her, the knife falling from her grasp. She gripped the edge of the counter with both hands and arched like a cat against him as he stroked her firmly, finding her most sensitive spot and circling it with his index finger, pressing lightly then harder, dipping beneath to slide his finger inside her and back out again. "Oh, fuck," she groaned, her legs sliding a little further apart to give him better access. Her arousal and the way she abandoned herself to it was more erotic than he’d known it was possible to be. This was her secret self and she was letting him see it, she was letting him tease it out of her. As he watched her, eyes closed and throat bared, her whole body trembling, she looked like a goddess to him and he couldn't believe he actually got to touch her.
He knew she was close by the kittenish little whines coming from her. He moved his hand from her breast to her cheek, turned her face toward him and kissed her as he kept stroking her, wanting to feel her go over the edge. She clutched at the back of his head and kissed him back as he felt her fall to pieces in his arms, her cries smothered by his mouth, her hips moving in sensual arcs against his hand as she shuddered and twitched and finally sagged. He wrapped both arms around her waist and held her, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. "Jesus," she panted. "You really are a genius," she said, smiling a little.
He chuckled. "No. You just bring it out of me."
She turned around now and wound her arms around his neck, kissing him again, one hand going to his fly. "Your turn."
He stopped her fingers. "No. That was just for you."
"You're not going to let me have my fun now?" she pouted.
"Later."
"Damn right, later," she said. For a few moments they just stood there, arms linked loosely around each other's waists. "Spencer, I...I feel like I owe you an apology."
"Why?"
"Because when I imagined this, being with you, dating you, I never imagined that you'd be so...sexy. I never thought you could be like how you just were with me, how you've been this whole time. I shouldn't have underestimated you. People do that all the time. Local cops and UNSUBs and even people who ought to know better. I should know better."
"Emily, I underestimated myself. I didn't know if I could please a woman like you. I wasn't sure I'd be enough for you, if I'd be any good with you. I've done all right with other women but I've never been able to feel free with any of them like I already do with you. So if I'm being sexier than you thought, take the credit." He smiled and kissed her. "Just one question, though."
"What?"
"What is this music?"
"Oh, is that what got you going? It's Nina Simone. I'll have to remember that."
They ate dinner at her small table, just salad and some pasta with cream sauce. They drank wine and talked about their families and their job and their favorite places to go in DC. It was easy talk that started getting them past the surface facts they'd already known about each other and down to the more personal things that they didn't tell casual friends.
They washed the dishes together and Reid was struck again by the easy domesticity. You'd think they'd been dating for months instead of twenty-four hours.
Afterwards, they sat in the living room and worked on the paper they were writing together. They hadn't had much time for it since Minnesota, with several high-profile cases at the BAU and urgent consultations for each of them.
"I got all of Niedermeier's school records," Emily said, pulling a folder out of her briefcase. "There's some medical records in here, too. Everything's really sporadic and spotty. Lots of time gaps."
"That's to be expected with a kid in and out of foster care."
"His foster care records are sealed. I've got JJ working on that. He's also got a juvenile record that's been expunged."
That got Reid's attention. He looked up from the prison interview notes. "Does it have any names of arresting officers?"
"It's got docket numbers and a court case. I can call the precinct on Monday and try and find out who worked the case."
Reid nodded. "Can you start a timeline for him, as far back as possible?"
"Sure. I've got his birth records somewhere, too."
For the next few hours Emily sat cross-legged on the floor using the coffee table as a desk, making notes as she combed through Niedermeier's childhood. Reid was breaking down his MMPI test results and his answers to the VICAP questionnaire. They paused frequently to compare notes and share important insights.
But at eight o'clock, Emily put down her pen. "Okay. Enough work. I require an old black and white mystery movie. Possibly something from the Hitchcock oeuvre."
"Ooh! Do you have 'Rebecca?'"
"Of course. It's my favorite."
"Mine, too. Let's watch that one."
Emily put the movie in and they turned off all the lights to watch it, tucked close together on the couch, Emily's legs curled under her and Reid's stretched out and propped up on the coffee table. "Do you think he really loved her?" Reid asked at one point. "Or did he just marry her to get away from the memory of Rebecca?"
"I think he really loved her, but for some sketchy reasons. He loved her because she wasn't like Rebecca, but notice that as the movie goes on, she gets more sophisticated and grown up. More like Rebecca, in other words."
"I think he wanted some reassurance that he could control her, like he couldn't control Rebecca. Rebecca's real crime was that she was sexually liberated and in control of her own sexual power at a time when that wasn't appropriate for women, and it was threatening to him. He wanted to keep his new wife innocent, so she wouldn't threaten his ego."
"That's a cynical interpretation. He also despised the phony way he was raised and craved the company of someone real and grounded, and he found that appealing in her. She's not the only one who changes in the movie, he does too, and becomes more expressive and content because of her."
"But notice...look, here it is..." They waited for the scene to pass. "Notice how he says to her 'I have always loved you' and 'I shall always love you.' He never actually says 'I love you.' In fact he never says that. It's like he's removing it from himself, from the moment they're sharing. He's afraid of committing his emotions to the woman in front of him because he was so traumatized by the power of a dead woman."
Emily sighed, shaking her head. "We are hopeless. We're profiling a fictional character."
Reid laughed. "This character is begging for it."
They went quiet and watched the end of the movie. As the credits rolled, Emily picked up the remote and turned the TV off, plunging the room into darkness, only the sparkling lights of DC out the picture window offering any illumination. He felt her hands on his shoulders and let himself be pulled down onto the couch with her. "You're not afraid of a woman in control of her sexual power, are you?" she whispered, twining her legs with his.
Reid couldn't think of a way to tell her how much he wasn't, so he decided just to show her.
Reid woke up alone in Emily's bed, the sunlight streaming in. He stretched, feeling how well-used his body was after these last few marathon days with Emily. God, he never thought he'd ever have so much sex in so little time. Twice on Friday night, once Saturday morning, then in the hallway Saturday afternoon, then he'd gotten her off at the kitchen counter. After the movie was over, they'd stayed on the couch for a good hour, just kissing and touching each other. That had been awesome. There was something so sexy and intimate about it, slow and lazy kissing, caressing, holding, whispering. But eventually she'd gotten up and led him upstairs, and there they'd made love again, starting to feel confident with each other now, exploring some new territory.
She came into the room wearing his shirt, carrying a plate with some donuts on it and two mugs of coffee, a thick Sunday paper tucked under her arm. "Oh good, you're up."
"Donuts?"
"I ran out and got some and a paper."
"Dressed like that?"
She smacked his shoulder. "I put on pants, thank you very much." She shimmied out of Reid's shirt, leaving her in only her panties, and came back to bed. She snuggled close and kissed him, smelling like outdoors. "Good morning."
"Good morning."
"Except it's the end of our weekend," she said, looking a little disappointed.
"There'll be another one in five days."
"Sounds like a long time to me."
"Honestly, I never imagined that our first date would go all weekend," he said.
Emily got a thoughtful expression on her face, then turned on her side and looked right into his eyes. He slid his arm over her side and matched her gaze. "I know this probably goes without saying," she said, "but I really like you."
"I like you, too. And I don't think anything goes without saying in this situation. Best to get things out in the open."
"I agree. So here it is. I've known you for a long time and I've always liked you. But that night, in that hotel room, I saw something else in you. Know what I mean?" He nodded. "I should tell you that I've been attracted to you for awhile. Before Minnesota. I was aware of it, but I sort of dismissed it as theoretical, like how I find Ewan McGregor attractive. True, but kind of irrelevant. You just weren't that guy to me."
Reid was getting a sinking feeling. Had she changed her mind? Was she leading up to a conversation about how this couldn't go any further, that they couldn't be anything more to each other than friends and co-workers? He'd been thinking they were already past the point of dismissing it, but maybe he was wrong. If so, it was rather cavalier of her to deliver that blow while cuddled up in bed with him.
"Hey," she said, seeing his discomfort. She took his chin in her hand and tilted his face back over to hers. "No. That's not what I'm saying." He relaxed a little. "I know yesterday morning I said I wanted to see where this was going, that I wanted to give it a shot. I'm saying that I think I already know where this is going."
"You do?"
She nodded. "Right now, I feel more comfortable with you, more connected to you, than I ever have to any other man, even after dating them for months. I've been thinking that I can't jump in this fast, I have to give it time, but now I'm wondering why I'm afraid to just tell you what I want."
"What do you want?"
"I want to be with you. I want us to be...you know. Together. I guess I'm saying I want to be exclusive."
"Emily, I wasn't planning on dating anyone else."
She sighed. "I'm not expressing myself very well. Spencer, I'm asking you to – to be my boyfriend, I guess." She flushed and laughed a little. "Sounds so middle-school. I don't want to go on dates and be scheduling everything. I just want to know that I'm going to see you, I want to be able to assume that I'll talk to you every day, that we'll spend the night together if we can, that you're always my first call. I want you to just show up here and let yourself in, and I want to be able to do the same at your place. I want to just know that if I make plans for a concert or to go to a park or to drive up to Annapolis to go art shopping that you're part of those plans. I want you to come take care of me if I'm sick and I want to do the same for you." She stopped herself, the words having started to tumble out on their own, and Reid knew that she was telling him things she wanted that she'd never had with other men. "I guess I just want to be your most important person. And I want you to be mine."
Reid stared at her, speechless. He'd never imagined that he'd be anybody's most important person, except his mother's and she didn't count. It was an idea that both terrified him and filled him with a kind of joy he'd only heard about from others.
Emily was looking a little nervous at his silence. "I know I'm being a little intense. We've only been on one date." She sounded afraid that he would slam on the brakes, that he’d react badly to her overtures, that it was too much, too soon.
He smiled. "Technically, we're still on that date."
"I just don't see any reason to beat around the bush. I think we both know how we feel about each other, don't we?"
He would have said it right then and there. I know that I love you, Emily. I already know. But he couldn't. It was way too soon for that, and he knew that she'd be cautious, not with herself but with those words. She was already willing to share herself with him, to share her life, but she wouldn't commit by verbalizing it until she'd had more time to process it. He knew her. He knew that he'd have to be patient, and that part of her would be waiting for it to end and it would take time for her to believe in them, much as she wanted to. So he just nodded, then pulled her close and kissed her, the kind of slow and deep kiss he already knew she liked.
Around three o'clock, they both began looking at each other with expressions that said well, we might as well get it over with.
They'd lounged around in bed until noon, eating donuts and drinking coffee and reading the paper. They'd gotten into a tickle fight that had turned into sex and finally gotten up when it was just too slovenly not to. They'd gotten dressed and gone for a walk in Emily's neighborhood, lingering in a park, holding hands like they were any couple you might see walking by on the street. Reid supposed they were.
He packed up his laptop and his work materials, strewn as they were across the coffee table. Emily watched him, her expression grim. "I don't know how we're going to do this," she muttered.
"We'll do it. It's not like we're not allowed to speak to each other. And unless we have to go out of town, we can see each other in the evenings."
She nodded. "I guess so."
He walked up to her and cupped her face in his hands. "Hey. Being insecure is supposed to be my thing, remember?"
"I just don't want to fuck this up."
"We won't."
"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about me fucking it up. I can't do that, not with you."
"You're Emily Prentiss, the woman every other agent in our building wants to be like. You can't possibly fuck it up."
She snorted derisively. "I obviously haven't told you enough about my relationship history. I didn't want to scare you off."
"So you're afraid of fucking it up, I'm afraid you'll just wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking."
That got her to smile. "No chance."
"Good." He sighed, hands on his hips. "Well, I guess I better..."
"Yeah," she said, staring at her shoes.
He picked up his go bag and carried it to the door, then came back for his coat and his messenger bag. He went to her and ran both hands down her arms until he was holding both her hands. She didn't look at him, just tipped forward until her forehead was resting on his shoulder. He kissed the side of her head. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Okay," she said. "It's gonna suck." She tilted her head back and kissed his mouth. "Call me before you go to sleep."
"I will." She followed him to the door. He picked up his go bag and opened the door, then turned back and kissed her again.
She squeezed his hand. "Drive safe, honey."
He smiled to hear her call him that again. "Bye." He made it into the hallway and shut the door behind him. He paused and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to just go back in there and stay until they both had to get up and go to work in the morning. He squared his shoulders and headed off down the hall, reassuring himself that there'd be other nights and other weekends. Hopefully, a lot of them.
A "Criminal Minds" fanfiction by MadLori
Chapter 5
As the afternoon progressed, Reid was amazed how comfortable he felt at Emily's house. She'd been right, he did have some journals he wanted to read and a draft he wanted to work on for an article he was preparing on behavioral countermeasures. He would gladly have traded work time on these tasks to spend time with Emily, but since she'd suggested it, he was just as glad to be able to do both. When she came downstairs, showered and changed and looking fresh and scrubbed, he was on the couch with his laptop open on his knees. She'd immediately hauled out a thick volume (it looked like a new book on borderline personality disorder that he'd read himself a few months back), curled into the other corner of the couch and started reading.
A little while later, she got up and made a pot of coffee. When she returned to the couch she brought him a cup, which came with a kiss. Then back to reading. It was all so – easy. Was it supposed to be this easy? Wasn't this supposed to be the stage of a new relationship when they were each bending over backwards to impress each other and be as "on" all the time as possible?
Of course, his relationship with Emily wasn't new. It was changing, but it wasn't new. He'd known her for years, they were already comfortable around each other. The fact that they'd now seen each other naked didn't seem to change that.
The next three hours passed quietly, with occasional breaks for discussion of their respective projects. But mostly, they sat together in companionable silence, each with their own task, and Reid felt at home here with her. That was encouraging.
Around four o'clock he was busily typing away on his draft when he felt her eyes on him. He looked over and she'd put her book aside and was just watching him, a little smile on her face. "What?" he said.
She crawled across the couch cushions and settled herself next to him. "I think I'm getting a little crush on you, Dr. Reid."
He chuckled. "Oh yeah?"
"I think so, yeah."
"Well, if you sit next to me in study hall I might like you back." He turned his head to look down into her upturned face; on impulse he rubbed his nose across hers, then leaned in and kissed her.
"I had fun with you these last two weeks," she said, her eyes twinkling.
"Me, too," he said.
"You sound like that surprises you."
"No, it's just that I thought I'd be more impatient to get on with it. But it was kinda fun, wasn't it?"
She nodded. "Having it there but not there, having to keep it quiet. I have not forgiven you for making me spar with Morgan that day, either."
"You have only yourself to blame for wearing that red tank top."
She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, their fingers tangling together. "The only bad part is that now that we're here, how do we go back to work on Monday?"
Reid had been wondering about that, too. "It might not be so bad."
"How do you figure?"
"Well, all the time we're at work we'll know that soon we'll be able to be alone together again, and be like this. Maybe that'll make it easier to act like we're just co-workers."
"Yeah," she said, not sounding too convinced. "It's just going to be hard sitting across from you all day, knowing that I can't go over and kiss you if I want to."
"You wouldn't do that even if everyone knew about us. It isn't appropriate workplace behavior."
"I hate being appropriate all the time. Don't you ever just want to be wildly inappropriate?"
"Not really. I've been involuntarily inappropriate for most of my life. It gets old."
She took a deep breath and straightened up. The topic felt closed. "Let's stay in tonight."
"Okay."
"I'll cook something. We'll watch a movie."
"Sold."
She grinned up at him. "I like this."
"What?"
"Just having you here. It's nice. It's...low-pressure."
"I couldn't agree more."
She kissed him again and retreated to her side of the couch, picked up her book and kept reading.
"Will it bother you if I put on some music?" Emily asked from the kitchen.
"No, go ahead," Reid said, distracted. It sounded like she was chopping something. A few seconds later a low, sultry voice came over her iPod speakers, singing a bluesy song that sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. He paused in his typing and listened for a few moments, smiling as he realized that Emily was chopping in time to the song. It sounded like she was singing under her breath, too.
He quietly got up and leaned against the wall by the kitchen, watching her at the counter. Her hips were swaying gently from side to side with the music. She was wearing a t-shirt that was clinging to her in all the right places. It rode up as she moved her arms, exposing strips of creamy skin at her waist.
A little impulse wormed its way into his mind. No, you can't.
Why not?
It's rude.
No, it isn't. I'm her...whatever. Her lover. Her boyfriend, maybe. I'm allowed to touch her.
So do it.
He stole forward on his stockinged feet and slipped his hands up over her shoulders, giving them a squeeze. She didn't turn around, just looked back a little to acknowledge his presence. He pulled her hair aside and kissed her neck. He felt her tremble a little and she tilted her head to give him room, but she kept chopping vegetables like nothing was going on. He slid his hands down her back to her waist, then around to her front, stepping up a little closer behind her. He kept kissing her neck, his hands sliding under her t-shirt to stroke her stomach. Emily's chopping was becoming more and more sporadic. She leaned her head back into his shoulder, one of her hands coming up to cup the back of his head. "Mmm," she sighed as his hand moved up her chest. He worked his fingers under her bra and dug until her silky breast filled his hand. "Spencer," she whispered, and started to turn around.
He put his other hand on her hip and stilled her. "No," he murmured into her ear. "Stay."
She nodded, her breath speeding as he rolled her nipple between his fingers. He'd already figured out that her breasts were very sensitive. He moved his mouth to the other side of her neck, tilting her the other direction, and slid his right hand down her stomach and under the waistband of her jeans. She gasped as his fingers probed her, the knife falling from her grasp. She gripped the edge of the counter with both hands and arched like a cat against him as he stroked her firmly, finding her most sensitive spot and circling it with his index finger, pressing lightly then harder, dipping beneath to slide his finger inside her and back out again. "Oh, fuck," she groaned, her legs sliding a little further apart to give him better access. Her arousal and the way she abandoned herself to it was more erotic than he’d known it was possible to be. This was her secret self and she was letting him see it, she was letting him tease it out of her. As he watched her, eyes closed and throat bared, her whole body trembling, she looked like a goddess to him and he couldn't believe he actually got to touch her.
He knew she was close by the kittenish little whines coming from her. He moved his hand from her breast to her cheek, turned her face toward him and kissed her as he kept stroking her, wanting to feel her go over the edge. She clutched at the back of his head and kissed him back as he felt her fall to pieces in his arms, her cries smothered by his mouth, her hips moving in sensual arcs against his hand as she shuddered and twitched and finally sagged. He wrapped both arms around her waist and held her, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. "Jesus," she panted. "You really are a genius," she said, smiling a little.
He chuckled. "No. You just bring it out of me."
She turned around now and wound her arms around his neck, kissing him again, one hand going to his fly. "Your turn."
He stopped her fingers. "No. That was just for you."
"You're not going to let me have my fun now?" she pouted.
"Later."
"Damn right, later," she said. For a few moments they just stood there, arms linked loosely around each other's waists. "Spencer, I...I feel like I owe you an apology."
"Why?"
"Because when I imagined this, being with you, dating you, I never imagined that you'd be so...sexy. I never thought you could be like how you just were with me, how you've been this whole time. I shouldn't have underestimated you. People do that all the time. Local cops and UNSUBs and even people who ought to know better. I should know better."
"Emily, I underestimated myself. I didn't know if I could please a woman like you. I wasn't sure I'd be enough for you, if I'd be any good with you. I've done all right with other women but I've never been able to feel free with any of them like I already do with you. So if I'm being sexier than you thought, take the credit." He smiled and kissed her. "Just one question, though."
"What?"
"What is this music?"
"Oh, is that what got you going? It's Nina Simone. I'll have to remember that."
They ate dinner at her small table, just salad and some pasta with cream sauce. They drank wine and talked about their families and their job and their favorite places to go in DC. It was easy talk that started getting them past the surface facts they'd already known about each other and down to the more personal things that they didn't tell casual friends.
They washed the dishes together and Reid was struck again by the easy domesticity. You'd think they'd been dating for months instead of twenty-four hours.
Afterwards, they sat in the living room and worked on the paper they were writing together. They hadn't had much time for it since Minnesota, with several high-profile cases at the BAU and urgent consultations for each of them.
"I got all of Niedermeier's school records," Emily said, pulling a folder out of her briefcase. "There's some medical records in here, too. Everything's really sporadic and spotty. Lots of time gaps."
"That's to be expected with a kid in and out of foster care."
"His foster care records are sealed. I've got JJ working on that. He's also got a juvenile record that's been expunged."
That got Reid's attention. He looked up from the prison interview notes. "Does it have any names of arresting officers?"
"It's got docket numbers and a court case. I can call the precinct on Monday and try and find out who worked the case."
Reid nodded. "Can you start a timeline for him, as far back as possible?"
"Sure. I've got his birth records somewhere, too."
For the next few hours Emily sat cross-legged on the floor using the coffee table as a desk, making notes as she combed through Niedermeier's childhood. Reid was breaking down his MMPI test results and his answers to the VICAP questionnaire. They paused frequently to compare notes and share important insights.
But at eight o'clock, Emily put down her pen. "Okay. Enough work. I require an old black and white mystery movie. Possibly something from the Hitchcock oeuvre."
"Ooh! Do you have 'Rebecca?'"
"Of course. It's my favorite."
"Mine, too. Let's watch that one."
Emily put the movie in and they turned off all the lights to watch it, tucked close together on the couch, Emily's legs curled under her and Reid's stretched out and propped up on the coffee table. "Do you think he really loved her?" Reid asked at one point. "Or did he just marry her to get away from the memory of Rebecca?"
"I think he really loved her, but for some sketchy reasons. He loved her because she wasn't like Rebecca, but notice that as the movie goes on, she gets more sophisticated and grown up. More like Rebecca, in other words."
"I think he wanted some reassurance that he could control her, like he couldn't control Rebecca. Rebecca's real crime was that she was sexually liberated and in control of her own sexual power at a time when that wasn't appropriate for women, and it was threatening to him. He wanted to keep his new wife innocent, so she wouldn't threaten his ego."
"That's a cynical interpretation. He also despised the phony way he was raised and craved the company of someone real and grounded, and he found that appealing in her. She's not the only one who changes in the movie, he does too, and becomes more expressive and content because of her."
"But notice...look, here it is..." They waited for the scene to pass. "Notice how he says to her 'I have always loved you' and 'I shall always love you.' He never actually says 'I love you.' In fact he never says that. It's like he's removing it from himself, from the moment they're sharing. He's afraid of committing his emotions to the woman in front of him because he was so traumatized by the power of a dead woman."
Emily sighed, shaking her head. "We are hopeless. We're profiling a fictional character."
Reid laughed. "This character is begging for it."
They went quiet and watched the end of the movie. As the credits rolled, Emily picked up the remote and turned the TV off, plunging the room into darkness, only the sparkling lights of DC out the picture window offering any illumination. He felt her hands on his shoulders and let himself be pulled down onto the couch with her. "You're not afraid of a woman in control of her sexual power, are you?" she whispered, twining her legs with his.
Reid couldn't think of a way to tell her how much he wasn't, so he decided just to show her.
Reid woke up alone in Emily's bed, the sunlight streaming in. He stretched, feeling how well-used his body was after these last few marathon days with Emily. God, he never thought he'd ever have so much sex in so little time. Twice on Friday night, once Saturday morning, then in the hallway Saturday afternoon, then he'd gotten her off at the kitchen counter. After the movie was over, they'd stayed on the couch for a good hour, just kissing and touching each other. That had been awesome. There was something so sexy and intimate about it, slow and lazy kissing, caressing, holding, whispering. But eventually she'd gotten up and led him upstairs, and there they'd made love again, starting to feel confident with each other now, exploring some new territory.
She came into the room wearing his shirt, carrying a plate with some donuts on it and two mugs of coffee, a thick Sunday paper tucked under her arm. "Oh good, you're up."
"Donuts?"
"I ran out and got some and a paper."
"Dressed like that?"
She smacked his shoulder. "I put on pants, thank you very much." She shimmied out of Reid's shirt, leaving her in only her panties, and came back to bed. She snuggled close and kissed him, smelling like outdoors. "Good morning."
"Good morning."
"Except it's the end of our weekend," she said, looking a little disappointed.
"There'll be another one in five days."
"Sounds like a long time to me."
"Honestly, I never imagined that our first date would go all weekend," he said.
Emily got a thoughtful expression on her face, then turned on her side and looked right into his eyes. He slid his arm over her side and matched her gaze. "I know this probably goes without saying," she said, "but I really like you."
"I like you, too. And I don't think anything goes without saying in this situation. Best to get things out in the open."
"I agree. So here it is. I've known you for a long time and I've always liked you. But that night, in that hotel room, I saw something else in you. Know what I mean?" He nodded. "I should tell you that I've been attracted to you for awhile. Before Minnesota. I was aware of it, but I sort of dismissed it as theoretical, like how I find Ewan McGregor attractive. True, but kind of irrelevant. You just weren't that guy to me."
Reid was getting a sinking feeling. Had she changed her mind? Was she leading up to a conversation about how this couldn't go any further, that they couldn't be anything more to each other than friends and co-workers? He'd been thinking they were already past the point of dismissing it, but maybe he was wrong. If so, it was rather cavalier of her to deliver that blow while cuddled up in bed with him.
"Hey," she said, seeing his discomfort. She took his chin in her hand and tilted his face back over to hers. "No. That's not what I'm saying." He relaxed a little. "I know yesterday morning I said I wanted to see where this was going, that I wanted to give it a shot. I'm saying that I think I already know where this is going."
"You do?"
She nodded. "Right now, I feel more comfortable with you, more connected to you, than I ever have to any other man, even after dating them for months. I've been thinking that I can't jump in this fast, I have to give it time, but now I'm wondering why I'm afraid to just tell you what I want."
"What do you want?"
"I want to be with you. I want us to be...you know. Together. I guess I'm saying I want to be exclusive."
"Emily, I wasn't planning on dating anyone else."
She sighed. "I'm not expressing myself very well. Spencer, I'm asking you to – to be my boyfriend, I guess." She flushed and laughed a little. "Sounds so middle-school. I don't want to go on dates and be scheduling everything. I just want to know that I'm going to see you, I want to be able to assume that I'll talk to you every day, that we'll spend the night together if we can, that you're always my first call. I want you to just show up here and let yourself in, and I want to be able to do the same at your place. I want to just know that if I make plans for a concert or to go to a park or to drive up to Annapolis to go art shopping that you're part of those plans. I want you to come take care of me if I'm sick and I want to do the same for you." She stopped herself, the words having started to tumble out on their own, and Reid knew that she was telling him things she wanted that she'd never had with other men. "I guess I just want to be your most important person. And I want you to be mine."
Reid stared at her, speechless. He'd never imagined that he'd be anybody's most important person, except his mother's and she didn't count. It was an idea that both terrified him and filled him with a kind of joy he'd only heard about from others.
Emily was looking a little nervous at his silence. "I know I'm being a little intense. We've only been on one date." She sounded afraid that he would slam on the brakes, that he’d react badly to her overtures, that it was too much, too soon.
He smiled. "Technically, we're still on that date."
"I just don't see any reason to beat around the bush. I think we both know how we feel about each other, don't we?"
He would have said it right then and there. I know that I love you, Emily. I already know. But he couldn't. It was way too soon for that, and he knew that she'd be cautious, not with herself but with those words. She was already willing to share herself with him, to share her life, but she wouldn't commit by verbalizing it until she'd had more time to process it. He knew her. He knew that he'd have to be patient, and that part of her would be waiting for it to end and it would take time for her to believe in them, much as she wanted to. So he just nodded, then pulled her close and kissed her, the kind of slow and deep kiss he already knew she liked.
Around three o'clock, they both began looking at each other with expressions that said well, we might as well get it over with.
They'd lounged around in bed until noon, eating donuts and drinking coffee and reading the paper. They'd gotten into a tickle fight that had turned into sex and finally gotten up when it was just too slovenly not to. They'd gotten dressed and gone for a walk in Emily's neighborhood, lingering in a park, holding hands like they were any couple you might see walking by on the street. Reid supposed they were.
He packed up his laptop and his work materials, strewn as they were across the coffee table. Emily watched him, her expression grim. "I don't know how we're going to do this," she muttered.
"We'll do it. It's not like we're not allowed to speak to each other. And unless we have to go out of town, we can see each other in the evenings."
She nodded. "I guess so."
He walked up to her and cupped her face in his hands. "Hey. Being insecure is supposed to be my thing, remember?"
"I just don't want to fuck this up."
"We won't."
"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about me fucking it up. I can't do that, not with you."
"You're Emily Prentiss, the woman every other agent in our building wants to be like. You can't possibly fuck it up."
She snorted derisively. "I obviously haven't told you enough about my relationship history. I didn't want to scare you off."
"So you're afraid of fucking it up, I'm afraid you'll just wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking."
That got her to smile. "No chance."
"Good." He sighed, hands on his hips. "Well, I guess I better..."
"Yeah," she said, staring at her shoes.
He picked up his go bag and carried it to the door, then came back for his coat and his messenger bag. He went to her and ran both hands down her arms until he was holding both her hands. She didn't look at him, just tipped forward until her forehead was resting on his shoulder. He kissed the side of her head. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Okay," she said. "It's gonna suck." She tilted her head back and kissed his mouth. "Call me before you go to sleep."
"I will." She followed him to the door. He picked up his go bag and opened the door, then turned back and kissed her again.
She squeezed his hand. "Drive safe, honey."
He smiled to hear her call him that again. "Bye." He made it into the hallway and shut the door behind him. He paused and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to just go back in there and stay until they both had to get up and go to work in the morning. He squared his shoulders and headed off down the hall, reassuring himself that there'd be other nights and other weekends. Hopefully, a lot of them.
