Okay. Let's hope this isn't a load of bullshit, because ain't nobody got time fo' that. Read, review, favorite and all that good shit, okay? Yes. Thank you, and do like my url says and have a great day! X
The arrival back at the NYPD office was a strange one to say the least, As soon as Hotch stepped out of the SUV, suspect in hand, the journalists went wild. They swarmed around him, like pack of hungry ants, and blocked his way to the entrance. He had to force his way through them, and when he came out on the other end, he was a little bit more than flustered and dishevelled. We walked into the foyer and before long, the unsub had been carted away by the active police officers on site. Obviously, he was screaming bloody murder while they were doing so, but I didn't even flinch. I was glad that he was finally getting what he deserved. Retribution.
Hotch and I walked into the elevator and stood in silence, until it pinged and alerted us to our destination. I stepped out first, with Hotch behind me, and could only watch as Stephenson congratulated Hotch with a strong clap on the back and a vivacious shake of his hand. He completely ignored that I was there, and even went so far as to shove in front of me and nudge me out of the way.
I sent a scathing glare aimed at the back of his head, and, although it was immature, I stuck my tongue out at him, and stomped over to my desk. I swirled around on my swivel chair a few times, careful to not knock my knees against the deep cherry wood desk, and groaned in pure boredom. Now that the case was over, eventually BAU would go back to Quantico and I would return to being ignored and overlooked.
I glanced over to the team in question, and noticed the proud smiles they were giving all around the room. I forced out a small grin, and I wriggled the mouse of my computer, switching it back on from its hibernation and I began typing up a report on the happenings of today.
I made sure to note that the suspect attempted to escape, and that he suffered substantial damage as a direct result of this, meaning the bruising and the bloody nose he endured. If I hadn't, this could have landed me in hot water and in some extreme cases, it could have meant my ass on the line and out of the job.
I was so engrossed in my work that I didn't realise that someone was standing over me, and I saw a dark shadow fall over my computer screen. I jumped out of my skin as I felt a light hand fall into my shoulder, and I span around only to come face to face with Dr Spencer Reid.
"Why are you sitting here on your own?"
The question was phrased with a child-like wonder, and for a moment I was swarmed with feelings of severe endearment. I opened my mouth to speak, but found I couldn't quite do so. I swallowed once, twice and then half-whispered, "Be-Because I'm supposed to be here. I'm doing my job."
I quickly span back around, however halted halfway as I felt him hold the head rest of the chair in a sturdy grip, and whirled me back around, and I found myself almost nose-to-nose with him. Being so near to him made small features about him implode in my vision, and they were all I could focus on.
His eyes weren't exactly hazel, nor were they fully green - they were smack bang in between them, shining with an unspoken intelligence. His eyelashes were a few shades darker than the deep chestnut brown hair atop his head, which was cut fairly short, the sides framing his face perfectly and the midsection appearing sophisticatedly quaffed.
His lips were a light pink, and I had to restrain myself from reaching upwards and kissing him, which was a foreign sensation in itself. His skin was pale, but not sullen - his cheeks flushed and dotted with light brown freckles. I can only imagine how far those freckles went down, and I found myself blushing at the thought.
"I don't understand why you're over here, hiding away, when you're the one who help catch this guy."
Each word was enunciated slowly and, dare I say it, sensually, and I felt my eyes flicker a few times. I felt like I was losing control of my body and I had to force myself to relax. My shoulders loosened up and I sank back into my comfy chair. I raised an eyebrow up at him almost challengingly and I said, "Yes, well I don't understand why you're over here, talking to me, when your team is over there, celebrating."
He smiled, retorting my cocksure stare, and replied, "You're here, that's good enough for me."
That shocked me, greatly in fact, and I couldn't help but widen my eyes at the sudden, abrupt confession. I mean, it wasn't a proclamation of undying love, but you can't blame me for reading between the lines at almost blinding speed. He was trying to give nothing away with his expressions - everything was neutral, even the playfulness in his eyes had become downplayed. But that in itself told me more than words could, in fact.
My voice was low and inquisitive when I asked, "You're trying to hide something, aren't you? Well, I'll figure it out eventually, don't worry about that, sweetheart."
Now it was his turn to look shocked, and I immediately felt a surge of pride and smugness seep into my system. How do you like them apples, Spencer Reid? Taste good? I hope so. As swiftly as I was able, I swooped past him and began walking towards the pseudo-kitchen, to make myself a strong, steaming cup of regular coffee. Just thinking about it had me shivering in delight, I loved overtly sweet, warm coffee. What a perfect way to end the day.
I did the usual routine, flipping on the kettle, pouring in the coffee and sugar and afterwards, throwing in the boiled water over it. The heady scent of nutty coffee assaulting my senses was enough to revitalising my body and allowed me to focus back in on what I'm doing. I wasn't going to allow Dr Reid to throw off my game, I'm perfectly fine. I knew all I needed was a good cup of old Joe.
I hefted my petite frame up to sit on the edge of the sideboard, and held the warm mug in my hands, feeling the heat seep into my fingertips and watch as the smoke swirled and curled in the air. I watched as the office twisted and turned, merry laughter and heavy applause, and I couldn't help the niggling voice in the back of my mind, whispering in my ear that I am truly replaceable. I don't need to be here, everything would work better without me.
It was a sad, but completely valid truth, and I had already come to grips with that.
