A/N: I wasn't able to update before I went to work, though I really tried. But I promised Fernsfairie that I'd update on Wednesday, as a thank-you for being such a loyal reader and reviewer, and it's still Wednesday here, so as bad as I feel about not getting it done this morning, hopefully I'm forgiven for technically keeping my promise. I get off early on Friday, I'll try to update then.

Thanks to all who have shown this story love with a review. Enjoy!

The next day Spencer rode to police headquarters with the rest of the team, and no one mentioned his disappearing the night before beyond JJ asking him if he enjoyed his dinner. He could tell they were suspicious, however. Whoever they expected when he got into that car, clearly Hermione wasn't it. Perhaps it was simply because she had a driver, but he had a feeling that wasn't it. As soon as the team got to headquarters they were in work mode, and he didn't realize how nice it was to have Hermione able to instantly refill his coffee mug until he found himself getting up to do it several times himself. It took him until nearly eleven, but he finally excused himself to use the bathroom. As he was washing up Rossi entered.

"Anyone else in here?" Rossi asked him.

"No," Spencer replied, getting some paper towels to dry his hands.

"Good," he muttered, locking the door.

"What's going on?" he said, sounding nervous.

"I saw her last night," he said, crossing his arms. "When she came in drop you off. That certainly didn't look like any old college friend."

He was stunned. How could he have let his guard down like that? He never would have let Hermione kiss his cheek if he knew he was being watched by a team member. Or he would have at least attempted to control his blush.

"Who is she?"

"She's the woman I met when I was out to dinner the other night," he replied softly.

"The one you spent the night with?"

"It's not like that," he defended.

"I don't care what it's like, how can you be so sure of her?"

"We were together the other night when Mr. Tarlin was killed. She couldn't have done it."

"You never know who has a relationship with the unsub, and we're assuming there's only one unsub! What if there's a team?"

"I'm sorry, but I think I know enough about Herm... her that I know she's not involved. She wants to see the killer caught as much as we do."

"How could she possibly want that? Is she tied to one of the victims? Reid, you know that's not ethical..."

"No, no, it's not like that," he promised. "I just... I trust her. Don't you think that I might be able to notice if she's leading me on?"

Rossi studied him for a moment. "I don't like the situation, Reid. I'm looking out for the safety of this team, but mostly I'm looking out for you. I don't think if I could take it if we found you across one of those beds if I could do anything to prevent it. You need to be really careful about who you spend your time with. I don't want to discourage you if you've found someone you like, but you could you put it on hold until we catch this unsub?"

"I can tone it down," he muttered, knowing it was a complete lie. "But I'm not going to stop seeing her." He didn't want to tell Rossi that it was going to be the completely opposite situation. He was just going to see her as much as possible until the unsub was caught, and then he and Hermione would move on to their next cases. Unless another witch or wizard went on a public Muggle killing spree in the United States their paths would never cross again. For one sick second he hoped that they didn't catch the unsub soon. He wanted as much time as he could get with Hermione. He didn't want to think of the day the unsub was caught and Hermione left. The day he would lose that smile, and a woman who wasn't awkward around him.

"Is there something you can do for me, then?" Rossi asked, much calmer.

"Anything," he nodded.

"Two things, actually. The first, I want you to check in every night when you get back. Just a quick phone call or a knock on the door. Anything to let me know you're back safely."

"Fine. What else?"

"I want you to introduce her to me."

"Rossi..." he groaned.

"Just so I know her name and what she looks like."

"I'm sure she won't object to that," he said with a nod, but a pit in his stomach. He wasn't sure if Hermione would want any of them to see her, he'd have to find a way to warn her. The card. It was still in his wallet. If he could write a quick note to her he could pray she could still get the message. "But you can't tell anyone else about her. I don't want the rest of the team to get the wrong impression about her."

"Just be careful," Rossi studied him one last time before unlocking the door.

"I will," he promised. Spencer slunk around him, and out into the hallway. Instead of making his way immediately back into their room he ducked into an empty interrogation room. He pulled the card from his wallet, flipped it to the now-blank side, and scribbled his message to Hermione.

Rossi wants to meet you. For safety reasons.

The words disappeared almost as soon as he had written them. He was placing the card back in when it suddenly felt warm between his fingers. He pulled it back out and looked where his message had been seconds before. It read:

That's not a problem. I'll make sure to say hello when I come pick you up this afternoon.

He smiled at the words as they disappeared. The little reminder that he was going to see her got him through the day, which was another where arguments broke out at almost any slight provocation. Garcia was refusing to take calls after Rossi snapped at her for taking too long pulling up information from credit card receipts from one of the bars. Derek was trying to get her to take his call so he could sweet-talk her back into a good mood. When seven o'clock came and Hotch announced they could take the rest of the day to themselves every one of them visibly relaxed. Rossi appeared next to Spencer, looking expectant. Without a word Spencer gathered his things and walked outside. Hermione was leaning against the sedan, looking agitated and speaking quickly to someone he had never seen before, but someone he was willing to guess was another Auror, a tall, intimidating looking man missing a chuck out of his cheek.

"Listen," she snapped as they came into hearing range. "You can look into it all you want to, but I don't think it's going to get us anywhere. And I can't come back and check your work right now, because no one says no to bloody Potter," she said, the last part dripping sarcasm. She took a deep breath, then said "I promise, I'll give it at least five minutes in the morning. I shouldn't shoot it down right away, so I'll look it over."

"Thank you, Ms. Granger," the man said in a gruff voice.

"I'll see you in the morning, Evander," she sighed.

"Happy birthday, Ms. Granger."

"Don't remind me!" she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The man bowed in some kind of salute, then strode away into the crowd. Cautiously Spencer stepped towards her.

"Hey," he muttered.

"Hullo," she said shooting him a smile. "Sorry you had to see that. Things are crazy around the office. I'm sure you understand the sentiment at the moment."

"You don't need to tell us twice," Rossi said, stepping forward and offering his hand. "David Rossi, pleasure to meet you."

"Hermione Granger," she smiled, shaking his hand firmly.

"I'd like to say Reid here has told me so much about you, but you seem to be a bit of his secret. What is it you do, Ms. Granger?"

"I'm an independent business consultant," she said without missing a beat. "What I do is I go help struggling businesses figure out what their main problems are, and I work to help rectify their situation."

"So people pay you to come tell them what they're doing wrong?"

"They pay for my help. I chew them out for free," she smiled.

He chuckled. "Where did you meet Reid?" he asked, and Spencer suddenly felt nervous. If their stories didn't match up Rossi would know something was up and would call them on it.

"I went out to eat all by myself the other day. I was getting sick of people constantly nagging me about work, and I wanted a quiet dinner. I saw Spencer eating by himself, and I decided I felt like having a conversation with someone who didn't want to talk business. Sometimes you crave a different conversation. So I took a chance and sat down."

Spencer smiled. The lie was so quick and convincing that even he wouldn't question it, and he was there.

"Seems like a dangerous move, approaching a strange man out eating alone," Rossi commented casually.

"Have you seen him?" she said, motioning towards his thin physique. "I think I could take him in a wrestling match."

Rossi chuckled. "Have a good night, you two. And, if I heard correctly, Happy Birthday, Ms. Granger."

"Thank you, but I'd prefer not to think of my age," she said with a charming smile. Spencer watched Rossi, who now only looked confused as to why such a confident woman would want to spend so much of her time with the socially awkward Spencer. Rossi nodded at Spencer, then hurried off to catch a ride with Hotchner.

"How did I do?" Hermione asked as soon as Rossi was gone.

"I think he likes you," Spencer replied.

"That's good," she nodded. "Now, I'm going to have to cancel our little outing tonight. Harry and Ginny Flooed me out of nowhere demanding to take me to dinner, and he's not taking no for an answer. However, I'd like to invite you along, if you want to come experience wizarding dining."

"Sure," he said, trying to hide his excitement.

"Good," she said, shooting his favorite smile at him. He held the door for her, then climbed in next to her.

"Is wizard dining much different than Muggle dining?" he asked nervously.

"The restaurant we're going to is somewhat pioneering in some more daring wizarding cuisine, but they offer a full menu of Muggle dishes. No ones going to force you to eat the dragon tail soup."

"Dragons?" his jaw dropped.

"Don't worry. I doubt you'll ever encounter one. The only ones in the western hemisphere are Peruvian Vipertooth. There's none in North America."

"I'm somewhat comforted," he said, but he still looked surprised. "Is it really your birthday?"

"My twenty-eighth," she nodded.

"Is it really that big of a deal that you're getting upset over it?"

"I guess because I've worked in this job you think that there are much more important things than taking a night off to celebrate the world orbiting the sun one more time," she shrugged.

"Really? I find this job makes me realize that you never know what will happen tomorrow, so you have to live for today."

"Hmmm," she muttered noncommittally. "I've seen days where I didn't think there was going to be tomorrow. I much prefer feeling like I can plan more than a couple days in advance. It means that there's some kind of peace going on."

He saw something out the window, and asked the driver to stop. He ran into a nearby store, and emerged five minutes later with a small bag.

"Extra caffeinated coffee," he said, stashing the bag under his seat.

"Merlin help any woman who marries you. You may as well just move into a coffee shop," she smiled.

"It's the one vice I'm allowing myself," he shrugged.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the restaurant, which was hidden in a large house on a private tract of land in the suburbs. There were only a couple cars around it, if any Muggles saw the outside of the house they probably wouldn't think that anything was out of the ordinary. Just another family that liked their privacy. When they got inside they were led up to a private dining area where a circular table was set out in front of a fireplace that was casting a soft glow around the room.

"Harry," Hermione beamed as she walked in the room, and she hurried across the room to wrap him in a tight hug.

"Hullo, 'Mione. It's been a while since we've seen you," he said, returning her hug just as enthusiastically.

She greeted Ginny in much the same manner before she turned to Spencer. "Spencer, this is my best friend, Harry Potter, and his wife, Ginny. Ginny, Harry, this is Spencer Reid. He's a Special Agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI."

"The FB what now?" Ginny asked.

Spencer held Hermione's chair out for her, then sat down himself as he answered, "The Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"It's kind of like a special Auror unit that only works in America," Hermione explained. "Ginny comes from a pureblood family. She's not too familiar with much of the Muggle world. We try to educate her, but she's hopeless sometimes."

"My dad must have scared me off all things Muggle, because he liked to mess with Muggle stuff, but he wasn't very good at it, and it often exploded. I'm not anti-Muggle," Ginny added when she looked at Spencer's face. "I just like my little cocoon of Magical comfort."

They spent the first part of dinner with Spencer explaining what the BAU did, and Hermione explaining when and why she sought help from a Muggle with the case.

"You must really be helping. Hermione's stress meter isn't even reading half," Ginny commented as their entrees were served.

"Stress meter?" Spencer asked.

"Her hair," Harry laughed. "The more stress she's under, the frizzier her hair gets. When she was going through her NEWTs, the exams we take at the end of school, her hair was so large passing birds mistook it for a bush."

"They did not!" Hermione protested, though she couldn't suppress a smile. "It was only that one bird that one time..."

Even Spencer joined in with the laughing.

"We have a few escaped frizzy hairs," Ginny said, leaning across the table and poking at a couple hairs that had escaped Hermione's bun. "But it can still be controlled, so you must be helping a lot."

"I'm just trying my best," Spencer replied with a blush.

"So, 'Mione, I know you're not big on the birthday thing..." Harry said, digging in his pocket.

"You didn't," Hermione groaned, slumping down.

"I did. You're my best mate, I have to get my best mate a birthday gift." He placed a small, wrapped box on the table.

"For the first time since you've known me, this doesn't look like a book," Hermione noted as she reached across the table.

"It's not. I hope that doesn't bother you."

She opened the box, then took out the small card that was inside. Her eyes went wide. "Is this...?" she asked in astonishment.

"It is. Your very own Chocolate Frog card. I made sure I bought you the very first one they printed."

"Oh, my God," she said, studying the card. She turned excitedly to Spencer, showing him the card. "All of the most important witches and wizards get put on these trading cards they put in Chocolate Frogs. I can't believe I'm on one," she said excitedly, looking at her picture on the front. She flipped it over, and Spencer read aloud:

Hermione Granger, the female third of the Golden Trio that helped take down Voldemort in 1998, is widely regarded as the smartest witch of her age. Since graduating from Hogwarts in 1999 she has become the top Investigative Auror in the world and, to date, has taken down more than one hundred dark witches and wizards, has published two books about anti-Muggle bias in the wizarding world, helped draft the Muggle Rights Legislation and the Anti Muggle-born Discrimination Law, and has helped develop the standard used in Ministries around the world for interrogating subjects.

"This is so cool. I didn't know I was even getting one. Thank you, Harry," Hermione gushed.

"I thought you'd like it more than a book," Harry smiled, but it fell shortly afterwards. "Ron bought you a broom servicing kit for the Nimbus he bought you last year. I didn't bother bringing it."

Hermione suddenly looked irritated. "That bloody git," she grumbled. "I haven't even touched that bloody broom."

"I should probably tell you before you hear it from him," Ginny started kindly. "Merlin knows he would probably do something horribly insensitive like just send you an... Ron's getting married to Susan Bones."

Hermione put her fork and knife down, and pushed her plate away. "That only took four months. Good for him," she murmured.

"Hermione..."

"Listen, Gin, I haven't been his problem for four months now. He has every right to go off and marry whomever he wants."

"I know you were hoping..."

"I gave up on that idea a while ago. He gave me the choice. Him or my job. I told him if he loved me, he'd be patient about the job. He was gone the next day. Ron wants a woman like your mother. Someone to take care of him, to have dinner on the table when he gets home, to take care of him and his house. I refused to be that woman. And I lost him. I'm not an easy person to carry on a relationship with. I'm gone a lot, and I bring my work home."

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine," she nodded.

"Would it help or hurt if I gave you a present right now?" Spencer asked.

"You got me a gift?" she asked, looking up at him in surprise.

"I've been to that store before, well, the DC branch of it. I found the coffee while I was out looking for a Secret Santa gift for Garcia. And I remembered seeing something," he smiled, picking up his napkin. "Mind if I show you a little magic of my own?"

"I'd like to see it," Hermione smiled at him, her mood visibly lifting, not noticing how closely Ginny was watching them.

"Nothing on either side," Spencer said, flipping the napkin over. He folded it up intricately, then stuffed it into his fist. He opened his fingers to reveal the napkin had gone. Hermione smiled widely, despite the fact she knew it was just an illusion. He reached over, pulled the napkin from by the collar of her jacket, and handed it to her.

"Open it," he encouraged.

She unfolded the napkin to reveal a necklace with a square pendant hanging from it. On the pendant was writing that said 'Peace is the only battle worth waging -Camus'. She looked up at Spencer in surprise.

"Oh, Spencer, it's beautiful," she whispered.

"May I?" he asked. She held her hair up as he clasped it behind her back. "I thought you might need the occasional reminder of what you're doing this for."

"I really like it," she said, standing and wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "Thank you so much."

"Yes, well, I, um, I need to use the bathroom," Spencer said, blushing. He smiled at Hermione one more time before walking from the room.

"Interesting," Ginny said as Hermione sat down. "Very interesting."

"What's interesting?" Hermione asked.

"Spencer."

"What about Spencer?"

"He's a beanpole," Harry offered.

"You should talk, Potter," Hermione laughed. "How you pass your physical every year with those skinny little arms is beyond me."

"Don't you need to use the bathroom, too?" Ginny asked commandingly.

"Yes, dear," Harry answered, scrambling from the room.

"So? How's the shagging?" Ginny asked innocently.

"The what?" Hermione replied in surprise.

"The shagging."

"We're not..."

"Why not? He obviously likes you. A lot," she said, nodding towards the necklace.

"We're work partners. We work really well together. He's a very nice man. But like me? I doubt it. We just get along."

"And I bet you'd get along in bed, too," she sneered.

"You know you look like Malfoy when you do that?"

"Don't change the subject. Answer honestly. Do you like him?"

"Not like that," Hermione shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

"What's with the twenty questions?" she snapped.

"Because you deserve some happiness, and it's obviously not going to come from my idiot brother. The Muggle man likes you, you seem to like him even if you won't admit it, why not try something with him?"

"It's a professional relationship only. Nothing more. When the case is over, we're going to go back to working our old cases like we used to."

"Is that what you want?"

"Ginny, you know what I have to do when this is over. He won't even remember me. I could walk by him and he wouldn't spare me a second glance."

"You won't have to modify his memory if you're sleeping with him."

"Ginny..." she hissed.

"It's true. Section whatever of code some number says that if a witch or wizard is in an 'intimate personal relationship' with a Muggle that the Muggle may be allowed to know about our world, at least until the end of the relationship."

"That was designed so engaged couples didn't have to wait to get married for the magical partner to reveal themselves. That's really not a good wedding present, 'honey, I love you, I'm a witch'."

"You've already cleared that hurdle. He knows you're a witch, and he's still interested."

"He's not interested!" she protested. "We're just like really close friends."

"You should be really close near the hips."

"Ginny!" she clenched her teeth to keep from shouting.

"All I'm saying is the man is completely enamored with you. Don't write him off because you're working this case together. You guys seem a lot alike. There might be something good there if you'd give it a chance," Ginny said calmly, not allowing Hermione to change the subject.

"Right now, the only good I want to see happen is whoever is killing these Muggles to wind up in Azkaban," Hermione replied with finality, and the subject was dropped as Spencer and Harry entered the room.