Christine sat up and yawned. Reaching for her glasses she asked, "Hey- what time is it?"

"Almost 11:00am," Spencer called from the bathroom, where he'd just stepped out of the shower.

"Ugh. That's just too damned early…" she moaned, and flopped back on the bed.

"Too early?" he exclaimed as he came back into the room with a towel around his waist. "Just what kind of hours have you been keeping lately?" he asked as he pulled on his pants.

"Late ones. And you kept me up most of the night last night, too."

He smiled as he buttoned up his shirt. "Strange. I didn't hear you complaining about that at the time. In fact," he said, sitting down beside her, "as I recall, it was you who woke me up at 3:00am asking me to-"

"Oh yeah!" she said, laughing. "Yeah, that…you have to admit, that was a damn fine idea!"

He leaned down to kiss her. "Yes, it was. Very creative, too!"

"Yeah, well…when we're apart for extended periods of time, I have to occupy my dirty little mind somehow. I've been thinking about doing that for weeks now. In fact, if you'd like to come back to bed now…"

He stood up and smiled. "Right now I'm famished. We've already missed breakfast, but if you get up now we might still have time for lunch." She pouted for a moment before sitting up and staring at him. "What?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just…you always put your contacts in right after you get out of the shower. So what's with the glasses, Sparky?"

His face changed and he suddenly became angry. "You want to know what's up with my glasses? Really? Well, I had the last of my contacts in my go-bag in our closet, dear, and guess what was in it when I opened it up the night after you guys left?" She shook her head, which caused him to rummage around in his bag until he pulled out a small box and tossed it to her. "What do you suppose happened to that?"

She turned over the box of contact lenses that appeared to have been chewed on by a small animal with tiny, sharp teeth and tried unsuccessfully not to laugh. "Oh no…Spud strikes again!"

"Yes, Spud strikes again. I'm happy you find this so amusing! As for me, those were the last of my contacts, so I'm forced to wear glasses for the foreseeable future!"

"Oh, it's not so bad. Just order more. You can even do it online. Ask Penny to help you, if you need it."

"Penny?" he asked, bemused.

"Sorry. Pen. El. Oh. Pee," she enunciated.

"Yes, I know who you're talking about. It's just- I don't think I've ever called her by her first name. I've always just called her Garcia."

"Yeah, well, I prefer first names."

"I know. And nicknames. Hey, that brings me to something I've been meaning to ask you- do you think you could try not calling JJ 'Barbie' anymore? She really hates it when you call her that."

"I suppose…" she said.

"I know why you call her that, because you're somehow jealous of her, though you needn't be, and it's a rather unsubtle way of implying she's some sort of bimbo, which she isn't. It hurts her feelings, and she is my friend and colleague…"

"Yes, I know. And honestly, I don't dislike her. She seems nice enough. But she's just so damned skinny and tall and perfect in every way- kinda like every pretty bitch who ever picked on me as a kid. But you're right- I shouldn't treat her for the way others have treated me. So I promise- I'll play nice."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"Even if I do think her perfect, scrawny little self would be better off on steady diet of bacon cheeseburgers and milkshakes…"

"Hey, behave!"

"Or what? Will you spank me, if I don't?"

"I will not. That would only encourage you. Now, come on- get up. I'm hungry, and I promised Alex I'd get you to the local radio station for your interview on time so we need to get going soon if we're going to do both!"

Ten days later she pulled up the drive at home and, seeing that the only light on was coming from the library window, decided to be clever and try to sneak up on him. She put her bag down quietly at the foot of the stairs and tiptoed down the hallway and into the library expecting to see him reading in the chair that she now found empty. As she stood with her hands on her hips, looking around and listening for his whereabouts, suddenly two hands grabbed her by the waist as a voice said, "Boo!"

She let out a blood-curdling scream as she spun around, swinging her fist, which Spencer caught in his hand just before it connected with his groin. "GODDAMMIT! Are you trying to kill me?" she screamed at him.

"Me?" he laughed, pleased that, for once, he'd been the successful perpetrator of a prank instead of her victim. "Do you realize what you were aiming for, darling? I think I'm the victim here!"

"You nearly gave me a goddamned heart attack!" she said, leaning back against the couch and clutching her chest rather dramatically. "And that- that was just a reflex, the result of a youth spent being tormented by Joe! Blame him for that. Jesus! Why would you do that to me?"

"Look me in the eye and tell me you weren't hoping to sneak in here and terrorize me in the same way," he said, smiling and leaning in so that their noses nearly touched.

She rolled her eyes at him and said, "Yeah, well, that's not the same!"

"Oh, no you don't! You're not getting off that lightly!" he teased. "We both can play that game. You just don't want to admit that, for once, I bested you!"

"Hey, if you want to throw down with me, have at it, baby. But before you do, just remember that not only am I just as smart as you, I am way more mischievous, sneaky and devious. You will never out-prank me. So before you decide to go down that road, you need to ask yourself: 'Is this the hill I wanna die on?'"

He stood back and looked at her for a moment and said, "Perhaps not. And anyway, it's my birthday…"

"Not for another two days, it's not."

"It's close enough. And you know that I'm never entirely sure when I may be called away, so I was thinking we could celebrate a little tonight already."

"Oh, I think I know what that smile means," she giggled, grinning back at him.

"Come on," he said, holding out his hand, "I have something for us up stairs."

"I'll bet you do," she replied, taking his hand and following him up to the bedroom.

When they got to the room, she found he'd started a fire in the fireplace. "You know, it's almost been exactly one year since we first spent the night together, and we haven't had a fire in here since. So a few weeks ago I went to the library and read up on how to build a proper fire," he explained, putting his arms around her. "Then I monitored the arrival of your plane online, calculated how long it would take for you to deplane and be on the road, assuming you didn't check any luggage, and based on traffic patterns at this time of the evening, I determined when you'd arrive home. I was up here lighting this right when you pulled up. These are for you," he added, handing her a dozen white tulips and gesturing to a package on the bed, "and so is that."

"What?" she asked incredulously. "But it's your birthday!"

"Well, you don't like to celebrate your own birthday, and you never seem to want to let me spoil you as I'd like. But now it's my birthday. This is what I want to do. Besides, I think you'll find that what's in that package is as much for me as it is for you."

She sat down on the bed and picked up the box. "Well, then, I think I can imagine what this is," she said, opening it. "Ah, yes. Lingerie!"

"Buying that was probably the single most awkward shopping experience I have ever had in my life," he said, smiling and blushing. "You can imagine the look on the sales associate's face when I told her I wanted to buy some lingerie for my birthday…"

"Oh, no!" she cried, laughing loudly.

"Oh, yes. It took a second for me to realize what I had said that had caused the look of horror on her face, so then I tried to explain that it was for my girlfriend, that I wanted to give her something pretty to wear on my birthday, but I was stuttering and my voice cracked..." he shook his head, "When she did show me a few things I tried to explain that I needed to see something with a larger bust size, but then I made the mistake of doing so by using my hands to illustrate the size of your breasts, which only seemed to creep her out her more. Then for some reason I felt the need to explain that she needn't be alarmed because I'm not a sexual predator, and I told her that statistics show that it is actually quite rare for cross-dressers to sexually aggress against heterosexual women, not that I am a cross-dresser because I was buying lingerie for my girlfriend, not myself, and that even if it was for me that she wasn't even my type because she's a brunette and you're a red-head and that she can trust me because I work for the FBI…" he sighed. "So, to make a long story short, I don't think I can ever show my face in the Fair Oaks Mall Victoria's Secret ever again…"

Christine was in tears from laughing at his story. When she finally settled down and was able to speak, she said, "Oh, you poor thing! Well, after what you went through just to buy this, I suppose the least I can do is wear it, huh? Let me go put it on, sweetheart."

As she went into her closet to change, he arranged their two chairs and a little table in front of the fire and opened a bottle of champagne. A short time later, she emerged in a white negligee with little purple flowers at the hem. He stood and smiled at her. "Well…what do you think?" she asked.

"I think," he said, taking her hand, "that every time I believe I've seen you at your most beautiful, I look at you once more and…you take my breath away all over again. Come, sit with me for a moment." He poured them each a glass of champagne and set out a box of chocolates, which caused her to wrinkle her nose.

"Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically. "I hate chocolate. You know I hate chocolate."

"Yes, but it's not your birthday now, is it?" he laughed.

"Touché."

"Besides, I got you these," he said, placing another box on the table.

"Yay! Red Vines!" she exclaimed, immediately grabbing one and taking a bite. "You're the best boyfriend, ever, you know that?" she said, pointing at him with the rest of the piece in her hand.

He smiled. They sat for a moment and held hands before he said, "You know, if someone had told me on my 23rd birthday that by the time I was 25 I'd be here, celebrating my birthday with the most beautiful woman in the world, and that we would have shared so much laughter and love, that we'd fight and hurt and worry and go on adventures and come through it all still together, I never would have believed them. I didn't think I'd ever find someone to love who would love me back. Sometimes, it still feels like a dream. I've never believed in God or karma or fate, but when I think of you, it seems there must be someone or something out there looking out for me, because no man could be this lucky."

She smiled and was about to say something before she simply began laughing. He squeezed her hand. "Hey- what's so funny?"

"It just occurred to me that all this happened- that we happened- all because of Joe. And that made me think, is that really what angels are like? Is that how they blend in with us mere mortals, disguised as obnoxious, annoying, farting, big brothers?"

Spencer started coughing on the sip he'd been taking when she said this. Christine slapped him on the back good-naturedly and they both laughed until finally Spencer said, "You know- I think you owe your brother a raise."

She giggled some more and then leaned over to kiss him. He set his glass down and sank his fingers into her hair. After a moment she pulled back and said simply, "I love you, Spencer."

He smiled. "Ah, you said it first for a change!'

"Yes, well…I always love you. You should know that even without me saying it."

"It's still nice to hear. And I love you, too." The kissed again and he said, "now stand up for me." She did so, and he said, "please turn around. Slowly." After she had done so, he finished the last of his glass, stood up, and putting his hands on her hips, said, "happy birthday to me!"

He walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back, then led her over and had her lay down. He sat beside her and leaned over to kiss her while his one hand moved down and slipped under her negligee. He sat up and pulled her panties slowly down her legs and dropped them to the side of the bed, then ran his hands slowly back up her legs and over her hips. He leaned over to kiss her flat belly, before pushing the strap off one of her shoulders and reaching into her bodice to expose her breast. He ran his thumb lightly over her little pink nipple before leaning back down to kiss it. She sighed happily when he did so, and moaned when he sucked on and bit it lightly. She arched her back reflexively when he did the same to her other breast. He slipped one hand between her thighs and ran a single finger up and down before pushing it into her, causing her to gasp. He stood up and undressed slowly, facing her and watching her face as she admired his body. He smiled, remembering that the year before, when they first made love, he'd been too shy to let her look at his naked body. He marveled at how the thought of doing so had once filled him with dread and fear that she might reject him. But quickly it had come to feel like the most natural thing in the world to let her look at him because he trusted her to love and accept him just as he was. Once he'd stripped, she propped herself up on one arm and reached out to grasp him with the other hand. She leaned forward and planted several light, sweet kisses on the tip of his penis before running her tongue slowly down and back up it again. He stroked her hair and smiled down at her as she continued this until she took him into her mouth. He groaned as she began to suck on him more and more forcefully until he had to push her head back, saying, "not yet, baby doll. I'm not ready to be finished with you yet." He climbed onto the bed, pulled her knees apart, and ran his hands up her thighs, smiling at her. He reached up and pulled the bodice of her negligee down, exposing both her breasts, and when he looked back up to see her smiling and biting her lip coyly, he quickly lifted her left leg over his shoulder and drove himself into her. He didn't fuck her fast, as she often urged him to do, but slowly, deliberately and forcefully, enjoying every little cry and moan and soft, tiny kiss she planted on his neck and arm and shoulders as he did so until her voice rose to an ecstatic scream as her orgasm crashed over her.

He released her raised leg and let her lay back on the bed for a moment to catch her breath as he kissed her and stroked her soft, pale shoulder. After her breathing had slowed, he pressed his cheek to hers and asked softly, "Ready?" She giggled and nodded, and he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him and onto him. He grasped her hips tightly and moved her, setting his desired pace. Once he had done so, ran his hands up to her breasts. She so sweet and innocent and incredibly sexy all at the same time in that delicate white negligee pulled down beneath her breasts, her long hair, glowing even redder from the light of the fireplace, framing her smiling face and flowing loosely over her shoulders, nearly to her waist. He fondled her breasts and watched, mesmerized, how they moved as she rode him. Suddenly, he was overcome by the need and desire to cum within her, so he swiftly pulled her to him, flipped her over, and thrust into her at a furious, relentless pace, until he came with a loud shout, groaning and throbbing deep within her as she kicked and screamed, helplessly overcome by her own climax once more.

When he was able to move again, he rolled off her and lay beside her staring up at nothing in particular and running his hands through his sweat-damp hair. She rolled over and put an arm across him and snuggled her head against his shoulder. "I, um…I was, you know…kind of hoping to make that…last a little longer," he said at last.
"Oh, you certainly did an admirable job tonight, Sparky. I'm beyond happy," she giggled. "But if you'd like to try again, I'm certainly game…"

"Baby doll, I don't think I can!"

"What? That doesn't sound like you at all! Is everything all right?"

"Yes, of course," he said with a smile. "It's not that I can't physically, but rather that I really need to get some rest tonight- tomorrow is still a work day for me."

"Ohhh," she whined, hugging him tighter. "Tell Aaron you can't make it. Call in sick."

"You know I can't do that, silly," he said, turning over to face her.

"Fine. I'll call him. I don't mind lying to your boss…"

"You'll do nothing of the kind! And push your lower lip back in. I hate it when you pout like that."

"Actually, you secretly like it when I pout, because you usually end up giving me what I want!"

"No, I don't like it, and I only give you what you want to make you stop. Anyway," he said, reaching out with one finger to push in her lip, which she promptly stuck back out, "I wanted to ask you about something."

"Okay…"

"Now, I noticed you have a few days off right around Halloween, and, well, you know how much I like Halloween…"

"Really? You like Halloween? I never would have guessed that from the way you go on and on and on and on about it," she teased.

"Hey, it's fun and creepy and I like it, okay?"

"You like candy, anyway…"

"That too. But I was wondering if…well, if it wasn't too much of a bother, if you'd be willing to come home for a couple of days. I thought it might be nice to hand out candy together, if you think we'll get any trick-or-treaters out here. And if so, then we should probably discuss what costumes we'll be wearing."

"So what- are you thinking we should coordinate our costumes as a couple?"

"Well," he said a little bashfully, suddenly thinking his idea to do just that sounded rather childish, "I thought maybe it would be kind of fun to do- if you want to, that is."

"That sounds amazing!" she exclaimed, sitting up. "Oh my god! And I have the perfect, most awesome idea ever!"

"But…I want something that will be scary, not just cute or funny, Chris…"

"Dude, you know me- I don't do cute. And this idea will be absolutely terrifying, guaranteed! Check it out- we're going to go with a Peter Pan theme!"

"What? No! That's not scary at all! And I don't want to be Peter Pan!"

"No, no, no. Let me finish. You won't be Peter. We'll make Alex be Peter."

"So then, what? I have to be Captain Hook? That's still not scary."

"No! I'm not done! I'm Captain Hook, because he's the one with the coolest costume and because, come on- you know me. Give me a couple of shots of rum and I'm an instant pirate. Which means you, my darling, sweet, wonderful, handsome, sexy love," she said, leaning over to kiss him, "you get to be Tinker Bell!"

"Are you out of your mind?" he practically screamed at her. "No! No way!"

"Yes! Think about it! You'll be a grown man in tights, a tutu and pixie wings. And then we'll have you not shave for three or four days, and when you open the door for trick-or-treaters, you'll have on a messy blond wig and be holding a half-empty bottle of gin in your hand. It'll confuse the hell out of the little kids, and it'll strike fear into the heart of every parent in town!"

"That is the craziest idea I've ever heard of!"

"I know! But think about it- if you were a parent, wouldn't the idea that the guy who's the nice, quiet, mild-mannered FBI agent by day might be a drunken weirdo who dresses like a fairy and gives free candy to little boys and girls by night just scare the shit out of you? I know it sure as hell would scare me. I guarantee, if you do this, then those websites where you can go and find out if there are registered sex offenders in your area will have everyone in Bristow doing a search, looking for your name."

"That's insane!"

"That's legitimately scary!"

"I am not dressing up as a debauched, degenerate Tinker Bell for Halloween!"

"But-"

"No!"

"But-"

"I said no! I will not be a fairy, or sprite, or pixie, or anything of the sort for Halloween, nor will I lead the whole town to believe I might be an alcoholic pedophile simply for the sake of scaring them for one night!"

"I thought you said you wanted to be scary?"

"Not that scary!"

She flopped back on the bed and crossed her arms. "You're mean," she complained.

"And you're crazy!" he shot back.

"It's an awesome idea."

"For you, sure! I have no doubt you've been looking for a proper excuse to stomp around saying, 'Yarrr!', swing a cutlass and just generally behave badly. I, however, have not been waiting all year for a chance to wear tights and a little skirt and be suspected of being a child molester!"

"Well then, what was your idea, Doctor Reid?"

"Something more normal, like Frankenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein."

"You know what's another word for normal? Booooooring…"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to be Tinker Bell!"

"Hey, Spencer?"

"What now?" he complained.

"I don't think I could even come back for Halloween, anyway. During those few days I have no shows I still have interviews and an album signing to attend."

"So you were just tormenting me with the whole Tinker Bell idea after all?" He sighed, both from exasperation and from disappointment. There were so many things he'd always dreamed of doing once he had a girlfriend. He knew it was, perhaps, a silly dream to have a pretty girl to dress up with for Halloween, but it was still his dream. He rolled over to turn away from her and pulled the covers up over his shoulders.

"Oh, don't be like that! You can still come and visit me over the weekend, if you want! I'm sure we can find a party to go to no matter where I am! And if you really don't want to be Tinker Bell-"

"I do not."

"Okay, then you can be whatever you want. I think I'd still like to be a pirate, though…" He didn't respond for a moment, so she scooted closer, kissed his neck and said, "Hey, sweetheart. Listen, I have something for you. I was going to wait until your actual birthday to give it to you, but if you'd like, you can have it now…"

He turned onto his back and looked at her. "I thought you didn't like birthday presents."

"Not for myself, but that's just because I don't like birthdays. But since you do like celebrating yours…would you like it now?"

He smiled and sat up. He knew it was rather childish of him, but he really did like birthdays and presents. They didn't carry with them the same unpleasant memories for him that they did for her. "Yes, please! What did I get?"

She chuckled and got up. He watched her as she walked naked to the closet. She had always been right- he was a breast man, and he couldn't take his eyes off hers, as full and firm as they were. But he loved her whole figure, how her breasts set off her tiny waist and round hips, and watching her from behind also gave him immense pleasure. She had such a delightful little bottom…

She came back out with her hands behind her back and said, "Okay. Now close your eyes and hold out your hands. No! Close them! Stop peeking or you're not getting this. I can wait all night, Spencer," she chided until he complied.

After she placed the small, metallic object in his hands, he opened his eyes. "A revolver? Wow. Okay…thanks!" He was pleased, and he knew it wasn't a cheap gift- a Smith & Wesson 65 was not an easy find since they were no longer in production- but he wondered at the meaning behind it.

"Look. I know you think you're not the best shot with a standard issue semi-auto 9mm, but maybe you just haven't found a firearm that suits you yet. When I saw this, it just screamed your name. It's different and it's classic. You know," she said, sitting down, putting her arms around him and kissing his cheek, "you're not a typical FBI agent. You're never going to quite fit that burly, stoic, tough-guy mold. But in my opinion, that just makes you more amazing. The bureau may have thousands of Aarons and Dereks, but they're pretty damned lucky to have also found the one and only, completely unique and totally original Spencer Reid. I'm damned lucky to have Spencer Reid. This gun, it might not hold as many bullets as others, but that's okay. You won't need them. You are not the kind of man to make mistakes. And you are my hero." She kissed him again, this time on the lips. "I love you, Spencer."

He placed the gun on the nightstand and took her in his arms. "I love you, too, Christine. Thank you for the gift. It's perfect." He made room for her under the covers again and decided to forgo more sleep on a work night by making giddy, giggling love to her again.

The next day he kissed her softly goodbye and left for work without waking her. A few hours later he sent her a text, Just got a case in LA.

He didn't really expect an immediate response, but she was either already awake or the buzzing of her phone woke her, because he received back, Duuuuude. That sucks! Tell Aaron I'll punch him in the throat if you don't come home before I leave again.

He looked over at Hotch as the jet prepared for takeoff and smiled to himself at the thought of how he'd react if he did relate Christine's message to him. He texted back, I'll let him know. Call you tonight?

Hotch looked over at him. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, sir," Spencer answered. His phone vibrated again. Call me anytime. I love you. Be safe. He smiled and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

It was late in the evening when they returned from LA, two days later. The lights were all out in the house, and he walked quietly upstairs where he got undressed and slipped into bed beside her. She was curled in a fetal position with her back toward him, so he put his arm over her and pulled her to him. She was wearing just an old t-shirt and panties, but she was still so adorable to him that he quickly grew hard as he rubbed her bottom and kissed her neck.

She woke with a yawn and a giggle. "Hey, you're back!"

"Mmhmm…"

She snuggled back up against him and said, "Ooh, and you're horny, too!"

"Yes, ma'am," he said simply as he pulled her panties down off her hips and slid his hand back up to fondle her breasts. He leaned over to kiss her cheek and in doing so, pressed her belly-down against the bed. He got on his knees, straddled her and pulled her up by her hips. "I love you, Christine," he said softly, and thrust himself into her, causing her to gasp.

"Oh, Spencer," she moaned as she balanced on her elbows. "God! Oh, I love you, too!" She gripped the bed tightly as he took her, strangely thrilled by his unexpected assertiveness. He held her tightly until he released her hip from his left hand and slid in under her belly and between her legs to rub her with one finger. Her hands grasped at the sheets and her pillow as he did so. When her voice rose and begin to break into it's now-familiar scream, he closed his eyes and, holding her to him once more with both hands, allowed himself to climax with a shout as she clawed desperately at the bed. After a long, glorious moment, he released her; she collapsed helplessly to the bed and he laid back beside her. After a minute she rolled over onto her back, grasped his hand and said, "Well, hot damn! Welcome home, Agent Reid!"

He chuckled, pulled her hand up to kiss it and said simply, "Thanks. It's great to be home!"

She turned to him to stroke his hair and asked with a giggle, "Well, what brought that on? Rough case? Not that I'm complaining!"

"Well, I've been thinking for days now about how you're as beautiful from behind as you are from the front. I've hardly been able to sleep because of it," he chuckled. After a moment he continued, "And they're all rough cases. This one…this was a case of sex being used for all the wrong reasons." He brushed her cheek and smiled at her thoughtfully before pulling her panties all the way down and off. As he did so, she pulled off her shirt and tossed it aside and put her arms around him. He kissed her and continued, "I'm just very, very happy that with you, I get to do it for all the right reasons."

She smiled and said, "God, I love you, Spencer!"

He ran his hand up her thigh as she wrapped her legs around him. "And I love you, too. Very much."

A few days later, she was gone again, this time to Nashville. The day she left, the BAU got another case which took them to Dayton, Ohio in search of a serial rapist. That night in Nashville, after her show and the meet and greet that followed, she made plans with Joe and Alex to go out to go out to a bar and hear some music. She was in her room changing when her phone buzzed. She looked at it, perplexed. It wasn't like Spencer to call her this late. After another ring, she answered it. "Hello?"

"Hi. It's me. Hope I didn't wake you…"

"No, of course not. What's wrong?"

After a second he asked, "What makes you think something's wrong?"

"Well, it's 11:12pm here in Nashville, which means its after midnight in Dayton. And you'd never call to just chat at that hour unless something's bothering you, so…what is it?"

"I'm worried about Elle."

She sat down on the bed. "You've alluded to that before. So what's changed, sweetheart?" She heard a knock on the door. She scribbled a quick note that said, Go without me, opened the door and handed it to Alex, who nodded and waved goodbye as Christine pointed to the phone in her hand and mouthed Spencer.

He sighed heavily and said, "Well, I went to her room. After hours. Just to check on her, you know?"

"Yeah. That was nice of you, Spencer."

"Chris…she was drinking."

"Well, the drinking alone is not a problem. Remember, after hours she's got a right to do whatever she damned well pleases, whether you guys are at home or on the road."

"I know."

"So then what's the problem? Do you think her drinking will inhibit her ability to do her job tomorrow? Or do you have a problem because you think she's drinking to avoid dealing with psychological trauma?"

"Yes...yes, I think…no, I know that's it. Chris, she said that when she was shot, and Garner wrote on the wall in her blood, she was aware of it. She could feel his fingers in his wounds."

"Oh, god…"

"And now we're dealing with a rapist. Chris- she's reliving her own violation and victimization. I know that's what's going on in her mind. And…I'm worried it's going to be too much for her."

"Hey, Sparky- can I tell you something?"

"Please."

"First, there are things you can control, and other's you can't. There are some things that are your responsibility and others that are not. You cannot control Elle. She is her own woman. She should have gotten proper help before going back to work, and you can't bear the blame if she didn't. But you can be a good friend to her. You can't help what cases your team takes, because that's not your call. You can let Aaron know of your concerns- and you probably should- but ultimately it is his decision what to do about her. Furthermore, you are just one man. This world places heavy enough burdens on each of us for our own lives. You cannot help everyone else to bear theirs, as well. It's noble of you to try, but you just can't, Spencer. Sometimes you just have to let them take responsibility for their own lives and be available to help them pick up the pieces when it all falls apart."

"I know," he said after a moment. "But I just…"

"You want to solve everyone's problems for them. I know that. Solving problems is what you do. It's who you are. And you have such a tremendous, wonderful, tender heart that you want to help every one you know. But there are times, Spencer, when you have to let people lead their own lives, you know? For better or for worse, there are some things people just have to do and learn for themselves. So be there for her. Be her friend, and if you have professional concerns, then tell Aaron. But you cannot carry all her pain around in your heart for her."

"Yes, I know," he said, wiping the tears from cheeks that she could hear in his voice. "You're right. I'm just worried about my friend."

"I know you are, sweetheart. I know. Say, are you going to be okay? Promise me you'll go find Derek or Jennifer or someone to talk to if it's too much, alright? And when that case is over, you can come with me for a few days, or I can send Joe to go hang out with you. Whatever you want. You shouldn't be alone, not if you're this upset."

"I'm okay. I'm fine, baby doll. I'll be okay, I promise."

"Okay. Keep me posted. Call any time, even if I've got a show. If you call, Joe will get a message to me the second I'm done."

"Yes. I will. I promise."

"Spencer?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, Spencer. I mean that."

"I know you do. I love you, too."

"Now please get some sleep, darling."

"I'll try. And you- don't party too hard tonight."

She smiled. "Ah, I think I'm just going to go to sleep myself now. Good night."

"Good night."

She turned off the phone and flopped back on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling, imagining how he was feeling right now, knowing his friend was standing on a precipice and knowing that no matter how badly he wanted to, there was nothing he could do to pull her back if she was determined to jump off it.

Because sometimes, when your friends are hurting, all you can do is let them know you're there, and that you're ready and willing to love them through it, if only they can find the courage to reach out for help.

A/N

Early in season 2, Reid is seen wearing glasses rather than his usual contacts. In real life, this was because actor Matthew Gray Gubler had an opthamological problem that prevented him from wearing contacts. As the show never explained the characters need for this, I decided to just blame Spud, because, well, cats like to get into all sorts of goofy trouble, don't they?

At the end of the season 1 episode, "L.D.S.K.," Hotch gives Reid a standard-issue, 9mm semi-automatic pistol, likely a Glock. By season 4 he is regularly seen carrying a Smith and Wesson model 65, a .357 magnum revolver with a 3" barrel. In the 1970's these had been commonly used in law-enforcement but fell out of use in the 1990's-early 2000's. Discussions I've read indicate that some individuals who are uncomfortable with a semi-auto weapon find these still preferable as the allow for greater accuracy, even though they cannot be fired or reloaded as quickly. By the time Spencer receives his, especially since it appears to be in impeccable condition, it would have been a desirable and sought-after collectable, particularly among rather nostalgic law enforcement officials.

The first episode referenced in this chapter is "Psychodrama". It takes place in Los Angeles and had an original airdate of October 11, 2006, one day prior to Spencer's 25th birthday. In it, a bank robber who had been sexually abused as a child forces hostages to simulate sex acts on one another.

The second episode referenced is "The Aftermath," in which Reid does, in fact, visit Elle in her hotel room to find her drinking alone.