Wow, it's been a long time since I've gotten anything posted on here and I've missed it, let me tell you! This story has a different CM pairing then I've worked with before, but I like the idea of the two of them together. I should probably credit mabelreid with putting the idea of them as a couple in my head, because I haven't been able to get it back out of there since the first time she mentioned it. Anyway, you can be the judge of how you think it worked out, I'd love to hear what you think! And, as always, I don't own the show or the characters I'm just a fan with CM on the brain 24/7!)
The Cure for Insomnia
The night was dark and still; the only sounds the light chirping of crickets that could be heard distantly through the window glass and the hum of the refrigerator in the other room. It was a peaceful winter night, complete with snow draping a light blanket of white over the small sliver of yard outside her apartment building and the strangely pretty crystals of frost beginning to decorate the edges of her windows as the night wore on.
It was calm and restful tonight – a word she couldn't often use for her surroundings – but for whatever reason, sleep still eluded Emily Prentiss as she tried curling up on her side, then flopping over to lie flat on her back, then over to the other side, all to no avail. Her mind simply wouldn't shut off and let her rest.
Emily didn't really want to consider the cause of her restlessness, even as she admitted to herself that she knew exactly what it was. And with a disgruntled, resigned sigh she flung the covers off and sat up. Her graceful feet sought over the floor for just a minute until they felt and slid into the navy house slippers she'd left there hours before.
This was ridiculous! It was the middle of the night, or very early morning, depending on how you looked at it, and there was nothing she could do about the situation at this hour. She needed to rest, to recharge her mind and her body for whatever evil psycho they'd no doubt start chasing tomorrow. But something more than even her need to sleep and forget wouldn't let her be.
She had made herself a promise – that this year would be different. This year, she'd told herself she would take action and change things if she could. And generally when she set herself a goal, Emily Prentiss intended to meet it. Yet, it was almost a month after Valentine's Day, which had been her admittedly clichéd deadline for herself, and another year had come and gone with her failing to do what she'd meant to.
Granted, she knew that her job, though she loved it and was greatly fulfilled by it, was part of her problem. Reaching the BAU had been a professional dream of hers and she was proud of the accomplishment. But it rankled her to know that she'd gotten nowhere closer to achieving her personal hope as well.
Put bluntly, she was tired of being alone. She hated coming home to an always-empty apartment. No one to greet her and ask her about her day, to talk out her fear and her doubts and her problems with, to drive away the nightmarish things she'd seen with kisses and assurances, to cuddle with her one the couch and discuss Orwell or Vonnegut novels or watch a marathon of fantasy/sci-fi movies with her until the horrors of the real world were drowned out and they'd defeated their mutual insomnia together. All those things had been so easily imagined in the boyfriend she'd planned to meet someday – but now, years later as she'd reached right where she wanted to be in life and he still hadn't appeared, she wondered if she had waited too long.
Well, she conceded, running a brush through her dark hair and capturing it in a ponytail as she shuffled out to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. It wasn't so much that he hadn't appeared. It was that she thought he finally had and she didn't know how to handle it…
Oh, if the team could read her mind… Morgan would have a field day! And JJ and Garcia wouldn't be much better. But Reid, with those big, expressive, mocha-colored eyes would simply see right through her. And though he was too kind to mock her and too awkward to tease her, it might be worse having him read the feelings that were churning inside her.
She was afraid that she was falling in love with Spencer Reid, hopelessly and pathetically – and like the true fool she had always known that she was, she couldn't decide if she wanted him to know or prayed he would never find out her secret.
She'd told herself to tell him. To just catch him in the break room over coffee, or as they were leaving the BAU for the night, riding down in the elevator together, and simply fess up, ask him out, and for once not find herself alone again at the end of the day.
But instead, she'd kept to herself and probably even avoided the poor guy, and made him wonder how he had irritated her when he hadn't done anything at all other than make her want to grab the front of one of his awful-looking sweater vests and haul him close enough to kiss him senseless. She wanted so badly to taste that mouth of is that quirked up bemusedly as it spilled out facts and theories. She wanted to so much sometimes that she couldn't look at him directly when he talked, for fear she'd no longer be able to think straight.
She might seem unruffled, pulled together, and blessed with nerves of steel. But she knew deep down that she was completely terrified of making an idiot of herself; of losing this place on this team and with these people, where she finally felt she was beginning to fit, and she could hardly bear the thought of scaring away the first person she had ever felt might actually understand her.
Emily had grown up rich and privileged, and she might have known how to go after what she wanted until she got it, but she had never completely found it possible to open up and express her feelings; to connect easily with other people. She'd never had many friends or dated much either. And though she'd wanted that, until now she had focused her energy elsewhere and told herself that when the time was right, things would be different – better – with the right man, things would fall into place.
A suitemate in college had told her once that it wasn't that she was unattractive, but more that she wasn't the kind of pretty guys were used to wanting. She was a classic beauty; speaking of elegance, poise and principles. She was at once both dark and pale, but it seemed more like the cold marble of a flawless statue you'd admire than that of a warm body to desire to hold and touch. At the time, she'd thought her classmate was just being dramatic – she was an art and theater major after all. But as years had gone by, those words had often come back to haunt her, and she wondered if that girl hadn't been right after all. She kept people at arm's length out of habit, without even meaning to, and maybe she was too cold or too awkward to ever find love for herself.
She hoped not, but it seemed clearer to by now that her track record in this area spoke for itself. What she'd once told Morgan, though she had tried to mask it in jest, had been her absolute honest belief about herself. No matter how hard she tried, eventually her hopeless geek core showed through, and she was either too brash, or too nervous, or too driven, or any number of other things, and scared people away.
With a heavy sigh of frustration, she pushed away from the kitchen counter and filled the first mug of what she knew would be many helpings of coffee. This that she'd made here would at least have a decent flavor and she could add some milk and chocolate syrup to it – a definite step up from the black sludge they were all continually swilling at the office.
Cradling her drink warmly in both hands, she then shuffled blearily on into her living room to the squat, cushy chair by her window, and sat, curling her legs up beneath her to watch the snow falling in the dark. She wanted to call Reid, she really did. It just seemed to her like he wasn't going to leave her head until she found out he could feel the same way she did, once and for all. Something told her, like one of those hunches she normally didn't put much stock in, that he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight either.
It was just then, as she sat torn between calling and not calling, that the phone that sat on the end table just to the right of her began to ring. Knowing that since it wasn't her cell it wasn't work, and the hour of morning it was, she usually would have ignored it. But the same voice that had been trying to make her call Spencer since she'd gotten out of bed, made her pick up now, thinking, 'What if it's him, and you don't answer?'
"Hello, Emily Prentiss speaking," she answered, hoping she didn't sound as curious, anxious, or hopeful as she felt. Her heart was pounding hard enough to feel like it was trying to escape up out of her throat, and for some reason her palms were sweating and her breath felt faint. Why in the world was she being this way? There was no particular reason to think it would be him calling her.
"Um…Emily?" Reid's voice came over the line sounding quietly hesitant and edgy. As if he really hoped it was her, but was almost afraid for it to be. Like he was wondering if he should have called or not. She admittedly loved the little bit of raw, squeaky concern that crept into his voice when he was excited or nervous or concerned. So many men tried to play it so tough and nonchalant. She loved that Reid was honest and open, that his emotions were closer to the surface, and that he didn't seem to see any need to hide them.
"Reid?" she asked, her curiosity definitely piqued now, and her senses jangling from every ending along her skin.
"Yeah, it's me," he offered, rather needlessly, but she could almost see him in her mind's eye, fidgeting as he tried to figure out how to begin with what he wanted to say. "Um, it's just…well, I wasn't sleeping, and I didn't know…I mean…the last case was pretty bad, and…I wondered if you were awake too. I'm sorry if I woke you. In fact, never mind, I'll just see you at work tomorrow, okay? Bye!"
"Reid, wait!" she spit out quickly, trying to catch him before he could hang up, a smile spreading easily over her face. "Stop, slow down, you're not bothering me at all. I'm sitting in my living room starting in on the coffee because I haven't gotten so much as a wink of sleep either. I'm glad to hear someone's voice," she tacked on at the end sheepishly. "It's nice; to know it isn't just me awake and alone."
Reid was silent, but she could almost hear his nod of agreement, so sure was her sense of his emotions by this point. She'd been surreptitiously studying him for months now, falling in deeper and hoping no one would notice. She couldn't help watching him; he really was entrancing, without even knowing it – his tics and fidgets only making him more endearing to her.
He still hadn't offered to say anything else, and so, heart in hand and a cold, hard lump of fear in her throat, Emily finally forced herself into action and went out on her own personal limb, hoping it wouldn't break underneath her. "Reid," she licked her lips, unconsciously crossing her fingers as she plowed ahead, "Did you want some company?"
She could hear a soft thump on the other end of the line, making her wonder if he'd been pacing and then flopped into a chair, or if he'd been going to sit down anyway, and, startled by her question, had missed his seat and landed on the floor.
He recovered himself quickly, stuttering out a response that sounded enthusiastic enough to make her release the breath she'd been holding in suspense and fear. "Yeah, well…I wasn't expecting, but…um…that would be fine. I'd- I'd enjoy that."
"Okay, then," she answered encouragingly. "Your place or mine?" And then she blushed furiously, realizing how flirtatious it had come out sounding.
To her utter astonishment, Reid lobbed a sly comment right back at her, without even hesitating. "Why Agent Prentiss," he drawled, "are you propositioning me?"
She couldn't do anything but laugh at her own blunder and at his playfulness. Her heart fluttered with pleasure at their unexpected banter, basking in his attention. "Well, I was about to put in a movie, and I've got coffee, maybe you should come over here and find out for yourself," she challenged.
This time, he chuckled, and it was a gratifying sound, knowing she was the one who'd made him laugh. She didn't get to see him that comfortable very often, and certainly didn't get to see him laugh or smile much in their line of work either. "I guess I'll have to," was his response. "Give me fifteen minutes."
"I'll be here," she said, a smile breaking across her face that felt bigger than any she had worn in months, as she hung up the phone. Drawing in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and called up the strongest will she had. He'd be here soon – it was now or never…
888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Emly tried not to start actually humming happily as she dashed around the house making sure she had another clean mug for Reid's coffee, some snacks and breakfast food, and that the temperature in the house was alright, and deciding which movie she wanted to have out for them to watch. She'd glanced in the mirror for a moment to check how she looked, but then abandoned it, deciding that it was nearly 3 a.m. and she was in her pajamas. It was Reid; if he was coming over and he truly did like her, than by now it was for more than how she looked anyway.
Before she knew it, the doorbell was ringing and she was forcing herself not to run through the entryway in her anxiousness to see him. Little butterflies were fluttering their wings all around in her stomach, and she tried to smooth down her flannel, button-down pajama top over the matching pants, praying she didn't look as ridiculous or exhilarated as she felt she did.
Taking one last deep breath, Emily pulled the door open and look up into Spencer Reid's gorgeous, familiar face – a face that she knew she had grown to love in a way she had never felt about anyone else in her whole life. And when their eyes met just then – whether it was her sleep-deprived state or crazy hormones or seeing him there in the dark starlight on her doorstep – Emily found herself stunned, frozen in place, just staring at him; dazzled.
For a long moment, neither of them moved or said anything. Then, she was jerked from the reverie she'd entered by Reid clearing his throat nervously and playfully attempting a joke. "Well, are you going to let me in, or have you changed your mind?" His grin was just impish enough that she had the horrible feeling that maybe he really could read either her mind or her heart one. But she quickly tried to shake it off and stepped aside to let him in.
"Not a chance," she said simply. "Come on in." She realized that in this area she had no polish or practice at all and she was just going to go with honesty. She could easily be more awkward than even Reid ever would be. And when he passed by her coming in, she caught a warm, spicy scent that must be his cologne, and it was all she could do not to take hold of his arm, press her nose into the rough material of his corduroy blazer and lay her head on his shoulder, breathing him in.
'Yeah, Em,' she thought to herself. 'It's definitely been too long since you last had a date.' She chided herself, realizing how desperate her impulse would seem.
Closing the door behind him, she turned to lead him through the entryway to the living room, knowing as he didn't move forward without her, that since he'd never been inside her apartment before he didn't feel comfortable just plowing right into her personal space on his own. He glanced down at her from his taller height, a calming, gentle smile gracing his face; one that was so beautiful that Emily felt it ought to be preserved somehow and pressed between the pages of an album, so that she could look at it whenever she needed to.
"I didn't know this was a pajama party," he teased good-naturedly. "I feel a tad overdressed."
She smiled back at him, actually biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out what first flew into her mind, that she could easily take care of that problem for him. Instead, she shrugged at him sheepishly and offered, "Well, I figured it technically still is the middle of the night, and just because I can't sleep doesn't mean I can't be comfortable. Besides, you look more casual than usual. I don't think I've ever seen you in jeans. It's a nice look." She hoped he knew she meant it as a compliment and wasn't taking a pot shot at his normal style of dress. It didn't matter to her one bit what he wore – or didn't wear, her mind added. But he looked sexy tonight, and much more carefree and his own age in the looser fitting jeans and T-shirt he'd put on with his blazer. Scuffed white Adidas accompanied the look and she had to smile again, her heart warming. She suddenly knew with absolute certainty that he had tried very hard to dress for this, for her, and she was both touched and terrified by what that could mean.
"I'm assuming you'd like some coffee," she offered. Reid's affinity for his liquid caffeine fix was rather legendary to the members of his team.
"Yeah," he nodded, acknowledging her statement, a smirk quirking one side of his mouth up. "That would be great."
"Go ahead and have a seat in there on the couch and I'll bring it to you," she offered, motioning him toward the living room.
She returned a minute later, two steaming mugs in hand and settled herself beside him, handing his over to him.
Reid took a sip and his eyes closed, savoring it on his tongue. "Mmmm, Emily, this is really good," his voice was more a hum of pleasure than anything else, like a cat's contented purring. A shiver ran through her at the timbre of his voice, knowing he didn't realize what he'd done to her with that lower tone and her name involved.
"Well, I try," she said, her voice humored as she gave him a smile and sipped her own coffee, thinking, 'Now's your chance, tell him,' but not being able to say anything more.
"So, what movie are we watching?" he asked her curiously, glancing over with a half-smile on his lips, making her want to grab him and lay a kiss on him all over again.
She stood up to grab the remote and turn on the movie she'd already inserted in the player. "I was thinking The Lord of the Rings," she said, just barely masking her giddy fangirl glee as she did. She loved the entire movie trilogy and all of Tolkien's written works.
"Are we starting with The Fellowship?" was his only question, and – if possible – she fell for him even more that he didn't groan about it, or make any nerd comments, and that he knew the title and seemed to want to start at the beginning and watch them all with her.
"Well, of course," she replied in a 'what-other-way-could-you-watch-them?' tone of voice.
Soon, they both fell silent as Galadriel's lilting voice intro began and they were both sucked into the story all over again. Neither said a word for quite some time, though Emily was very aware of the warmth of his leg pressed up along hers as they sat side-by-side, and how easy it would be to get curled up more comfortably against Reid and lay her head over to rest on his shoulder. Just a couple of inches and a little more courage…
The movie reached the point where Aragorn and Arwen are saying their goodbyes in Rivendell and pledging their love before he leaves on the Quest. As Arwen placed the Evenstar necklace in her beloved's hand and closed his fingers over it, Emily couldn't help her eyes ghosting over to look at Spencer.
She jumped, surprised and embarrassed, to find that he had looked right over at her at the same moment. Their gazes met and locked, neither could look away though they were both blushing like ripe tomatoes and wanted badly for the couch to open and swallow them whole.
"I was just going to see-" she started just as he stammered out
"Isn't this the part where-"
They both stopped, Emily letting out a nervous giggle, and then suddenly, it was like she couldn't hold back any longer. Without letting another minute pass, or even thinking or talking herself out of it again, she acted. Leaning forward, she put both hands on Reid's shoulders, pulling; him towards her hungrily and – knocked her forehead hard, right into his.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, pulling back, hand to her head, and heard him wince as well, only doubling the mortification at that moment. She rocked back away from him, sitting down again, and foolishly felt tears start in the corners of her eyes. It was just never going to happen. She couldn't even do something as simple as giving him a kiss without completely making an idiot of herself.
"Reid, I'm sorry! Are you okay?" she whispered, completely unable to raise her eyes to look him in the face. She couldn't bear to meet his gaze right now, who knew what he must be thinking of her. Could she have been any more ridiculous?
But to her astonishment, it was then that she felt one of his long, graceful fingers gently touching her chin, tilting her face back up so he could peer concernedly into her eyes, his stunning orbs flooring her with the care she saw in them. "Emily," his voice was quiet, but each word was meant emphatically, "don't cry. Please? I do things like that all the time. I'm fine. In fact, I'm great. It's certainly not every day that the most incredible woman I know flings herself on me. At least you're braver than I am. I've wanted to kiss you for ages, and didn't think you would want me to and didn't know how to go about it."
Blinking, she felt a smile coming back to her again. "Really?" she questioned, hardly able to believe it could be true. He did feel the same way, and she hadn't ruined everything.
"Really," he asserted, not taking his hand away from her face, but skimming it lightly over her skin to caress her cheek, slowly and more carefully than she had done, reeling their faces closer to each other. "So, why don't we try this again?" he murmured, voice dropping again and his eyes darkening with desire in a way she had never seen them look before. It was the surest and most confident she had ever seen him, oddly enough, which was not how she'd imagined him being in this sort of situation. But the way he'd suddenly turned the tables on her and taken control of the situation thrilled her.
He dipped his head in to meet her lips and as they finally made contact it sent shivers running all the way down to her fingertips and the tips of her toes. As he dived into the kiss with all the focus and excitement he gave any puzzle or curious subject she'd ever seen him latch onto, she felt his other hand come up to cradle her neck, teasing her pulse point. Then she felt his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth as he turned his body more fully toward her, pulling her closer and silently demanding her to part her lips. She couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her, feeling herself let go to a sort of pleasure she hadn't thought she could feel. She had a sense that they had connected suddenly, with a crash the equivalent of a brilliantly beautiful lightning flash or a fireworks explosion. Emily had never felt as close to anyone as she felt to Spencer just then in his arms.
Her reaction seemed to spur him on, as he was exploring, claiming, loving every bit of her mouth with his own, branding it as his with his very touch. His hands had begun to stroke reverently through her and skim under the collar of her pajama top to lightly brush her collarbones.
Panting, he finally did pull away, having to catch a breath, and rested his forehead against hers as he did so. She felt bonelessly unable to move even a centimeter from him, leaning into his body's warmth instead, like she'd wanted to do all night, wrapping her arms around him and whispering in a stunned voice, "Reid, wow…that was amazing."
"You do know how to stoke a guy's ego," he quipped, brushing a finger lightly down the side of her face. He laughed again, pulling her even closer as he wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her to him. Sinking back into the couch to calm down a bit, he let her cuddle up next to him, wrapping her in an embrace that she didn't feel rushed to pull away from, or worried that she might seem too needy or desperate or clingy or weak, she only felt comfortable and at peace at last, like this adoring, wonderful man might actually want to hold her for as long as she needed him to.
Letting out a deep, contented sigh, she gently stroked his arm, wondering at the fact that now she could touch him as much as she wanted. They both seemed to settle in then to watch the rest of the movie together.
A good hour or more later, when the credits rolled across the screen, and he glanced down to look at Emily, Spencer Reid saw that she had fallen asleep there against him, looking more beautiful at ease in her pajamas and a loose, messy ponytail, with her face smooth and untroubled in sleep, than he'd ever seen her before. And smiling happily, he thought to himself that maybe they'd both finally found what they'd been searching for and needing for so long.
Softly, as if it were the finest silk, he sifted a hand through her hair and decided they could both just stay right where they were a little longer. Aiming the remote at the DVD player, he switched the disc over to "Two Towers" and placed and gentle kiss to Emily's forehead. He leaned his head back to rest against the couch cushions and noted that he was for once grateful for his rampant insomnia, seeing how this long night had ended up.
And somewhere in a deep and restful sleep, Emily was thinking the very same thing.
THE END