NOTE: While not as graphic as some stories, I'm changing the rating for the remainder of this one to M, for the somewhat more adult nature of some of the content. Just to be safe.

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The next three days seemed long for Grace. Her shifts at work passed quickly and uneventfully enough but Spencer had made the trip back and forth from DC to Arizona three times in one and a half days and almost immediately after the most recent return to the nation's capital, the BAU team had been called in to a case in Minneapolis, sending them on yet another long haul trip.

Communication between Grace and Spencer had been limited to a few text messages: hastily conducted between work shifts and his travel. Compounded by late hours and the time zone differences, they had been unable to connect directly, either on the phone or via Skype.

Late Thursday evening she returned home after work and settled herself into her recliner with a glass of wine and her newly purchased laptop computer. Penelope had accompanied Grace out to the Apple Store in Georgetown and helped her pick out a suitable Macbook earlier in the week. She'd set the device up for Grace and along with sending her all kinds of cute kitten and puppy pictures, Penelope provided her with every Garcia-approved item ever published about Spencer. All his doctoral theses, articles he'd written, presentations he'd made and an innumerable amount of photographs of him. Grace wasn't sure whether to laugh and be impressed by Garcia's thoroughness, or afraid of just how deep this woman could reach.

As she was enjoying the Garcia-produced journey of his life chronicled in photos, her phone sounded the ringtone indicating that Spencer was calling.

"Spence!" she cried happily.

"Grace. I'm so sorry we haven't been able to talk."

"It's all right, we've both been busy. At least we have texts!"

"You wouldn't believe how much I look forward to seeing those after being on the case all day."

"Aw, Spencer," she empathised. "It's the same for me."

They chatted for a few minutes; Grace assured him his mother was fine and he told her the team's case was progressing well.

"I was just thinking about us, Spence," Grace began, "We've been seeing each other for three months now."

"Best three months of my life," he told her honestly. "We should celebrate."

"I'd like that. I'll make us a special dinner," she proposed.

"And I'd love that," he replied enthusiastically.

"Tomorrow night?" she asked.

"That would be great. I'm hoping we're home some time tomorrow. I'll let you know, Grace, how the day's going."

"Absolutely! Call or text, whatever's possible."

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Pinot Grigio was chilling in her refrigerator, and a bottle of Merlot sat on the dining room table next to a pair of Grace's favourite wine glasses. She wasn't sure if he preferred red or white and made sure she had both on hand and ready to go. Nothing was going to go wrong tonight, she vowed. Not this time. She checked on the lasagna baking in the oven, mixed the Parmesan into the Caesar salad dressing and set that aside and then checked her table setting once again.

A quick glance at her wall clock told her that Spencer's flight should have landed by now and he'd be on his way to her apartment. Sure enough, as she made her way back into the kitchen, she heard her cell phone beep an alert. A smile crossed her face as she read the text: on my way, ETA fifteen minutes. He'd texted her a few hours earlier, telling her they'd apprehended their unsub and were in the process of filling out paperwork and finishing other details. The team would be flying back to DC later that afternoon and he should be back in time for their three-month anniversary dinner.

Grace opened a kitchen drawer in which she kept odds and ends and pulled out a box of wooden matches. Carefully, she lit the dozen taper candles she had placed strategically around the living and dining rooms and on the dining room table. From her china cabinet, she took half a dozen pillar candles and hurried to the bedroom. She set three down on the dresser and left several of the matches next to them. Beside the candles sat a small ring with her spare keys and a security access card. The other three candles she carried into the en suite bathroom and set down on the vanity with another handful of matches.

Back in the living room, she flipped the stereo on, found a low key jazz station and turned the volume down to a background level, then headed into the kitchen to put together a small platter of olives and pickles and check on her lasagna once again. Satisfied it was all ready to go, she made a trip into the bathroom, and took a small paper shopping bag out of the vanity drawer there, setting it beside several freshly laundered towels.

As she made her way back to the kitchen, the intercom on the wall rang letting her know she had a visitor. Hitting the mic button, she asked, "Spence?"

"Um, this is Dr. Reid. I believe you're expecting me ma'am?" He affected a formal tone of voice but by the time he got to 'ma'am' he was laughing.

She broke out laughing herself and replied, "Don't call me ma'am!" as she hit the sequence on the keypad to unlock the door and admit him. Suddenly nervous, she checked her makeup and hair in the mirror hanging by the front door and smoothed out the imaginary wrinkle in the skirt of her dress.

"Good god, what am I? Sixteen?" she shook her head self deprecatingly and hurried to the kitchen, not wanting to give the appearance that she was waiting anxiously by the door.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the door and she counted silently to five then moved calmly to answer it. She opened the door and was greeted by an enormous bouquet of pink flowers; a huge assortment of roses, carnations, freesia, and others that Grace could not identify. The floral arrangement was lowered to reveal Spencer and he held the flowers out to her. She took them from him, curling one arm around them as she reached out to touch his face with her other hand and leaned in to kiss him.

"Thank you. I've missed you," she said in a low voice.

"Missed you too," he replied. "It's been a long three days." He took her hand in his and continued, "I came straight from the airport. That florist next door to your building here is really convenient."

"Happy three months' anniversary," he smiled.

"Happy three months, indeed," she replied.

A smile stretched across her face for a moment before disappearing when she noticed Spencer trying to stifle a yawn.

"Anyway, I came straight here, and I uh," he hurried to cover up another yawn. "Would you mind terribly if I took a shower and changed into my other clothes?" He indicated his go bag. "Would that be too, I dunno, weird? I mean, well, you look great. And I, um, I've spent the last three days at crime scenes or on a plane. I'm really not date ready."

"Aw, Spencer. It's not weird at all. Absolutely, if you'd be more comfortable," she led him through the bedroom to the en suite bathroom and patted the towels on the vanity. She stepped back out of the bathroom, "You can change here," she indicated the bedroom. "I'll go put these in water and get the rest of dinner together. Oh! White wine or red?"

"Red, please," he answered, following her back into the bedroom and setting his go bag on the floor beside her bed. He undid his tie and she pulled on the doorknob as she left, leaving the door slightly ajar as she replied,

"It'll be waiting for you."

She found a vase in the kitchen and put the flowers in water, then took the arrangement over to the dining room table and set it down as a centerpiece. Moving the candles out of the way, she quickly changed one of the place settings so that the two of them would be sitting side by side rather than across the table from each other.

After assembling the salad, she took the bowl out to the dining table as well. Opening the red wine, she poured them each a glassful. Ten minutes later, Grace noticed the shower was not yet running and puzzled, she made her way to the bedroom.

Knocking quietly, she called out to him in a whisper, "Spencer? Spence, are you all right?"

She received no answer and for an instant weighed her options. Part of her worried that something was wrong, and another part didn't wish to intrude on his privacy. She stood at her bedroom door and knocked before calling out again in a loud whisper "Spence?"

Her nurse instinct kicked in and Grace pushed the door open. Was she going to find him in some sort of medical distress? Her heart was in her throat as she opened the door, and then it quickly melted. He was lying on his side on her bed; bent at the waist with his legs still hanging over the side, sound asleep. She stifled a giggle as a thought occurred to her, Poor guy, so tired he fell asleep sitting up and toppled over, his tie still in one hand.

Gently, she pried the tie from his right hand and laid it on top of his suit jacket, which was already laying on the wing chair set in one corner of the bedroom. He'd managed to take his shoes off, she noted, seeing the black Converse sneakers lined up neatly on the floor beside the wing chair. Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Grace swung his legs up onto the bed and straightened him out as best she could. She undid the first few buttons on his shirt and loosened the belt on his pants. Her face flushed with excitement as she withdrew her hands from his waist and she found herself stifling yet another giggle, this one in self-deprecation.

Grace pulled the comforter up from the other side of the bed and covered Spencer with it and then quietly padded out of the bedroom to let him sleep for a while.