Disclaimer: as always, I own nothing, no copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: For a while now, I've been wanting to write a first-person narrative from Emily's point of view. This one takes place after the episode "Proof" (7:2)
My name is Emily Prentiss, and when I woke up this morning I was aware that I wasn't alone. I looked over and saw Spencer Reid was in bed with me. When I say in bed with me, what I mean is that he was sprawled on top of me. And he was naked.
Then again, so was I .
My first thought was, "Holy shit, what happened last night?"
My next thought was "this feels nice." I should point out that until my fake death, the only person that kept me warm at night was my cat, Sergio. While I was 'dead', there was no one. And now here I was in bed with Reid.
How had this happened?
I'm not saying it was unpleasant, I just didn't remember this happening last night. Well, not at first anyway.
I dimly remembered the team gathering at Rossi's for a cooking lesson.
I looked around. Was I still at Rossi's? That would have made things truly awkward. I mean the point of us gathering was to help us reconnect as a team. Actually, I think it was so Hotch could convince himself that everything was fixed and move on.
Let's face it, Hotch, JJ and I lied to the team and made them think I was dead. You can't fix betrayal like that with some pasta and wine.
But everyone was dutifully there to pretend that you could.
Everyone except for Reid, that is.
As Rossi gave a small lecture about Italian cooking, interjected with warmth and humor, I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed Reid wasn't there. I mean, I didn't blame him for being absent, but I still hoped he would be there. The Spencer Reid I knew, the one I missed while I was in Paris, wasn't vindictive or cold. He was compassionate and full of forgiveness.
Except for his father.
But his father never came back or apologized for leaving him. Neither did Gideon. Of course, no one tried to convince him either one of them was dead when they weren't, either. I don't think anyone ever hurt or betrayed him like JJ, Hotch and I did. I hoped he would be kind enough to forgive us, but I could understand if he didn't.
So, the whole time Rossi was giving his little lecture on cooking, I had this huge knot in my stomach. I knew of all the people I've hurt and the betrayed, Spencer was the one I felt I had to apologize to the most. I don't think it an exaggeration to say my heart leapt for joy when he got there, looking like the Spencer I knew. He didn't look at us with the cold, insulting eyes like he had all week. This was the kind, accepting Spencer.
I have to admit, though, the knot in my stomach didn't disappear though. It loosened a little, but it was still there.
Then we started drinking wine and cooking.
I remember that Reid's food actually came out pretty good. I was impressed and said so. He smirked and said, "Cooking is just chemistry you know."
That's when I remembered that one of his degrees was in Chemistry.
"Don't let Rossi hear you say that." I said.
He smiled slyly. In that moment, it seemed everything was like it was before my time in Paris. I knew it wouldn't last, and so did he. For the time being, though, we pretended that everything was fine.
But eventually the evening ended and it was time for everyone to go home. That created a small problem. You see, I drank quite a bit of wine. Not so much that I was drunk mind you, but enough that JJ asked if I was okay to drive.
Rossi offered to let me stay if I needed to, which I didn't want to do. I mean, I've spent far too many nights away from my bed. I don't mind being away for a case, but a few glasses of wine….
"I'll drive her home," Reid said.
"Oh, that's nice but you don't have to," I said. I mean, I liked that he was offering but I didn't want him to feel obligated. The one thing I didn't want to do was take advantage of him in any way.
"I don't mind," he said. "And I'm sure you would rather sleep in your own bed tonight." His eyes were still kind and full of compassion.
I nodded and said, "thank you. I appreciate it." I felt a pang of guilt, like I was taking advantage of him. I didn't feel so bad that I wouldn't accept the help. Besides, this might mean he had really forgiven me. Maybe tonight was just what the doctor ordered.
I don't remember very much of the drive, except I felt a little warm in his car. It must have been the wine. At least, that's what I told myself at the time. As we got closer to my house, I felt a little disappointed that evening would soon be over. I mean, there was no reason to believe he would be interested in spending anymore time with me.
So, when we got to my house, I expected to just go up alone.
"Do you want to come in?" the question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I mean, it isn't that I didn't want to spend more time with him, quite the contrary. I really enjoy spending time with him, but I felt like I had to give him time and space. It would be selfish to expect him to be ready to spend time with like everything was fine.
"Sure." I really hadn't expected that answer from him.
So, we got inside and Sergio greeted us.
The knot in my stomach got tight. The problem was, you see, that there is such a thing a the Reid Effect. Almost universally babies, small, children and a wide range of animals don't react well to Reid. They cry. They fuss. They growl.
When they do, they make him nervous, which makes them act even worse. It's like watching a train wreck. The night was going well and it was about to be ruined because of the stinking Reid Effect.
Except what unfolded before me wasn't a demonstration of the Reid Effect at all.
What happened is Sergio came out maoing and chirping at me.
"Hey buddy," I said. I kneeled down and rubbed the top of his head, which he rewarded with purring. Then he realized he wasn't the only male in the room. He walked over to Reid and looked at him quizzically. I was certain the Reid Effect was about to erupt in my Brownstone.
But Reid bent down and offered up his fingers for Sergio to sniff, and he didn't seem nervous at all.
Sergio spent what seemed like a lot of time sniffing Reid's fingers, and then he slunk around Reid until he started rubbing up against Reid's legs and sniffed his shoes for a long time. Then he started purring loudly.
I was stunned, but had enough presence of mind to say "I think he likes you."
"That's surprising. Do you?"
"What do you mean?" It came out sounding much harsher than I meant it to.
"I mean, Emily, do you like me? I mean, you guilted me into coming tonight."
"Guilted?"
"You told me you got an ulcer and had to mourn 6 friends. Like what you suffered was so bad I should be ashamed for being upset."
So, it wasn't Reid Effect blowing up in my apartment. It was the Emily Effect. With the best of intentions, I make things worse for everyone.
"I'm sorry Reid. I didn't mean to imply … I just….I don't know how to say it."
"Say what?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you or anyone. If I could change what happened, I would. What I said on the plane….I just want things to be like they were."
"They can't."
"Oh." My voice sounded small and quiet. I didn't blame him. I couldn't. He had every right not to forgive me. I bowed my head while I wracked my brain for something to say, but nothing came.
I could feel that he was closer, and then I felt his hands on my shoulders.
"That's not a bad thing."
I lifted my head in surprise and was arrested by his hazel eyes. I was immediately struck with the amount of kindness in them. I was trying to figure out what was happening here.
"All I mean," he said," is that things aren't going back to how they were. Too much has happened, and we have all been changed by events. Things can never go back to how they were, and that's okay. I'm not entirely over what happened. And I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone. Just…." He paused, like he was trying to find the right words to express what he was feeling. "Just don't … I have a right to be upset."
"I know. I didn't mean to imply otherwise, Spencer. I'm sorry if you thought I was saying that. I just….I lost so much time being with the people I love because of Doyle. The worst thing that could ever happen is to lose you now. You, all of you, are the people I care the most about. I hate the thought I could have hurt you so profoundly. Especially you."
"Especially me?"
"After your father and Gideon abandoned you, I didn't want to be one more person who hurt you like that. And I didn't even leave a note, so I guess I'm worse than they are."
"No you're not."
"Sure I am."
"No," he said. "You're not. You came back. And you're here. You never know how glad I am that you're back. Just…don't do it ever again."
"Okay."
Then he kissed me.
When I say he kissed me, I don't mean that he kissed me on the forehead or pecked me on the cheek. I mean that he pulled me towards him and kissed me full on the mouth. This was no platonic, sexless kiss. This was a passionate, full-blown toe-curling prelude to getting naked kiss. It took me by surprise.
I mean, the way our conversation was going coupled with his attitude to us this week, the last thing I expected was for him to kiss me. Not that I ever expected a situation where he would kiss me, even before Paris.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should point out I kissed him back.
It was just muscle memory, mind you. I mean, it's been a while since a guy kissed me and my body was acting on pure muscle memory. I kissed him back, pulled him closer to me and ….
All right, so muscle memory only explains why I kissed him back for the first minute. The truth is, we made out for quite some time, like we were teenagers in back of someone's car. After the first minute or two, I fully recognized I was kissing Spencer Reid, and I really shouldn't.
I was having a hard time, however, recognizing why I shouldn't be kissing him. I mean, if a good reason entered my mind I would have stopped. And you wouldn't want me to hurt his feelings by pulling away without a good reason, would you?
Plus, I should point out that he's a really good kisser. I mean, Reid's good at a lot of things. He can read an un-Godly amount of material in a short period of time, he has a phenomenal memory, he can decipher complicated codes without the use of a computer, and he's pretty good at slight of hand. Well, you can add kissing to the list of things he does well.
After what seemed like long time, he broke off the kiss. I tried to figure what to say, but my mind was having a hard time functioning. It doesn't help that at that particular moment I was rubbing my lips together and trying to commit his taste to memory.
After a moment of silence he said, "Emily, your pupils are dilated."
Okay, when normal people say to each other it doesn't hold much meaning. When one profiler says it to another one, though, it's like saying you're really aroused right now, aren't you?
Of course, he hit the nail on the head. Just in case he was confused about how I felt, I started kissing him.
We starting kissing back, it was even better than before. I could actually feel my toes curl, and the knot in my stomach was completely gone.
Was this what he meant by things can't go back to the way they were? Because this I could live with.
About the time that thought was running in my head, he was kissing my neck and throat, and he was doing it with such passion that I moaning softly. Somehow, don't ask me how because I don't really remember, we ended up on the couch and I was no longer wearing my shirt or bra.
Now most guys, once there's no clothing separating them from a woman's breasts, will go straight for the nipples. Reid, on the other hand, slowly worked his way down, kissing just about every inch of my face, neck and chest above my breasts. When he got down that area, he very carefully flicked my right nipple with his tongue before he sucked on it. Then he lightly bit it.
The result was an intense sensation that caused me to cry out. He did the same thing to my left nipple and then he kept kissing his way down my body.
I don't remember if he took the rest of my clothes off or if I helped him. I do remember feeling a little self-conscious about him being too far south on my body. I mean, I try to keep it fairly well-shaved down there and right then it wasn't as shaven as I like it.
That didn't seem to bother Reid, though. After he kissed his way down between my legs, he started to put his tongue inside me, and moved it all around. It felt very good. Then, he tongue touched my clitoris.
In fact, his tongue kept flicking it, which caused me to let a strong moan. He noticed that, expert profiler that he is, and soon his tongue was giving it a little bath.
Most guys I've been with, they'll play with my clit a little, but mostly they focus on putting their tongue deep inside me or put their fingers inside my pussy. And that's the guys who give more than cursory attention to me down there before they take of their pants and want me to service their cock.
Reid however, kept going until his jaw must have ached, because he lifted his head just as I could feel myself start to come.
"I'm coming," I said in a moan.
I could feel his mouth clamp on my womanhood. Everything he did up to now was skillful and maybe a little restrained. When I started to come, though, his mouth attacked my pussy like a tiger eating a raw steak. He was sucking hard and lapping up all my juices. I don't know how much of an effect that had on the intensity of my orgasm, but I knew I could feel my eyes roll back into my head. I know when it was over, I couldn't think or see straight for a few minutes. It seemed like the room was spinning and everything was out of focus.
When everything came back into focus and saw him looking up at me, a slight smirk on his face.
"So, did you like that?" he asked.
I smiled. "That was great. I wasn't expecting …." I let it hang in mid sentence. As my eyes focused, I realized he was still fully clothed. For some reason, I found that offensive.
"You still have your clothes on."
"Oh, do I?" he said a little too casually for my liking.
I climbed on top of him, until I was straddling him, and then I practically ripped his shirt off. I started kissing him on his face and neck, ignoring his protestations.
"Emily I …." He kept saying, until I got to his chest.
It's been my observation that some guys get squeamish and offended if you kiss or bite them in their nipples. Other guys, it really turns them on. Spencer was a whole other category. When I first started kissing around his breast, he was trying to get me stop.
"Stop it, Emily. It tickles." He was squirming and trying hard not to giggle.
Then I lightly bit his nipple.
"Emily ….ohhhh"
It turns out his nipple is one of his erogenous zones, once you get past his ticklishness. I wonder how many women know that about him. I wonder how many women were ever in a position to find out. I wonder...
A/N: I intending this to be a 1 shot, but given the length, I think I'll make it a 2-shot.
