Catching Up

Summary: When Hermione Granger stops by Virginia to see her longtime friend, Spencer Reid, she gets more than she bargains for.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but an overactive imagination and access to a computer. Criminal Minds belongs to Jeff Davis. Harry Potter and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Hermione Granger swallowed down her nerves as she pushed open the door to the upscale apartment complex her best friend stayed at. Her heart beat pounded violently in her chest. What would he think about her showing up this way-unannounced and dressed in a dark purple bridesmaid dress?

She had apparated away from the reception of her best friend's wedding. Ronald Weasley had finally married. It caused quiet the uproar among the Wizarding world. Women gathered to protest the wedding. Ron was meant to be with Hermione, they said.

"I thank you all for coming out to petition for a heart that you believed broken," Hermione had said, "but it is unneeded. I am not meant for Ron and he is not meant for me." It was all she had said on the matter.

"I think you just lost many of your fans," Ron had joked when she stepped back into the chapel. He was marrying a muggleborn. Emma Clearwater, a young lady in Ginny's year, had wished for the wedding to be held in her family's place of worship.

Hermione smiled softly as she approached Spencer's door. She was not heartbroken because she had moved on, but because she had fallen out of love with Ronald Weasley in her sixth year. Why? She unintentionally fell into Spencer Reid's life during that summer.

Hermione was trying to hurry out of the way of the mass of people rushing by her. The sun obstructed her view, but the mass seemed to be reporters hurrying for a story. While fighting Death Eaters had honed her skills, she was no match for the many rushing feet. One man clipped her shoulder and spilled the books she had just purchased onto the watery concrete. She knelt to pick them up and was intercepted by a pale hand. Hermione glanced upward as the hands gathered three of the books while her own lifted two of them. The brown headed teen looked up and smiled awkwardly.

"Thank you," she said as she took them from his hands. "What are all those people running for?" She asked as she attempted to fight down the automatic fear reaction. Groups of people had been running in the similar fashion the night of the Quidditch World Cup. She hoped it wasn't the same thing on this busy Vegas street. The young man looked toward the hurrying mass and then back to her. He shifted awkward on his feet.

"I suppose they were looking for me," he answered. "I paid a girl inside the coffee shop I frequent to attract them away from the bookstore." Hermione smiled.

"You like to read?" She asked, "most of the boys I know don't. They would rather play sports or drive me insane…" The man gave off a short chuckle. He was squinting in the harsh sunlight. Hermione blushed slightly. "Would you like to go inside?"

"Yes to…" He hopped forward and opened the door for her before she could reach the handle, "…to…uh…both questions. I love to read," he said as he held the door open for her. Hermione smiled gratefully at him. Once inside, they stood in momentary silence. It wasn't awkward. They weren't even paying attention to one another.

Hermione was once more scanning a store she knew by heart. This one bookstore had the most extensive collection of books she had ever seen. Shelves among shelves lined the walls and stretched out into the floor like branches. It was a reader's nirvana. The owner of the store stepped out from the door. Behind the red door was the elder lady's stair well. Up those stairs lay Elle Earnhardt's home.

"Back again, Miss. Granger?" She called from the desk. Hermione smiled and turned her attention away from the shelves. Elle leaned against the corner with her hands spread out across the glass. Her large glasses balanced perfectly on a small nose. Her large brown eyes gave a small twinkle at the sight of the two teens.

"I can't stay away," she teased back. Through the small picture frames beside the shelves, she caught the teen smile.

"I must say I'm not surprised the two of you know one another," the salt and pepper haired woman said. Hermione looked back at the teen whose name she had yet to learn. Hermione pointed back at him slightly with her thumb.

"Oh no, we don't. We just met outside," Hermione explained. "I'm afraid I don't even know your name." Hermione said bashfully as she turned to him. "My name's Hermione Granger." Hermione shifted her books so she could extend her hand.

"I'm…uh," he shifted the books he had in his left hand underneath his arm and took her small hand in his, "Spencer Reid." Hermione smiled and shook his clammy hand.

"It's very nice to meet you."

Hermione drew her key from her beaded purse and slid it into the lock. Hermione pushed the light weight black door open and stepped inside. Her purple pump made a small click against the wooden floor.

"Spencer?" She called out as she stepped fully inside. She replaced her key inside the bag. "Are you home?" She questioned as she moved to close the door behind her. Hermione looked over toward his dark couch. His bag sat beside it. Worry caused her brows to furrow. She shut the front door then slipped her shoes off. The pumps hung loosely in her hand as she walked down past his couch. She suppressed a shudder at how chilly his floor was. Her feet made no sound on the wooden floor as she walked. She knew her friend would be teased relentlessly if his team found out about her; he would be teased even more so if Derek Morgan found out that she knew exactly where his room was. Hermione pushed open the door to his room quietly. Ever light inside by a small overhead light was turned off.

"Spencer!" She said softly as she noticed a figure lying on the bed with his arm over his eyes. At the sound of her voice, the figure lowered his arm. From the shallow lighting, she could tell it was him. She rushed to the side of his bed and knelt down. "Are you alright?" She asked. Her tone was soft and low.

"Yeah just a…a headache," he pushed himself up with his hands. The pale blue cover pulled with his movement. "What are you doing here?" Hermione nibbled her bottom lip as her eyes did an unconscious survey of her friend.

"I just got back from Ron's wedding," she said as she slipped up onto the bed beside him. Spencer's own brown eyes studied her now. "I'm fine!" She protested softly. "I haven't had feeling for him since I was sixteen!" A small giggle escaped her lip as she recalled the protestors. "But you would be amazed at how many people thought he had someone wrong me. Protestors showed up outside of the chapel!" Worry gnawed harder at her stomach when he only gave her a half smile. "Alright, spill," Hermione demanded as she scooted closer to him. Now there was barely an inch left between Spencer and her. She touched her forehead to his bravely. "What's up with you?"

Spencer couldn't help but close his eyes at the warm her touch provided his aching head. She always had a slightly higher body temperature than other people he had come in contact with. It never ceased to soothe him. Another factor about Hermione Granger made him slightly sour, she never gave up.

"I've been having migraines for the past few days,"Spencer started; he jumped as her warm hands touched his both sides of his neck softly. It was simply her fingertips. Her palms were sprawled across his collarbone.

"There's no proof that schizophrenia is genetic, baby," she soothed. Spencer felt his heart skip slightly. He wanted to argue the facts, but knew that in light of her knowledge of the mental illness he knew that it would be no use. "One out of ten children inherits schizophrenia from their parents. It's more likely if those children are identical twins and even more likely if both of parents have the gene. This is assuming that schizophrenia is, of course, genetic. You are not an identical twin and your father does not have the gene. It would have manifested itself by now in your father."

"The doctor said that there was nothing wrong physically with me, Hermione," Spencer argued weakly. Hermione looked into his panicked eyes with a furiously stern expression.

"Have you considered that the stress of your job is piling up?" Hermione proposed. Her hands slipped from his neck and onto his shoulders. The movement brought her slightly closer to him. She drew herself up onto her knees and sat back on them. "I'm willing to bet that's all it is," Hermione soothed as she squeezed his shoulders lightly, "because these muscles here are as tense as a finely drawn piano string." Hermione stared at him speculatively as the silence fell over them. Hermione slipped her hands from his shoulders and to his legs. She patted his thigh. He jerked slightly and looked at her with a quirked brow. She grinned. "Here, scoot up." She slipped from her position in front of him to allow him to comply with her demand.

"You know my team may be by later…" Spencer said as Hermione gathered her dress to the middle of her thigh and slipped behind him. She sank back to her knees and dropped the dress back down. She could see Spencer's blush through the mirror.

"Embarrassed, Spencer?" Hermione teased.

"Shut up," he mumbled. Hermione laughed. Her easy smile fell as she caught the flinch he tried to hide.

"Lay back," she commanded.

"What!" He yelped as he twisted his body so that he could look back at her. Hermione smiled softly.

"Oh, just lay back, you big baby!" Hermione joked as she pat her lap. With a small pout, he laid back. Hermione touched his temples softly and began moving her fingertips in a slow circle. The soothing motion combined with the warmth of her hands made a small groan slip his lips. "Getting better?" Hermione questioned. Spencer furrowed his brows. She blushed. She knew that her tone was slightly airy. He always had this effect of her. She was pleased that her hands weren't shaking as well.

"Yeah," Spencer said. The thankfulness in his tone was enough to keep her fingertips moving. "Purple is a good color on you," he hummed as she massaged his temples. Hermione smiled.

"I recall that you liked blue a lot better…" Hermione commented.

Hermione shifted awkwardly in front of the mirror. The baby blue dress was beautiful and she had chosen it, but the neck of the dress wasn't like anything she would normally wear. It dipped down in between her breasts; the fabric was drawn together with a beautiful arrangement of white, plastic pearls. The bottom of the beautiful dress fell to her knees in flowing fabric.

A small knock at her door pulled her attention away from her reflection. Spencer stood at the door. Hermione swallowed. He was dressed in a tux. The tie was undone. Hermione laughed and walked toward him. Her modest heels clicked softly against the floor.

"All that genius and you still can't get this right," Hermione teased. Spencer smiled down at her as she finished the slip knot.

"Well, it's a good thing you're here," he told her. Hermione patted his chest with her hand and pushed gently away from him. She grabbed her bag from her hotel bed. She blinked when she noticed her coat missing. Spencer cleared his throat softly. She laughed lightly as she spotted it in his hands. She allowed him to slip it over arms.

"Such a gentlemen," she teased once more as she turned to him. "Where are we going?"

"There's a…" he cleared his throat, "well, I thought you would enjoy it." Hermione turned and locked her hotel door. Out of habit, she left her key with the attendant at the desk. He smiled gratefully. It was awkward to clean a hotel room while the person was still inside.

"But that doesn't tell me where we're going!" She sang as he escorted her outside and toward his newly acquired Volvo Amazon. The day he got it he had been so excited. He kept the 1995 model in mint condition. They were eighteen and he was in love with his car like half of the men in America. Hermione laughed at the gentle way he closed the door as she buckled her seat belt.

"You'll see when we get there," he told her as he started the car. Silence fell over them as he drove. The city never ceased to amaze Hermione. The lights, the people, it all fascinated her. Spencer smiled as he drove. Every now and again his eyes would find her face again. The easy smile on her lips as she gazed out the window always brought one of his own to his lips. "You look beautiful in blue you know," he complimented shyly. Hermione rewarded him with a wide smile.

"And you don't look so bad in a tux," she returned. He let out a small chuckle as he drove. "I really would love to know where we're going, handsome," she said. Spencer laughed.

"Sucking up with get you nowhere," he teased. Hermione snorted softly.

"It got me a blush didn't it?" Hermione teased back.

"Shut up…" He grumbled.

Hermione smiled down at him as the memory came to a close. Her fingers had never stopped their soft massage of his temples.

"I still can't believe that you got us table 63 at the Alize," Hermione said. "I still do not want to know how much money you spent that night." Spencer chuckled softly; his eyes were still closed.

"When you have connections, you don't spend all that much. Besides we split the bill, didn't we?" He pointed out. Hermione smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, but I'm sure you split the fraction unevenly so that I wouldn't freak out," Hermione said as she bend down and kissed his forehead. He opened his eyes and stared into hers. She smiled.

"I've missed you, you know," he told her as he raised his hand to her cheek. His thumb rubbed across her cheek. She smiled and kissed the inside of his palm.

"I've missed you too," she told him.

"You know, I had originally planned to propose that night," Spencer said. Hermione's mouth fell open as his cheeks reddened. "But I lost the nerve when I got to your front door."

"What's stopping you now?" Hermione asked. The conversation vaguely reminded her of Remus and Tonks. For years they had fought what they felt, only to have it ripped away from them when they finally caved to it.

"Would you have said yes?" He asked. A sense of heaviness fell over the two nearly lovers. They had been too young back then to make such decisions; at the same time, it could have been the best decision of their lives.

"I would have," Hermione told him. "And I still would…say yes, I mean." Spencer's mouth fell open in a soft 'o'. "I suppose it all depends on if you still want me." Hermione said quietly. She looked away from Spencer's still surprised face and to the floor. She couldn't see anything but the small heel of her shoe in the darkness. Her eyes widened as Spencer's hand tangled in her hair. She looked back at him for a moment; he seized the opportunity and pulled her downward. She didn't resist. She complied instantly. Their lips met softly. It was a gentle peck, but the beginning of a fire.

(A/N: Anything NC-17 rating will be on . You can search the story name or Steph_Rob94 which is my pen name on that site.)

"You do realize we have a lot of catching up to do?" Hermione questioned, looking up at him. Spencer grinned impishly. His fingertips grazed over her ribcage from underneath the covers. He looked down at her with a lazy smile.

"I look forward to it," he flirted just as the door to his bedroom opened the rest of the way. Derek Morgan's coat fell from his limp fingers as he spotted them. His mouth hit the floor along with his coat. Spencer couldn't help the small laugh that escaped his lips as Hermione disappeared underneath the covers. All that was visible was her curly hair. He hissed when she pinched him.

"Shut up!" She hissed from underneath the covers.

"I'll just…be out here," Morgan motioned toward the door with a jerk of his thumb. He left his jacket on the floor at Spencer's door. Hermione resurfaced once Morgan's footsteps were far enough away. She grabbed her bag and pulled from it a button up shirt and a pair of leggings. Spencer still marveled at the existence of magic. He was still thinking on it when his button up shirt and his pants smacked him on the chest.