Genius at Work, Chapter 12/15
Jul. 6th, 2010 06:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madlorificGenius at Work
A "Criminal Minds" fanfiction by MadLori
Sorry for the posting delay. Busy weekend and all.
Chapter 12
six weeks later
“Well,” Emily said with a sigh, looking over her mostly-cleared desk, “I think I’m ready to head out.”
Reid nodded. “I’m going to stick around for awhile. I have some work to finish.”
“Yeah?” she said, sounding a little disappointed.
He looked up at her. “I won’t be long.”
“But you are coming home tonight, right?” At some point in the last few months, Emily’s condo had just become “home.” Reid’s own apartment was feeling less and less like home, and his possessions had started to migrate to her place a little at a time. He was trying to keep the diaspora to a minimum seeing as in a short time he’d be moving into his new house. Hopefully, not alone.
“Oh, yeah. I have to call Rollie.”
Emily made a face. “Tell him to get off his ass and finish that damn house.”
Reid schooled his expression. He’d been misleading Emily about the degree to which his house was finished, because he wanted to surprise her. In fact, it was very close to being done and would be so within two weeks. “I’ll pass that along,” he said.
She put on her coat, then came around to his side of the desk. She glanced around. The bullpen was nearly deserted; it was almost seven o’clock. Hotch was still in his office and Anderson was puttering around the coffeepot, but that was it. She leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll wait up for you,” she said, giving him sexy-eye.
“That’s a good reason to hurry home,” he said, smiling.
She waved good-bye and left the bullpen. Reid looked up at Hotch’s office. That was the real reason he was lingering. He had to talk to Hotch.
“Did she just kiss you?” said a voice.
Reid looked up at Anderson, standing nearby with an amazed look on his face. “Yes.”
“Why?” Anderson looked like he’d been walloped upside the head.
Reid blinked. “I thought everyone knew by now.”
“Knew what?”
“That, uh…me and Prentiss…you know…”
“Really? No shit?”
Reid smirked. “No shit.”
“How long?”
“Nine months, six days. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard. Seems to have been the hot gossip item the past few months.”
“Wow. Yeah, probably everyone thought I knew, so no one told me. Story of my life.” He turned an appraising glance at Reid. “Well, way to go, Dr. Reid.” He clapped Reid on the shoulder, then headed out.
Reid looked up at Hotch’s office, the door partway open. He could see Hotch at his desk. He took a deep breath, got up and went to the door and knocked.
Hotch looked up. “What are you still doing here?”
“Can I talk to you?”
Hotch nodded. “Come in.” Reid entered and shut the door behind him. He sat down on Hotch’s sofa. Hotch came out from behind his desk and joined him. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I just – this isn’t about work, it’s personal. I hope you don’t mind talking. I feel like I need some advice.”
“Advice about what?”
Reid met his eyes. “I want to ask Emily to marry me.”
Hotch went very still. “Oh?” The single syllable was uttered with more neutrality than Reid would have thought the human voice capable of conveying.
“You think it’s a bad idea.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m a little surprised you’re considering such a step now.”
“We haven’t been together that long. Nine months. How do I know if it’s the right time?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think you can know. It’s just something you – feel.”
Reid sniffed. “I’m not used to making decisions based on that criteria. And I don’t think I’ve ever made a decision this momentous.”
“What about joining the BAU?”
“Gideon made that seem like a foregone conclusion.”
“When you had your mother committed?”
“That was out of necessity. This is something I want, not something I can’t avoid.”
Hotch cocked his head, watching Reid’s face. “What is it that you want?”
Reid sighed. “I want what we have to last forever. I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I want us to be – an us.”
Hotch nodded. “Sounds like marriage to me.”
“What do you think? Should I ask her?”
“I can’t answer that, Reid. I can’t see into your relationship. You two are so professional at work. I really don’t have much of a sense of what you’re like together. I do know that you both seem happy.” Reid nodded. “Reid – why are you asking me for advice? It sounds like you have all the information you need.”
“I guess I just needed you to tell me if I was crazy.”
A tiny smile appeared on Hotch’s lips. “I was crazy like that once. I never regretted it. Marriage is hard, Reid. It can be too hard sometimes. It ended up being too hard for us. But it’s also fulfilling, like I never expected it to be. Do you think she’ll say yes?”
“I honestly don’t know. We’ve never talked about it. We haven’t even talked about moving in together.”
“Sometimes you just have to put it out there and jump off the cliff.”
Reid frowned. “That’s a mixed metaphor.”
That got an actual grin out of Hotch. “I think you get my meaning.”
Reid pulled up to the house. All was quiet. Eerily quiet. He was used to driving up and seeing trucks and men, and hearing bangs and rasps and shouts. The lawn was sodded. The exterior was gleaming. The porch light was lit. And in his hand, he held a key. The key to this amazing house, which Rollie had presented him after their final walk-through the day before. “This house is something special,” Rollie had said, and Reid was amazed to see the big man getting actually choked up. “We took this broken-down old campaigner and made it gleam. It’s such a funny little freak. I’m so glad it’s getting some love, Dr. Reid.”
Reid had smiled. Rollie might as well have been talking about him.
In his other hand, Reid was holding a ring box. Inside was the ring that he hoped to put on Emily’s finger the following night. He’d wondered if he was making the right decision, but in his heart he had no doubts. He was only asking questions because he thought he should. Only ten months ago he and Emily had kissed for the first time in that Minnesota hotel room – sometimes he felt like he ought to send Roy Niedermeier a thank-you note – and now he was contemplating marriage? It was insane. Crazy fast. Way too soon.
Except it wasn’t, or it didn’t feel like it. JJ hadn’t seemed to think he was crazy when he’d showed her the ring.
The ring. Walking into that jewelry store had taken some intestinal fortitude. He’d been tempted to ask Morgan or Garcia to go with him, but decided against it. He’d make his own decision, he didn’t need anybody to hand-hold him. And he didn’t want to clue them in about what he was planning to ask Emily.
You’re going to ask her to spend the rest of her life with you. You, the awkward genius who looks like a stiff breeze could blow him over. She could do better.
But that was her call. She’d told him more than once that he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Did he think she was a liar? She gave no sign of exaggerating. She meant it when she said that she loved him. He owed her the respect of believing her.
That didn’t make it easier to walk into the jewelry store, though. The saleslady had homed in on him like a heat-seeking missile. “Good afternoon,” she said, all professionalism and customer-service warmth and perfectly coiffed hair. “What can I help you find?” she’d asked, knowing full well what it was he was there to buy.
“An engagement ring,” he’d said.
“Wonderful. Congratulations!”
“Thank you.”
“Let me show you to our engagement rings,” she’d said, leading him to a display of traditional diamond solitaires.
“I want something less traditional,” he’d said. “My girlfriend likes moonstones.”
“Moonstones?” she’d repeated. Reid had watched her dreams of hefty commissions go swirling away behind her eyes, but she’d kept up a good front. “That is nontraditional.”
She’d cheered up when he’d said he wanted platinum, with diamonds in the setting. In the end he’d found just the right ring. A ring which was now burning a hole in his pocket.
Tomorrow. You’ll ask her tomorrow.
It would be damn hard to sit across from her all day, knowing that for their already-scheduled date (they still tried to schedule dates with each other despite their near-constant presence in each other’s lives) he’d be bringing her here, showing her this house, and asking her to be his wife.
Wife. You might have a wife. A beautiful, amazing, kick-ass wife.
Take that, Alexa Lisbon.
He took his time going up the front sidewalk to his house, taking it all in. It was so perfect. It was something Edward Gorey would have drawn. It was something Ed Wood would have lived in. It was something Shirley Jackson would have written about. He just hoped that whatever walked here, wouldn’t walk alone.
He opened the front door. The period-accurate mosaic tile in the floor was every bit as fitting as Rollie had promised. The paneled wainscoting, which ran through the whole house, gleamed with fresh polish that Reid could smell. The battered hardwood floors, saved only through extraordinary effort on the part of Rollie’s crew, displayed years of traffic and wear from the shoes of library patrons, and Reid loved that. The wood shone in perfectly restored glory, the light angling off its indentations and imperfections.
He walked through the first floor. To the left was the front living room. The original stonework fireplace was still there, rebuilt and resealed. The library’s bookshelves along the far wall were in their original places; others had been moved to new locations throughout the house. From the living room Reid went into the den. Smaller and cozier, this was where the electronics were, concealed inside a cabinet cleverly built by one of Rollie’s finish carpenters to match the original woodwork. You’d never guess it was new. And then – the library. Reid grinned like a schoolboy, turning in a circle. This room was his fantasy. Since he’d been a little kid, he’d wanted a library in his house, and here it was. Every wall lined with eight-foot bookshelves, scavenged from the old library’s original fixtures. The rear wall had three shelves jutting out at right angles for more storage space. The ceilings in here were twelve feet; Rollie had built more shelving above and installed a rolling ladder along one wall. In one corner was a wrought-iron spiral staircase that led to the room above, which Reid planned to use as a study.
And this was the only room that already had furniture ready to move in. Three pieces were waiting at the refinisher’s shop. The first was a long, polished library table, which would be flanked on either side by two desks. One was a heavy mahogany monstrosity that had once been used by the head librarian. The other was a more contemporary, Dutch mid-century modern desk Rollie had found in the attic and had refinished. The mishmash of styles was exactly right. Reid planned to add two armchairs as well, an Eames for him and whatever Emily wanted for herself. This was the biggest room on the first floor, appropriately.
Reid looked up at the stained-glass windows and wondered how he’d come to own such a place.
He kept going. From the library he went into the back hallway, a sort of mudroom that led to the rear patio, and then into the kitchen. This had been the room they’d nearly gutted, to modernize the utilities, but it had been in a corner of the building without much character to begin with; in the old library it had been a storage room and washroom. The floor was concrete, which had been a suggestion of Rollie’s that Reid had doubted for a long time, but he had to admit it looked great. It didn’t look like a garage floor, which had been his fear. It gleamed with epoxy sealant and had been stained with a marbled gray pattern so it resembled a single slab of stone.
From there into the dining room, empty and awaiting a table, and then back to the front hall. Upstairs were four bedrooms, the study, and three bathrooms to add to the one bathroom down here.
All those empty bedrooms. If she says yes, you know what she’ll see when she looks at them. Kids’ rooms.
Reid shut his eyes. He wasn’t thinking about that, oh no, he was not. He and Emily had never talked about having children, even in a general sense not connected to their own relationship. His fear was that she’d want them – well, scratch that. He knew she wanted them. His fear was that it would be a deal breaker for her that he didn’t.
Later. That’s for later.
He stood in the foyer and got out the ring so he could look at it, as he’d done at least a dozen times since buying it. He imagined it on Emily’s finger. He imagined putting another one in its place, and hearing her say “I do.”
It was kind of blowing his mind.
He turned in a circle, looking around at the house. It was finally done. And miracle of miracles, Rollie had brought it in fifteen thousand dollars under budget. Morgan’s willingness to swing a hammer and recruit his house-flipping buddies to paint and hang drywall had saved Reid a chunk of change. He’d even gotten a little dirty himself, and was now qualified to lay bathroom tile – with supervision.
Nearly a year he’d worked toward this moment. This house, from the first moment he’d seen it, had felt like it could be home. The next night, he’d give Emily a ring, and then he’d give her this house. He just hoped she accepted.
Emily pulled Reid up the stairs. It was slow going, as they kept pausing to kiss each other, Emily’s new engagement ring sparkling on her finger. “I want to see our bedroom,” she murmured into his ear as they emerged into the second-floor hallway.
Our bedroom. I like the sound of that. “To the right.”
She pushed open the door and Reid flicked on the light. Emily gasped. “Oh, my God.”
Just the reaction he’d been hoping for. The room was pretty spectacular. Rollie had knocked out the attic above, opening the ceiling into one of the gables on the side of the house. The rear wall featured a picture window that was black now, but in daylight looked onto the park that backed onto the yard and the DC skyline beyond. There was no wainscoting here, but ornate crown molding had been hung and built-in cabinetry and shelves lined the room with wall space left for the bed and furniture. “Want to see your closet?” he said.
She looked at him. “I have a closet?”
“Here,” he said, leading her to the corner. “That’s the bathroom.”
She pushed past him. “Ooh, a whirlpool. You do know what I like.”
“And here’s the closet.” He’d made sure it was big enough for both of them. She wasn’t a particular clothes horse, but he did have rather an embarrassing number of sweaters. He suspected they might have to go into one of the guest room closets lest they take over the world.
“Damn,” she said. “This is all built-in.”
“Rollie was very keen that all the woodwork look original.”
“It’s all so…I don’t know what to say,” she said. She looked down at her left hand. “But this is the best thing of all.” She came back into his arms and kissed him. Reid had wondered if she was serious about christening their bedroom, and it sure felt like she was.
She pulled him back into the bedroom and they fell against the wall. He pressed her up against it and lifted her thighs around his hips, her feet leaving the floor. “I want you, right here,” he murmured.
She nodded, her hands clutching his hair. “God, yes.” She lowered her legs so they could get at each other’s pants, their mouths never parting. “Spencer,” she panted, shoving her hand down his pants to stroke his cock. “I need you inside me.”
He shoved her pants down and she stepped out of them, then hung onto his shoulders as he lifted her again, her back braced against the wall. He stepped between her legs and they fit themselves together, sighing as their bodies joined as they’d now done one hundred eighty-nine times before – but this was special. He wasn’t having sex with his girlfriend anymore, he was making love to his fiancée. Her head thumped back against the wall as she rocked against him, gasping, her neck arching against his mouth as they rode each other hard, hanging on, his feet braced so her weight rested on the tops of his thighs.
She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, her ankles crossing behind his ass. He was using muscle groups that didn’t get much play ordinarily, but he didn’t feel the strain. All he felt was her, all around him, taking up the whole world and all the space he occupied like they’d interlaced their atoms. “Baby,” she murmured into his mouth. “I’m gonna…oh, God I’m…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but then she didn’t need to. He felt her go, her fingertips digging into his shoulder blades as she shuddered, her lips grabbing at his, teeth nipping at his lips. His fingers were splayed out on her ass, holding her in place as he finished with a groan, burying his face in her neck, feeling her stroking his hair, both of them twitching and breathing hard.
She laughed softly, low and throaty. “Who needs furniture?” she chuckled.
They found a couple of foam moving pads that had been used to transport appliances and stacked them on the bedroom floor. It was better than nothing. They lay side by side, facing each other, not talking much. The change was palpable. Reid knew he could feel it and he was pretty sure she could, too. Just knowing what they were going to be to each other, that this was permanent now, made him look at her a little differently. Not just a woman he loved and spent time with, but a woman he’d chosen as the partner of his future.
Emily was looking at his face like she’d never seen him before. One finger traced his lips, circling them with a feather-light touch that almost tickled. “You’re going to be my husband,” she said, like she was testing how the word sounded coming out of her own mouth.
He smiled. “Buyer’s remorse?”
She shook her head. “No.” She hesitated, clearly debating something in her head. “I almost said no,” she whispered, looking concerned, perhaps that this might upset him.
“Why?”
“Boring reasons. Things we haven’t talked about, things at work, things that sound practical but mean nothing.”
“So why’d you say yes?”
She sighed. “Because when I think about the future I see you there. I want you there, always. That’s the only thing I know for sure about that future.”
He touched her face, brushing the backs of his fingers across her cheek. Her eyes closed when he touched her. “We have a lot to talk about now.”
She nodded. “I know. Like when, and where, and how, and a million other things. I don’t even know where to start.”
“I do. Let’s start by moving in here, both of us. The house is ready, we can move in whenever you want.”
She smiled. “I don’t think we’ll be able to find movers at this hour.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you’re excited about it.”
“Excited? I can’t wait. And not just to live in this house, amazing as it is,” she hastened to add. “But to live somewhere that’s ours, and to live with you.”
“Well, we’ll have to make do with your furniture for the time being. Most of mine isn’t worth moving.”
“Tomorrow let’s start moving the books over, yours and mine. We can work on that ourselves until we can get movers for my furniture. I don’t have a table big enough for that dining room, though. We’ll have to go get one.”
“There’s furniture for the library at the refinisher’s shop. I’ll call to have it brought here tomorrow.”
“Oh, God, let’s worry about it in the morning.”
“We’re not going to actually sleep here, are we?”
“You don’t want to?”
“Not until there’s a bed. I don’t think either of us would wake up very refreshed after sleeping on these pads.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She heaved a sigh and got up, extending a hand to pull him off the floor. “Let’s go back to my place and get a good night’s sleep. We have a long day of book hauling ahead of us.”
By four o’clock the next day, Reid was exhausted. They’d gotten almost all the books moved into the new library. His had already been packed, for the most part; after all, he’d known he was moving. So they’d packed up her books together and made many trips back and forth from her place and his, hauling boxes. They could have called the team for help, but somehow they both knew that it wasn’t time for them to know everything yet.
Reid had come back to his own apartment to keep packing his other belongings while Emily stayed at the house and kept working there. He had to be out of his place in the next week, so while they were moving stuff it made sense to move as much of his stuff as possible.
They’d get movers for Emily’s furniture, but they had managed the bed on their own, borrowing her neighbor’s pickup truck for long enough to transport the bed frame, box spring and mattress. After reassembling it, they’d stood back and looked at each other, amused. It was a queen-sized bed, but it looked absurdly small in the large room.
Reid had cleared his throat. “We’re gonna need a bigger bed,” he’d said. Emily had snorted laughter, smacked his arm, and they’d gotten back to work.
Now, he was working on the sweaters. He’d gotten boxes from his favorite bookstore and so far had filled fourteen of them. “Why the hell do I have so many sweaters?” he muttered to himself. He carted two more boxes down to his car, all that it would hold, and climbed in for the drive to the house for what felt like the hundredth time.
The minute he walked in the door, carrying two sweater boxes, he heard quick footsteps. He dropped the boxes just in time for Emily to fling herself at him. “Um…hi,” he said, confused but grinning.
“My desk! I love my desk! It’s amazing!” she said, peppering his cheek with kisses.
“Oh, the library furniture’s here?” he said, excited. “Lemme see!” They raced each other back to the library. The oak table glowed with a warm sheen. His mahogany desk looked like the prow of a ship. Her blondwood desk was elegant and modern. “Wow, it looks amazing!”
“Mine doesn’t really go with the room, but I love it!” she said.
Reid barely heard her. He was staring around at the shelves. “I thought…I thought you were going to organize the kitchen,” he said, trying not to sound too horrified.
“I was, but then the guys brought the furniture for in here and I wanted to be around, so I just started organizing the books.”
She’d unpacked at least ten boxes and had started some kind of system of organization. Reid blinked hard, his fingers twitching. “Oh, uh…great.”
She moved around the room, doing her spokesmodel thing as she described her plan. “Here will be psychology. Hard science here. History here. These shelves are big enough for art books, and I thought this whole wall could be fiction, and you look like you’re about to have a stroke, Reid.”
“No, it’s just…I, uh…I have a system. But this is fine! Really…it’s fine…” He swallowed hard.
“It’s not fine, you – my God, you’re actually pale. Is the idea of me organizing your books so horrifying?” She put her hands on her hips.
Reid shut his eyes for a moment. Remember what’s important. The books aren’t important. She’s important. “No, I’m glad you’re taking care of it and I love you very much.” He smiled.
Emily stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, Spencer. You should see your face. That is the fakest smile I’ve ever seen on it, and there’ve been some very fake ones over the years.” She came up to him and took his hands. “It doesn’t matter to me how the books are organized. I just wanted them out of the boxes in some kind of order. If you have a system, let’s use it.”
Relief flooded him. “Really?”
“Yes!”
“I use the Dewey Decimal system.”
Emily frowned. “But…none of these books have Dewey numbers on them. How do you…” Reid looked at the ground, self-conscious. “Oh. You have the Dewey Decimal system memorized, don’t you?”
“I know, I’m a freak.”
“You are, but you’re my freak. All this means is that you’re going to have to organize all these books yourself.”
“Okay,” he said, having been wanting nothing more than to do just that.
“Can my books be incorporated into your system?”
“Sure. The Library of Congress codes in the frontispiece tell me whatever I need to know.”
She shook her head, bemused. “Oh, honey.” She just patted his chest, chuckling to herself, as she headed out of the room, leaving him to his task.
A "Criminal Minds" fanfiction by MadLori
Sorry for the posting delay. Busy weekend and all.
Chapter 12
six weeks later
“Well,” Emily said with a sigh, looking over her mostly-cleared desk, “I think I’m ready to head out.”
Reid nodded. “I’m going to stick around for awhile. I have some work to finish.”
“Yeah?” she said, sounding a little disappointed.
He looked up at her. “I won’t be long.”
“But you are coming home tonight, right?” At some point in the last few months, Emily’s condo had just become “home.” Reid’s own apartment was feeling less and less like home, and his possessions had started to migrate to her place a little at a time. He was trying to keep the diaspora to a minimum seeing as in a short time he’d be moving into his new house. Hopefully, not alone.
“Oh, yeah. I have to call Rollie.”
Emily made a face. “Tell him to get off his ass and finish that damn house.”
Reid schooled his expression. He’d been misleading Emily about the degree to which his house was finished, because he wanted to surprise her. In fact, it was very close to being done and would be so within two weeks. “I’ll pass that along,” he said.
She put on her coat, then came around to his side of the desk. She glanced around. The bullpen was nearly deserted; it was almost seven o’clock. Hotch was still in his office and Anderson was puttering around the coffeepot, but that was it. She leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll wait up for you,” she said, giving him sexy-eye.
“That’s a good reason to hurry home,” he said, smiling.
She waved good-bye and left the bullpen. Reid looked up at Hotch’s office. That was the real reason he was lingering. He had to talk to Hotch.
“Did she just kiss you?” said a voice.
Reid looked up at Anderson, standing nearby with an amazed look on his face. “Yes.”
“Why?” Anderson looked like he’d been walloped upside the head.
Reid blinked. “I thought everyone knew by now.”
“Knew what?”
“That, uh…me and Prentiss…you know…”
“Really? No shit?”
Reid smirked. “No shit.”
“How long?”
“Nine months, six days. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard. Seems to have been the hot gossip item the past few months.”
“Wow. Yeah, probably everyone thought I knew, so no one told me. Story of my life.” He turned an appraising glance at Reid. “Well, way to go, Dr. Reid.” He clapped Reid on the shoulder, then headed out.
Reid looked up at Hotch’s office, the door partway open. He could see Hotch at his desk. He took a deep breath, got up and went to the door and knocked.
Hotch looked up. “What are you still doing here?”
“Can I talk to you?”
Hotch nodded. “Come in.” Reid entered and shut the door behind him. He sat down on Hotch’s sofa. Hotch came out from behind his desk and joined him. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I just – this isn’t about work, it’s personal. I hope you don’t mind talking. I feel like I need some advice.”
“Advice about what?”
Reid met his eyes. “I want to ask Emily to marry me.”
Hotch went very still. “Oh?” The single syllable was uttered with more neutrality than Reid would have thought the human voice capable of conveying.
“You think it’s a bad idea.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m a little surprised you’re considering such a step now.”
“We haven’t been together that long. Nine months. How do I know if it’s the right time?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think you can know. It’s just something you – feel.”
Reid sniffed. “I’m not used to making decisions based on that criteria. And I don’t think I’ve ever made a decision this momentous.”
“What about joining the BAU?”
“Gideon made that seem like a foregone conclusion.”
“When you had your mother committed?”
“That was out of necessity. This is something I want, not something I can’t avoid.”
Hotch cocked his head, watching Reid’s face. “What is it that you want?”
Reid sighed. “I want what we have to last forever. I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I want us to be – an us.”
Hotch nodded. “Sounds like marriage to me.”
“What do you think? Should I ask her?”
“I can’t answer that, Reid. I can’t see into your relationship. You two are so professional at work. I really don’t have much of a sense of what you’re like together. I do know that you both seem happy.” Reid nodded. “Reid – why are you asking me for advice? It sounds like you have all the information you need.”
“I guess I just needed you to tell me if I was crazy.”
A tiny smile appeared on Hotch’s lips. “I was crazy like that once. I never regretted it. Marriage is hard, Reid. It can be too hard sometimes. It ended up being too hard for us. But it’s also fulfilling, like I never expected it to be. Do you think she’ll say yes?”
“I honestly don’t know. We’ve never talked about it. We haven’t even talked about moving in together.”
“Sometimes you just have to put it out there and jump off the cliff.”
Reid frowned. “That’s a mixed metaphor.”
That got an actual grin out of Hotch. “I think you get my meaning.”
Reid pulled up to the house. All was quiet. Eerily quiet. He was used to driving up and seeing trucks and men, and hearing bangs and rasps and shouts. The lawn was sodded. The exterior was gleaming. The porch light was lit. And in his hand, he held a key. The key to this amazing house, which Rollie had presented him after their final walk-through the day before. “This house is something special,” Rollie had said, and Reid was amazed to see the big man getting actually choked up. “We took this broken-down old campaigner and made it gleam. It’s such a funny little freak. I’m so glad it’s getting some love, Dr. Reid.”
Reid had smiled. Rollie might as well have been talking about him.
In his other hand, Reid was holding a ring box. Inside was the ring that he hoped to put on Emily’s finger the following night. He’d wondered if he was making the right decision, but in his heart he had no doubts. He was only asking questions because he thought he should. Only ten months ago he and Emily had kissed for the first time in that Minnesota hotel room – sometimes he felt like he ought to send Roy Niedermeier a thank-you note – and now he was contemplating marriage? It was insane. Crazy fast. Way too soon.
Except it wasn’t, or it didn’t feel like it. JJ hadn’t seemed to think he was crazy when he’d showed her the ring.
The ring. Walking into that jewelry store had taken some intestinal fortitude. He’d been tempted to ask Morgan or Garcia to go with him, but decided against it. He’d make his own decision, he didn’t need anybody to hand-hold him. And he didn’t want to clue them in about what he was planning to ask Emily.
You’re going to ask her to spend the rest of her life with you. You, the awkward genius who looks like a stiff breeze could blow him over. She could do better.
But that was her call. She’d told him more than once that he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Did he think she was a liar? She gave no sign of exaggerating. She meant it when she said that she loved him. He owed her the respect of believing her.
That didn’t make it easier to walk into the jewelry store, though. The saleslady had homed in on him like a heat-seeking missile. “Good afternoon,” she said, all professionalism and customer-service warmth and perfectly coiffed hair. “What can I help you find?” she’d asked, knowing full well what it was he was there to buy.
“An engagement ring,” he’d said.
“Wonderful. Congratulations!”
“Thank you.”
“Let me show you to our engagement rings,” she’d said, leading him to a display of traditional diamond solitaires.
“I want something less traditional,” he’d said. “My girlfriend likes moonstones.”
“Moonstones?” she’d repeated. Reid had watched her dreams of hefty commissions go swirling away behind her eyes, but she’d kept up a good front. “That is nontraditional.”
She’d cheered up when he’d said he wanted platinum, with diamonds in the setting. In the end he’d found just the right ring. A ring which was now burning a hole in his pocket.
Tomorrow. You’ll ask her tomorrow.
It would be damn hard to sit across from her all day, knowing that for their already-scheduled date (they still tried to schedule dates with each other despite their near-constant presence in each other’s lives) he’d be bringing her here, showing her this house, and asking her to be his wife.
Wife. You might have a wife. A beautiful, amazing, kick-ass wife.
Take that, Alexa Lisbon.
He took his time going up the front sidewalk to his house, taking it all in. It was so perfect. It was something Edward Gorey would have drawn. It was something Ed Wood would have lived in. It was something Shirley Jackson would have written about. He just hoped that whatever walked here, wouldn’t walk alone.
He opened the front door. The period-accurate mosaic tile in the floor was every bit as fitting as Rollie had promised. The paneled wainscoting, which ran through the whole house, gleamed with fresh polish that Reid could smell. The battered hardwood floors, saved only through extraordinary effort on the part of Rollie’s crew, displayed years of traffic and wear from the shoes of library patrons, and Reid loved that. The wood shone in perfectly restored glory, the light angling off its indentations and imperfections.
He walked through the first floor. To the left was the front living room. The original stonework fireplace was still there, rebuilt and resealed. The library’s bookshelves along the far wall were in their original places; others had been moved to new locations throughout the house. From the living room Reid went into the den. Smaller and cozier, this was where the electronics were, concealed inside a cabinet cleverly built by one of Rollie’s finish carpenters to match the original woodwork. You’d never guess it was new. And then – the library. Reid grinned like a schoolboy, turning in a circle. This room was his fantasy. Since he’d been a little kid, he’d wanted a library in his house, and here it was. Every wall lined with eight-foot bookshelves, scavenged from the old library’s original fixtures. The rear wall had three shelves jutting out at right angles for more storage space. The ceilings in here were twelve feet; Rollie had built more shelving above and installed a rolling ladder along one wall. In one corner was a wrought-iron spiral staircase that led to the room above, which Reid planned to use as a study.
And this was the only room that already had furniture ready to move in. Three pieces were waiting at the refinisher’s shop. The first was a long, polished library table, which would be flanked on either side by two desks. One was a heavy mahogany monstrosity that had once been used by the head librarian. The other was a more contemporary, Dutch mid-century modern desk Rollie had found in the attic and had refinished. The mishmash of styles was exactly right. Reid planned to add two armchairs as well, an Eames for him and whatever Emily wanted for herself. This was the biggest room on the first floor, appropriately.
Reid looked up at the stained-glass windows and wondered how he’d come to own such a place.
He kept going. From the library he went into the back hallway, a sort of mudroom that led to the rear patio, and then into the kitchen. This had been the room they’d nearly gutted, to modernize the utilities, but it had been in a corner of the building without much character to begin with; in the old library it had been a storage room and washroom. The floor was concrete, which had been a suggestion of Rollie’s that Reid had doubted for a long time, but he had to admit it looked great. It didn’t look like a garage floor, which had been his fear. It gleamed with epoxy sealant and had been stained with a marbled gray pattern so it resembled a single slab of stone.
From there into the dining room, empty and awaiting a table, and then back to the front hall. Upstairs were four bedrooms, the study, and three bathrooms to add to the one bathroom down here.
All those empty bedrooms. If she says yes, you know what she’ll see when she looks at them. Kids’ rooms.
Reid shut his eyes. He wasn’t thinking about that, oh no, he was not. He and Emily had never talked about having children, even in a general sense not connected to their own relationship. His fear was that she’d want them – well, scratch that. He knew she wanted them. His fear was that it would be a deal breaker for her that he didn’t.
Later. That’s for later.
He stood in the foyer and got out the ring so he could look at it, as he’d done at least a dozen times since buying it. He imagined it on Emily’s finger. He imagined putting another one in its place, and hearing her say “I do.”
It was kind of blowing his mind.
He turned in a circle, looking around at the house. It was finally done. And miracle of miracles, Rollie had brought it in fifteen thousand dollars under budget. Morgan’s willingness to swing a hammer and recruit his house-flipping buddies to paint and hang drywall had saved Reid a chunk of change. He’d even gotten a little dirty himself, and was now qualified to lay bathroom tile – with supervision.
Nearly a year he’d worked toward this moment. This house, from the first moment he’d seen it, had felt like it could be home. The next night, he’d give Emily a ring, and then he’d give her this house. He just hoped she accepted.
Emily Prentiss looked down into his face, his dear, sweet face, and braced herself to break his heart, to say nothing of her own.
“Yes,” she heard herself say.
What’d I just say?
He blinked, his mouth falling open a little like he wasn’t quite sure he’d heard her correctly. “You will?” he asked.
Emily’s voices of dissent were silent. Oh, hell. I’ve waited all my life to feel this way about somebody, and now that I do, I’m going to let him go because he’s younger? Or because we work together? I don’t think so. She nodded, tears filling her eyes at the idea, barely allowed into her mind until now, of spending the rest of her life with this man. “Yes.”
--How to Fight Loneliness, Chapter 11
Emily pulled Reid up the stairs. It was slow going, as they kept pausing to kiss each other, Emily’s new engagement ring sparkling on her finger. “I want to see our bedroom,” she murmured into his ear as they emerged into the second-floor hallway.
Our bedroom. I like the sound of that. “To the right.”
She pushed open the door and Reid flicked on the light. Emily gasped. “Oh, my God.”
Just the reaction he’d been hoping for. The room was pretty spectacular. Rollie had knocked out the attic above, opening the ceiling into one of the gables on the side of the house. The rear wall featured a picture window that was black now, but in daylight looked onto the park that backed onto the yard and the DC skyline beyond. There was no wainscoting here, but ornate crown molding had been hung and built-in cabinetry and shelves lined the room with wall space left for the bed and furniture. “Want to see your closet?” he said.
She looked at him. “I have a closet?”
“Here,” he said, leading her to the corner. “That’s the bathroom.”
She pushed past him. “Ooh, a whirlpool. You do know what I like.”
“And here’s the closet.” He’d made sure it was big enough for both of them. She wasn’t a particular clothes horse, but he did have rather an embarrassing number of sweaters. He suspected they might have to go into one of the guest room closets lest they take over the world.
“Damn,” she said. “This is all built-in.”
“Rollie was very keen that all the woodwork look original.”
“It’s all so…I don’t know what to say,” she said. She looked down at her left hand. “But this is the best thing of all.” She came back into his arms and kissed him. Reid had wondered if she was serious about christening their bedroom, and it sure felt like she was.
She pulled him back into the bedroom and they fell against the wall. He pressed her up against it and lifted her thighs around his hips, her feet leaving the floor. “I want you, right here,” he murmured.
She nodded, her hands clutching his hair. “God, yes.” She lowered her legs so they could get at each other’s pants, their mouths never parting. “Spencer,” she panted, shoving her hand down his pants to stroke his cock. “I need you inside me.”
He shoved her pants down and she stepped out of them, then hung onto his shoulders as he lifted her again, her back braced against the wall. He stepped between her legs and they fit themselves together, sighing as their bodies joined as they’d now done one hundred eighty-nine times before – but this was special. He wasn’t having sex with his girlfriend anymore, he was making love to his fiancée. Her head thumped back against the wall as she rocked against him, gasping, her neck arching against his mouth as they rode each other hard, hanging on, his feet braced so her weight rested on the tops of his thighs.
She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, her ankles crossing behind his ass. He was using muscle groups that didn’t get much play ordinarily, but he didn’t feel the strain. All he felt was her, all around him, taking up the whole world and all the space he occupied like they’d interlaced their atoms. “Baby,” she murmured into his mouth. “I’m gonna…oh, God I’m…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but then she didn’t need to. He felt her go, her fingertips digging into his shoulder blades as she shuddered, her lips grabbing at his, teeth nipping at his lips. His fingers were splayed out on her ass, holding her in place as he finished with a groan, burying his face in her neck, feeling her stroking his hair, both of them twitching and breathing hard.
She laughed softly, low and throaty. “Who needs furniture?” she chuckled.
They found a couple of foam moving pads that had been used to transport appliances and stacked them on the bedroom floor. It was better than nothing. They lay side by side, facing each other, not talking much. The change was palpable. Reid knew he could feel it and he was pretty sure she could, too. Just knowing what they were going to be to each other, that this was permanent now, made him look at her a little differently. Not just a woman he loved and spent time with, but a woman he’d chosen as the partner of his future.
Emily was looking at his face like she’d never seen him before. One finger traced his lips, circling them with a feather-light touch that almost tickled. “You’re going to be my husband,” she said, like she was testing how the word sounded coming out of her own mouth.
He smiled. “Buyer’s remorse?”
She shook her head. “No.” She hesitated, clearly debating something in her head. “I almost said no,” she whispered, looking concerned, perhaps that this might upset him.
“Why?”
“Boring reasons. Things we haven’t talked about, things at work, things that sound practical but mean nothing.”
“So why’d you say yes?”
She sighed. “Because when I think about the future I see you there. I want you there, always. That’s the only thing I know for sure about that future.”
He touched her face, brushing the backs of his fingers across her cheek. Her eyes closed when he touched her. “We have a lot to talk about now.”
She nodded. “I know. Like when, and where, and how, and a million other things. I don’t even know where to start.”
“I do. Let’s start by moving in here, both of us. The house is ready, we can move in whenever you want.”
She smiled. “I don’t think we’ll be able to find movers at this hour.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you’re excited about it.”
“Excited? I can’t wait. And not just to live in this house, amazing as it is,” she hastened to add. “But to live somewhere that’s ours, and to live with you.”
“Well, we’ll have to make do with your furniture for the time being. Most of mine isn’t worth moving.”
“Tomorrow let’s start moving the books over, yours and mine. We can work on that ourselves until we can get movers for my furniture. I don’t have a table big enough for that dining room, though. We’ll have to go get one.”
“There’s furniture for the library at the refinisher’s shop. I’ll call to have it brought here tomorrow.”
“Oh, God, let’s worry about it in the morning.”
“We’re not going to actually sleep here, are we?”
“You don’t want to?”
“Not until there’s a bed. I don’t think either of us would wake up very refreshed after sleeping on these pads.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She heaved a sigh and got up, extending a hand to pull him off the floor. “Let’s go back to my place and get a good night’s sleep. We have a long day of book hauling ahead of us.”
By four o’clock the next day, Reid was exhausted. They’d gotten almost all the books moved into the new library. His had already been packed, for the most part; after all, he’d known he was moving. So they’d packed up her books together and made many trips back and forth from her place and his, hauling boxes. They could have called the team for help, but somehow they both knew that it wasn’t time for them to know everything yet.
Reid had come back to his own apartment to keep packing his other belongings while Emily stayed at the house and kept working there. He had to be out of his place in the next week, so while they were moving stuff it made sense to move as much of his stuff as possible.
They’d get movers for Emily’s furniture, but they had managed the bed on their own, borrowing her neighbor’s pickup truck for long enough to transport the bed frame, box spring and mattress. After reassembling it, they’d stood back and looked at each other, amused. It was a queen-sized bed, but it looked absurdly small in the large room.
Reid had cleared his throat. “We’re gonna need a bigger bed,” he’d said. Emily had snorted laughter, smacked his arm, and they’d gotten back to work.
Now, he was working on the sweaters. He’d gotten boxes from his favorite bookstore and so far had filled fourteen of them. “Why the hell do I have so many sweaters?” he muttered to himself. He carted two more boxes down to his car, all that it would hold, and climbed in for the drive to the house for what felt like the hundredth time.
The minute he walked in the door, carrying two sweater boxes, he heard quick footsteps. He dropped the boxes just in time for Emily to fling herself at him. “Um…hi,” he said, confused but grinning.
“My desk! I love my desk! It’s amazing!” she said, peppering his cheek with kisses.
“Oh, the library furniture’s here?” he said, excited. “Lemme see!” They raced each other back to the library. The oak table glowed with a warm sheen. His mahogany desk looked like the prow of a ship. Her blondwood desk was elegant and modern. “Wow, it looks amazing!”
“Mine doesn’t really go with the room, but I love it!” she said.
Reid barely heard her. He was staring around at the shelves. “I thought…I thought you were going to organize the kitchen,” he said, trying not to sound too horrified.
“I was, but then the guys brought the furniture for in here and I wanted to be around, so I just started organizing the books.”
She’d unpacked at least ten boxes and had started some kind of system of organization. Reid blinked hard, his fingers twitching. “Oh, uh…great.”
She moved around the room, doing her spokesmodel thing as she described her plan. “Here will be psychology. Hard science here. History here. These shelves are big enough for art books, and I thought this whole wall could be fiction, and you look like you’re about to have a stroke, Reid.”
“No, it’s just…I, uh…I have a system. But this is fine! Really…it’s fine…” He swallowed hard.
“It’s not fine, you – my God, you’re actually pale. Is the idea of me organizing your books so horrifying?” She put her hands on her hips.
Reid shut his eyes for a moment. Remember what’s important. The books aren’t important. She’s important. “No, I’m glad you’re taking care of it and I love you very much.” He smiled.
Emily stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, Spencer. You should see your face. That is the fakest smile I’ve ever seen on it, and there’ve been some very fake ones over the years.” She came up to him and took his hands. “It doesn’t matter to me how the books are organized. I just wanted them out of the boxes in some kind of order. If you have a system, let’s use it.”
Relief flooded him. “Really?”
“Yes!”
“I use the Dewey Decimal system.”
Emily frowned. “But…none of these books have Dewey numbers on them. How do you…” Reid looked at the ground, self-conscious. “Oh. You have the Dewey Decimal system memorized, don’t you?”
“I know, I’m a freak.”
“You are, but you’re my freak. All this means is that you’re going to have to organize all these books yourself.”
“Okay,” he said, having been wanting nothing more than to do just that.
“Can my books be incorporated into your system?”
“Sure. The Library of Congress codes in the frontispiece tell me whatever I need to know.”
She shook her head, bemused. “Oh, honey.” She just patted his chest, chuckling to herself, as she headed out of the room, leaving him to his task.
