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Sleepover

Reid stood in the doorway staring at Rosa while she smirked at him. Finally, she said, "Hey… My ankle hurts. You gonna to come in or not?"

He blinked like a man coming out of a daze. "What happened?" He demanded.

"Come in and sit," she requested. "I'll tell you all about it."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, now shut the door and go sit."

He shut the door, but he didn't enter her living area despite its inviting décor. He liked the room warm with its hand woven rugs on the floor and colors in deep jewel tones that soothed his soul.

"Spencer."

He finally looked at her. She wore a white tank top and blue and white sleep pants. Her long, dark hair was piled on her head, and her feet were bare. Her face, even without makeup, was so beautiful it made his heart ache.

He decided to go to a very large, black leather recliner chair and curl up in it. She went to the matching sofa and sat awkwardly. Her crutches fell to the floor with a crash and he flinched.

"Sorry, I hate those damn things."

He found that he smiled against his will. "I understand better than you think."

She lifted her eyebrows. "I sense a story."

"Later. Tell me!"

"We got a rape and murder case three weeks ago. After several dead ends, we found the son of a bitch that did it and chased him down. He decided to go over a fence in an alleyway off seventh. I climbed over and when I dropped, I twisted my ankle. It's nothing serious. I just have to be on these damn crutches for the next couple of weeks. Nice timing, right?"

"I imagine that Lee didn't take kindly to your suspect trying to get away like that."

She smiled and his heart picked up speed. Her dark eyes were so deep, like the depths of a mountain cave, but warmer and kinder. The light in them changed with her mood, and one thing he knew, he didn't want them pointed at him when she was mad.

"Lee likes chasing the bad guys. I'll do it if I have to, but I'm better at solving the mystery that gets us to the chase. Lt. Riker says that's why we make a great team."

"You compliment each other."

"Yeah."

Reid sat up straight. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I told Lee I was okay, but she threatened me with the Lieutenant if I didn't go to the clinic."

"She was right."

"Look, I'm really tired. I know I promised we'd talk, but I just want to go to sleep."

"I think that's a good idea." He kicked off his shoes and removed his coat and scarf.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm staying with you."

"No!"

He stood up. "You might as well tell where I can find bedding for the couch. It's getting late."

"Spencer -"

He went to her and leaned down to look her right in the eyes. "I'm not leaving you here alone with a twisted ankle."

"I don't need -"

He put both hands on her shoulders as she tried to rise. "I told you I know what it's like to deal with crutches alone. You need help."

"I don't want you here," she hissed between her teeth. "You feel sorry for me."

"So, what if I do?" He shot back. "I'm staying right here on the couch, whether you like it or not."

They stared each other down and Reid almost smiled when she broke first. He'd once said that he was a blinker, not someone that could stare another down, like Hotch. Now, it appeared he did have the ability because she was looking at the wall instead of in his eyes.

"Fine," she said and gave him a wide, false smile. "There's extra sheets, a blanket and a pillow in my bedroom closet."

"I'll find it."

She grabbed her crutches. "I'm right behind you."

After he'd arranged his makeshift bed, he went back down the hall to her bedroom. He knocked on the open door. "Can I come in?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She sat with her back against some pillows. She had an old-fashioned sleigh bed that he liked. Its lines appealed to something inside him that he couldn't define.

"Something I can do for you?"

He looked up to see that she was studying him with eyes that weren't angry anymore. Instead, there was a bit of humor in them that made him stand up straight.

"I just wanted to know if you need anything."

"I'm fine."

He opened his mouth to ask Rosa about her apparent changes in moods, and then closed it because he remembered Emily telling him that pointing out mood swings to a woman could get him in a lot of trouble. Rosa was already angry with him, so he said good night and shut her door.

He went back to the living room and stared at the makeshift bed on the couch. It didn't appear comfortable. In fact, it looked like very cold and lonely despite the red, green and white pattern worked into the knitted throw over the back of the seat.

He went over to Rosa's tree instead, surveyed the colorful lights, and ornaments that hung on the green pine tree boughs. She'd wound a length of gold tinsel around it and there were silvery fake icicles to complete the look. There were several beautifully wrapped gifts on the table underneath the tree. A piece of white cotton with sparkles looked like a broad expanse of pure snow and there were little houses spread under the tree and interspersed with the gifts as though it were a real Santa's Village.

He went back to the couch, and pulled off his tie, and his socks. He pulled his shirt out of his slacks and lay down. He wished he'd brought his go bag.

Yeah, bringing that along for a talk would've sent the right message.

If she'd just told him about her ankle…

He pulled the blanket over his hips and lay back with his hands under his head. He stared at the ceiling and tried desperately not to think about his last visit here, just before being shot in Texas.

CMCMCMCMCM

Rosa flipped off her bedside light and tried to get comfortable. Her ankle ached despite the medicine they'd prescribed at the clinic. Why did it take pain medication so long to kick in? It was like some kind of cosmic joke.

She turned over on her right side to face the wall, and then turned again because that put her back to the door of her room, and Spencer was in the living room.

I wonder if he took off all his clothes.

Stop it.

Instead of stopping it, she sat up, turned on the light and reached for her crutches. It was ridiculous. She'd called him to talk because after she'd returned from the clinic, she'd realized that Lee was right. It galled her to admit that her partner was right even though she'd been feeling like a total bitch for treating Spencer so badly.

"I'm a coward," she said under her breath. "This is ridiculous."

She was halfway down the hall when she met Spencer coming from the other direction. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Can I talk to you?" They said at the same time.

He didn't ask and she didn't say no when he followed her back to her room and took off his shirt and slacks. She was in bed by the time he joined her. She put her head on his chest and let two tears slid out of her eyes.

"I'm an idiot," she said.

He stroked her with one of his long fingered hands. "No, you're not an idiot. You're someone that's entitled to her feelings."

"I don't know what to do. I love you, but I can't stand that you're on the other side of the country."

"I don't know if you believe me, but I feel the same. I hate that my job forces me to work out of Quantico. I've been thinking that I'm using my job to hide."

She sat up so she could look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"When I was talking to Maeve, I knew she was in danger. I could have stopped it."

"Spencer -"

"No, hear me out," he stopped her with a finger to her lips. "What if I didn't because if I did that meant we had to meet and then I'd have to have a real relationship? I never had one before I met her. What if I was a coward?"

"That's not true, Spencer."

"You don't see my clearly, Rosa. You love me."

"Yes, I do love you, but I also know that you didn't deliberately keep her in danger. You did what you thought was best. I thought you knew that. I thought you were working through you guilt."

"I was… I mean, I am. I just wonder if I'm using my job as a way to avoid an adult relationship with you."

She pushed her fingers through his hair, gently in a way that made him shiver. "You thrive on profiling psychos, Spencer. It's who you are. I love you for it."

"I don't know if I believe it," he said. "What if I'm so afraid to leave my comfort zone, I'm willing to let you pass me by?"

She sat up again. "Where's this coming from?"

He reached up to touch her hair again. "Sometimes it takes something extreme to make us see the world clearly. Ever since I got shot and came with in a millimeter of dying, I've been reevaluating my life. I don't know what I want anymore, except for you."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know. I think it's just the time of the year," he said sadly "We're gearing up for a New Year, and everyone thinks a New Year is a fresh start, a chance to change what's wrong in your life. It's why we make New Year's resolutions."

"I don't," she said with a grin that made him roll his eyes.

"Really?"

"Really. I think if something's that important to you, you don't wait until the New Year to do something about it. You change right then and there; otherwise, what's the point other than to do what everybody else is doing."

"That's not you," he pointed out.

"Neither is it you," she agreed.

"I don't know about that."

"I do, because if you believed in stagnating, you wouldn't have 3 PhD's and who knows how many other degrees."

He snorted out laughter. "I like the way you say that, as if you're fed up with my love of school, but I know better."

She poked him in the ribs, hard. "Boy, have I got you fooled."

"No," he reached over and shut off the lamp. "You don't have me fooled."

She hugged him tight. "What are we going to do, mi amor?"

He sighed. "I don't know, but I do know that I'm tired and I want to talk about this when I'm coherent."

"Go to sleep," she ordered quietly.

He closed his eyes, but despite his protests to the contrary, sleep was far from his sight, and his heart was far from calm.