Forelsket (n) - Norwegian: The euphoria you experience when you're first falling in love.

It was just after midnight, and Karita was making an absolute mess of her new kitchen. She was making a mess of the whole place if she were honest with herself. Boxes opened and unopened littered the floor, maybe still in disbelief that she had moved. It was a very nice place; it was in D.C. rather than Alexandria. She had pointed out to Spencer that it had added a few miles to your commute to work, and he had rolled his eyes playfully. But it had everything anyone could want, Derek had saw to that, though she had not made it easy for him.

She had added three fold on her must have list, from practical to off the wall needs but he took them all in stride marking it down in his mind and finding places to meet her bizarre needs. When he had found a good place for Mrs. Fargus to go, with Karita subtly paying the remainder of the rent each month, she had thrown in the towel. She would have to move and after finally giving in and putting an effort in searching she had found her new home. Plain walls she could paint and decorate but with carved antique beams and woodwork through the apartment, no carpeting, a small nook to hold her computer and enough for a bookshelf, two baths, and a large kitchen, but what sealed the deal was it was out of the way, inconspicuous, it was lavish or ritzy, nothing to spotlight her or give anything away.

She thought about Derek with a sigh, the last few weeks had not been easy on him. Having taken a week off to settle himself. He had gone to celebrate his mother's birthday, and had to relive the one of the worst moments of his life. Nobody spoke about it, and she didn't know what to do. Karita had been hurt before, but never like that, only witnessing that kind of cruelty. Alden, she had watched him be hurt that way by their tormentors. She hadn't known what to do then either, but almost two decades had passed since then and she thought she would have the sense of how to hand out that kind of comfort.

But no, going there and hearing Buford's deeds as he was arrested she did the only thing she knew, she had reached out to her brother and punished the man. Resulting in rage from her father, using their abilities to hurt, she had told him it wasn't hurt it was retribution. How about all the other boys he had hurt? Didn't he deserve it? This was where her and her father's views on justice divulged – he believed locking them away with other criminals, becoming more violent was justice whereas she and her team believed in stricter terms for their guilty. She didn't believe in killing necessarily, but she did believe in suitable punishment.

Walking off the jet that night she had wrapped her arms around Derek's hulking body, letting his breathing even as he clasped to her body. She had tried to tell him with her eyes that in some kind of way she understood and would listen to him, talk to him. She would tell him her pain and listen to his if it was ever needed and somehow it had gotten through. He smiled sadly and nodded as they walked of the tarmac together.

The timer vibrated on her phone, signaling her concoctions was done. Filling up the Tupperware she put the some of the food in a knapsack before proceeding to icing her cupcakes, fixing one up with extra sprinkles and a candle. She wondered if she should have gotten some wine, but she wasn't a drinker and neither was Spencer who was sleeping through all this right now. She felt bad to wake him; they had been on cases back to back after Buford – the worst being Frank Breitkopf.

Edging her way to the bedroom she couldn't help watching him from the light of the doorframe. They had both grown accustomed to the middle of the bed, each growing bolder as to how close they would get to the other. He was sprawled on his back, mouth slightly open has his growing hair scattered across his face. Every now and again, even in the kitchen she could hear the little sounds of grunts and sighs of contented sleep coming from him. Making her way over to the bed, she scooted to his side on her knees. After brushing the stray locks away from his face she bent low to his ear.

"Spen, wake up."

She could tell the warm breath tickled the shell, him readjusting with a motion of the shoulder and a few murmurings.

"Spen?"

Taking his shoulder she shook it lightly, trying to jar him from sleep. This seemed to work, his eyes blinking warily, trying to understand what woke him.

"Spen?"

He turned to her with a baffled expression. "Is it morning?"

She shook her head, timidly, hoping he wouldn't be too mad over lost sleep tonight.

"No, it's not, Spen. But I have plans for us tonight."

"Plans?"

He was becoming more alert now, sitting up, and scrubbing the sands of sleep from his eyes. Grinning, Karita reached behind her and pulled out the lit cupcake.

"Happy birthday, Spen!"

He smiled, though she could tell he wished he were still asleep. "Thank you, you didn't have to do this."

"I know, but I wanted to. And I hope you'll want to but I really do have plans for tonight. Only if you want to though."

Spencer had taken a fingertip of frosting to taste, his eyes full of questions. "What kind of plans?"

Karita shrugged. "I can't tell you, it's a surprise. I know everyone will want to go out tonight to celebrate so I wanted to do something, you know, just us tonight."

Spencer leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Okay. So what should I wear on these 'surprise' plans?"

Karita shrieked in excitement that he had agreed to go that she hugged him tightly from behind. "YAY! Oh, something warm, for sure, and dark if you can."

Spencer looked at her suspiciously as she pranced out of the room to let him dress. She gathered the supplies, putting it all by the doorway for when they leave. Also putting up the fenced play pen in what she called the rabbit hideaway for March and Hatter to play in and not destroy while they were gone. She was giving them some water when Spencer had emerged.

"Are you allowed to tell me anything about where we're going?"

Looking over his outfit, she flitted back to the bedroom, returning with the purple scarf and draping it loosely around his neck. Playing with the ends she stood on her toes to peck his lips. "Nope."

She smiled when he pulled her back in, letting the kiss become more intimate. "You know, we could stay in. I wouldn't mind spending my birthday just doing this."

Spencer had started becoming bolder in kissing, and she was glad for it. She worried about which moves to make or what they should be doing, so she was glad to have someone else take those reins.

"I would too, but then again, we'd miss out on other fun."

Turning she scooped up a sleep masked about to place it over his head when Spencer stepped back, fear and alarm widening his eyes. She dropped the mask instantly.

"Okay, we won't blindfold you. I get it, no worries. This changes things, okay, no, I know, first turn around and face this way. I guess I'll give you this before we leave, give you a clue since you'll know where we'll be going. No peeking over the shoulder."

"Kari, it's fine, you don't have to –"

"Hush, everyone gets cake and presents on their birthday."

Spencer stood facing the wall as he was told, hands at his side while he waited. "You have to open it before we leave."

Spencer turned back to her as she thrusted the wrapped package towards him. He gave a gracious smile, and she knew he was uncertain by this kind of attention.

"A Tesla watch?"

"Yes, oh, you don't like it? I remembered you telling everyone about how you were miffed about how Edison got so much credit on electricity while it was actually Tesla's work that created it. I'm not really expecting you to wear it around the office or anything; it's more of a gag gift. But I-I thought you'd like it."

Spencer took her wringing hands and kissed her forehead. "I love it."

She smiled, uncertain, as he undid the packaging and put the watch on. He flicked on the little coils and wound up the dial, grinning at her as the whirs brought it to life.

"So this is a clue, huh? We'll be seeing something about Tesla then? Or electricity?"

"Still can't tell you, but come on, this is a time restricted mission we have so long to get there and everything."

Spencer laughed, letting himself be pulled out the door. They found a compromise where he'd lean the seat all the way back, laying down as they drove. He could probably glance out the window if he wanted but he wasn't straight seeing their destination.

"I'm sorry about the blindfold, Kari."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Spen. I told you, I get it, it's a vulnerable thing to have a sense cut off from you."

"I don't want you to think I don't trust you. I do. It's something I haven't gotten over yet."

"Well, maybe with time you will. I could have you busting a bunch of piñatas in a few years."

Spencer chuckled. "It happened not long after we met. I let it happen again."

"Spen…"

He didn't have to do this; she knew he was pouring himself out to her. But she didn't want him to rip the flesh while opening the scab.

"I don't know why I even did it. I wanted someone to like me so bad. And when I got that note, saying that this girl thought I was cute. Well, it was shame on me."

"No, Spensar, not shame on you. I want you to stop thinking that way. It's shame on them. They were older and had no reason to do things like that, especially to someone as sweet as you. It's their loss; they missed out on getting to know someone really great. I know you're cautious of people, but I'm glad those experiences didn't change you. You're still so sweet and caring. I could tell that straight away from you."

She could see him toying with the scarf as she spoke. "I often wondered after meeting you why you helped me, honestly, sometimes I wondered if you were even real."

"I'm pretty sure I'm real. I wish there was a way for me to get to you how much you matter. You're amazing, Spensar. Not just for your mind either, though that in itself is brilliant. But the way you write your mom every day and speak about her so affectionately. Your gentlemanly ways where you always open the door for a lady, offer up your seat on the subway, or just helping with a caseload. You're generous not only with time, but you give anything you got for someone who needs it. You may be soft-spoken on some things but when you really believe in it I see how you get riled up and stand up for it. There's too many things to count what you are, Spen, it'd probably take years to cover it all. And I find myself in disbelief on how I got so lucky to be with someone like you."

"Pull over."

Wait, what? They were over halfway to their destination, did she upset him? Pulling into an empty lot, she watched Spencer sit up, and she waited apprehensively. Undoing his buckle, she gasped in surprise when she was being pulled over the gearshift as Spencer's mouth sealed over hers. She moaned in bliss at this sudden change of demeanor. She had to admit she liked this new side of him. After pulling away she sighed and leaned her head to his shoulder, feeling his hand stroke her back.

"I l-love you, Kari."

Her breathing hitched high, the butterflies that had gathered in her stomach stirred relentlessly. It had just been over the six month mark of her arrival. Was this too sudden? He loved her…really? Did she love him? Looking into his face at the jeweled amber eyes that were apprehensively waiting for her answer, she knew.

"I love you, too, Spensar. I never thought I'd ever feel this way again, I wasn't sure I even wanted to. But you made it so hard not to. You've become very important to me, Spen, and I don't know what I'd do without you."

He pulled her on his lap, blushing at his own confidence; she curled up like a kitten hugging him tightly as she listened to his heart speed up.

"I never thought I'd love anyone like this either."

She looked up at him, as his gaze turned to her, and she smiled shyly at the warmth. She allowed her mind to idle as they lay together, before she realized they had a reason to be out.

"Shit, shit it's almost two, if we get there by then –"

"Kari?"

She had been in thought calculating the moves, there would be time, and if they were caught what's the worst that could happen. Mikael hadn't talked to her since Chicago, and though he was angry, she was sure he'd let her borrow from him if she were in trouble.

"'Kay the plan's still on, we got to charge though."

One corner of Spencer's mouth curled in a doubtful smile. "This plan of yours seems a little…dubious, perhaps we could go back –"

"No, it's fine. Trust me."

Finally reaching their destination, Spencer looked up from the car window. "The Smithsonian? But – did you arrange for a private viewing or something?"

"Or something, I guess. Come on, we're on time."

Going the back way, Karita reached into her back and took out one of her lock picks and set to work. Spencer bent down to the knob and stared at her incredulously.

"Are we breaking in? That's illegal!"

She laughed. "Come on, Spen, be a little bit roguish tonight. It's fine."

"No, it's not, they're cameras –"

"Taken care of."

"The guards –"

"I know they're schedule, why'd you think we needed to get here at a certain time? I've got this figured out, no worries, we're only going to look around. We're not going to upset anything, but if you really want to go…"

She had stilled the pick, waiting for his response. When he finally sifted a nod, she smiled and continued. Hearing the click, she pulled the door open, allowing him in first.

"I really don't think we should be doing this."

"But it'll be fun, we can see everything without all the people and noise bustling."

The display lights made it easy to see, and she grasped his hand in hers steering the way through the halls.

"We could look at all the birds of D.C. first if you like."

Spencer was still looking about as if any second tanks and guns would be pointed at them. Facing him, she rubbed his arms in assurance.

"It's okay, I promise. We have three hours before the guards come back for checks. We have the whole place to ourselves. So would you like to go to the main event or look around a little first?"

"Um, maybe what you wanted to surprise me with first."

Karita nodded, pulling him along to second floor.

"So where'd you learn to lockpick?"

Karita grinned. "It becomes useful in the field every once in a while. But I learned when I was a child; it just took longer to refine the techniques."

"Why would a child want to learn to pick locks?"

There was humor in his voice, and she tried to smile along. Why would a child want to pick a lock? The answer was simple, because they had been locked up and they wanted out. Noticing her silence, his smiling ceased, but she smiled at him trying to let him know it was okay. Getting to the floor she pushed through the double doors.

"Isn't it neat? Reminds me of something out of Frankenstein."

In the center of the room was a huge Tesla coil, the original encased in glass case next to it. The size was astounding of itself and Karita couldn't help but look at it.

"I didn't even know they had a Tesla exhibit here."

"It's on loan from a museum in Serbia. They were supposed to pack it up tonight but it was postponed until tomorrow. So I thought it might be fun. You know Tesla had an eidetic memory as well, he'd memorize poetry."

Spencer grinned, embracing her from behind he laid his chin on top of her head. "I did know that. Did you know he was a polyglot and could speak eight languages?"

"Jesam."

Spencer laughed as she answered in Tesla's native tongue of Croatian.

"I guess we both have things in common with him. I only learned as much as I did about him because of my mother. Since the Austrian Empire was around that time she believed it would be good to know about him."

"She believed in her roots."

"She did. I think that was why she became a researcher to be like her mother. Tesla credited his brilliance to his mother."

"I can concur with that."

She kissed his cheek and let him lead her around. "Oh! Tesla's egg of Columbus."

She looked at the contraption in bewilderment. "It doesn't look anything like an egg."

Spencer chuckled. "It's not supposed to. The idea of it came from the story of Columbus tapping the tip of an egg onto a table to flatten it, where it could stand up from that tip. Tesla, using magnetic currents was able to produce the effect of it. If on, it would produce a spinning force field and if an egg were put in the current it would be suspended by the tip. It's actually the same technology he applied to the induction motor. You know earlier attempts left the motor running sporadically and couldn't – I'm rambling aren't I?"

Karita grinned. "You are, but I don't mind. I like you sharing things with me. So what does an induction motor do exactly? Is it just for old fans and stuff?"

Spencer's eyes brightened as he allowed himself to spill out every detail he obtained on the topic, holding Karita's hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

After touring the Tesla exhibit as thoroughly as they could, they wandered around the other parts of the museum. Even able to go into the butterfly pavilion, Karita snapping a few pictures when a few let themselves land in Spencer's hair. They settled down in the ocean hall to eat the meal she had made earlier. Both curled up and watching the sea turtles and various fish swimming along, oblivious to their existence.

"So Yom Kippur is coming up."

Karita snorted, rice almost coming out her nose. "Um, yes, it is."

She waited for him to continue. "I was seeing what you were doing for it. I've been reading up on the Jewish calendars and traditions of the holidays…and, well, wanted to know what you usually did."

"Well, usually, I'd be at home, so I'd be able to help my grandmother cook on the eve and we'd eat more than we should, say the viduy before everyone left and if I'm not working the next day I'd basically sleep all day."

"That's it?"

Karita shrugged. "Pretty much. You're supposed to abstain from any physical need – eating, drinking, bathing, dressing up, beautifying. So I'd stay in bed between wakes I'd ponder on things, ask for the forgiveness I need, hoping for strength through the year. It's more of a meditation day, I suppose. I told you we weren't very devout. A lot of people of the faith would probably exile us for how we are, I mean, we celebrate Christmas. That's not very…I don't know. I just think you should be able to celebrate what you want and believe in what you want. If that's taking pieces of all religion and cultures then so what."

"So your family gets together on Christmas as well?"

"Of course, it's always a big celebration, a lot like Hanukkah, but with more singing and decorating. Christmas is the best."

Seeing the excitement on her face, Spencer bumped her shoulder. "Not as much as Halloween though."

Karita looked at him, flabbergasted. "Are you kidding me? Okay, Halloween is great, but essentially you only get one night, Christmas it's like a whole month, with some more than that. Then Christmas in July. C'mon, Christmas is the best."

"No way, Halloween is far superior."

"But Christmas you get all the lights and –"

"You can put up lights for Halloween."

"Not like on Christmas, and you don't get the snow that glistens from the lights, so there."

"That's hardly a benefactor for why Christmas is better. Besides you lived in California practically your whole life when did you see snow?"

"That is one of the reasons I'm super excited this year I'll be able to see it without either having to travel or be on a computer. Then there's the food."

"You get all the candy you want on Halloween."

"And a total sugar hangover the next day, you can have sweets on Christmas and real food. Plus cozy sweaters and snowball fights, sledding –"

"Dressing up as anything you want, scary movies, scaring people, then the weather, the leaves changing, you could jump in the leaves, apple picking, and pumpkin carving…"

"I think we have to agree to disagree, though they are both wonderful holidays. Way better than Thanksgiving."

Spencer chuckled. "So you don't like Thanksgiving?"

"It's not that I don't like it but I don't like to help cook from morning to night, cleaning up, being forced to watch football, and then being made to sit out for Black Friday because I have young capable arms to carry a good load."

Spencer laughed, and Karita eyed him nervously. "Since we've brought up the topic, what are doing for Christmas?"

Spencer shrugged, a dismal look coming over. "Probably same thing I did last year, be asked to attend everyone else's festivities and end up staying home and doing case files."

That was no way to celebrate the season. "I was…kind of hoping, if, you know, you weren't too busy, or if you were going to visit your mom this year. Las Vegas isn't far from California. I know this is another invitation but I would really like it if you came over and met my family. I mean, they're crazy but they are nice, and have been asking a lot about you. I'd like to prove you're real in the least."

"You want me to meet your family?"

"Well, yeah, if you want to. I don't want to force you into it or anything."

"You wouldn't be forcing me, I just, what if they don't like me?"

Karita let a hand stroke his hair. "They're going to love you. You're a good person, and you make me happy, that's what matters to them. I think I should be the one that's worried about a parent not liking them. I don't know how to act if I ever met your mother."

"What do you mean?"

"You're her baby boy! Her pride, she raised you, you're both incredibly close. I'd be afraid she'd think I was taking you away, or scared she might not think I'm good enough for you."

"Actually my mom thinks you're a good influence on me."

"Really? You – you write about me in your letters?"

"Of course. You're a big thing in my life, Kari."

"And you in mine."

He cupped her face letting him lean into her and kiss her softly, the kiss intensifying as he opened his mouth. Her feeling the edging of his tongue on her lips. This was a first, she opened her mouth to his let him deepen the kiss as he tasted her. She moaned lightly, the sound vibrating within their mouths. His kisses spread down to her neck, another first, as he teethed the delicate area. Karita's breathing quickened. He was leaving his mark on her. It bubbled something in her that hadn't been there in a long time. It wasn't until his fingers danced along the hem of her shirt did she stiffen and he noticed. She could sense the shame he felt course through him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have –"

"No, it's okay, I just haven't had to think about it until now. But I have scars, Spen, I had so many of them but through treatments and countless tubes of creams I got rid of most of them. The one on my shoulder was one that wouldn't go away so I covered it with the tattoo. The other it's too long and since it's covered by my clothes I never thought about it much and I didn't see the point of spending so much money to getting one there."

Spencer's thumbs were rubbing soothing circles on her hipbone. "Kari, you should never be ashamed or embarrassed of your body. You're, well, quite frankly, you're gorgeous, inside and out. And I hope you know I would never judge or see anything from you than what you are."

Raising her shirt up she lifted it over her head, revealing her naked torso. It was a long scar, luckily the treatments had helped, but there was still an indented silvery line from the wound that went from her collarbone to below her navel, the point of her collarbone branching out into a v-shape on her right breast.

"I can't really, um, feel this part."

She grasped her right breast for emphasis, staring past him, waiting for his rejection.

"Kari, look at me."

Slowly she turned her eyes to his and was surprised by the tender love in them.

"You're beautiful, every last inch of you."

She could feel the question in him, and trembled as he began to trace the scar. Astonishment feeling her as it began to tingle, a sensation it hadn't been capable of in years.

"W-would you ever talk to me about it?"

She gave a bitter smile, a grimace forming as she lowered the shirt. Smiling a little at the look of disappointment on Spencer's face. "I should've talked to you about it more. I know I told you that my mom believed people were after us, I should have mentioned that the bad people were real."

He gaped at her, but she lowered her eyes hoping he wouldn't need an elaboration tonight. "I think we should get out of here, Spen. I think the fish got an eyeful and the guards will be patrolling soon."

He nodded, dazed from her confession. They were able to make it back to her place without any pit stops, the ride quiet and she was afraid she had scared him.

"Spen?"

He looked up at her as he was about to change to his pajamas in the bathroom.

"Are we okay?"

He approached her then. "Of course we are, I kind of thought you would be upset with me bringing up something painful like that."

"I'm not mad at you for it, I feel bad for not explaining things to you. Like you said, it's painful. I hope it didn't ruin your day."

"It didn't. I'm glad you're opening up to me."

"And you with me."

She kissed him then, mending the night, and he kissed back eagerly. Dropping the pajamas on the bed he cupped her head. Her hands wondered to the hem of his dress shirt, and his actions faltered.

She smiled against his lips. "I get half naked for you and you won't take off your shirt. You're breaking the rules of I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

She took a step back, and she could see the fear that he thought she was mad at him. She assured him as she got on the bed, removing her shirt again, and beckoning him to her. He crawled on the bed to her, letting himself be embraced in her hold as their lips connected again. His hands wandered nervously restless along her skin, she gave a sound of encouragement against him. How did he make her like this? Grabbing his collar she brought him closer, his hands gripping her waist. Leaning up as his hands trailed down her back she broke to let him release her from the confines of her bra.

It took everything to fight the urge to cover herself, her modesty kicking at his scrutiny. But she let herself lean back on the pillows, letting his gaze flutter across her. His hands came up slowly, like she would push him away if he went to fast. His fingers drew on her stomach, strumming on her like strings on a guitar, before gliding up the center of her chest and moving to the back of her head to kiss her again.

It was a tender kiss, and he trembled with emotion. "I'm waiting for the part where I wake up. I never pictured myself sharing this kind of intimacy with anyone. Especially someone like you."

She searched his eyes. "Someone like me?"

"You know Morgan was wrong, you're not a pixie, you're an angel, Karita."

She blushed, and Spencer looked at her mesmerized as the color spread to her chest. Pulling back he let his hands go to the top button of his shirt. Pursing his lips to calm himself as he unfastened the shirt. He gave her a look in what she was sure was similar to hers earlier. The anticipation of rejection. Instead she moved forward, letting her hands rest on him, absorbing the heat and feeling the kick of his heart. He gasped when she let her lips kiss the beating area.

"You're beautiful too, Spen."

Soon they were down to their underwear, both still shy but unashamed of the other's gaze as they languidly explored each other through the night.