Author's Note- Inspiration has been striking me today :) Here's My first Criminal Minds Fic. Enjoy!
Disclaimer- I don't own Criminal Minds or any characters mentioned here.
Setting- 5 years after the episode 'Zugzwang' but Maeve didn't die.
"You don't want to do this." Reid says, his hands half-raised, his revolver still in its holster.
"Oh, yes. I do." Rachel Matheson replies. "You think you're great, don't you? You think you can get inside my head? You gonna spin all your 'Behavioral Analysis' crap on me? You think you've got perfect life. Perfect job, perfect house. Perfect girlfriend. Well I never got a chance at that. All because you locked up the only man I ever loved. You and your perfect little team."
"Matthew was a murderer, Rachel. You saw what he did to those girls. Or have you forgotten?" Reid says, confidently. "He raped them. Held them against their will for weeks. Then, he stabbed them, and watched them bleed out. Watched as the last little bit of life left them. Eleven women, Rachel. All of them looked like you."
"You don't know anything about him!" She shouted, breaking down into tears. "He didn't do that. He couldn't!"
"He did. We have the evidence." Reid says in retaliation. "Now put the gun down and you can walk out of here alive. Put it down, Rachel." He takes a few wary steps towards the assailant.
"Give me the gun." He says as she lowers her weapon. "That's good." He says as she hands him the gun.
Morgan puts her in cuffs, and leads her out of the warehouse they are currently in. This case was one of the rare ones that they worked from Virginia. No flying halfway across the country, no relentless Unsubs that just didn't give up. Altogether, this case took less than two days, and now he could go home.
Home. Home to his books, home to his bed. But most importantly, home to his beautiful girlfriend.
She's probably reading right now. Sitting on our couch, reading.
"Reid." Hotch says from behind him, slightly startling him. "Go home. You can do your reports tomorrow."
Reid knew what he really meant. Go home and do what you've been meaning to do for months.
He stuck the key in the lock, and turned it. He inserted the second key into the second lock, and twisted it twice. The door unlocked, and it swung open. He entered, closed the door, locked it again, and took a deep breath before rounding the corner.
And there she was. Right where he thought she'd be. He sub-consciously ran his hand over the small cube in his jacket pocket.
Now or Never.
"Hey." He said as she turned to face him.
"Hey there." She said, a line that was accompanied by her unique smile. Slightly crooked, toothy, beautiful. "Case all wrapped up?" She asked with curiosity.
"Yep. I have to be back at work at eight tomorrow. Have to finish the case report."
She looked at the clock. That gave them thirteen hours, if you factor in that it takes an hour to get to Quatico from their apartment.
"How was your day?" He asks.
"Fine." She says with a smile.
He'd come to learn to accept that as an answer. Maeve was teaching in Georgetown, and she seldom liked to talk about her classes. Home was strictly a work-free zone.
"I'm gonna order take-out. Want anything?" He asks.
"I actually made dinner." She says.
"Really?" He says in shock. "You sure it's edible?"
"Hey!" She says, hitting him on the arm. "I'm hurt."
"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. What'd you make?"
"Pasta."
"Okay. I'll set the table, you get the food." He orders.
"Wow, someone's hungry." She says.
"Yeah, and it's not Watson."
Their toy poodle had been a permanent fixture in their house since Maeve moved in, three years ago. She gave the house a sense of fun.
Maeve laughed and walked off into the kitchen.
He removed the red felt box from his pocket.
No more putting it off.
When she came back in, carrying two plates of spaghetti, she said, "Hey, I thought you were gonna set the table."
"I was going to, but something else occupied my mind." He said as he got down on one knee and opened the lid on the box.
"Maeve Donovan, will you marry me?"