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A/n this takes place after the end of season seven and does not follow cannon after that point. The idea for this two part story is partly from Tannerrose5 and that it has been raining her off and on for the past week. Please enjoy and be warned that the rating is there for a reason. There will be adult content.

He wondered, as he hurried through the downpour, why it always rained when he visited London. It didn't seem to matter what time of year, the rain was there like a relative you wish you could throw out of the house. He shivered, pulled his scarf around his throat and adjusted his umbrella.

The walk from the cab at the curb to the front door of her flat was short, but long enough to ensure his shoes were soaked and blowing rain found a myriad of ways under his raincoat and umbrella. He knocked on the door as rain pounded down in cacophony of sound that reminded him of the ocean crashing on the shore. He squeezed his left hand around his bags and looked left and right as though he believed that someone might be following him. He breathed in the wonderful aroma of ozone in the air and raised his hand to knock again just as the door opened and she was there.

"Hi," was all he managed to say before she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

Her mouth on his lips didn't allow him to speak. Her hands warmed him as they roamed from his hair, down his shoulders and to the buttons of his raincoat. He dropped his bags, and his umbrella as she pushed the coat from his body. She yanked off his scarf and had his tie free before he could get his hands under her shirt.

She groaned when his chilled fingers found her heaving breasts and kneaded them. Her head fell back at the heat of his mouth on her neck. He ripped her shirt getting it off her body, but she didn't notice or care. She hissed a breath and keened like a wild animal when his mouth found a nipple and bit down hard.

They moved through the semi darkness of the rain shadowed day, bumping into furniture and careening off walls. He stumbled and nearly dumped them to the carpet when she unzipped his pants and they slipped to the floor. He pulled her in flush to his body and kicked his way free of the offending garment. He tossed her panties over his head as soon as she pushed him into her bedroom.

He fell to the bed with her beneath him. The white comforter felt like Heaven after the storm, but he couldn't think about things like the softness of the bed or the sound of the rain on the windows. All there was in the world lived in her dark eyes and the way they made love to him with just a look. They were on fire now and they begged him to touch her, to fill her, to make her fly apart.

Her hands, her glorious talented hands skimmed over his bare shoulders to his waist and then to the boxers that still restrained his throbbing erection. God how he wanted her. It'd been too long and his body refused to obey the part of his brain that wanted to be soft and gentle.

"I know what you're thinking," she panted as he looked down in her eyes. "I have no interest in slow and gentle."

He answered by impaling her to the bed. She cried out his name and wrapped one, long, beautiful leg around his waist. She drove him home with that leg. She rocked him deep inside, like the waves on the ocean after a violent storm. The rain abruptly increased until it was so loud on the glass of the windows, it drowned out even her cries of release and his groans when he let go and was sated.

An hour later, the rain settled down to a gentle drumming on the pavement. He watched her get out of the bed and pull on a long, silky robe he bought for her when she'd left the States. He loved the way the peach tints made her skin glow. She ran her hands through her hair and left the room. He turned over on his back and listened to the rain as it fell endlessly. He put his hands behind his head and tried to shut out thoughts that were beginning to crowd his mind now that they'd made love, but they niggled at the edges of his brain like worms in the dark, rain soaked earth.

She came back into the room and joined him on the bed. "Hey," she said softly. "We didn't get to say hello properly."

He turned and faced her in the lowering light of the afternoon. "I don't know," he began. "I thought that was the best hello you've ever given me. I especially like your mouth on my –"

"Don't say it," she warned, but there was light dancing in her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," he shifted away from her and slid out of bed.

He stretched and looked around for his boxers until he couldn't ignore the feel of her eyes on his body anymore. Her eyes weren't sparkling with good humor when he finally looked at her. She studied him as though he were a suspect in an interrogation room. "What?"

"That's my question."

He found his boxers behind a carved, wooden chair near her dresser. He yanked them on and took in a steading breath before turning to meet her gaze.

"I'm not sure this was a good idea."

Emily sat up very slowly, like a snake about to strike. He flinched at the anger and confusion in her fathomless eyes. "Spencer –"

"It's been a year since you left DC." He interrupted. "I sneak away as often as I can for long weekends with you. We eat, we make love, we take long walks and we read to each other, but we never talk, Emily, not about the elephant in the room."

"I thought you were okay with the status quo. We agreed –"

"Yes," he interrupted again with a snap. "We agreed we'd make it work. You work at Interpol because you found your niche. I know that, Emily. I'm not saying you don't deserve to be happy it's just that –"

"Then what are you saying," she jumped to her feet. "That you're sorry we started this thing between us."

"No," he shouted over her. "I'm not sorry. I love you, but I want more than just a couple of days every couple of months. I want to be with you all the time, Emily. I want it so badly it hurts. It's worse than when I thought you were dead."

"Don't bring that up again."

"I'm not," he held out a soothing hand to her. "You know I'm not angry about that anymore. I just want you to be there when I get home from a case. I hate walking into an empty apartment."

She sat on the edge of the bed and he joined her. She let him hold her close. "I don't know what to do." She said and there was so much pain in her voice that his heart ached.

"Neither do I, "he agreed, "but I know I want more than fantastic sex and conversations that don't say anything at all."

"Me too," and now he could hear tears in her voice."

He hugged her tight for a long time. "What are we going to do?" She finally said.

He released her and went to pick up his pants. "I don't know. I wish there were some magic solution to the problem, but we both know better."

"Are you staying?"

He turned back to her, "of course I'm staying. I can't bear another day without you."

"Then don't put on your pants. Come here."

He went to her despite his better sense. "Emily, we need to talk."

"Yes, we do."

She let her robe fall to the ground. He dropped his pants and climbed onto the bed. The rain picked up again as she pushed him over on his back. "I guess talking can wait," he whispered as she kissed his forehead, then his cheeks and finally his mouth.

She straddled him and sat up. He looked up at her hair as it fell forward while she stared down at him with eyes that pulled him in to drown in their depths. His breathing hitched when she lifted off his groin area. He was hard again, as hard as iron and so hot in the cold air of the flat. She put her hands on his chest and his heart began to thump like a trip hammer.

"Emily."

She slid her hands slowly down his chest to the waist band of his boxers. "Why did you put these on," she pouted. "They're in the way."

He lifted up to let her yank them down to his ankles. "That's better," she breathed and her chest heaved.

"Oh…" he cried as her hands found his stiffening erection and began to stroke him long and slow. "Emily, don't stop." He begged.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

She engulfed him and this time the strokes were slow and deep as she swayed over him. It was hypnotic, the passion and love in her eyes as she brought him to the edge as slowly as a gurgling steam winds through a green forest of towering trees. He fell into the orgasm as smoothly as silk flows over skin. It was a long, low burst of intense pleasure that pushed everything out of his mind except the touch of her skin and the heat of her eyes.

"Emily," he whispered breathlessly when she slid down and held him close.

"Hm…"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Spencer."

Something hit the bed and a meow made them both smile. Reid glanced left to see Sergio walk up and sniff at his face. Then the feline meowed in Emily's direction. It was a distinctly put out meow and they laughed.

"Hey, Sergio." Reid let go of Emily and reached out his left hand to stroke the cat's head. Sergio ignored him and pushed his head into Emily's side.

"He wants a treat." She said over her laughter.

"Not now," Reid informed the cat. "You're interrupting cuddle time."

The cat meowed again and then jumped down to the floor. He stalked out of the room with his tail in the air.

Emily climbed off the bed and reached for her robe. Reid grabbed her arm. "Where are you going?"

"To get Sergio a treat."

"Do you always drop everything for him?"

She pursed her lips and tried to keep from laughing at his pouting face. "Do you want him back in here on the bed, with us?"

"You have a valid point."

She grinned at him and pulled on her robe. "As a matter of fact, I am hungry. Why don't I see what's in the fridge?"

"Good idea."

He was settling back on the pillows when Sergio appeared from nowhere and jumped up on the bed. Reid's eyebrows went up when the cat climbed into his lap and began to purr.

"Hey, I thought you wanted a treat."

The cat shoved his head into Reid's hand and meowed loudly.

"Emily's gonna be pissed at you."

Sergio simply curled up in his lap. "You're going to get both of us in trouble."

When Emily returned with a tray, she stopped short and stared at the cat. "There you are. I thought you wanted treats."

Sergio simply stared at her so she put the tray on the bedside table and took the cat from Reid's lap. "What're you doing?" She directed at Reid.

"He's the one that snuck back in here." Reid squeaked adorably.

She took the cat to the hallway, put him down and shut the bedroom door. Reid grinned when the cat began to meow loudly. "Now you've done it."

"Too bad for him," Emily said. "I don't have all day to wait for him to get his treats. I have something much more important in mind."

"Do you?"

She crawled into his arms. "Oh I can think of so many things."

"I thought you were hungry," he reminded her, but her lips on his neck were making his brain go blank.

"The food can wait."