Author's note: Hi everyone! I know I promised to (sporadically) update this story, but life's gotten peculiarly busy for me of late, and I'm happy to be back to post this one. This takes place after the events of (Season 4, Episode 3) Minimal Loss, where Reid and Prentiss go undercover to investigate a cult. I hope this makes it in time for your holidays! Have a safe and joyful holiday, and thank you for the reviews and follows! See you soon, and I hope you enjoy this one!

4:

"What Cyrus did to me is not your fault. It was my decision, and I would do it again. Do you hear me?" Emily's voice reverberated in his head as Reid tossed about in his sleep. He gasped, as he lurched awake. He sat upright, leaning his tired body against his headboard, the slicing pain on his abdomen being a reminder of the recent event in Colorado. He couldn't help but think about her well being; still feeling penitent that she got hurt to protect him. Shifting his eyes to his bedside clock, he fell back into his pillow upon realisation that it was merely the wee hours in the morning.

The alarm clock rang incessantly, vibrating madly against the bedside credenza. Ugh. Emily moaned in defeat, slamming her palm onto the raging device. Gaping at the ceiling, she felt the aftermath of the mission creeping up on her body. Her back was sore to the point where it hurt to turn herself; her head was spinning; and worst of all, she could feel the sagging of her cheek as it swelled, constraining her line of sight. Her fingers trailed it with caution, feeling the numbing sensation with the pulse of each touch, like a magnet against a bed of nails.

She eased herself upwards, shifting her weight to her feet, as she sat on the verge of her bed. A wave of drowsiness overcame her. Bringing her palms to her face, she steadied herself, as she gripped her phone. She never liked taking the day off; having the belief that she'd have to return to a mound of unfinished work the next. This time, she had to. Her body had been under enough strain.

Slowly, and surely, she dialled for Hotch. Tremors rang through the phone, until a loud beep succeeded.

"Hi, this is Aaron Hotchner, I can't come to the phone at the moment-" No answer; I guess he's busy, she thought as she hung up.

Running through the contacts list, she dialled for Rossi. The line was paging through, and midway, it dawned on her that the majority of the team had been invited to a seminar at Georgetown that afternoon.

Changing her approach, she dialled for Garcia: the one person she was sure would pick up.

"Penelope Garcia." Garcia greeted jubilantly.

"Hey, Garcia. You wouldn't happen to be with Hotch right now, would you?" Emily bit her lip gently.

"Nope-eys. I thought you guys left for Georgetown?"
"Nah, I'm not feeling that well. I couldn't get Hotch, so-"

"I see. Pretty beat up, huh?"

"Quite literally." Emily smiled, feeling a slashing pain in her cheek.

"As far as I know, boy genius was late this morning. Try him."

"Alright. Will do. Thanks Penelope." Emily grinned gently, trying not to aggravate her swelling bruise.

"You know what I'm here for. Get well soon, dear! I'll make sure to give you a surprise when you come in again. Incoming call… Must run. PG out."

The line went dead. Emily sighed, as she scrolled for Reid's contact. Swearing under her breath, she pressed the call button. He was the last person she wanted to call. She was sure he'd pin this on himself, especially after she assured him that she was fine just yesterday.

"Hello? Emily?" Reid picked up.

"Oh, uh-" She stammered, snapping out of her daze. "Reid. Great that you picked up." She forced out a laugh. "I was wondering if you could get the message to Hotch that I won't be in today?"

"Wh- why?" He paused, pulling his rustic car to the side of the road. "Are you alright?" His heart pumped faster, hoping that she was.

"I'm fine. I just need some rest. I'll be alright tomorrow."

"You just contradicted yourself. I'll get the message to Hotch for you, and I'll come right over." Reid mumbled, starting the engine again.

"You don't have to-" Emily said, reaching for her bottle of aspirin. She stretched her arm out to her beside table, and let out an audible whelp, feeling the lash of her nervy muscles.

"Emily? Are you all right? What's wrong?" Reid panicked.

"I'm-"

"Fine? I don't think so. I'm coming over. No arguments." Reid sighed in relief.

The line went dead again. Flicking her phone onto the bed, she took a pill with the bottle of water she left by her bedside, as she lay down again. Letting her inhibitions slow down, she let her thoughts put her to sleep. Why is he so nice to me? Probably because he feels guilty. Nothing more than that. Emily Prentiss, why would you even think that there's more? Do I hope for more? Just go to bed, damn it.

Just like the alarm clock, the sound of her doorbell blasted and bounced against each wall of her home, interrupting her slumber.

Groggily, she sidled off her bed, and dragged her haggard body to the door.

Reid waited patiently, conflicted whether or not he should ring the doorbell repeatedly. I wouldn't want to rush her; she must be feeling really terrible. Gosh-

His thoughts were abruptly put to a halt, as the door creaked open.

"Hey- uh, I brought you some stuff." Reid smiled as he gazed upon her. His heart ached as the contusions on her face became vivid to him. He wished he could have been the one to have them. He hated to know that she was in pain. Ever since Colorado, and perhaps before that, he had felt a connection to Emily… more than that of a colleague, more than that of a friend, and even more than that of a sibling. The feeling was foreign to him, though he would find himself in reveries, perhaps hoping that he could be more than all of that.

"Yeah, some stuff, huh? Come on in." Emily bore the pain, and winced a smile, as she held the door open for him. Reid stepped into her abode. He had never truly been in her home, though he had always perceived it to look like it did. He was cautious not to be invading her privacy; he knew she hated that. He set the various grocery bags on her kitchen counter, as Emily took a seat on the couch.

"Please tell me those aren't all for me." Emily shut her eyes.

"Well, they are. I figured that you'd skip lunch, so I wanted to make sure you couldn't. Hotch gave me the day off, since the rest of the team didn't really need my help at Georgetown." Reid shrugged, emptying the contents of the numerous bags into her fridge, and respective cabinets.

"You know, I'm alright. I just need some extra rest."

"It doesn't look like that to me." Reid frowned suggestively. Emily found it strangely attractive. Bossy Reid. That doesn't seem too bad, she thought, so she complied.

"Does chicken soup sound good?" Reid asked, pulling out a pot and stale spice cylinders from a drawer.

"More than it did five minutes ago." Emily mumbled, feeling her empty stomach churn.

"Great. Uh- why not, you take a nap, and I'll wake you up when it's ready?" Reid smiled in satisfaction, putting on an apron. He was glad that she didn't mind soup; he would've made her a sandwich, but with her facial bruising, it would have hurt to even smile, not to mention chew, and he could see it better than anyone else.

"I'm so ahead with you on that." Emily let out a pant, easing her body to lie on the couch. Clutching a pillow, she felt the prolonged effect of the aspirin, with her eyelids getting heavier with every shaky breath.

Reid went to work immediately, feeling pleased that Emily was getting her rest. She needed it. He didn't know all that much about cooking; well, neither did his mother. He, however, remembered every word from the cookbook she used to wield at dinnertime. With each step and ingredient engraved in his brain, the soup was indubitably well prepared. The mouth-watering scent of sumptuous chicken wafted through the penthouse apartment, under his unbeknownst expertise. Reid left the pot to simmer, not willing to wake her up. Emily lay peacefully on the couch, not aware of the magical bedlam that ensued in her kitchen. He cleaned up afterwards, not willing to let Emily do it for him. It was the least he could do for her.

He sat across her, not wanting to get too close to startle her. Whipping out a book from his own bag, he started to read, glancing at her occasionally. His heart would beat faster every time he caught a glimpse of her. She was bruised and battered, and yet she managed to look exceptionally beautiful effortlessly. It made him smile to know that she was safe, at least for now, in the confines of her homely apartment.

He let himself get lost in his thoughts, up to the point where Emily showed signs of awakening.

"Hey." Reid smiled in comfort as her eyes blinked open.

"Mhmm-" She mumbled, trying to sit up. He closed his book and darted over, kneeling beside the couch to support her.

"Thanks-" She shook her head dazedly. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Just over two hours. That is, unless you want the actual figure." Reid joked, walking back to the kitchen. She sat in disbelief, as she tried to remember why he was here again. He's here to take care of me. Right.

Reid emerged from the kitchen with a bowl in his hand. "Careful, it's hot." He said with concern as he passed the bowl to Emily. She smiled at the sight, ignoring the pain in her abdomen and face.

"I didn't know you could cook." She commented, taking a brief sip of the soup, as the steam arose from the steamy liquid.

"I didn't either." Reid replied, leaving the conversation there.

"This is really good, for someone who 'couldn't' cook." She said, savouring every morsel. She glanced at his attire: he hadn't taken the apron off. She snickered in amusement.

"What?" Reid cocked an eyebrow. He followed her eyes, and looked down on the stained apron. "Oh." He smiled shyly, as Emily laughed. Her laughter was short-lived, as the blistering pain overwhelmed her face. She exclaimed in agony, setting the bowl down on the glass table in front of her.

"Give me a minute." Reid excused himself, as he rummaged through his bag. He returned to her side, with his hands wet, and a tube of liniment clutched in one.

"My mum used to uh- she used to leave this in her bag wherever we went. I was pretty clumsy, growing up. Still am… May I?" Reid muttered, waiting for her permission. Emily nodded, feeling strange warmth from the gesture. No man had ever cared that much for her. Not like this.

Reid squeezed a miniscule amount of the rub onto his index finger. Prudently, he applied it onto the bruises on Emily's face. With every gentle touch, she felt her cheeks get warmer, and her palpitations race faster. She couldn't help but to get lost in his mesmeric hazel eyes; those eyes that she never truly noticed before.

He didn't notice the way she looked at him; he was caught up trying not to hurt her. "If it hurts in any way, just tell me." Reid said, barely shifting his focus.

"Yeah." Emily smiled, wishing Reid could look at her the same way.

"You know, my mum used to do this a lot for me, since I was so maladroit with everything. I still remember how she'd used to use the 'magic kiss' trick on me. Obviously- I knew it- it wasn't true, but I played along with it. And it somehow, always felt- better." Reid said faintly, as he finally pulled away. He wiped his hands clean with a napkin. He wanted to do something; but yet, he didn't know if it was right. I can't, he told himself.

"All done." Reid smiled, expelling his thoughts.

She didn't know what to say, though she wished it could stay this way for a little longer. She panicked as he stood up, wishing he would remain next to her.

Clutching his palm, her heart felt as if it were going to implode. "Reid," she managed to smile. "Thank you."

He was astonished by her sudden initiation of contact; just like the night before in the jet. "Uh- absolutely." He smiled shyly, taking a seat again, much to Emily's content.

"Emily, you got hurt because of me, and I don't think I'd be here right now, if you uh- if you hadn't confronted Cyrus. I'd be in some hospital, if you- know what I mean." He took both her hands in his, and gave them a light squeeze.

"Don't do this to yourself, Reid. I told you, I'd do it again, and I really mean it. All this, wouldn't mean a thing if the team lost you. If your mum lost you- or if I lost you." Emily said, smiling gently at Reid.

"Likewise, I can't imagine losing you. But I can't come to terms that you risked your life for me, and- I could only stand there and watch while Cyrus' men beat you up. I- let me make it up to you." Reid lifted his chin to meet Emily's eyes. He's not lying- Emily felt her heart twinge. Being a profiler did have its perks, although she hoped it wasn't just her blatantly falling blind-sided because of her feelings.

"If you have to, then the thing I want most is for you to stop blaming yourself. Do you hear me?" She replied, shaking her head.

"Yeah." Reid smiled back, giving her hands another gentle clasp. Emily nodded, and smiled back. This time, she felt no pain. Perhaps this was the magic of feeling loved.

Leaning forward, Reid mustered his courage. Meeting her face, he kissed her forehead, avoiding the areas where the ointment was applied. She acknowledged her secret desires with a shy smile.

"You can clean the liniment off now. It works like that." Reid smiled back, his cheeks becoming increasingly flushed.

"Hmph- I thought the bruises stopped hurting because of- never mind." Emily mumbled, brushing her thoughts away.

"The magic kiss?" Reid chuckled.

"Yes- but no. I mean yes- no. It's just that- that feeling of being loved? Never really felt that way before, I guess." Emily bit her lip, staring down at her knees.

"Hey-" Reid frowned, squeezing her palms in his; waiting for her to look at him, until he finally spoke again. "Don't ever say that. I'll always care for you. Always. Do you hear me? You are beautiful, Emily, and I don't understand how- I mean, someone like you deserves to be loved."

"You really know how to win a girl over, don't you?" Emily scoffed, looking back at her feet.

"I- I don't, really. I'm merely- I'm speaking the truth. Nothing less than that." Reid smiled comfortingly at her.

She could feel her pulse beginning to race from the pressure tips of her hands, which were still shielded by his nimble hands. In all honesty, no man had ever spoken to her like Reid did. Her eyes watered, feeling his words tugging on her heartstrings. His heart ached at the sight of her cloudy eyes, as she turned around to face him again. Did I say something wrong? I'm-

"Emily- If I said something wrong- I'm so sorry. Please don't cry-" His eyes filled with desperation.

She leaned her face closer to his: just until she was close enough. With her hands tucked behind his head, her lips grazed his, in an attempt of a soft peck. Reid wasn't sure what to do, but something inside of him had advised him to return the kiss. Emily closed her eyes, regaining her composure with a heavy sigh, just as Reid managed to steal a glimpse of her eyes. He fought against his earlier intentions, not wanting to delve too deeply into matters. He had always loved how her russet eyes seemed to have reflected his in dim light. Needless to say, he had found other things that he admired about her, apart from her physical attributes: how strong she always seemed; how brave she could be; but most of all, how she could let her robust walls down in his presence.

"Is this wrong?" She managed to squeak.

"I don't know. Quite frankly, it feels right. Question is, can emotions be wrong?" Reid replied with a whisper.

"They can't if they're real. So, Spencer Reid, tell me if this is real."

Without another peep, Reid lunged forward, pressing his lips against hers.

Emily had never felt this way before. Call it cliché, but I think I'm in love, she thought. Reid questioned his own emotions, and the surge of his serotonin couldn't be unnoticed. He found himself smiling uncontrollably after their lips parted, leaving him to wonder what love truly meant; and he wouldn't hesitate to find out about it.

Leaving a soft pack on her forehead, he whispered in Emily's ear. "It's late. You need your rest. I'll get going too."

She nodded, biting her lip. A sensation spread across her lips, as if she could still feel Reid's on them. She wished they were, as she witnessed him getting off the sofa, and towards the door.

Shutting her eyes, she cut all her thoughts off. "Spencer," she chortled. "This is- I- would you like to stay? For the night? I know it's crazy, and I don't want you to be obliged to stay, but- Maybe?"

Hanging his coat on the rack again, he turned around, feeling as if he was in his own reverie. He had secretly harboured the intention, but he didn't want to rush anything. And now she's asking, he felt a smile form on the crack of his lips.

"Of course." He laughed shyly, as he approached the couch again.

"Really?" She smiled.

"I'm- I'm glad you asked."

"I'm glad you'll stay."

"Does it mean we're- together?" Reid asked, selecting his diction cautiously.

"Maybe." She picked up his hand, and interlaced her fingers in them giving them a light press. "Maybe." She repeated. He smiled.

… And maybe- maybe it'll work out.