1:
"You alright?" Her hand brushed gently against the rough fabric of his chestnut vest, sending blistering shivers trickling down his spine, as she took the seat transverse from him in the jet.
"I'm just- tired." He shook his head, setting his book down on the sturdy cherry-wood table. "Aren't you?" Reid continued after a short pause, trying to avert eye contact with her. In spite of all the time that they had spent together, he never quite understood why tension still existed between them. Or maybe, it was just paranoia on his own part.
"Not quite. Then again, I wasn't the one that had to deal with that Harvey guy, right? And then there was Newburg… And I don't have to construct the interrogation report." Emily chuckled, in attempt to lighten the mood, only to end the meagre laugh with a sigh. Reid reacted nervously with his signature awkward smile, before he cringed in a rictus of discomfort.
"I'm sorry. I should've been a little more sensitive. I- I uh- I just wanted to ask if you'd like to talk about it. I know this one's affecting you in a way that other cases haven't, and-" She halted her speech, as Reid tilted his chin for his gaze to meet hers.
"Yeah, I'd like that." Reid smiled, though this time, sincerely. He guided his glare back to his tanned corduroys, not contemplating Prentiss' smile.
"So, what's the genius Doctor Reid reading over here today?" She gave their conversation a nudge.
"The uh- The Southern Literary Messenger. It's a compilation of poems, consisting of both fiction, and non-fiction, and uh- historical notations." Reid replied confidently, as his fingers trailed off to toy with the fabric of his corduroys.
"Sounds- interesting enough." Prentiss smirked.
"I find your condescending comments on my literary choices strangely… Alluring." He smiled exultantly upon the fact that he had dumbfounded Prentiss. The latter could not deny his flattery had a lasting effect on her.
"Quite the erudite sycophant, aren't you, Doctor Reid?" She finally replied rhetorically, trying to conceal her subtly flushed cheeks.
"I'm just, uh- stating the facts. You should be aware that I do not have the compulsive habit of lying." Reid replied, giggling. "Or bootlicking, for that matter." His words could not have proven to be any less of an evisceration for her, as she tried to bury her widened grin.
"There isn't a reason for my attempt to cajole you, in any case. We are of the same rank, Emily." Reid continued, feeling beads of perspiration form at the foot of his scalp.
"Then why not tell Hotch he's 'alluring', huh? Maybe that'll earn you a raise." Prentiss responded humorously, cocking an eyebrow.
"I doubt that's such a good idea." Reid spoke in a hushed tone, wincing at the thought of it, snickering at her joke, before redirecting his line of sight to his corduroys. He, however, could not resist stealing several glances at his charming female counterpart as he did.
"Alright, I'll leave you to sleep first. You'll need to rest up," Prentiss smiled compassionately as she got off the seat. "You shouldn't give your headaches a chance to relapse." She spoke with a whisper, leaning to his ear, as she patted him on his stiffened shoulder. Wary of attracting the attention of the other teammates, Reid turned his head gradually, watching her slender silhouette fade into the darkness that shrouded the rest of the jet. The negligent boundaries of his train of thought left him wafting away, relinquishing how she had known he was not ready to discuss his problems quite yet, despite his longing to. Being a genius with an astonishingly eminent IQ quota did not comfort his sense of incompetency at understanding matters regarding emotions. Some things, he felt, he might never come to comprehend. With that, Reid unwittingly drifted into sleep.
The turbulence amidst the flight path was the least bit effective in awaking Reid. The jet, for the next four hours, was plagued in silence.
"Hello?" Reid called out. "Anybody here?"
"I need a medic! Stat!" An unsettlingly familiar voice rang through the barren area. The plea echoed throughout the dimly-lit corridor.
The temperature of the area unnerved the young genius, sending bitter shivers down his entire being, as he approached the comforting lambent glow. Silhouettes crept and pranced on the corridor walls, becoming increasingly clear as he quickened his footsteps, despite the paralysing numbness in his feet. This was peculiarly familiar.
Reid's face turned puce immediately, as he bore witness to the root of the mayhem. Within an arm's length, stood a lifeless carbon copy of himself, which lay motionless in a puddle of thick, burgundy liquid. Mourning next to the corpse, was Morgan, pressing a blood stained piece of fabric to the base of his neck.
"Come on Reid! Don't you do this! Reid!"
"Morgan! He's gone!" Hotch barked unmistakably, forcibly yanking the muscular man off the body.
"No!" Morgan fought adamantly, delivering a jaw-fracturing blow to his superior's face, sending the latter crashing, and dismantling a metal shelf. Seemingly out of nowhere, Jeff Newburg emerged from the abyss, tilting his gun at Morgan.
"Morgan!" Reid frantically called out, running towards Newburg, in attempt to tackle and disarm him. He ran hysterically, and in the nick of time, he had reached Newburg. Little did he know, at the crack of a blood-curdling shot, Morgan was hit, his body, sent plummeting to the hard ground.
"Reid?" A warm voice whispered gently into his ear, causing him to jolt upright.
"Wha- Oh, it's you." Reid sighed in relief, allowing his palpitations to return to their norm.
"Are you alright?" Emily asked, caressing his arm.
"Yeah. Nightmare. It's nothing. Where's Morgan?" He responded, taking in a deep gush of air, as he flipped his hair.
"Morgan? Everyone's just left. We're back home. Why'd you ask?" Prentiss smiled benignly, whipping out a piece of tissue.
"The uh- It was about Morgan. It's nothing, really." Reid replied, smiling forcibly at Prentiss.
"It's never nothing. Especially if it gets you breaking out in cold sweat." Prentiss leaned over, wiping the sweat off his temples. "Like this."
"Technically, sweat isn't cold. Well, it turns cold, but it never is cold by nature, as it is secreted from our eccrine glands. It's because our base heart rate increases sharply when we are nervous, hence our bodies undergo excessive homeostasis when our sympathetic nerves send neurotransmitters to our brains' hypothalamus, hence commencing diaphoresis, and-" Reid paused and chuckled, as his eyes met Emily's. "I'm sorry, I'm having one of my digressive episodes again. I'm probably boring you." He continued with a shy chortle.
"So you were nervous, huh? But hey. You're laughing now. That's a good sign. I'd sit here the whole night if that'd make you feel any better." Emily pried his palm open softly, and handed him the tissue, which he slid into his pocket. "Sadly, I don't think Captain Greg will be very willing to do the same. He's got to get the jet back into the warehouse, you know." Emily laughed, handing Reid his satchel and exiting the jet, as he followed suit, with a broad smile spreading across his face.
"Hey, uh- Emily?" Reid stuttered.
"Yeah?" She turned around, whilst walking away from the jet.
"Thank you. For everything." He smiled, his eyes lighting up in the deep of the night.
"What are friends for, right?" She replied, regulating her footsteps to match his speed. She nudged him in the elbow, startling him. It was a feeling unbeknownst to him, as he peered into her gaze. The sheer amalgam of complex emotions that erected his goose bumps when she touched him was utterly foreign to him. He often wondered what it was, or rather if there even was a term for it.
"Reid?" Emily gave him another nudge.
"Yeah- I'm sorry. I just got lost in my thoughts for a minute there." Reid replied, adverting her gaze.
"Don't you always." Emily responded with sarcasm. "In any case, we don't get tomorrow off, so you really should get home, and get some rest. I, for one, can't wait for a nice hot shower." She laughed, shrugging.
"I guess I really should." Reid smiled, tossing his satchel over his shoulder. "So, do you have any other plans tonight?" He asked innocently.
"Nah, I'll just be getting comfy with Sergio. And that bath. That's it. How about you? Garcia's been yelling at me to get some insight into Doctor Reid's personal life. Mind shedding some light on it for me?" Emily joked, oblivious to the blushing of Reid's cheeks.
"I- I think Garcia told you to do it because she couldn't dig up anything on me. And that's because I don't really have too much of a personal life, quite frankly. I don't have friends apart from the few of you, and neither do I have a partner, per se. That is, with the assumption that nobody in this team would consider my reading material as a barometer for how exciting my rather non-existent personal life is, right?" Reid fumbled with his thumbs, and he could not help but to feel ashamed of it.
"Well, books can be personal. The Southern Literary Messenger, for example, tells me exactly what kind of a person you are." Emily smiled, stroking the lean man's back.
"Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
The weary, way-worn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.
On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
To the glory that was Greece,
And the grandeur that was Rome.
That's from 'To Helen', by Edgar Allen Poe. What does that suggest about me?" Reid raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Has the great Reid overlooked the fact that I'm a fellow profiler, who just-so-happens to specialise in the field of linguistic analysis?" Emily smirked in a cavalier fashion, pulling his footsteps to a grinding stand.
"Are you mocking me too?" Reid cringed in confusion. He wasn't even sure if his remark was serious. To him, it had meant to be a casual and passing statement, but somehow or rather, he felt a chink deep inside that told him otherwise. Maybe it was because he never had the impression that Emily would explicitly ridicule him. He had doubts about that theory, since she wasn't exactly mocking him. He often wondered why he would have the urge to rebut Emily whenever she made a humorous comment on him, despite the fact that he had never brought himself to actually voice them out. Maybe it was the fact that she'd never treated him like an adolescent, or maybe it wasn't.
"Reid, I- I'm sorry, it was meant to be a joke. Are- are you mad at me?" Emily's face turned the colour of ash, wishing she had thought twice about passing one of her smart remarks. She never had the intention of hurting him, not based on the stereotypical assumption that he was as fragile as a child, but because she cared about what he thought.
"Mad? Mad about what? I think I should apologise. I overreacted a little. I guess I'm just a little naive, huh? I'm s-"
"No, you're not naïve. At least I've never thought so. Everyone handles their own emotions differently. Just because you care about things that others don't regard, doesn't indicate that you're a child. That's just- You know what? If you can relate to the poem, it tells me that you see the details in things, and that you've learnt to appreciate the seemingly minute tasks in life, and you long for the day that you feel accepted wholly by your peers. At the same time, from what you said about your personal life, and correlating it to the poem, I'm not sure if you want a love life. You've got a crush, to put it crudely. Is that accurate enough?" Emily sighed heavily.
"I wish it wasn't." Reid gave out a strangled laugh. "I do want a more substantial personal life, and all my life, I've come to handle the devastation of rejection, though I'm not so sure I'll be able to manoeuvre my way out of this one, if I screw up."
"Well, give it a shot. You're one of the nicest men I know. If not, the nicest man I know. You're chivalrous, you're kind, you're polite, you're a genius, and amongst all of that, you're faithful, and sweet. I don't think any girl would be able to turn you down, if only she knew all of those things." Emily patted Reid's back, with a settling smile.
"You mean it?" Reid asked forlornly. She nodded, much to his astonishment. "I- I'm just afraid she's taken." He replied with a disappointed half-smile.
She shared his despondence. "Is she taken, or are you afraid she is?"
"The latter, pretty much."
"You wouldn't know until you give it a try. Sometimes, you've just got to throw caution in the wind, and dive into it. You've told me once, that someone who isn't afraid to deride their own mistakes will never have to be embarrassed by them. If it doesn't work out, then, you've learnt something. But you do get the satisfaction, knowing that you've tried, at the very minimum." Emily stared into his hazel eyes, which seemed to have glistened under the golden streetlamps, and she could not abstain from grinning as she witnessed him regaining confidence. "Come on, let's get out of here. It's a little chilly." With that, she continued advancing towards the shelter, away from the open airstrip.
"Emily?" Reid grabbed her hand, and held her back. She was staggered by his sudden contact, as she glanced upon their locked hands. For several tense seconds, none of them spoke. He was distraught, wondering if he pushed it too far. He was not aware of why he had done what he did, but a strange inclination within himself drove him to take the step. I think I love her. His heart felt as if it was in his mouth; feeling every beat pounding against his eardrum. Prior to his sudden action, the fact that he could have lost one of his only friends was at the back of his mind. No, what have I done? No.
For the exact period of time, Emily couldn't take her eyes off their hands. She too, was aghast. The question remained in her head: do I like him back? Of all the things she had said about him, of all the times she had thought about him, and of all the times that they had spent together, what if she did have feelings for him? Did she? She felt her pulse racing, and their clasped hands were getting wetter with each passing moment. Was she the one sweating, or was he? She tried to speak, but what could she have possibly said? She had told him to dive into it, and to throw caution into the wind, but was she ready to do it as well?
"Emily, I-" He finally spoke, fixating his eyes on hers. "I'm so sorry- I shouldn't have done this. I'm so sorry- I" He let go of his grip. His eyes dropped to the ground, crestfallen, and in remorse of what he had done. Emily stood in the cool of the howling wind, wondering what she could do.
"No-" She managed to croak. She took his hand, and titled his cheek, to the point where their eyes made contact again. She had things that were at the tip of her tongue, but nothing emerged from her mouth. Utterly speechless, she smiled gently, and embraced the tall figure. He held her tightly against his chest, his mind still running a marathon. He did not have a clue what it meant. He was certain, however, he did not want to let her go. For a brief moment in his life, he felt like a real man, and all he had wanted to do was keep the woman he fell in love with safe, despite not knowing how he could accomplish it.
She broke away slowly, reeling from the foreign consolation that he had brought her. She stared deeply into the striking eyes she had come to admire greatly. She brushed her palm against his soft cheeks, tucking a loose cluster of his hair behind his left ear.
"I know I don't deserve you, and I don't want you to do this because you're afraid to say no, Emily. I don't want to force you into anything, and I want you to know, that, I'm happy if you're happy. We don't have to, just because of me-" Reid mumbled, admiring her luscious raven hair. Even if she said no, he knew that he would still be content to be her friend. Emily's hand drifted to his thin magenta tie, and she closed the distance between them.
"Spencer. I think I love you." She managed to stutter. He was astounded. Despite being a genius, no book he had ever read had taught him how to deal with a situation like this one. Relaxing himself, he took a deep breath, and with their eyes still in a deadlock, he smiled quirkily, and rested his palms on the small of her back. His eyes mesmerised her, and hers captivated his. Pulling on his tie subtly, she brought his face inches away from hers. Her hands made their way to the hind of his neck, and stroked it. He closed his eyes, getting lost in her touch as the tips of their noses met delicately. She shut her eyelids, indulging and basking in his comfort. His right hand slid to the side of her cheek, and finally, she drew him to her. Their lips met delicately, both of them still in the midst of exploring each other under a different light. Reid tensed at the kiss, instantaneously submerging himself in a world he never knew existed. Emily was dizzy with a feeling she had never experienced over the course of her life. Butterflies fluttered about in her stomach; to the moment she was convinced that this moment was not a product of an overworked mind. Letting his libido take the front seat, Reid pulled her against him, craving something he had never knew he wanted. She complied exultantly, yearning for his touch that constantly sent her shivering with excitement.
Moments after their escapade, they mutually broke the kiss.
"Woah-" Reid managed to gasp.
"Likewise, Doctor Reid." Emily looked at him, stunned and thoroughly paralysed.
They smiled warmly at each other, both unsure of what to say.
"You know, uh- There's this nice diner near my apartment. It's open twenty-four seven, and they serve some mean milkshakes. Would you-" Emily laughed nervously.
"Yeah, you know uh- I love dairy."
"How would I forget? You keep a bottle of those over-the-counter calcium chewables on your desk." They laughed heartily, and Reid grabbed her palm in his hand.
"Is this going to be a- a date?" Reid giggled diffidently.
"I guess it is." With that, she interlocked their fingers, and squeezed his palm.
Reid brought Emily close, and couldn't help but wonder if the moment was real at all. "Our first date, huh?" Emily nodded, biting her lip in awe of the, albeit, eventful night. It was only the beginning.