**First story, so hit me with some hard criticism. I love to know what my readers are thinking. This is a Strauss/Rossi one-shot that my clouded mind came up with in a matter of an hour, so it probably is not the most well-written, however I hope you enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, nor the characters. I am simply a hopeless romantic that writes about fictional characters.

The Reason

He struggles to find a reason. The manila folders filled with America's damnations sit on the corner of his cappuccino brown desk. He sighs and his tired eyes flutter shut. For a moment, the day's horrors conjure up the unwanted phantasmagorias that always appear after a tough case. He sighs again as the familiar sight of his dimly lit office surrounds him once more. The large black leather couch mirroring him is in no way a worthy companion and the world becomes colder as a shiver rises up his hunched-over spine.

There are only two lights on that make his presence known to his distraught co-workers that remain in the building: the simple antique desk lamp at his right, and the bright laptop screen sitting silently on his left. Numbers flashed across the screen, but the time was no matter to his thoughts; he was going home and no one was about to stop him. 9:23 PM. The digital clock on the monitor clicked and another minute went by without her. He removed himself from the cushioned chair and pushed the screen down in what seemed like one fluid motion. His day ended at six, but his flight hadn't arrived until quarter after seven and the mandatory reports, now laying in an aloof pile, had needed his attention.

The thick door locked itself behind him, saying its sweet goodbye until Monday morning. Luckily, they had gotten the weekend off, unless of course, mayhem decided to come out to play. He quickly brushed those dreadful thoughts from his clouded mind. He wanted to go home. Home. It was a monumentally unpretentious wonder as to how one word could make his heart swell, but it wasn't about the house itself – albeit, it was quite a large mansion – but rather what it held.

At the end of every terrible day, she would continuously be there for him. As his Italian suede shoes treaded over the threshold of their front door, he saw her comfortable silhouette sitting by the soft fire. A small smile graced his wrinkled face and he felt the stress begin to trickle off of his worn body. He slowly moved closer to her sleeping form. She had attempted to stay awake, anticipating his arrival, but the last case had gotten to her as much as he and exhaustion took her into a deep slumber. He gently rubbed her shoulder, rousing her from hibernation. No words need to be spoken as she pushes herself from the couch and finds her place in his arms, his exclusive musky scent filling her nose as her blonde locks tickle his.

The embrace is broken as she picks up the knitted blanket from her previous seat, tossing it over her left arm as she makes her way upstairs. He extinguishes the almost burnt-out flames and follows his lover's footsteps to their bedroom.

As they lie, harmoniously enveloped in each other's deprived arms, they unite their intimacy through sight. In a world filled with darkness, he knows that the light is not found at the end of the tunnel, but rather in the flickering intensity that scorches through her passionate and loving eyes. Those deep ocean blue orbs that had been the object of his affection for the past twenty seven years had now become his daily remedy, his saving grace. He knows why he continues going to work every day: somewhere in this senseless world, a person was being taken from his or her soul mate, taken from a family, taken from a place where they felt safe and they were thrust into an abyss. He could never conceive a single thought of her suffering. For everything that doesn't make sense, she does. She is the reason.

**Did you love it? Did you hate it? Review me please? ~Aly**