If there was anything Miriam hated more than snow, it was the ice patch that made her bruise her ass. Worse, it was right before the entrance steps to the police station so she had the pleasure of strolling in there with damp khakis and a bruised elbow. Her laptop survived at least and she whipped it out when she spotted the chief at her desk.
"You're early," the dark haired woman swimming in paperwork behind the counter clipped.
Miriam typed away as she talked and seated herself in the spare chair without invitation. "I know. I know. I couldn't wait. Ortega, tell me we're not dealing with a serial killer. Tell me the over excitable idiots on the radio don't know what they're talking about."
"That's what you think? I was wondering why you didn't just send down one of your little interns to cover this. You got nothing to worry about. Even less to print."
Miriam's fingers hit save before she narrowed her gaze. "That's a very careful phrase, chief. Who fed it to you? The state? They trying to keep this low profile because of the type of killer? He narcissistic? Will media coverage only provoke him further? Or will it send him running before you can catch him?"
"Hell, M. You're too damn smart to be this far up my ass. If I promise to interview with you first after all this will you leave?"
"I'll even buy the drinks for the date. Thanks sugarplum." Miriam stood only to feel her stomach drop clean through the floor.
She recognized the spritely blonde in a ponytail strutting through the station. The open curtains of the chief's windows allowed her the perfect line of sight to see just how excellent her timing was. At JJ's back was Morgan with his signature leather jacket and overworn black jeans. And behind him came Hotch and Prentiss jostling a cuffed man between them who was bleeding through a bandage on his shoulder. Last was Reid. Reid with blood on his forehead and his eyes downcast on where his hands tied and untied knots with a hairband.
"Chief," Rossi stuck his head in the door to Miriam's back. She knew him and the others from passing, mostly from pictures Morgan sent and Reid used to have around the apartment. The Italian man was shorter than she imagined; it was probably the bulky boots she selected for the day that gave her additional height. "I know you wanted to be there," he continued. "But the moron jumped the kid. Thought him and that revolver would not be able to handle themselves but he's fine and the unsub is secured. You can question him first if you like. Whenever you're done here."
Rossi clapped the door frame, nodding to Miriam before tilting his head. "I know you from somewhere."
"I'm sure you do. Miriam here will hound just about anyone to get a good story," Chief Ortega input.
His fingers snapped as Rossi placed her face. "Morgan's Miriam. You used to play house with the doctor. Did you know we were here or something?"
There was something stuck in her throat, probably a log or her own damn foot. She could write for days on end, she could talk longer given the right topic, but when questioned about one Spencer Reid it seems the fifth was pleading her.
"Hey, Rossi, did I give you the keys? Hotch will kill me if I lose those again." Morgan was in the doorway. He forgot his question when he followed Rossi's line of site. "Hey there angel. And here I was planning to call you when all this was settled. Should've known you would be all over this."
There was a thud when she smacked into him for a hug. He laughed, shaking her whole body with the motion. "Missed you too."
"You fellows get lunch?" Ortega asked as she stood and tugged on her official brown jacket. "I'm messing. I know you didn't. Too busy doing my job. Some nice folks from the local church are making sandwiches for the whole department upstairs. Why don't you guys go grab some while I do my interview?"
"Even if that were a choice, I would opt for the sandwiches. I've had enough crazy on my plate today. You kids head up. I'll get the others," Rossi offered.
"How do you get more handsome every time, Derek?" Miriam demanded as they were left alone.
"Four months is too long and FaceTime doesn't do me justice. But you know all about that struggle." He tugged a loose lock of hair.
A swat of his chest accompanied with the roll of her eyes settled them back into their easy relationship. She took his arm, leading him upstairs to gain more mental preparedness time before she faced Reid. She absentmindedly told the church woman her order and accepted the food without checking the contents. Morgan pulled out folding chairs for them at the large round table and promptly inhaled his food.
"So is this normal avoid Reid or did something happen?"
"What could happen? We're four states apart."
He munched on his second sandwich with a raised eyebrow. The church woman scurried over with an extra one just for him and he threw her a wink. She blushed, touching his FBI jacket and fleeing back to her working station.
Miriam took a bite of her own, deciding an occupied mouth was harder for Morgan to interrogate. "She put ham on when I requested turkey."
"With Reid."
"I'm sure his sandwich will be fine. Eve has it out for me ever since I wrote that one minorly scathing article on her pastor husband."
Rossi entered dragging with him Hotch and Prentiss. The trio set to schmoozing Eve for the little chocolate mints she kept hidden in her purse.
"Miriam…"
"I have to go, but you should stop by before you head back. I miss you like crazy and my new roommate is crazy and it's always so fucking cold here and you're a really warm cuddler. My ass is still covered in melted ice and my feet hurt because of these damn shoes."
"And the band of your pants is elastic," Morgan added. "In spite of the heaters in here, you've kept on that incredibly bulky jacket. And you hate turkey, Mir. Four months?" he asked softly.
She set the sandwich down, head dipping in silent acknowledgement. "I have to go. I can't do this right now." She was hurrying from the room, down back hallways she knew led to the side exit.
Morgan caught up in a matter of feet and blocked her path with his body. "I'm not trying to push you..."
"Not that it's any of your damn business, but he texted me yesterday that he was in town, unlike you I might add. He didn't mention the case. I had no clue any of you would be here today. He is supposed to come over tonight and that's what I'm prepared for. Not right now. Not while we are both at work."
"I was gonna say I'm here for you whatever you decide."
She sagged forward against him. He draped his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug. "And just so we're clear, I'm the godfather."
The afternoon passed before she could convince her body a nap was a good idea. Coffee with the chief was not happening until the following morning, so she could only write up so much. Then pacing took over, then cooking something that somehow turned out grey in her pot, so the dishes had to be done. The clock told her Reid was late, her phone informed her that he had not even bothered to send an explanation.
It was only after she devoured half of a delivery pizza that her doorbell rang. She scowled at it and considered ditching him for the food altogether. Her phone rang in her lap. Spencer's name and the one good picture she ever managed to take of him lit it up. She tapped answer and used a sauce covered hand to raise it to her ear.
"I'm mad at you," she said.
"I fell asleep. I'm so incredibly sorry. I don't sleep when I'm in the middle of a case and I'm mad at you too. You were at the police station and did not even bother to say hello?"
She got up, striding over to the peephole so she could watch him. She got only the image of his pestering nose pressed against it. "Well you were covered in blood and seemed busy."
"It wasn't mine. And I would have welcomed the distraction."
She sighed, letting his sincere words smooth things over, and turned the lock. His hair was longer, she noted. That did not surprise her. The man could not go a month without completely remodeling the mass. He wore a wrinkled robe and a white t shirt with a drool stain on it. Unevenly rolled sweatpants topped off the look. He hung up, sliding the phone into his bag and leaning back on the heels of his socked feet.
"I'm only letting you in because you look like you have frostbite, doctor. You cannot go running around here half dressed in winter."
"It's still technically fall for three more days. Thought I was meeting your roommate." He strolled in, toeing off his damp socks and swallowing a moan at the sight of the pizza.
"Yeah, I was counting on the buffer too, but the punk is off with her family or something. She's always inconsiderate like this."
He dove into the pizza without an invitation and seated himself on the couch. She hesitated as memories of the last time they shared a sofa surfaced, but the hunger still raging in her gut won out. She draped her legs over his lap, lounging back against the pillows as she surveyed him. He was all gangly lines and loose attire—just like she remembered.
A personal heater kick started in her chest and she huffed in irritation. Somehow the time apart only made her fonder of him. Her hand settled on her stomach as she sought for the words that would either cement them or send him sprinting back to D.C.
"Did you know pizza was actually invented in Naples as a gift for the king and queen when they passed through? So we are literally eating royal food."
"Spencer…"
"What's wrong?" he demanded instantly.
"I have another roommate."
"Besides the worst one ever?"
"Well, that title officially goes to you, but yes."
"What's the name? Where are they tonight? And where do they sleep because there are only two rooms and this couch feels like it will result in severe back conditions."
"Well, Mabel, for a girl and I don't know for a boy. I thought you could choose that."
He set down his pizza, scooting closer with an amused smile laced with far too little confusion. "Are you talking about a baby?"
"You fucking liar! Did Derek tell you?"
"I swear that was more convincing in my mirror. He didn't tell me. He didn't have to. Mir, you think I could miss all the changes in you and your lifestyle?" His hand carded through her hair, landing with an affectionate squeeze to her chin.
"I drink one decaf coffee over FaceTime and you assume I'm pregnant?"
"No, but I know you too well to miss the signs."
"You ever gonna tell me?"
"Whenever you decided to tell me," he countered. His hand fell to her stomach, nudging up the hem of her shirt to graze his knuckles over the slightly rounded flesh. "Mabel?" he murmured.
"I'm hoping for a girl, in case you couldn't tell. Can't have a boy coming out with your stupid face." Said stupid face was lowering to plant a kiss to her abdomen.
"Genetics say that the chances of that depend whose genes are dominant. You're pretty bossy, so you may be in luck."
A chime came from his phone, drawing his focus away from her. He read the message with a frown. "I have to be up early tomorrow for the flight back. Any chance I can borrow some shoes so I can get back to the hotel?"
"And have your big ass feet stretch out my new pregnancy shoes? Not a chance."
He protested and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You'll stay here, doctor," she said.
"I know." He punctuated the infuriating statement by reattaching their lips.
They remained that way, exchanging sweet reminiscent kisses, all the way back to her bedroom. The door was kicked shut and his bag set on the dresser. She went to take off her jacket and he yawned into her mouth.
"Sorry I'm not stimulating enough, doctor." She shoved his chest and he stumbled back weakly to lay on her bed, knees bent over the edge.
"You know I want this, Mir. I want you and this baby, mostly you right now if I'm being honest." His tongue wet his lips. "But maybe with more than two hours of sleep to my name."
"No midnight store runs then?"
He caught her waist, pressing a kiss up to her chin. "Sleep." He pleaded with big shadowed eyes.
There was a breath, a timid smile, and love. "Sleep."
Only one more chapter and I'm very please with how this has all gone so far. Do you guys agree?