A/N: Finally, got my first chapter of this crossover up. As I asked some of my lovelies, it was debated about who would go good with Spencer, Dean or Sam. Sam won and my muse is happy with the choice. Let us see how long it lasts. This plot will be based on what info I could find, more or less I've seen all the episodes, but 11 and 12 seasons of both there is many. I'm old can't remember all the details. Please bear with me while it develops. I love Supernatural and I wanna go with a plot that explains why Spencer is so special. Come on, how many of us can remember what we ate last week, much less everything? Plus, he's so damn fuckable! Okay, please review and leave me some comments. And Happy Holidays!

P.S. The fic will start out as a Hotch/Reid, but the main pairing will be Sam/Reid. I'm sorry, I love them together but the point of the xover is to go for a new pairing. The team will make many appearances throughout the fic but it is going to be focused on Sam and Spencer being together.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything and not getting paid for writing this soon to be smut filled fic, purely to entertain those with naughty minds and a hopefully decent plot!

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Chapter One

"Honey, I'm home," He was home and there was no one to respond to the soft whisper announcing his arrival. The only sound to greet Spencer was the drip-drip of the kitchen sink, a problem that had been reported a week ago, and maintenance had yet to show during an off day to fix the leak. A wave of foolishness swept in as the seconds went by and still no one responded to his announcement. It was his apartment, naturally there wouldn't be anyone waiting for him to come home. Keys were placed on the nearby table, along with his bag.

His go-bag was still in the trunk of his car, waiting for the next time it would be needed. The team had been given the okay to head home and get some sleep but a call could come in at any time. After being away for five days, it was nice to be surrounded by his belongings. A nostalgic feeling settled in his chest as both shoes came off and the tie was loosened. These days being in the small dwelling was the only time he could relax and drop the façade. The last case had played hell on his nerves and things had gotten out of hand at one point.

It was near impossible to pretend that nothing had changed in his life. They had noticed that as of six months ago, something drastic had changed in his life. That change was that he had made the mistake of jumping into a relationship. The female members of the team had been the first to realize that he was acting different, picking up on the small signs. Penelope had been the first one to corner him and ask why he was smiling so much. His reaction to her accusation of 'If I didn't know any better, I'd say you got lucky last night,' had condemned him. It was hard not to turn red when he had in fact spent the previous night doing extremely naughty things. Hours later both blondes had been grinning and giving him knowing looks. Rossi had simply asked if he was seeing someone during the flight. Not wanting to outright lie and deny that he was with someone, he had given a clipped 'yes' and turned the conversation back to the case.

How could tell them with a straight face that he was sleeping with the boss? Aaron had asked to keep things between them. For weeks, he had brought up reasons why the team would accept their relationship, but Aaron had more than the team to consider. Spencer knew that things were easier for him when it came to announcing their relationship. The team wouldn't care either way but the brass wouldn't approve of it. It wasn't even the job that had his lover stalling when it came to letting the world know that they were together. After three intense arguments, Aaron finally confessed that it was all about Jack. So for months, Spencer had allowed himself to be content with hidden moments and a few hours on the nights Aaron could come over before going home.

Settling, it was what he had been doing. The last night they had met up, he had to be honest with himself. Spencer had booked a room, ordered in a fancy dinner, and had planned for a nice evening together. Aaron had stopped by long enough to kiss him a few times and then he had to depart. For hours, he had felt like an asshole for getting angry about being ditched. Aaron had been in his right to get upset that he had gotten pissed, and for that Spencer had apologized. However, the fight had been the turning point. Lashing out hadn't been the correct way to handle the problem but it was done. The fact remained that if Aaron was serious about the relationship, then he should tell his son. If Jack knew then they wouldn't have to sneak around. Being honest would make things easier and open up more opportunities for them to spend time together. Instead, Jack was under the impression that his father was straight as a board and there was nothing wrong with trying to dictate what kind of woman Aaron should date.

Spencer had felt the straw that broke his resolve crash down in the form of a busty, flirtatious, and beautiful teacher. Exactly three weeks, four days, seven hours, and twelve minutes ago, the math teacher had shown up at the birthday barbeque the team had planned for their boss. Spencer had spotted the woman coyly flirting with his lover, all smiles, and making it apparent that she was glad to be there. With more calm than one should have in that situation, Spencer had politely asked JJ who she was. The blonde had grinned wide and said it was Jack's teacher. Jack had asked her to call the woman and invite her to the party because Jack likes her. Spencer knew what it meant; Jack was trying to set his father up with his favorite teacher. Hell, he couldn't even be angry at the kid for doing so. Jack had spoken loudly for them all to hear, that he thinks his dad is lonely, and he wants him to find someone to be happy with.

Hearing those words had been another nail in the coffin. A child had stood there and without realizing it, he had pointed out a major flaw in their relationship. JJ had agreed with Jack, that Hotch did seem to be lonely. Everyone thought Hotch was lonely but they had been together over five months at that point. How could his boyfriend come off as being lonely if he wasn't alone? When posed the question, Aaron hadn't been able to explain why they got that impression. They could all tell that he was in a happy, if anonymous, relationship, but his boyfriend was giving off the signs of someone that was alone and miserable.

When Spencer had approached Aaron about needing time apart, the had been the question as to why. He explained that he wasn't sure if it was going to work and he believed they both needed time. In reality, Spencer knew what he wanted but he wanted to give Aaron the time to make sure it was what he had wanted. They had jumped into it immediately after a night of sex without really discussing what a relationship between them would mean. Without a doubt, he knew that Aaron cared about him, but was it the type of love that could keep the man happy? Would they feel the same a year from now? Did Aaron love him enough to come forward and tell those that were important to him that Spencer was just as important? Most likely the answer was negative. As the days turned into weeks, Spencer was sure that he had given his boss the out he had been searching for.

According to Penelope, his boyfriend didn't want him back. The hacker hadn't asked for a name when he had admitted that he thought his boyfriend needed time, so they had broken up. She had asked why, he was honest, and said his boyfriend wasn't okay with coming out to his family and friends. She had agreed that he should give the man some space to figure things out, but advised that he should watch for signs whenever he talked to or saw this person. This being his first serious relationship and breakup, he had asked what he should be looking for.

A boyfriend that is regretting the breakup should be showing the following signs: Signs of sleep loss, hesitation when parting via talking on phone or in person, and longing glances. Two days ago, she had asked how the prognosis was coming along. He had snapped that his ex looked right as rain, kept all contact to a minimum, was practically ignoring him, and had gone on several dates with someone else. The bubbly woman had frowned and hugged him, saying how sorry she was that it didn't work out for him. He was sorry as well, because they still had to work together, and it was all true.

Aaron, no Hotch, only spoke to him when it had to do with work. They no longer sat by each other on the jet, the other making sure to board last to sit the furthest away without drawing suspicions. Spencer had found himself constantly glancing towards his ex in the hopes that he'd catch something resembling a mournful or longing glance in his direction. Even while speaking to him, Hotch wouldn't make eye contact. Sure, he had been the one to end things but it must have been the right decision. Hotch seemed unaffected by dissolvement of their affair.

"Shit," that was what his life was amounting to at the moment, but it was the pain in his toe that had him swearing. What the hell? He knew exactly where everything was in his home and the coffee table was two inches over too far to the left. The big toe was hissing in pain and felt to be bleeding. The swear had exited before he could think of anything else to describe the reaction to stubbing his foot. Hastily, he maneuvered into his bedroom and into the bathroom, bypassing the kitchen.

Once inside, he hit the light switch, and plopped down on the toilet seat. The outer curve was split open, blood was trickling to strike the cold tile. It was a superficial wound, he wouldn't have to call for an ambulance, or take an axe to the antique table gifted from his mother. Perhaps, he should call Hotch and tell the man how this was all his fault. It was hard to concentrate on anything when all he could think about was how he had failed to make the man happy. If he had been paying attention he would have noticed that the furniture had somehow gotten moved out of place. A band-aid was applied after cleaning the area.

A bleeding toe was the least of his worries. The chances of being called on another case was growing with each hour, and it was getting difficult to pretend that none of this was getting to him. It hurt, that was the only way to explain what he was going through. He had known that by giving someone time to decide what they wanted didn't always mean it went in your favor. He had known that there was a chance that Aaron would decide that it wasn't going to happen. What he hadn't expected was that he meant so little that the man would have no problem immediately dating someone else. Why wouldn't he? Jack was in love with the woman, why wouldn't Aaron also fall for her? Being with someone like that meant making his son happy. Spencer wouldn't fool himself into thinking his worth rated in the same category as a child, nor could he love someone that would put anyone above their own child. It just broke his heart that he didn't even warrant needing time to get over.

Thoughts of his many failings kept him company long enough to change and climb into bed. Getting to sleep was going to be a chore. A setback to having cheap rent, the walls were paper thin. If his new neighbors weren't fucking, they were fighting. He much preferred the old woman that had once stayed in the apartment. Two months ago, she had been found dead from a massive heart attack, and within three days the 'wonder couple' had moved in.

Spencer had spotted the female twice while checking the mail. GOTH, possibly into the occult, and weird. Being strange wasn't against the law, so he couldn't say anything until pets went missing in the building. Being a bitch was also not something he could complain about unless some kind of damage was done. Having a young woman dressed all in black, dark makeup, and crimson contacts glaring at you while you grab your bills wasn't worth drawing attention to. He had been polite and smiled before leaving for work. He gave the female a few respect points for daring to wear those ridiculous six inch heels and being able to scale six flights of stairs and not breaking a bone.

The only reason he knew that a boyfriend or husband had also moved in was from the noise. Tonight, they were fighting instead of the usual. The ramblings barely made sense to him and it was another one of those. The female was shouting about doing something and not wanting to wait. The male replied with a gruff 'The master will not be pleased," and he had heard enough. With the leather, the two possibly enjoyed a healthy S&M relationship. It wasn't his place to judge another's lifestyle. Not when someone was shining a scope light in his window, twin dots.

Instinct kicked in and he was reaching for the discarded weapon. Blood beat in his ears, air caught in his throat, a response to the possibility of danger. Spencer scrambled to push himself against the wall and out of danger. Seconds ticked with no sounds of a shot. The light was still there, the tiny red dots indicating that someone was trying to take aim, but where was the rest of the beam? Turning his head towards his bed, in the direct line of sight, but there was nothing. At that angle it should be highlighting where his chest had been moments prior. There was nothing marring the blue sheets and the lights weren't moving.

The glow swung to the left at the sound of frantic knocking, the noise coming from his front door. Spencer imagined the expression of one's jaw dropping seeing the motion sweeping equally back and forth, like a pair of eyes before they disappeared completely. He had to rub his eyes when nothing but darkness remained on the other side of the glass. Had he imagined the whole thing? The set had turned in the direction of his position for a split second, impossible if it were a sniper. At that direct angle from his window there was nothing. He was on the seventh floor and the park was directly south-east from his bedroom window. A ray of light shouldn't move with a swinging motion, it would be directed by a shooter looking through a scope.

The knock had now turned into a pounding and his phone was going off. With one last glance towards the window, he went to answer the door. Logic dictated that a thief or murderer wouldn't announce their presence by knocking. The uneasy feeling remained all the way to the door, "Who is it?"

"It's me," the voice was the last person he wanted to hear from but also the most.

Doing so would make things harder on him, but Spencer found his fingers weren't listening to his brain. The lock was removed and the frame opened to show his boss standing there. "Hotch, is there a problem?"

"May I come in?" Aaron spotted the hesitation before the door was opened to allow him inside. Coming here was the wrong thing to do but he had found himself pulling into the parking lot before he could second guess himself. This entire situation wasn't working, "I know the last time we spoke in private it didn't end well but I don't think you really need that."

"Oh," Spencer almost laughed at the worried expression. He was upset but nowhere near enough to try to shoot him. "I wasn't sure who was knocking at my door this late and I wasn't expecting you."

"I know you weren't. I tried to catch you before you left the office but you were gone before I could speak with you." Aaron quickly analyzed the reaction to his showing up unannounced. Was it wrong to assume that there was a sign of relief that it was him? Why the gun? Spencer didn't live in a bad neighborhood and this wasn't the first night he had shown up unannounced late, but this was the first time he had been met with a gun. "Is everything okay?"

"What would you like me to say? Yes, I am fine," Spencer left the rest unsaid. He was alive and healthy, but emotionally he wasn't doing well. "Why are you here?"

"You know why," Aaron didn't think it needed to be said. He was here to talk about them. Did Spencer think he was the only one that was being affected? As much as he appreciated being given time to make sure this was what he wanted, he already knew that he didn't want anyone but the genius standing before him.

"No, I don't." Emotion clogged his throat having a calloused hand reach up to stroke his cheek. The touch was very familiar and it made keeping the promise to himself more difficult with each passing second.

"I…" Aaron wanted to say the words that would change everything. He wanted to give Spencer the relationship that he deserved, the one they both wanted, but it wasn't that simple. He had a responsibility to his son, it wasn't only him that would be affected. "I want to give you what you want, you know I do."

"I wish I could believe that," but he couldn't. Spencer didn't believe that things would be as terrible as Aaron feared. Jack loved his father and was old enough to understand what their relationship meant. Which could also be the reason the man feared telling his son. Did Aaron really believe that being bi-sexual would make his son think less of him? It was a sound fear and Spencer couldn't demand that he risk it, that was up to Aaron.

"Do you at least believe that I love you?" Aaron needed him to know that. There were things he had to deal with before he could commit. He had no idea how Jack would react to his sexuality or that he was contemplating on making the relationship permanent. The silence spoke volumes, sending a chill right through his chest. "Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?"

"Not at all if I'm to believe my eyes. You seem to be dealing with it well enough." Spencer's voice bristled despite the horrified stare. They had promised honesty when this had begun and tossing the accusation helped to alleviate some of the hurt that had been weighing down his own heart. "How did Rossi put it? 'This new lady must be special, I haven't seen you this content in years.' I think that about covers the extent of your anguish over my departure from your life. It's good to know that I was the cause of your previous misery."

"Dammit, of course you were the cause of it." Aaron snagged the arm before he could be left standing alone. He wouldn't finish this discussion through a door. "Listen to me. Yes, I was miserable but not for the reasons you think. Did you ever think what it was like for me? I was miserable because I was happy. I was finally happy again and I couldn't be happy with you around others. I don't like pretending that you are just another member of my team. I hate having to pretend that your life holds the same importance as the others when we head into a situation. I hate that I get jealous when JJ hugs you."

"Then why the silent treatment?" Spencer almost faltered at the words. He wanted to give in and accept whatever Aaron was willing to give.

"You ended it to give me time," it had been a selfless action and it endeared the genius to him more. "I still need time before I can commit to anything serious but I don't need more time to know that I miss being with you. I don't want to be with anyone else, I want you. Just give me time to figure out how to handle the situation with Jack and work."

How could he say no? Spencer didn't open his mouth until lips crashed over his own. The kiss mirrored the longing that had kept him up for weeks. It was easy to give into the request for more time. He wanted to believe that it would work out for the best and that Aaron truly did have every intention of working things out so they could be together. "Stay the night?"

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"I spy something yellow," Dean chuckled lightly at the scathing glare. The game had long lost its appeal hours ago on the drive east. The only pleasure it granted was being able to irritate his sibling into responding with a derisive answer.

"Corn, and for the next ten times, corn." Sam was starting to hate the color yellow. There wasn't much on the backroads that this town had the gumption to call a highway, except crops. The only station that one could catch was being broadcasted by the local church. Gospel tunes would put him asleep and he was near ready to crash for a change of pace. "Wanna hit the diner?"

"For corn," Dean heard his stomach agree that it would willingly take the vegetable if it meant getting food. They were into their eighteenth hour of non-stop driving and coffee would hit the spot. The day was starting dreary with a light rain in the air. "Sure, I could go for a bite."

The case would have to be put on hold for another hour. Stanton, Ohio wasn't going anywhere and neither were the victims. After getting food, Dean would be taking over, giving him time to sleep. Sam almost wished he hadn't found the case. Months had passed since they had run into anything child related. He still hated handling this kind of problem, but in this case over a dozen children had fallen into comas for no apparent reason. It was in their area of expertise and worth checking out.

"You ready to talk about it?" Dean popped the question for the third time since dawn. The plan was to keep asking until his little brother confided. He wanted to think that after all these years they were beyond keeping things from each other. Be it sleeping with demons, using or having dangerous abilities, or becoming the host for the leader of hell. To keep from drifting apart, they had promised no secrets.

"It's nothing to worry about," dreams were dreams. Sam didn't want to get worked up over a few dreams. They weren't premonitions, that he was sure of. The images weren't predicting anything, because they were all about himself. "They aren't like before, they are just dreams."

"Dreams where you wake up sweating or screaming." Dean knew they were bound to have some nightmares after all they had been through over the years but Sammy was having them almost every night for the last three months. Be it a fifteen minute nap or after being asleep for most of the night, his sibling would always wake from a dream. "You practically soaked my seat with sweat last night and it is below freezing outside, you can't tell me that it is normal."

"Tell you what, if I think the dreams mean anything I'll tell you about it, but let's worry about this case first." Sam recoiled at the mention of his last dream. He preferred some kind of premonition over what he had seen. A sign would be great over seeing himself that way. He could only imagine why his appearance would change or what would persuade him to have sex with a stranger. Not just a stranger, but an unknown male. The main reason he didn't want to confide in Dean was due to the outcome of most of his dreams. His brother might be okay with hearing of his dream-self having strange abilities but not the rest.

Sam would always try to recall who it was, believing it was someone from his past. The face was always the one thing he could never remember once he woke up. When he woke to screams, it was due to seeing himself fighting and losing, his broken and twisted body unable to save the other figure in his dreams. Times like yesterday, he woke sweating for another reason. The intimacy was so close to the real thing that his body felt like it had gone through the stages of exertion, and there would always be an issue in his boxers. A dream induced orgasm that left him sated and exhausted, it was embarrassing enough that he was having wet dreams at his age.

"Alright, Sammy," Dean let it go, for now. He'd take his word that it wasn't a premonition or something to worry about. They both had emotional and mental scars to deal with, "How much cash do you have on you?"

"Enough," the inquiry was dropped for now. It would last until the next time he woke up showing signs. Sam cracked the window to allow the cool breeze inside the cramped vehicle. Soon enough he would have to admit what was bothering him. How could he tell his brother, who was mad about women, that the best sex he'd ever experienced were in dreams involving another male? "Any idea what we might find when we get there?"

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Please leave comments for me, sorry for any mistakes... if there is any that are horrible, let me know and I'll fix it, thanx!