Elusive Chapter 6
A 2012 Criminal Minds Big Bang Story

by kuriadalmatia

Disclaimers and general author's notes can be found in Chapter 1.

My dear Aaron,

I bid you greetings from St. Louis, Missouri.

… I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation the other night. You're always willing to engage me in conversation when others seem to be fearful or bored with the subjects I choose …

Please don't hesitate to call.

Affectionately yours, as always,
Spencer

Spencer Reid's return to the BAU as a civilian wasn't met with much fanfare. Garcia and JJ fussed over him, of course, and Morgan did to a lesser extent. Griffith was out on a custodial, so there wasn't that potentially awkward standoff between Spencer and his replacement. The other agents who had known Spencer during his short tenure greeted him coolly, but had that air about them which conveyed: You couldn't handle the pressure.

Aaron watched as the younger man and Gideon interacted. There was muted hostility on both sides; the mentor-protégé relationship they had nurtured was long gone. Garcia, Morgan and JJ were genuinely surprised at Spencer's transformation from awkward to confident, and they piled on the compliments about Spencer's upgraded fashion sense.

Aaron had coffee waiting for Spencer by the time the younger man made it to his office. He set the mugs on the coffee table before gesturing Spencer inside and closing the door behind them. Once in privacy, Spencer smiled warmly and said, "Good seeing you, Aaron."

They embraced. Aaron tried his best not to hold on too long—God, he hadn't realized how desperate he'd become for that contact—and resisted the urge to brush his lips against Spencer's cheek. He did wonder what prompted the former agent to show up at the BAU and he asked as much as walked over to the coffee table and handed the beverage to his guest. It had been six weeks since the Kalamazoo conversation, and since then, Aaron's personal life had been upended.

Spencer took the coffee and settled on the leather couch. Aaron took the chair and warmed his hands with his own cup of brew.

"I called Haley this morning to see if I could take you both out to dinner while I was in town," Spencer stated quietly, gently almost, and avoiding Hotch's original question. "She declined but then told me that I should ask you myself. She said … she said you were living here now." He looked up, concern clear in his features. "I wasn't sure if that was metaphorically or not."

Aaron sighed. He wasn't prepared to talk about his personal life at the office, but he knew he had to say something to Spencer. "I spend a lot of time here, it's true."

"Do you spend the night here?"

He glared at the audacity of the question, but Spencer seemed unafraid. Aaron refused to answer, the admission too raw.

Spencer stared at him for a moment before tilting his head as if in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

Relieved that he (temporarily) escaped the discussion (he knew Spencer would come back to it eventually), Aaron asked "What brings you to the BAU, though? You could have called."

The younger man shrugged. "I know, but we haven't spoken to each other since I was in Kalamazoo. I needed to see how you were doing. I know you worry about me, but I do worry about you as well."

Aaron nodded, warmed by the sentiment. "You weren't up to tracking me down at the Y."

"That … and White Collar offered me a position in their department," Spencer told him. "I've always found paperwork meditative."

"Are you going to take it?" Aaron asked, hoping to God he sounded neutral. Having Spencer back at the Bureau, even in different department, would be … it would be … hazardous. He had no clue if he could stave off temptation with the object of his affection within such close proximity. And what would he do without those letters? The letters that made him feel worthy of someone's attention and admiration. Without those, how would Aaron get through the day?

Spencer gave a coy smile. "I don't know if I'm ready to settle down yet. All this traveling? It's given me a sense of freedom that I never had before."

"You interviewed at the Ancient Eight, then CalTech," Aaron said. "Michigan, Virginia Tech, UMass, MIT, and Georgetown, too."

The younger man stared at him in surprise. "You remember where I had interviews?"

He swallowed and fiddled with his coffee mug. "I couldn't sleep one night so I came up with a chart with the schools you listed and the odds that you would accept a posting at each one."

"Really?" Spencer beamed. "Which is your pick?"

"Harvard. You conquered CalTech as a grad student, so it was the next logical choice," Aaron answered as he met Spencer's gaze. "You also once said that Harvard was your safety school."

"I would love to see your chart," Spencer told him, although he didn't confirm Aaron's guess. "I'm curious to see what other parameters you used."

A knock at the door prevented Aaron from answering. JJ opened the door and stepped in. "Sorry to interrupt but Garcia is insisting we all go down to the Auld Dubliner for a round of drinks. It's after five and she's threatening credit scores if she doesn't get her way."

Spencer smiled. "Sure."

Aaron only nodded so JJ said, "We're leaving in fifteen," before closing the door.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Spencer ventured, "You're not calling Haley to tell her you're going to be late."

He grimaced as he stared at the floor, hating that Spencer wasn't backing off of the topic. Shame rushed through him. There were plenty of explanations he could give, but there was only one honest one and the one he couldn't give before. "It's a trial separation."

Spencer leaned forward and covered Aaron's hands. His thumb caressed Aaron's wrist, causing Aaron to bite back a groan as a shiver raced down his spine.

His touch is just like you remember, Aaron's mind whispered. Just like in your fantasies. He stared at their hands and nearly missed Spencer's next quiet statement.

"You haven't told the team."

He swallowed hard. "I don't know what they know," he admitted. "They haven't asked and I haven't said anything."

"You moved out." Blunt. Astute. Very much like the first time Spencer saw the problems with Hotch's marriage and asked him about it.

"It was easier for me to leave than her," Aaron explained, wondering if Spencer's hands on his gave him the courage to admit the truth. "I'm closer to the office now. I've had my mail forwarded to a post office box. I've received all your letters," because he didn't want Spencer to worry about that.

"We don't have to go out tonight," Spencer told him. "We can …"

"Morgan, JJ and Garcia are your friends, too," he interrupted, because the last thing he wanted was Spencer dissecting his relationship. That's not the whole truth, his mind chided. You don't trust yourself alone with him. You'd test your theory that Spencer's physical affection and compliments are, in fact, his way of seducing you … He took a deep breath, still staring at their hands. He hated his next words, but he had to say them.

He had to.

"They miss you and it's not just because they used to pawn off their paperwork on you."

The younger man didn't respond to the statement, but squeezed his hands once before withdrawing them. His voice was soft and gentle as ever. "Will you give me your new address?"

"Of course."

The evening at the Auld Dubliner was filled with good-natured teasing and drinks. Gideon didn't join them but no one was really surprised. Soon, the war stories started and Aaron could tell that Morgan, JJ and Garcia were thrilled that Spencer still kept up with their cases.

When ten rolled around, they all agreed to call it a night. Since Spencer had taken a taxi for his visit to the Bureau (he avoided any mention of interviewing for White Collar crimes), Spencer rode with Aaron to the bar; Aaron offered him a ride home.

The drive to Spencer's apartment was spent in comfortable silence. Aaron had only been there twice, after the Dowd and Garner cases. "Please, come up for a drink," Spencer told him.

"It's late," Aaron automatically replied. His desperation for Spencer's company made him leery of being alone with the man.

"I know."

Aaron hoped to God that the man didn't hear him gulp. Holy Christ, is he …? No … he's offering to listen. Offering to listen to you because that's what he does … he's not … No. You're reading too much into his body language and those damn letters.

Spencer tacked on, "I'm worried about you, Aaron."

And, God help him, Aaron had no defense to that.

It was why Aaron ended up sitting on Spencer's lumpy couch in his sparse studio, drinking a glass of his favorite bourbon.

Spencer settled across from him in the mismatched armchair. "I really am sorry about your marriage."

"So am I."

"Is she, ah, still receiving investment advice from Rick?"

Aaron twitched then took a healthy swig. "It's Trent from the health club now."

"Do you address that during your counseling sessions?"

"She claims that they're 'just friends' and he's a 'compassionate listener' and 'there when she needs him,'" he spat bitterly, doing air quotes as he spoke. "She compares him to JJ and Griffith—Beth Griffith, she joined the team after you left but was out on a custodial today—but I've never …" He took another drink. "I've never crossed that boundary with a member of my team, or anyone for that matter."

For a moment, nothing was said. Spencer finally said, "You're too noble."

"Nobility has nothing to do with it," he muttered and looked away.

"And if the opportunity were right there?" Spencer leaned forward, yet didn't reach out to Aaron. "Would you take advantage of it?"

Aaron closed his eyes because he couldn't bear to see Spencer's reaction to his next statement. Aaron was desperate for companionship, desperate for understanding, and desperate for his interpretations of Spencer's letters and body language to be correct. If he was wrong, it would show on Spencer's face and he'd rather live with his fantasy Spencer than one who rejected him. And there was still that matter of his marital vows.

"I would want to, yes. But it's …" He let out a harsh breath. There. He said it. "It's still adultery."

"Then it has everything to do with nobility."

The sincerity of the words made Aaron shiver as shame surged through him. He certainly talked a good game of being the pious, innocent husband of a cheating wife, but in reality? He'd graduated to finger fucking himself, pretending that it was this man because jerking off wasn't enough sometimes. He fantasized about Spencer living with him and teaching at Georgetown while Aaron continued with the Bureau. He dreamed about boarding that Amtrak train with Spencer and stopping at oddly named cities because they had the freedom to do so.

Aaron wondered what would happen if he brushed his lips against Spencer's. Would Spencer kiss him back? Or would he ruin everything by making that move?

He knew he could drive himself mad if he kept focusing on that possibility, so he hastily changed the subject with the absolutely pathetic question of, "How long are you in town?"

"I have to leave early tomorrow," Spencer replied as he settled back on the cushions. "University of Pennsylvania." When Aaron opened his eyes and met the man's gaze, Spencer added defensively, "I'm not stringing them along. UPenn's offer is for a position at their Cartographic Modeling Lab. Totally different than Cornell or Brown."

"I'm not judging you," Aaron assured him. "It's just … you're lucky to have that many opportunities."

"All this travel has given me a chance to really think. I was groomed to be a profiler since Gideon showed up on CalTech's campus for a recruitment lecture. Profiling became the goal of everything I did, the doctorates I obtained. All to better understand the criminal mind. Now? I guess I'm finally allowing myself to explore what else is out there."

"There's no harm in that," Aaron told him earnestly. He did understand Spencer's need. Growing up, Aaron was expected to be a defense attorney and eventually hold political office. His first rebellion was to take a position with the prosecutor's office and was completed by joining the FBI. "I did the same thing. With a lot less the wanderlust, though."

"I've always wondered about the lawyer-turned-agent."

Aaron didn't want to go down that path of discussion, so he asked other question that had been nagging him: "How do you afford traveling? The Bureau didn't pay all that much and I know you pay your mom's medical bills."

"Professional poker player," Spencer announced with a little flourish. "Serious poker players are actually really good mathematicians. Those who play for a living depend heavily on statistics such as expected value, preflop raise percentage, call percentage, and fold percentage."

"I thought you were banned from the casinos."

"A few in Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump," he grinned. "But here's the thing: everyone counts cards. You can't really survive unless you figure out how. Apparently it's pretty much expected in tournaments. I also play at the levels I know I can beat."

Aaron laughed. "So I won't be seeing you on the World Series of Poker."

"Unlikely." His grin turned wicked. "It's not that I can't beat them. I just prefer a quieter life."

"I would love to watch you play."

"I think that would be grand."

My dear Aaron,

I bid you greetings from Rising Sun, Indiana ...

… I thought about your comment regarding my meetings with academic institutions. In retrospect, I can see how the multiple interviews at the various universities may have been seen as bolstering my ego. I admit that part of the exercise became merely to see who thought I was the most valuable since I had tunnel-vision regarding my initial career choice. Therefore, I have suspended the interview process …

Affectionately yours, as always,
Spencer

"Wow. Karma's a bitch," JJ muttered as she scrolled through her Blackberry.

Hotch looked up, surprised at her comment. They were sitting across from each other on the way back from a case in Pueblo, Colorado. Curious, he asked, "How so?"

She shook her head and set her phone down. "Remember Tim Larison? The reporter from the network affiliate in Mobile who tipped off the raid on the child pornography ring?"

God, that case had been a disaster. Thanks to Larison's desire to get "the big scoop," the eight suspects packed up their wares and went off the grid before Hotch's team could execute the warrant. When Hotch confronted Larison, the man was unapologetic. Larison took it a step further, openly mocking Hotch during the press conference afterwards.

Hotch recalled Spencer's words in a letter he received shortly after the case. The former agent frothed for an entire page, congratulating Hotch for having the reporter brought up on obstruction charges. Unfortunately, the DA felt that Hotch had gone overboard and dismissed it.

Hotch now asked, "What about him?"

"Arrested for child pornography," JJ told him.

He stared, knowing his mouth dropped open a bit. "Really."

"Really."

"Let me guess – he's accusing us of setting him up."

"His lawyer, actually," she told him. "The presiding judge put a gag order on the case, but … Larison isn't well-liked by his peers so information is, well … let's put it this way. The fact that he has an online kiddie porn account that dates back five years is now public knowledge."

"Goes to motivation," the former prosecutor in Hotch blurted quietly. Did Larison honestly think that he would never be caught? He then weighed the odds of Larison giving up his sources. "They can add those obstruction charges back in to the mix."

"Still a lawyer," she teased.

"Definitely."