Genius at Work, Chapter 7/15
Jun. 29th, 2010 08:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madlorificGenius at Work
A "Criminal Minds" fanfiction by MadLori
Chapter 7
one month later
Neither of them were sleeping. They were in bed, they were quiet, but they weren’t sleeping.
Reid was spooned up close behind her, both arms wrapped around her, his face nestled down against her hair. Her arms were in turn wrapped around his, her hands holding onto his forearms where they lay across her chest and stomach. If he could have held her tighter, he would have done it.
He felt her chest expand and contract in a deep sigh. “Say it again,” she whispered.
He moved his mouth close to her ear. “I love you.” He saw her face flex as she smiled. “I’ve wanted to say it so many times.”
“Me, too.”
“What stopped us?”
“I don’t know. I know I’ve had my moments when I’ve said to myself, slow down, Emily. It isn’t supposed to happen this fast. You can’t be getting this serious about him yet. It’s too soon. I guess I thought if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be real. It wouldn’t be true.” She loosened herself from his grasp and turned over to face him. “But it is true. It’s been true for a long time.” She put her hand on his face. “I fell in love with you when you kissed me in that observatory, and as much as I’ve tried to put the brakes on, I’ve loved you ever since, more every day.”
He looked at her face, amazed. “I think I must have always been in love with you,” he said. “I can’t remember when it happened.”
Emily grinned. “So we’re both just chicken for holding out this long.”
“Or we’re cautious, measured and thoughtful.”
“No. I think we’re chicken.”
He nodded. “Yep. Chicken.”
She snuggled close. “It feels good just to be able to tell you that I love you.”
“Feels good to hear it.”
“Well, I’m going to say it a lot more from now on. Count on it.”
“Okay, I will.”
She tilted her head back so she could meet his eyes. “You know it’s four months to the day since the first time we slept together?” she said.
“I did know that, actually. And since that night we’ve had sex sixty-two times.”
She laughed out loud. “You’ve been keeping count?”
“I can’t help it.”
“Do you count that time you stroked me off in the kitchen? And that time I did the same to you in the car?”
“Yep. If somebody had an orgasm, it counts.”
“Fair enough.” She slid closer and kissed the tip of his nose. “I love you,” she repeated, in a near-whisper. “I love your face and your body and your crazy brain and you’ll have to excuse me if I get a little mushy right now.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” The truth was, her mushiness was nothing to what was going through his own head, so he could hardly throw stones.
She laughed and hugged him again. “I guess we ought to be able to get mushy in the privacy of our own bed, huh?”
He held her tight, fixating on one word. “Is this our bed?”
“Well…I guess I’ve started thinking of it as ours. We’re here most of the time.”
“I wonder why that is.”
“Because all you have to eat at your place is coffee and Twinkies.”
They laughed quietly together in Emily’s…in their bed. Reid kissed her forehead. “Can I say it again?”
“You can say it as many times as you like.”
“I don’t know, that could be a lot.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.” He tilted her face back up toward his. “I’ve never said that to anyone before. And no one’s ever said it to me.”
She was quiet for a moment. “That makes me sad,” she finally said.
“It does?”
“You deserve to be loved. You’re more deserving of love than most of the guys I’ve dated, that’s for sure.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I am loved. Right?”
She smiled, nodding. “Yes, you are.” She kissed him deeply, her hands running up and down his back. Reid pulled her tight against him, her nude body pressed against his from toes to chest, and kissed back. She slipped a hand between them and stroked him. The sound of their breathing, deeper and harder now, filled the dim bedroom. Reid kissed his way down her chest until he could latch on to her breast. Emily mewled a little, her other hand on the back of his head. She pushed him over onto his back, her hands suddenly urgent, and mounted him in one swift motion. Reid let out a surprised, half-choked groan and seized her hips in his hand. She braced herself on his chest and rode him, her hips moving in tantalizing circles and arcs. “Oh god,” she gasped.
Reid moved with her as best he could, transfixed by her breasts swaying above him. He slid his hands up her torso and cupped them; she put her hands over his, her head thrown back and her hair streaming down her back. “You’re so beautiful,” he managed to choke out. She laughed, low and throaty and sexy, and fell forward onto his chest to kiss him again. He wrapped his arms around her, planted his feet and worked upward into her, her hair falling in a curtain around their faces.
“Yeah, right there,” she whispered, grinding back against him. She kissed him again, drawing his face up toward hers. “Baby…tell me what you want,” she said. She kept trying to get him to be more vocal in bed. He was giving it the old college try, as they say, and as stupid as he’d felt at first it was starting to be easier.
“I want to make you come,” he said. “But not like this.”
She smiled. “Oooh, that sounds promising,” she purred, sucking on the side of his neck. He eased her off him and onto the bed. He turned on his side and kissed her roughly, arousal robbing him of the ability to be subtle. She liked it when he got frantic, when he showed her how much he wanted her; she responded eagerly, her lips grabbing back at his. He slid down her body and hooked her legs over his shoulders. “Oh, fuck,” she groaned as he went to work on her with his tongue and lips. Her feet flexed against his back and she pressed herself closer to him, quivering all over, her hands clutching the sheets. He loved this. It was so intimate, even more so than being inside her, the clean taste of her like bread and salt; he was undone by the erotic, helpless sounds she made, they made him feel powerful. She sucked in quick little breaths, one hand tangling in his hair, and came with a throaty cry. He moved quickly back up her body and kissed the end of the cry from her lips, her arms grabbing at him as she kissed back.
“Turn over,” he whispered. She flipped to her stomach; he pulled her to her knees and entered her from behind. He knew her rhythms by now, if he could keep her at this level of arousal he might be able to get her off again, and he chose this position so she wouldn’t have her legs spread for too long because she found that uncomfortable after a little while. Emily grabbed the headboard, her graceful back arching, her hair now an inky torrent down her shoulders. He ran his hands up and down her sides as they moved together, finding the pace, easy at first until her body began to ramp up again. Reid’s own arousal had never flagged, and as her movements became more urgent he let himself get carried away by it, let the need fill his veins and cloud his reason. He slipped one hand beneath her to stroke her, wanting her to go first and pull him over the edge. With a harsh gasp and a yell she went off again, clenching around him, the waves of her pleasure tipping him into his own orgasm. He fought off the impulse to tamp down because she liked him to be freer; he let himself voice the cry that rose in his throat, and she was right – it did feel good to let it out. He pressed deep inside her for a moment while it washed over him, one of her hands reaching back to stroke his chest as she watched him over her shoulder, smiling.
They both relaxed down onto the bed, twitching and panting, arms twining around each other. “Jesus,” she breathed. “How’d you get so good at this?”
He sighed, running his hand over her hip. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” He leaned close and rubbed his nose against hers. “I love you,” he whispered. “That’s the best I can come up with.”
She smiled and cuddled close into his arms, pulling the sheets and blankets up around them. “I love you, too. But I’m rapidly losing consciousness.”
“We have been pretty active tonight.”
“No, active is when you go out dancing or enjoy a quick game of tennis. This is more like a triathlon.” She yawned and kissed his cheek. “Night, honey.” She rolled away to her other side, pulling the covers over her shoulders.
“Night, Em.” Reid shifted to his back and fixed the pillow behind his head, smiling himself into slumber as the world drifted away.
two weeks later
Reid let himself in to Emily’s apartment and went to the kitchen to unload his grocery bags. He tossed his coat onto a chair and put the kettle on.
“Spencer?” came a clogged, watery entreaty from upstairs.
“Yeah, it’s me!” he called. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Okay.” She sounded miserable. He gathered up his offerings and headed upstairs.
Emily was propped in bed surrounded by Kleenex, empty mugs and magazines. She was watching what looked like “World’s Wildest Police Chases” on her bedroom TV. Her face was puffy and her nose was bright red. For a few days she’d been laid low by a nasty flu bug that had been going around. Yesterday she’d finally been persuaded by Hotch to take some time off lest they all get sick.
“Don’t come too close. I don’t want you to catch this.”
“If I was going to get sick I would have already.”
“You and your titanium immune system, I swear. You never get sick.”
“Well, there was that little spell of anthrax I had a few years back.”
“Which you recovered from. See? Titanium.”
“I’ve got more Kleenex and some Ricola. And I brought you some egg drop soup,” he said, handing her the carton.
By her face, you’d think he’d presented her with the Hope diamond. “Oh! Egg drop soup! How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That when I’m sick this is all I ever want to eat?”
He smiled. “I didn’t. But I’m the same way. It’s hot and wet and chickeny, what else is there?” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Awful. I hate being sick. My chest is sore from the coughing and I don’t think I have any skin left on my nose.” She took his hand. “You didn’t have to come over. But I’m glad you did.”
“I’m going to make you some tea. Be right back.” He rose and kissed her forehead, gathered up empty mugs and headed back downstairs.
He was pondering what kind of tea to make when there was a knock on the door. He frowned. Who could that be?
“Who’s that?” Emily called from upstairs.
“I’ll get it,” he called back. He went to the door and opened it.
Standing in the hall was Emily’s mother, holding a gold box. For a moment, they just stared at each other. The ambassador recovered her composure first. “You must be Dr. Reid,” she said, neutrally.
“Uh, yes,” Reid stammered. He’d spent considerable time pondering what to say and how to act when he finally met Emily’s mother as her boyfriend, but now she’d managed to catch him completely off guard. “Nice to see you, Ambassador. Come in,” he said, standing aside. She gave him a slightly incredulous look as she passed. I just invited her into her own daughter’s apartment like I live here or something. Shit. “I mean…that is, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s all right, Dr. Reid. I assume you spend a lot of time here. How long have you and Emily been dating?”
“Just over four months now.”
She nodded. “Well, when Emily told me she was sick, I thought I’d stop by and see how she was, bring her a favorite treat.”
“Chocolate?” Reid said, glancing at the box with a smile.
“No, marzipan.”
“Emily doesn’t like marzipan,” he said without thinking.
Elizabeth’s face went a little tight. “She most certainly does, it’s her favorite.”
He kicked himself. Nice one, Reid. The truth was that Emily pretended she liked marzipan in front of her mother. Once, when she’d been a teenager and they’d been in some European country, she and her mother had had a bad fight. Her mother had later apologized and brought her some marzipan as a gift. Emily had pretended to like it because she’d been touched by the gesture and wanted to preserve the peace. Unfortunately, her mother had kept giving her marzipan, convinced that it was a special favorite thing that they shared. Emily couldn’t stand the stuff. Reid had eaten a lot of Emily’s cast-off marzipan gifts from her mother over the years, brought into the office rather than be thrown away. “Of course, you’re right. I was thinking of something else.”
She looked suspicious, but let it go. “How is she feeling?”
“Not so great.”
“Spencer?” Emily called from upstairs. “Who was at the door?”
“It’s me, Emily,” her mother said.
“Mom?” He heard rustling and then Emily appeared on the landing, pulling on her bathrobe. “Oh, you didn’t have to come over here.”
“I wanted to see how you were.”
Emily came down the stairs. Reid went into the kitchen to rescue the whistling teakettle. “That’s nice of you. What’s this?” she said, nodding at the gold box.
“Well, it’s marzipan.”
“Great! Thanks!” Emily said, taking the box.
“Emily, what kind of tea do you want?” Reid asked, hoping to distract things.
“The orange one. With honey and lemon, please.”
“Ambassador, would you like some tea?”
“No, thank you. You can call me Elizabeth, Dr. Reid.”
He came back with Emily’s tea, which she took with a grateful sigh, inhaling the vapor. “If you’ll call me Spencer.”
“Very well.”
They stood there in an awkward triangle for a moment. “Come on in and sit down, Mom,” Emily said, heading for the living room. Elizabeth took a seat in the wing chair. Emily curled up on the couch. Reid would have gone to the other chair but Emily caught his hand as he passed and pulled him down next to her. He sat, crossing one knee over the other, Emily keeping custody of his hand, her mug of tea clutched in the other.
“Dr. Reid seems to think you don’t like marzipan, Emily,” Elizabeth said.
“I was thinking of that almond brittle Garcia brought you from New Hope that you didn’t like,” Reid said, giving her a significant look.
Emily sighed. “He’s right, Mom. I hate the stuff. No, Spencer, it’s fine. I ought to be able to tell her the truth about candy, for crying out loud.”
“Why on earth have you been pretending to like it all these years?” Elizabeth said. She didn’t look angry, just surprised.
“Because! That first time I pretended because we’d just had that awful fight and I really wanted it to be okay, and then you kept giving it to me and it somehow became our special thing and I just didn’t have the heart to tell you that I can’t stand it.”
Elizabeth was silent for a moment, then she laughed. “Oh, honey. We are tragic, aren’t we?”
Emily chuckled. “It’s such a stupid little thing.”
“What do you like? No, I think I’ll ask Dr. Reid, I know he’ll tell me the truth. Dr. Reid, what’s Emily’s favorite candy?”
“She likes anything chocolate, but her absolute favorite thing is a Cadbury Flake bar. They’re a little hard to find, though.”
Emily gaped at him. “I’ve never told you that! How do you know that?”
“Research,” he said, smiling.
Elizabeth was looking from him to her and back again. “You two seem – settled.”
Emily fidgeted a little, but kept hold of his hand. “Depends what you mean by that.”
“Is this getting serious?”
He watched Emily’s face. She looked at him, then smiled. “Yes. It is.”
“Have you told your team?”
“Not yet. We plan to. Finding the right moment is a little tricky. We’ve had case after case, and then I got sick – we really should just bite the bullet,” she said.
“Well,” Elizabeth said, adjusting her jacket and the knife pleat in her slacks. “I’m sorry it took us this long to meet, Dr. Reid.” He felt Emily stiffen a little at the implied criticism.
“I wasn’t keeping him away from you on purpose, Mom.”
“I never said you were.”
“Why would you think I’d hide him?”
“Please don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I don’t have to. You know I don’t introduce you and Dad to my boyfriends until it’s serious.”
“But you told me you were dating Dr. Reid months ago. Why wait to let us meet him?”
“Because I didn’t want you to judge him.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I know the kind of man you like to see me with. I just didn’t want to have to go into a big speech about why Spencer is the man I want to be with.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I just want you to be happy, Emily.”
“That’s easy to say. But your idea of what would make me happy hasn’t always been accurate. I’ve found a man who does make me happy and I guess I just didn’t want to hear reasons why I shouldn’t be with him.”
“Even if I had such reasons, would it matter to you?”
Emily blinked, then looked over at him again. “No.”
“Then why do you care what I think?”
Reid watched Emily’s face. He was rather interested in the answer to that question himself. “I don’t know,” she said, quietly.
No one said anything for a long few moments. Emily’s thumb was stroking across the back of his hand. Finally, Elizabeth uncrossed her legs. “Well, I best be going,” she said. “I just wanted to see how you were, Emily.”
They all stood up. “Thanks, Mom. I do appreciate it. And thanks for the marzipan,” she said, smiling a little.
Elizabeth chuckled. “Next time it’ll be chocolate.”
“Spencer will eat the marzipan. He likes it.”
Elizabeth turned to him. “It was nice to finally meet you, Spencer,” she said, using his first name.
He refrained from pointing out that technically, they had met before. He knew what she meant. “Likewise, Elizabeth.”
She hugged Emily over her protestations about flu bugs, then left. Emily seemed to shrink and wilt a little after the door closed, and Reid realized that she’d been unconsciously bucking herself up and throwing off the visible signs of sickness so as not to appear weak in front of her mother. It was weirdly reassuring to him that she didn’t feel the need to put up a front like that for him. “Can I have some more tea?” she said in a small voice, holding out her empty mug.
“Sure.” He took it and went to the stove. She shuffled back into the living room and laid down on the couch. He joined her there, setting the tea on the table. She shifted so her head was lying on his leg. He combed his fingers through her hair. “Emily?”
“Hmm?”
“Why would you be embarrassed by me?”
“Huh? I wouldn’t.”
“But you assume that other people would think you were.”
She made a frustrated noise. “I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around what that means. I’m not embarrassed by you.”
“But that’s what you meant when you said your mom would have…”
“Reid. Please. I can’t deal with this right now.”
“Is it because I’m not some tall handsome suit-wearing alpha male who could…”
“Spencer!” She sat up and turned toward him, looking annoyed. “Can we not? Please? My head is full of wet flannel. I don’t know what you’re getting at but I am not embarrassed of being with you. And you are tall and handsome, and brilliant and sweet and brave, and I love you very much, now please be quiet.” She flopped back to the couch, her head resuming its spot on his thigh.
He stroked her hair for a few minutes, feeling her relax. “You should go to bed,” he murmured.
“I like my spot right now. Can I just stay here for a bit?”
He smiled. “As long as you want.”
A "Criminal Minds" fanfiction by MadLori
Chapter 7
“It’s never worked out with any man I’ve ever tried to get serious with,” she said – and the minute it was out of her mouth, the obvious reason for that bloomed in her mind. “But…I think the reason it didn’t is because…” She let out a shuddering sigh. “They weren’t you.” Her voice cracked a little. “Spencer…” She ran her thumb over his lips. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I should have told you ages ago.”
She saw something behind his eyes break and come crumbling down. “I love you too, Em,” he said. "I'm crazy about you and I'm sorry you had to say it first."
--How to Fight Loneliness, Chapter 7
one month later
Neither of them were sleeping. They were in bed, they were quiet, but they weren’t sleeping.
Reid was spooned up close behind her, both arms wrapped around her, his face nestled down against her hair. Her arms were in turn wrapped around his, her hands holding onto his forearms where they lay across her chest and stomach. If he could have held her tighter, he would have done it.
He felt her chest expand and contract in a deep sigh. “Say it again,” she whispered.
He moved his mouth close to her ear. “I love you.” He saw her face flex as she smiled. “I’ve wanted to say it so many times.”
“Me, too.”
“What stopped us?”
“I don’t know. I know I’ve had my moments when I’ve said to myself, slow down, Emily. It isn’t supposed to happen this fast. You can’t be getting this serious about him yet. It’s too soon. I guess I thought if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be real. It wouldn’t be true.” She loosened herself from his grasp and turned over to face him. “But it is true. It’s been true for a long time.” She put her hand on his face. “I fell in love with you when you kissed me in that observatory, and as much as I’ve tried to put the brakes on, I’ve loved you ever since, more every day.”
He looked at her face, amazed. “I think I must have always been in love with you,” he said. “I can’t remember when it happened.”
Emily grinned. “So we’re both just chicken for holding out this long.”
“Or we’re cautious, measured and thoughtful.”
“No. I think we’re chicken.”
He nodded. “Yep. Chicken.”
She snuggled close. “It feels good just to be able to tell you that I love you.”
“Feels good to hear it.”
“Well, I’m going to say it a lot more from now on. Count on it.”
“Okay, I will.”
She tilted her head back so she could meet his eyes. “You know it’s four months to the day since the first time we slept together?” she said.
“I did know that, actually. And since that night we’ve had sex sixty-two times.”
She laughed out loud. “You’ve been keeping count?”
“I can’t help it.”
“Do you count that time you stroked me off in the kitchen? And that time I did the same to you in the car?”
“Yep. If somebody had an orgasm, it counts.”
“Fair enough.” She slid closer and kissed the tip of his nose. “I love you,” she repeated, in a near-whisper. “I love your face and your body and your crazy brain and you’ll have to excuse me if I get a little mushy right now.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” The truth was, her mushiness was nothing to what was going through his own head, so he could hardly throw stones.
She laughed and hugged him again. “I guess we ought to be able to get mushy in the privacy of our own bed, huh?”
He held her tight, fixating on one word. “Is this our bed?”
“Well…I guess I’ve started thinking of it as ours. We’re here most of the time.”
“I wonder why that is.”
“Because all you have to eat at your place is coffee and Twinkies.”
They laughed quietly together in Emily’s…in their bed. Reid kissed her forehead. “Can I say it again?”
“You can say it as many times as you like.”
“I don’t know, that could be a lot.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.” He tilted her face back up toward his. “I’ve never said that to anyone before. And no one’s ever said it to me.”
She was quiet for a moment. “That makes me sad,” she finally said.
“It does?”
“You deserve to be loved. You’re more deserving of love than most of the guys I’ve dated, that’s for sure.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I am loved. Right?”
She smiled, nodding. “Yes, you are.” She kissed him deeply, her hands running up and down his back. Reid pulled her tight against him, her nude body pressed against his from toes to chest, and kissed back. She slipped a hand between them and stroked him. The sound of their breathing, deeper and harder now, filled the dim bedroom. Reid kissed his way down her chest until he could latch on to her breast. Emily mewled a little, her other hand on the back of his head. She pushed him over onto his back, her hands suddenly urgent, and mounted him in one swift motion. Reid let out a surprised, half-choked groan and seized her hips in his hand. She braced herself on his chest and rode him, her hips moving in tantalizing circles and arcs. “Oh god,” she gasped.
Reid moved with her as best he could, transfixed by her breasts swaying above him. He slid his hands up her torso and cupped them; she put her hands over his, her head thrown back and her hair streaming down her back. “You’re so beautiful,” he managed to choke out. She laughed, low and throaty and sexy, and fell forward onto his chest to kiss him again. He wrapped his arms around her, planted his feet and worked upward into her, her hair falling in a curtain around their faces.
“Yeah, right there,” she whispered, grinding back against him. She kissed him again, drawing his face up toward hers. “Baby…tell me what you want,” she said. She kept trying to get him to be more vocal in bed. He was giving it the old college try, as they say, and as stupid as he’d felt at first it was starting to be easier.
“I want to make you come,” he said. “But not like this.”
She smiled. “Oooh, that sounds promising,” she purred, sucking on the side of his neck. He eased her off him and onto the bed. He turned on his side and kissed her roughly, arousal robbing him of the ability to be subtle. She liked it when he got frantic, when he showed her how much he wanted her; she responded eagerly, her lips grabbing back at his. He slid down her body and hooked her legs over his shoulders. “Oh, fuck,” she groaned as he went to work on her with his tongue and lips. Her feet flexed against his back and she pressed herself closer to him, quivering all over, her hands clutching the sheets. He loved this. It was so intimate, even more so than being inside her, the clean taste of her like bread and salt; he was undone by the erotic, helpless sounds she made, they made him feel powerful. She sucked in quick little breaths, one hand tangling in his hair, and came with a throaty cry. He moved quickly back up her body and kissed the end of the cry from her lips, her arms grabbing at him as she kissed back.
“Turn over,” he whispered. She flipped to her stomach; he pulled her to her knees and entered her from behind. He knew her rhythms by now, if he could keep her at this level of arousal he might be able to get her off again, and he chose this position so she wouldn’t have her legs spread for too long because she found that uncomfortable after a little while. Emily grabbed the headboard, her graceful back arching, her hair now an inky torrent down her shoulders. He ran his hands up and down her sides as they moved together, finding the pace, easy at first until her body began to ramp up again. Reid’s own arousal had never flagged, and as her movements became more urgent he let himself get carried away by it, let the need fill his veins and cloud his reason. He slipped one hand beneath her to stroke her, wanting her to go first and pull him over the edge. With a harsh gasp and a yell she went off again, clenching around him, the waves of her pleasure tipping him into his own orgasm. He fought off the impulse to tamp down because she liked him to be freer; he let himself voice the cry that rose in his throat, and she was right – it did feel good to let it out. He pressed deep inside her for a moment while it washed over him, one of her hands reaching back to stroke his chest as she watched him over her shoulder, smiling.
They both relaxed down onto the bed, twitching and panting, arms twining around each other. “Jesus,” she breathed. “How’d you get so good at this?”
He sighed, running his hand over her hip. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” He leaned close and rubbed his nose against hers. “I love you,” he whispered. “That’s the best I can come up with.”
She smiled and cuddled close into his arms, pulling the sheets and blankets up around them. “I love you, too. But I’m rapidly losing consciousness.”
“We have been pretty active tonight.”
“No, active is when you go out dancing or enjoy a quick game of tennis. This is more like a triathlon.” She yawned and kissed his cheek. “Night, honey.” She rolled away to her other side, pulling the covers over her shoulders.
“Night, Em.” Reid shifted to his back and fixed the pillow behind his head, smiling himself into slumber as the world drifted away.
two weeks later
Reid let himself in to Emily’s apartment and went to the kitchen to unload his grocery bags. He tossed his coat onto a chair and put the kettle on.
“Spencer?” came a clogged, watery entreaty from upstairs.
“Yeah, it’s me!” he called. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Okay.” She sounded miserable. He gathered up his offerings and headed upstairs.
Emily was propped in bed surrounded by Kleenex, empty mugs and magazines. She was watching what looked like “World’s Wildest Police Chases” on her bedroom TV. Her face was puffy and her nose was bright red. For a few days she’d been laid low by a nasty flu bug that had been going around. Yesterday she’d finally been persuaded by Hotch to take some time off lest they all get sick.
“Don’t come too close. I don’t want you to catch this.”
“If I was going to get sick I would have already.”
“You and your titanium immune system, I swear. You never get sick.”
“Well, there was that little spell of anthrax I had a few years back.”
“Which you recovered from. See? Titanium.”
“I’ve got more Kleenex and some Ricola. And I brought you some egg drop soup,” he said, handing her the carton.
By her face, you’d think he’d presented her with the Hope diamond. “Oh! Egg drop soup! How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That when I’m sick this is all I ever want to eat?”
He smiled. “I didn’t. But I’m the same way. It’s hot and wet and chickeny, what else is there?” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Awful. I hate being sick. My chest is sore from the coughing and I don’t think I have any skin left on my nose.” She took his hand. “You didn’t have to come over. But I’m glad you did.”
“I’m going to make you some tea. Be right back.” He rose and kissed her forehead, gathered up empty mugs and headed back downstairs.
He was pondering what kind of tea to make when there was a knock on the door. He frowned. Who could that be?
“Who’s that?” Emily called from upstairs.
“I’ll get it,” he called back. He went to the door and opened it.
Standing in the hall was Emily’s mother, holding a gold box. For a moment, they just stared at each other. The ambassador recovered her composure first. “You must be Dr. Reid,” she said, neutrally.
“Uh, yes,” Reid stammered. He’d spent considerable time pondering what to say and how to act when he finally met Emily’s mother as her boyfriend, but now she’d managed to catch him completely off guard. “Nice to see you, Ambassador. Come in,” he said, standing aside. She gave him a slightly incredulous look as she passed. I just invited her into her own daughter’s apartment like I live here or something. Shit. “I mean…that is, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s all right, Dr. Reid. I assume you spend a lot of time here. How long have you and Emily been dating?”
“Just over four months now.”
She nodded. “Well, when Emily told me she was sick, I thought I’d stop by and see how she was, bring her a favorite treat.”
“Chocolate?” Reid said, glancing at the box with a smile.
“No, marzipan.”
“Emily doesn’t like marzipan,” he said without thinking.
Elizabeth’s face went a little tight. “She most certainly does, it’s her favorite.”
He kicked himself. Nice one, Reid. The truth was that Emily pretended she liked marzipan in front of her mother. Once, when she’d been a teenager and they’d been in some European country, she and her mother had had a bad fight. Her mother had later apologized and brought her some marzipan as a gift. Emily had pretended to like it because she’d been touched by the gesture and wanted to preserve the peace. Unfortunately, her mother had kept giving her marzipan, convinced that it was a special favorite thing that they shared. Emily couldn’t stand the stuff. Reid had eaten a lot of Emily’s cast-off marzipan gifts from her mother over the years, brought into the office rather than be thrown away. “Of course, you’re right. I was thinking of something else.”
She looked suspicious, but let it go. “How is she feeling?”
“Not so great.”
“Spencer?” Emily called from upstairs. “Who was at the door?”
“It’s me, Emily,” her mother said.
“Mom?” He heard rustling and then Emily appeared on the landing, pulling on her bathrobe. “Oh, you didn’t have to come over here.”
“I wanted to see how you were.”
Emily came down the stairs. Reid went into the kitchen to rescue the whistling teakettle. “That’s nice of you. What’s this?” she said, nodding at the gold box.
“Well, it’s marzipan.”
“Great! Thanks!” Emily said, taking the box.
“Emily, what kind of tea do you want?” Reid asked, hoping to distract things.
“The orange one. With honey and lemon, please.”
“Ambassador, would you like some tea?”
“No, thank you. You can call me Elizabeth, Dr. Reid.”
He came back with Emily’s tea, which she took with a grateful sigh, inhaling the vapor. “If you’ll call me Spencer.”
“Very well.”
They stood there in an awkward triangle for a moment. “Come on in and sit down, Mom,” Emily said, heading for the living room. Elizabeth took a seat in the wing chair. Emily curled up on the couch. Reid would have gone to the other chair but Emily caught his hand as he passed and pulled him down next to her. He sat, crossing one knee over the other, Emily keeping custody of his hand, her mug of tea clutched in the other.
“Dr. Reid seems to think you don’t like marzipan, Emily,” Elizabeth said.
“I was thinking of that almond brittle Garcia brought you from New Hope that you didn’t like,” Reid said, giving her a significant look.
Emily sighed. “He’s right, Mom. I hate the stuff. No, Spencer, it’s fine. I ought to be able to tell her the truth about candy, for crying out loud.”
“Why on earth have you been pretending to like it all these years?” Elizabeth said. She didn’t look angry, just surprised.
“Because! That first time I pretended because we’d just had that awful fight and I really wanted it to be okay, and then you kept giving it to me and it somehow became our special thing and I just didn’t have the heart to tell you that I can’t stand it.”
Elizabeth was silent for a moment, then she laughed. “Oh, honey. We are tragic, aren’t we?”
Emily chuckled. “It’s such a stupid little thing.”
“What do you like? No, I think I’ll ask Dr. Reid, I know he’ll tell me the truth. Dr. Reid, what’s Emily’s favorite candy?”
“She likes anything chocolate, but her absolute favorite thing is a Cadbury Flake bar. They’re a little hard to find, though.”
Emily gaped at him. “I’ve never told you that! How do you know that?”
“Research,” he said, smiling.
Elizabeth was looking from him to her and back again. “You two seem – settled.”
Emily fidgeted a little, but kept hold of his hand. “Depends what you mean by that.”
“Is this getting serious?”
He watched Emily’s face. She looked at him, then smiled. “Yes. It is.”
“Have you told your team?”
“Not yet. We plan to. Finding the right moment is a little tricky. We’ve had case after case, and then I got sick – we really should just bite the bullet,” she said.
“Well,” Elizabeth said, adjusting her jacket and the knife pleat in her slacks. “I’m sorry it took us this long to meet, Dr. Reid.” He felt Emily stiffen a little at the implied criticism.
“I wasn’t keeping him away from you on purpose, Mom.”
“I never said you were.”
“Why would you think I’d hide him?”
“Please don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I don’t have to. You know I don’t introduce you and Dad to my boyfriends until it’s serious.”
“But you told me you were dating Dr. Reid months ago. Why wait to let us meet him?”
“Because I didn’t want you to judge him.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I know the kind of man you like to see me with. I just didn’t want to have to go into a big speech about why Spencer is the man I want to be with.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I just want you to be happy, Emily.”
“That’s easy to say. But your idea of what would make me happy hasn’t always been accurate. I’ve found a man who does make me happy and I guess I just didn’t want to hear reasons why I shouldn’t be with him.”
“Even if I had such reasons, would it matter to you?”
Emily blinked, then looked over at him again. “No.”
“Then why do you care what I think?”
Reid watched Emily’s face. He was rather interested in the answer to that question himself. “I don’t know,” she said, quietly.
No one said anything for a long few moments. Emily’s thumb was stroking across the back of his hand. Finally, Elizabeth uncrossed her legs. “Well, I best be going,” she said. “I just wanted to see how you were, Emily.”
They all stood up. “Thanks, Mom. I do appreciate it. And thanks for the marzipan,” she said, smiling a little.
Elizabeth chuckled. “Next time it’ll be chocolate.”
“Spencer will eat the marzipan. He likes it.”
Elizabeth turned to him. “It was nice to finally meet you, Spencer,” she said, using his first name.
He refrained from pointing out that technically, they had met before. He knew what she meant. “Likewise, Elizabeth.”
She hugged Emily over her protestations about flu bugs, then left. Emily seemed to shrink and wilt a little after the door closed, and Reid realized that she’d been unconsciously bucking herself up and throwing off the visible signs of sickness so as not to appear weak in front of her mother. It was weirdly reassuring to him that she didn’t feel the need to put up a front like that for him. “Can I have some more tea?” she said in a small voice, holding out her empty mug.
“Sure.” He took it and went to the stove. She shuffled back into the living room and laid down on the couch. He joined her there, setting the tea on the table. She shifted so her head was lying on his leg. He combed his fingers through her hair. “Emily?”
“Hmm?”
“Why would you be embarrassed by me?”
“Huh? I wouldn’t.”
“But you assume that other people would think you were.”
She made a frustrated noise. “I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around what that means. I’m not embarrassed by you.”
“But that’s what you meant when you said your mom would have…”
“Reid. Please. I can’t deal with this right now.”
“Is it because I’m not some tall handsome suit-wearing alpha male who could…”
“Spencer!” She sat up and turned toward him, looking annoyed. “Can we not? Please? My head is full of wet flannel. I don’t know what you’re getting at but I am not embarrassed of being with you. And you are tall and handsome, and brilliant and sweet and brave, and I love you very much, now please be quiet.” She flopped back to the couch, her head resuming its spot on his thigh.
He stroked her hair for a few minutes, feeling her relax. “You should go to bed,” he murmured.
“I like my spot right now. Can I just stay here for a bit?”
He smiled. “As long as you want.”
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Date: 2010-06-30 12:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-30 03:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-30 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-30 04:19 am (UTC)The marzipan thing was SO funny - I had a colleague who was continually given lavender scented gifts for birthdays and Christmases for YEARS by her boss, who was also the business owner's wife, and as she hated lavender she stuffed them all into a desk drawer and left them. In the office. For years. When Mrs Fraser found them one day while on the hunt for something or other, well, awkward apparently wasn't the word... Thanks for reminding me of a story about that place that didn't end with me plotting to assassinate someone!
Can't wait for the next chapter. I know this is essentially the same story as the backstory sub-plot from HTFL but it feels fresh and new - it's just so much more, seeing it fleshed out like this.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-30 04:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-30 04:27 am (UTC)Thanks so much for posting!
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Date: 2010-06-30 05:03 am (UTC)I've had Flake bars before, from a specialty food store. But yes they are hard to find in the states. What a shame.
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Date: 2010-07-01 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-12 03:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-16 09:46 pm (UTC)