Disclaimer: see my profile

A/n this is my take on how Maeve might have made blindfolds fun for Reid if she had lived. It's AU because I hate that they killed her off.

He wasn't quite sure he liked this scenario. Surrendering all of his control over to another person, even if it was Maeve, frightened him. He twisted his head a little and the silky cloth that encircled his head and held his eyes shut, whispered over the fabric of his pillow. He tried not to panic, but it struck like a fist to his face and sent his heart into overdrive. It was too much like being in that room again with Diane holding Maeve captive.

"Relax," Maeve whispered in his ear before taking his hand and snapping on one end of his handcuffs.

He'd gulped in air stained with cinnamon and sandalwood from the candles she'd lit before getting down to the business of handcuffing him to the headboard of their bed.

"I promised I'd make blindfold fun again, and I intend to keep that promise."

Skin, warm and soft, touched his bare chest and shivers replaced the panic that iced his blood. The warmth slid down all the way to the waistband of his slacks.

"Maeve…"

"Shh, just use your imagination."

Therein lay his dilemma. He wanted to see her blue-green eyes, and touch the silken texture of her hair. His mouth ached for the taste of her lips. He yanked on the handcuffs and heard her throaty, sexy little laugh.

"If you want out of the cuffs, all you have to do is say the word."

Funny, he suddenly couldn't remember the safe word they'd agreed upon. His doubts began to sink under the billowy weight of his desire for her. He shivered pleasantly when she straddled him and put her hands on his shoulders. He felt goose bumps jump out on his arms and something else begin to stir to attention.

"Please…"

She chuckled at the plea in his voice. Her weight shifted and it was his turn to laugh when her hair dragged across his chest.

"Oh," she said with fake concern. "I forgot you're ticklish."

"No, you didn't," he gasped.

She giggled. "No, I didn't forget."

"Stop teasing me."

She dragged her fingernails down his chest. He gasped when they scraped over his hard, erect nipples. Pleasure like hot steam shot into his gut and groin. His erection strained against the confines of his zipper.

"Maeve, please…"

He felt the heat of her mouth just before their lips met. His mouth opened for her as soon as their lips touched, but she didn't take his offered tongue. Instead, she broke the kiss and ignored his moan of protest. She kissed along the line of his jaw, to his neck and down his torso to the waistband of his pants.

"Can you see me yet, Spencer?"

"Yes,' he breathed.

He could see her in his head as she took his zipper between her teeth and dragged it down past his hard length. His penis jumped and he cried out when she licked him through his briefs. She dragged her tongue up to the straining tip of him and he mewed like a startled cat.

"Maeve, I can't hold on."

"Oh, I think you will," she breathed. "After all, I'm wearing too many clothes. Why don't you imagine me taking off my blouse? I just opened the first button."

He clamped down hard and tried to walk the line between arousal and holding out until the right moment. Pleasure swamped his good sense though and he yanked again on the cuffs. He had to touch her.

"Oh no, keep your mind on the task at hand," she said. "I've opened three buttons. You can see the edges of my bra. What color is it, Spencer?"

"White," he breathed.

"No," she shook one finger at him as if he could see it. "You can do better than that. I know what you like."

"Red," he groaned.

She tossed her shirt away and reached around to unhook her lacy bra. "You're taking it off," he said. "I can see your breasts."

She stared at him for a moment. "Are you sure you can't see through that thing?"

"No, I heard you toss away your shirt."

"Very good, Dr. Reid."

"I want to touch you," he licked his lips and she laughed.

"Not yet."

She lay over him and touched her mouth to his lips for the briefest of moments. Her hardened nipples skimmed over his chest and that was what nearly undid him. "I can't hold out much longer," he begged.

"Relax," she purred.

He whimpered when her weight moved off him. "Don't go."

"Concentrate, Spencer. What do you see?"

He bore down and tried to see her pulling her zipper down. He even imagined that he could hear the soft sigh of the fabric as she pushed them to the floor. "What are you wearing?"

She giggled. "What do you think?"

"The briefs," he gasped out.

"Yes, the matching red, lace briefs you like so much. I'm almost sorry you can't take them off like you did last week."

"Maeve…"

His hips thrust upward and he yanked impatiently on the handcuffs.

"Oh dear, I think I'll have to take them off. They are a bit wet."

He sucked in a breath and forced his mind to concentrate on the sound of her voice. He could pretend they were just talking on the phone. If she didn't touch him again, he might be able to force his body into some sort of calm.

"W-why are t-they w-wet?"

She giggled and straddled him again. "You're a smart man, Dr. Spencer Reid. I think you can figure it out on your own."

Her hands slid slowly up his torso to his shoulders. He shivered and bucked his hips.

"Talk to me," he said hoarsely.

"What do you want me to say?"

Her fingers, warm and soft, squeezed his biceps. They trailed lightly up to his hands. She clasped them and tangled their fingers together.

"Tell me what you said the first time we…"

"The first time?"

"You remember."

She kissed the middle of his forehead. He sighed and his body finally relaxed beneath her warmth.

"Yes, I remember," Maeve, said.

"Tell me again."

"The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise, we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them."

"Thank you," he said as she nuzzled his neck. "For letting me be myself."

She trailed her hands to his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. His mouth parted and she swallowed his gasp as she finally merged her body to his and began a slow dance that carried him away from the darkness he faced every day to the endless, brilliant light of her love.

She peaked first, which surprised him because he hung for so long on the edge of pleasure. She fell flush on his body and lazily licked one of his nipples as he exploded inside of her and sobbed out her name like a blessing.

"Maeve," he breathed when he could remember how to form words.

"What?"

"That was fun,"

She laughed, shifted and he heard the clink of the handcuff keys on the table next to the bed. She removed the cuffs and the blindfold. He blinked at the sudden assault of candlelight on his eyes. She cupped his face with her hands and smiled down at him.

"I told you I'd make blindfolds fun again."

He flipped her over on her back and ravaged her mouth until she whimpered in pleasure. "Thank you," he said after a long moment.

"You're welcome."

He rolled to his back and pulled her to his chest. "I love you, Maeve. I could never live without you. Don't ever go away."

"I'm not going away. I love you too, Spencer Reid. You're stuck with me."

He stroked her hair and breathed in the smell of her like ambrosia to the gods. "Next time, you get to be blindfolded."

She sat up and shook her head. "That's never gonna happen."

He grinned. "Oh, I think I can make you change your mind."

She tucked her legs up under her chin and smirked at him. "We'll just have to see about that."

A/n2 The quote from Maeve is from Thomas Merton.