9 Months

Chapter Two

Bad Awakening

-Month One, Day One-

Everything hurt. Most of all Spencer's head; he'd woken up from the throbbing pain. He felt like his brain would push through his skull and he didn't even dare to open his eyes to the sunlight he could see yellowy through his shut lids. So there was his first hangover. He swore this second he would never drink even an ounce of alcohol again, he'd never felt so sick in his life.

A quiet mourn left his mouth and he brought his hands up to his forehead, god, he was so uncomfortable. He didn't have the slightest idea how he'd got to his bed. After his second whiskey-coke, his memory blacked out, probably Derek had taken him. How embarrassing. He needed to call him to thank and to make sure he hadn't made a fool of himself. And why the hell was he naked, he thought in panic. Did Morgan...? No...he couldn't have. But he had never been a naked sleeper, anyway, he'd must've stripped down and fell asleep straight away. Last night had gotten severely out of hand and all because of this hell-breed Harper Hillman.

Even though he didn't want to, he slowly forced his eyes to open. The getting up was inevitable, he wasn't due to a special time in the office but he had to go there today, finishing his paper work he'd abandoned the night before. He just wondered how he would do that when he needed to got throw up all twenty minutes, it sure felt like he would be any second now.

He weakly sat up in bed and with the stream of air from the movement reaching his nostrils he noticed the different smell. It smelled sweaty, somewhat earthy, as in...human...sort of, he couldn't quiet tell what exactly it was but it surely stunk grossly of alcohol. It made him sick. He flung the blanket aside and with his hand pressed to his mouth he sprinted towards his rest room, emptying his stomach violently into the toilet seconds later. He'd never felt so miserable in his life, not even with his body cracking down with anthrax. This was so much worse. After about five minutes he was sure that there couldn't be anything more left inside of him to throw up and he flushed the mess away before rinsing his mouth in the sink and straight afterwards brushing his teeth twice. He looked horrible, the glimpse into his bathroom mirror told him that much. The dark shadows underneath his eyes looked even more zombie-like than usual, he was searching for a word for his state and came up with 'destroyed' when he saw a motion in the reflection that startled him.

There was someone in his bed!

He rushed around and stumbled into his bedroom more than alert. What the hell? How hadn't he noticed before? How the hell get someone else get into his bed? And more importantly; who was it?

He froze on the spot when he noticed. This couldn't be real, this just couldn't be happening!? There had to be a logical explanation for what he saw. No, it just had to be another nightmare, the most frightening one yet.

In his bed, wrapped in his sheets, lay peacefully asleep Harper Hillman. And she was naked. And he was naked. When he processed that fact, he frantically grabbed his boxers nearby and put them on at inhuman speed. There was no way she was ever going to see him naked again, once in High School was more than enough. Then his oh so smart brain did the obvious of calculation; she probably would have already seen him – the twenty-seven-year-old-version of him – naked the night before. And what was even worse: they had both been naked. In his bed. He didn't need an IQ of 187 to do the math. And now he could tell perfectly, what it smelled like in his room, beside alcohol; it smelled...for crying out loud...his bedroom smelled like sex. No, no, no. But that was impossible. They had not. He had not, he wouldn't have. Spencer Reid never had one-night stands. Spencer Reid didn't have any sex at all for a start. He didn't even know how it worked properly. He wouldn't just jump to bed with someone he barely knew and definitely not if that someone was Harper Hillman!

She turned around again, making his heart stop beating with fear for an alarming amount of time; she would wake up any second. And when she was awake he would have to talk to her, he thought, panicking even more. He would have to talk about what happened, well, first he needed to make sure that what he dreaded to have happened had in fact happened for real. Was there only the slightest chance that they'd just gotten naked and fallen asleep? All innocently? How would that even have worked? He couldn't remember a thing of what they might've done, given that he was in any state, both motorically – drunk as he'd been – and experience-wise capable(which he was as low on as one man could be). For a split second he felt even more embarrassed just imagining how pathetic he must've seemed to her, not knowing where to put his hands, with no idea whatsoever what women liked in...in bed. God, no, she'd probably laughed at him. That was the only reason he could be glad not remembering a thing; it meant he also didn't have to remember the abasement.

Her lids fluttered a couple times now, her face momentarily changing from peaceful to twitched and she let out a moan very much alike Spencer's when he got up. He stood at the end of the bed absolutely petrified, unable to move one limb. She was waking up and there was nothing to do to stop it.

She finally opened her eyes and the same moment noticed Spencer standing there like a marble sculpture.

He wasn't even breathing anymore, as she rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, tilting her head as if him in that weird-statue-state was just a vision that would disappear with the sleep from her eyes. He didn't and then, of all possible reactions in that moment, she chuckled. Spencer's jaw fell from pure shock. How could she be laughing now, when she just made him make the biggest mistake in his entire life? Was she making fun of him? Was she...was she laughing about something that happened the night before? He felt what was left of his pride fall to pieces inside of him.

"You look like those people that got surprised by the lava in Pompeii, preserved for ever in their horror facing death, believe me you totally look like that", she said suddenly, the sound of her bell-like little girlish chuckle making him jump as she sat up in bed as if it wasn't absolutely repulsing and wrong that she was even here. Naked. She noticed the exact same second that Spencer stared at her full, round, perfect and pale breasts, that the sheet had dropped from her upper body by her movement. She blushed and covered herself again. Yet, her softly rosy cheeks didn't compare to Spencer's crimson red face. His hand had hit his eyes reflexively, just when he realized he was gawping at her chest and he buried his head in shame. He hated her even more now for doing this to him. Being tied to a flag-post had nothing on this. It was awful.

"What happened?", Spencer asked in terror, too afraid to look at her but slowly removing his hands from his forehead.

"You don't remember?", she asked and her light expression vanished at the sight of his twisted features when he made himself look at her again. A small crack went through the happy mask that was her face and another high, nervous giggle followed to cover it up.

"I don't remember anything", Spencer admitted, alternately looking at her and gasping out of the window, his stomach rumbled again. He just might needed to vomit, but not because of the hangover this time. He groaned, loud noise of displeasure, saying more than a thousand spoken words, expressing how wrong this was, how inconvenient, how embarrassing and how much he despised it.

Harper suddenly looked very tiny and the crack on her face deepened, slowly tearing her gaily, naïve expression apart and making it an insecure, baffled one. She started to look...hurt.

"Can you please tell me what happened?", Spencer demanded, his voice gaining an edge with every word, his choked anger coming through. Why did she look at him like he was the bad guy? Didn't she even think about what she'd done to him.

"We...well...we", she stuttered in instant reply, "we had a couple of drinks and...well...sort of...one thing let to the other...I didn't think you would be so...disgusted" The cover-up giggle sounded unconvincing and so sad it had almost made Spencer ashamed to have caused it, if he hadn't been so angry.

She'd read his face absolutely right, though, he was disgusted...with her, with the fact that they'd had sex, but even more with himself. How could he have been drunk enough to even touch someone like her. Someone who'd hurt him so bad. Wasn't it only fair now, that she was irritated? That she probably thought he'd used her? Wasn't this the Karma-thing he'd wanted for her? He was right to be furious and she had no right to make him feel bad about it.

"I...I need to go to work, I'll let you get dressed", he said coldly, with a certainty uncommon to him. He didn't look at her again as he fled from the room and from her, with her puppy eyes and that freaking, dumbstruck, distressed expression. He locked himself in the kitchen, leaning against the door with his hands clasped over his face again. He couldn't think straight.

He heard her hurry into her clothes and then out of the door. He was being an asshole, he was well aware of that but he couldn't change it. He'd never thought he would ever – ever – be in a situation like this and if had been any other woman there in his bed, he'd been nice, he'd made coffee and thanked her on his knees for noticing him, for giving him the time of day...or night, depending how you considered it. But not with this woman. It was a frightening fact that she should be his first one-night-stand ever and he felt dirty and nasty enough, he never wanted to have another one.

Whatever had gotten over him that night, it hadn't been healthy. In his right mind, Spencer would have never taken a girl home like that and not Harper Hillman, even if she'd been the last woman on earth. In a normal scenario, if you could dare to call it 'normal' when Spencer had sex with a girl for once in about a decade, he would have been sad about the fact that he couldn't recall one second of it. With the things being what they were, though, he was glad about it.

He wondered how she'd got him to do it. Surely he wouldn't have done anything to lure her to bed, not in a thousand years. He didn't know that he was easy to seduce. He swore not be any more.

When he arrived at the BAU headquarters in Quantico later, after a long shower, he was welcomed by a chuckling Derek Morgan. His cheeks turned a flushing red when he realized a confrontation was inevitable.

"Someone got lucky tonight", Morgan announced semi-loud and some heads turned, "wow, kid, you never struck me as the pick-up-artist you are...charmed that pretty girl right home with you"

"Shut up", Spencer squealed and then he paused, "wait...what? I charmed her?"

"You don't remember?", he heard for the second time of the day and Morgan laughed even harder, "wow, we didn't realize you were that drunk. Kid, halfway through the evening you started magic tricks on her and it worked, she was totally into you...when we were leaving you said you wanted to show her something back at your place and the rest...well, I was not around for the rest gladly"

Spencer didn't say anything, he just studied his shoes, his mind running, so he had seduced her? How in hell? How could he have been so drunk? Had someone replaced good, well-behaved Spencer Reid with a charmer and tricker?

"My god, kid, you really don't remember?", Morgan said finally his voice of one shade richer; pity, "You can't recall what you two did afterwards?" He was being nosy, of course.

"She said...heavens...she said that one...that one thing let to the other", Spencer moaned painfully to the ground and threw his hands on top of his face to hide his blushing. This was so uncomfortable. If, again, in any 'normal' imaginable scenario he'd have sex with a woman he sure wouldn't be telling Morgan but things were different, so he had to tell him. He had to understand.

"What are you so upset about, then kid?", Morgan asked baffled, he really couldn't see it.

"She...I...I know her from school", Spencer said, still not looking at his colleague who was under the weird impression, Spencer had achieved something by sleeping with her.

"She told us that", Derek said.

"No, you don't understand", Spencer said and looked up, "I know her from High School, don't you see? When I told you about Alexa Lisbon and the football-team and the flag post?"

Morgans features darkened when he recalled the story and the details came back to him but Spencer continued nevertheless.

"She's Harper Hillman, the girl that sent me right into their arms, the girl that walked up to me in the library"

"Oh kid", Morgan said after a while, the tone of his voice indicating he remembered the story now, "I'm sorry, I didn't...make the connection...I-"

"It's fine", Spencer said, "just...please just don't mention this to anybody, if Emily or Penelope ask...just say me and Harper went our different ways...despite what...what I...wanted to show her...uh...they don't need to know who she is"

Morgan nodded and Spencer knew his secret was safe with him.

He just wanted to forget about it, he wanted to go back to the Spencer Reid he knew, the one that didn't get drunk and have sex with women he picked up at a bar. That had been an episode displaying a very unlike version of himself he never wanted to be seen in public or private again. All he wanted was to forget about it, to never have to remember it again.

If life only was that easy.