Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I have any legal rights to Criminal Minds and/or the characters thereof. I don't even own or have rights to the poem. The only thing that's mine is the fluffy plot bunny.

A Confession of Not So Unrequited Love

Morgan read the poem that had been left on his desk during lunch once again. He'd received many valentines during the course of his life, but this simple piece of paper with its hand-written poem was as unique and understated as the suitor and surpassed them all.

My love is like to ice, and I to fire:

How comes it then that this his cold so great

Is not dissolved through my so hot desire,

But harder grows the more I him entreat?

Or how comes it that my exceeding heat

Is not allayed by his heart-frozen cold,

But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,

And feel my flames augmented manifold?

What more miraculous things may be told,

That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice,

And ice, which is congealed with senseless cold,

Should kindle fire by wonderful device?

Such is the power of love in gentle mind,

That it can alter all the course of kind.

~ Sir Edmund Spenser*

It was easily the most beautiful and eloquent expression of unrequited love that he had ever read, but it was the confessor that touched him deeply. He recognized the angled scribble even though the note was unsigned; he knew the sonnet had been left for him by Reid. Lost in his own thoughts, he jumped when there was a knock at his office door.

"I took some liberties with the pronouns," Reid said softly, nervously as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. Morgan just stared at him, forcing himself to blink.

"You leave me this and then say that?" he asked incredulously. Reid cast his eyes downward and fiddled with the hem of his vest.

"If I could say what I want to say, I wouldn't have to borrow someone else's words to say it."

"And how long have you been wanting to say this to me?" Morgan inquired, his tone more gentle; he knew that this confession had to be excruciatingly hard for the genius to make, especially with his colossal fear of rejection/abandonment.

"A long time," Reid stated softly, "years, actually."

"Years?" Morgan whispered.

Reid nodded. "I, I, I'm sorry Morgan. I know it's not fair to do this to you, that I should have kept my feelings to myself. I, I, I just couldn't do it anymore though. Ever since Emily 'died' it's been harder and harder for me to not tell you. Even though her death was a lie, I didn't know that and it was an eye opening experience for me. And then I turned thirty, and I did some serious introspection about my life. And I hope that nothing ever happens to you, but if something were to happen, I couldn't live with myself if I never told you." Morgan stood from his desk.

"The sonnet's beautiful," he commented as he crossed the room, closing the distance between him and Reid.

"I always thought so," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Morgan pulled him into a hug against his will. Conceding, he wrapped his own arms around the stronger man.

"My heart's not as icy as you think."

"I wasn't try- wait what?"

"You heard me."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah, wow. I'm pretty sure it started to slowly melt after we lost Emily." Reid held onto him tighter. "I'd like to have dinner with you, so we can, um, talk about things. I think the restaurants will probably be pretty crowded tonight though, so how about I make you dinner at my place?"

"Really?" Reid asked, pulling back slightly to look Morgan in the eye.

"Yes, really."

"Okay. That, uh, that sounds good." Reid smiled and Morgan ran his fingers through the thirty year old's hair.

"One thing before you head back to the bullpen," Morgan began, his hand on the back of Reid's head, "never, ever, apologize to me again for how you feel or for expressing it." He pulled Reid close and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek near his mouth.

"I, uh, I won't ever do it again," he blushed.

"Good," Morgan replied releasing his hold on him. "How about you just come back here at the end of the day; you can just go home with me."

Reid nodded. "I'll be back in a few hours," he said, looking over his shoulder at Morgan as he opened the door to leave.

"Lookin' forward to it, pretty boy, lookin' forward to it." Reid smiled at the nickname he hadn't heard in so long before he reluctantly walked away.

* "My Love is Like to Ice" by Sir Edmund Spenser.

* I do not own nor do I have any legal rights to this beautiful piece of poetry.